A Preacher's Passion (28 page)

Princess bit her fingernails nervously as she watched the once familiar sights on Kansas City’s Interstate 35 roll past her. She’d told no one she was coming home, and since she also hadn’t called in almost a month, didn’t know what kind of reception she’d get. It had only been six months since she’d come home for Thanksgiving, almost a year since she’d first set out for UCLA and her new life. Tears filled Princess’s eyes as she mourned for the excited, innocent girl who’d boarded the plane bound for LA, full of hopes and dreams about college life. That girl was long gone, and belatedly Princess realized that although she wanted to, she couldn’t go back and get her.

The news that Fawn carried Kelvin’s baby put Princess in bed for a week. To his too-little, too-late credit, Kelvin moved out of the condo. Unfortunately, if rumors were accurate, he’d moved in with the mother-to-be of his child. Princess relived the pain of her abortion every time she thought of them together.

Finals, and the thought of failing the semester after months of hard work, was the only thing that pulled her out of her depression, that and her friend Joni, who became a one-woman cheerleading squad and at times a drill sergeant.

“You are
not
going to die over this,” she’d voiced emphatically, forcing Princess to eat, and after six days of nonstop use, taking away the drugs that Princess used to hide the truth. “You can’t smoke the pain away, but you can smoke your GPA away.” Joni had pranced around the room, chanting the statement until Princess, laughing for the first time since Fawn’s baby news, finally got out of bed. Burying her head in studies had gotten her through the remaining weeks. It was also the excuse she used for not calling home. After finals, she felt it was easier to go home than call home. So that’s what she’d done.

Princess felt her heart pounding as the cab turned the corner and she noticed her grandmother, Mama Max’s, car in the driveway, along with another car with Chicago tags.
Michael.
Her older brother, home from his final year at Northwestern University. For some unknown reason, she teared up again. She and Michael had been close once, but the distance between them had grown this past year. A part of her was filled with trepidation, but the bigger part was glad he too was home. She felt she could use a big brother right about now.

“Hey everybody, it’s Princess!” Tabitha yelled when she saw Princess gathering her suitcases from the taxi. She ran outside and picked one up for her sister. Her twin brother, Timothy, was right behind her. Tai met her at the door and gave her a big hug. “It’s so good to see you, Princess. I missed you!”

Princess almost lost it right there. “You too, Mama,” she replied, a bit too cheerfully. She broke the embrace and walked into the living room. There her father, King; her grandfather, the Reverend Doctor Pastor Bishop Overseer Mister Stanley Obadiah Meshach Brook Jr.; Mama Max, and Michael gathered. They all rushed to hug her, breaking the hold she had on her tears.

“What are y’all doing here?” she asked. Knowing how the Spirit talked to her grandmother, she asked her sincerely, “Did God tell you I was coming home?”

“Oh, the Lord tells me everything about you,” Mama Max answered.

Princess’s look turned serious.

“Oh, girl, I’m just playing with you. After more than half a century in the pulpit, your grandpa here is fixin’ to announce his retirement.”

“Oh, okay,” Princess said with relief. There were some things she definitely did
not
want God discussing with her grandmother.

“You need to get that weave tightened,” Michael said, teasing her as he’d done since they were children. “You’re trying to look like Beyoncé and instead you’re looking like one of Bebe’s kids.”

“Forget you, Michael,” she said with a hollow laugh.

“Yeah, Michael, please,” Mama Max added. “With those padlocks or deadbolts or whatever that is on your head….”

“Dreadlocks, Ma,” Michael deadpanned.

“Yeah, well, you got the dread right.”

Princess wanted to open her mouth and join in the teasing. But she could feel an avalanche of tears threatening to escape, a torrent no amount of time away from home could explain. She grabbed a carry-on and hurried toward the staircase. “I need to, uh, get something,” she said, before running upstairs.

Tai looked at Mama Max. King looked at Tai. The twins looked at each other and shrugged in typical fifteen-year-old fashion, and Michael looked toward the stairs. “What was that about?” he asked the room.

