Diary of a Mad First Lady

by Dishan Washington

  The driver came around and opened the door for all of the passengers and I carefully stepped out. Since it was my first time attending, I had no clue where to go. The other passengers seemed to be so familiar with what to do, so I followed everyone else.

  I walked into the spacious foyer of the sanctuary and beheld the expensive chandelier hanging from the ceiling. I admired the marble tile that appeared to have been flown in from another country, as well as the life-size statues of lions that were protected by chain ropes. I was more than impressed with what I saw, and I was eagerly looking forward to the service that was yet to begin. I’d been in church all of my life, but had never really gotten involved. I felt a change coming on, and from the looks of it, Mount Zion Baptist Church would benefit from my plethora of talents. My mother used to always tell me that if I didn’t start using the gifts God gave me, He would eventually take them away. Now that I was about to have me a churchgoing man, I certainly didn’t need that to happen.

  I followed the signs that led to the sanctuary and walked inside. If the foyer wasn’t enough to capture your attention, the sanctuary didn’t disappoint.

  With TV cameras, special lights, and the plush carpet, the atmosphere was breathtaking. Mount Zion was definitely the opposite of what I was accustomed to seeing at home in Florida. The church that I grew up in was a small white church that had wooden floors and pews, yellow jackets buzzing in the summer, and the smell of fried chicken in every room. So, this was a new perspective of church, and I was enjoying it already.

  I took a seat in the back of the third section about midway down the row, hoping to catch a glimpse of Darvin before the worship service began.

  I also took a moment to survey the environment. There were women pacing the floor, microphones in hand, praying for the pastor and his wife, praying for the flow of the service, and for all of the souls that would soon come to Christ. Admiration filled my eyes at the sight of those women, and hope filled my heart, that maybe one day I could pray with such power and conviction.

  Other parishioners filed into the sanctuary as the service prepared to start. The musicians took their places on the instruments, and before long, we were all standing and swaying to the sounds of rich gospel music. I kept scanning the audience for Darvin, but he was nowhere in sight. I’d purposely sat in the back so that I could get a good look at everyone who came in, but even after twenty minutes, Darvin was not one of the ones sitting amongst the worshipers.

  I was frustrated, to say the least. Not only had he invited me to his church and failed to pick me up, it looked as though he’d decided not to attend. That meant I would have to ride that silly van back home. All of a sudden, neither the service nor the appealing features of the sanctuary were enough to calm my nerves. Darvin had lost major points in my book, and I intended to let him know if I ever saw him again.

  I tried to assure myself that since the church was so large, maybe I’d missed seeing him come in.

  Before long, the entire sanctuary had filled to capacity, and it was getting harder and harder to maintain my view of the front. Lost in my thoughts, I heard a man come to the microphone and call everyone to attention.

  “Brothers and sisters of Mount Zion, we want to thank you for coming out tonight to our weekly worship service. We certainly hope that something has been said or done thus far that will richly bless your life in the days to come, and for those of you visiting, we pray that you will come back to worship with us again.” He took a brief pause as members began to respond to his comment with hand claps. After things had calmed down, he resumed speaking.

  “Well, saints, it’s time.” The church erupted in shouts and screams as the musicians played louder than they had previously. I hated to admit that their outburst scared me half to death.

  The man continued. “It’s time to hear a Word from the Lord! It’s time for your breakthrough! It’s time for your healing! Now, are you ready?”

  People all over the building stood, shouted, and applauded their agreement.

  “Let’s prepare to receive the man of God who’s been sent to Mount Zion to lead us and deliver this life-changing Word.”

  Everybody stood to their feet and I followed suit.

  “Let’s give it up for our pastor, Pastor Darvin Johnson!” Before he could get the words out of his mouth, the screams erupted again. Except mine.

  I was convinced that the Earth had ceased turning on its axis and that I was in one of those nightmares that went in slow motion. Did he just say Pastor Darvin Johnson?

