Sinful Too

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Sinful Too Page 14

by Victor McGlothin


  What a gift, Dior thought, clapping excitedly.

  “What a mess,” Nadeen said under her breath.

  Strangely enough, they were both right. Richard had undoubtedly utilized his talents to help restore faith to many enduring tumultuous times. On the other hand, he boldly directed his life toward disaster. Assisting others to find peace in the midst of prickly predicaments was one thing. Locating some of it for himself wouldn’t be nearly so easy to orchestrate.

  After the church service ended, Nadeen played the minister’s wife although her heart wasn’t in it. She assumed others had witnessed what she did: the cute little pink thing openly flirting with the pastor. It was difficult to imagine otherwise. Her ego had taken such a beating. She excused herself, then shot off like a rocket toward the pastor’s chambers. Nadeen was fuming, pacing back and forth in Richard’s office. She couldn’t wait to question him about his viperous visitor and whether she was the inspiration for his drawer full of new underwear, the hours he reported having been at the fitness center, and a host of disappearing acts. She also questioned the discussion turned debate from earlier that day when Richard reacted like a defiant toddler. He pouted and hissed after Nadeen laid out a collection of the red neckties, which had traditionally been his preference for previous pastor’s day services. His adamant determination to wear pink annoyed her then but now she was infuriated. How could I have been so stupid? she thought. Richard said he wanted to step out of the box he’s been living in. Had me listening to all of that nonsense about it taking a real man to wear pink. He must think new kinds of fools are born every day. Wait until I see him. Just wait.

  Nadeen waited in Richard’s chambers for as long as she could stand to. When he didn’t show up, she set out looking for him. Zooming past members without batting an eye or raising her voice to acknowledge them, Nadeen trekked down the sidewalk from the business offices to the main auditorium entrance. She had blinders on until something caught her eye. She recognized a pink dress and wide-brimmed hat heading her way. Disregarding the horde of people milling about, Nadeen guarded the pathway with her arms folded. As Dior drew closer, Nadeen began tapping the toe of her shoe against the cement. Dior stopped less than three feet from the woman blocking her way. “I don’t think we’ve had the chance to meet,” said Nadeen, definitive and daring.

  “I know for a fact we haven’t,” answered Dior in the same tone she’d received. “I surely would have remembered you.”

  “Then let me make it plain. I’m Mrs. Richard Allamay.”

  That’s a silly name for a girl, Dior wanted to say. “Okay, is that supposed to mean something to me?”

  “Look, little girl. I don’t know who you think you are,” Nadeen challenged, unaware of Dior’s street pedigree.

  “Ma’am, I haven’t been any kind of girl for a long while now. And as for who I am, you’d have to ask Mr. Richard Allamay where I fit in with him. And a word to the wise: You might want to get your business straight before stepping to me again.”

  “Just in case you don’t know, the pastor of this church is married, happily married, with two adorable daughters. You’re not welcome to come back here.”

  Dior tilted her head to shield her eyes from the midday sun. She wanted to see Nadeen’s face when it cracked. “I came here to worship, not be driven out by some insecure female with her butt on her shoulders. I thought Christians were supposed to invite people into God’s house?” Dior asked with a questioning expression that ruffled her adversary. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those fake-baked ones pretending to be a holy roller?”

  Utterly appalled by what she viewed as disrespect, Nadeen looked around to see if anyone heard Dior’s verbal assault. “I’m as real as my wedding vows. Maybe we should get Richard out here and see if that wipes the cheesy little smirk off your face.”

  “I don’t answer to you or him, lady, and unless you got something real to get off your chest, best move to the left.” Nadeen observed passersby taking notice. She relaxed her stance then eased over slightly so Dior could squeak by without creating an outright incident. They parted ways, both upset at how the introduction played out.

  A month ago, Nadeen would have thought it was inconceivable that a woman would stand up to her when confronted about moving in on her husband. Meeting Dior was extremely unsettling. Richard had a lot of explaining to do.

