In Covenant with Ezra (Love Unaccounted Book 1)

by Love Belvin

  “Anniversaries?” My eyes grew wild.

  “Yeah. Like the first time you met, the first time you called her, the first kiss, the first time you told her you loved her… Pointless things like that.” His eyes rolled in exasperation.

  “Does it work?” I arched a brow, especially curious.

  Thaddeus cleared his throat and shifted in his seat, away from me. “I wouldn’t know, sir.” He went back to engaging his phone.

  That was a blatant sign of an existing problem. One I’d been putting off addressing and would continue. I, myself, turned to gaze out of my window. He’d given me enough to chew on with how to make myself more appealing to Alexis until I had her where I needed her. In my bed, submitting every fiber of her sienna being to me and only me.

  She was the final piece for me.

  Lex

  “Hello?” I whispered, dazed.

  “Alexis,” he greeted, chords vibrated evenly, almost soothing.

  “Ezra?”

  “Yes,” his chords rasped. Oddly, I could visualize his chin toward the phone as he muttered into the phone. “I’m sorry for calling so late.”

  “Is everything okay?” My mind was fogged from sleep.

  Ironic how I’d just rubbed off to thoughts of Ezra just an hour ago. Was this some type of delayed visual I was awakening to?

  “Yes. I’m in Nevada and I’ve been so busy in meetings and conferences out here that I lost track of time. I realize it’s late, and I’m about to speak, but wanted to call and…check in…with you before the day ended.

  It was Ezra. I checked the time, and indeed, it was after eleven at night.

  “You’re about to go on stage and speak?”

  “Yes, beloved. I am.”

  “Shouldn’t you be preparing? I know you must be nervous.” Shit. I was nervous at the prospect.

  “No,” he stated with ease. “I was born to do this. After preparing physically, I haven’t much more to do than open my mouth.” Wow! I didn’t know many with his level of confidence. Ezra oozed it. “Public speaking isn’t a challenge for me at all, but…”

  “Having a girlfriend to engage is,” I finished his thought.

  “Incredibly,” he breathed into the phone.

  I smiled in the dusk of my room. Ezra actually made me blush.

  “But,” his voiced perked. “I am sincere in wanting to reach out and bid you a good night. I’m not sure if I’ll have time to talk until tomorrow evening and I won’t be back until the day after.”

  “Well, thank you for thinking of me, Ezra,” I, too, was sincere. “I appreciate the effort.”

  “Yes. If we’re really going to do this, I have to become accustomed to pleasantries.”

  He’d listened and was actually applying effort. I still hadn’t fully settled in this arrangement I agreed to with him as his girlfriend. I hadn’t told anyone, believing it to be absurd. And maybe it was, but him delivering small acts of consideration further deluded me.

  “Have you heard from your city liaison?”

  I took a moment to consider his question. Then I hid to stifle my laughter. I was quite sure Pamela Jackson’s business card didn’t read “City Liaison,” but leave it to Ezra to formalize everything. After our agreement to a formal relationship, I shared with him how I applied for extra funding for the rec and was waiting to hear back from the city on whether or not we’d get it.

  “Not yet. I have a couple more days until the time they told me to expect to hear back.”

  “Okay. You’ll keep me posted, won’t you?”

  Oh, he’s really milking it.

  “Su-sure. Should I call or text?”

  He quickly gushed, “A call or text would work for me.”

  This time I couldn’t fight my giggle.

  “What’s so funny, Alexis?”

  “It would alleviate the pain of you having to do it,” I surmised.

  Whatever help in communication he could receive would assist him in the mission of being a bona fide boyfriend. It wouldn’t force him to consider reasons to call or deciding when to simply text.

  “You’re probably right, beloved.”

  Still feeling giddy, I added for good measure, “Okay. You’ve interrupted my rub off session. I’ll let you go preach now.”

  “Rub off…”

  Damn. He’s a preacher and doesn’t know the lingo.

  “Yeah, my masturbation session.”

