Lady Arykah Reigns

by Nikita Lynnette Nichols

“Absolutely.” Randy folded his arms across his chest.

  “Ask Tamara to meet you at the estate. Make up an excuse that your colleague or one of the baller’s are away on vacation and asked you to check on their house or feed their dog. When she gets there, have a picnic basket on the floor of the living room, filled with all of her favorite foods. The estate has built-in speakers all throughout. So, do it up with jazz music and let candles be the only light in the room. As soon as Tamara walks in the front door, you know what to say, right?”

  Randy smiled and nodded his head. He was impressed. “Welcome home,” he said. “I like that.”

  “It wouldn’t hurt to have a birthday gift as well. A Fendi bag, perhaps?”

  Randy’s eyebrows rose. “The house is Tamara’s gift.”

  “And what a beautiful gift it is, but she needs something to unwrap.”

  Randy chuckled. Arykah was over the top. “How about I hang a bow on the front door?”

  “Make it a big one.”

  “Aw, sooky, sooky now.”

  Myrtle turned from the computer and saw Deacon Bronson Marshall smiling at her. His two front teeth where surrounded in gold. The sparkling metal was a turnoff for her. “Morning, Deacon.”

  “How you be today?”

  Myrtle was about to ask Deacon Marshall how he gained entry into the church but remembered that Lance had told her that all of the deacons were given a set of keys. Myrtle didn’t like the fact that Deacon Marshall was able to walk right up to her. She had no idea he was even in the building.

  “I’m all right, Deacon. You?”

  As soon as she inquired about his well-being, Myrtle wished that she hadn’t. Deacon Marshall liked to talk. Myrtle was the exact opposite. She was still learning her new job and didn’t feel like entertaining the sixty-nine-year-old Southerner.

  “Somebody told me that there was a new pretty thang workin’ at the choch house. I had to come on down here and see for maself, and hot dog, they was right. Myrtle, you sho is a pretty thang.”

  Myrtle looked at the black shirt Deacon Marshall had on. It was the first week in June and eighty-seven degrees outside. Why is he wearing a long sleeve shirt? Myrtle noticed the shirt buttoned all the way to Deacon Marshall’s neck. Ain’t you hot? She moved her eyes down to Deacon Marshall’s wide white belt he wore with light blue polyester pants. She couldn’t see his shoes from where she sat, but had she made a bet that Deacon Marshall completed his ensemble with white patent leather shoes, Myrtle would’ve won. The black shirt, white belt, and light blue pants put a chuckle in her throat.

  “You like what ya see?” he asked when he saw Myrtle eyeing his clothes.

  Are you kiddin’ me? “Um, not so much, Deacon. It’s a bit warm outside for a long sleeve black shirt and polyester pants, don’t you think?”

  He glanced down at his attire, then looked at Myrtle. “Whatcha mean?”

  “I mean it’s too hot to be wearing something like that. Don’t you have any short sleeve cotton shirts? Or pants with a thinner material?” Myrtle felt kind of sorry for Deacon Marshall. He didn’t have a wife to show him how to dress for the seasons or for the current time. The seersucker suits he wore to church on Sunday mornings were shameful and should have been burned four decades ago.

  “I got good ah in ma cah,” he said.

  “That’s good, Deacon,” Myrtle responded. He wasn’t her husband, so she didn’t feel the need to spend another second talking about his wardrobe. “Are you here to see the bishop?”

  “I told you I come to see you.”

  Myrtle’s eyebrows rose. “Me?”

  He smiled at her. The gold in his mouth sparkled.

  “Okay, well, now you see me.”

  “Did you get sumtin’ ta eat?”

  She didn’t understand his question. “Huh?”

  “It’s time to eat. You wanna get some food?”

  Myrtle looked at the digital clock on her desk and saw that it was twelve thirteen. She hadn’t realized that it was noontime already. She wondered why Lance hadn’t mentioned that he was hungry. Myrtle stood from her chair. “Excuse me, Deacon.” She went to Lance’s office door and peeked inside. She saw that he was on a call.

  Lance looked at Myrtle and raised his eyebrows. Myrtle knew that signal was asking her what she wanted. “You want some lunch?”

