Sinful Too (32 page)

“Good morning, Brother Pastor,” Phillip said, with Rose two steps behind him. “Rough night, huh?” Richard chuckled lightly to keep from crying.

“I should have known you’d caught wind of it. Morning, Rose,” Richard added, out of common courtesy, knowing full well she stood with Nadeen despite the bloodline she shared with him.

“Yep, and the wind is kicking up quite a bit of gossip,” Rose informed him. “Question is, what are you going to do about it?”

Richard’s eyes softened before he answered. “Everything in my power with God at the wheel.” He awaited her response. It was a safe bet that she’d relay his sentiment to Nadeen as soon as she could.

“Oomph” was her stoic reply. She squeezed Phillip’s hand then hopped on the first travel coach. Never had such a short dissertation sent Richard reeling like Rose’s potent utterance. She’d conveyed her position soundly without saying a solitary word. It was very likely Nadeen would be just as decisive when refusing to mince hers.

“Is it worse than I thought?” Richard asked, praying it wasn’t.

“Man, it’s worse than you can imagine. Nadeen was in the business center at the crack of dawn booking three tickets to Georgia.” Phillip patted him on the shoulder, knowing he needed a hug. “She still loves you. You’ve got to remember that when you’re putting your marriage back together.”

“My kids, Phillip, I can’t have them not believing in me,” Richard confessed.

“They’re daughters, Richard. That means they’ll never give up on you. Now, if you had to depend on two rusty-butt boys, you’d be better off moving in with me and Rose.”

“I hear you, although I don’t think Rose would have me.”

Phillip considered the chances then grinned playfully. “No, probably not, but Rose isn’t the conscience of the congregation. You’re still our leader so you’d probably want to fix your face and handle your business in private. Buck up, here comes the gang.” Phillip’s gaze landed behind Richard. A frown weighed it down like an anchor. Nadeen raised her sunshades to read from a small sheet of paper she’d pulled from her purse. Her eyelids were red and swollen. It made Phillip sad to think what she must have suffered. Richard felt it too.

“Hey, y’all. Nadeen, I . . .”

“Not yet,” she answered, in such a way that made Richard wonder if she would ever be ready or willing to discuss their marriage and family again.

“I understand.” Richard manufactured a smile for Mahalia then reached out to help with her backpack. She sidestepped him, snatching her bag from his grasp.

“No thank you,” she said, rushing her words. “I can manage.” She sniffled, then followed her mother onto the bus.

“I could use some help, Daddy,” sang Roxanne, dragging a carry-on bag like a reluctant puppy. Richard’s heart melted inside his chest when she offered to share hers with him.

“I could use some too. Thank you so much, Roxy.” He reached down and hoisted her off the ground. He squeezed his youngest child so hard, she wiggled to get loose.

“Ouch, Daddy, I can’t breathe!”

Richard relaxed his grip immediately. “You made me so happy I got too excited.”

“Well, the next time you help me, not so rough.” She winked at him then giggled heartily. “Bye, Daddy. See you when we get home, if Mommy lets you in.” Richard looked away when a wave of emotion swept over him. Roxanne exhibited the kind of love Richard needed to rebuild his life: unconditional love, giving for the sake of giving. If the other women in his household followed suit, he might stand a chance. On the other hand, Roxanne was only eight, uncorrupted by pain and fashioned in the image of innocents. In her eyes, Richard could do no wrong. Nadeen wasn’t so naïve and Mahalia knew better.

During the eight-hour bus trip home Nadeen stared endlessly out of the window. Rose entertained Roxanne as best she could in the seats directly across from her. Mahalia prayed all the way. She wanted Dior dead. Among her sincere petitions begging for the heartless homewrecker to be wiped off the face of the earth was an unwavering plea for Dior to meet with a slow, horrible death so she would know what it felt like to drown in an ocean of agony. With every prayer Mahalia grew more determined, more engrossed in hate. She boldly summoned Satan for assistance and pledged her allegiance to him if he carried out her wishes. Although misguided, she meant every word.

On the third bus, less than half of the merriment that had ushered the men to New Orleans accompanied them home. Phillip overheard whispers questioning the pastor’s extracurricular activities, how long he’d been giving in to his carnal man at the detriment of the inner one. There was nothing Phillip could do but hope the murmurs subsided instead of billowing into a heated fire of discontent. Phillip labored to find a decent moment of rest while vowing silently to stand by his friend. He was tortured nonetheless by restlessness.