  “Oh, I understood the terminology, just didn’t expect it to come from you. Is that something you do at this hour?”

  Why did his controlled voice that was no different than it would have been if we were discussing a Bible verse turn me the fuck on so effortlessly? I had to go. I, that quickly, realized it was one type of inappropriate to flirt with a preacher, but a new level of disrespect to do it moments before he stepped on stage to preach.

  “Good night, sir.” I continued laughing, but was met with a lengthy period of silence. “Ezra?”

  “I’m here, beloved,” he replied soberly. “Good night.”

  The call disconnected.

  That was weird.

  Ezra: Are you up?

  Alexis: Yup.

  Ezra: Good. I haven’t heard from you in days. I hope you’re up this late finishing that paper and not “rubbing one off”.

  Alexis: CTFU Maybe…

  Ezra: Maybe?

  Alexis: Yeah. Maybe I wouldn’t need to if you did it for me…

  Ezra: Please do not needle the beast, beloved. I’m doing the both of us a favor by keeping him sedated.

  Alexis: Well you don’t have to on my behalf. I’m curious to meet him.

  Ezra: And I’m curious to get to know more about you.

  Alexis: Like what?

  Ezra: Like your childhood. What was it like?

  Alexis: I don’t know. Average I guess. I’m an only child and saw my parents when they weren’t in prison or in the psyche ward.

  Ezra: Who was in prison vs the psyche ward?

  Alexis: Dad’s second home is Riker’s Island. He has third and fourth addresses at other prisons too. Mom fought to stay out of psyche wards. She hated being medicated.

  Ezra: I am sorry to have this conversation via text. This is definitely more appropriate for a face-to-face chat. I am also sorry that you had to endure that, Alexis.

  Alexis: No sweat. My parents were nutty (no pun intended) but they taught me Harlem Pride. My dad taught me how to fight and Moms showed me how not to back down. It could be a boy, man, woman or girl my age… If they wanted beef, I took them on. I’m stronger than most think. I’m grateful to my parents for that.

  Ezra: Men? You fought men, Alexis?

  Alexis: Twice as a teen. I didn’t win one fight, but got enough licks in. My dad handled both when he came home. My parents whooped my ass if I turned down a fight. It was all good. They’re skills that are handy when working at the rec. People come in there all the time starting trouble. I don’t back down.

  Ezra: I am absolutely speechless, Alexis. I could never see you in a physical altercation.

  Alexis: That’s because you’re envisioning the wrong kind of physical altercation. The one I envision is you in my…

  Ezra: Alexis…

  Alexis: Okay…okay! LMMFAO! I can’t help it.

  Ezra: Tell me more about your mother.

  Alexis: I dunno. She would always have these fantasies about my life as an adult. Like me getting a college degree and having a good job. She would say I was going to have only two kids because kids wear you out. LOL! She said lots of things about the future me.

  Ezra: It’s called “speaking life.” That warms my heart.

  Alexis: Yeah. Now that you’re forcing me back it warms mine too. My mom was good in her own crazy way.

  Ezra: She talked about kids. Did she talk about your husband and what he’d be like?

  Alexis: Not really. Just that we’d have a big house for those two kids and he would love the hell out of me (don’t laugh).

  Alexis:
Oh, and that one day he’d surprised me with a fancy Jaguar. I forgot about that one. That woman was obsessed with Jaguars. SMDH.

  Ezra: What’s wrong with a Jaguar? Those cars carry a level of class. I think I like your mother in her wake.

  Alexis: Nothing. I actually like them now too. I didn’t get it when I was kid. As an adult I realize she wasn’t totally crazy. LMAO

  Ezra: Aside from your tasteless language, this chat has been very uplifting and illuminating. Thanks for this disclosure. Goodnight, beloved. I have to go now.

  Alexis: Tasteless? You should’ve told me you wanted something to eat. I have something VERY tasty for you under this sheet. Wanna see?

  Ezra: THAT MOUTH, ALEXIS! PLEASE!

