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Authors: Tiffany L. Warren

BOOK: Don't Tell A Soul
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“And you just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time?” I ask. “So what's she doing now?”
“Staying at the women's shelter over on Seventy-Ninth, because she's afraid to go back to the apartment at church for now.”
“Women's shelter?” I ask. “Nonsense! I've got lots of room. She can stay with me.”
“No. You don't want that spirit around your children,” Yvonne warns.
“What spirit?”
“I think she might be bisexual.”
Taylor's eyes get really huge. “Bisexual? She's bi?”
“I'm not sure, but she did kiss me, and I'm telling you it was a strange spirit. Hopefully, she got delivered from that when she went down in the water.”
I shake my head at Yvonne. “First, you judge me for a glass of wine, and now you're judging this girl for her past.”
Yvonne says, “She just kissed me a few days ago, Pam. That's almost the present.”
“I agree,” Taylor says. “A few days ago is pretty darn current.”
“Was it before or after she turned her life over to Christ?” I ask.
“Before. A couple days before,” Yvonne says.
“Then that's good enough for me. It's the past. She can stay at my house.”
“I'm not judging her,” Yvonne says. “I wouldn't still be her friend if I was. I just didn't want you to open Gretchen and Cicely up to anything, you know?”
“I pray over my children all the time. Can you call her and tell her she can stay with me?”
Yvonne jots the number on a piece of paper. “You can tell her at the Sister to Sister meeting tonight. It might seem strange if I do it.”
“Why? Because you could've offered her a place to stay yourself?” I ask.
“No. I just don't want her to think we're sitting around talking about her.”
“We are, though,” Taylor says. “Once she gets to know us, she'll understand that it's not gossip, and that we're just trying to find out folks' prayer requests.”
Taylor, Yvonne, and I burst into laughter at Taylor's joke. Taylor hated the Sister to Sister meetings when she first started. She called them gossiping sessions. And there is definitely gossiping going on.
The waitress shows up with our drinks and sits the glass of wine in front of me. Yvonne stares with a scowl on her face.
“Are you
really
going to drink that before we go to church? The sisters will smell it on your breath.”
I sigh loudly. “Please take this back and bring me a Coke.”
Yvonne grins victoriously. “Thank God!”
Well, since I can't have any wine for my nerves, I'm gonna get my grub on. Paella and warm, crusty parmesan bread sound right down my alley. And bump a salad. I need extra bread. No man, no alcohol . . . I might as well have my carbs.
Thank God for carbohydrates.
CHAPTER 38
YVONNE
 
 
 
 
T
he Sister to Sister meeting is packed today. I figured it would be. Anytime some drama pops off at the church, everyone shows up. I even warned Eva about it on the way here. Rhoda and Rochelle, who are usually unfashionably late, are front and center, and it looks like they've even brought the refreshments.
Rhoda rushes up to me and Eva as we join the circle of chairs. She gives me a tight hug and murmurs something in my ear that sounds like an unknown tongue.
“Sister Yvonne, God has truly got His hand on you. You have been beaten twice by big burly men and survived to tell us about it.” Rhoda has her “deep” facial expression on. It takes every bit of restraint for me to keep from rolling my eyes.
“Thank you, Rhoda. I know that I'm a child of God.”
Then Rhoda looks Eva up and down. “And you! I'm putting you on the prayer list indefinitely. I'm glad you went down in the water, because I've heard some shocking reports about you. But it's covered under the blood, so we're not gonna talk about it here.”
Eva looks at me with an alarmed expression on her face, and I shrug. I have no idea where Rhoda may have gotten her information, if she even has the correct story. Sometimes she's on reconnaissance missions to see what kind of scoop she can collect by acting like she already knows.
Taylor's friend Shaquan pushes past Rhoda and hugs Eva. “Congratulations, girl, on getting baptized and all. You inspired me.”
“Really?” Eva asks. “Did you get baptized, too?”
Shaquan laughs. “Well, I've been baptized a couple times already.”
“A couple?” Taylor says from her seat in the circle. “Girl, Shaquan done been down in the water at least a dozen times since we've been grown.”
Eva covers her mouth and giggles, and Shaquan gives Taylor the hand. “Listen at that hater here. I get baptized again every time I turn my life back around. It takes some of us longer than others to get all the way right.”
