“C’mon, Pill,” he called after her, searching for his discarded clothes and undergarments scattered on the floor so that he could start to put them on.
How can she be offended by what I said? Can’t a brother bask in the afterglow? he thought.
He was hopeful when he saw her return. She carried her purse and the bag left on the steps that she placed inside the closet before approaching the bed.
“Since we can’t live in the moment and you are already two weeks down the road, here,” Pill said.
Before he could wonder why she was throwing out these unfounded arguments, he literally was trying to figure out what she was throwing at him. He realized it was money and the budget billfold.
Pill sighed loudly. “Here is all the money I made this weekend.”
Sex, money, the whole scene felt elicit and entirely opposite of the generosity they had laid down to each other just an hour ago.
“Wait, baby, you misunderstood me if you think I’m sittin’ here trippin’ over the budget and bills right now,” Corey said, hoisting his pants over his boxers before sliding down to the edge of the bed to get closer to her.
He looked her up and down from the sheet she had gathered around her to her usually tight hairstyle that was jettisoned in different directions from the afternoon’s passion. Why were they even talking when they had all the time and obviously enough energy to make love again? he thought. He wanted to be King Kong again and carry her back to a place where petty arguments were forgotten.
“Carmen wants all of us to compete in a hair show in D.C. in two weeks. I need hotel and travel expenses.” Pill’s eyes stayed glued to the money like a true Indian giver ready to take it all back.
So this is what sent her into flip mode. This was the whammy. They were very much on to the next thing, but he wasn’t sure he initiated it. He wondered if this was what was behind the cutlets and the haircut. Spam.
“How much?” Corey asked.
He saw the emergence of the she-cat. “It’s not like I have to ask for permission.”
“So what are you doing?” Corey asked, exasperated.
“It’s for my job, Corey. I can’t not go if Carmen needs me to style. I just don’t want you to be trippin’ when I spend a little money.”
Which they both knew would be a lot of money in the end.
He thought about what she said, and what she needed, and what he needed. To think he thought their relationship would change with that one solitary act. Finally, he remembered his nose wasn’t clean anymore, and that he had to make it right.
“That’s cool. We’ll budget so you can go, but no ifs, ands, or buts. I’m making the next available appointment with First Lady Rawls. We’ve got issues.”
Chapter 19
Their first session with the first lady was scheduled quickly the following Monday morning. Corey figured Pill must have thought she was visiting the Queen of England or something by the amount of times she changed her clothes before deciding on a deep marooncolored shirt dress, textured tights, and Mary Janestyled pumps. That put him in a quandary as to what to put on. She had insisted he wear at least a button-up shirt and blazer over his jeans. That was the most she had to say to him in days. He was grateful for the peace. He figured with the anticipation of their first session that they both needed to reserve their comments until now.
The first lady wore a welcoming smile and a casual safari-green two-piece pantsuit with taupe pumps. Corey mostly saw her from the elevated distance of the pulpit. She was quite tall with or without the pumps on the ground level.
She met them at the door and made sure they were comfortable on the overstuffed love seat across from her desk. This was not a couch for estranged or indifferent couples. As much as they tried to stay on their own lush leather cushion, their hips kept meeting in the center like opposite sides of a magnet. They either sat cuddled up or fought to stay on their opposite sides.
The room had a classic and clean feel to it with light beige walls and a heavy dark wood desk and shelving. It was more like a den or family room. All that was missing was a fireplace.
“When a recommendation crosses my desk like the one Deacon Tripp wrote for the two of you, I begin to look for the couple at church. I put faces with names and pray before you even set foot in my office,” First Lady Rawls started as she stood over them. “With over a thousand members now, you all stuck out to me for some reason. I knew who you were immediately. Maybe it was the Burberry bag girlfriend is working right now. I will always remember a fly accessory ’cause I got the matching—”
“Pumps, I know. I could only afford the weekend bag at the time. I went back but never could get the shoes in my size,” Pill said, scooting to the edge.
“It’s one or the other, girl. I figure I’m not paid to model the whole line. Plus, it’s overdone to sport two pieces in such a bold and distinctive checked design.”
“Yeah, less is more,” Pill agreed.
They slapped a high five, then held on to each other’s hand and pulsed back and forward as they laughed.
Corey caught his wife’s hidden pun. Pastor Rawls had preached last Sunday under the same sermon topic. It was about the Prodigal Son, and the parable of the shepherd leaving an entire flock of sheep to reclaim the one. Corey was sure his pastor didn’t know it had shopping implications.
He was starting to think First Lady wasn’t the most ideal choice in helping them solve their issues. He began to look for her credentials that made her an expert in something else other than fashion.
First Lady must have followed his gaze to her elaborately decorated side wall bearing her degrees, because she went over to pose by a wall like a tour guide in a museum. Photos and certificates hung on the wall like a pyramid. At the base were three degrees from various institutions. Above that were two framed photographs, one of their pastor and another of Pastor and First Lady’s son. At the very top was the classic crucifix.
