Diary of a Mad First Lady (25 page)

He stared into space. “She used to. Lately, we’ve been through so much, I wonder if my sermons are really ministering to her anymore. She’s been through so much being married to me. Even still, she has always been my biggest fan. I almost expect it out of her,” he said, looking into my eyes. “It’s just good to know that you’re touching someone else’s life. It helps me to know that my labor is not in vain.”

I wanted to kiss him—the force of love was almost willing me to—but I shifted slightly, and the movement highlighted Darvin’s hand on my arm, and he removed it.

“Your labor is not in vain. And anytime you need to hear or know that, you can always call on me. As a matter of fact, I hope that First Lady won’t mind sharing the cheerleading section with me, because when she gets tired, I’ll be right there to cheer you on,” I said with more meaning than he knew.

“Thanks. While that is very flattering to me, I think it would be best if you lay a little low until I figure out how to handle this. I’m going to have a talk with Michelle again. I don’t think this is anything that the three of us can’t clear up. Maybe we can get together one night at the house and talk this out. I’m sure that Michelle just has apprehension because of what Daphne put us through. But I’ll talk to her. We’ll work this out,” he said, getting up to leave.

I smiled at him. “That’s a great idea,” I said as I stood as well. We walked back through the kitchen to the living room. I slapped myself playfully in the forehead as if I’d forgotten something important. “Pastor, I know that you have to leave, but would you care for something to go? I have grape juice, water, sweet tea, and some apple juice, I think.” He looked as if he thought I was trying to come up with something to get him to stay a little longer, so I had to divert my plan.

“On second thought, why don’t I give you something to take to First Lady? I have an unopened box of brownie sundae cheesecake from the Cheesecake Factory,” I said, smiling and eliminating any shred of doubt that he might have had concerning my intentions.

He looked toward the door, possibly knowing that if he didn’t leave Michelle might think something was going on, but maybe out of some sort of obligation, he surmised that the least he could do was accept my offer.

“Oooh . . . that’s her favorite. I’m sure she would love that,” he said, walking back toward the kitchen behind me.

I smiled. “And what about you? What can I get for you?” If only he knew what I meant by that question.

“Nothing. I’m fine. I really do need to get going. We were sort of in the middle of something. We found out the sex of the baby tonight—it’s a boy,” he said proudly.

I almost tripped over my own two feet. I’m sure he could see the blood boiling in my veins. Why did he have to bring that up?

“That’s fantastic.” I tried to sound happy for him. It didn’t work. “Okay. I’ll grab the cheesecake and get you a grape juice to go. I heard it was your favorite.”

I moved to get the items from the refrigerator.

“I think I’m going to run to my room and get a gift bag for First Lady,” I said. As I turned around, I purposefully bumped into Darvin, sending grape juice flying all over the place and staining the white cotton T-shirt he was wearing. “Oh, my goodness! I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“No apologies. It was just a mistake,” he interrupted.

I hurried back to the kitchen with a smirk on my face, grabbed a dish cloth, ran some cold water on it, and tried to dab the juice from Darvin’s shirt. The feel of his chest underneath the cloth was sending hot flashes to the most sensitive areas of my body. I could only imagine what it would feel like to run my hands across his chest. And if I had my way, my little impromptu plan to spill the juice and get him to stay a little longer would yield exactly that.

Darvin must have felt a little uncomfortable. “It’s really okay. If you’ll just get that bag, I’ll be on my way.” He took the cloth from my hand and dabbed at the stains.

“Do you want me to bring you another white T-shirt? I would hate for you to go home with grape juice all over yourself. If Michelle already has a problem with me, what will she think if you went home like this?” I asked as I pointed to his shirt. “How would you explain that?”

He looked at me, and I knew he had not thought about that. It wasn’t like it was a big deal, but he knew it would be to Michelle. He looked down at his shirt and back to me. “Is the shirt exactly like this one?”

“Just like it. My brother left one the last time he was here,” I lied. The truth was, I had been buying small items and keeping them at my house, because I already anticipated the day that he would spend the night with me. I had underwear in his size, socks, T-shirts, pants, shirts, and a couple of hats, some shaving cream, a razor, and other toiletries that an overnight male guest might need.

“Okay, well, I guess that would be a good idea.”

I grinned. “All right, give me one second and I’ll grab that and the bag.”

I rushed to my room to grab the items. While in there, I refreshed my makeup and spritzed some perfume on my neck and behind my ears. I pushed my bra up to make my breasts perk up a little out of my sweater, took a book from the nightstand, and hit the side of the wall.

“Are you okay?” I heard Darvin ask from the living room.

“Not exactly,” I said, sounding as if I were really hurt.

“What happened?” he yelled.

“I ran into my dresser trying to hurry back. I think I sprained my ankle,” I said as loud as I could. The living room was close to the bedroom, but far enough so that you had to speak at a decent volume to be heard.

“Do you need any help?”

“Would you mind? I can’t seem to move,” I said.

Silence. Finally, I heard footsteps coming toward my bedroom. Darvin peeked around the corner as if the flames of hell would consume him if he walked any further. Seeing me on the floor, he said again, “Are you okay?”

I laughed. “Yes, Pastor, I’m fine. I might need you to help me get up.”

Just as I said that, his cell phone buzzed.

“Excuse me one second. This is First Lady calling me.”

I tried to smile, but Michelle really had bad timing. I was finally getting my way, and she was interfering.

“Hello?” he said. “Hey, baby. Yes, I know. I’m on the way back over to the house.” Pause. “Yes. Well, in just a few minutes. Dawn fell, and I think she sprained her ankle. I’m going to help her off the floor and I’ll be right home.”

