The Bishop's Daughter

by Tiffany L. Warren

“Wow. I’m glad the two of you talked.”

  “Me, too. Where is Darrin, anyway? I haven’t seen him lately.”

  “I’m not sure, but I think he went home to Cleveland. I haven’t really talked to him since Oscar and I got together.”

  “That’s a shame. He’s a nice young man.”

  I nod in agreement. “He is.”

  Daddy draws in a long breath. “Emoni, you know I don’t like to get in your business. You’re an adult and quite capable of making decisions …”

  “But?”

  “But are you sure you want to date Oscar?” Daddy pulls out a chair and motions for me to sit down.

  “Why are you asking me that, Daddy?”

  “Because I know you, and you’re not happy. You should be ecstatic about your relationship.”

  “I want to be happy! I do! But I just keep thinking I might be making a big mistake.”

  “Honey, there is no harm in waiting until you’re sure. If Oscar loves you like he says he does, he’ll wait.”

  Tears fill my eyes. “Thank you for saying that, Daddy, because he’s been pressuring me a little. I’m just not ready.”

  Daddy’s face darkens into a frown. “Do you need me to handle him?”

  “No, Daddy. I can handle it.”

  “All right.”

  I stand up and get Sister Ophelia’s bottle of water, and Daddy heads for the parlor with the cookies and cocoa. Mother walks into the kitchen with puffy eyes and a distressed expression.

  “Diana, what’s wrong?” Daddy asks.

  “You had to bring him here? You had to bring that drug addict’s son in my house?”

  “Diana …”

  I try to sneak out of the kitchen, but Mother says, “No, Emoni, you stay. You need to hear this, too.”

  “Okay …” I whisper.

  “You all might think I’m being hateful by not wanting to deal with that young man. But I just don’t believe that he is your son,” Mother says.

  I want to say, “The DNA doesn’t lie,” but I don’t. Mother already looks like she’s coming undone.

  “Diana, I can’t just not be a father to him because it makes you uncomfortable.”

  “Why not? You’ve done it for over twenty years.” Mother snatches a cookie from Daddy’s tray and goes back upstairs.

  Daddy calls after her, “You spending the holiday upstairs?”

  “Don’t worry about me. Go raise your grown son.”

  Daddy sighs and shakes his head. I try to encourage him a little. “Daddy, she’s being a drama queen. She’ll come downstairs later.”

  But she doesn’t. Even after the caterers arrive and Tyler comes back from his charity work. She stays in her room while everyone eats the turkey and side dishes that she ordered. She doesn’t come down to open gifts, even though this is her favorite part of Christmas.

  While Daddy and Sascha set up the yearly game of Pictionary, I grab Oscar’s hand so we can slip out of the family room. I need to have this conversation with him now, while I have the nerve and before I think too hard about being dateless and manless for yet another New Year’s Eve.

  “What is it, baby?” Oscar asks.

  I cringe at the endearment. It’s a reflexive cringe. I couldn’t have stopped it if I had tried. “Don’t call me that, Oscar.”

  “I can’t call my girlfriend baby?”

  “No. This is going in, like, warp speed. We went from Sister Emoni to baby in, like, five seconds.”

  “What’s your point?”

  “My point is this: You aren’t the one for me. I’ve known that for a while. I’ve been selfish.”

  Oscar’s face contorts into a mixture of pain and anger. “You’ve known?”

  “Listen, you caught me when I was having some mixed-up emotions—”

  “Caught? You act like I trapped you!” Okay, now he’s angry. Fists balled up and eyes looking wild.

  I take a few steps back. “In a manner of speaking, you did. But I’m not angry. I just think we should end this before someone gets hurt.” I hand him the wedding planner that he gave me as a gift.

  “So that’s it? You’re done with us?”

  Why is he asking me this? Why is the ball always in my court, as if I know anything? I don’t know anything.

  “Yes, Oscar. I’m sorry, but I am done with this.” I can’t bring myself to say “us.”

  Oscar takes his coat from the rack and goes right out the front door. I see the wetness in his eyes, so I don’t try to stop him.

