The Replacement Wife (16 page)

D
eirdre felt butterflies in her stomach as Moe slid his arm around her shoulders while they walked to the food court after the movie. She was sure he was going to try and kiss her, and she was ready. It would be her first kiss. Her first kiss from her first love.

“What you want to eat, babe?” Moe asked.

“I'm not really that hungry. I just want something to drink.”

Deirdre was being truthful. After eating popcorn and candy in the movie, she was full, and she felt too nervous to eat anything else.

“Well, we don't have to eat. We can go shopping for your prom dress.”

Deirdre clapped her hands and squealed. “You decided to go to your prom?”

“Yeah. I know it's last minute. I hope you don't mind.”

“I don't mind. What is prom anyway, but a new dress and new shoes? I've got plenty of dresses and shoes.”

“So you're gonna be my date for prom, after prom, and after-after prom?” Moe asked.

Deirdre stopped walking and cocked her head to one side. “What is after-after prom?”

Moe laughed out loud. “That's when we go back to the hotel and do what we do.”

“Oh.”

Deirdre didn't know if she was ready for after-after prom, especially since it was taking place inside a hotel room with Moe. She thought about what her grandmother would say. Then she thought about what her father would say. They would both be mortified at what she was considering.

But at least Moe was up front about it and hadn't tried to trick her. The choice was still hers.

“It's okay if you don't want to,” Moe said. “I can ask someone else to go with me.”

“No. No! I'll go. I just wasn't sure what you meant. I'm down.”

“Cool. You think your father will let us drive one of his fly cars to the prom?”

Deidre's jaw dropped. Her father couldn't know that she was going at all! How in the world would she be able to borrow one of his cars?

Moe burst into laughter. “I'm joking! You should see your face!”

“Stop playing! You know my daddy isn't going to let you drive one of his cars. I'll be lucky to get out of the house.”

“We need to fix that. Your father is in the way of our love.”

Moe took Deirdre's hand, squeezed it in his, and continued, “I'm staying in Atlanta for college, so you don't have to worry about losing me after we get together.”

A smile spread over Deirdre's face. Her friends would be so jealous that she was dating a college freshman. She could imagine herself at step shows and frat parties. She wouldn't care if she had to go to that ridiculous all-girls school if she could hang out on the college campus on the weekend.

“So what color are we wearing?”

“Money green, baby. What else?”

Then it happened. Moe wrapped Deirdre in a hug and kissed her deeply on the mouth. Deirdre trembled, and Moe smiled.

“I remember when I saw you at the mall. All my boys said you'd never holla at me, but they were wrong.”

Deirdre beamed up at him. “They didn't know you had that good game.”

Moe popped his collar. “I do, don't I.”

“Yeah, baby, you do.”

Deidre thought quickly. Prom night would require an all-night escape. She'd have to be a little bit sweeter to Chloe when she picked her up later. Maybe even be a little apologetic. It looked like Deirdre and her mentor were going to have a slumber party.

C
hloe tried to stay in the shadows of the strip club she'd selected for her meeting with Rio. She had no idea if he'd reply to her Facebook message asking for a meeting. She had no idea what she'd say if he said yes. She'd chosen the strip club to avoid any nosy members from Freedom of Life. If she ran into one of them up in there, then they certainly wouldn't mention it.

Her plan was to meet with Rio and find out the real scoop on the way-too-perfect Montana. There was no way she was as good as she seemed. Every saint had a past, and Rio was part of Montana's.

Rio finally arrived and slid into the booth across from Chloe. “Hey, Chloe. What's going on? Is this about Montana? Is she okay?”

Chloe rolled her eyes. Why was everyone so concerned about little Ms. Nanny's well-being?

“She's fine. In fact, she's doing so well that she's stolen my man.”

Rio looked confused. “No, she said she wasn't interested in him. So you don't know what you're talking about.”

“Are you trying to get her back?” Chloe asked.

“Maybe. But I was just going to keep showing up at church until she got weak and came running back to me.”

“Are you stupid? Quentin is almost a billionaire. You can't compete with him by showing up at church!”

“I ain't thinking 'bout his money.”

Chloe shook her head. “Well, you should. Most girls find it impossible to resist rich men.”

“You don't know Montana.”

“Right. But you do. You and Montana were together a long time, right?”

Rio nodded. “Yeah. What does that have to do with anything?”

