I don’t know what to do next. I need to pray. I need God to speak some confirmation into my spirit about the promises He made to me through his prophetess. This calls for a fast. Yes, I’ll fast. And then God will give me the next action to take.
CHAPTER 22
NYA
My cousin Zenovia and I leave our husbands and their teenage daughter, Jael, at home preparing a November barbecue so that we can have a private talk. We’re near Georgetown, by the water. Zenovia’s hair has grown so much since the last time I saw her. It’s huge and curly, going in whatever direction it pleases, barely restrained by the headband she’s put around the edges. She’s older, but still has that pretty smooth, brown skin.
“It’s been too long since you’ve visited,” Zenovia says.
“Well, you should come on home to Texas every now and then.”
She laughs. “Texas isn’t home to me.”
“You still have a little bit of family left there.”
“I am okay here with my little brood,” Zenovia says. “It’s crazy how much you look like my mom.”
“Aunt Audrey. I’ve seen pictures of her when she was little. She and my mom look alike too.”
“They do. I escaped the red hair and freckles, but my baby didn’t.”
I chuckle. “No, she didn’t. She looks just like your mother.”
“Yeah, well, she more than looks like her.”
My mouth forms a straight line. Aunt Audrey’s mental illness was all Zenovia had to deal with growing up.
“Is she . . . like Aunt Audrey?”
Zenovia clears her throat. “You didn’t grow up knowing my mom, so I don’t know if you realize how bad it was. We left when you were little.”
“I do remember Aunt Audrey vividly though. She used to do this thing with nail polish. Write crosses on the walls with it. I remember once Grandma spanked me because I was helping her do it one time. I didn’t understand.”
“I can’t get an accurate diagnosis because she’s so young, but I have a feeling she is schizophrenic.”
“I’m so sorry. I’ll pray for her healing.”
“Thank you. Anyway . . . enough doom, gloom, and depression. What brings you and Greg to D.C.?”
“I have an opportunity that I wanted to talk to you about. Greg says I should talk to you before I say yes.”
“Okay, now I’m curious. I’ve been following you on the Internet. You’re preaching up a storm these days.”
“Yeah.”
“Don’t sound so excited about it. You really brought it with that ‘suddenly’ thing. Even I was moved.”
I close my eyes and breathe deeply. Zenovia knows. She knows. I can tell.
“I’m surprised you were moved by that.”
“Why? Because you faked that prophetic word?”
She’s always been blunt like that. I think that came from taking care of a schizophrenic mother. She never had time to mince words.
“How did you know?”
She shrugs. “I just do. You know how we know stuff. We can’t explain it, but we know.”
“So why were you moved by it, then? If you knew it was fake?”
“I knew it wasn’t a prophecy, but it was still a very powerful word that you spoke over that woman’s life. God does bless people suddenly sometimes. I hope it came to pass for that girl.”
“Me too.”
“So what’s the opportunity?”
“Lady Sandy got a book deal and wants it to be a compilation of women’s altar-call experiences. I wanted to talk about how my mom, Aunt Audrey, and I were all the product of rape, and how that shaped my walk with Christ.”
“My mother was the product of rape? Why am I just now learning this? Was . . . was I? Is that why I don’t know my father?”
I shake my head. “From what I gather, your mother had a boyfriend that she wanted to run away with, and our grandfather ran him off when she got pregnant.”
“Who was the rapist?”
“A man Grandfather worked for.”
Zenovia’s face scrunches into a frown. “So you’re saying he raped three women in our family? How did that happen? I mean, how did the same man keep raping our family?”
“Zee. He was white. Klan.”
“What happened to him?”
“He disappeared. But they say that the prophetic gift is in his family.”
“Wow,” Zenovia says. “He just disappeared?”
“The rumor is that he was killed, by a woman. But I don’t know. Grandmother kept me away from it all. You should be glad Aunt Audrey ran away with you.”
“Sometimes I am. But I missed out on growing up with cousins, grandparents, and everyone else. My mother and I were alone. And it was very lonely living with her.”
I can’t imagine what it was like living with Aunt Audrey, and I wish that I had grown up with Zenovia too. It would’ve been nice having someone my age who understood what I am, because she has the same gift.
“It sounds like you have your own testimony,” I tell her.
“I do. In the midst of all the crazy that was my life, I made it through.”
“Isn’t that the truth? So, you’re cool with me being a part of the book project?” I ask.
“It’s your story to tell, but if you want my blessing, you’ve got it.”
“I’m so glad. I knew you would be okay with it, but Greg insisted that I talk to you.”
“It’s good that you listen to him. I share everything with Justin, even if I think he’s going to say the complete opposite.”
“Greg has definitely been opposites with me lately.”
“Nya, you know I always keep it real . . .”
My laughter comes out before my words. “What?”
“No, I’m about to say something serious. I need you to listen.”
Her tone is immediately sobering. “Did you . . . did you have a vision about me?”
“No. This is just some advice for you. Be careful with the prophetic gift. People will start to want the gift and not God. If the gift doesn’t glorify Him, then what is it for?”
