Five days later, Paris sat outside the office waiting for her time to be called. She’d joined Followers of Jesus Faith Worship Center, Pastor Landris’s congregation, that Sunday. The following day after joining, she’d felt led to call and make an appointment to talk with him about what was going on in her life. Pastor Landris had talked about secrets and how they can eat a person up from the inside. She could definitely give witness to that. When she called to make an appointment, she quickly learned it would be months before she could get on schedule to see the pastor. Admittedly, she wasn’t used to being told she’d have to wait to see her own pastor as she generally could show up at her former pastor’s office and get to see him the same day.
Paris didn’t want to discuss her problem with anyone except the pastor. She was quickly (though politely) informed of how things were done at this church. She couldn’t argue much with the woman; it was a known fact that there was a large number of attendees at the church. She also found out that her financial status, as well as who her father was (or used to be) and who her husband was, didn’t make any difference to these folks. Johnnie Mae, Pastor Landris’s wife, was a counselor and she was available Friday morning. So Paris had taken that appointment, feeling that the anointing on the wife of the pastor was close enough for her.
“Paris,” Johnnie Mae Landris said as she stood before her wearing a light blue long-sleeved dressed that hung from her size-eight body perfectly. “You may come on in.”
Johnnie Mae had her own office she’d just moved into at the beginning of the year. Originally, she’d come in and help out, using an available conference room when she was scheduled to counsel. But her responsibilities had increased so much that she’d been given her own office.
Paris glanced around the nicely furnished space. It wasn’t huge by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, she was surprised it wasn’t larger considering this was the first lady and most certainly someone with pull in the church. Paris sat down in the wine-paisley-cloth-covered chair at the invitation of Johnnie Mae, who sat in a teal executive leather chair.
“Is that a picture of your family?” Paris asked, giving a nod toward a family picture on the cherry wooden credenza behind Johnnie Mae.
Johnnie Mae turned and smiled. “Yes. Although my children are much older now and we really need to take a new one. My oldest child, Princess Rose, just turned twelve December eighteenth. She’s excited that this year, she’ll officially become a teenager. My son, Isaiah, will be six in June. Time most certainly does fly.”
“Oh my, almost a teenager. And teenagers certainly can be a handful. I know I gave my mother and father more than a few fits and their hearts a few starts. So your daughter’s name is Rose and you call her princess?” Paris asked.
Johnnie Mae smiled. “No, her real name is Princess Rose.”
“Oh, okay.” Paris readjusted her body more comfortably in her chair.
“Well, I see you’re a new member here at FOJFWC. So again allow me to welcome you to our family,” Johnnie Mae said.
“Thank you. I certainly have felt welcomed and loved since joining here. My husband and I went through new members’ orientation this past Wednesday. It was most informative.”
“That’s wonderful. So what can I help you with today?” Johnnie Mae said with a smile.
“Wow, we’re just going to go straight into it, huh?” Paris sat back against her chair and released a slow sigh before leaning forward again. She was fully aware that this was also the home church of Gabrielle Mercedes. In fact, when she’d thrown down her threat to take Jasmine from Gabrielle, she’d done it right here at this very church on a Wednesday night. “I don’t mean any disrespect to you, but is what we say in here kept strictly confidential?”
“Absolutely. We don’t play that here at this church. Now, if there’s something that needs to be discussed further with the pastor, then that’s the only time something may be repeated. And Pastor Landris is not one who tries to hit people below the belt by putting their business out in public from the pulpit.”
“No offense, but how do I know what I tell you will stay strictly between us, with the exception of the pastor, of course?” Paris asked. “And how do I know you’ve not already drawn an opinion of me or that you don’t already know things about me and you . . . let’s just say, don’t care for me much?”
Johnnie Mae leaned in and nodded. “Paris, I’m not going to sit here and tell you that I don’t know about you and certain things that have transpired between you and one of our members. I’ll even go so far as to disclose that Gabrielle Mercedes is near and dear to my heart, like a daughter to me.”
“Yeah, Gabrielle seems to evoke that kind of a response no matter where she lands.” Paris placed her hand up to her mouth, then took it down. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t at all Christian-like and it was uncalled for. I’m trying. But as you can see: I have a lot of work ahead of me, a lot of work.” She released a nervous laugh.
“All of us are working on something at one time or another,” Johnnie Mae said. “So don’t beat yourself up too much. But I will tell you that whatever you’ve done in the past, I’m not holding it against you. When we know better, we should do better. I’m praying that you’ve learned to do better since that situation. We’re not going to look back; we’re going to move forward. Is that all right with you?”
Paris nodded. If she told what she’d come in here to talk about, she was most certainly stepping out on faith. She didn’t know Johnnie Mae. She felt like she knew Pastor Landris better, but that was only because she’d heard him preach and felt at ease when it came to him. She knew about some pastors’ wives, first ladies as many either liked to be called or were called. Some of them were okay. But a few she’d known were something else behind the spotlight of having to be constantly on for the “cameras.” She knew many who were great actresses. Those were the ones who generally learned things about members of the congregation, pretending to actually care, then spreading it on the sly. So to trust Johnnie Mae without having studied her longer was a decision she’d have to make at this point, then stand on.
