Sex in the Sanctuary (24 page)

The Reverend turned and looked at his son then. “Lookin’ back, I realize that all those other women put together couldn’t compare with one Maxine Brook. And now I’m so glad that we made it this far and can look back down through the years and see how far God brought us. That we kept our family together, didn’t bring in step this and half that. And you know what else, son? Once I made the commitment to really love Maxine and to only be with her, it wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be.” He walked over to another picture then, a solo picture of Tai taken ten years earlier.

“You got yourself a good woman, boy. Smart, good-lookin’, even after all them babies. You know I knowed her daddy for years before she came along. We used to meet at conferences and such. Mama real special, too. It don’t take much to find a female, but it ain’t every day you find a real woman.” He continued, as if to himself as he walked toward the kitchen, “I know one thang. If you got a good, Godly woman, one who knows your faults and still loves you, gives ya four fine children and keeps the home fires burnin’ while you’re out on the battlefield fighting for the Lord, it’s only the biggest fool who lets her go. Y’all got any Coca-Cola?” The Reverend headed toward the kitchen humming “Jesus Keep Me Near the Cross” once again.

King didn’t go to April’s that night. In fact, he didn’t go anywhere at all. Hours after his father left he still sat in the oversized armchair, pondering his father’s visit. After following his father into the kitchen and grabbing cans of Coke
for both of them, he sat at the breakfast nook with the Reverend and talked for over an hour, his father sharing more of himself with King than he had in years—maybe in forever. They talked of safer, less personal topics, too. They talked about his father’s church district and the National Baptist Convention, about Mount Zion Progressive and the church’s expansion. They talked about the scorching Midwest summer, the lackluster baseball season and who might go to the Super-bowl. When his father left, they’d hugged, an act rarely practiced between them. He’d told his father he loved him, and his father had said the same. Their relationship had gone to another, more intimate level. It was a level King aspired to enjoy for some time to come.

Talking about his parents’ marriage made King pause to think of his own. For the first time in years, he went back to the beginning. He remembered how in love with him Tai had been, full of open admiration. The feeling had been mutual; her shy smile and gentle nature had melted him like butter. He’d been enchanted with the sprinkle of freckles across her nose and her full, lush breasts. He remembered how scared she’d been when he talked her into having sex that night in Boyd Turner’s borrowed “deuce and a quarter” at the Twin Drive-In. How they’d sneak around to be together because Tai’s father was not willing to hear of his daughter marrying King. Even then he had a reputation with the ladies. But Tai got pregnant and the father relented. King smiled, remembering their simple wedding on her Aunt Beatrice’s hundred-acre farm. Just family and a few friends, but it had been special. He remembered how the sparkle in Tai’s eyes had outshone the water reflected in Aunt Bea’s catfish pond, how the surrounding rolling, green hills dotted with lavender and daisies paled in comparison to Tai’s beauty in her empire-styled gown and rounding belly. Tai had told him how much she loved him and that this was the happiest day of her life because her dreams were coming true.

He remembered how Tai had been his cheerleader, his champion in those early years. How she’d go on and on to whomever would listen about what a great preacher King was, how he was going to lead millions, be a real preacher’s preacher. He remembered how she used to toil with him on his sermons, assisting him by looking up information and securing reference materials. Then she’d take the information and type it up in nice, concise outlines. How she’d draw large, red hearts in the corner to let him know she was with him in spirit as he preached from the pulpit, and that she loved him. She’d walk the streets, with little Michael in tow, passing out flyers inviting people to service. She’d go to the malls and to restaurants, to movie theaters and grocery stores. She’d hang them up at beauty parlors and mom-and-pop establishments. She loved and mothered everyone who came to the church, enveloping the ministry in a warmth recognized by everyone and for which she soon became affectionately known as Queen Bee. While barely an adult herself, she still had a mothering influence. Early on, members sought her out for advice because she was a concerned listener, a trusted confidante. It was no wonder, he mused, that she was such an excellent mother to their children. Instinctively she focused on, gave attention to and nurtured them unconditionally. “Then why doesn’t she nurture me?” he asked aloud.

Because you’re not here.

King knew His voice, but remained silent. He didn’t know if he wanted to have this conversation.

You haven’t been here for a long time.

“How can you say that, Lord? I
live
here.”

No, you exist here. You sleep, eat, shower and change here. You live at the church. You live at April’s.

King wasn’t trying to hear this. “I
live
here,” he repeated emphatically, like a petulant child.

Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also. Is Tai your treasure?

King was silent. Damn, God was playing hardball!

Son?

“You know I love Tai, Lord. She’s the mother of my kids. We’ve been together since we were their age. How can I help but love her?”