In the first seat on the bus, Richard slept like a baby. Concern for his job was absent. The survival of his family was paramount. Everything else was a distant second. In the back of his mind, Richard assumed his tenure in the church was a lock. Phillip couldn’t disagree more.

At nine thirty on Saturday evening, Richard settled the account with the bus drivers in the rear of the church parking lot. He glanced at his watch as the last few members started for home. Nadeen was the first to leave once they had arrived. She couldn’t get away from Richard and the memories of a disastrous trip fast enough. The blame lay squarely on his shoulders. Now that the hotel and travel bills had been paid and the work M.E.G.A. set out to do completed, Richard faced a daunting task. Building an overwhelmingly successful ministry constructed for the purpose of saving souls was easy compared to saving Nadeen and the girls from the fallout over his impropriety.

Richard entered his ritzy subdivision, with mansions lining the landscape. He still found it hard to face himself. It was even more difficult addressing Nadeen. As the garage door opened, Richard breathed a sigh of relief. His wife’s car was there and it hadn’t been loaded down with luggage. He thanked God for however much time he’d been given to make appeals and amends. When he tried to jiggle the doorknob leading from the garage to the utility room, it wouldn’t budge. Before he could question why Nadeen felt it necessary to shut him out once again, he heard a car approaching the house from the circular driveway.

Richard exited the garage. He squinted into the headlights of a blue airport shuttle van. His first inclination was to send the taxi away. Nadeen opened the front door as he rounded the van on the driver’s side. “Hey, man, you can go!” Richard yelled angrily.

“No he can’t either!” Nadeen battled back. “I called him and I say he stays until I get me and the girls loaded up.” She was indignant and tired, too tired to see her journey forward stalled by the likes of the man who put himself ahead of her. “Might I remind you the police in this city have a long history of brutality against stubborn black men? They would love coming out to a house like this and dragging your butt across the lawn in handcuffs.” Nadeen assured the driver of his safety when he declined to get out and retrieve the luggage from the den. “He won’t mess with you or I’ll see to it that the cops deal with him.”

“Is this how it ends, Nadeen?” Richard asked, his eyes narrowing. “Huh? You’d really call the law on me when all I’m trying to do is stop my wife from leaving my home? I love you and don’t want our marriage to fall apart over a senseless affair that didn’t mean nothing to me in the first place.”

Nadeen shoved Richard aside when the driver made his way toward the opened door. “Oh, you’re a piece of work, Richard. What about all I’ve wanted? Didn’t it occur to you how lonely and hurt I was when you’d come home late without a decent excuse as to where you’d been? Obviously being with Dior did mean something to you. Play that song somewhere else because I don’t like the way it sounds.”

Irritated, Richard watched as the van driver stepped into his house. “Hey, man, hold on. I’ll get them. Just stay out there. This is my family and . . .” he huffed, glaring at the stranger. He waved the man off then followed Nadeen inside. “Hey. Nadeen, are you saying we can’t talk about this?”

“When it was time to talk you weren’t interested in hearing what I had to say. Now the shoe’s on the other foot. As a matter of fact, you’d better watch your step before that shoe is up your behind. I’m not playing, Richard. If you want a fight, that’s what you’ll get.” Richard felt as if he’d fallen off a tall building without a net. His marriage was plummeting toward a gruesome end.

“Okay, how about now? Look-look,” he pleaded. Nadeen sorted through the mail she planned to take with her. “Since you put my stuff out in the hall, I haven’t talked to Dior nor do I intend to. Believe me, now I see how dumb it was letting myself get too close to her.”

“Now, now, now.
Now
is too late. Me, Roxy, and Mahalia are going to Atlanta on the eleven fifty flight. If you make us miss that plane, I’m prepared to use your platinum card to book a private charter. If you don’t mind paying forty-five thousand dollars then I won’t mind charging it.” When he remained silent, she nodded her head assertively. “Thought so.”

With luggage in hand, Richard eyed Nadeen as he followed her out to the van. “Where’re the girls?” he questioned. His voice was shaky, and she peeked to see if he was crying. Even in her plight, she was still interested in his well-being.

“They’re upstairs in the master bedroom. I wanted them out of the way in case you decided to get silly. They’ve seen and heard enough already. Oh and you’ll need to talk to Roxy about using bad words.”

“Bad words? Since when?”