“Did she ever send you a sexy photograph?”

Rio laughed out loud. “Just about every day.”

Chloe grinned. She knew Montana was a freak. “Did you save any of them, by chance?”

Rio whipped out his phone and flicked through his gallery until he found the picture he wanted. Then he held the phone out to Chloe.

“What about this one?”

Chloe's grin changed to a huge smile when she saw the picture. Montana was wearing some very sexy lingerie as she sat in a chair turned backward. Chloe's plan materialized in her mind. She knew exactly what she was going to do to get her man back.

“That's perfect, Rio.”

“So what do you want me to do with the picture?” he asked.

“Text it to me. I'll take it from there.”

Rio sat back in his seat. “Should I be worried?”

“No. You just get ready to get your little girlfriend back.”

“You're pretty sure of yourself.”

Chloe took a sip from the glass of water in front of her. “Trust me. This isn't my first rodeo.”

Although her plan was downright diabolical, Chloe did not feel bad about what was going to happen to Montana. If the girl was bold enough to move in on her man, then she was woman enough to deal with the consequences. It was simply cause and effect.

Q
uentin stood in the mirror and appraised his “going back to church” outfit. He'd thought about going casual. Freedom of Life was a church where a person would feel comfortable wearing jeans and flip-flops if that's what he wanted to wear. Bishop Prentiss never made anyone feel inferior if they didn't have on a designer suit or dress, so Quentin knew that his three-piece black suit was not imperative.

He chose the suit, however, because Montana had invited him to hear her sing. He had heard her singing in the house, but it was quiet praise and worship. He'd never heard her truly sing, and his mother said that Montana's voice was phenomenal.

“You look nice, son,” Estelle said from Quentin's doorway.

“Thank you, Mother. I think I might be a little formal, though.”

Estelle walked into his room and touched Quentin's back. “Well, there's nothing wrong with formal. I think sometimes folks get lazy when it comes to church. In my day, we always gave our best to God.”

Quentin smiled at his mother. She had never gone along with the “come as you are” revolution in the modern church. Every time she saw a pair of flip-flops in the sanctuary she gritted her teeth. She would never hurt anyone's feelings about it, but if they cared to ask, she would certainly give her opinion on the topic.

“Come on, let's all ride together in the Escalade,” Estelle said.

“Reese told me he was leaving early. I guess a friend of his wants to come to church today,” Quentin said.

Estelle nodded. “Well, then that's perfect. Montana can ride with us too.”

Quentin wondered if he should ask Montana to ride in the car with them. He wondered how it would look to the Freedom of Life members, but then he decided that he didn't care about that at all.

Quentin and Estelle went downstairs and met with the rest of the family in the foyer. Ms. Levy went to her own church in Lithonia. Her family had been founding members of Big Miller Grove Missionary Baptist Church, and she had no intention of changing her membership, no matter how much action was taking place at Freedom of Life.

Quentin's pesky butterflies started acting up big-time when he saw Montana. She was wearing a pink dress with puffy sleeves and a modestly plunged neckline. It looked like she'd straightened her curly hair, which was parted on one side with a flipped bang over her eye. The look was very flattering on her. Quentin wished that she was already his, because surely half the single men in the congregation were going to try to get her number after service.

“You all look really nice,” Quentin said to everyone. He didn't want to single out Montana with the kids there.

Madison said, “Daddy, doesn't Ms. Montana look incredible? She's hot, right?”

Quentin closed his eyes and grinned. “She does look incredible,” he agreed.

“And hot too, right?” Morgan asked.

Montana said, “Girls . . .”

Deirdre sucked her teeth. “Y'all are sooo corny.”

“Thank you! Are we all riding in one car, or do I need to drive?”

Danielle said, “Ms. Montana, your car is not that cute. Let's ride in Daddy's truck.”

“My car gets me from point A to point B, thank you very much. And it's paid for,” Montana said.

Estelle said, “Yes, but you look gorgeous today, honey. It's the perfect time to ride in style.”

Once Estelle said something in their home, it was settled. Montana would ride to church as a member of the Chambers family. The thought of that being a permanent situation made Quentin's heart leap.

At the car, Quentin opened the doors for all six of his favorite ladies. He mused that it would've been nice for Reese to be there, just to close some of the doors.