  He shook his head from side to side. Myrtle nodded her head and went back to her desk and sat down. “Thanks for coming by, Deacon Marshall, but the bishop is pretty busy, and so am I.”

  “You don’t want to grab a bite to eat wit’ meh?”

  Myrtle hoped that Deacon Marshall would get the hint that she didn’t want to be bothered with him. He wasn’t her type, and Myrtle would die if someone recognized her out in public with him dressed like that.

  “I brought a tuna sandwich from home.”

  “Tuna? You can’t eat a tuna sammich on a day lak tuday. The sun is out, and the bards is sangin’. Why don’t you let me take you to a nas restauroont? Anyweyah you wanna go.”

  “Aw, shucks,” Arykah said smiling as she walked up on them. “What’s going on here?” she asked Myrtle and Deacon Marshall. She heard him practically begging Myrtle to go to lunch with him.

  “Hey, there, Lady Eerkah,” he greeted.

  “Good afternoon, Deacon Marshall,” she responded, smiling at them both.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” Myrtle said. She was thankful for the interruption.

  “I’m tryin’ to get this pretty yun thang to go get some lunch wit’ meh.”

  “Really?” Arykah asked. She smiled at Myrtle. “I think that’s a wonderful invitation.”

  Myrtle scowled at her. “I’m not hungry, and I got way too much work to do.” Myrtle prayed Arykah would get her hint and help her out of that situation.

  “Well, you gotta eat sometime,” Arykah said.

  “Yeh, you gotsta eat sumtime,” Deacon Marshall confirmed.

  Myrtle gave Arykah a look to let her know that she was in trouble.

  Arykah chuckled.

  “Look, Deacon,” Myrtle started, “asking me to lunch is nice of you, but this is only my third day on the job. I have a lot of things that I need to figure out, and I really don’t wanna go out for lunch right now.”

  “Then why don’t both of you order some food in?” Arykah suggested.

  Myrtle was so aggravated with Arykah by now that her face started to twitch.

  “Yeh, we can do dat,” Deacon Marshall said.

  “You know what, Deacon? I had forgotten that I was on a diet,” Myrtle said. “So I won’t be eating anything today or tomorrow or the next day.”

  Arykah hollered out.

  “Gal, you ain’t big as nothin’,” Deacon Marshall said to her. “What you talkin’ ’bout you’s on a dat?”

  “It’s the first I’ve heard of it,” Arykah said.

  Myrtle snapped her head at Arykah.

  The look Myrtle gave her was frightening, and she knew that Myrtle was serious. “Oh, yeah, the diet,” Arykah said tapping the side of her head. “I had forgotten that we’re both on diets.”

  Myrtle nodded her head. “That’s right. Sorry, Deacon. I can’t break my diet.”

  “Well, okay,” he said pitifully. “But I ain’t givin’ up on ya, Myrtle.”

  Myrtle faked a smile at him. You may as well.

  Arykah couldn’t resist. “She likes fruit and salads.”

  Myrtle stood from her chair and walked past both of them.

  “Weyah you goin’?” Deacon Marshall asked her.

  “To get a switch.”

  “Uh-oh,” Arykah said to Deacon Marshall. “One of us is in trouble.”

  “Well, I ain’t fixin’ to stick round ’n’ fine out which one.” He immediately left the church.

  Arykah opened the door to her office, entered, and then locked herself inside.

  Five minutes later Myrtle turned her pink key in the lock on Arykah’s door. “You thought you could lock me out?” she asked w
hen she opened the door.

  Arykah sat behind her desk. She laughed out loud when she saw a long skinny twig in Myrtle’s hand. “What are you gonna do with that?”

  Myrtle held up the switch. “I’ma put you over my knee and whack your backside with it if you do that again.”

  “Do what?”

  “You know full well what you did. I ain’t interested in that man whatsoever.”

  “Maybe that’s your problem.”

  Myrtle walked farther into Arykah’s office and put her free hand on her hip. “What are you talking about? I ain’t a got a problem.”

  “You ain’t got a man either,” Arykah said matter-of-factly.

  “And that’s my choice, li’l girl, not that it’s any of your business.”

  Arykah shrugged her shoulders. “Okay. If you like being alone all the time and not having warm arms to hold you at night, then good for you.”