“Well,” I say, “the Israelites did walk around the wilderness for forty years. Where's Pam?”
Taylor lifts an eyebrow at me. “She went to make a phone call.”
I shake my head, because I gather from Taylor's expression that Pam's talking to her new friend. Part of me wants to call Troy and tell him myself that he needs to handle his household, but loyalty to my friend keeps me from doing so.
Carmisha must've come upon some money, because she's got on a new outfit. It's a jean jacket and skirt with patches of light blue jean and patches of black. Her hair is slicked down and gelled into a little mound on the top, and then there is an explosion of weave on the top. It looks like a weave waterfall. She's also got on a full face of makeup and a set of sparkly acrylic nails, each one a different color.
“Hey, Sister Yvonne,” she says as she hugs me. “I heard you done turned vigilante. That's what's up! I know who I want with me walking down a dark alley.”
“It was nothing, y'all!” I say. “My sister was being attacked, and I jumped into the fray. I'm afraid I didn't think of what I was doing.”
Pam emerges from outside with a huge smile on her face. She immediately wipes it off when she sees me looking at her. She takes a seat next to Taylor in the circle after waving to Eva and Carmisha.
“Let's get started,” Taylor says. “I've got some prayer requests.”
Rhoda says, “Come on, Rochelle. Set yourself on down so I can call this meeting to order.”
Rochelle hustles her ample behind over to the center. This poor child has gained so much weight since she became Rhoda's protégée and partner in crime. Probably all those after-church visits to the buffet restaurants.
“Bless the Lord, oh my soul, and all that is within me!” Rhoda sings. She gets everyone to join her in singing Myron Butler's version of “Bless the Lord,” one of my favorites. Everyone except Pam, that is. Pam has a pensive expression on her face as she gazes out the window.
“Thank God on this evening for waking me up in my right mind! For starting me on my way. For being a fence around my family, including my future cousin-in-law twice removed, Sister Rochelle. Thank you, oh, Lord.”
I am so bad. I just chuckled to myself about Rhoda thanking God for being in her right mind. I hope Eva didn't see that. I don't want her to form opinions of the sisters based on what I think. I've got plenty of history with Rhoda that lets me know she's absolutely in her
wrong
mind, but bless the Lord anyhow.
Taylor stands up to signal to Rhoda that it's her turn to speak. You have to do that with Rhoda, because she'll take up the entire time testifying and getting her weekly breakthrough.
“I need y'all to pray for me, Spencer, and Joshua. You know I don't usually tell my business, but I need y'all to pray for my son. He's going through so much these days, just trying to figure out the kind of man he wants to be, and his biological deadbeat now wants to be in his life. I can't see it.”
Shaquan rolls her eyes. “Luke needs to go somewhere and fall off the face of the earth.”
Taylor shakes her head at Shaquan, to quiet her down, I suppose. “What?” Shaquan says. “Everybody don't know that Luke is Joshua's father?”
“I mean, we
suspected,
” Rochelle says. “Since he look just like Luke and everything. But no one actually confirmed.”
“Oops, my bad!” Shaquan covers her mouth with her hand.
“I don't care if everyone knows,” Taylor says. “Yvonne knows, and we've moved past all that. So I don't care if everyone else knows.”
Eva raises her hand, and Rhoda acknowledges her. “Um . . . I—I need you all to pray for me. I'm staying at a women's shelter right now, and I just hope that I can find a job so that I can get a place of my own.”
“Well, I can help with that!” Pam says. “You can stay at my house for as long as you need.”
Rochelle says, “Your husband is okay with that?”
Pam clears her throat and ignores Rochelle's nosy question. She's probably already heard that Troy isn't staying at home. I don't know how Rhoda and Rochelle do it. They always manage to know the scoop. I bet they hang out in the bushes or the treetops with binoculars and bags of potato chips, because Rhoda doesn't go anywhere without a snack.
“I also want y'all to pray for me about some spiritual issues,” Eva says. “Before I got saved, I did some . . . um . . . unsavory things. And for some reason, the devil keeps calling them to my mind.”
Eva sits down quickly, as if uttering those words sapped all the energy from her. She looks at the floor and not at everyone else, but Rhoda's and Rochelle's eyes look like they're about to bug right out of their silly heads. I want to slap the both of them.
