The Choir Director (22 page)

“Yeah, I’ll meet you in the large gym after basketball,” Aaron replied to my query.

“Sounds like a plan.” I looked at Porsche. “You going to step class, Porsche?”

“Yeah, I’m going.” She sounded defeated.

“Good, I’ll walk down with you.” That was my subtle way of letting her know that her butt needed to rise up out of there.

Though I’m sure he didn’t realize he was doing it, Aaron helped me to twist the knife a little deeper in Porsche’s wound. “Simone, I can’t believe you bought me all of this stuff. It must have cost a small fortune.” He came over and wrapped his arms around me in a bear hug. He didn’t kiss me, but there was no doubt from where Porsche was sitting who was number one in his eyes.

“Don’t worry about the cost. I just want you to look good, okay?”

Aaron nodded, going back to the bags. “You are an amazing woman. How’d you even know my size?”

“I checked your suit and shirt size after you fell asleep last night.” Oh, if looks could kill, Porsche would have had my head on a platter after I said that.

He came striding back over to me and hugged me even tighter than before. “I don’t know what to say. No one has ever done anything like this for me before.”

“I’m sure you’ll find something to say tonight.” He let me go and I patted him on the behind.

“I’m sure you’re right.”

“You ready to go?” I asked Porsche in the sweetest of tones.

“Yeah, I’m coming.” Talk about a broken-up face.

I stood there long enough that she got the message and got up and left the room without even saying good-bye to Aaron.

I’d won the battle with Porsche in the rehearsal room, but I still couldn’t dismiss the image of Aaron’s fingers playing in her hair. As a matter of fact, I couldn’t even focus on the exercise routine, so I left step class early.

I was in the locker room, having already showered and put on my makeup by the time the room filled up with about twenty of the sisters who’d been in the exercise class, including Porsche and the first lady, who sat down next to me.

I watched as Porsche slipped off her gym clothes and put a towel around her body. I wanted to go in there and kick her ass for messing with my man, but she’d soon be getting the message loud and clear that I wasn’t playing around.

I sat there fuming as I listened to Porsche talking to one of the
sisters. “I really got my workout on today. I feel like I lost five pounds of pure sweat!”

“Yeah, girl, I know what you mean,” the other girl replied.

The first lady turned to me, and I could see her studying my face in the mirror. “How come you left step class so early?” she asked.

“I got a hot date and didn’t wanna be late,” I said for the entire locker room to hear.

“Well, just don’t make it too hot. Remember we’re Christians,” Monique joked.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be here first thing in the morning to ask for forgiveness,” I joked back, and quite a few of the sisters laughed, including the first lady. I loved that Monique was still real. She didn’t try to change and become all judgmental, even if she had been elevated to the position of first lady after she married T. K.

“How’d things go with her?” Monique whispered, gesturing in the direction of Porsche. “Glad to see neither of you has any scratches or bruises.”

I waved my hand like it was nothing. “Oh, please. That woman is not even in my league. You see who’s going on a date tonight and who isn’t?”

“I know that’s right. Let me go ahead and take me a shower so I can see if I can get my husband to take me on a date.” She went to her locker and grabbed her body wash and shampoo. I watched as Porsche finished up her conversation and did the same before heading into the shower room. I waited for the fireworks that I knew were about to begin.

About five or six minutes later, a bloodcurdling screech came from the showers. I followed all the other women who rushed in the direction of the cries.

The women who made it there first started in right away with a chorus of “Oh my God! What happened?” and “This is awful!”

I slowly made my way through the crowd to view the cause of the commotion. Boy, oh boy, was it a sight for these sore eyes. There was Porsche, naked as the day she was born, screaming at the top of her lungs. She was dripping wet, with tears rolling down her face. In both hands, she clenched gobs of her long, curly black hair. With all the bare patches on her head and her
eyeliner running down her face, she looked like something out of a creature-feature magazine.

Good. Maybe now she’ll think twice before she has my man’s hands all up in her hair.

“My hair! My hair! What the hell happened to my hair?” Porsche screamed.

“Oh, no. And that girl had some beautiful hair,” Sister Teresa yelled, making Porsche even more hysterical.