“She’s probably overwhelmed,” Tai said. “I’ll go check on her.”

Tai opened the door to find a near hysterical Princess sobbing into a pillow. “Baby, baby, what’s wrong?” she asked, taking Princess into her arms.
Oh, Lord. Is she pregnant?
“I’m here, Princess,” Tai continued reassuringly. “No matter what you’re facing, we’ll get through it together.”

For several minutes, Princess couldn’t talk for crying. It was as if all the hurt, pain, rejection, betrayal, and heartache of the past year were spilling out of her heart.

“Me and Kelvin broke up, Mama,” she said between sobs. “He got another girl pregnant!”

Well, thank God it’s not you,
is what Tai thought. “Princess, I’m sorry,” is what she said.

“But it hurts so bad, Mama. I gave him everything, did anything he asked me. So many things I shouldn’t have, so many things I’m ashamed of.”

Tai wasn’t sure she wanted to know what those things were. Still she asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Yes!
Princess screamed inside. She wanted to tell her mother about the drugs, about the wild sex, and especially about the abortion. She wanted to bare her soul and cleanse her conscience. But she was too embarrassed and ashamed. She felt used and degraded, and didn’t think her mother would understand. In fact, she thought her mother would reject her outright if she ever learned how far from her home training she’d strayed.

Princess shook her head no. “Mama, is there any sin God won’t forgive?”

Tai searched her daughter’s face for the words left unspoken. “No, baby,” she said finally. “There is nothing you can do to stop God from loving you.”

“But I turned my back on Him, I stopped loving
Him
. I haven’t been to church in a really long time. I even started thinking there might not be a God.”

Tai’s eyes misted over at that revelation. What had happened to her baby, she wondered. What had the world done to so shake her daughter’s faith?

She placed her hands on her daughter’s shoulders. “You may have rejected God, but He never rejected you.”

“But you don’t know, Mama, what all I’ve done.”

“What, the drinking, getting high, promiscuous sex, stuff like that?”

Princess’s eyes widened as Tai ran down four of the five items on Princess’s list of shame. “How’d you know?”

“Believe it or not, I was your age once. And I had friends your age. There’s nothing new under the sun, Princess. Every generation feels they’re the first to experience growing up. But we all go through it. Yes, the culture changes: the music, politics, fashion, slang. But the basics, the trials, tribulations, and even victories that help us grow into ourselves? They’re basically the same.”

“Mama, I…”

“What is it, Princess?”

The tears started anew as Princess struggled with whether or not to tell Tai about the terminated pregnancy. In the end, she felt that God might forgive her for that action, but that Tai never would. In time she might tell her mother about the abortion, but not now.

“I love you,” she said instead.

“I love you too, Princess.”

They sat cuddled in each other’s arms for a long time, until Princess ran out of tears.

“You were right, Mama,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. “About grown folk’s pleasure coming with grown folk’s pain. I wish I’d listened to you. Some things would not have happened, and I wouldn’t hurt so much.”

“Earth has no sorrow that heaven can’t heal. Put Christ back in your life, Princess. I promise you’ll get your joy back; you’ll have even more than before.”

“But when, Mama…how?”

Tai looked at Princess with every ounce of a mother’s love shining in her eyes. “We’ll do it together, baby. One prayer, one praise, one day at a time.”

Although small, Princess offered her first genuine smile of the day. It would take time, but maybe this wasn’t the end, maybe things could get better. That’s what Tai said, and now Princess was ready to give her mother credit for knowing a little bit more about life than she thought she did.

“Mama,” she said, hugging her close again, “thanks for coming to check on me. It’s good to be home.”

The flickering candlelight danced across the stark, white linen, which showed off the porcelain and silver to perfection. Crystal goblets came together and clinked softly, a perfect complement to the sounds of light jazz in the restaurant’s background ambiance. The brilliant colors of a July sunset streaked across the room.

“To you,” Stanley said, hoisting his glass of sparkling water toward Passion.

Passion acknowledged the toast but asked, “To me?”

“Of course. Because of the evidence in my case, evidence you’d gathered, Carla conceded to everything I asked for in the divorce.”

