Color Me Bad: A Novella (3 page)

Once the books were out, she went back into the house and began going from room to room, taking down the personal pictures of their wedding and the holidays they’d taken together. Every family memento that had his face on it was going in the garbage. She would not lay her head on a pillow tonight until she made sure every trace of his presence had been removed from this house. Her heart was so full of rage that there were no more tears. The only positive in this mess was that they’d never had children to suffer this disgrace with her.

She had just carried the last stack of pictures outside to the trash and was coming in the back door when she heard the front door slam and then the sound of running feet.

Her heart jumped, but then she took a deep breath and curled her hands into fists. She heard him running from room to room, and waited. Eventually, he’d get to the kitchen and then she would have her say.

CHAPTER 2

If Marvin Scheffler had been watching where he was driving instead of trying to get a fly out of his truck, he wouldn’t have had a wreck on his way out of town or been transported to the hospital in Blessings, afraid he was going to die. And if Marvin hadn’t been afraid he was going to hell for boycotting the church for ending bingo night, he wouldn’t have insisted on seeing Preacher Clymer before he went into surgery, and the entire day would have evolved quite differently for a lot of people. But being what it was, life was full of surprises and Marvin’s wreck was only one of them.

•••

Conrad had just met up with Bobbette at the Hollywood Motel and wasted no time getting naked. He was, as his daddy used to say, primed and ready to go. They were about to get down to business when his cell phone vibrated all the way across the end table beside the bed.

Bobbette frowned. “Don’t answer it, sugar bear. You’re not a doctor. No one’s gonna die if you don’t show up.”

He stifled a frown as he glanced at the text.

“It’s Melba, and it’s an emergency,” he said.

“How do you know that?”

“The only message on her text is a 911.” He quickly dialed the church. “Melba, what’s wrong?”

She relayed the message and asked him what he wanted her to do.

“Tell them I’m on the way,” he said and disconnected.

“Someone had a wreck. They’re afraid he’s dying. I have to go,” Conrad said, and began grabbing his clothes.

Although she knew better than to argue, Bobbette began complaining as she proceeded to get dressed.

“This just messes everything up. What am I going to do? I don’t want to sit and wait here all by myself.”

“We can hardly go into Blessings together, and you know it,” Conrad said.

Bobbette pouted even more as she began yanking on her clothes and, in the process, broke off one of her artificial nails, which brought on a fit of monumental proportions.

She cried, then she pouted again, and then she promised Conrad to add a special little trick to the next blow job if he’d take her with him. Before Conrad knew it, they were in the car together on their way back to town.

Even though he’d driven around to the back side of the hospital to park, he’d been a nervous wreck that they would be seen together. They’d parted company in the parking lot, with the agreement to meet back there in an hour. She was going to get her nail fixed, and he would go pray with Marvin Scheffler so he could go into surgery.

Conrad had known all the way into town that it was a risk, just like he’d known from the start of the affair that he was committing a sin. But this woman had been scratching an itch Patty June could never reach. The possibility of getting caught had always been in the back of his mind, but he had a just-in-case plan.

Years ago, televangelist Jimmy Swaggart had been caught chasing tail and begged for forgiveness in front of his congregation on a nationwide broadcast and got away with it. Conrad had gone along with his own cheating with something similar in mind.

Once inside the hospital, he prayed with Marvin and sent him on his way to surgery, then went out to the parking lot to wait for Bobbette.

But she never showed up, and it kept getting later and later. The only place he knew to look for her was at The Curl Up and Dye. He’d thought seriously about leaving her to her own resources, but he didn’t want to make her mad. He’d thought to just walk in, pretend to be looking for his wife, and if Bobbette was still there, he’d soon know it.

So he headed to the beauty shop, careful to keep an eye on the streets for Bobbette as he drove. Once he arrived, he got out with his usual aplomb and poked his head inside to look around. But after Vesta’s comment about whores and wives, and seeing all that red hair on the floor, it became apparent that the train his Jimmy Swaggart plan was on had already left the station.

Conrad drove home, shaking like a sinner at the altar praying for redemption and so damn scared he felt like puking.

When he came around the corner and saw his things out in the yard, he swerved, barely missing a parked car. He wheeled into the driveway, then stumbled to the house, his legs shaking so hard he could barely stand.

“Oh my God, oh my God, please, please, please,” he kept muttering.

Unfortunately, he had not been specific enough with his prayer, and Patty June was obviously not a bit inclined toward forgiveness. He staggered past computers, office equipment, books, clothes, and what appeared to be everything he’d ever owned strung all over the porch and the yard.

But the bigger shock was the empty walls inside. It was if their marriage had never happened. He ran through the hall to their bedroom, then back through the house toward the kitchen, so damn scared now that he couldn’t call out her name.

When he rounded the doorway into the kitchen, he stopped short. He’d found her, but from the look on her face, he was regretting the search.

“Patty June, I—”

“Shut your mouth, Conrad. There is nothing on this earth I want to hear from you. You have defiled me. You slept with me at the same time you slept with your whore. You have shamed me, your church, and your congregation. You are a lying, cheating bastard, and you should be grateful that my father has passed over, or he would have shot you dead where you stand. Get out of my house. Get your things off my property or I will set them on fire. When you get wherever you’re going, send me a mailing address for the divorce decree. If you do not, I will hire a private investigator to find you and proceed to ruin your name everywhere you go for the rest of your life.”

Conrad gulped. All of a sudden, he needed to pee.

“I am so sorry—”

“Yes, you are. As sorry a man as ever set foot on this earth. Get out of my sight.”