I didn’t ask you if you loved her. I asked if she was your treasure.

“I love Tai more than I love anyone else. There’re just certain things I need that I don’t get from her.”

And why do you think that is?

“It’s not my fault!”

I wasn’t going to bring up the f-word, but now that you mention it…

King got up, addressed the empty room. “Look, I never said I was perfect.”

Well, at least you didn’t lie.

King slumped into the chair in a huff. “I’ve tried my best. I’ve done my part. There’s no use trying to feed a fire that’s long gone out.”

Many times, son, one looks at a mound that seems but ashes. However, if one stokes the fire, blows wind on it, tiny, glowing embers that are buried beneath the ashes will start to burn, and those embers will become a flame, and that flame can heat a cold room, or a cold heart.

Was it possible? Was there any chance that he could feel for Tai the way he used to? Feel the passion, the tenderness, the romance that was theirs as newlyweds? He could still remember how his heart used to skip a beat when she walked into the room. How her quiet presence had been the calm in the storm of those early church years.

He put his head in his hands, remembering. King had all but given up on his marriage to Tai, and knew she had done the same. Their separate rooms were but an outward manifestation of an inward truth. They shared the same house but
lived separate lives. Was there a way that something that seemed so dead could live again?

I am the resurrection and the life. Remember that, son. Remember me.

King went upstairs and undressed. He sat on the edge of the bed, thinking of everything and nothing at all. He looked at the clock on the bedside table. Ten o’clock in Los Angeles. He grabbed the phone and the piece of paper beside it. He tapped the table abstractedly as he waited for Tai to pick up after being connected to her suite. The hotel’s voice mail came on. King hung up without leaving a message. But when he went to sleep that night, he dreamt of Tai. It was a good dream; they were talking, laughing. And that, he thought when he awoke the next morning, was a start.

For whatever reason, Millicent had never had many close female friends. From the time she was a young girl growing up in Portland, Oregon, she was often the outsider. Since she was taller than average, awkward and shy, the neighborhood girls would often mistake her introverted nature for arrogance. Because her mother always dressed her like a princess, the other kids thought Millicent’s family was rich, but they were solidly middle-class. The fact was her mother, a former model, loved to sew, and though you wouldn’t know it, most of Millicent’s early wardrobe was home-sewn original designs. Millicent loved how her mom would make sure everything matched, from her undies to her socks to her shoes to the bows in her hair. And speaking of hair,
that
got her in trouble big-time. She couldn’t help it that her hair was long and thick, and that her mother kept it immaculate, often giving her Shirley Temple curls with bright, starched bows. More than once she came home crying after her jealous, nappy-headed classmates had knocked her down, pulled her hair and stolen her pretty hair doodads. She could remember how the girls
would make fun of her, calling her names, picking fights, always instigating. At first she tried to befriend these bullies with offers to play with her dolls or share her cookie and candy treats, but after scores of rejections she decided that the best defense was a good offense. She started ignoring her female classmates and neighbors, choosing to hang out with the boys instead. They
never
picked on her, and
always
welcomed her to hang out with them. From the time she was twelve until she was in her late twenties, Millicent always had a boyfriend. And now, although she admitted a new coworker might be a contender, there was only one man that totally caught her eye and held her heart. She couldn’t wait forever, however, and wanted something to happen. Right now!

Only, at this moment, Millicent longed for a close female friend, needed a friend. Who could she turn to? Her friend and prayer partner, Alison, had recently relocated to the East Coast to take care of an ailing mother. She was sure no one else she knew would begin to understand, and she wasn’t even sure Alison would agree with her more recent thoughts which she’d decided not to share. Who could she trust enough to confide in, with whom could she share her feelings? Anyone at the church was out of the question. She had come close to sharing her feelings more fully with Sister Vivian, but something held her back.
Don’t let your right hand know what your left hand is doing.
That was what the Word said. No, there was no help there.

Millicent turned from her idle computer screen and looked out the window of her thirty-story, downtown office building. It was a clear, beautiful California day, and the view of buildings and streets and cars and people stretched out endlessly before her. There had to be somebody, but who?

She thought about her sometime workout partners, Jen and Patricia. Although she wouldn’t consider them close friends, they had developed a warm camaraderie limited primarily to the fitness center. She felt closer to Jen than to Patricia, but
she just couldn’t see making Jen privy to this very personal, very special aspect of her life. Besides, Jen was always gossiping about somebody, and she needed someone who could keep a confidence in this situation. She thought about her coworkers. One by one, the names came and were checked off in her mind. Again, she liked to keep her private life private, and with the amount of competition already prevalent in the marketing department, she didn’t need anyone with any information on her that she didn’t necessarily want to get out. In time, the whole world would know, and she herself would shout the announcement from the rooftops. But for now, mum was the word.