When they got to church, many heads turned, and Quentin could only guess the reasons. Some of them were probably shocked to see him at church after all these years. Those who were aware of his relationship with Chloe probably wondered what was going on with Montana stepping out of his car instead.

Danielle linked arms with Montana and walked toward the church. No matter what happened, Quentin knew he had to make Montana a permanent fixture in their lives.

“Where do you want to sit?” Estelle whispered. “I'm singing today, so I'll be in the choir loft.”

Quentin considered his choices. He could sit in the back of the sanctuary, but it was huge and he wanted to be able to see Montana's face when she sang. If he sat in the front, where his mother usually sat, people were going to be staring and whispering the entire service. He decided that he cared more about Montana's invitation than the chatter.

“I'll go up front. Might as well.”

Estelle chuckled. “Get ready to be bombarded with hugs and greetings. Whether you realize it or not, people miss you and want you back.”

“One Sunday at a time, Mother. This doesn't mean I'm back.”

Estelle nodded. “It means you've taken the first step.”

Estelle left Quentin with the children and ascended the choir loft with Montana. Quentin sat at the end of the aisle, which almost immediately he found to be a mistake.

“Well, look at what we got here. Is it Easter? Surely the dead have been resurrected.”

It was Sister Ophelia, one of the nurses and chief gossip ambassador of Freedom of Life. She stood in front of Quentin, with her hands on her hips, looking like a sanctified superhero. Her special power was being able to throw a sheet over a woman if she showed even a glimpse of skin. She didn't seem to realize her poor choice of words, as she chuckled at her own joke.

“Sister Ophelia,” Quentin said, as he stood to hug her. “Long time no see.”

“Yes, it has been a long time. I would've seen you if I ever got an invite to one of those fancy brunches your mother throws at that big old house. But I guess those are just for the inner circle.”

Quentin closed his eyes and laughed. Ophelia was hilarious. She was determined to be included in the high-society affairs, and Estelle was as equally determined not to include her. Every now and then, though, Estelle and First Lady Prentiss had no choice but to break bread with Ophelia, because one of the pastor's daughters was married to her grandson.

“Sister Ophelia, you know I don't go to their little parties.”

Ophelia patted Quentin on the cheek. The hand smelled like mothballs and peppermint.

“I know, baby. You always were the approachable one of the family. How you been?”

“I'm making it,” Quentin said truthfully.

“Where's that barracuda of yours? She's usually not here this early. Guess it takes extra time to put all that Jezebel makeup on.”

Quentin burst into laughter. “You mean Chloe?”

“Yes, your fiancée.”

Quentin shook his head. Why did everyone want to insist that Chloe was his fiancée? She was not wearing a ring, and no engagement announcements had been sent.

“She's not my fiancée, Sister Ophelia.”

Ophelia furrowed her eyebrows and pulled Quentin by his lapel close to her face. “So what is she? A booty call? Let me take you on up to the altar right now. God is faithful and just to forgive all your sins. Even illicit relations.”

Ophelia pulled Quentin out of the aisle, but he resisted. “Sister Ophelia, I think I can take myself to the altar if need be. I thank you for your concern.”

“Quentin!”

He would know that shrill voice anywhere. Quentin had hoped that Chloe would be tardy, as was her custom. That day, of all days, she decided to show up on time.

“Here she is now,” Ophelia said. “Y'all can go to the altar together. There's room at the cross for both of y'all.”

“Hello, Ophelia,” Chloe said.

Ophelia's eyes swept Chloe from top to bottom. “Did you get a new haircut?”

“Yes, I did.”

Ophelia nodded. “It kinda makes you look like Dorothy Dandridge.”

“Why, thank you, Sister Ophelia.”

“It shows off the angles of your face,” Ophelia continued. “Your strong jawline is especially noticeable. Like if Dorothy Dandridge had a brother. Dorothy Mandridge!”

Ophelia burst into laughter at her own joke. Quentin closed his eyes and shook his head. Sister Ophelia hadn't changed a bit.

Chloe glared at Ophelia. “I think I just heard one of the ministers ask for a cough drop.”

Ophelia zipped open her fanny pack and pulled out a package of cough drops. “Which one was it?”

Chloe shrugged. “I think it was all of them. You probably need to go and find out.”

Ophelia rushed off at breakneck speed. No one was going to be able to tell her she wasn't on her job. The salvation of the sinners apparently had to wait.