“You know, Dr.—”

“Stanley, remember?”

“Right.” Passion took a nervous sip of her sparkling water. “Stanley, I don’t feel good about what I did. I know that what Pastor Carla did was also wrong, but two wrongs don’t make a right.”

Stanley set down his goblet and leaned back in his chair. “You know what I think, Passion? I think that in a peculiar sort of way, things are working out just as they’re supposed to. What the devil meant for evil, God just might work out for good.”

“How so?”

“I’ve been observing you through this entire process, Passion—how invaluable you’ve been to me these past few months, how supportive. Your unwavering commitment to the ministry even while it’s in turmoil, even your desire to not speak badly about my ex-wife. These are commendable traits, virtuous traits.”

“Oh, I’m a long way from Proverbs thirty-one,” Passion countered.

“Not too far,” Stanley said in a husky voice.

Passion was taken aback, and became preoccupied with eating her dinner to cover up her confusion. Was her pastor flirting? Was
the
Dr. Stanley Lee coming on to her? True, she’d been a sounding board for him ever since their second meeting, where she turned over copies of the pictures she’d taken and shared all she knew about Lavon and Carla’s affair. They’d exchanged numbers and after the first few times, Passion began looking forward to receiving Pastor’s calls, even though they often came late at night, after his long workday, and she had to be at work early the next morning.

When he’d become angry and depressed at the reality of Carla’s betrayal, ashamed at the public airing of the disgrace, and then alarmed at the sudden drop in church membership, Passion switched from sounding board to counselor, offering encouragement, compassion, and the assured belief that “this too will pass.” She reminded Stanley that he was God’s man, an eloquent, intelligent minister, excellent father, and that he had been a loving and faithful husband. Each compliment had been a gust of wind under his slacking sails. The calls had gone from once to several times a week.

But Passion had remained reserved. This was her pastor and, although he’d filed for divorce, still a married man. She hadn’t exposed Carla’s affair to take her husband. So during this time her position, in her mind, had been that of trusted confidante to her pastor, fueled, she believed, by the unique yet pivotal role she’d played in his breakup. And even if she were interested (and who wouldn’t be?), Stanley was still a married man. After swallowing her food, taking a sip of water, and wiping her mouth with her napkin, she’d recovered enough to say as much to Stanley.

He smiled. “Yes, technically I’m still married for another four months. I’d never ask you to do anything inappropriate. But surely you know that I find you attractive, and without sounding arrogant, I think you do me as well.”

Passion’s cheeks warmed at Stanley’s words. “I find you extremely attractive,” she admitted. She was rescued from saying anything further by the waiter bringing dessert menus.

“I’m not much for the single life,” Stanley continued, after they’d decided to split a hot fudge sundae. “I like the idea of having a woman by my side, a woman in the home. Over the past week or so, I’ve begun to believe you might be that woman.”

Inside, Passion was excited, confused, and scared at the same time. Of all the things she thought would happen as a result of her actions, this wasn’t it. In fact, when she took the pictures to
LA Gospel,
she hadn’t thought one second past her anger. It wasn’t until weeks passed that she began to fully process what she’d done, and to regret it. Still, could her happiness be built on top of someone else’s sadness? Passion didn’t know.

“Don’t you think you might be rushing things? You’ve only been separated a few months, and y’all were married ten years. All due respect, Stanley, but I don’t want to be anybody’s rebound romance.”

Stanley gazed at Passion, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “Not far,” he repeated, referring to her being a close virtuous woman match.

Passion looked away from Stanley’s soulful gaze. His overt flirtations were disconcerting. She thought back to the times when she imagined her husband. She thought he’d be someone godly and strong, someone like her pastor. But she never thought he would actually
be
Stanley. The one and only Dr. Stanley Lee, pastor of the renowned Logos Word Interdenominational Church. It was almost too much for her to wrap her brain around.

Stanley wisely switched the topic to safer subjects. Their dessert was enjoyed amid discussion of his children, Passion’s daughter, the ever-changing political climate, and the realization that they both loved football. By the time Stanley walked Passion to her car in the parking lot, they’d resumed the comfortable camaraderie they usually enjoyed.

