The Choir Director (32 page)

“We won! We won the regional championship. Can you believe it? We’re going to nationals. Boy, that Aaron is something else.”

“That’s great,” I mumbled halfheartedly, hoping he’d go away so I could get myself together.

“Hey, why don’t we celebrate our choir’s victory in a spontaneous, romantic way?” Through the beveled shower glass, I could see him slipping out of his clothes, and suddenly my heart was in my mouth. “It’s been a while since we’ve taken a shower together.”

No, no, no, please, Lord. Haven’t I had to deal with enough today?

“T. K., honey, I’m just about to get out.”

“Well, stay in. I missed my wife so much. Trust me. I’ll make it worth your while.” I watched as T. K. slipped off his boxers.

“I missed you, too, but …” My heart hammered in my chest.

I’m not going to have sex with him,
I vowed.
I don’t even know if I can look him in the face right now. Dear God, please do something.

I was prepared to lie to avoid him, tell him it was that time of the month or something, when his phone went off.

Thank you, Jesus!
I thought I was literally being saved by the bell, until I realized he planned on ignoring it. He was about to step into the shower with me.

I turned my back in case my eyes were swollen from crying. “Honey, get your phone.”

“I’m not going to answer that.” He chuckled as he pressed up against me from behind, shivering when he felt the cold water. “I’ve got other things on my mind.”

“That never stopped you before. Baby, please answer the phone,” I pleaded. “You never know who it could be.”

Finally, he relented, stepping out of the shower to retrieve his phone.

“Hello … Yes, this is Bishop Wilson…. What? … Oh, Lord.”

I cut off the water and stepped out of the shower as fast as I could. He was standing there almost in a daze.

“What happened?” I asked, wrapping a large bath towel around myself.

“It’s James. He’s taken a turn for the worse. His left lung collapsed.”

“Oh my goodness. That’s horrible.”

T. K. sighed. “Go ahead and get dressed. We need to get to the hospital. I’m gonna call Maxwell. I’m sure he’s going to want to meet us over there.”

I got up from behind my desk and walked over to the mini refrigerator in my office. I pulled out two Snapple iced teas, glancing over at Maxwell, who was sitting in his usual chair to the left of my desk. Simone Wilcox had just left my office with an offer from Pelican Trading Company to purchase the senior housing property. The offer was for three million dollars, one million more than the previous offer we’d received, but nothing close to what we had invested in the property or owed to creditors.

I held up a bottle. “You want one of these?”

“Yeah, I’ll take one.”

I tossed Maxwell a Snapple and headed back behind my desk.

“So, what do you think? Should we sell for the three million?”

He opened his drink and took a long swig. “I’m not sure, but the clock is ticking. We need to have that property sold before we appear in front of the bankruptcy court judge.”

“I know, Maxwell, but for three million dollars? James told me the property is worth at least five, maybe more.” I tried to open the Snapple, but for the life of me I couldn’t get the plastic ring off the top of the bottle. My nerves were shot, and it wasn’t because of the bankruptcy. My wife and I were having problems in the bedroom, and it was starting to get to me.

“Well, why doesn’t James get us a better deal, then? I mean, with all due respect, the guy’s been out of the real estate business for almost three years. I’ve got as much respect for James as any-body—you know that—but the man’s lung just collapsed and he’s on his deathbed. It’s not like he’s out there trying to find us a better deal.”

“I understand what you’re saying, Maxwell. I just don’t want us to get shortchanged.” No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t open the bottle. I flexed my fingers in frustration. I hoped I wasn’t getting arthritis. “Doggone it!”

“Hey, Bishop, let me get that off for you.”

Maxwell gestured for me to give him the bottle. I sighed and handed the bottle to him. Maxwell opened it in a mere flick of the wrist. I was too melancholy to even feel jealousy at his better physical strength. I was about five years older than Maxwell, and for the first time, I was beginning to feel my age.

“Listen, Bishop, about this property. I’ll hold Simone off for the next week or two so we can listen to any new offers, but after that I’m gonna have to let her pull the trigger on this deal. Fair enough?”

I took a sip of my Snapple. “Fair enough.” I guess I was looking downhearted, because Maxwell sat and studied me for a while.

