Lady Elect Read online

  “That’s enough, Mother!” Lance stood in the doorway to Arykah’s office with an expression on his face that she had never seen before. Someone was in trouble. Arykah didn’t know whether it was her, Mother Pansie, or the both of them.

  “You see, Bishop? Do you see what happened now that you’ve brought this floozy into this church?” Mother Pansie asked Lance.

  Arykah was fit to be tied. “Floozy? Who are you calling a floozy?”

  Mother Pansie stood her ground. “I didn’t stutter. I called you a floozy with your fishnet stockings and fake hair. You ain’t got no business—”

  Lance slammed the door behind him, which cut Mother Pansie’s words off. “I said that’s enough! I can hear the two of you way down the hall.”

  Mother Pansie looked at Lance. “That’s because your wife doesn’t know her place.”

  Arykah was getting ready to comment, but Lance held up his palm to silence her.

  “Have you finished your session?” he asked Arykah.

  “No, I haven’t.”

  Lance spoke to his wife but focused on Mother Pansie’s eyes. “Take Sister Darlita to my office and finish your session.”

  Arykah hastily grabbed her Bible from her desk and escorted Darlita across the hall to Lance’s office.

  Lance mentally calmed himself before he spoke to Mother Pansie. “Never again are you to speak to my wife in that manner.”

  “But, Bishop, she—”

  “Never again, Mother. Is that understood? Arykah is my wife and whatever she does, she does it under my authority. I won’t stand for you, or anyone else, to disrespect her.

  “And effective immediately, she will be overseeing the women in marital counseling—alone.”

  Lance may as well have slapped Mother Pansie across her face. She snapped her head back in disgust. “What?”

  “It’s time, Mother. You’ve held the ball long enough. I have a wife now, and I trust that she can do the job.”

  Without saying another word, Mother Pansie opened the door and stormed out. Lance would soon realize that he had just declared war.

  Chapter 2

  Later Sunday afternoon, Lance sat next to Arykah, and Adonis sat next to Monique.

  The two couples shared a booth as they dined at Leona’s Italian Restaurant on West Ninety-fifth Street in Chicago Ridge, Illinois.

  “The choir sounded great today, Adonis. I see a major improvement since you came on board,” Lance complimented before inserting a hefty forkful of lasagna in his mouth.

  It wasn’t often that the friends dined out after morning service. Sunday afternoons were usually dedicated to Lance and Arykah’s formal dining room. Lance was gifted in the pulpit, but his passion was standing in front of his stove where he mastered his culinary skills.

  Adonis savored a bite of warm, seasoned Italian bread. “Well, Bishop, I thank you for the opportunity. Truth be told, I didn’t know what we were gonna do after the honeymoon. Since Monique and I are now married, I knew that going back to Morning Glory wouldn’t have been good for either of us. I love the church and the choir, but with Boris being there, it would’ve created an uncomfortable situation for us all.”

  On the airplane ride back to Chicago, after their double wedding in Jamaica, Adonis shared his concern with Lance that he and Monique couldn’t return to Morning Glory Missionary Baptist Church in good faith. It had been his cousin Boris’s church home, where he was the head musician, for many years before Adonis had joined and became a member of the musician staff.

  Monique and Boris had been engaged when Adonis moved into their basement. He was a witness to Boris’s infidelities and total disrespect toward Monique. One morning, after hearing a spat between Boris and Monique, Adonis confronted his cousin.

  “Cuz, why you gotta talk to her like that?” he asked Boris.

  “Look, man, Monique ain’t perfect. She needs to know her place,” Boris replied.

  It wasn’t long after when Adonis began sending Monique flowers to cheer her up after she and Boris had gotten into heated arguments. Having suffered from neglect, rejection, and plenty of verbal abuse at Boris’s hands for two years, it wasn’t difficult for Monique to fall into Adonis’s arms. And because Adonis had married Monique, Boris refused to speak to either of them.

  After swallowing from her glass of raspberry lemonade, Arykah wiped the corners of her mouth with a white linen napkin. It was no secret that she didn’t care for Boris. She knew he was a cheater and hated every moment when her best friend was living with him.