  Alexis: I think I felt the reverberation of your venom from across the country. Goodnight, sir. Safe travels.

  Ezra

  “So, what is it that your parents do, Alexis? Are they from Harlem as well?” My father asked before taking a sip of his ice tea.

  My mother’s eyes rushed over to Alexis, who sat next to me. Her shoulders were retracted, eyes alert, and elbows off the table. My beloved was nervous. It was early in the visit yet, but she was doing well. I wanted to reward her, so badly I did. However, I’d only known one way to reward a woman of interest and that defied all moral standing.

  Alexis cleared her throat as she went for her glass. “My mother was born in Paterson, New Jersey and my father’s from Harlem.” She took a deep swig of her lemonade.

  And just as she was about to speak again, my mother cut in.

  “Oh, nice.” Her eyes didn’t match the enthusiasm of her words. “Are they members of RSfALC?”

  “No, ma’am. My mother died when I was high school and my father is currently incarcerated,” Alexis answered.

  My father’s aghast regard shot over to me. Mother’s hand went to her neck, an act of shielding herself. I glanced, proudly, to the right of me. And there she was. The brave girl who kept her chin in the air no matter who sat at the table, and in this case, whose table she sat at. It didn’t matter that Alexis was a poor girl from Harlem, eating at the table of one of the most powerful and widely-known televangelist on the east coast, in his Scarsdale home, posing as the love interest of his only child being positioned to take over the ministry. Alexis was Lex Grier, a woman of a sound resolve who wouldn’t back down.

  I knew you could handle this, beloved.

  I wanted to touch her, stroke her neck or kiss her, but now was not the time.

  “In high school?” my mother trilled, her face filled with horror. “Well, who took care of you? Do you have older siblings?”

  “Like me,” I cut in to relieve Alexis of sharing personal details of her childhood. They didn’t need that level of intimacy with her, “Alexis is an only child. She’s turned out well in spite of losing her mother prematurely.”

  I paid another glance at her, to which she didn’t return. Alexis regarded my mother.

  “We lived with my grandmother, so I just stayed with her until she passed after my eighteenth birthday.”

  Oh, that’s something I was unaware of…

  My mother gasped again. “And after she left to be with the Lord, who took care of you then?” my mother continued. “I understand you were a legal adult, but you were just a baby!” she exclaimed.

  In a flash, Alexis’ eyes diverted and she went to her plate, forking a piece of roasted potato, her lamb remained untouched. I made a mental note to never order or prepare that for her in the future. I absorbed everything I could about Alexis. It was my mission to study her for the purpose of cultivating her into the ideal dutiful creature for me.

  “I made due for a while alone,” Alexis provided then fed herself the potato. As she chewed I could detect the moment she was hit with a revelation. She swallowed quickly and gushed, “Then I met Ms. Remah. If I ever had any, she’d come closest to a maternal figure for me.”

  “Is that who you live with?” my father asked, regarding her as an animal exhibit.

  Alexis shook her head before swallowing again. “I live alone.”

  “Oh, so does she attend RSfALC?”

  Christ, mother!

  “Mother, the only person Alexis knows personally from the church, other than me, is a young woman name Lillian, who just launched a ministry under our umbrella, aiding women to return to school,” I supplied gently, but she knew me well enough to understand I wanted her to back off with that question.

  I understood my parents had been church-goers all their lives. All they knew was that type of fellowshipping environment. They only knew Jesus saves…even if it didn’t show in my father’s conduct. My mother’s father and grandfather were pastors. My father’s father, uncles, grandfather, and great-grandfather were all men of the cloth—most pastors. Their minds were framed around the culture of church. It was because of their limitation that I didn’t want to share the same fate, so I left the country for years, only returning when I had to.

  “I’m sorry, honey,” my mother’s eyes blinked excessively. This only happened when she was discombobulated. “It’s just you’ve never brought a woman home. That had always concerned me. I was excited when you called about wanting to bring her to meet us. And now I’m curious to learn the connection here.”