  As Darvin approached the podium, the screams got louder. And as for me, I wanted to reduce myself to a liquid and pour myself down the nearest drain. Shock was not the word to describe my emotions. As a matter of fact, there were no words in the English language to describe how I felt. Why didn’t Darvin tell me that he was a pastor?

  I tried to shake away all of this newfound information with a motion of my head, but it didn’t work. Darvin was still standing in the pulpit in what appeared to be a tailor-made suit, and he was preparing to speak. Lord knows he looked good; however, it was no excuse not to enlighten me on his occupation.

  Would this change anything for us? I had never met a pastor other than the one who’d baptized me when I was nine years old. But wait a minute; didn’t every pastor have a first lady?

  My heart started skipping beats. Was he married? Sure, he wasn’t wearing a ring earlier, but was that because he forgot it at home?

  Once again, with a motion of my head, I tried to dismiss the thought of him being married. He couldn’t be. He was supposed to be my man, not anyone else’s.

  “First, I give honor to God, who’s the head of my life,” he spoke. “And second, I give honor to my beautiful wife, Michelle, who’s the love of my life.”

  The remainder of what he said, as well as the service, whizzed by in a blur. All I could think about was the fact that some woman named Michelle was married to my man. God, this was so unfair. If this was God’s idea of a joke, I didn’t find it funny at all.

  Somehow, when the service was over, I managed to unglue myself from my seat and exit the sanctuary as everyone else. Still in a daze, I bumped into a man who I didn’t have to see to know who he was. By the smell of his cologne, I knew that it was Darvin. Pastor Darvin.

  Realizing that it was me who’d bumped into him, he said, “Sister Daphne, I’m glad that you made it.” He then nudged his wife, who was greeting other parishioners, and said, “Honey, this is Sister Daphne Carlton. She’s the woman I told you I gave a ride home today.”

  She turned, and immediately my eyes grew big. It was the woman from the diner! Looking like she’d just come back from shopping at a yard sale, her smile vanished.

  Michelle extended her hand, and if it weren’t for all the eyes on me, I would have tried to break it off and slap her with it. Instead, I extended my hand to her as well. However, my handshake didn’t symbolize a greeting; my handshake was a sign of battle.

  And secretly, with my eyes, I told her that the best woman would win.

  Most women were intimidated by me; she was no different. I could feel it, and it showed in her eyes. My smile returned because getting my man from her would more than likely be a breeze.

  “It’s nice to see you again, and don’t you look. . .” I took a moment to scan the likes of the yard-sale outfit. “Lovely. You look lovely.”

  Her nose flared. “You look rather, um, nice yourself,” she said, trying to mask her apparent irritation.

  I guess Darvin could feel the tension brewing between us and decided to intervene. “Ladies, I’m going to step over here and finish greeting the others. Daphne, please don’t leave until I speak with you further.”

  Michelle could have choked on her tongue.

  “Sure, Pastor. I would love to speak with you in private,” I said, hoping to irritate Michelle even more.

  It seemed to work. The fire in her eyes would have consumed me if the water of my confidence hadn’t put it out.


  Chapter Nine

  Daphne

  I had been waiting to speak with Darvin for more than ten minutes, and my patience was wearing thin.

  No longer able to hide my frustration, I wheeled around on my feet in the direction of the door through which I’d entered, and after tonight, the door I planned to never use again.

  As I walked away, Darvin called, “Sister Daphne!”

  I whirled around with images of fire in my eyes, and through gritted teeth, said, “I am not your sister!”

  He stopped in front of me. “I know that. It’s just a term we use in church.”

  “You know, contrary to your belief, I know a little something about church. It’s not like this is the first time I’ve stepped foot in one.” I shifted my weight to my right side and placed my hand on my hip. “Who do you think I am? Some hopeless woman in need of saving and sanctifying?”

