Diary of a Mad First Lady

by Dishan Washington

  I flung the door open without looking again, and for the second time that night, I was speechless.

  “Where is my husband?” Michelle demanded to know as she pushed her way past me and into the house. She had fury in her eyes that suggested that everything in her path would be destroyed if put in her way.

  However, she had yet again underestimated me. No real scandalous diva, would allow such a prized moment to escape. “He’s in my bedroom. . . changing,” I said, as I walked toward my kitchen.

  “Changing what?” Michelle asked.

  “His clothes,” I said with no emotion.

  “Since when does my husband have clothes at your house?” She paused for a second as if a light bulb came on. “What is going on between you and my husband?”

  I gently laughed at Michelle’s incredulous accusation. She was really sad.

  “Why don’t you ask him what’s going on? I’m not married to you; therefore, I owe you no explanation.”

  Michelle pursed her lips together into a thin line. “You’re right. Where is he?”

  “Again, he’s in my bedroom,” I said, smiling. The night was turning out better than I could have ever planned.

  Michelle’s mouth flew open. Her worst nightmare was coming true. She thought her husband was cheating on her with her sworn enemy.

  At that moment, Darvin came out of the back, tucking in his shirt and saying, “Thanks for the shirt. I don’t know how I would have gone home with the other shirt on. Michelle would have killed me.”

  It was then that he saw her.

  “I’m not going to kill you. It would do you a favor. I’m going to leave you, Darvin,” she said just above a whisper. “I’ve had enough.”

  “Michelle . . .”

  She threw her hands up. “Please, don’t try to explain, because I don’t care to hear another explanation. I’m tired of your explanations. I’m tired of having to always understand your explanations. I’m tired all the way around. It’s over, Darvin,” she said as she turned to walk out of the door.

  He ran after her, took her by the arm, and swung her back around. “You don’t mean that. I was just—”

  Darvin was once again interrupted.

  “I do mean it. I’m so, so tired,” she said through tears. “I’m tired in my spirit.” She made her point by pointing to a place on her chest as if it held the treasure of her soul. “I can’t take it another day.” She took her hand and ran it down his face. “I’ve tried, and I’ve concluded that I’m not cut out for this. My expectations, my needs—everything—are so different from what’s needed to be your wife, or the wife of any pastor. So, I bow out. I bow out gracefully.” She gazed at me, and then, in the same manner in which she spoke, she walked out of the door. Darvin stood watching her walk away.

  I released a breath that I’d been holding in as I witnessed the moment that I’d been waiting for take place in my living room. My job had been done.

  Michelle had released Darvin, and now he was free to be mine. The feeling I felt was nothing short of amazing. She had handed him over to me right in my own house. I couldn’t believe it. She must have really been fed up to give me that satisfaction.

  “Um, Pastor, I’m so sorry about what just happened. I don’t know what to say.”

  He continued to stare at the door. “It’s not your fault. It’s mine. I should have never come over here. I shouldn’t have done a lot of things.”

  He slowly turned the knob and walked out of the door, this time leaving me standing and staring.

  It was a bittersweet victory. Darvin appeared to be genuinely hurt. His marriage was ending; I guess I would have reacted the same way. It would take some time to get over, but he would. And I would help him. I would be there with him every step of the way.

  I walked back to my bedroom and whispered a prayer of thanks to God; for once again, He had come through for me. My mother used to always tell me that God made His sun to shine on the evil and on the good, and sent rain on the just as well as the unjust. Her words had proven to be true.

  With that thought, my mind wandered to my mother. It had been a while since I’d spoken to her. I grabbed my cell phone from the nightstand and punched in her number.

  The phone rang three times before she picked up.

  “Hello?”

  “Mom? Is that you?” I asked.

  “Daphne? Baby, are you all right?” Pause. “It’s pretty late.”

  I smiled. My mother called it late a minute after the sun went down.

  “I know, Mom. I just called to check on you. I wanted to hear your voice,” I said, holding back tears. I missed her, and I could imagine her smile.

  “How you faring up there, baby? You taking care of yourself? You ain’t in no trouble, are you?”

  Why did she have to go there?

  “Ma, contrary to your belief, I’m not a troublemaker,” I said, clearly irritated.

  “I know you ain’t, Daphne. It’s just that you left here so suddenly and against my wishes. I didn’t think you were ready to go back around those people.”

  “Well, turns out you were wrong. Turns out that I’m about to get married,” I said, exhilaration returning.

  “Married? Daphne Carlton, are you telling me the truth? You fixin’ to be married?”

  “Yes, ma’am!”

  Maybe Darvin hadn’t proposed yet, but now that Michelle was out of the picture, it would be any day now.

  “Oh, my goodness!” she said enthusiastically. “To who?”

  “Pastor Darvin Johnson,” I stated proudly.

  Silence.

  “Mom, you there?”

  “I’m here. Daphne, what have you done?”

  What! Did she not just hear me? Why couldn’t she just be happy for me, instead of always criticizing?

  “I don’t have time for this. I was expecting a different reaction from my mother, but you never have been able to understand me. You never did want to see me happy,” I accused.