  After Nadeen caught her breath, she stomped into the office building wearing a plastic grin to hide her real emotions while aggravated beneath it. When she rounded the corner past the third-floor elevator, Richard’s voice poured out of his open office. Nadeen flew in with both barrels blazing. “What do you think you’re doing? Huh? I talked to your lady friend, that pink thing, who just had to sit down front. Yeah, I saw the looks between y’all. Now you’re going to tell me what all of that is supposed to be about.” Richard glared at his wife for raising her voice at him when others could have easily overheard her rants. Calmly, he collected his keys and wallet from the desk drawer.

  “Mahalia, Roxy, I need to talk to your mother,” he said with a manufactured smile on his face. “Why don’t y’all meet us downstairs by the car in a few minutes.” Nadeen was so full of fury she didn’t see her own daughters standing between her husband and her wrath. Both girls quickly exited the office as instructed. Nadeen slammed the door so hard the walls shook.

  “I hope you’re proud of yourself,” she spat. “It takes real nerve flaunting your backdoor woman around your wife and friends, Richard.”

  “Watch your mouth, Nadeen!” he shouted with measured restraint. “You’re in the Lord’s house.”

  “You cannot expect me to stand here and listen to you lecture me about respecting the Lord’s house after half the church is probably wondering the same thing I am.”

  Richard sat on the corner of his desk with both arms folded across his chest. “Ahh-hhh. I’m not concerned with what’s on the minds of half the church, but I would like to know what’s got you acting like this at my office and in front of our children.”

  Nadeen stared him down. She was highly upset that he would even try and flip the script so easily. “That’s just like you, Richard, massaging the issue until it benefits you. Not this time. I know what I saw and it sickened me. The woman all but confirmed what’s going on but I want to hear it from you. No lies and no double-talk. Just shoot it to me straight up so I’ll know what to tell the divorce attorney.”

  Richard shrugged his shoulders, stared at his wife of eighteen years, then offered her the truth, his truth. Richard wasn’t stupid. On the contrary, he was treacherous. He was lucky enough to catch the interaction between Nadeen and Dior from his office window. Although he couldn’t hear a word of it, their body language told him everything he needed to call the outcome correctly. He could tell that Nadeen approached Dior on a fact finding mission. Dior confirmed that she knew him but under what circumstances was still unclear. She must have said something to send Nadeen reeling because she threw her hands on her hips to protest it. When they didn’t come to blows, Richard was sure that Dior held her own while getting a few digs in somehow, leaving Nadeen with a bad taste in her mouth and a full quill of ruffled feathers. “I’m almost afraid to ask how badly you embarrassed me, yourself, and the church, for that matter.”

  “See, there you go,” Nadeen hissed. “Negro, please. Unless you’re coming clean, you can save all that for somebody who hasn’t been sleeping by herself and waiting up for you to find your way home.”

  “I’m sorry to disappoint you but one thing has nothing to do with the other, Nadeen,” Richard said casually. “Dior is a lost lamb. She sold me this suit and threw in this necktie. I’ve seen her do a lot more for other customers. That’s right, you just insulted a harmless salesperson who said almost a month ago, ‘I don’t do church.’ Thanks to you, she may never do church again. I did what I was supposed to. I got her here and was really looking forward to introducing the two of you,” he lied to save face. “She could use a seasoned me
ntor to help get her feet wet in the Lord. However, based on your actions, I wouldn’t blame her for running in the other direction and never thinking of reentering another church of any kind. Look, you need to take your sneaky suspicions and that un-Christian attitude to God and seek forgiveness for what you’ve done. I’m through.” He breathed a long labored breath then stood up. Nadeen replayed her conversation with Dior, thought on it some more, then wiped a tear from her eye.

