Arykah looked across the desk at Lance to see, through his facial expression, if she had crossed any lines. He softly smiled at his wife and nodded his head in agreement with everything she said. He was well pleased.
“Bishop Howell and I will always be here for you, and we want you to feel free to come to us for anything. We are your spiritual parents, and we’ll do all that we can to encourage you and keep you strong in the Lord,” Arykah assured the young lady.
Lance stood and encouraged the young woman to follow Lady Arykah’s advice. He assigned certain scriptures pertaining to strength, courage, and peace for her to study. He led the three of them in prayer for the young lady’s strength and peace of mind. The woman hugged and thanked them both, then walked out of Lance’s office and closed the door behind her.
Arykah looked at Lance. “You need to deal with Mother Pansie.”
That meeting was still fresh in Arykah’s mind as she and Lance stood in the middle of their master bath. “Lance, you know what happened the last time Mother Pansie counseled a young lady, but if you want her to sit in on the session with Darlita and me, then so be it.”
“Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me; we’re a team.”
Lance kissed Arykah passionately and guided her back to the bed.
“Do we have time for this before church, Pastor? Don’t you have to preach in a couple of hours?” she asked, wanting Lance just as much as he wanted her.
Lance removed his wife’s bathrobe, then he let his towel slip from his waist. “This will help me preach real good.” He enjoyed his wife in between the Egyptian cotton sheets.
Later that morning on the south side of Chicago, the sanctuary at Freedom Temple Church of God was filled to capacity. All fifteen hundred seats had been spoken for. The congregation was in high praise when Lance and Arykah appeared in the doorway entrance to the center aisle.
The praise and worship leader signaled to Adonis Cortland, the head musician, to lower the organ’s pitch while she announced their pastor and first lady. “Please stand and receive Bishop Lance and Lady Elect Arykah Miles-Howell.”
With Arykah standing on his right, Lance tenderly placed his open palm on the small of her back. Arykah wrapped her left arm around Lance’s waist, and they walked confidently as husband and wife, down the center aisle. As he did Sunday after Sunday, with a smile on his face, Lance escorted Arykah to the first pew and greeted Monique, Arykah’s personal assistant, with a peck on the cheek.
Four months ago when Lance walked into the sanctuary for the first time as a married man, he moved his ten deacons from the front left pew to the front right pew. He reserved the front left pew for Arykah, her guests, and Monique. Arykah was now in Lance’s full view.
Mother Pansie hadn’t taken to that rearrangement too kindly. It had been tradition that the mothers sat behind the deacons on the left side of the church. But with the deacons sitting across the aisle, Mother Pansie had to constantly look at Arykah’s back side.
Lance sat in the pulpit with his assistant pastor, Minister Karlton Weeks, to his left. The associates sat on the right side of Lance. Minister Darryl Polk, Minister Tyrone Williams, and nineteen-year-old Minister Alfonzo (Fonzie) Kyles, whom Lance was leaning toward promoting to youth pastor, each shook Lance’s hand and gave him a hearty, “God bless you, Pastor.”
Lance looked at Arykah, then winked his eye and smiled. She returned the gesture.
Monique nudged Arykah with her elbow and whispered, “I saw that, First Lady. You and the pastor should know better than to partake in foreplay in the sanctuary.”
Arykah chuckled and leaned into Monique for privacy. “If you would’ve been in our bedroom two hours ago, you would’ve seen some real foreplay.”
Monique gasped, which caused a few heads to turn their way. She met Arykah’s lean and whispered, “On a Sunday morning?”
On the pew behind them, Mother Pansie tried desperately to hear Arykah and Monique’s conversation. She saw the wink Lance had given his wife. And because Arykah and Monique were leaning into one another whispering and gasping, Mother Pansie concluded that their conversation may not have been appropriate for the sanctuary. She tapped Mother Gussie Hughes, who sat on the right of her, on the knee and nodded her head in Arykah and Monique’s direction.
Mother Gussie, affectionately known as ‘Momma G,’ hadn’t liked Arykah since the day she had first called the church asking to speak to Pastor Howell. As the church’s secretary, she had interrogated Arykah about why she was calling. Once Arykah revealed that she wasn’t a member but just a friend of Pastor Howell, Mother Gussie felt she was just another single lady all too eager for the pastor to place a ring on her finger.
