“Hey, Sister Yvonne,” she says as she hugs me. “I heard you done turned vigilante. That’s what’s up! I know who I want with me walking down a dark alley.”
“It was nothing, y’all!” I say. “My sister was being attacked, and I jumped into the fray. I’m afraid I didn’t think of what I was doing.”
Pam emerges from outside with a huge smile on her face. She immediately wipes it off when she sees me looking at her. She takes a seat next to Taylor in the circle after waving to Eva and Carmisha.
“Let’s get started,” Taylor says. “I’ve got some prayer requests.”
Rhoda says, “Come on, Rochelle. Set yourself on down so I can call this meeting to order.”
Rochelle hustles her ample behind over to the center. This poor child has gained so much weight since she became Rhoda’s protégée and partner in crime. Probably all those after-church visits to the buffet restaurants.
“Bless the Lord, oh my soul, and all that is within me!” Rhoda sings. She gets everyone to join her in singing Myron Butler’s version of “Bless the Lord,” one of my favorites. Everyone except Pam, that is. Pam has a pensive expression on her face as she gazes out the window.
“Thank God on this evening for waking me up in my right mind! For starting me on my way. For being a fence around my family, including my future cousin-in-law twice removed, Sister Rochelle. Thank you, oh, Lord.”
I am so bad. I just chuckled to myself about Rhoda thanking God for being in her right mind. I hope Eva didn’t see that. I don’t want her to form opinions of the sisters based on what I think. I’ve got plenty of history with Rhoda that lets me know she’s absolutely in her wrong mind, but bless the Lord anyhow.
Taylor stands up to signal to Rhoda that it’s her turn to speak. You have to do that with Rhoda, because she’ll take up the entire time testifying and getting her weekly breakthrough.
“I need y’all to pray for me, Spencer, and Joshua. You know I don’t usually tell my business, but I need y’all to pray for my son. He’s going through so much these days, just trying to figure out the kind of man he wants to be, and his biological deadbeat now wants to be in his life. I can’t see it.”
Shaquan rolls her eyes. “Luke needs to go somewhere and fall off the face of the earth.”
Taylor shakes her head at Shaquan, to quiet her down, I suppose. “What?” Shaquan says. “Everybody don’t know that Luke is Joshua’s father?”
“I mean, we suspected,” Rochelle says. “Since he look just like Luke and everything. But no one actually confirmed.”
“Oops, my bad!” Shaquan covers her mouth with her hand.
“I don’t care if everyone knows,” Taylor says. “Yvonne knows, and we’ve moved past all that. So I don’t care if everyone else knows.”
Eva raises her hand, and Rhoda acknowledges her. “Um . . . I—I need you all to pray for me. I’m staying at a women’s shelter right now, and I just hope that I can find a job so that I can get a place of my own.”
“Well, I can help with that!” Pam says. “You can stay at my house for as long as you need.”
Rochelle says, “Your husband is okay with that?”
Pam clears her throat and ignores Rochelle’s nosy question. She’s probably already heard that Troy isn’t staying at home. I don’t know how Rhoda and Rochelle do it. They always manage to know the scoop. I bet they hang out in the bushes or the treetops with binoculars and bags of potato chips, because Rhoda doesn’t go anywhere without a snack.
“I also want y’all to pray for me about some spiritual issues,” Eva says. “Before I got saved, I did some . . . um . . . unsavory things. And for some reason, the devil keeps calling them to my mind.”
Eva sits down quickly, as if uttering those words sapped all the energy from her. She looks at the floor and not at everyone else, but Rhoda’s and Rochelle’s eyes look like they’re about to bug right out of their silly heads. I want to slap the both of them.
“I think we should do a twenty-four-hour prayer circle for Sister Eva,” Carmisha says. “They did that for me when I just couldn’t stay away from my last baby daddy. It was like I could feel the Holy Spirit covering me.”