“Since last week, but I’ve been too busy worrying about my husband’s girlfriend to tell you about it. And, I found this when going through Mahalia’s things.” She unwrapped the small hand carved charm Mahalia had purchased at the novelty store in New Orleans. Mahalia didn’t deny getting it but she wouldn’t admit as to why.

“That looks like some kind of voodoo trinket,” he said, pulling at the hair tied around the doll’s neck.

“Because that’s exactly what it is,” Nadeen griped smugly. She gestured to the driver that she would be along in a few minutes when he appeared to be getting antsy.

Richard jogged up the stairs then hurried down the hall to the master suite. When he opened the door, he found his daughters huddled together on the chaise longue. Roxanne smiled lovingly when she saw her father until Mahalia persuaded her to drop the pleasantries. “Don’t forget, we’re mad at him.”

Roxanne stomped her foot then crossed her arms defiantly. “Oh yeah, I forgot.”

“Hey, girls, I hear you’re going to visit Gramps in Atlanta,” Richard said, pretending to be at ease when it was apparently otherwise. “Roxy, come over here and give me a hug.” The small child reserved her compliance, awaiting permission from her chaperone. Eventually Mahalia gave her the okay. Roxanne giggled as she sprinted toward her father’s arms.

“I wasn’t really mad at you, Daddy,” she whispered in his ear. “ ’Halia tried to talk me into it.”

“Oh, is that so?” Richard asked, enjoying another secret moment with his youngest child. “Who talked you into saying the bad words your mama told me about?”

Roxanne frowned after realizing she’d been ratted out. “Mommy told you about those three I learned from Herman Kelly?”

“Sure did, and we don’t want to hear you saying those kinds of things anymore.”

Roxanne smirked in a cavalier manner that surprised Richard as much as what she said next. “Well, that’s nothing. Mommy can take those dirty words from me. I know two more good ones.” She winked at Mahalia for increasing her vocabulary. “Bye, Daddy,” she said, before leaving the room.

“I guess it’s just you and me, kid.” Richard offered as an olive branch. “Are we going to make it, me and you, I mean?” Mahalia hid her tears with both hands. She didn’t want to leave without speaking to him, but the heartache pierced so deeply. Richard threw his arms around her. He squeezed tightly. “I know, kitten, I know. It’s rough. Daddy messed up but I’ll take care of it.”

Suddenly she peered into his eyes like the woman-child she’d become. “Kitten? I can’t remember the last time you called me that.”

“Then it must’ve been too long. Let me walk you out. Your mother’s in a hurry.” They descended the staircase arm in arm. Nadeen stood at the base of it, imagining how beautiful Mahalia would be in a ball gown, escorted by her father. She reached out for her daughter’s hand when they made it to the foyer.

“Come on or we’ll be late,” she muttered tenderly. “What did your father say about that thing you brought back?” Richard had forgotten about the trinket in his pocket. He pulled it out then held it in the palm of his hand.

“Mahalia, I know this is a rough patch in your life but things never get so bad that you run to black magic. Never invite Satan into your heart. It’s too hard getting him out.” Nadeen agreed, although he should have taken his own advice.

Mahalia tried to make sense of it, why he wagered his family on a diversion like Dior. “I just wanted her to leave you alone, Daddy. I prayed and I prayed to God but He didn’t hear me. Even if He did, He didn’t answer in time.”

Richard brushed his hand against Mahalia’s face. Her frailty was heartbreaking. “God heard you, I’m sure of it. You don’t need things like this. He’ll answer in His own time.” Richard popped the head off the trinket, tossed the doll down on the floor at his feet. “See there, it’s worthless.”

He waved goodbye as they climbed into the van, all looking back at him through raised windows. “I’ll call you, Nadeen. I love you!” he yelled, when they pulled out of the driveway. “Mahalia, take care of your sister. I’ll miss you.”

Thirty

Let It Shine

M
orning came too fast. Richard awoke in his bed, fully clothed and hungover from the bottle of champagne someone had given him as a gift for ten years of service to M.E.G.A. He never planned on popping the cork but losing sleep for two consecutive nights didn’t appeal to him. Once he threw both legs over the side of the bed, he stretched and moaned.
My head is ringing
, he thought.
I’ll do better after two cups of Nadeen’s coffee.
He was using the bathroom with the toilet seat up when it came to mind that there was no one demanding it be lowered afterward nor would there be freshly brewed coffee on standby to help him meet the day.