Chloe cocked her head to one side as she smoothed Quentin's lapel. “So you're back at church.”

Quentin's lips became a thin line. He didn't want to talk to Chloe this morning.

“It was a spur-of-the-moment decision.”

“So you break up with me and find Jesus again, all in one weekend.”

“Chloe . . .”

“I'm not going to make a scene here, Quentin. It's the house of the Lord.”

Chloe walked calmly up the center aisle smiling and waving to those who stopped her. She didn't let on that anything was amiss with them as she made her way to the rear of the sanctuary.

Quentin noticed changes in the order of service. Instead of the choir opening service with a song, as they had done when he was the minister of music, a group of six singers stood up and sang praise and worship songs. Montana was one of them, and she was really good. Quentin found himself clapping and almost stood to his feet, but he didn't want anyone to stare at him.

He had to ease himself back into the worship experience. Twice, the musician on the keyboard played a wrong chord. It was barely noticeable, but Quentin couldn't help but hear it. He had always been a perfectionist with his music, and he couldn't turn his ears off. The tenor in the praise team was a little flat too, but overall the congregation was roused into uproarious worship.

Quentin remembered when he was a part of that. When he could lead the congregation into a frenzied worship by playing to match their energy. When he had been on the keyboard, it was like he was tapped into the very pulse of the congregation. When they got high, he'd take it there, and when they were ready for the quieter sounds of worship, Quentin met them exactly where they were. Quentin hadn't realized how much he missed it.

But every moment of the worship reminded him that Chandra was not there. She had been his partner in every way when it came to the music. When his playing hit the frenzied pace, her singing complemented that.

After the praise and worship team finished, the welcome committee, greeters, deacons, and all the other church auxiliaries did their morning routines. When they asked the visitors to stand, Quentin almost did so as a joke, but then he thought better of it, because a hugging brigade was sent to the visitor, and he was not trying to hug anyone else.

Next the choir was introduced, and Montana took her place in front of the microphone reserved for the soloist. She smiled out at the congregation as the introduction for her song started.

“Have you ever been through something you felt like nobody could understand?” Montana asked the audience. “Not your mother, not your father, not your pastor? Have you ever experienced a trial that you could only talk to God about? In those times when we struggle, and we think that no one can empathize with our pain, that's when we stand on God's Word, remember what He said, and encourage ourselves.”

When Montana sang the first few notes of Donald Lawrence's song “Encourage Yourself,” Quentin could tell that her voice wasn't just good. She had an anointed voice. It rose and fell in time to the music and to match the lyrics. The choir sounded like her backup singers, because Montana moved the congregation like a solo artist. She went from one side of the pulpit to the other, making eye contact with members. When she got to the vamp part of the song, the choir sang “I'm encouraged” over and over, but Montana's ad libs were a sermon all by themselves. Quentin had no idea there was so much power inside that petite package. He was in awe of the God in Montana.

“Daddy, you're crying.” Deirdre handed Quentin a tissue, and he quickly wiped his face. The last thing he wanted anyone to think was that he was soft or that he was sitting in service crying over his first wife. He was touched by the sheer beauty and the Holy Spirit that was evident when Montana sang that song. It took everything in him to stay in his seat and not go and push the keyboard player out of the way. He wanted to play while Montana sang.

As Montana and the choir continued, Quentin stood to his feet. He didn't seem out of place, because about half the congregation was standing too. He couldn't stay seated when that type of praise was going forth. He had to be a part of it.

When the song was over, Quentin, along with the rest of the congregation, gave the choir and Montana a huge round of applause. Montana smiled at Quentin, and he smiled back. Quentin was so caught up in the presence of God that he didn't care if Chloe paid him any attention.

Finally, Bishop Prentiss took the stage. Quentin made eye contact with him, and they exchanged smiles before Quentin took his seat. Bishop Prentiss had always been a second father to Quentin, and Bishop was one of the few people that Quentin still talked to from church. Of course, the conversation always turned to when Quentin was coming back, so their discussions weren't as frequent as Bishop would probably like them to be.

“I've been talking to God about this message for a few weeks,” Bishop Prentiss said. “He's been giving me so much to share with you on one passage that I might just have to split it up. I might finish it in Bible study. Y'all do remember that little middle-of-the-week service, right?”