Millicent spent the next couple hours talking to potential customers, meeting with clients and putting out fires. After a quick lunch eaten in her office, she pulled out her reports and scanned them again for accuracy. She felt confident that with her plan implemented, the department could hit the numbers she’d forecasted. Yes, she was ready for the meeting, and she was assured the “big boys” would be pleased. She knew already that the vice president, Mr. Burroughs, was impressed with her work and with her. More than once, he’d hinted about her taking a position as director, a position that would place her salary in the six figures but would also involve a good amount of travel as well as outside sales. No, this wasn’t the time for Millicent to be under extra pressure and away from home. She needed to be close to the ministry and to Cy.

Cy. Millicent stood up and looked out the window. Cy Taylor, her future husband. A little squiggle of anxiety flashed through her stomach. Could it really be happening? Could she really be right in believing that Cy was the man of her dreams, the man God had chosen to be her husband since eternity?

Millicent walked back over to her desk and sat down. She grabbed the S.O.S. materials she had been working on and
placed them in her briefcase. The first three Saturdays of the summer had flown by, and now they were ready for the fourth and final gathering. Millicent would be meeting with Sister Vivian, Sistah Tai and other members of Ladies First later that evening. They would go over details for the final day, including the special luncheon with guest speaker Iyanla Vanzant. Focusing her attention back on the job at hand, she clicked on a computer file and opened it up. She scrolled down the page of information, marketing strategies and suggestions for one of her newest clients, a prestigious investment company whose satisfaction with her work was very important to the firm.

The firm.
Hum.
That was the other question Millicent pondered. Would she continue working after she married Cy? She’d like to continue with some type of financial independence, but, of course, her place would be beside her husband, and since he was very wealthy, money wouldn’t be an issue for her. Would he give her an allowance, equal access to a joint bank account? Or would it be a monthly or quarterly sum to deposit in the bank of her choice? There was so much about Cy she didn’t know!

One thing she did know through her relationship with Sister Vivian, taking care of a busy husband was a full-time job! Millicent intended to be Cy’s right-hand woman. She wanted to help him with everything, especially as he moved farther into the ministry. Millicent smiled as she thought of how well she and Cy worked together. She was certain he would pastor his own church at some point, and then her responsibilities as first lady would be tremendous. Until then, she would ask Sister Vivian to take her under her wing and show her the ropes, and Millicent couldn’t think of a better woman to emulate. Vivian had it all, a beautiful home, wonderful husband and fabulous children.

Children! It was something Millicent hadn’t considered. Would Cy want children? Would she? At thirty-two, it was
something she would have to decide before long. Perhaps it was the fact she was an only child or her limited experience being around children. Or it could be her disdain for the unruly, crying, bratty children she encountered in church and other public places, but the thought of changing a smelly diaper or dabbing an infant’s spittle made her stomach churn. She couldn’t see herself doing that in a million years. Maybe she and Cy would be content to work for the Kingdom. Maybe their children could be various areas of ministry. She could give back to the human race by being a mentor and role model for teenage girls and young women. Yes, teenagers she could handle, but a toddler? Not as likely. Still, the thought of a child with Cy had its merits. Their baby would be gorgeous. A little boy who looked just like Cy, a son to carry on their legacy and their name. A tangible demonstration of the immense love she and Cy felt for each other. Well, maybe she could handle one child, with an assistant and a nanny, of course.

Goodness, managing the household staff alone would require a great deal of organization. She knew Cy lived in a penthouse, but after their marriage, she was certain he’d think it best for them to buy a home—investing in their future. More appropriate to their status as a married couple, especially with the dinners and holiday parties and other social functions they’d be hosting. They would need a home that adequately displayed their social standing. Millicent thought about the possibilities. Beverly Hills was nice, but overrated. Bel Air was exclusive but overpriced. No, Cy would probably want to have a view of the ocean. Perhaps he’d like a home in the Marina or Playa del Rey or Palos Verdes or lovely Pacific Palisades, with their equally spectacular views of both ocean and mountain. The possibilities were endless, and of course, it also depended on what her husband’s desires were. She probably didn’t need to put a lot more energy into it until she’d discussed it with him. All these thoughts were
making her absolutely giddy. She smiled widely and almost laughed out loud. The new male coworker chose this moment to walk by her doorway.

“I hope that smile is for me.” He winked.

Millicent grabbed her reports and headed for the door.
Not!
Passing him, she looked back and returned the wink. “That’s for me to know, and you to find out!” She could feel his eyes boring into her backside as she sashayed down the hall and into the conference room.