“This wall puts my priorities in perspective for me. I majored in psychology in undergrad. I liked to think I had what it took. I was social, analytical, and loved to help people with their problems. This was before I was married and even before I gave God complete rule over my life. Don’t get me wrong. I still believe in many of the behavioral theories that I studied, but I went on to get certification in Christian counseling to give my practice parameters. So this is not just the duties the pastor has given his wife to do in her free time within his ministry. This is my purpose,” she said with a sassy snap of her fingers. “But my husband and my child are my assignments. They come first.”
Corey and Pill nodded their heads with satisfaction that they were in good hands. First Lady Rawls walked in front of them and perched herself on the front of her desk. She stared down at them as if to ask, well? Pill watched her every move. Corey didn’t think he’d ever seen his wife in such awe of someone before. When they didn’t speak, she stood up again. Corey thought she was going behind her desk, but instead, she walked behind them.
“How long is each session?” Corey asked, looking at his watch out of nervousness. He did have to go into work later.
“Let me guess. You’re a facts-and-stats kind of guy. Good, you’ll keep us on track then. I must tell you, though, I don’t operate in blocks of time but by the move of the Holy Spirit. Pat Rawls can’t heal your relationship. It’s the Spirit of the Lord that can. Pat Rawls can usher you into the Spirit, but I know my place and don’t overstep my bounds. I pray for a personal epiphany with each session. Then I send you home to marinate in the truth.”
Corey wondered if she could afforded the kind of time it would surely take for him and Pill to reach an epiphany. He also marinated in the thought that he would more than likely be late to work. He didn’t realize how close First Lady Rawls was to them until she draped her arm around them from behind.
“Cute, cute couple. You look like you should be together. But as adorable as I think you are, I am upset with the two of you. Six months in, no one should h
ave to tell you to love on one another and keep it moving. Now, I have to take time out of my schedule to tell you that?”
If he was not mistaken, the matriarch of the church gave him a discreet pop upside his head. He leaned in slightly and looked over his shoulder to see if he was mistaken. Pill sat oblivious, obviously escaping the disciplinary tap.
First Lady smirked. “Do you pray?”
“Huh?” Corey said in response, still taken aback.
“Pray, dear hearts, as in for each other, for your marriage?” She answered him, but looked at Pill who was posed and pondering the question. He knew what First Lady was aiming for and instinctively pulled Pill to him in defense of her meticulously manicured head.
“We pray, we pray,” Corey quickly answered.
Pill looked at him like he had lost his mind, but the first lady laughed and gave him the thumbs-up. He released his ungrateful wife who squirmed to the other side of her cushion while keeping his eye on First Lady Rawls.
“You took too long to answer, Mr. and Mrs. Taylor. Tell me you aren’t the type of Christians that accept every device the devil comes up with to destroy what God has given you by not protecting yourselves with prayer. And I’m going to be spending my time on my knees praying for a couple who isn’t praying for themselves?”
Now she whomped Corey hard on the head. This time Pill saw the lick and laughed, not knowing he had just saved her from the same fate. She covered her mouth with her hands as if to conceal the betrayal.
“How’s your sex life?” the first lady relentlessly rattled off.
That question caught both of them off guard, and they squirmed a bit as if righting themselves on the sofa. Corey wondered how many more questions she had for them and if it wouldn’t have been easier for them to fill out a precounseling questionnaire. Still perturbed at Pill, he pointed to her as the best candidate to answer that question.
“Ms. Thang, how’s your sex life?” First Lady asked pointedly, crisscrossing back in front of them.
Whomp came the blow straight down on top of her head before Pill could answer.
“Aw, seriously?” Pill grabbed her head. Immediately, she began to fluff up the top of her mane with her hands. She looked as if she was ready to leave. This time Corey concealed a chuckle.
“Just know, my darlings, the time I spend in here with you I could be making love to my own husband. This is what I am talking about. You’re both selfish and stubborn; I can tell you that now. But I am here to serve it right back. Tough love. So spill it. What’s the matter? What do you have to tell me?”
Corey wondered if those questions were rhetorical. They didn’t know the answers. They barely knew the question.
Frustrated or tired, First Lady finally claimed her seat behind the desk. With the hands-on portion of the session over, he and Pill finally sat back. Corey rested his arm around the back of the couch and let his fingertip graze his wife’s arm to console her and urge her to answer. As odd as it was, he liked the first lady’s style.
“You all had better talk to me,” First Lady said in a threatening tone. “You might as well call me Momma Rawls for the next five weeks, but you know what that means,” she said, letting them see the backhand side of her palm. “You’re a young married couple by today’s standards, but you clung to each other enough to participate in the very grown-up act of marriage. There was a reason for that, and I don’t believe it was to make each other miserable. Have you had a chance to read the books Deacon Tripp gave you? They are from my library and are some of the best practices out there. Loving each other through difficulties in your lives is a common theme throughout all of them. Trust me; I understand sometimes it is not that easy.”
First Lady took a breather as she sat across staring as if pondering her next course of action. They couldn’t be the worst case the first lady had ever seen, Corey thought. Once again, there was an implication that their youth and immaturity were playing a role in their impasse. Maybe they had jumped the gun when they jumped the broom. Maybe he had jumped the gun about counseling. Maybe they hadn’t tried hard enough to love and understand each another. He hated not being able to put his frustrations into words.