“How’d you get the name Passion?” Stanley asked suddenly, as if the thought had never crossed his mind before.

“My grandfather,” Passion replied. “I guess I used to kick a lot when my mother was pregnant with me. Her father told her that I had spunk, fire, passion. A few months later, that’s what she named me.” Passion smiled fondly at the memory of her grandfather. “When I was little, he used to call me ‘his little passion.’”

“Hmm,” Stanley said, with a light touch on Passion’s arm that sent shivers down to her toes. “Do you think you could become this preacher’s passion?”

Her answer was swallowed up by his lips pressing against hers. Before she could censor her actions, her tongue probed against Stanley’s closed lips as she wrapped her arms around him. Stanley gently broke the kiss and pulled back to look in Passion’s half-moon eyes. “Hmm, Ms. Passion Perkins,” he said with a smile, “I definitely think you can.”

Six Months Later

Only four persons stood in attendance: Stanley, Passion, a witness, and the Antiguan marriage officer. The January wedding was simple and low-key, just as they wanted. Later, when their children, families, and church members had fully acclimated to their union, they’d hold a large reception and shout their wedded joy from the rooftops. For now, the only ones who needed to hear it were the two of them.

“I’m nervous, Stanley,” Passion admitted, when after a romantic dinner and walk on the beach, they retired to their suite.

“Me too,” Stanley agreed. He’d shared bits of his sexual dysfunction with Passion. She’d shared the five years she’d been celibate, and was secretly thankful she hadn’t had sex with Lavon. The nervousness these formerly married-with-children adults displayed added to the night’s charm.

“Let’s just cuddle and see where it leads,” Passion suggested. She went into the bathroom and changed into a silky, midnight blue negligee with matching robe. When she came out, Stanley had stripped down to his boxers, and was covered in a robe as well.

They climbed to the center of the king-sized bed, which was positioned to face the ocean. The sound of splashing waves could be heard through the open patio.

“That sounds nice,” Passion said, wrapping her arms around Stanley.

“That feels nice,” Stanley replied, wrapping his arms around her.

The newlyweds cuddled, nuzzled, and nibbled away their discomfort. After a while, Stanley kissed Passion’s ears, eyes, and each cheek, finally claiming her mouth in a titillating kiss. His hand rubbed her arm, and then pinched her nipples through the satiny fabric. Passion moaned, squirming, as her furry jewel felt instant heat. She reached for his manhood, surprised yet delighted at the thick length of him. Sensitive to his conservative nature, she curbed the urge to talk dirty or do what she really wanted, lavish her oral praises along the length of his shaft.

Instead, she spread her legs in silent invitation. Stanley placed a hand inside her top and massaged her naked breast. With his other, he rubbed her love box on the outside of her nightgown. Passion’s pussy screamed for more direct attention. She lifted her nightgown and raised it over her head. He stripped as well and entered her in one quick, firm thrust.

Moments later, Passion listened to the soft, even sound of her husband’s snoring, interspersed with the sound of the ocean. The crashing waves beat a sensual, rhythmic melody against the shore, one that was soon mirrored by Passion’s fingers in her cat. She ground herself against her fingers, trying to find the release Stanley had left wanting.

Finally, she gave up the attempt, and sought comfort by cuddling spoon-style against Stanley’s strong, broad back.

“I love you,” she whispered, with a kiss to his neck. “This will get better, I’m sure of it.”
But I might have to explore some alternate ways to climax until you lose your inhibitions. Maybe I’ll get a vibrator.
This would have been a guilty thought when she was single, but being married, it now felt okay. After all, the marriage bed was undefiled.
That’s it! That’s what I’ll do—get a big rubber penis to help me release, while I stay faithful to my husband.
Passion smiled at her ingenious solution, even as she snuggled closer to Stanley.
I’ll just think of it as my special friend.

She giggled aloud at her last thought before falling asleep.
Maybe I’ll name it “Denzel.”