“Is that why you don’t do speaking engagements, and travel and all of that? I’m sure you’ve been invited.”
“I have. I go where God tells me to go. Right now, He has me preaching in our local assembly, when our pastor calls on me. And I am fine with that.”
“Do you think I’m wrong for accepting these opportunities? Be honest.”
“I don’t know. It’s not my place to say. That’s between you and God. I just want you to be mindful of how you treat the gift. Respect it.”
“I do.”
“Then don’t give false prophecies, Nya.”
I shake my head. “No no. I’m never doing that again. I pray God forgives me for the first time.”
“Me too, Cousin. Me too.”
It’s almost as if she seems uncertain about God’s forgiveness in this, but we both know that He forgives. It’s just that even with forgiveness come consequences.
CHAPTER 23
FELICIA
Sharon bursts into my office without knocking, and I scramble to put a positive expression on my face. I’ve been crying or on the verge of tears for days. I can’t seem to pray my way out of this mess.
I’ve sent Lance about a hundred texts, called him about five hundred times, but he won’t respond to me.
His wife keeps posting things on Instagram—hints that they have big news to share. I hope that it’s Lance being sold to another team, across the country. Europe even. I don’t want to see his face or hear his name being said by someone else.
And as angry as I am, I can’t help but feel broken. But I didn’t want anyone to see this, least of all Sharon. She thinks I don’t know it, but she’s the main conduit for gossip in and out of this office. I’ve caught snatches of her telephone conversations, and she always has something to say about someone.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I should’ve knocked,” Sharon says.
“You should’v
e.”
Sharon walks over and sets a cup of tea down on my desk. “Are you all right, Felicia?”
“I will be.”
She clears her throat. “So, I noticed Lance hasn’t visited you lately.”
I glare at her. “Don’t do that, Sharon. Lance is one of the players, I help him with his organization. That’s all.”
“I know, I know. I just thought I should tell you that one of the player’s wives mentioned to Mr. Bailey’s wife that she thought something was going on between you and Lance.”
“What?”
“Yes, and I’ve seen you crying . . . I know I shouldn’t pry . . .”
“You shouldn’t.”
“But the last girl Lance stepped out on his wife with, he had to give her a huge cash settlement to keep quiet. I know, because the deal went down right in this office.”
Now she’s got my attention.
“Why did he have to give her a settlement?”
Sharon places a hand on her chest. “Please, Felicia, if I tell you, you can’t tell anybody. I could lose my job for telling you, and you know how hard it was for me to get this job. I have felonies.”
I shake my head back and forth, and motion for her to sit. “I would never betray you.”
Sharon sits and looks me dead in the face. “I wouldn’t be telling you this if I didn’t think Lance was trying to run game on you too.”
“I am not confirming or denying that there is anything going on with me and Lance, but please do tell.”
“That last girl, her name was Nyoka. She got pregnant by Lance.”
My mouth forms a tiny circle. “Pregnant?”
“Mm-hmm. He told her he was going to leave his wife.”
“But he didn’t.”
“Naw, he didn’t.”
“That’s pretty despicable.”
“That ain’t the worst part though. She sued him because he had some shady doctor talk her into having an abortion, told her the baby had some kind of brain disease. Come to find out wasn’t nothing wrong with the baby at all.”
It takes every shred of control I have not to let Sharon see me fall apart. She cannot see me fall apart.
“How much did he have to pay her?”
“I’m not sure, but she had her own doctor that she was going to and had proof that her baby was healthy.”
“Well, that’s a pretty juicy story, Sharon. Thank you for looking out for me. Fortunately, I don’t have a similar story.”
“Okay, well, if you ever need to know anything about any of these players, let me know. I got you.”
I pick up the cup of tea and take a sip. “We got each other.”
“I’ll leave you to your work now. Holla at me if you want to get some lunch or something,” Sharon says.
Out of frustration, I call Lance. I don’t expect him to answer the phone, but he does.
“Hello.” His punctuation is a sigh, as if hearing from me immediately stresses him out.
“I was wondering if you want to get lunch today.”
A long pause. Too long.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Felicia. Let’s just pause for a while and see what happens.”
Something in his voice makes me feel like this is a brush-off. It makes me feel like I have exactly the same story as the girl Sharon just told me about. Same plays, different players.
“How’d you know about Dr. Tomlinson, Lance? How’d you know he would be discreet?”
“Come on, Felicia. Guys talk. He’s kind of an urban legend. He’s been there for a lot of the players who get themselves in a bind.”
“Is there a reason that he has more abortion procedures clocked than any other doctor in Atlanta?”
Of course, I have no clue if this is fact or fiction. I just want to see what Lance will say to that.
“Who told you that?”
“Really, Lance? These things are a matter of public record.”
“I thought doctors had to have confidentiality.”
“That’s true. The stats don’t show who he performed abortions on, just that he did them.”
“Oh, okay.” Lance sounds incredibly relieved.