Mother Gussie had had her own plans for Lance’s future. As soon as her granddaughter would have gotten paroled and delivered her third child, Mother Gussie had planned to bring her to the church and introduce her to the pastor. But only weeks after she had answered Arykah’s phone call, Pastor Howell introduced her as his wife.
Mother Pansie and Mother Gussie both turned their noses up at the form-fitting, crimson-red, knee-length crochet dress Arykah had decided to wear to church that morning. They couldn’t help but notice the three-carat diamond platinum studs shining in the first lady’s ears. Her lobes were completely hidden. Arykah’s hair was pulled back into an elegant ponytail that revealed the matching six-carat diamond teardrop necklace around her neck. As Arykah giggled and whispered in Monique’s ear, the mothers saw her bright red lip gloss. And to top it off, her perfectly decorated eyelids were adorned with false eyelashes.
Arykah felt their stares. She purposely placed her right hand on Monique’s left shoulder to give the mothers something to really be hot about. When Mother Pansie and Mother Gussie caught a glimpse of the massive diamond ring on the first lady’s wedding finger, coupled with the diamond tennis bracelet on her wrist, their breaths caught in their throats.
Arykah heard the gasping sounds and turned around with a smile. “Hello, Mothers. It is so good to see you both on this fine Sunday morning.”
The looks on the mothers’ faces confirmed to Arykah what she already knew. They didn’t like her and preferred she didn’t speak to them. But Arykah didn’t wait for a response. She knew it wasn’t forthcoming anyhow.
When her mission had been accomplished, she turned back around and found Lance’s eyes staring into her own. He gave her a half smile and slowly shook his head from side to side, indicating to Arykah that she should be ashamed of herself for meddling with the mothers. She winked her eye at Lance. He smiled broadly, then turned his head to focus on the choir rendering in song.
The mothers hadn’t seen Arykah’s feet yet. She felt Mother Pansie and Mother Gussie would probably have a heart attack if they saw her red stilettos that were adorned with Swarovski crystals.
Many congregants approached the altar for prayer after Pastor Howell had preached a lengthy sermon on prosperity. The associate ministers came from the pulpit to assist their pastor with laying holy hands on the people. Lance called for Arykah to stand by him when he ministered to women. That was new for Arykah. She hadn’t understood what Lance wanted her to do at that time. When he ministered to a woman, he asked Arykah to give her an encouraging hug. Arykah felt honored to be in ministry with her husband. It was exhilarating.
The last woman Lance instructed Arykah to hug was Darlita, the woman she was to counsel after morning service. She stood before Arykah with a tearstained face.
Because Arykah knew Darlita’s story, she immediately pulled her into her arms and began praying for Darlita’s strength and sanity. Arykah was the first to pull away when she had finished praying, but Darlita didn’t let go. She held on to Arykah as if she were in a safety zone. It was as if Darlita felt that if she let go, her world would collapse.
“Come on, sweetie, let’s go to my office,” Arykah said.
Monique saw Arykah guide Darlita from the sanctuary and knew that was her cue to grab
Arykah’s things and follow them. Mother Pansie also saw Arykah leaving the sanctuary with Darlita. As soon as Monique stood to leave, so did she.
Upstairs in Arykah’s office, that was adjacent to Lance’s and just as large, Monique placed Arykah’s Bible and purse on top of the desk and stated that she was going back down to the sanctuary to pay her tithes and offerings.
Soon after Monique had left Arykah’s office, Mother Pansie burst into the room. She was out of breath from climbing two flights of stairs. “First Lady, the pastor asked me to sit in on this meeting you’re having.”
Arykah wanted to curse but remembered her surroundings and the promise she had made to God. “That’s fine, Mother Pansie, come on in.” Arykah placed two chairs on the opposite side of her desk for Darlita and Mother Pansie, but Mother Pansie had positioned herself comfortably in Arykah’s chair behind the cherry oak wood desk.
“That’s my seat, Mother.” Arykah made the statement as calmly as she possibly could, but Mother Pansie was already working on her last nerve. When Mother Pansie had taken her rightful seat, Arykah told Darlita that Pastor Howell had requested that Mother Pansie, the president of the mothers’ board, sit in on the counseling session.
Before Arykah started the meeting, she silently prayed that the Lord would help her control her emotions, but she came to the conclusion that if anything popped off between her and Mother Pansie, it would be her husband’s fault.
She opened her right desk drawer to briefly glance at a poem she had written for herself shortly after some of the women at Freedom Temple revealed their true feelings about her position as the pastor’s wife. The poem was for her own self-encouragement whenever the enemy came upon her to eat of her flesh.