  “Now, you know that ain’t true. I’ve wanted nothing but the best for you, child. But I ain’t never wanted to see you destroy somebody else’s life trying to get it. You were told to stay away from that man and his wife, and you promised me that you would. I don’t want to see you end up in jail this time.”

  “Well, I lied. I had to follow my heart,” I said bitterly.

  “Don’t let your heart lead you to hell, Daphne. You will reap what you sow.”

  With that, I hung up the phone. I didn’t want to hear another word.

  Tonight, God had answered my prayers, so if my heart was leading me to hell, then to hell I was going.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Michelle

  The tears stung my eyes as I struggled to pack as much of my belongings into my suitcase as I could. The pain and anguish that I felt tore at my heart, and stabs of hurt pierced my body. As I placed each piece of clothing into my bag, I felt as if I were putting my marriage in there one day at a time. Memories of the good times that Darvin and I had made the tears fall harder.

  I didn’t understand how he could throw it all away for someone like Dawn. Was it because she was attractive? Financially successful? Was it because she was able to offer him so many more things than I could? Somehow, I had honestly believed that what I gave him was enough.

  I laughed because it was almost funny how Dawn had come in and finished what Daphne had started. Daphne had not been successful in destroying us, and after she left, Darvin and I had become closer than we had ever been in our marriage. Dawn, on the other hand, had appeared, and had almost perfectly devised a better plan to obliterate my life. She had done it. I was done. It was over.

  Trying to grasp that thought was difficult. So much of my life was intertwined with Darvin’s, and trying to erase him out of it as if he were never there would be difficult. My head started hurting, and I tried ignoring the sharp pains that I was feeling in my stomach. The baby. What were we going to do about the baby? How would we raise our son?

&
nbsp; I swirled my head in circles, in hopes of ridding myself of the headache and the reality of what was happening. And what about the church? What would we tell them? I thought about the members of Mount Zion and how I would miss them. They had become so close to me, and I to them. Life without them would be hard, even if they sometimes got on my nerves.

  I thought about the many tender moments that Darvin and I had shared over the years. I thought about all of the things that we had survived together, endured together, and fought through together. I would never forget those things. I would never forget his touch, his scent, his smile, those mesmerizing eyes, the way he managed to make me laugh at just the right moments, the way he stared at me, admiring my beauty until I was uncomfortable; his protectiveness, the way we finished each other’s sentences, the way he gently made love to me until he rocked me to sleep—I would miss him terribly.

  I sat down on the side of the bed and allowed the screams that I’d been holding in escape. I cried until my body shook, and until I heard the sound of the bedroom door open.

  “Michelle, are you okay?”

  He had some kind of nerve. “What did you just ask me?”

  “I know that’s insensitive of me to ask and a tad bit redundant, but I don’t know what else to say. You wouldn’t let me explain.”

  I had no energy to argue. “There is nothing more to say. It’s over. It’s that simple.” I stood up and continued to pack.

  He walked toward me. “You don’t have to leave. If this is what you want, then I’ll leave. You’re pregnant, and I don’t want you trying to find anywhere to go.”

  I was sure going to miss that thoughtfulness too. Lord, how did we get here? “I’ll be fine. I was making it just fine before I married you,” I said sarcastically.

  Defeated, he took the clothes that I was about to place in my bag from my hands. He then took the items that were in the suitcase and placed them back in their respective places.

  “I won’t let you go. Baby, I need you. I just can’t allow you to give up on us,” he cried. “You can’t leave me. You won’t leave me.”

  Anger rushed from my body like water from a faucet.

  “You can’t tell me what to do anymore! I am not your wife. And for the record, I didn’t give up on us. You threw us away. So why don’t you go across the street and tell Dawn what to do? Both of you deserve each other! You make me sick to even look at you. How could you throw away our life like this? How could you do this to us? Our family?” I broke down, and the sobbing started again.

  He was at my side before I could blink. I allowed him to hold me for what might be the last time. I put my head in the crease of his arm and wept until I had no more power to weep. No one could have told me that we would end this way.

  He allowed me to cry without saying anything. When I felt I had released everything that I needed to get out, I was tired and ready to go to sleep. Fatigue outran my rush to leave, and I decided to wait until the morning. No sense in not getting a good night’s sleep on account of this drama.

  Darvin tucked me into the bed and just as he did every night, kissed me goodnight, as well as the baby. I watched him walk out of the door.

  When sleep overtook me, I had the same dream over and over again.

  I dreamt that I was shooting Dawn.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Michelle

  The morning came sooner than I wanted it to. I turned over on my side only to see a letter resting on Darvin’s pillow. I rubbed the remnants of sleep from my eyes, grabbed the letter, and turned onto my back to read it.

  Dear Michelle,

  I hope that you slept well last night, and I pray that you find it in your heart to read this letter in its entirety. I know you said that you didn’t want an explanation of what happened last night, but I didn’t want us to separate without you knowing that nothing ever happened between Dawn and me. I was in the back changing my shirt when you walked in because I’d wasted grape juice on the one I was wearing. Dawn convinced me that I needed to change so that I wouldn’t further upset you. I know now that was a stupid mistake, and if I could take it back, I would.