“Do you know why he’s done so many pregnancy terminations?”
“Probably because most mistresses and side pieces don’t really want to be baby mamas.”
“They’d just rather have a check, right?” I ask.
Lance is eerily silent. I wonder if he’s choosing his words carefully. I bet he’s worried right now, and trying to guess what I know.
“No . . . I don’t think they want a check. I think most of them want to continue being with the guy they care about without having a child to complicate things.”
“That’s an interesting assessment,” I say.
“You disagree?”
Now I give him the long pause so he can wonder what I’m thinking.
Finally I say, “I would rather have a child with the man I love. I wouldn’t want a check, and I wouldn’t think that a baby would complicate things unless he didn’t love me.”
“Well, then you should think long and hard about pursuing a relationship with a man who’s already married.”
No. He. Didn’t.
I disconnect the call and sit staring at the phone in disbelief. Did he just really act like I pursued a relationship all by myself? I wasn’t flying him to Puerto Rico, it was the other way around.
Now I feel that maybe I am just like the woman Lance and Dr. Tomlinson duped before, but I won’t be like her at all. I’m going to call them out and make them pay with more than money. Starting with the good doctor.
CHAPTER 24
NYA
Today is the first day of Suddenly Blessed—the talk show. Our first guest is a woman named Bonita, who left an abusive marriage and is afraid to start dating again. The first segment of the show is me ministering to her and encouraging her. The second half of the show is something like The Dating Game, but hosted by Penelope. Bonita is going to ask bachelors questions, and they will answer them, but from behind a screen.
We’re both in hair and makeup, and even though Tina is here with me, I am incredibly nervous. This isn’t preaching. This is TV. This is scripted. No waiting for the Holy Ghost to show up here.
“Do you think I’ll be okay?” I ask Tina as she paints on my eyebrows with a pencil. “What if I’m not entertaining?”
“You are entertaining me right now with this foolishness. Of course you’re going to be great,” Tina says. “You’re perfect for this.”
“I’m the one who should worry,” Penelope says. “I’m riding your coattails. You already brought the substance with your message. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to bring to this.”
“You’re bringing us, Gospel diva,” Monet Barnes, the executive producer, says as she walks into the room. “That’s why you’re here, honey. Just be yourself.”
“Since myself is all I have, that shouldn’t be a problem,” Penelope says.
Monet touches my dress, still hanging next to the makeup stand and nods her approval. She gives Penelope a big smile when she sees her designer shoes.
“You two look incredible,” Monet says. “This is going to be an awesome debut.”
I say a prayer to calm my nerves, and then sip my coffee to make sure I have the energy I need. My phone buzzes in my lap, and it’s a text from Greg.
Praying for you, babe. You’re gonna be awesome.
Thank you, Jesus, my husband has my back. I mean, I know that he does, but I also know that he could do without all of it. I thank God that he’s allowing me to spread my wings without holding me back.
This text message from Greg calms me just as much as my prayer, and gives me hope that we will survive this challenge and go to the next level in God and in our careers.
Penelope and I are led out onto the set by two production assistants. We take our places in the chairs for our first segment, which is a conversation between the two of us. It’s scripted and there are cue car
ds, but I memorized my lines. I don’t want to look crazy on TV.
The producer gives me the cue to start, so I put a huge smile on my face. I hope it looks genuine and not like a TV smile. “Hi! I’m Nya Hempstead, this is my cohost, Penelope Bowens, and you’re tuned into Suddenly Blessed!”
“So today we’re talking about landing the first date,” Penelope says. “I know you’ve been married fifteen years, so you probably don’t remember your first date with Greg.”
“I do remember. We were in college, and it was a church conference.”
“That’s romantic,” gushes Penelope.
“And cheap. Did I mention we were in college? My husband was broke.”
The studio audience roars with laughter and I feel myself relax. Maybe I’ll actually be good at this.
Our guest is a thirty-something woman named Bonita. She’s pretty but doesn’t have enough flair. She’s educated but shy. We’ve got our job cut out in landing her a date with anybody, much less Prince Charming.
“So, what have been your experiences with first dates?” I ask Bonita while Penelope sets things up with the glam squad.
“I don’t know how much I should share. Like, I want to tell them everything. That I want three children, and a house and a dog. Is that too much?”
The studio audience laughs again as I shake my head. “Maybe for the first date. Why do you think you’re in such a hurry to talk about this stuff?”
“I guess I feel like I’m in a race against time and the other women. There are so many options for men that I just don’t think I will be anyone’s choice.”
Now, on cue, the audience makes a sad noise. I guess it is pretty pitiful that she doesn’t think anyone will choose her.
“Well, Bonita, first of all, I need you to believe God is going to send your Boaz. Do you know who Boaz is?”
“Umm . . .”
“He was a man who married a widowed woman in the Bible. She had lost everything and he became the provider that she needed.”
“I don’t need a provider. I have a great career,” Bonita says.
“That’s great, but you need something, and God knows. He’s going to send the one you need.”
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