  “I wasn’t concerned.” My father brought his elbows to the table as he issued a leveling glare to Alexis, an attempt at intimidation. “But I’m curious as well.”

  That’s when her eyes raked anxiously over to me for answers. She had no idea what I wanted from her.

  Oh, beloved. I only want to consume and possess you like the starved and hyper-libido man I am. But you don’t need to know this to enjoy it.

  “I have a full and hectic life. It’s nice to take a break every once in a while and be in the presence of a lovely woman and fellow-believer,” I answered, my regard on Alexis.

  Her plump lips formed an “o” as though she’d just gained useful insight. I wanted to laugh at how wrong she in fact was.

  “Well,” my mother murmured as she looked to my father for confirmation, “we didn’t court long at all.”

  Without returning her regard my father stated categorically, “As a matter of fact, the church’s policy is that you date for no more than six months before you must then be engaged. Long-term dating leads to—”

  “That is a policy I’m well versed in, Bishop.” And one I’ve never believed applied to all ages, but I wouldn’t argue it here because it wasn’t necessary. I’d been of the age it should be applied to and I had no desire to wait out a long dating process…especially after tasting Alexis’ mouth. I couldn’t stand to wait long to sample any of her other substances. “We don’t want to scare Alexis off with policy rhetoric. I’d much rather show her an appealing and off-the-cuff side of her pastor and his first lady.” I tried to charm.

  Just then Aileen, the housekeeper, entered the dining room. She stood to observe for cues.

  My mother clapped her hands in mustered excitement. “Okay. It seems that we’re all done here. Lex, I put together a sweet potato pie for my Ezra.” She stood. “Would you like to help me slice it?”

  “Sure.” Alexis rose from her seat and I appreciatively observed her light make up and mildly fitted tan slacks under a sleeveless white blouse and ballerina shoes.

  As I watched her follow my mother out of the room, I noted how I loathed those things. They were lazy footwear. Now, I would prefer seeing Alexis’ lanky frame in, at a minimum, four-inch heels, five inches if I was taking her from the ba—

  My eyes squeezed in condemnation. There I was again, lusting after what would be mine if I kept my mind on the right track. I stroked my beard to help refocus my thoughts.

  As Aileen collected our plates, I went for my phone, wanting to check the alerts that were sounding during dinner.

  “Has Precious met her?” My father’s voice pulled my attention from my hands.

  “I don’t believe so,” I muttered. “Why do you ask?”


  “Because I wasn’t aware of you dating. I thought you would’ve started with her,” he murmured, cognizant of his volume, though Aileen was still clearing the table.

  “I told you a couple months back that I’m not interested in Precious. At all,” I added for emphasis, my brow hiked. “Besides, I think we can agree that Precious is a beautiful and well-accomplished woman. She doesn’t have a shortage of men.”

  “She may not.” He sat back in his seat once Aileen opened the door to leave the room. “But we all know she would end whatever arrangement she’s in to be by your side.”

  Growing disgusted by his implications, I shook my head faintly. “I’m not interested in Precious and she’s well aware of that.”

  “You once were.”

  “And doubt if I’ll ever be again.” That was putting it mildly.

  The doors burst open and out came my mother with dessert plates and Alexis followed her cradling a cake stand with a pie atop.

  “That smells delicious,” I acknowledged the two women.

  “Yes, dear. It’s fresh. I made one for you to take home, but it seems as though Lex here may steal it. It appears sweet potato is her favorite pie as we—” She used one hand to grab her head and the other to steady herself against the table. My mother’s face tightened and lips pinched against apparent pain.

  “Are you okay?” Alexis asked, alarmed.

  My father reached over her to grab a plate, unperturbed. “She’s having another one of those headaches again,” he strained breathlessly and then plopped back into his chair.

  Concurrently, my parents were showing signs of aging. My father had been out of shape for some time. His belly was bloated and head and neck doubled in size, we knew it was due to his myriad health issues. My mother randomly experienced painful spasms in her cranium. This wasn’t easy for me to witness.