“See now, that’s why I stopped messin’ with them perms,” a sister commented. “More sisters need to look into the natural thing.” She patted her own natural fro with pride.

“That wasn’t no perm, girl. That was all her natural hair,” another sister replied, putting more flame on the fire.

“Get outta here! Now I know why she’s crying,” the first sister cracked.

“Yep, I heard she has Indian in her family … for real.”

I turned away and walked back to my locker with a satisfied smirk on my face.

“What did you do?” Monique asked when she appeared behind me. She was wrapped in a towel and dripping wet.

“Who, me? What are you talking about?” I went to continue my strut, but Monique grabbed my arm, pulling me to the side.

“Don’t you ‘who, me,’ Simone. What did you do to that girl’s hair? I know you did something. I can see it in your eyes. You’re still smirking.” She was shaking her head in disbelief.

“I didn’t do a thing, but it couldn’t have happened to a better person.”

“Simone, there are some things you just don’t do because God don’t like ugly. One day this is all gonna fall on your shoulders.”

“Oh, please, Monique. I didn’t do anything, okay? And even if I did, if someone made a move on the bishop, you’d do worse. Besides, whose side are you on anyway?”

“I’m not on anybody’s side—not when it comes to hurting someone. And need I remind you that me and the bishop are married?”

“So? Me and Aaron are going to get married one day. Only difference is you got a piece of paper.”

“Get out of here, Simone, because I think you’ve lost your
mind.” Monique made her way back over to try to comfort Porsche. I didn’t take it personally, though. I knew that was part of her duties as first lady.

I closed my locker and picked up my bag, heading out the door to meet Aaron. Monique could say whatever she wanted, but if she were in my shoes, she would have done the same damn thing. Besides, Porsche’s hair would grow back eventually. Hell, I’d only put a little Neet in her conditioner. Truth is, I didn’t even know if she’d put it in her hair, as bad as it smelled. Turned out it couldn’t have worked more perfectly.

As I exited the locker room, I almost wanted to reach around and pat myself on the back. I wondered,
When are people going to realize that you don’t fuck with Simone Wilcox?

I was sitting in my office, working on my sermon for Sunday’s church service as I savored the taste of Sister Andrea Cottman’s peach cobbler. I’d titled the sermon “Having God’s Favor in These Critical Times,” and that was just how I was feeling—like God had blessed our church during a very difficult period. We’d fought through a recession, the Jackie scandal, and Smitty’s death, all to land on our feet with our heads held high. I was really proud of the church and loved the direction things were going in, especially the choir.

And what could I say about Aaron? He’d turned out to be a godsend who had gone way past my expectations in such a short period of time. He was prompt, diligent, enthusiastic, and had grown the choir to fifty members. They’d already won a couple of competitions, and the church’s attendance was almost back to the pre-Jackie days, although revenue was still down significantly with the recession and all.

To top that off, Maxwell was doing a good job tightening up the deacons’ board. Things were really looking up.

“Thank you, Lord,” I prayed out loud.

I heard a light tap at my door and invited the visitor to enter.

Tia poked her head into my office. “Excuse me, Bishop. I’m sorry to interrupt you, but can I talk to you for a few minutes?”

I waved her in. “Sure, come on in. I wanted to talk to you anyway. The first lady has told me what a help you’ve been with Aaron and the choir. I just wanted to let you know that I really love the job you and Aaron are doing. You should be proud of yourself.”

She walked in, standing in front of my desk humbly. “Thank you. I really appreciate that.”

“I should be thanking you. Have a seat. How are you doing?”

She sat down in the chair in front of my desk. “I’m doing okay.”

“So, how can I help you?”

“Well, it’s just that I have a little problem.”

“What is it?” I became concerned by the look of unease on her face. I knew that Tia’s rape had left her emotionally fragile, and though she was doing well now, I worried that any bad experience could lead to a setback for her. My train of thought ended up being way off track. I never could have imagined what she was about to tell me.

“I just came from the bank. When I went to cash my check, they said there were not enough funds to cover my check.”

“What?” I sat back in my chair. Things just didn’t add up. “I don’t think that’s possible, Tia. Are you sure it wasn’t an error on the bank’s behalf?”