  I thought that I would be cool with this. But watching Oscar walk out of my house is like saying goodbye to my future. Maybe he could’ve been my future. In a few years we probably would’ve had two kids and a house.

  I go back into the family room to finish the holiday. Kevin and Sascha are gazing into each other’s eyes. Even with all of the mistakes they’ve made, they’re giddily in love. They act like there’s no one in the room but them. That’s what I want.

  Not someone who can only make me say maybe.

  Chapter Forty-two

  Darrin

  Praise the Lord, Brother Darrin.”

  “He’s worthy, Sister Ophelia.”

  I’m back in Atlanta, and it’s New Year’s Eve. Not at a party; don’t have a date. Sitting up in church like somebody saved for real. Talking to Sister Ophelia and not the pretty girl who just smiled and winked at me.

  Ophelia cocks her head to the side and comments, “Didn’t think I’d see you here tonight. Baby saints usually backslide on this particular holiday.”

  She’s unbelievable. I smile and reply, “Must be the Holy Spirit.”

  “It’s something.” She walks away from me and to her seat because service is about to start. It’s a full house, like Sunday-morning worship.

  I scan the sanctuary, trying to get a glimpse of Emoni. She’s not with Oscar. He’s sitting in the pulpit with a sour look on his face. Tyler’s there, too, and wearing a preaching robe. This brings a smile to my face. Maybe he and Bishop have worked some things out.

  There’s Emoni. She’s with the lovebirds Sascha and Kevin. It’s so funny that they don’t care if the whole congregation is talking about them. They sit front and center, hand in hand, like, “What y’all looking at?”

  Bishop Prentiss comes out of his office and stands before the congregation, carrying only his Bible. He wears a serene smile.

  He starts to sing: “‘Jesus … Jesus … Jesus … there is something about that name … ’”

  The congregation, including me, joins in. The song is beautiful, moving, and touching, all at the same time.

  Bishop leads the congregation in singing the song again. Tears are flowing down his cheeks, and he makes no effort to stifle them or wipe them away. Bishop raises his hands toward heaven and rocks back and forth. He’s worshipping as if only God is in the room and not thousands of his members.

  After he composes himself, he speaks into the microphone. “Praise God this evening, everyone.”

  The church replies with a thunderous round of applause. Bishop waits for the fervor to die down and then continues, “I have a confession to make, everybody.”

  The congregation looks confused, but I’m on the edge of my seat. He goes on, “I am guilty of not using what God has put in my own house.”

  He motions for Tyler to stand. Bishop says, “Some of you may know that my son Tyler is now one of the assistant pastors at Love Outreach.”

  The applause starts again. Tyler grins a little. Don’t think he expected any of this.

  “He’s over there with a heart on fire for evangelizing and winning souls. He’s doing what God has called him to do. But I’ve got a confession for you all …”

  Bishop smiles. “I never told y’all that this young man can preach! So, I present to you all … my son … who makes me proud to be called his father. Pastor Tyler Prentiss!”

  The entire church bursts into spontaneous praise again. Bishop hugs Tyler and steps to the side so Tyler can stand in front of
the podium. Emoni is on her feet, clapping and stomping with everyone else.

  Tyler says, “Good evening, y’all. I stand before you this evening feeling blessed to be here. I am humbled by my father’s words, because he has truly been an example for me. Not only as a pastor but as a loving father who accepts everyone into his heart. Thank you, Bishop.” He then asks, “Can y’all sing with me? ‘Walk with me, Lord … walk with me.’”

  The congregation joins in with singing and clapping. Everyone seems to feel the Spirit moving through the sanctuary.

  Tyler claps his hands and shouts. “This is New Year’s Eve service, but I’m not going to preach about resolutions. Nor am I going to preach about all the sinners who are going to hell for partying tonight.” Laughter fills the church.

  “Tonight I’m going to talk about forgiveness. Be-cause … let me say … I count it all joy to serve such a loving and forgiving God.” Tyler whispers, “’Cause I’ve backslid a couple of times …”

  When he doesn’t get a response from the congregation, he continues, “Oh, I must not be talking to anybody up in here. Y’all some sanctified folks out there! Well, all right, then, I’ll preach this message for me.”