“What seems to be the problem? You’ve been in the dumps the last couple of days. Is everything all right?” He spoke like a true friend. I’m sure he knew without me saying that something was on my mind.

“I don’t know …” I hesitated.

“What’s wrong with you? This whole thing with the bankruptcy got you down?”

“No, I can deal with that. My problem is more personal.” I glanced at a picture of my wife. She was so beautiful.

“Oh, so now we don’t talk about personal things anymore?”

“It’s not just about me. It has something to do with my wife too.”

Maxwell leaned forward, an interested look on his face. “T. K., what’s going on? You guys having problems or something?”

I shrugged. “I’m not sure. All I know is my wife won’t be intimate with me. It’s been two weeks since we’ve had relations.”

“Relations? Who are you, Bill Clinton?” Maxwell chuckled.

“We haven’t had sex, made love, okay? Is that what you want to hear? My goodness, Maxwell, this is my marriage we’re talking about here.”

“It sure is, isn’t it?” Maxwell tried to lighten the mood by
teasing, “You know, you are getting a little older now. Maybe you’re not ringing her bell the way you used to.”

He laughed, making me feel much better—not!

“That’s not funny.” I frowned, scrunching up my brow. “I ring her bell just fine when she lets me.”

“Hey, she’s a young woman. She needs a stallion to ride, not a pony.” His eyes sparkled with mischief. “Is the elevator still going to the top floor?”

“Of course it is!” I was not amused by his insinuation.

I’d always taken care of myself, and I hadn’t slept around a lot when I was young. As a result, impotence had never been a problem for me, and I was still virile. I shook my head. “It’s not a problem with me getting it up. It’s a problem with my wife not wanting me anymore.”

Maxwell’s face became serious for a moment. “You don’t believe that, do you? That Monique doesn’t want you anymore?”

“I don’t know what I believe, Maxwell.”

“Well, maybe you should do some of the things you used to do when you first started dating.”

“Man, I made a candlelight dinner and the whole nine the other night. When she finished eating, I thought she was going upstairs to put on a sexy nightgown or something, but when I got up there, she was asleep. The sad thing is, I don’t think she was really asleep. I think she was trying to avoid making love to me. She never even touches me anymore. I can’t stand this, Maxwell. I’m a very physical man.”

Maxwell leaned in, looking me directly in the eye. “You think she might be fooling around? Maybe that secret admirer of hers finally won her over.”

“My wife would never fool around,” I snapped. I felt insulted that he would even suggest the possibility. We had a good marriage, a good sex life—that is, up until now. It was probably something stupid. Maybe she was going through the change or something, but no way was she cheating.

Maxwell held up his hands and leaned back. “Excuse me, Bishop. I didn’t mean no harm. Hey, maybe you need to hit the gym. Maybe she doesn’t see you as appealing as when you first got married.”

“I probably could hit the gym,” I conceded. I glanced down at the paunch around my middle. I was the same weight as when we met, though, so I didn’t think that was the issue either.

“I would go to the gym with you, but I’ve got a heart condition. Plus, I’m getting my exercise other ways.” He smoothed his mustache and flashed a sly grin.

“Yeah, I’m sure with all those young girls you’re always messing with. Maxwell, when you gonna settle down anyway?”

“I’ve got a prospect waiting for me at the Marriott as we speak. You might even say she’s the girl of my dreams.”

“Well, good luck. Finding the girl of your dreams isn’t easy. Women like that are worth fighting over.”

“Who you telling? Believe me, I feel the same way.” Maxwell stood up, shook the creases back into his pants, then came over to pat me on the back. “Well, Bishop, I’m outta here. Don’t want to keep the little lady waiting.”

I turned to Maxwell and nodded. “So, when am I going to meet this mystery woman?”

“If I have my way, sooner than you think, Bishop. Much sooner than you think.”

I walked out of the bathroom an emotional wreck with tears and mascara running down my face. Ever since I heard the rumor that Aaron and Tia were together, I couldn’t stop crying, and the fact that I’d just started my period didn’t help things one bit. I’d been praying to God that somehow I might be pregnant with Aaron’s child. We’d had a little slipup the last time we made love, and the condom broke. I told Aaron I was going to the pharmacy to get the morning-after pill, but I never did. Then Daddy had his stint in the hospital, and I slipped up, causing Aaron to break up with me—which, I might add, was totally unfair. Okay, so I lied to him, but I was going to tell him the truth after everything got settled.