Ain’t Goin’ Nowhere
Me in my high heels and short skirts
Decorated in things that sparkle and shine
That’s right, ladies,
Pastor Howell is all mine
He chose me because I am the cream of the crop
Looking at y’all, humph, do you even shop?
Take a long, wide glimpse of your today
Give it up, haters, because I’m here to stay
Don’t need to explain nothing to you
Only to the one I’m married to
I see you looking, can’t help yourselves
Compared to me, you’re like bookends on a shelf
Trying to be a nice woman to you in church
Having to bite my tongue is hurting me so much
My girl, Monique, got my back with her raw words
To make all you wannabes run like a charging herd
So, keep on whispering, talking, pointing, and looking
I promise you, I don’t care
Whether you accept me or not
I ain’t goin’ nowhere
Arykah shut the drawer and kicked off her stilettos under her desk. “Mother Pansie, Sister Darlita is here seeking counsel. Her husband has committed adultery a third time. He isn’t a member of this church, and according to Darlita, he doesn’t want to give marital counseling a chance.”
The first thing that came out of Mother Pansie’s mouth to Darlita was, “It’s your own fault that your husband is unfaithful.”
“How in the heck is it her fault?” The words flew out of Arykah’s mouth at the speed of light before she had a chance to catch them, not that she really wanted to.
Mother Pansie looked at Arykah with raised eyebrows. “Excuse me?”
Arykah swiveled her high back leather chair in Mother Pansie’s direction. “What do you mean it’s Darlita’s fault that her husband is unfaithful? What is his responsibility to the marriage? Surely you’re not suggesting that Darlita forced her husband to put his shaboinka inside of another woman.”
Mother Pansie’s eyes bucked out of her head. She placed her hand over her heart as if she were going to pass out. She wished Pastor Howell could have been there to witness his wife’s outspokenness. “With all do respect, First Lady of only four months, if a woman keeps her house and takes care of her husband’s needs, he wouldn’t stray. And it would be wise for you to take heed of this advice I’m giving.”
It hadn’t bothered Arykah when Mother Pansie reminded her of how long she’d been the pastor’s wife. Whether she’d been married for four months or forty years, she would not sit there and allow Mother Pansie to make Darlita think that her husband’s infidelity was her fault.
The enemy got the best of Arykah. She forgot that she was there to counsel Darlita. She set her gaze on Mother Pansie. “First of all, my marriage is on point. And you will not sit in my office, in my presence, and convince this sister to accept the blame for her cheating husband. The devil is a liar.”
Mother Pansie was vested; she had put in her time. She had been the church mother for over thirty-five years. More than half of the women in the church, she helped raise from infants. She refused to let some heifer from the street walk into the church and take over her position and teach the women to be disrespectful and rude. She scooted forward in the chair and pointed her finger at Arykah. “Now see, I dun told the pastor that you weren’t first-lady material. You need to show some respect. You only been married a short while. What do you know about being a wife? Sometimes a woman’s gotta go through—”
Arykah stood up from her desk and raised her voice. She wouldn’t let Mother Pansie complete her sentence. “I don’t give a rat’s behind how long I’ve been married! And as far as respect goes, old woman, you’ve got to give it to get it.”
Shocked, Darlita sat still. She didn’t know what to do.
Mother Pansie stood up. She breathed in hot coals and exhaled fire. She raised her pitch to match Arykah’s. “Just who in the heck do you think you’re talking to, li’l girl? You ain’t nothing but a two-bit tramp that latched onto the pastor. Ever since you been here, you ain’t done nothing but walk around here like you’re better than everybody else. I don’t care how bright your bracelets and earrings shine or what you’re driving, you’re still trailer trash, and you need to crawl back under the rock you came from.”
Arykah instantly felt herself being drawn into a zone. She stepped out of herself to watch herself perform a scene from the Matrix movie. Arykah had never performed a back bend in her entire life, but at that moment, she was as flexible as a rubber band. In a circular slow motion, she bent backward and was getting ready to leap forward over the desk.
“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 or Mother Pansie or both of them.
“You see, Pastor? Do you see what happened now that you’ve brought this floozy into our 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 off Mother Pansie’s words. “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, Pastor, 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 declared war.
Urban Books, LLC
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Crossroads Copyright © 2011 Nikita Lynnette Nichols
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ISBN: 978-1-59983-168-8
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