  A woman stands from her seat and shouts, “You betta preach! You ain’t by yoself!”

  I stand up and clap along with the woman. If anyone can cosign about backsliding, I can.

  “I’ve seen many tests of my faith, saints,” Tyler goes on. “And I haven’t passed them all. This walk hasn’t been a straight line. I’ve taken some detours and had a few crashes. But oh … thank Jesus … that He’s been with me on this walk. Amen, somebody?”

  “Amen!” is the congregation’s unanimous response.

  “Saints of God, please turn your Bibles to Matthew Eighteen and start at Verse Twenty-one. That is where the Holy Spirit led me when I sat down and prepared this message.”

  After the rustling of pages dies down, Tyler reads: “‘Then came Peter to him, and said, Lord, how oft shall my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? till seven times? Jesus saith unto him, I say not unto thee, Until seven times: but, Until seventy times seven.’”

  After a moment of reflection, Tyler preaches. “Our Father in heaven demands that we forgive one another. For the large transgressions and the small transgressions, saints. From stealing your husband to sharing a small secret. All of it. And really, when we think about it, isn’t it all small?”

  Members of the congregation nod their amens and wave their hands high. Normally, the congregation would be a lot more animated and noisy, but it seems as if everyone is savoring Tyler’s every word.

  “It’s all small compared to how He’s forgiven each and every one of us. The stain, filth, and stench of sin is on us from birth. I sometimes wonder how disgusting we must be to the Lord when we are in the midst of our sins. It reminds me of how my mother took care of me and my sisters when we were little.

  “I remember one time when all three of us were ill with the flu. We had all sorts of disgusting fluids coming from both ends. I had never seen my mother clean up so much nastiness. But she did it without a word. Why? Because her babies were sick, and she loves us. She rocked us to sleep even though our breath reeked of vomit. We were not disgusting to her.

  “God is like that, y’all know that, right? We’re His children, and He loves us no matter how disgusting we are. Even when we fail to live up to His holy standards. Even when we take His forgiveness for granted.”

  Bishop Prentiss seems overwhelmed by his son’s words. He falls to his knees right there in the pulpit and cries out to God.

  The congregation takes Bishop’s lead, and people all over the sanctuary lay prostrate before God, crying out and giving their lives to Him. It’s the most moving display of worship that I’ve ever been part of.

  During the beautiful chaos, Kumal Jr. walks into the church and down the center aisle. He walks up to First Lady Diana and holds both arms out wide. She pauses for a moment but then gingerly embraces her stepson with tears in her eyes.

  Emoni crosses the sanctuary and joins their embrace while Bishop continues praising God. This is the type of story that only God can write.

  “Happy New Year, Brother Darrin!” Dorcas gives me a jolly church hug. I’m shocked.

  “Happy New Year, Dorcas.”

  She asks, “You going over to the breakfast buffet?”

  “You know it!”

  “You need to be over there helping with the food?”

  She’s right, but I say, “Ophelia wouldn’t want me over there telling her she can’t cook!”

  “True.” Dorcas sees some of her friends and waves. “I’ll see you over there, okay?”

  When I make it through the crowd and over to the fellowship hall, I save myself a seat and head straight to the buffet line. I know how it works at these church buffets. You snooze, you lose. And a brotha could use a little sustenance right now.

  I feel a light tap on my shoulder. I turn and face the tapper—Emoni. The girl throws me totally off balance by giving me a hug. And it’s not the I’ve-got-a- man-but-you-still-my-brother-in-Christ hug, either. She’s smiling and holding me in her sexy gaze. “How was your Christmas, Darrin?”

  “Action-packed but good.” Okay. I need to pull myself together and think of something interesting to say before Oscar jumps out from behind a door somewhere.

  “I’m glad. Mine was good, too. Daddy brought Kumal Jr. to our Christmas dinner.”

  “Are you serious? That’s great! So I guess the test was positive.”

  “I guess so. Daddy said that he did it because of you.”

