Reverend Feelgood (9 page)

Simone and Mark sat across from each other, enjoying a light supper on the patio. September had brought a slight relief to the heat and humidity, but Simone was still thankful that the patio of Mark’s lovely, four-bedroom split-level home was enclosed. Simone wore a simple white halter mini-dress with matching sandals, and nothing else. She knew the dress looked great on her, and from the way he’d looked at her when she walked into the room, she knew Mark thought so too.

“This chicken is delicious, Mark. How did you make it?”

“There you go again, trying to get me to divulge my secrets. Don’t you know that’s how I keep you coming back to my table, woman?”

“Even if you tell me, I’ll keep coming back here.”

“Maybe,” Mark said softly. “But I’m not going to take that chance.”

The air shifted then, as it often did when Simone and Mark discussed seemingly innocent and casual topics. It had been this way for the past almost four months, since they’d taken an overnight trip to Vegas and before a nameless judge and anonymous witness, said stilted, uncomfortable “I do’s.” Simone had moved into his home, and during the grand tour he’d shown her where she’d be sleeping: the guest room.

At first, Simone had been relieved. She wanted to be in Nate’s bed, not Mark’s. Still reeling from the hurt of Destiny’s pregnancy and Nate’s asking her to not only move but marry his cousin, Simone had welcomed the space, and the solitude it provided. She needed to think, sort out her feelings, and figure out why she no longer seemed in control of her life.

Leaving her job had not been difficult. Working at the small ad agency near Palestine had merely been a paycheck, and a diversion. Mark had insisted that in looking for a job in Baton Rouge, she take her time, had stressed that he was happy to take care of her financial needs until her cash flow resumed. He also told her that if she wanted a job at the bank, it was hers. These were gestures of kindness without thought of reciprocity. And the first act that made her look at Mark with different eyes.

The second time had occurred about a month later, when Simone had gushed over a living room set shown on television. It had led to a discussion about decor and various tastes and preferences. Mark’s late wife, Rhonda, had decorated their home in a traditional country style, with lots of wood, floral prints, chintzes, and ruffles. Simone loved modern elegance, and immensely missed the sophisticated vibe of her Palestine home, which newly acquired tenants were now renting. The next day, Mark had given her a checkbook, and told her she could redecorate however she wanted. “If there’s not enough in the account,” he’d added before leaving for the office, “let me know and I’ll deposit more.”

And then there was the cooking. Simone had never had a man pamper her the way Mark did, and none of her former beaus had ever cooked her a meal. Certainly not Nate, who felt it his due to be waited on hand and foot. And it was, but for Simone, that wasn’t the point. She hadn’t known such a simple gesture could mean so much to her. That Mark’s food was delicious was a bonus, but she would have eaten whatever he fixed, simply because he’d done so for her.

“I might have found a job,” Simone said, changing the subject.

“Something you like?”

“Maybe. It’s a small graphic design company, and they’re looking for a manager. I sent them my résumé and they called today. My interview is set for next week.”

“So would you be doing the actual designing, or overseeing operations?”

“A little of both, I think. But the woman I talked to didn’t know much about the job description. She’d just been asked to set up the appointment.”

“If it’s something you really want to do, then good luck.”

Simone shrugged. “It will be something to keep me busy.”

“If you joined First Baptist, you could stay busy. They need somebody like you, Simone. Your ideas, heck, your mere presence would be like a shot in the arm for our church.”

“I don’t like Ed Smith. I’m sorry, Mark. I know he’s your pastor, but I just don’t.”

“Pastor Smith says some crazy things sometimes, but he means well.”

“Not the way he puts down megachurches, and people like Nate. He’s a player hater, and it doesn’t become him. And what’s more, he can’t see that his very attitude is why his congregation is shrinking instead of growing.”

“That’s why the church needs you, baby. We need new blood, new thinking. Ed Smith is the pastor, but his word isn’t gospel. He answers to a board like every other Baptist minister. I agree with what you’re saying though, about some of his pontificating. A lot of people are growing dissatisfied with Pastor and his negativity.”

“Then why don’t they, and you, find another church?”

“First Baptist carries a lot of weight, sweetness. Many of the city’s Black movers and shakers attend there. It’s a great place to network, and honestly, is a great asset when it comes to my political career. For all of Ed’s faults, he’s got a knack for making stuff happen, for knowing the right people. His Get Out the Vote campaign during the presidential election yielded thousands of new registrants.” Mark finished the last bite of chicken and rice, then sat back in his chair. “So will you come with me on Sunday, and think about joining?”

“I’ll go to church, but I’m not ready to move my membership. It’s just not the same as…where I was.”