All of this was plain ridiculous. I couldn’t believe Aaron was really holding one little lie against me. He and I were made for each other. I was born to be not only his woman, but also his baby’s momma, dammit!

All right, so if I wasn’t pregnant with Aaron’s baby, then it was time to decide my next plan of action, because crying all day wasn’t going to get me anywhere. I wiped my tears away and gave the whole situation some serious thought. And of course, because I had plenty of practice at “storytelling,” I came up with something in no time: Just because I wasn’t pregnant didn’t mean I couldn’t say I was pregnant. A man of God like Aaron, who was on his way to stardom, couldn’t afford not to marry me. He’d lose all credibility. Once we were back together, I’d just have to get pregnant in a hurry. Heck, I was young enough, and
my friend Mary worked in a fertility clinic. She could get me some of those fertility drugs to speed up the process.

Shit, if I played this thing right, I wouldn’t even have to go to Aaron; he’d end up crawling back to me. All I had to do was whisper in the right ears that I was pregnant with his child and that I planned on having the baby without his help, since he didn’t want anything to do with us. That would make him come running quick.

I thought about picking up the phone and calling Monique in order to start the gossip chain with her. I knew Monique. She’d be the first to pull Aaron aside and read him the riot act for his actions. Then again, after busting her over at Maxwell’s place last week, I’d been avoiding her like the plague. I mean, what do you say to a woman after catching her cheating on her preacher husband with his best friend? Now, that was some drama worthy of a Lifetime movie!

So instead, I picked up the phone and called Sister Judith Hampton, one of the elders in the choir. Sister Judith loved her some Aaron. In fact, she was always telling people he was her godson. She’d put him in his place, and if he didn’t do the right thing by me and the baby, she’d talk about him like a dog. She would be the first of four phone calls I’d make that day, and if I didn’t get a response from Aaron, I’d make another four calls the next night. Mr. Mackie was going to live up to his responsibility as an expectant father—and even if he wasn’t an expectant father yet, it wouldn’t take long before I had him by the balls.

“Praise God,” Sister Judith answered jubilantly.

“Hey, Sister Judith, this is Trustee Wilcox.”

“Hey there, Trustee. Did you hear about the regional gospel championship we won last week?” Sister Judith always sounded so happy.

“I did. Congratulations.”

“That Aaron Mackie sure is something, isn’t he?”

“He sure is, Sister. As a matter of fact, I wanted you to pray with me for him.”

“Sure. Is everything all right with him?” Her voice wasn’t so upbeat anymore.

“Well, Sister, we’re all human, and we all have faults. I don’t
want to tell his business or mine, but I just want you to pray for us both and hope he decides to—”

I was interrupted by a knock at my door. I thought about ignoring it but decided not to, on the off chance that it was Aaron.

“Sister, I’ll call you back in a minute. I might not need that prayer after all.”

I jumped up off the sofa and dried my eyes, ran my hands through my hair, and then got a glimpse of myself in the hall mirror. My eyes looked all red and bleary, and I had dark bags under them. I pinched my cheeks to bring back some color but decided not to worry too much about my looks. If it was Aaron at the door, I wanted him to see how I’d suffered. He’d take me in his arms and ask for my forgiveness. Unfortunately, with my period being here and all, we wouldn’t be able to have that bomb makeup sex, but I’d give him the blow job of a lifetime. I was getting hot just thinking about it.

I flung the door open in anticipation of my fantasy coming true but got a rude awakening. Standing there with scowls on their faces were the two thugs who’d pulled up on me and Aaron in the parking lot.

“Can I help you?” I held the doorknob tightly, hoping I could shut the door fast enough if they tried something.

“We’re looking for Aaron Mackie,” the tall one said brusquely.

“He doesn’t live here.” I tried to close the door, but the shorter one put his hand out.

“Well, is he here?”

“No, he’s not here. I thought you were him.” Come to think of it, these guys had just fucked up my fantasy. I felt myself becoming irate. “Who are you, anyway?”

“Don’t worry about who we are,” the tall guy snarled. “You expecting him anytime soon?”