“I think we should do a twenty-four-hour prayer circle for Sister Eva,” Carmisha says. “They did that for me when I just couldn't stay away from my last baby daddy. It was like I could feel the Holy Spirit covering me.”
“I think we should start a twenty-four-hour prayer circle for our entire ministry,” Rhoda says. “The devil is sure busy. We've got leadership not showing up on Sunday mornings, secrets coming out left and right, and Pastor Brown has a spot on his lungs.”
I narrow my eyes at Rhoda for her little dig at me and Kingston. I was wondering how she was going to work that into the conversation. I've got something for her.
“Y'all put me on the prayer wheel, too,” I say. “There's a man in my life.”
Rhoda and Rochelle lean forward, bug-eyed and slack jawed. Heffas.
“And he says he just can't stop thinking about me,” I continue. “Ask the Lord to help me keep my virtue.”
Shaquan bursts out laughing. “Yvonne! You were married for a long time, right? I don't think you have any virtue left!”
Pam and Taylor join her laughter. I hold mine in, although it's hard, because Rhoda's entire gelatinous body is shaking like it's about to explode. I think she's got gossip overload. She's gonna pop if she doesn't get to share these stories.
Rhoda jumps up from her seat. “Twenty-four-hour prayer wheel it is! The Word says that if God's people would humble themselves and pray, He would heal the land. Lord, we need a healing!”
Rochelle goes down on her knees with tears in her eyes. Rhoda touches her on the forehead, and she falls to the floor. Eva views the spectacle and then looks at me. I give a little head shake.
Rhoda runs over to the cupboard and pulls out a bottle of vegetable oil from the kitchen ministry. “I need to anoint everybody's head with oil.”
“That is
not
the anointed oil, Rhoda!” Taylor says. “That's for the catfish dinners on Friday.”
I jump to my feet. I feel like I started all this, so I better bring the focus back on God, for real. Especially since Taylor and Eva need to see a real move of God. Pam too.
“Come on, y'all. Let's join hands and pray,” I say.
“What about the oil?” Rhoda says.
“We don't need it. It's just symbolic of the Holy Spirit, and we can have that if we get together on one accord in the name of Jesus,” I reply.
Rhoda sets down the bottle of oil and joins the circle. I start off the prayer. “Lord, we come to you humbly, asking for forgiveness for foolishness and for anything unlike you.” I say that part for myself. I shouldn't have poked Rhoda and Rochelle.
“We have some real issues, here, oh, God. Some real strongholds that need to be broken. We pray against bitterness and unforgiveness. No matter how many times we learn that lesson, Lord, it isn't enough. Teach us how to forgive.”
I squeeze Eva's hand tightly when I say this. I want her to know how much I forgive her. I hope she hasn't thought me judgmental, because then I'll have to ask her to forgive me.
“Dear God, make us to know that when we submit ourselves to you, you will help us to withstand every urge from the enemy. Even if they're called to mind, you will be able to neutralize them. By your stripes we are healed. In our minds, our bodies, and our spirits. We thank you in the matchless name of Jesus.”
When we open our eyes, Eva is shaking and has tears rolling down her face. She hugs me and holds on for dear life. Then she pulls me away from the circle to a corner of the room.
“Y-Yvonne,” she whispers, “my uncle raped me when I was little, and no one saved me, not even my grandmother. Thank you for praying about forgiveness. I know now that I don't forgive them.”
I stroke Eva's hair and hug her again. “Do you want to talk to your grandmother about it? I'll go with you if you like.”
She shakes her head. “My grandmother is dead.”
“Your uncle too?”
“No. He's dying, though. My cousin said that he caught the package about five years ago, and now he's in hospice.”
Eva breaks down again and falls into my arms. I'm so glad we decided to have real prayer in here. Sometimes I don't think we take this group seriously enough. There's nothing funny about prayer.
“Eva, honey. I know Pam offered you her place, but why don't you come and stay with me for a while?”
She stares at me, blinking tears, which spill all over her face. “Are you sure? I mean after—”
“I am not concerned about that. That's under the blood. We're going to get your stuff from that shelter, and you are going to stay with me.”
I never had a daughter, a goddaughter, or a niece, but I think God has placed this girl in my path for a reason. Maybe she's not the only one who needs a breakthrough. Maybe I need one, too.

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