He paused. “Michelle, please. What do you want me to do, walk out and leave her on the floor?” he asked, patience sounding thin. “She fell trying to get something for you.” He turned his back to me. “We will talk about this when I get home. What could I possibly be doing, especially across the street from my house?” He paused again. “Okay, like I said, we will talk about this when I get home,” he whispered loudly.

He hung up the phone and turned back toward me with a half-crooked smile on his face. “Sorry about that. Let me just help you up so that I can be on my way.”

He reached down and practically lifted me from the floor. I allowed myself to fall limp into his arms and enjoyed being carried by him to my bed, even if it was only three steps. He sat me down, kneeled to the floor, and examined my ankle.

“I think you’ll be fine. I don’t think you sprained it either. I’ve had many sprained ankles in my college football days, and yours doesn’t look like one. Just wrap it up and you should be good to go.”

The examination had ended too soon. That darn Michelle. “Thanks, Pastor. I really appreciate all of your help.” I saw the T-shirt that I’d gotten for him lying on the corner of the bed. “Oh. Here’s the shirt,” I said as I leaned over to get it. “Do you still want to change?” Seeing a little hesitation cross his face, I said, “I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation with First Lady, and I don’t think I need to reiterate that you need to get out of that shirt before you head home.”

He took the shirt from my hand. “You’re right. I’ll just go in here and change and I’ll be on my way.” He walked out of the door, but came back almost immediately. “Do I need to lock up for you on my way out?”

I slowly stood on my ankle, not wanting to give away the fact that I had not the slightest pain anywhere in my body, including my ankle.

“I think I can get it,” I said as I hopped to the door.

I pretended to stumble a little bit, and Darvin was at my side almost immediately.

“I really think you should get back into bed. If you follow me all the way back to the front door, I’m not so sure that you’ll be able to get back in here without hurting yourself.”

“That’s sweet, Pastor, but I have to go back in there anyway. I have to clean up that grape juice that I knocked out of your hand, and besides that, I haven’t eaten anything tonight. I am going to make a sandwich and then go to bed.”

“If you say so. But let me help you at least get to the kitchen.”

I locked arms with Darvin and hopped into the kitchen. The walk there put an image in my head of our future wedding day. One day we would lock arms and never have to part. And Lord, what a day it would be.

“I really hate to leave you like this, but I have to get home. I’m just going to change this shirt. Can I step back into your bedroom?”

You can get into my bed if you want,
I wanted to say.

“Sure. And don’t think anything of having to leave me. When you’re single, you get accustomed to fending for yourself. And I’ve been single for quite some time now,” I said as I smirked. I wasn’t single by choice. I was waiting on him.

“You’ll meet someone. Just give it time. Your knight in shining armor will appear and you’ll forget about all of your lonely days and nights,” he said and disappeared.

I grabbed the cloth just as the doorbell rang. I glanced toward the door.

For the second time tonight, I had a visitor. And since Darvin was here, this other person was not welcome. I wanted to savor what few minutes I had left with him without being disturbed.

I set down the cloth. The doorbell rang again. I was getting pissed. No one ever came to see me. No one knew where I lived. I hurried past the entranceway to my bedroom. I didn’t want Darvin to see that I was practically running, but I wanted to get rid of whoever it was so that I could get back to spending time with my man.

I flung the door open without looking again, and for the second time that night, I was speechless.

“Where is my husband?” Michelle demanded to know as she pushed her way past me and into the house. She had fury in her eyes that suggested that everything in her path would be destroyed if put in her way.

However, she had yet again underestimated me. No real scandalous diva, would allow such a prized moment to escape. “He’s in my bedroom. . . changing,” I said, as I walked toward my kitchen.

“Changing what?” Michelle asked.

“His clothes,” I said with no emotion.

“Since when does my husband have clothes at your house?” She paused for a second as if a light bulb came on. “What is going on between you and my husband?”

I gently laughed at Michelle’s incredulous accusation. She was really sad.

“Why don’t you ask him what’s going on? I’m not married to you; therefore, I owe you no explanation.”

Michelle pursed her lips together into a thin line. “You’re right. Where is he?”

“Again, he’s in my bedroom,” I said, smiling. The night was turning out better than I could have ever planned.

Michelle’s mouth flew open. Her worst nightmare was coming true. She thought her husband was cheating on her with her sworn enemy.

At that moment, Darvin came out of the back, tucking in his shirt and saying, “Thanks for the shirt. I don’t know how I would have gone home with the other shirt on. Michelle would have killed me.”

It was then that he saw her.

“I’m not going to kill you. It would do you a favor. I’m going to leave you, Darvin,” she said just above a whisper. “I’ve had enough.”

“Michelle . . .”

She threw her hands up. “Please, don’t try to explain, because I don’t care to hear another explanation. I’m tired of your explanations. I’m tired of having to always understand your explanations. I’m tired all the way around. It’s over, Darvin,” she said as she turned to walk out of the door.

He ran after her, took her by the arm, and swung her back around. “You don’t mean that. I was just—”

Darvin was once again interrupted.

“I do mean it. I’m so, so tired,” she said through tears. “I’m tired in my spirit.” She made her point by pointing to a place on her chest as if it held the treasure of her soul. “I can’t take it another day.” She took her hand and ran it down his face. “I’ve tried, and I’ve concluded that I’m not cut out for this. My expectations, my needs—everything—are so different from what’s needed to be your wife, or the wife of any pastor. So, I bow out. I bow out gracefully.” She gazed at me, and then, in the same manner in which she spoke, she walked out of the door. Darvin stood watching her walk away.

I released a breath that I’d been holding in as I witnessed the moment that I’d been waiting for take place in my living room. My job had been done.

Michelle had released Darvin, and now he was free to be mine. The feeling I felt was nothing short of amazing. She had handed him over to me right in my own house. I couldn’t believe it. She must have really been fed up to give me that satisfaction.