“I think we should start a twenty-four-hour prayer circle for our entire ministry,” Rhoda says. “The devil is sure busy. We’ve got leadership not showing up on Sunday mornings, secrets coming out left and right, and Pastor Brown has a spot on his lungs.”
I narrow my eyes at Rhoda for her little dig at me and Kingston. I was wondering how she was going to work that into the conversation. I’ve got something for her.
“Y’all put me on the prayer wheel, too,” I say. “There’s a man in my life.”
Rhoda and Rochelle lean forward, bug-eyed and slack jawed. Heffas.
“And he says he just can’t stop thinking about me,” I continue. “Ask the Lord to help me keep my virtue.”
Shaquan bursts out laughing. “Yvonne! You were married for a long time, right? I don’t think you have any virtue left!”
Pam and Taylor join her laughter. I hold mine in, although it’s hard, because Rhoda’s entire gelatinous body is shaking like it’s about to explode. I think she’s got gossip overload. She’s gonna pop if she doesn’t get to share these stories.
Rhoda jumps up from her seat. “Twenty-four-hour prayer wheel it is! The Word says that if God’s people would humble themselves and pray, He would heal the land. Lord, we need a healing!”
Rochelle goes down on her knees with tears in her eyes. Rhoda touches her on the forehead, and she falls to the floor. Eva views the spectacle and then looks at me. I give a little head shake.
Rhoda runs over to the cupboard and pulls out a bottle of vegetable oil from the kitchen ministry. “I need to anoint everybody’s head with oil.”
“That is not the anointed oil, Rhoda!” Taylor says. “That’s for the catfish dinners on Friday.”
I jump to my feet. I feel like I started all this, so I better bring the focus back on God, for real. Especially since Taylor and Eva need to see a real move of God. Pam too.
“Come on, y’all. Let’s join hands and pray,” I say.
“What about the oil?” Rhoda says.
“We don’t need it. It’s just symbolic of the Holy Spirit, and we can have that if we get together on one accord in the name of Jesus,” I reply.
Rhoda sets down the bottle of oil and joins the circle. I start off the prayer. “Lord, we come to you humbly, asking for forgiveness for foolishness and for anything unlike you.” I say that part for myself. I shouldn’t have poked Rhoda and Rochelle.
“We have some real issues, here, oh, God. Some real strongholds that need to be broken. We pray against bitterness and unforgiveness. No matter how many times we learn that lesson, Lord, it isn’t enough. Teach us how to forgive.”
I squeeze Eva’s hand tightly when I say this. I want her to know how much I forgive her. I hope she hasn’t thought me judgmental, because then I’ll have to ask her to forgive me.
“Dear God, make us to know that when we submit ourselves to you, you will help us to withstand every urge from the enemy. Even if they’re called to mind, you will be able to neutralize them. By your stripes we are healed. In our minds, our bodies, and our spirits. We thank you in the matchless name of Jesus.”
When we open our eyes, Eva is shaking and has tears rolling down her face. She hugs me and holds on for dear life. Then she pulls me away from the circle to a corner of the room.
“Y-Yvonne,” she whispers, “my uncle raped me when I was little, and no one saved me, not even my grandmother. Thank you for praying about forgiveness. I know now that I don’t forgive them.”
I stroke Eva’s hair and hug her again. “Do you want to talk to your grandmother about it? I’ll go with you if you like.”
She shakes her head. “My grandmother is dead.”
“Your uncle too?”
“No. He’s dying, though. My cousin said that he caught the package about five years ago, and now he’s
in hospice.”
Eva breaks down again and falls into my arms. I’m so glad we decided to have real prayer in here. Sometimes I don’t think we take this group seriously enough. There’s nothing funny about prayer.
“Eva, honey. I know Pam offered you her place, but why don’t you come and stay with me for a while?”
She stares at me, blinking tears, which spill all over her face. “Are you sure? I mean after—”
“I am not concerned about that. That’s under the blood. We’re going to get your stuff from that shelter, and you are going to stay with me.”