  “I’m alright with God, Richard. I’m not alright with you though, nor with how that woman’s presence and brazen carrying-on made me feel. She’s got designs on you. I saw those looks. I recognize it when hoochies and groupies undress my man in front of my eyes. She couldn’t take hers off you.”

  “You mean, she couldn’t take her eyes off my suit,” Richard asserted. “I made a deal with Dior when she sold it to me. You probably didn’t even notice the monogram on the sleeve.” He held it out so Nadeen would feel even more foolish by the time he finished spinning his deceitful web. “I promised her that if she came to M.E.G.A. as my guest, I’d wear this ridiculous pink tie on pastor’s day. I didn’t think she’d hold up her end of the deal. And yes, I was proud when she did. I always said the journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. Today, that young lady made perhaps the biggest one of her life toward salvation. Hopefully, it didn’t result in two steps backward.” When Nadeen’s eyes fell toward the floor, Richard knew he’d done another masterful job of adequately clouding the issue. Nadeen didn’t know what to believe, so Richard tipped the scale in his favor by using her words against her. “Oh yeah, I’d love to hear how Dior all but confirmed what you thought you saw happening between us?”

  “I told her who I was and asked the same of her. She said to ask Mr. Richard Allamay where she fits in,” Nadeen said reluctantly, as a sinking feeling came over her.

  “She used to fit me for suits, although that might not be the case any longer,” he said in passing. “Come on, ain’t nothing we can do about it before the Lord does so let’s get some lunch.” When he opened the door, Roxy and Mahalia quickly leaned against the opposite wall. They had undoubtedly heard a great deal of the conversation. Richard didn’t feel the need to address their wandering eyes and itching ears, so he grabbed his eldest by the hand and quietly started for the elevator.

  Nadeen was torn asunder, not sure if she’d done the right thing by confronting a person who appeared to be a very dangerous wolf marking the shepherd’s moves. Then the thought of potentially committing the unthinkable sin of chasing a lost soul from the church door made her head hurt. Richard’s explanation sounded plausible, but she couldn’t completely take his word for it. Confused and darn near cross-eyed, Nadeen decided to put her feelings on hold until she could firm up her suspicions or cast them away altogether. Despite how mixed up she felt, Roxanne’s snaggletoothed smile helped ease the strain, until the child’s inquisition began.

  “Mommy, why are you and Daddy fighting over that pretty lady in the pink dress?”

  “We aren’t fighting, baby, and that lady isn’t so pretty,” Nadeen sniped irritably.

  “She looked like a movie star to me,” argued Roxanne. “I heard so many people fussing over how pretty she was and how her face looked painted on.”

  Her makeup and tight dress were painted on, Nadeen thought to herself. “People are sometimes excited to see a new face. It happens all the time, even at the zoo.”

  Roxanne missed the boulder her mother threw at Dior’s head. She didn’t miss the opportunity to share what she’d heard earlier. “Mommy, what’s a stank-butt gold digger?”

  “Nothing, Roxy,” Nadeen answered firmly, guessing what other terrible things were said about Dior. “I thought I talked to you about not repeating what you heard said about others. It’s not nice.”

  “I just thought it sounded funny,” Roxanne countered. “Herman was telling everybody his daddy called that pretty — uh, not so pretty — lady lots of names. Some of them didn’t make me laugh, though.” Nadeen began to feel sorry for attacking Dior without knowing all the details. Perhaps it was Richard’s prior actions that put her on edge, on the offensive, and ready to pounce. She was reminded that a minister’s wife should act considerably kinder toward visitors than Herman’s foul-mouthed daddy. Nadeen stepped off the elevator unsettled, but she couldn’t find an ounce of regret in her heart for protecting what was still hers, as far as she knew.