“Please. I’ll go to counseling. I’ll—”

Patty June pulled a knife from the knife block. “I won’t tell you again,” she said and started toward him.

“Jesus Christ! Patty June, have you—”

She came at him, and Conrad turned tail and ran screaming out of the house.

She stood in the doorway with her eyes blazing, the knife held tightly in her grip, watching him carry away his things. Every time he came back to the porch to take another load, it was all she could do not to take the butcher knife to what was left of his hair, the same way she’d marked his damn whore.

•••

Conrad kept an anxious eye on Patty June as he gathered up his things, frantically stuffing them into the trunk, then on the car seats and in the floorboard, until the car was so packed he couldn’t see anything through the rearview mirror. He knew the neighbors were watching. A couple of them had even come out to their front porches for a closer look. If it would have been possible to drop dead at will, he would have already passed on. Apparently God was not inclined to let guilty bastards out of their own messes that easily.

Finally, he had everything packed in the car. He stopped by the door and looked back at his wife, unable to believe fifteen years of marriage were ending like this.

“Patty June, I—”

She went back in the house, slamming the door to punctuate the fact that she had just shut him out of her life.

His heart hurt as he got in the car and started the engine, but the car was so full that he had to hang his head out the window to back up.

It didn’t occur to him until he was driving away that he didn’t know where he was going. He’d blown a career and a marriage for the pleasure of Bobbette Paulson’s blow jobs. Looking back, he could honestly say it was not a good trade-off.

He was halfway down Main Street when it occurred to him that he would need money. He made a quick stop at the bank, then grabbed the checkbook from the console and ran inside, not realizing everyone in the bank already knew what he’d done.

He stopped at the nearest teller and began writing a check, then tore it off and scooted it toward the teller.

She looked at it and shoved it back.

“Sorry, Preacher, but that check will bounce.”

“What? But that’s imposs—”
Oh
shit
. He cleared his throat. “What
is
the balance?”

She wrote it on a piece of paper and slid it toward him.

He swallowed past the knot in his throat and rewrote a check for the entire fifteen-hundred dollars, pocketed the money, and walked out with his steps dragging.

He thought about going to check on Bobbette before he made himself scarce, then decided against it. It wouldn’t be the same getting a blow job if he didn’t have all that hair to hold on to.

•••

By the time the sun went down, nearly everyone in Blessings had heard about the preacher’s fall from grace. The board of directors from the Freewill Baptist Church arrived just as Patty was about to sit down to a solitary supper. She saw them drive up and went to the kitchen to turn the fire off under her stew. If she did what she wanted, she wouldn’t even go to the door, but eventually she would have to face them. Might as well get all the ugly stuff over in one day.

When the doorbell rang, she stood in the kitchen, waiting until they rang it the second time before she went to answer. They were rude in showing up without calling, so she didn’t feel any immediate obligation to be prompt. Once she got to the foyer she took a deep breath, patted her hair to make sure it was still in place, then let them in and proceeded to play dumb. From the looks on their faces, they were less than pleased with the day’s events, but she could have cared less. She wasn’t all that happy about them herself.

“Titus? Willy? Carl Wayne? What on earth are y’all doing here? The board doesn’t meet for another three weeks.”

The three men had two things in common. Aside from being on the board together, they were all three big worrywarts, in Patty June’s opinion. She could only imagine what was on their minds.

“We’re not here for a board meeting,” Titus said. “May we come in?”

“I suppose. I was about to sit down and have my supper. What can I do for you?”

The three men frowned. “As if you don’t already know,” Willy said.

Patty June stared, refusing to bite.

The men began to fidget. Finally it was Carl Wayne who broke the silence.

“When were you going to let us know about Conrad?”

“I’m sorry?”

“We have a duty to the congregation, you know.”

“I suppose you do. I, however, do not.”

Titus frowned. “Seriously, Patty June, the pastor’s wife always—”

“Technically, you no longer have a pastor, and I no longer have a husband, so—”

Willy sighed. “Is he coming back?”

“Not if he knows what’s good for him,” she muttered.

“I don’t understand,” Carl Wayne said. “We thought you two were quite suited.”

“Whatever we were, we aren’t anymore. He’s been fornicating with Bobbette Paulson. He is no longer a part of my life. What else do you want to know?”

The men turned three different shades of red.

Titus sighed. “Did it not occur to you to try counseling? I mean… this puts us in a terrible position. Sunday’s coming and we are without a pastor.”

Patty June’s eyes narrowed. Had they been wise in the ways of women, they would have known that meant she was pissed. But two were divorced and the other one had never married, which made them seriously ignorant of the warning signs.

“Get out,” she said softly.

They heard her but didn’t really think she meant it.

“If the church paid for the counseling, would you consider taking him back?” Willy asked.

Patty doubled up her fists. “Get out of my house,” she repeated.

“Titus is right. We are in a terrible position here, and your marriage vows
were
for better or worse,” Carl Wayne added.

“I cannot believe two divorcés and an old bachelor are trying to give me marriage advice! My husband fucked a whore on a regular enough basis that I considered killing him. Were it not for my faith in God and my adherence to the
Thou
shalt
not
kill
rule, he would be dead and I would be in jail. Whatever happens at that church, I will no longer be a part of it. I was raised a Methodist. I will be returning to that church to worship. You three have outstayed your welcome!” She strode to the door and yanked it wide. “It wasn’t enough that my husband has betrayed me, but you three have just added insult to injury. Get out of my house!”