Sinful Too (14 page)

Boscoe’s Wings and Things was a modest eatery that prided itself as a hot wing heaven. Loyal customers waited by the dozens for the wings. Richard spotted him at the table the second he walked in the door. “Phillip, you must’ve gotten here when the place opened. You see the line up front?”

“Hey, Brotha Pastor. Glad you could make it and yes, I did. I always get here before the lunch crowd. I’m too hungry to stand still and watch plates of hot food glide by my nose. God is still working with me on that one, I guess.”

Richard joined him at the table near the window. Whenever Phillip saddled him with
Brotha Pastor
, he knew what to expect. Phillip was a great friend and a better deacon. He ate, drank, and slept church business even when Richard wasn’t in the mood to put on his minister hat and spend the entire afternoon church chatting. “Ahh, I know that tone, Deacon. Could we wait until after I’ve had some food in my stomach before we get deep into a M.E.G.A. strategy session? The congregation is holding up fine despite the elders running scared of growing too big. Ain’t no such thing as too big or too many. Shoot, didn’t Jesus feed five thousand souls with five loaves of bread and two fish?”

“Yeah, but He could walk on water,” Phillip countered.

“I know where some of the rocks are too,” Richard jested, as if he had some tricks up his sleeve to pull off a miracle or two. Phillip didn’t like the insinuation that Jesus may have used deception to perform his phenomenal wonders.

“Alright, Richard, I get it,” he said, heading off a lengthy discussion about faith and fortitude. “I’m ordering my usual: a six-stack with French fries. Rose says I got to get my vegetables.”

“Everything fried, huh? That is one way to go.” Richard scanned the menu, flipped it over, then opened it again. “They don’t have too many low-fat items.”

“Who’d come here if they did?” Phillip asked, as if he wouldn’t.

“There comes a time in a man’s life, he wants options is all I’m saying,” Richard mumbled, his eyes glued to the colorful order board.

“Options?” Phillip gave his spiritual leader a shrewd once-over. “I see you’re exercising one option. This is the first time I’ve seen you decked out in a jazzy running suit in the middle of the day. What happened to your stance on church leadership dressing the part? You know, business casual.”

“I know what I said but today was one of those days I just felt kind of loose.”

“Loose? You’ve been away from the office a lot lately. That wouldn’t have anything to do with your new lease on loose?” Phillip studied Richard’s relaxed body language while a waitress took their orders.

“Actually it does and it doesn’t. Look, Phillip, I’ve met someone. She’s not a Christian but it’s like the parable of the lost sheep. It’s hard not to go after the one when ninety-nine are safe and sound.”

“This lost sheep, have you ministered to her?”

“Yes and she even watched the televised broadcast afterwards. Said before, she didn’t do church. You can’t tell me you haven’t taken a certain interest in a beautiful lady with a hole in her soul? This woman is rough around the edges and young, sort of.”

Phillip shook his head disappointedly. “That depends. How young and how beautiful is this black sheep? She is a sistah?”

“Yeah, man, yeah. I had no intentions of getting close. It just kinda happened.”

“What’s that?”

“Me being crazy about her.”

“You’re crazy alright and nothing just happens, Richard. You’re a married man and a minister,” Phillip reminded him, while controlling his pitch so as not to be overheard by others sitting nearby. “Besides, Nadeen is a good woman.”

“Did Rose being a good woman have anything to do with you and that cocktail waitress you shacked up with for a weekend in Denver?” Richard warned him not to throw stones when his house was also made of glass.

“That was different. Me and Rose were on bad terms and I was snowed in. Couldn’t catch a flight out for two days, and anyway Sharon was a bartender.”

“So! You couldn’t keep your pants zipped either but it’s not my place to chastise you. Men do wrong all the time, always have. David plotted to have a man killed so he could get at Bathsheba.”

“What is this, Bible trivia? Richard, don’t tell me you’re comparing yourself to King David now, because he really messed his life up behind some new booty. That’s not the pattern you’d want to cut out for yourself.”

“Look, Phillip, I’m not asking your permission. Just thought I’d tell my best friend what’s been going on with me. Life on this side of the table isn’t as easy as it looks. I’ve poured my life into making Methodist Episcopal Greater Apostolic a huge success. Is it wrong for me to back off when I need some private time to rejuvenate?” Richard saw a sour expression gleaming back at him.

“Never said it looked easy, Richard,” Phillip asserted regretfully. “We all have to make our own beds, no doubt about that. Okay, the friend in me will listen while I keep my Christian mouth shut.”