  Darvin looked apologetically into my eyes. “No. I don’t think that at all.” He paused. “Daphne,” he said, intentionally not placing the word sister before my name. “Thank you for coming tonight. How did you enjoy the service?”

  What! Did he really think I was able to focus on a service? “It was nice, Darvin.” I released a sigh. “However, I just have one question.”

  “Shoot.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me you were a pastor?”

  He cast his eyes to the floor and then returned my gaze. “Because I didn’t want you to think that I was being nice to you simply because I was a pastor.”

  “Then why were you nice to me?”

  I looked around his back and noticed that Michelle was watching us even as she was talking to another churchgoer. “You still should have said something. I mean, I was totally blown away when they announced you as the pastor tonight.” Michelle was staring at us so intently; I shifted my body more to the left so that Darvin’s body would shield mine.

  “Maybe I should have. But . . .” He paused.

  “But you wanted to flirt with me,” I finished his statement. “Not to mention that you never said anything about being married.”

  His eyes told me the truth, but his mouth said, “No. I was not intentionally flirting with you.” He looked at the floor once more. “Daphne, there’s something special about you. I really think that you have great things in store for you, and hopefully I can assist in that.”

  What the heck was he talking about? Was he a prophet too? Or was Darvin trying to send me a coded message? Little butterflies began to flutter inside of my stomach. For whatever reason, my hope had returned. I continued to gaze into his eyes, and for a moment, neither of us said anything.

  “Darvin, sweetie, are you ready to go?” Michelle’s voice interrupted my bliss. Little did she know that I had enough to last me through the night.

  “Pastor and First Lady, it was a pleasure meeting you.” I put on the best smile I could muster and moved to walk away.

  “Daphne?” Michelle called.

  “Yes?”

  “Don’t forget to stop by the visitor’s information desk on your way out to get your complimentary gift and information about our church.”

  “I’ll do that.” I turned again and followed the signs that led to the area that Michelle spoke of, as a new plan was already forming in my mind.

  I arrived at the desk, where volunteers dressed in black were smiling and greeting the visitors. I filled out an information card and exchanged it for my gift bag with the volunteer.

  I took my bag and went out the door, dreading the return trip on that dreadful church bus. But I was so excited to get home to further devise my plan that I didn’t mind being temporarily inconvenienced.

  Twenty minutes later, I walked into my apartment, kicked off my shoes, threw my purse on the couch, and headed to my room to get my pen and paper. I needed to write down all of my ideas and place them in order so that I could get to work immediately. I took a notepad and pen from the nightstand and began making notes.

  NUMBER 1 - FIND OUT MORE ABOUT DARVIN AND MICHELLE (I.E. HIS AND HER BACKGROUND, HOW LONG THEY’VE BEEN MARRIED, ANY KIDS, ETC.)

  NUMBER 2 - CALL THE CHURCH OFFICE AND SET UP AN APPOINTMENT WITH MICHELLE.

  NUMBER 3 - GET A NEW CAR.

  Chapter Ten

  Michelle

  Since Dawn had shown up, it was difficult not to spend my extra time thinking about both her and Daphne. The two of them were so much alike, in that they were both persistent.

  Dawn, just as her sister, was obviously determined to show us that she would be a part of Mount Zion whether or not we wanted her to.

  As I entered through the doors that led to the administrative wing of the church, I thought back to a rainy day similar to this one, when I’d walked into my office to find one of our newest members. It had been Daphne.

  I had been ready to start the new work week, glad that our Annual Empowerment Revival was finally over. It had been a lot of work leading up to the revival and I, for one, was glad that it was over. It had proven to be a successful event, and more than forty people had given their lives to Christ. Daphne Carlton had been one of them. Up until the revival, she’d been doing everything that she could to arrange a meeting with me, but I would always conveniently find something to do. That day, I’d run out of excuses. It was either me or Darvin.

  “Good morning, First Lady,” Sabrina, my executive assistant said.

  When Sabrina said that, I had a déjà vu moment. My thoughts escaped back to that day in my office.