Mark paused. “Still miss him, don’t you?”

“I miss Gospel Truth. I was very active there, felt I had a purpose and was contributing to something powerful, something great. And yes, I won’t lie. I miss Nate.”

“Then why don’t you go to him? Arrange some place for the two of you to meet. I told you, Simone. I won’t stand in the way if he’s who you want to be with. He’s my cousin and I love him. I know him too, probably better than you do. I know what was happening between y’all. And I’m under no delusions here. I know the only reason you’re in my house and at my table is because he asked you to do it…for him.”

“That’s why I came initially, yes. But now I’m here because I want to be. You’re a good man, Mark, and I…I think you could help me forget about Nate if you’d just…make love to me.”

Mark sighed. Didn’t this woman know how hard it was for him to have her in his house and not take advantage of what was being offered on a silver platter? But he was falling in love with Simone, and because of that, he didn’t simply want her body. When she lay beneath him, he wanted it to be because he had her heart as well.

“There’s nothing more I want in this whole world than to make love to you, sweetness. Hopefully one day that will happen, and when it does, I think it will be absolutely incredible. But when that day comes, it will not only be because we’re married on paper, but because we’re married in spirit as well.”

“But that’s what the sex will do, help us to become closer.”

“Sex might make us feel better, but it won’t make us closer, not for long. Not as long as Nate has your heart, Simone, and it’s clear that that is still the case. I love you, I want you, but I won’t be his stand-in.

“There’s strawberry shortcake for dessert. Would you like some?”

Simone watched as Mark walked into the kitchen. He really was attractive, she decided as he lazily put one muscled leg in front of the other. He was bulkier, but had a butt just like Na—
There I go again,
Simone thought.
Mark’s right. I am still in love with his cousin.
She was angry with him too. Since leaving Palestine, Nate had only covered her once, a month ago, when he’d come to visit Destiny while Mark had been out of town. The other times he’d refused her, using the lame excuse that she was married to his cousin. “Since when has the fact that folk were family stopped you from getting your groove on?” she’d asked incredulously. “Or should I call my
mother
or my
daughter
for an answer to that question!”

The air had fairly crackled for a moment before both had burst into laughter. The irony of the question had definitely not been lost on Nate, and he’d promised her that the next time he was in town, he’d take care of her. And boy had he ever. The day after, she’d been sore from the lavish attention he’d paid her, from the more than eight hours they’d spent rarely leaving the bed. But Simone was a very sexual woman, used to regular intercourse. And while this was true, she was also a selective woman; Simone didn’t sleep with just anybody. So this present situation presented a unique quandary. One she wasn’t quite sure how to handle.

Simone and Mark finished dinner and then Simone insisted on stacking the dishes in the dishwasher, even though the housekeeper did the heavier cleaning. When she finished, she joined Mark, who was sitting on the couch. She sat down right next to him and laid her head on his shoulder.

“Thanks for dinner,” she whispered in a voice filled with seduction. “You’re too good to me.” She turned then and kissed him on the cheek.

“You’re welcome,” Mark said, even as he gently eased away from Simone and got up from the couch.

“I’m a man of morals but not of stone, sweetness. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a woman and I’m sorely tempted to get inside that halter dress that has you looking so delicious. One of these days, when the time is right, I’m going to give all of this to you,” he said, running a hand over the huge bulge in his pants. “I’m going to give you all of this, and all of me. But it won’t be tonight. Pleasant dreams, Simone.”

“I thought you said you’d take care of me,” she said to his retreating back. “I thought you said you would make me happy!”

Mark reached the stairs and answered her without turning around. “It may not feel like it at this moment, but that’s exactly what I’m doing.”

Verniece Childress and Anne Beck had a lot in common. Maybe that’s why they were so close. As small as Palestine was, both women were from even smaller towns: Verniece from a farming enclave in Alabama and Anne from a Nebraska railroad town. Both had been raised in church and came from staunch, traditional Christian families. Both loved the Lord and wanted to serve Him. And both had ended up in Palestine for the same reason: Nate Thicke. But neither knew this yet.

For all their commonalities, there were differences. For one, Verniece was boisterous, where Anne was quiet and shy. Verniece loved church projects that put her in the limelight, while Anne was the worker bee behind the scenes. Verniece was light and short, Anne was dark and tall. Anne was already screwing the pastor, Verniece was still in the desirous phase.

But on this overcast Saturday in October, it was their commonalities that had them diligently working in the Gospel Truth sanctuary, helping to prepare for the next day’s service, which included the baptism ceremony performed every second Sunday. They chatted amicably as they folded programs, placing an announcement insert and offering envelope into each one.