  Myrtle came and stood directly across from Arykah’s desk and looked down at her. “I ain’t one of them women that need a man.”

  “I don’t need a man either,” Arykah retorted. “I don’t need Lance. I can take care of myself. But I sure am glad that I have a husband. It’s a blessing having someone to share my life with. Someone that I know loves me and wants to be with me.”

  “Listen,” Myrtle started, “I’ve been there and done that. I had a husband, and he turned out to be the biggest creep on this earth. I put up with his lying behind for as long as I could. Divorcing him was the best thing for me.”

  Arykah nodded her head. She knew all of the details of Myrtle’s failed marriage. But Myrtle had been single for many years. Every man that smiled her way, she brushed them off. “Every man is not your ex-husband. Deacon Marshall was only inviting you out to lunch. He didn’t ask for your hand in marriage.”

  “Did you see what that fool had on?”

  “Mother Myrtle, you are much too old to be picky.”

  “Humph, when it comes to a man, Honey, I gotta be picky. And I ain’t picking a gold tooth-wearing, musty-smelling man.”

  “Wait a minute now, that ain’t fair,” Arykah said. “You weren’t even close to Deacon Marshall. How do you know he was musty?”

  “Anybody wearing a long sleeve black shirt and polyester pants in June is musty.”

  Arykah hollered out and laughed. “You ain’t right.”

  Lance appeared at Arykah’s office door. “I thought I heard you cackling,” he said to her. “What are you screaming about?”

  “You’re gonna have to lay some hands on this woman, Lance. She just broke Deacon Marshall’s heart.”

  Myrtle turned and walked past Lance and out Arykah’s office. “Ain’t nobody gotta lay hands on me,” she said over her shoulder.

  “The temperature is gonna drop tonight,” Arykah yelled after Myrtle. “Don’t you want some arms wrapped around you to keep you warm?”

  “Not no musty arms,” Myrtle yelled back.

  Lance sat down in a chair opposite of Arykah’s desk. “What is she wound up about?”

  Arykah waved her hand in Myrtle’s direction. “She’s playing hard to get. Deacon Bronson Marshall was just here, and he asked her to go to lunch. She turned him down flat.”

  “Really? I heard her talking to someone. I didn’t know it was Deacon Marshall.”

  “He seems to be really sweet on Myrtle. I felt bad for him. She claims it’s his wardrobe that’s turning her off.”

  Lance laughed. “Myrtle can’t get with the old-man attire?”

  “I got an idea, Babe. Aren’t you playing golf with him tomorrow?”

  “Yeah, we tee off at nine a.m.”

  “How about taking Deacon Marshall on a shopping spree after golf? Pick out some nice shirts, slacks, and shoes that’s up-to-date.”

  Lance thought about it. “I guess I can do that.”

  “The next time he approaches Mother Myrtle, her reaction may be different if he’s dressed appropriately.”

  “Are you trying to make a love connection?”

  She smiled. “Maybe.”

  “How did your closing go this morning?”

  “It was fabulous. I tell you, Randy Brown is a charmer. Any man that buys a house for his wife is all right with me.”

  When Arykah sold Lance his estate, he hadn’t anticipated falling in love with and marrying her. However, God brought them together. Now they shared his home as man and wife, and Arykah wasn’t required to pay one single bill in the home.

  Lance cleared his throat.

  “You’re all right with me too, Bishop.”

  “Listen, I wanna talk to you about something. I saw on the church’s calendar that you’re planning a baby shower for Miranda in two weeks, here at the church.”

  “That’s right,” Arykah said. “She asked me to be the baby’s godmother.”

  “Yes, I know. But Miranda is an unwed single mother, Cheeks.”

  Arykah shrugged her shoulders. She didn’t understand what Lance was getting at.

  “It’s highly inappropriate for the pastor’s wife to throw a baby shower for an unwed mother, especially at the church.”

  Arykah exhaled. “Before I flip out on you, I need to know if you’re seriously saying this to me. Are we really going down this road again, Lance?”

  It wasn’t long ago that Arykah and Lance argued over Miranda’s pregnancy. Mother Pansie had talked Lance into agreeing that Miranda should be dismissed from the young adult choir because she was pregnant. Arykah had to convince Lance that it wasn’t the church’s responsibility to punish unwed mothers. Even though fornication had been committed and a baby was conceived, Miranda was still a child of God and keeping her from singing praises to Him wasn’t Lance’s or Mother Pansie’s decision to make.

