Diary of a Mad First Lady (21 page)

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Authors: Dishan Washington

Tags: #General Fiction

BOOK: Diary of a Mad First Lady
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When the sermon ended and the invitation had been given, I started feeling that nervousness again. It was almost time to make my presentation. I had purposely asked that the coordinator place me last on the program. I wanted everyone to give all of their little gifts, so just when everyone thought the gift-giving was over, I would stand and present Darvin with something that nobody had ever given him before.

I listened to all of the presentations. Monetary gifts. Cruises. All expense paid vacations. Gift cards. On and on and on. It wasn’t until presentations started being made specifically for Michelle that I realized I had not even thought about her. Oh, well. It was the pastor’s anniversary, and she wasn’t the pastor. Besides, I didn’t care enough about her to spend one penny on her.

Finally, I heard the announcer call my name. I sat still for a moment, making my appearance even more dramatic, then stood and walked down the center aisle in complete runway fashion. I could feel the stares bouncing off every inch of my body. I smiled at the apparent attention I was getting. I couldn’t have imagined this moment to be any better. I went to the stage, took my place behind the podium, and picked up the microphone.

“First giving honor to God, who’s the head of my life. I give honor to my pastor, our first lady, the deacons, the deaconesses, all of the leaders of the church, and to everyone who makes us this beautiful sea of flowers in God’s sight. Church, we serve an awesome God!” I said in typical church fashion, and waited for the applause of the audience to die down before I continued. “Today is a special day as we celebrate our pastor’s anniversary. And though we should celebrate him each and every day, this is the day that we have set aside to honor him. And his wife,” I said as I looked over at Michelle for good measure, because nothing else I said would have anything to do with her.

“So, I prayed and I asked God what He would have me do for my man of God. Amazingly, God did speak to me, and He gave me clear instructions. You see, God gave me special insight to be able to know what the desire of my pastor’s heart was. He allowed me the ability to see those secret things that nobody knew about; those things that had not been spoken.”

I looked over in Darvin’s direction and could see that he was totally taken aback. The expression on his face showed a perfect mix of confusion and anticipation. On the other hand, Michelle’s appearance was too complex to describe. It was a mixture of anger, disgust, and ugliness.

“So, today, I stand before all of you, humble, yet grateful for the ability to present to my pastor—a man who I’ve watched, who gives so much of himself, yet receives so little; a man who lives the life that he preaches, and walks the walk that he talks.” I paused for a second. The crowd had begun to clap once again. I shifted my gaze to Darvin. “The man who forgave the sins of my sister and demonstrated the love of God by accepting me into his flock. The man who has made the biggest impact in my life with the sermons that he preaches—life-changing sermons, at that. Can I get a witness, church?” The church chimed in their agreements.

“So, as a symbol of my gratitude, and as a token of my love, I would ask that the church stand with me today and give honor to our chosen vessel, as I present to him the keys to a 2007 Bentley Continental GT coupe.”

Before I could get anything else out of my mouth, the church was blanketed with oohs and ahhs, whistles, and cheers. I grinned like a schoolgirl, loving every second of it.

Darvin’s shock was worth every dime I’d spent. The stare that Darvin gave me was one that I knew would tie our souls together. Forever. It was as if no one else was in the room but us.

Finally, the crowd settled down. “Just to give you an idea of the exquisiteness of this car, I would like to provide you a few details. The Bentley Continental GT coupe is unlike any sports car on the road. In case you’re wondering what that means, it simply means that it’s a real nice car.”

That statement garnered light chuckles from the audience.

“The last thing I want to say to Pastor is, I don’t know where God is going to take you in your life, but I’m sure I have some people here who would agree with me in saying that the office of bishop is somewhere in your future.” The hand claps came again. Some even stood. Boy, did this feel good. “So, I took the liberty of prophetically having your nameplate ordered with the title BISHOP on it.”

Every person, minus Michelle and the guest pastor’s wife, was standing on their feet. I smiled as I looked around at the same congregation who’d turned me away as Daphne, but today was embracing me as Dawn. My eyes focused back on Darvin as I tried to will my shaking legs to move and take him the keys. Thankfully, Darvin was headed toward me and I didn’t have to move.

He walked up to me, gave me a hug, and whispered in my ear, “Thank you so much. I will never in my life forget this day.”

I smiled, all the while looking in the eyes of a very angry Michelle. She could have spit fire at me and drowned me in hell’s flames. It’s been proven that a certain percentage of all human language was non-verbal, so she and I underwent an eye argument briefly, with my last statement being, “Top that!”

Darvin took his place at the podium after the announcer said no more presentations were listed and that his new car was parked out in front of the church. I had to ask her to announce that because when Darvin put his arms around me, all rationale, all five of my senses, and my brain quit working.

“Church, I feel overwhelmed. I’m elated today that you all have shown so much love to me and my wife. I feel as if I’m not worthy to receive such honor, but I certainly am not turning any of it down,” he said between a laugh. “I must say that I’m astonished by the last presentation. Now, I know that Mount Zion takes care of me very well, but, Ms. Carlton, if you only paid the down payment for this car, then Mount Zion is going to have to give me a raise so I can afford the payments.” More laughter followed his comment.

I took this as an opportunity to turn around and respond before finishing my walk back to my seat. “No, Pastor.” One of the ministers brought a microphone to where I was standing. “Silly me, I failed to mention that I have the title right here in my hand. It’s yours . . . no money owed.”

I was definitely going to get accustomed to the adoration by the church, because once again people were on their feet, clapping for me. I continued to walk to my seat as some people stopped me for a hug or to shake my hand.

Wow. If presenting the pastor with a Bentley awarded me this much attention, I wondered what they would say when I wrote out that big check to cover a large portion of the expenses to build the new Family Life Center.