“Before we begin,” Johnnie Mae said, “I’d like for us to pray.”
Paris looked up and smiled. This was a good first step and one she greatly appreciated.
When they finished praying, Paris stared soberly at Johnnie Mae. “I’m pregnant,” she said. There, she’d begun.
Johnnie Mae let out a small chuckle. “Yes, I sort of noticed that. So when is your baby due?”
“April twenty-eighth. It’s my first baby. My husband and I have been trying for a long time, even longer than he even knows. He thought it had been two years when in actuality it was about four.”
“That’s a blessing from God for sure. Congratulations.”
Paris nodded. “Yes. You would think it’s a blessing.” She placed her hand up to her mouth and held it a few seconds before taking it down, and then began to cry. Johnnie Mae pulled tissues from the box on her desk and handed them to her. Paris wiped her eyes.
“It’s okay. Take your time. Is there something going on with the baby? Something you haven’t told your husband?” Johnnie Mae said.
Paris dabbed at her eyes, pulled more tissue from the box, and nodded. “Yes.” Paris was sobbing now.
Johnnie Mae got up and sat in the chair next to Paris as she rubbed her back. “Is it something with the baby’s health?”
Paris shook her head quickly. “Oh, no. The doctors say the baby is developing wonderfully. I’m gaining the right amount of weight. And he seems to be perfect from the ultrasound and listening to his heart.”
Johnnie Mae took Paris’s hand. “So it’s a boy?”
Paris shrugged. “I don’t know. We did the ultrasound and they asked if we wanted to know the sex of the baby. My husband, Andrew, told them we don’t want to know. He’s sort of old fashioned and said he’d prefer being surprised.”
“Is that your desire as well?” Johnnie Mae asked.
“Oh,
it’s fine with me, I guess. Although, I do like knowing things as soon as information is available. I guess I’m just nosey that way. I just like to know. I don’t have much of a waiting gene in my body.”
“So is that the problem? You want to know and he doesn’t? Or is it that you already know but you feel you betrayed him by doing it when he said he didn’t?”
Paris released a short laugh. “You’re kind of getting there. But it’s not about knowing the sex of the baby.” Paris turned squarely toward Johnnie Mae and stared hard into her eyes. “You won’t tell anyone what I’m about to tell you. You promise?”
“I promise. I’m here for you, Paris. We’re family now. It doesn’t matter when you come into the family; you receive all the benefits and privileges as those who’ve been here from the beginning.” Johnnie Mae grabbed both her hands and squeezed them. “What is it? What’s troubling you so?”
Paris glanced down at her basketball of a stomach, then back up at Johnnie Mae. “I’m not sure if the baby I’m carrying is my husband’s.” With her hands out of commission to stop them, tears rolled down her face.
Johnnie Mae released one of her hands and pulled tissue out of the box, dabbing Paris’s tears for her. “Okay.”
Paris took the tissue and stood up, stepping away from Johnnie Mae. With her back turned now, she said, “I don’t know what to do.”
Johnnie Mae stood and walked over to her. She turned Paris to face her as she held her by her shoulders. “Is there a chance that the baby is your husband’s at all?”
Paris nodded. “Oh, yes.”
“So the problem is that there’s a possibility your baby could be your husband’s or someone else’s?” Johnnie Mae said, getting complete clarification.
Paris nodded one time. “Yes.” She shrugged as she went and sat back in her chair. “And just so you don’t think I’m some kind of a floozy or anything, I only slept with this guy one time. It wasn’t a long-term affair or anything like that.”
Johnnie Mae sat down in her teal chair behind her desk and leaned in as Paris continued speaking with her head bowed down, looking at her folded hands.
“It was one stupid time. And the sad part is that I don’t even remember it.”
“So, did this man drug you or something?”
Paris shook her head with her head still in a bowed position. “No. It was all my doing. In truth he was really trying to be helpful. I’d gotten plastered and was in no condition to go home. So he took me to a hotel room—”
“Excuse me? You got drunk and he took you to a hotel room and you see nothing wrong or manipulative about that?” Johnnie Mae said.
Paris looked up into her face and sighed. “No. Because the room was already there for me. I was drunk and really didn’t need to go home because I was also upset with my husband about some information I’d just learned he’d done. He knew—”
“He?”
“The other man. He knew it wouldn’t have been pretty if I went home drunk and in the frame of mind I was in at the time. So he was nice enough to take me up to my hotel room. I do remember coming on to him, so I’m not going to lie and try to make it seem like I was so drunk that I was completely out of it and blameless.”
“But you were drunk. He should never have slept with you knowing that you were not technically in your right frame of mind.” Johnnie Mae sat up straight in her chair.
“Oh, the kicker is the paper I drew up and signed stating that I was doing this of my own free will and volition. Sleeping with him definitely appeared to be something I wanted to do, although I was totally devastated when I learned the following day what had transpired between us.”
“Look, I think you should talk to your husband and tell him this, all of it,” Johnnie Mae said.
“If only it was that easy.”
“Is this person someone your husband knows? A friend of his or something?”