  “Ain’t nobody thinkin’ about Boris. It was his own dumb fault that he couldn’t hold on to a good woman. But hey, when you snooze, you lose.”

  “Well, don’t hold anything back, First Lady. Tell us how you really feel,” Lance chuckled.

  “I’m just saying that there was no love lost between Boris and me. Humph, after the hell he put Monique through, I wouldn’t spit on that fool if he was on fire. She’s much better off without his trifling behind.”

  Monique noticed the conversation at the table carried on as if she weren’t present.

  “Uh, hello? I am sitting here.” She was eager to change the subject. Her ex-fiancé was nowhere on her radar, and Monique wanted to keep it that way. “So, uh, what happened in the counseling session?” she asked Arykah.

  Arykah leaned forward, set her elbow on the table, placed her palm over her forehead, and exhaled loudly. “Oh my God. Mother Pansie has some serious issues. That old biddie is gonna make me catch a case for real. I thought she was gonna pull out a gun and shoot me.”

  Adonis chuckled. “For real?”

  Lance looked at Arykah. “Oh, come on. It wasn’t that bad.”

  Arykah looked at her husband with raised eyebrows. “Lance, please. Don’t even try to act like she wasn’t out of control. You know what you walked in on, and you heard what she said to me.”

  Monique forgot about her grilled chicken Caesar salad. “Girl, what did Mother Pansie say?”

  “She said it didn’t matter how much my jewelry cost, I’m still trailer trash.”

  “What?” Adonis and Monique exclaimed at the same time.

  “I’m telling y’all that if Lance hadn’t walked in when he did, something would have popped off.”

  “Something like what?” Monique instigated.

  “Don’t answer that,” Lance said to Arykah. He knew Monique was trying to get her riled up. Arykah’s tongue was still in church training, and she was failing the course miserably.

  Arykah looked at her husband. “What happened in my office was your fault. You know that, don’t you?”

  “Why is it my fault?” Lance asked her.

  “Because at home this morning, I told you that Mother Pansie didn’t like me and I didn’t want her in the counseling session with me and Darlita. I knew it would get out of control. My views and Mother Pansie’s views on marriage are totally different.”

  Lance couldn’t argue with that. “What can I say? When you’re right, you’re right.”

  “Spoken like a man who wants to keep his marriage a happy one,” Adonis teased.

  Lance looked at Adonis. He nodded his head and winked his eye to let Adonis know that he was correct. Arykah was his first priority. The church came in second. If Lance kept his wife happy, then their home was happy.

  “I informed Mother Pansie that you alone would be conducting marital counseling with the women from now on,” Lance said to Arykah.

  “Humph,” was the only comment Arykah made as she sampled her dessert. Tiramisu was her favorite.

  “Wow, I can only imagine how Mother Pansie absorbed that,” Monique said.

  Lance exhaled. “I would think that by the way she stormed out of the office, she didn’t take it well.”

  “Uh-oh. You better watch your back, First Lady,” Adonis joked.

  “That’s my job,” Monique said protectively. She looked at her best friend. “We may just have to go to jail.”

  Lance and Adonis connected
eyeballs and raised their eyebrows. They knew Monique and Arykah were tight like Krazy Glue, and if anyone in the church came up against one, they’d have to come up against the other as well. And with both of them weighing over two hundred pounds each and carrying attitudes that were just as heavy, it wouldn’t be long before the folks at Freedom Temple Church Of God In Christ realized that Lady Elect Arykah and her sidekick were the new sheriffs in town.

  Later that night after Arykah had put her husband to sleep in his favorite way, she went into her walk-in closet and lay on her dressing divan. She closed her eyes and exhaled. “Lord, I want to apologize for my behavior today. I’m trying with all of my might to be the wife and first lady you want me to be. I’m aware that the enemy is constantly pulling at me, taunting me, and practically begging me to act a fool.”