  Seventeen

  Too Many Husbands

  All afternoon, Nadeen followed Richard around the house with her eyes. She tracked him into the bedroom, counted his steps into the kitchen, and later stared him down when he said he was leaving early for evening service. If it hadn’t been for Roxanne’s sudden stomachache, Nadeen would have grabbed her shoes and followed him out of the house. Mahalia was old enough to look after her younger sister, but it bordered on psychotic behavior trying to keep Richard under constant surveillance. After the heated discussion they had in his private chambers, he would have been brain-dead to do anything remotely ominous, which would potentially spark another venom-laced attack, whether it was warranted or not. Nadeen felt justified when she watched him walk out the door without his typical confident stride. She breathed a labored sigh of relief, feeling she had put him in check but good.

  Over the next hour, Nadeen read bedtime stories to Roxanne while checking her temperature intermittently. The child couldn’t understand why her mother chose nighttime reading material when the sun hadn’t gone off to bed yet. Although it was merely wishful thinking on Nadeen’s part, the precocious eight-year-old fought off her trip to dreamland as best she could, playing the sickly patient to the hilt all the while. Roxanne asked for ice cream to soothe her sore throat, then she pleaded pitifully for chicken soup to take the chill away. Nadeen met each request with a motherly there-there followed by a heaping dose of love. She’d all but forgotten about Richard and that “treacherous thing” dressed in pink who disrupted morning worship and caused her to repent for the terrible mischief she imagined having gone on behind her back. When Nadeen investigated the reason why Mahalia had been cooped up in her room for hours, behind closed doors, she realized how derelict in her duty she was regarding her oldest daughter.

  Down the hall from Roxanne’s room, Mahalia lay sprawled across her bed as well, only she hadn’t spent most of the day demanding her mother’s time and attention. Mahalia took full advantage by burning up the second phone line she convinced her parents was necessary and well deserved for being a good student and a part-time babysitter. Reluctantly, Richard caved in to Mahalia’s constant petitions. Nadeen however, was not fond of the idea from the very beginning nor had she softened her stance in the two months since her husband buckled. She held legitimate concerns about the intimate conversations very likely finding their way to Mahalia’s private line.

  Nadeen tiptoed up to the bedroom door quietly. She leaned in, carefully placing her ear against it. Stifled by muffled sounds, Nadeen had a difficult decision to make. Spying on Mahalia wasn’t the coolest mother move, but she felt compelled to keep tabs on her daughter, who now had budding breasts and a swelling interest in mannish, smooth-talking boys. With that in mind, Nadeen squeezed the doorknob gently. She turned the handle and held her breath. As she pushed it ever so slightly, Mahalia’s words became clearer. “Yeah, girl, I’m telling you. All Dwayne wanted to do was get his dirty fingers in my panties. No, I didn’t want him to . . . until he washed his nasty hands.”

  After hearing her child’s recognition and admittance to participating in a sexual act, Nadeen gasped. Her knees trembled and her fingers tingled. She wanted to barge in, rip the phone from Mahalia’s hot little hands, and commence running a bar of soap through her filthy mouth. Nadeen felt her chest heave in and out. Where was Richard at a time like this? she wondered. He wouldn’t be able to shrug off this incident as if it hadn’t changed everything about their relationship. Nadeen was a breath away from busting through that door on a mad tear but somethi
ng stopped her. She heard further appalling language spewing from her daughter’s lips.

  “I don’t know, Trevy, they say you can’t get pregnant if you’re on top, so next time Dwayne can get some without the condom as long as I ride. I’ll tell him that he can bring his big brother, who’s home from college too. I hope he can show me some new moves. Girl, yeah, I’m ready for a threesome. I can handle it.”

  Nadeen couldn’t hold her place or her tongue any longer. She ripped through the door, tortured. Her daughter sat casually at her desk, seemingly unaffected by her mother’s sudden appearance. “Mahalia! Hang up that phone!” screamed Nadeen, loud enough to peel paint off the walls.

  Mahalia rolled her eyes. “I have to go, Trevy. Told you my mama was at the door,” she said knowingly. “Yeah, she knows I was playing.” Mahalia tossed the telephone onto the light-colored desk, next to her personal computer.

 

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