“I can tell you from all my research that our marriage issues are 90 percent of the stuff we bring from the past. Only 10 percent tend to stem from present issues,” First Lady started again. “So, let’s start there. Let’s talk about when you first met, and we’ll figure out whether we want to work our way forward or backward in time from there.”
Both Corey and Pill seemed to inhale deeply, then sigh just as hard as if they were about to ascend the first hill on a roller-coaster ride.
Corey noticed the first lady consult her watch as if the session were just beginning. “Ladies first, okay? Since you all need help talking, just fill in the blanks as I feed them to you. I’m trying to get at some truth here. When I first met—”
“Corey,” Pill interjected.
“Good, I thought you were asleep, Ms. Thang. You thought he was or he could be . . .? Run with it, girlfriend,” First Lady said with an encouraging wink.
Corey was also interested in the truth, especially since they met in the shade of Rico’s shadow. Pill looked over at him, then down in her lap at nothing in particular before beginning.
“I thought Corey was, you know, sweet.” She looked at him again in response to his heavy sigh. “I mean, I thought he was so nice. He hates it when I say he was sweet. He thinks I’m saying he’s soft.”
“Forget what he thinks. Let’s get to truth,” First Lady guided, “and because of his disposition, what? You fell in love instantly?”
“Well, at first I felt he was trying to run game on me,” Pill said, then sat back as if she had said her piece.
First Lady took a pen from her top desk drawer and laid it on the pad already in front of her. “Don’t leave me hanging, sweetie, elaborate.”
“He really treated me well, so I guess, I thought it was all a game,” Pill stated.
First Lady had question marks all over her face. “Huh? Did you want him to stop being nice? Treat you like some mobster or something?”
“She must have been used to being dogged. I treated her special—sincerely,” Corey added, tooting his own horn. Pill shot him a look, showing she didn’t appreciate being interrupted.
“No, no, let her tell it. You’ll have your turn. Since that was your truth, I’m interested in how that made you behave in the relationship.”
Pill played with her bangs as she thought a minute before responding. “I guess that made me try to get all that I could get before it fell apart.”
“You thought from the beginning that it would fall apart?” First Lady asked.
Corey’s heart asked the same question before it plunged at the thought that she never believed their relationship would last.
Pill crossed her arms in front of her defensively. She became adamant. “No, I meant, if it fell apart. If. Any relationship is at risk for failure.”
“Okay, it’s not what you meant, but it is what you said. I listen for those things. It’s called a Freudian slip, psychologist-slash-counselor, remember? I’m going to let you off the hot seat for a while, but think about it.” First Lady aimed focus on Corey. “How about you, brother man? Were you out for what you could get like a lot of twenty-something brothers out here? Let me ask this first. Were you practicing Christians when you met?”
He looked at Pill before nodding his head. “We both were. Ironically, we both attended here when we met.”
“So the question restated is, did you wait for her virtue, or did you take what you could get also?”
“We did not have sex before marriage,” he was proud to say. “I made it clear that I wasn’t only out for that.” But I was banking on a big and consistent payoff later.
A wide smile crossed First Lady Rawls’s lips, and she extended her arm across the desk for him to give her a high five. “I love you. I don’t need any more fornicating members wondering how
they compounded their misery with disease, fatal attraction, and baby momma drama.” Then she turned to Pill. “I love your husband.”
“I love you too, First Lady,” Corey said, satisfied he had the first lady in his corner. He figured he was going to need the brownie points.
Pill shifted over and placed her left arm on the base of her hips. “What about me?”
“I love you too, girlfriend. I can tell you’re so fly. You were me twenty years ago.”
That brought a smug smile to Pill’s face.
“Don’t smile too hard, Ms. Thang. That means I know how to pull your card. First things first, though. Obviously, you, Brother Taylor, were very patient and very giving. I don’t have to ask what attracted you to her. She’s obviously good looking and self-assured. But if you can, go back and recapture your thoughts and feelings toward your wife then,” First Lady said, getting right back to business.
Corey thought about the circumstances of their meeting. Pill was with the very suave, handsome, and rich cousin of his. She was so perfect, but if he had to admit, at least to himself, he would have done anything to have taken her away from Rico.
“When I met Pill—” Corey started.
“Wait a minute. What did you call her?” First Lady interrupted.
“Pill is my nickname. Everybody calls me that,” Pill spoke up, as if she had explained her odd nickname a million times over.
First Lady wrote on the pad for the first time this session. Corey wondered what he had said to spark the note taking.
“O . . . kay, when you met your wife, go on,” First Lady instructed.
“When I met Pill, I had just moved out to my own spot,” he started again. “Things were tight, I mean, I wasn’t ballin’ like some other guys, but I still think I did a pretty good job wining and dining her. Trying to impress her, you know. I knew she was used to, you know, brothers that had a little more.”
“A little more what? Class? Cash?”
Corey chuckled, “Cash; I had class.”
Taylor Made Page 15