I never had a daughter, a goddaughter, or a niece, but I think God has placed this girl in my path for a reason. Maybe she’s not the only one who needs a breakthrough. Maybe I need one, too.
CHAPTER 39
PAM
For the first time in a long time, the Sister to Sister meeting actually felt like a prayer group. Yvonne put her foot in that prayer, and I think she got her own blessing, too. I hope that little bit about unforgiveness wasn’t about me and Troy, though. God doesn’t require me to accept cheating from my husband. No matter what they say or think, I have grounds for divorce.
I walk through my home, straightening up, although there’s not really much to straighten. Over the past few days, with Troy being gone, there’s not been much of a mess. He’s the one who tears everything up. The children are ridiculously neat. I guess they get that from me.
Troy left me a voice-mail message to tell me where he’s staying. At the Fairfield Inn about five minutes from our house. I don’t respond. I have nothing to say until he tells me that Aria has been erased from our lives.
The doorbell rings, and I know we’re not expecting company. It better not be Troy, because that is a violation of this trial separation we got going here. I don’t care if his name is on the deed, I will call the police with a quickness.
I take a peek out the window and notice that it’s Logan. He’s got a huge smile on his face and a box of cupcakes in his hand. I shake my head and inhale deeply. I exhale and then open the door.
“Logan, I don’t think—”
He holds a finger to my lips, shushing me. “It’s just cupcakes, Pam.”
I take the box from his hands and take the sight of him all the way in. He’s wearing a snug T-shirt and jeans, and the scent of his cologne immediately tickles my nose. As always, his best accessory is his smile.
“Thank you, Logan.”
“Were you busy?” He points to the scarf on my head. I quickly snatch it off and toss it on the floor behind me.
“Just doing a little cleaning, that’s all.”
“Want some company?”
I look over my shoulder and up the stairs. Me having a guy here won’t look good to my children.
“I don’t think so. It’s not a good time.”
He steps a little closer. Into my personal space bubble. The danger zone. I think his cologne has got crack in it or something, because I’m already addicted.
I put one hand on his chest. “No, not this evening. Thank you for the cupcakes. I could sure use the carbs, but not the company.”
“I just came by to tell you that I spoke to Troy today about Aria. I thought you’d want to hear what he has to say.”
Shoot. I can’t just leave him standing out here so the whole neighborhood can see a man that’s not Troy all up in my face. I do want to know what Troy said, though.
“Come on in, Logan. But just for a little bit. I don’t want my babies to get the wrong idea.”
“Why would they get the wrong idea?”
“They’re not used to me having male company over, so I just don’t want to alarm them, especially with their daddy not being here.”
“I’ll be quick, then.”
“Come on into the kitchen.”
I put the cupcakes on the counter and take out a carton of milk. “Want some?” I ask. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to fatten me up with all these cupcakes,” I say. “Are you a chubby chaser or something?”
Logan laughs out loud. I frown and shush him, and he gets much quieter. “I am not a chubby chaser. I think you look fine. You’re just thick.”
“Anyway! Enough of that. Tell me what Troy said about Aria.”
Logan takes a seat on one of the bar stools. “I asked him if he was going to drop her, at least after the Reign Records deal goes through.”
“And?”
“Well . . .”
I forget about my rules and slam my hand down on the kitchen counter. “Tell me!”
“He said that you aren’t running nothing, and that he was going to ride this thing all the way through and see how much money he’s going to make.”
“He said what?”
“He thinks you’ll eventually come around, because you want the money, too, especially since Aria is getting married.”
I can’t believe this. While he’s begging through Spencer to come back home, he’s being all big and bad with his homeboy, talking about how I don’t run nothing! Well, maybe I don’t, but I do decide whether or not he comes back up in here, at least tonight.
“Do you think you’ll stay separated?” Logan asks. “He says that he misses you.”
“He doesn’t miss me enough, and he doesn’t love me more than he loves money, so I don’t know what’s going to happen with us.”
“You are too beautiful to be treated this way, Pam.”