  Arykah recalled how she let Mother Pansie get under her skin and regretted it. She sat up on the edge of the divan and covered her face with her hands and started rocking back and forth. “Father, please help me. I want to be pleasing in Your sight. I want to stop cussin’, and I want my husband to be proud of me. I don’t want him to hesitate to use me in ministry. Please, God, please strengthen me to walk among my enemies and not give in to the temptation of saying things that’ll have me in here repenting every night.”

  Chapter 3

  Bright and early Monday morning, Mother Gussie Hughes was sitting at her post outside of Lance’s office with her cellular phone held up to her ear. “Pansie, we have to come up with a plan to get that broad out of this church. We just can’t sit back and let her think she’s running thangs around here. And it ain’t no use in tryin’ to talk some sense into the bishop. She’s got his nose so wide open, all he can see is her big wide butt in those short, skintight skirts.” She saw Lance approaching and quickly ended her call.

  “Okay, thanks for calling. I’ll talk to you soon.”

  “Praise the Lord, Mother,” Lance greeted as he passed her desk on the way to his office.

  A pregnant pause presented itself before Mother Gussie responded. “Praise the Lord, Bishop.”

  Lance noticed she had delayed her response and stopped in his tracks. “How are you feeling this morning?”

  She exhaled heavily. “I’m still in the land of the living. I guess that’s a good thang.”

  The last time Lance asked Mother Gussie how she was feeling, she wasn’t nearly as chipper. “My left foot is in the grave, and my right foot is on a banana peel.”

  Lance proceeded to his office and sat behind his desk. Mother Gussie prepared his coffee with two teaspoons of cream and four individual packets of Splenda. It was hot, light, and sweet; just the way he liked it. She set the mug on Lance’s desk and placed herself in a chair across from him.

  She took notice of Lance’s attire. Since he’d been married, he’d traded his conservative dress code from crisp white button-down shirts, an occasional necktie, and slacks, to T-shirts and blue jeans. Lance always wanted to look professional just in case he was called out to minister to someone. He had never wanted to look too casual. Mother Gussie wondered if he still felt that way. There was no doubt in her mind that Arykah was responsible for Lance’s carelessness. To Mother Gussie, the black turtleneck sweater and black denim jeans Lance was wearing made him look more like a regular member of the church than a conservative pastor. She hadn’t yet seen the new black cowboy boots Lance had decorated his feet with. They were a Christmas gift from Arykah.

  “Bishop, you know who Brother Jackson Cartwright is, don’t you?” Mother Gussie asked.

  Lance logged on to his desktop. With about five hundred members on the roll, he tried to jog his memory. “Brother Cartwright, Brother Cartwright. No, I can’t say that I do. Is he active in the church?”

  “No, he’s not active, but he does attend church every Sunday, and he is a faithful tither,” Mother Gussie answered. “You eulogized his wife, Justine, last May when she was killed in a hit-and-run car accident.”

  “Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, now I remember Brother Cartwright. How is he doing?”

  “Not too well, I’m afraid. He called the church this morning and said his only son, Justin, had been found dead late last night.”

  Lance sat straight up in his chair. “My God. What happened?”

  It was then, when Lance made the sudden movement, that Mother Gussie noticed his shiny Rolex watch peeking from beneath the long sleeve of his sweater. She’d never seen Lance wear jewelry that flashy before. It too had been a Christmas gift from his wife.

  “According to Brother Cartwright, Justin had been strung out on dope for years. Before Justin’s death, the Cartwrights always had their son’s name on the special prayer request list.”

  “Was Justin a member of this church?” Lance asked.

  “No. But he had been here a few times. I’m sure it was just to please his parents. Justin could never get into the service. He would just sit there and space out. Brother Cartwright said Justin wasn’t saved.”

  That bit of information saddened Lance. “Oh, wow. That’s a shame. Does Brother Cartwright know exactly how his son died?”

  “The only thing he knows is that when Justin was found, he had been lying in an alley next to a dumpster only a few blocks away from home. There was a needle stuck in his arm. The police are calling it an accidental drug overdose.”