“It’s amazing how God works, ain’t it?” Verniece asked in her endearing southern accent. “I mean, one day I saw the man on television, and the next day I saw this ad for a job in Palestine, one that paid more than I was making in Athens. I knew that couldn’t have been nobody but God what had me see that ad. I wasn’t even looking for a job!”

“God is good,” Anne said quietly.

“How’d you get here all the way from Nebraska?”

“My grandmother lives near here, remember? I came down to visit her three years ago and she kept going on and on about this new preacher. I wasn’t going to church at the time but she kept bugging me to drive her over here. And I did…. Moved down three months later and been here ever since.”

“You moved down here just to go to church?” Verniece asked.

“I moved down here to take care of my grandmother!” Anne responded in a rare show of feistiness. “Just like you moved here to make more money, right?”

“Girl, you know it!” Both women were quiet a moment, trying to believe their lies. Verniece continued. “So when you got here, there was what, just a couple hundred members?”

“Uh-huh. Reverend Thicke had just taken over the church the year before and from what my grandmother tells me, wasn’t but a handful of members when he got here. A year later there were two hundred members, then three hundred, four, five, and you saw that we had to move his anniversary this year just to handle all the people.
And
add extra services.”

“Was it easier to talk to Reverend in those days? You know, to make an appointment for counseling or whatever? Because I’ve been trying to get an appointment forever, and they keep telling me he’s busy and to talk to one of the associate ministers. But Reverend Thicke is the shepherd of this flock. I don’t want to talk to an associate minister. I want to talk to him!”

Anne looked at Verniece with eyes of understanding. “Back then, Reverend used to be at the back of the church at the end of service, shaking everybody’s hand. You just had to walk up to him and ask him.”

“Was Ms. Noble his assistant then?”

“Uh-huh. Grandma says their family has been at this church forever. But she wasn’t controlling his calendar so much, like she does now.”

“Did you ever get counseling from Reverend?”

Anne cleared her throat. “Uh-huh.” Both women stuffed programs quietly for a moment before Anne continued. “I was in a bad relationship and didn’t know how to get out of it. I mean, I knew how to get out but just not how to stay out. I’d leave, he’d come find me, apologize, and I’d get back with him. The last time I went back, things were okay for about a month. Then one night he came home late, drunk. When I asked him where he’d been, he beat me. He’d hit me before but this time…it was bad.”

“Did you call the police? Have him arrested?”

Anne shook her head no, answering in a voice even softer than the one she’d been speaking in. “He said he’d kill me if I did, and I believed him.”

Their conversation was interrupted by Katherine’s assistant, Charmaine. “Sorry, y’all, but these building fund envelopes just came in. Ms. Noble wants them added to the programs. I told her y’all were probably almost done but…” Charmaine didn’t finish the sentence, though her rolled eyes and facial expression communicated what she dared not voice—that what Ms. Noble wanted, Ms. Noble got.

“That’s fine, Charmaine,” Verniece said, reaching up and taking the box. “It’s not like I have a hot date tonight or anything.”

“Thank you.”

Verniece watched Charmaine until she left the sanctuary, then looked around to make sure they were still the only ones in the room. “So what did Reverend Thicke do?”

Anne smiled, remembering. “He made me feel good, Verniece. I waited a couple days before I called the office, and the sistah who answered must have heard the urgency in my voice. She put me straight through. As soon as I told him I was calling because my ex had beat me, he told me to come down to the office—immediately. After I told him the whole story, he called the police department and spoke to one of his friends who works there. They went over and got my stuff out of his house and Reverend gave me money for a hotel room for a whole month, so I could get myself together. No one had ever been that kind to me…. I owe him everything.”

Anne became quiet, remembering the rest of the story, the part she didn’t share with Verniece. How Reverend had given her his cell number as well, and how she’d called him almost every night, saying she did so because hearing his voice made her feel safe. And how one night when she was especially frightened, he stopped by the hotel room…and covered her. It had happened regularly since then, mostly on Tuesdays if he was in town. Anne knew there were other women on other nights, knew that before Simone Noble got married, she was one of his main girlfriends. But with Nathaniel Thicke, you didn’t care that he had other women. You just wanted to be one of them.

“What do you need counseling about, if you don’t mind me asking.”

Verniece sighed. “Honestly, I just need some di—direction for my life.”
I can’t believe I almost slipped and said what I almost slipped and said!

Anne looked keenly at Verniece for a moment, then went back to folding and stuffing the programs. “It might take you a while to get an appointment, but be patient. And keep trying.” Anne fixed Verniece with a knowing look. “Reverend Thicke is good at giving direction, Verniece. Real good.”