  “Cheeks, please try to understand that it doesn’t look good, and it sends the wrong message.”

  “What message does my throwing Miranda a shower, here at the church, send?”

  “Well, first of all,” Lance started, “there are other impressionable girls at Freedom Temple who may look at what you’re doing for Miranda and think it’s okay to get pregnant because the church supports it. It’s like you’re rewarding the sin Miranda committed.”

  Arykah leaned back in her chair and exhaled. “You know, it amazes me how you so easily omit Titus, the young boy Miranda had sex with.”

  “I’m not omitting anyone, Cheeks.”

  “Sure, you are. You just said that I am rewarding Miranda’s sin. And it wasn’t that long ago when you and Mother Pansie took her out of the choir. You didn’t remove her child’s father from the choir. You’re only focusing on Miranda, and that’s not right, Lance.”

  “Because boys are viewed differently.”

  “And why is that? I’ll tell you why. In today’s society, males are considered players if they date numerous women. Men can get a whole bunch of women pregnant, and they just get a pat on the back. But when a woman dates more than one man, she’s called a floozy or a jezebel. And if she ends up pregnant, then she’s shunned or frowned upon.”

  As much as Lance didn’t want to agree with what Arykah had just said, he had to because it was the truth. “Cheeks, I get what you’re saying, but didn’t I get Miranda and put her back in the choir myself?”

  “Only after I threw a fit, Lance.”

  “You throwing a shower for Miranda, at the church, is giving the green light for girls to have sex and get pregnant.”

  “No, it’s not. Don’t put that on me. It’s up to the parents of girls to raise them and teach them right from wrong. That’s not my responsibility.”

  “As the first lady of this church, it’s absolutely your responsibility to steer young girls in the right direction.”

  “Listen, I didn’t get up on Sunday morning and make an announcement to young girls to have sex and get pregnant, then I’ll give them a baby shower. I’m not a fan of adultery or fornication. Gladys is a single mother working two jobs just to support herself and Miranda. Now she has a
grandson coming in three weeks. Miranda isn’t working; she’s in school. I’m just trying to help Gladys as much as I can. The baby will need everything. A crib, diapers, formula, clothes, a changing table, a bassinette, a playpen, bottles, everything. Gladys can’t afford to buy all of that stuff, Lance.”

  “But the godmother can certainly afford them.”

  Arykah cocked her head to the side. “What do you mean?”

  “I’m saying that Miranda doesn’t need for you to throw her a baby shower. Why not just buy the things the boy will need?”

  Arykah thought about it. “I suppose I could do that.”

  “No one will have to know. And I won’t have to worry about sending the message that you and I condone unwed pregnancy.”

  “But folks, and you, need to understand that baby showers are for the baby, not the mother of the baby. Miranda can’t fit in a crib, high chair, or a swing. She doesn’t wear bibs and diapers. Miranda doesn’t suck on bottles. Showers don’t glorify the sin. They are thrown for the support of the baby. Can’t you understand that?”

  Lance didn’t say a word. He believed what he believed.

  Arykah was disappointed that she couldn’t throw Miranda’s baby a party like she wanted. “I was looking forward to a cake, decorations, and all of the bells and whistles.”

  “How about this,” Lance started. “Have your shower for Miranda. But not here at the church.”

  Arykah became excited. “Really? You don’t mind?”

  “I know you love spending money, especially on other folks. And because you are the boy’s godmother, I really think you should do something special for Miranda.”

  Arykah sat up in her chair with more excitement. “I know what to do. I could buy everything on Miranda’s registry and have Team Arykah come to Gladys apartment and watch Miranda open the gifts. I can have my cake, and I could decorate Gladys’s apartment.”

  “See, problem solved,” Lance said. “The baby will have everything he needs, you get to have cake, and the church stays out of it.”

  “How do you feel about Miranda not asking you to be the baby’s godfather?”

  Lance shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t feel any sort of way about it.”

  “Miranda hasn’t said this to me, but I think she feels that you’re disappointed in her for getting pregnant.”