“Thank you. That’s all I ask.” Richard sighed, then smiled as easy as breathing. “Her name is Dior, like the designer handbags and perfume. She’s classy and sweet just like that too. Her house is small but furnished real nice. She’s a saleslady at the mall.”

“At the mall?” Phillip yelled, louder than he intended to. “You’re cheating on your wife with a mall rat. God Lawd, help him.”

“You can say that again. She’s an animal, Phillip, a man-eater. She lets me be me, no pretense, no posturing. She cooks dinner, healthy meals too, because she cares about me. Dior’s got a fully stocked bar, wine, weed, a ravenous sexual appetite, and Viagra.”

“Viag — what?”

“I haven’t popped any little blue pills yet but I’ve been thinking about it. I told you she was an animal and I’m going to do my best to train her.”

“Train her to do what?”

“Be my faithful concubine,” Richard answered smugly.

Phillip sat up in his chair then leaned in. “You intend to keep this Dior on the side long-term? So this isn’t just a fling, like that woman who almost broke up your marriage?”

Richard pouted. “See, why’d you have to bring that up?”

“Because it’s history repeating itself or worse. You were young and foolish then. I don’t know how to justify what you’re doing now. Anyway, if what you say about this one is true, you know what happens when you hold a firecracker in your hands too long after the fuse is lit.”

“I’m not worried about that. I’m busy trying to be all she wants and needs. Life is about investments. Give and take, that’s what works for us.”

Phillip rubbed at his temples. He couldn’t make sense of it no matter how hard he tried. Richard had obviously fallen head over heels for the other woman, a young and dangerous other woman. “Where do Nadeen and your daughters figure in when you’re investing in another woman?”

“Nadeen knows my heart,” Richard answered boldly. “She also knows which side her bread is buttered on. Push won’t come to shove.” He stuck out his chest boastfully. “Nadeen ain’t going nowhere unless I say so.”

“If you could hear yourself talk you wouldn’t stand another word. What did that girl put on you? Never mind, I don’t want to know.” Phillip had heard enough. “When all of this blows up in your face, where are you and this saleslady gonna live, in her tiny but nice house behind the mall?”

“It won’t come to that, trust me. I’ve got it under control. Anyway, here comes the waitress with our lunch.”

“Wrap mine up to go. I can’t stomach another bite.”

Fourteen

Pay to Play

R
ichard’s involvement with Dior had taken on a life of its own. For three weeks, Richard was diligent in her bedroom while shirking his responsibilities at the church. He’d heard Phillip’s stern warning about weak morals corrupting the soul. Although Phillip was dead-set against the affair, he continually covered up Richard’s indiscretion and stints of inaccessibility. Richard kept telling himself that his tryst with Dior wouldn’t affect his position as a pastor or his relationship with Nadeen. He’d determined that a healthy dose of affection when he was at home, coupled with frequent gifts and spontaneous outings, would keep his wife in check and clueless to his philandering ways. Double-duty is the name he pinned to his underhanded double-dealing. Hedging on nearly a month’s worth of lies, Richard was thumping his chest. He actually thought he’d figured out a foolproof method for pleasing two women at the same time. However, he hadn’t counted on Nadeen doing quite a bit of figuring herself.

While Richard executed his scheme to perfection, maintaining a comfortable home life and a mistress who drove him wild at every turn, Nadeen was privy to the flip side of the same coin. Richard had been uncharacteristically absent when she stopped by to visit him at the office, and he avoided answering his cell phone for hours at a time. He disappeared late in the evening, then he’d drag in tired from what he called “seeing to the needs of the flock.” Since he had been true to his word in the past, she wanted to go on trusting it. It bothered her when Richard came home late then continually ignored the dinner plates she’d set out for him. He used to look forward to sitting down to a meal set aside for him, sharing what he’d been doing, and for which member of the congregation. That was often a highlight of Nadeen’s day as well. Their daughters were typically in bed so she had her man all to herself. Richard recapped the struggles and triumphs he witnessed so vividly Nadeen felt as if she’d been on the front lines with him. Helping people sort out their lives after misfortune came knocking was an admirable calling. Richard was good at building bridges over troubled waters. Nadeen was proud of him. Now it seemed that he was out and about building bridges that didn’t help anyone but himself. There was a knot in her stomach every time she allowed herself to wonder if Richard was getting his nourishment elsewhere, intimate and otherwise. She was concerned about his weight loss, rushing off to the health club first thing in the morning and popping vitamins by the handful. Nadeen watched and waited for definitive answers to a slew of disturbing questions. Firing accusations at him wouldn’t do anything but put him on the defensive, ignite arguments, and widen the divide currently looming in their home.