  Lance shook his head from side to side. “Poor Cartwright. First his wife, and now his only son,” he said regretfully.

  “You have a decision to make, Bishop,” Mother Gussie informed him. “The church policy always had been that if someone died who wasn’t a member, they can’t be eulogized here. I didn’t want to say that to Brother Cartwright. I wanted to get your take on it. Brother Cartwright isn’t active in the church, but like I said, he’s one of our biggest tithers. I can’t see Freedom Temple turning its back on Brother Cartwright in his time of need. And I don’t think he’s completely healed from his wife’s death. It’s only been a year.” Mother Gussie shrugged her shoulders. “I mean, do we tell Brother Cartwright that he has to take his son’s body to a funeral home?”

  Lance intertwined his fingers and placed his elbows on top of his desk and thought about Brother Cartwright and all that he must be going through.

  “No, Mother, that won’t be necessary. We’ll accommodate Brother Cartwright and his family with whatever their needs are. He’s more than welcome to have his son’s funeral here at the church.”

  Mother Gussie smiled. “You’re such a softie, Bishop. But you know you’re gonna hear flack from the deacons about this. They are extremely strict when it comes to following the church’s guidelines.”

  Lance picked up his mug, sipped his coffee, and swallowed. “I’m the pastor of this church, am I not? If I say that Brother Cartwright can have his son’s funeral here, then that’s what will happen. If the deacons give you any grief about it, direct them to my office.”

  “Yes, sir,” Mother Gussie said as she stood up to leave Lance’s office.

  “Also, Mother,” Lance stopped her from leaving his office, “please contact my wife at the realtor’s office and tell her about Brother Cartwright’s son. Let her know that I want her to accompany me to visit the family this morning.”

  The last thing Mother Gussie wanted to do was contact Arykah about anything. She faked a smile. “Of course, Bishop. I’ll get on it right away, but don’t you have a meeting with a major land developer at the construction company at ten o’clock this morning?”

  Lance looked confused. “No. That meeting is tomorrow morning.”

  “I don’t think so. I’ll check your date planner, but I’m pretty sure the meeting is this morning, Bishop.”

  Mother Gussie retrieved Lance’s date planner from her desk. She walked back into his office and set the date planner on his desk. She opened it to the month of February.

  Lance read in big bold letters, Monday, February 4th, 2012, meeting with Mr. Ysi Shyuang from Hiroshima Technologies, Japan, ten A.M.

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nbsp; “Oh, my goodness,” Lance said. He quickly shut his desktop down and rushed out of his office. On his way out, Lance said, “Mother, get a hold of Lady Arykah. Tell her about Brother Cartwright’s son’s death. Inform her that I have a meeting that I absolutely can’t miss. I need her to go in my place to pray with the family.”

  Lance had exactly one hour to fight his way through rush-hour traffic, toward the north side of the city, to Howell Construction.

  Mother Gussie called Brother Cartwright at home and informed him of Bishop Howell’s condolences, then relayed his apologies and explained why he couldn’t be present to pray with him and his family. She said that Lady Arykah would be more than happy to attend to his family’s needs. She asked Brother Cartwright what would be a good time for the first lady to come by. Moments later, Mother Gussie dialed Arykah’s number and extension at Bowen Realty.

  “Praise the Lord, First Lady. This is Mother Gussie from the church. How are you?”

  The telephone call caught Arykah completely off guard. She remembered that the last telephone call she received from Mother Gussie hadn’t gone so well. It happened when Arykah called the church the morning after her first date with Lance. When Arykah arrived to work, she saw roses waiting for her at her desk. She knew they had been sent from Lance.

  Arykah called Freedom Temple to thank him. When Mother Gussie answered Arykah’s call, she grilled her about who she was and wanted to know why she was calling the single pastor.

  “Who is this?” Mother Gussie had asked Arykah.

  Arykah could’ve sworn she was speaking with a jealous wife. “My name is Arykah Miles.”

  “Is the pastor expecting your call?”

  “No, but I—” Arykah couldn’t get a word in edgewise.