“I know the church has money, but I’ve been having a few problems with Trustee Wilcox, and I was wondering if that had something to do with my check.”

I rubbed the crown of my head and contemplated the possibility that Simone was playing some type of game with Tia’s check. My wife had told me about what happened to poor Porsche Moore’s hair and that she believed Simone had something to do with it. It looked like Simone was playing for keeps when it came to Aaron. I’d seen her act this same way back when she was interested in James. I could also see why she might have considered Tia a threat, considering how closely she and Aaron worked together and the tight relationship that everyone could see they had been developing. As far as I could tell, Aaron and Tia were only friends, but Simone wasn’t the type to accept any woman, friend or not, around a man she’d laid claim to.

“I hope it’s just a bank error, but I’ll look into it.” My cell phone rang and I excused myself to answer it when I saw the church janitor’s number on my caller ID. Harley never called my cell unless it was an emergency.

“Bishop, this is Harley. The bank won’t let me cash my check. What the heck is going on over there?”

Another bad check. My stomach became a ball of tension because now I knew this wasn’t an isolated incident.

“I don’t know, Harley. Something must be going on with our account. Sit tight. Let me find out what’s going on, and I’ll call you right back.”

“Call me back, please, Bishop. I need my money. I gotta pay my rent.”

“I understand, Harley. I’ll call you right back.” I hung up the phone.

Tia took a deep breath, almost sounding relieved. “It wasn’t just me, was it?”

“It appears not.” I shook my head. “Listen, Tia, give me five minutes to make a couple of calls. I promise I’ll get to the bottom of this before you leave work today.”

As soon as Tia left the room, I picked up the phone and punched in Simone’s number at the dealership. If anyone was going to have the answers I needed, she would.

“Wilcox Motors, Simone Wilcox,” she answered.

“Hello, Simone. Bishop Wilson here.”

“Oh, Bishop. How are you doing?” The way she paused before she said it didn’t do much to ease the feeling in the pit of my stomach.

“I’m not doing well at all, Simone. People are having problems cashing their payroll checks. The bank says there are insufficient funds in our account. I can’t see that being possible, can you?”

I heard a catch in Simone’s voice. “Oh my, not to worry, Bishop. I’ve just got to transfer the money over to the payroll account.” She hesitated again, and my heartbeat kicked up a notch. “Tell them I’ll have everything taken care of by the morning.”

“By the morning? Simone, this is over a hundred peoples’ livelihoods we’re talking about. You should be able to do a transfer in fifteen minutes online.” My voice rose. I knew I sounded like I didn’t believe Simone, and in all honesty, a part of me didn’t. Something was wrong with this picture. We’d been
taking in more money in the past two months than we had in the last six months combined. We should not have had this kind of problem.

“Okay, Bishop. I’ll take care of it as soon as possible,” she snapped back with a little more attitude than was befitting a trustee talking to her bishop.

“Take care of it now, Simone!”

I hung up the phone without saying good-bye. Before I could get up and go talk to Tia and assure her everything would be taken care of, Maxwell walked into my office and took his usual seat to the left of my desk. He looked perturbed.

“What’s the matter with you, Maxwell? Run out of Viagra?” I laughed, trying to lighten my own mood.

“You got a lot of angry people out there in reception. They’ve all gone to the bank and can’t get their money. They didn’t expect to have payless paydays at the church, and I can’t say I blame them. What the heck is going on?”

“Simone Wilcox is what happened.” I shook my head. “She said she forgot to transfer money into the payroll account.”

Maxwell shot me a funny look. “You believe that?”

“Not a word,” I replied.

I got up and closed my office door. I turned to Maxwell and spoke seriously. “I want you to do something on the Q.T.”

Maxwell nodded. “Sure. What do you need?”

“I want you to do an internal audit on the church’s books. I wanna know where every dime of our money has been spent. Turn over every stone. Nobody is beyond suspicion, including me.”

“Sure, I can do that. No sweat. I’ve done audits on my company’s books a hundred times, so this should be a cinch. Matter of fact, I’ll bring in my accountant, Sherman. He’ll get to the bottom of this.”