  “What? I didn’t do anything special.”

  “It was something you said. I just want to thank you.”

  I give Emoni another hug because I want to touch her again. “You’re welcome.”

  She and I both hold on for a second too long. She pulls away first. She’s blushing. This could be a good thing.

  “You coming to Sascha’s wedding?” she asks casually.

  “Didn’t know I was invited.”

  “Silly! The whole church is invited.”

  “Oh. Then sure, I’ll be there.”

  “You got a date?”

  I burst out laughing. “Um … no. Why? Do you have any suggestions?”

  “You could—I mean, we could go together.”

  “What about your man?”

  “Don’t have one.”

  This is awkward. She’s standing here waiting, like she couldn’t care less if I say yes or no. She’s casual and nonchalant, but I’m about to explode. I don’t want to seem too excited. Brotha got to save a little face.

  “Yeah, sure,” I reply. “I guess that would be okay.”

  “Okay, then, I’ll see you there. One o’clock Saturday.”

  “Cool.”

  Emoni sashays off like she knows I’m watching. Like she owns my attention. And she would be … absolutely correct.

  Chapter Forty-three

  Emoni

  It’s the day of the wedding, and I’m excited for my sister. She’s going to be a beautiful bride, pregnant and all. Actually, I think she has that pregnancy glow going on.

  It seems as if there are a thousand people at Freedom of Life, and they’re only the ones setting up for the wedding. The wedding isn’t scheduled to start until one o’clock, and it’s only eight thirty in the morning. The entire bridal party is in the women’s lounge, making final adjustments to their dresses while a hairstylist primps everyone’s ’do to perfection.

  I’ll admit that I have butterflies. Darrin is my date for the evening, and I can’t wait to slow-dance with him at the reception. I’m so looking forward to him holding me in his muscular arms. I don’t care that everyone is going to wonder what happened with Oscar. Let them wonder. I just know that I’m not going to let anything come between me and Darrin this time. Not Oscar, not Darrin’s old girlfriends in Cleveland—nothing.

  Mother sits down next to me on the tiny embroidered lov
e seat. Without a thought, she straightens the velvet throw that covers one side.

  “Mom, why are you always doing that?”

  “Doing what?”

  “Fixing, cleaning, straightening. It’s annoying.”

  Mother folds her arms and looks me up and down. “What is your problem?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Oh, it’s something, because you’re sitting up here talking to me like you forgot that I’m your mother.”

  My tone becomes apologetic. “I’m sorry, Mom. I guess I’m nervous about seeing Darrin again today.”

  “So now it’s back to Darrin? When did this happen?”

  “I don’t know if anything has happened. Darrin and I are going to try and reconnect today.”

  “I’m not surprised about that.”

  “You’re not? I thought everyone expected me to take the safe route and marry Oscar.”

  “I knew you weren’t going to marry him. You’re a daddy’s girl, but your personality is like mine.”

  Um … I’ll listen, but I beg to differ. Mother has a touch of obsessive-compulsive disorder.

  “You be careful, Emoni. Make sure the Lord is leading you on this one.”

  “I will, Mother. Thank you.”

  It’s crazy that I haven’t been praying on any of this. It’s probably why I agreed to date Oscar and had no empathy when Darrin was trying to make things right. I obviously don’t know what I’m doing, not just about men but for my life in general.

  Mother walks away to talk to Sascha, and I bow my head in a silent prayer. Lord, please forgive me for not seeking you in my life. I want to do what you feel is best for me. If Darrin is the man for me, I know you will confirm it in my spirit. If he’s not, then I’m going to trust you enough to send someone who will love me, mind, body, and spirit. Thank you, Lord, for understanding me with all my flaws and loving me in spite of them. I pray for your perfect peace.

  At last, the time has come to start the wedding ceremony. The bridesmaids are scrambling around, trying to find their places in line, and I’m leaning against a wall watching the commotion.

  I hear a knock on the ladies’ lounge door, so I open it. Yippee, it’s Oscar. “Yes?”

  “Is everyone ready? It’s nearly time to start.”