  I love you, Michelle, more than I love myself, and the last thing I want, is to be without you. So, I’m begging you, pleading with you—before you make a decision to leave me—just think about it. Think about us. Think about our son. Think about our life together. And if you decide to believe me, forgive me, and give me another chance, I promise to spend the rest of my life making you happy and putting your feelings first. No matter what.

  I love you, and breakfast is waiting for you downstairs. I’m going to the office if you need me.

  Love,

  Your Husband

  I held the letter to my chest and cried. As much as my head was telling me not to believe him, my heart confirmed that what was written was the truth.

  However, the point was no longer about what had happened at Dawn’s, but was about whether I could handle this life anymore; whether I was strong enough to handle being the first lady anymore.

  My thoughts were interrupted by the trickle of water sliding down my leg. It took a moment for me to realize what was happening. When it finally set in, my body went into a myriad of emotions. Fear, joy, and excitement were all overtaking me. I was afraid to move for fear of doing something to the baby.

  Wait a minute.

  I wasn’t due for another four weeks. I couldn’t be going into labor. It wasn’t time.

  Panic zipped through my body. I reached for the cordless phone that was on the nightstand and dialed Dr. Stenzel on her private number.

  “Hello?” Dr. Stenzel answered.

  “Dr. Stenzel, this is Michelle Johnson,” I said nervously. “I think I’m in labor.”

  “Okay, Michelle, I don’t want you to panic. Just continue to breathe. Everything is going to be just fine. What happened that makes you think you’re in labor?”

  “My water broke.”

  “Okay, I want you to meet me at the hospital. How long ago did your water break?”

  I didn’t answer for a second because a labor pain was starting to form.

  “It happened just before I called you,” I finally managed to say.

  “Hmmm . . . Is Darvin with you?”

  “No. He’s at the church.”

  “Well, you need to call him and have him rush home immediately. I need you to get to the hospital as soon as possible, to see what’s going on.”

  “Okay,” I said, trying to control my fear.

  Dr. Stenzel knew me all too well. She said, “I know you’re scared, but I have no doubt that you are going to deliver a very healthy baby boy, who’s going to be just fine. Now hang up and call Darvin so you can get to the hospital.”

  I hung up and immediately called Darvin.

  “First Lady Johnson’s office,” Sabrina, my executive assistant, said.

  “Goodness. Hi, Sabrina, this is First Lady. I’m sorry. I meant to call Ann. I’m trying to get in touch with Pastor. I didn’t even try his cell because I remembered Ann telling me that he had a meeting this morning.”

  “Hey, First Lady! Yes, he’s in a board meeting. Do you need me to get him?”

  “Yes. Please tell him that it’s an emergency,” I said, trying to conceal my labor pains.

  “Are you all right? Should I call Chanice?” Sabrina asked, almost out of breath.

  “Sabrina, just get Pastor for me.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I’m going right now. Hold on one second,” she said as she put me on hold.

  I was holding for about two or three minutes before Darvin got to the phone.

  “Hey, baby, are you okay? Sabrina said it was urgent. What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

  He was throwing so many questions at me I almost forgot why I was calling. “I’m in labor. I need you to get home right away.” The pains were now coming more frequently.

  The phone went to a dial tone before I had a chance to say good-bye, and I whispered a little prayer for Darvi
n that he would make it home safe.

  I got up and went to get dressed. Once in the closet, I chose a skirt set to wear, grabbed my flats, and walked to the kitchen to wait for Darvin. I looked in the coat closet next to the front door and grabbed my hospital bag that I’d packed when I first found out that I was pregnant. I had changed some things in it over the course of the pregnancy, but whatever was in there now would have to stay in there.

  I heard the garage door opening and looked at my watch. Darvin had made it home in ten minutes flat. I grabbed the overnight bag and went to meet him at the door.

  He rushed to me. “Baby, are you okay? How do you feel? Are you in any pain? Do I need to get anything for you?” he asked, out of breath.

  I motioned for him to take the overnight bag from me as I went toward the passenger’s side to get into the car.

  After getting me settled in, he got into the driver’s side. He squeezed my hand. “It’s going to be all right, baby. And the baby is going to be just fine,” he said.

  He always had an uncanny way of reading my mind and deciphering my worries. Since my water had broken, I’d been petrified that the baby wouldn’t make it. All of the horror stories about babies being born early—especially male babies before the 37 week—were wearing on me. I knew I needed to activate my faith, but it was so hard to do right now.

  We made it to the hospital in twenty minutes flat, and by the time we arrived, tears had soaked my face. The pain was unbearable. I don’t know who told me not to get an epidural, but it must have been a man, because no woman who’d ever experienced child birth could possibly tell me to go natural. The pain was so bad, my eyes were crossing.

  Darvin jumped out, grabbed a wheelchair, and rolled me into the ER.

  “Excuse me, ma’am, my wife is in labor and we need to see our doctor immediately,” he said to the hospital worker.