Paris chortled a little. “My husband knows him only slightly . . . by name. They’re not friends or anything like that. But I can’t tell my husband there’s a possibility this baby isn’t his. You should see him, how excited he is about this whole process and experience. He takes off work to go to my doctor appointments with me. He waits on me hand and foot as though I were a queen or something. He talks and sings to my stomach saying the baby is going to know him when he or she gets here. He’s already bonded with this baby, maybe even better than me.”
Johnnie Mae sat back in her chair and nodded. “This is tough.”
“I know. That’s why, early on, I wanted to do this thing you can do to determine paternity while the baby is still in the womb. There’s only a brief window where it can be safely done, and it costs about two thousand dollars, which is fine if you have that kind of money lying around since insurance companies don’t pay for that sort of thing. I didn’t have the money, not like where my husband wouldn’t have noticed. My mother and father are struggling since my daddy is out of his position as an Alabama congressman. It’s like the two of them are starting over. My mother even briefly took a part-time job, if you can believe that.”
“Yeah. Your father is Lawrence Simmons.”
Paris twisted her mouth a few times. “Yes. Although these days, as his family, it’s not something you go around bragging about like in the past. I don’t know just how much you truly know when it comes to my father and Gabrielle—”
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to just keep the conversation on that which pertains to you,” Johnnie Mae said without giving away what she may or may not know.
“Okay,” Paris said. “Anyway, I talked with the other man about possibly doing this test, but that didn’t pan out so well. In fact, he’s pretty certain this baby is not his. In truth, that might seem plausible except for how long my husband and I have been trying without there ever even being a false alarm of success. Then the one time I happen to do something like this with another man and voila, I’m pregnant.”
“So you feel then that most likely this baby is the other man’s and not your husband’s?” Johnnie Mae said.
“I pray this baby is my husband’s. I don’t know what I’m going to do if it’s not. Honestly, my husband would likely never know if he’s not his. I mean, I know. The other man has been told, but I can fix that easily by telling him he definitely isn’t. And with the exception of me telling you right now—”
“Which you could very well come back later and tell me the baby definitely is your husband’s and I would be none the wiser as well,” Johnnie Mae said.
“Well, I’m not going to come back and purposely lie to a preacher’s wife. I recall the story about those two people in the Bible who fell dead after they lied. . . .”
“You’re talking about Ananias and his wife, Sapphira, who lied to Peter about how much their land had sold for when they were selling possessions and bringing the money to benefit the ministry,” Johnnie Mae said. “The problem wasn’t in them keeping back part of what they sold the land for, as the land was theirs to do with as they pleased. It was their flat-out lying about it. And Peter told Ananias that Satan filled his heart to lie not to them but to the Holy Ghost. He and his wife didn’t have to lie. We do have to be careful because a lie is not necessarily to people, as we believe it to be, but to the Holy Ghost, which is a dangerous thing to play with.”
“Yes,” Paris said. “And from what I know about Pastor Landris and this ministry, there’s no way I would go there. So for now, I don’t know if this baby is my husband’s or not. So you see what I’m dealing with here. I just need some godly advice on what I should do. Do I tell my husband now or wait until the baby gets here? In truth, I could do a normal DNA test, much less costly and without my husband’s knowledge, after the baby is born. That way, if the baby is his, he never has to go through any pain concerning this. If the baby isn’t, we can deal with that fact from there.”
“So you’re asking me whether you should tell your husband that you cheated on him, albeit only that one time, and that you’re no
t sure if the baby you’re carrying is his or not. Is that what you’re asking?”
Paris bit down on her bottom lip. “Yes, ma’am. That’s what I’m asking. Plus, I needed to get this secret out of me. It’s been eating away at me, just like Pastor Landris preached on Sunday. The devil has been having a field day with my mind and I needed someone to confide in. I wanted to talk with Pastor Landris, but that wasn’t doable at this time—”
“So you ended up with me instead,” Johnnie Mae said with a warm smile.
“I wouldn’t put it quite that way at this point. God knew what He was doing. He knew what I really needed. I would say He blessed me to talk with you instead.”
“Praise God for that. This is what would seem to be a great dilemma. The question is: Do you keep this secret from your husband, believing it will maintain peace in your household at least until there’s a reason to possibly tear things up? Or do you tell your husband the truth that he deserves and has a right to know, the fact that he may not be the baby’s father.”
Paris placed her hands up to her face and pressed hard as she waited on the answer this woman of God was about to tell her. But at least she’d made a step toward lightening her load on what had become a tempest-tossed ship.
Chapter 8
And if a stranger sojourn with thee in your land, ye shall not vex him.
—Leviticus 19:33
Zachary Wayne Morgan walked quickly through the door his aunt Esther held open for him. “I came as quickly as I could get here,” he said to her. “Where is Gabrielle?”
“She’s upstairs with her father. We’re supposed to be sitting down to eat, but the two of them have been up there for a while now.”
“Dr. Z!” Jasmine said, running into his arms. “I didn’t know you were coming in time for dinner.”
He hoisted her up into the air and smiled. “My favorite little girl in all of the world!”
The Other Side of Divine Page 5