I chuckle. “Like, does it bother you to be two faced like this, Logan? You’re going back and forth between me and Troy.”
“I am kind of caught in the middle.”
“Only because you want to be! You don’t have to be my friend, Logan. I appreciate what you’ve done so far, but you are Troy’s friend. You don’t have to betray him.”
Logan takes one of the cupcakes out of the box and takes a bite before getting up off the bar stool. “Are you saying you don’t want to be my friend?” He walks toward me while waiting for my answer.
“I—I don’t know.”
“Because I’d rather be your friend than Troy’s. Other than the music, Troy and I don’t have anything in common. But you and I, well, we’ve got our writing, our humor, and our love of cupcakes.”
Logan takes a finger full of chocolate buttercream frosting and holds it close to my lips. I gulp and close my eyes. Don’t take the bait, Pam! Don’t do it!
My mind is screaming at me, but his cologne has got me severely twisted, and his lips are so close to mine. His warm chocolate-scented breath is right beneath my nose.
Then he kisses me, and all thoughts cease. It is a “get you weak in the knees” kiss, an intimate kiss, the kind I’ve only ever shared with Troy.
I push him away. “Logan, I think you should go.”
“Your mouth is saying that, but I think your body is saying something else.”
Logan pulls me close with one arm and kisses me again. This time it doesn’t feel sweet. It feels invasive and forced. And his hands are groping where they shouldn’t grope.
Now his kiss muffles a scream as he unhooks my bra in the back and yanks my shirt up so that he can violate me further.
“Logan, stop!” I scream as I finally yank my face away from his lips.
“Stop? Pam, you’ve been teasing me since the day we met. You heard me say I was celibate, and you’ve just been tempting me and flirting with me.”
“I don’t believe you’re celibate!”
Logan yanks me close again. “You’re right. I’m not. But stop fighting me, Pam. I’m gonna make you feel so good, you’re gonna forget all about Troy.”
Then I hear something that sounds like a roar as Troy storms through the kitchen. Logan has only a half second to respond, and it’s not enough time, because Troy is on him like white on rice. Troy punches Logan in the stomach, and it makes him drop to his knees.
“Hey, man! Your wife let me in. She wants me. Don’t get mad ’cause she got revenge on you.”
“Troy, that
’s not true!”
Troy points at me and says, “Pam, shut up and go upstairs.”
“What are you gonna do, Troy?” I ask, my voice trembling.
“I heard my wife scream.” Troy kicks Logan under the chin, and blood spatters across the floor.
“Troy!” I scream. “You’re gonna kill him! I don’t want you to go to jail!”
This seems to sink in with Troy. He stops his assault. “Fool, you got about ten seconds to get out of my house.”
Logan crawls out of the kitchen on his hands and knees. I grab Troy when he looks like he’s going to attack him again.
“Don’t! Just let him go, please. I just want this to be over.”
Troy turns and looks at me with disgust. “Next time you want to spend time with a man, don’t have him over here. Isn’t that what you requested of me?”
“He wasn’t over here for that, Troy! He said he’s been talking to you. I didn’t know he was going to do that.”
“Well, I don’t want to get any more texts from my daughter that a man is in our home.”
Gretchen! Normally, I would be mad about her snitching to her daddy, but this time I’m actually glad that she did that. Who knows what Logan would’ve done if Troy hadn’t come in?
“You won’t, Troy.”
“Did he tell you that after this project I’m dropping Aria? Is that how he got you in a lip-lock?”
My eyes widen. “He said the opposite. He said that you had no intention of dropping her.”
Troy slams his hand down on the counter. “I knew he was feeding you information. I saw his number come up on your text logs. But I had no idea he was telling you lies.”
I frown deeply. “You’re checking my text messages?”
“Not really, no. I just scan the bill from time to time.”
Mmm-hmm. Sounds like I need to be checking his messages while he’s following up behind me!
“So are you letting me come home?” Troy asks.
“No. I’m still mad.”
Don't Tell A Soul Page 23