  “Good morning, Sabrina. How’s Caleb?” I said, referring to her two-year-old son, who’d recently been sick with chicken pox.

  “He’s fine. Just as hyper as usual.” She beamed.

  I returned the smile. “Well, that’s good to hear. Any calls for me yet?”

  “No, ma’am. No calls. Um, Daphne Carlton did arrive early, and I seated her in your office. I hope you don’t mind, but all of the conference rooms are being used at the moment, and Pastor said that he would sit in there with her until you arrived.” She must have detected my confusion. “You know, for extra precaution. You can never be too careful these days,” she clarified.

  Hmph. Extra precaution, all right. “Of course,” was all said. I grabbed a stack of books that Sabrina had ordered for me and had not yet taken to my office, and walked one door down from the reception area where Sabrina sat, in the direction of my husband and Daphne. Lord knows I didn’t want to have this meeting with her. I agreed to give her a chance, but I certainly didn’t want to know anything more than I had to know about her.

  I opened the door to my office and was greeted with laughter echoing from both Darvin and Daphne. Daphne sat on my cream-colored leather couch, dressed to kill in a turquoise St. John knit suit, and Darvin was next to her, looking equally as delectable in a black linen pantsuit. If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought they were a happy couple, waiting to share some important news with me.

  I cleared my throat because obviously my presence was not felt, and they both turned toward me. Darvin was the first to stumble to his feet. He greeted me with a kiss on the cheek.

  “Hey, sweetheart. You look gorgeous today,” he said.

  I half-heartedly smiled. Any other day that compliment would have meant the world to me, but not today, as I stood in the room with America’s Next Top Model. “Thanks, baby,” I managed to say.

  “Daphne was just sharing with me some of the different, creative ways, I should say, that the men here at Mount Zion are using to try to get her attention. I tell you, I’m going to have to do a better job at teaching the brothers on how to attract a woman like Daphne. Those played-out lines they’re using have been reduced to mere quotes in a joke book.”

  Darvin looked over at Daphne and they both laughed. I didn’t find anything that he said funny. Did he say, “a woman like Daphne”? And since when was it the pastor’s job to do a men’s Bible study on how to attract a woman in the first place? It was hard not to start a verbal war, but I held my peace.

>   “Yeah, you’re just going to have to do that.” I shifted the focus back to why we were here. “Daphne, Sabrina said you have been trying to meet with me for the longest.” I walked past them and to my chair behind my mahogany desk. “I apologize, but I’ve been extremely busy with the revival, and had no free time. It was always this meeting and that meeting.” I exaggerated the statement with a circular movement of my hands.

  “But I’m sure you enjoy every minute of it.” She looked at Darvin before looking back at me. “I know that I would.”

  The little skeezer. I was no model, and in my opinion, I wasn’t above average in the looks department, but I had plenty of common sense. I knew enough to know that she didn’t come here to simply meet with me and share what the Lord had been speaking to her lately.

  “Looks can be deceiving, Ms. Carlton. If, and I do mean if, you are ever to be in a position such as mine, you’ll understand why I say what I say.” I sat down in my chair. “The life of a pastor or his wife is not all glitz and glam,” I said, satisfied with my comeback.

  “Life is what you make it, First Lady. I’ve come to know that it can be whatever you want it to be,” she slammed back.

  Darvin decided that it was a good enough time for him to escape.

  “Baby, Daphne, it’s been real, ladies, but I’ve got to get to my own pastoral duties.”

  He turned toward Daphne. “Daphne, we’re glad to have you as a part of Mount Zion, and if there’s anything that we can do for you, just let us know.” He then walked over to my desk and once again kissed me on the cheek. “See you for lunch, baby.” He turned and walked out the door.

  As he walked out, the residue of the smile that he left on my face vanished when I saw the same smile on Daphne’s face. If I didn’t have Jesus all over me, through me, and around me, I swear I would have slapped that silly grin off her face.