Having been married to Richard for eighteen years and listening to hordes of women crying over their relationship ills armed Nadeen with more than a few tricks of the staying-married trade. Despite her suspicions, she decided to utilize what she learned to make the best of what she had to endure. Whenever Richard found his way home past what she considered an acceptable hour or had been missing longer than she deemed necessary, Nadeen demanded sex the minute he walked in the door, just in case he’d been thinking of sowing seeds in another woman’s garden. To conclude he had really gone through with it was unthinkable. Nadeen wasn’t ready to give up her life as the M.E.G.A. Church first lady or trade it in for the doldrums of single-motherhood. She was a wife and a good one. It meant a lot to her but so did her sanity. Nadeen was well aware that being a preacher’s spouse required a certain amount of commitment and challenges, but she refused to be anybody’s fool.

Early one morning, Richard was getting dressed. He hadn’t said two words to Nadeen the night before. Despite his silent and late arrival, she managed to get thirty minutes of intimate whispers out of him during his mandatory performance. Richard knew the score: Putting in at home was just as important as putting out at Dior’s. Thus far, his execution merited a sound grade but his health was beginning to fail.

He came out of the bathroom coughing and wheezing. Nadeen rolled over in bed rubbing her eyes. “Hey, you alright?” she asked, really wanting to know. Richard sat on the edge of the bed with his back to her. He nodded that he felt fine then started a pathetic chorus of snorts and sniffles.

“Yeah, just a little run down.”

Nadeen looked him over casually then smiled to herself, deep down inside. “Spreading yourself kind of thin, aren’t you?”

A wicked chill came over Richard’s entire body as he shuddered wearily.
You don’t know the half of it
, he thought, as he reached for the box of tissues on the nightstand. “You know how it can get. There’s so much laboring required,” he said, thinking mostly of the energy required to keep up with Dior. “I can’t let up on it.”

Nadeen didn’t appreciate his choice of words. “Neither can I,” she replied, to even the score. Richard blew his nose, sneezed again, then turned toward her.

“Was that supposed to mean something?”

“You’re a smart man. Doesn’t everything mean something? Have a good day, Richard. Oh and by the way, if you plan on coming in late again, you might want to pocket some of your energy. You’ll need it.”

Later that morning, Nadeen read her Bible for fortification. She felt comforted when studying the fifth chapter of Ephesians. She nodded her head affirmatively when her eyes scanned across verse twenty-two through twenty-four in the Life Application edition.
Wives, submit to your husbands as to the Lord. For the husband is the head of the wife as Christ is the head of the church, his body, of which he is the Savior. Now as the Church submits to Christ, so also wives should submit to their husbands in everything.
Nadeen sighed when she realized that every word of that passage was true, even if it happened to be Richard’s favorite. The next eight verses put a hint of a smile on her face. They were the cornerstones with which she’d built her marriage and the words she drew on when hard times put her on her knees the most.
Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her to make her holy, cleaning her by washing with water through the word, and to present her to himself a radiant church, without stain or wrinkle or any other blemish, but holy and blameless.
Nadeen wanted to be cherished and held in the same high regard that Jesus had for the Church. She could scarcely remember a time when she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Richard couldn’t eat, sleep, or breathe without thinking about her. The children came, his ministry grew, and life happened. Nadeen tried to push the loss of his once-abundant love clear out of her mind by getting back into the Good Book.
In the same way, husbands ought to love their wives as their own bodies. He who loves his wife loves himself. After all, no one ever hated his own body, but he feeds and cares for it, just as Christ does the church; for we are members of his body. For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and the two will become one flesh.
As tears welled up in her eyes, Nadeen read the end of the chapter aloud. If Richard had lost his way, bonded physically with another woman, she had to know. How she’d handle it worried her but that was a bridge to cross when and if she came to it. “This is a profound mystery — but I am talking about Christ and the church,” she read, nodding slowly again. “However, each one of you also must love his wife as he loves himself, and the wife must respect her husband.” She sighed, offered a silent prayer of thanks, forgiveness, and discernment to get her heart right with the Holy Spirit. Then Nadeen closed her Bible. She picked up the telephone for human reinforcements to help get her mind right before dealing with the evil spirit she felt was tearing at the seams of her marriage and had the audacity to crawl in her bed.