“Ms. Carlton, I want you to know that I will cherish this gift for the rest of my life, and I do thank you for being so generous. Church, she was right. It has been a desire of my heart to own a Bentley, and I’m grateful that God has sent somebody to fulfill that desire. Touch your neighbor and tell your neighbor, ‘Don’t hate on Pastor.’ ” The church did as he asked. “Touch your other neighbor and tell them, ‘Don’t hate on Ms. Carlton.’ ” Once again the church responded accordingly.

My heart was about to explode from the joy I felt.

Instead of walking back to my seat, I walked right out of the door. My work was done. I wanted Darvin to enjoy his day free of any drama, other than what I had surely caused.

After making my way to the foyer, I turned around when I heard someone call my name.

“Daphne?” a male voice called.

Before I thought any better, I had already turned around.

“Yes?”

Standing a few feet away from me in the corner next to the church’s bookstore was a tall, handsome man that I remembered seeing at church once before.

I put on my million-dollar smile, trying to mask the nervousness I felt.

He called me Daphne. Worse than that, I acknowledged it. I tried to dismiss the feeling; it was probably an honest mistake. After all, people thought we were twins. Besides, I was sure he must have wanted to talk to me about my high-dollar presentation.

I seductively walked over to his direction. Sure, Darvin was my goal, but I didn’t have to stop flirting until I was officially Mrs. Darvin Johnson.

The man eased out into better view. The look on his face was anything but pleasant, and for some reason, my heart began racing along with the fluttering in my stomach. It was at that moment that I realized that this man could possibly know who I was. It was a chance that he knew the real me.

“So, you are Daphne Carlton? And Dawn Carlton . . .” He shook his head in disgust. “Well, well, well. You don’t look so tough now. Matter of fact, you look downright scared.” He moved closer to me. He was extremely intimidating, even for someone like me.

“Um, I answered to Daphne because I always do,” I answered nervously.

“She’s my sister, and she and I get that all of the time.” I made a gesture with my hand that waved away the notion I was indeed one in the same.

He caught my hand in mid-air with a choking grip. “Don’t play with me, Daphne,” he said in a deep, husky voice. “If you cooperate with me, no one will get hurt. If you don’t, then I’m not responsible if Mount Zion’s new prized member comes up missing.”

Terror had to be showing in my eyes, because it was occupying every space in my body. “I . . . I don’t understand. What do you want? Money?” I stammered.

“No, I don’t need your money. I wouldn’t want your filthy money if I was a homeless man living under a bridge downtown.”

I squirmed until my hand was out of his grip. I was getting upset. What did he want? “Well, what can I do for you, Mister—oh, I’m sorry, you didn’t tell me your name,” I said sarcastically.

He dropped his head in laughter. “You are a sad, sad woman, Daphne Carlton,” he said as his eyes bore into mine. “Who I am is your worst nightmare. Who I am is the only person in this church who could expose you for who you really are.”

I laughed nervously. “Whatever. I don’t have time for games. I don’t know who you are, what you’re talking about, or what you want with me.” I started moving away from him.

“I wouldn’t walk out of that door if I were you. Unless you want me to do to you what you did to my sister.”

I stopped dead in my tracks. It couldn’t be.

“You heard me. My sister. You want to know who I am?” the man asked as I heard footsteps coming toward me. “I’m Solomon Andrews, the brother of Twylah Andrews. Does the name ring a bell?”

I whirled around and glared at him. “What do you want?” I shouted in the lowest voice I could muster.

“I want to know why you killed my sister,” he said, standing so close to my face I could smell his morning’s breakfast.

“Your sister committed suicide. Everyone knows that.” My voice was practically quivering and my stomach was beginning to be upset. Could he know the truth?

“No, I believe you killed her, and I’m determined to prove it. Now, if you try to get in my way, you and I are going to have a much bigger problem.”

“Look, Mr. Andrews, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I did not kill your sister! Am I making myself clear?”

I was as scared of him as a cat is of a dog, but so angry I could have killed him, too. What evidence did he have, and what gave him the gall to threaten me with it?

“Hmph. It’s sad that you’re forcing me to go to this level with you, but before it’s over, you will wish that you’d never crawled out of your slimy hole. But I will tell you this: If you try to do anything stupid, there will be another hole with your name on it. And it’s right out there in Mount Zion’s graveyard.”

I refused to let a single tear roll down my face for fear of showing a sign of weakness.

One of the church deacons walked up to me. “Is everything all right over here?” he said, looking back and forth between me and Solomon.

I wanted so badly to scream no, but I said, “Yes, everything is fine.” I shifted nervously on my feet, hoping that the answer would satisfy the deacon.

Hesitantly, he walked away, and in the same fashion, I turned around to face the man who had managed to make me sick in all but ten minutes. How I wished this were a dream.

“Solomon—”

He interrupted. “This is not a game. This is not a dream. I’m really here to make your life a living hell, as you’ve so pointedly done for others. The same way you killed my sister and watched the life drain out of her body, I’m not going to rest until the same is done to you.”

This time, the tear escaped against my doing. How had the day turned for the worse?

Chapter Twenty-one

Michelle

 

 

If the Lord didn’t help me, I just knew I would surely fall. My grandmother used to say that all the time, but it wasn’t until today that I realized just what she’d meant.

Today was our pastor’s anniversary celebration, and I can honestly say that if I could have made myself melt, I would have poured myself down a drain. Even though I was no veteran at this, I was accustomed to the day being about Darvin, and people looking at me, trying to figure out how to acknowledge me so I wouldn’t feel out of place. But I was not used to the stunt pulled by Dawn Carlton.

The tramp had come up into my domain and had taken over. She, in a matter of minutes, had everyone in Mount Zion dancing to the beat of her music—including Darvin.

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