Jezebel (6 page)

“My cousin used to tell me that Mayville had some beautiful women there, but I never saw anyone who looked quite like you in that town.”

Atkinson was clearly flirting with her. Jessie Belle scanned the room, looking for her husband.

He was talking to Cynthia.

Jessie Belle didn't miss the way she kept eyeing Traynor like he was her favorite dessert. Nor the way Cynthia kept touching his arm when she laughed.

That tramp thinks she's slick, but I'm on to her game
.

“You should probably join your date,” Jessie Belle told Atkinson.

He followed her gaze. Grinning, he asked, “You're not jealous, are you?”

Jessie Belle didn't change her expression. “I have no reason to be jealous. When I get ready to leave this house, my husband will be with me.”

Chuckling, Atkinson made his way across the room to where Traynor was held captive.

Atkinson leaned down to whisper something in Cynthia's ear.

Jessie Belle smiled when she glanced in Cynthia's direction, clearly surprising the woman. Taking a sip of her lemonade, she strolled over to where they were standing.

“Your husband is
soo
funny,” Cynthia murmured when Jessie Belle joined them.

“My husband is a lot of things,” she responded. “But what I admire most about him is that he's like David, a man after God's own heart. He's a good man and I feel very blessed because this handsome man is mine.” Jessie Belle slipped her arm around Traynor's waist.

She ignored the look of amusement in Atkinson's eyes.

“Honey, I'm feeling kind of tired. Why don't we go home?” Jessie Belle suggested. She boldly gave him a wink.

Traynor's eyebrows rose in mild surprise. Breaking into a smile, he said, “Maybe we should call it a night.”

Stealing a peek at Cynthia, she said, “After all, we're still on our honeymoon.”

Jessie Belle almost laughed at the flash of anger displayed briefly in Cynthia's eyes.

She and Cynthia would never be friends. That much was clear to Jessie Belle. She couldn't have a relationship with someone she didn't trust.

Jessie Belle didn't care, because she didn't want a man-hungry tramp in her life. This woman would try to steal her husband as soon as look at her and Jessie Belle wasn't having any of that.

“I was wondering when you were gonna get your husband away from Cynthia,” Mary Ellen whispered when Jessie Belle went to say goodbye. “I didn't invite her—another one of the neighbors mentioned the dinner to her. I'm so sorry.”

“Oh, no…you don't have to apologize. I can handle women like Cynthia. She doesn't bother me—I'll never have to worry about another woman when it comes to Traynor.”

“I'm not so sure I could say that about Richard. Don't get me wrong—he's a good guy and our marriage is good—but he is a
man
.”

“Traynor would never betray me,” Jessie Belle insisted. “It's not in his blood.”

A
lthough they didn't have a whole lot in common, Jessie Belle and Mary Ellen became fast friends and began spending time together.

Traynor was at the church Monday through Friday, so Jessie Belle spent most of her days decorating, keeping the house clean and planning delicious meals for her husband.

When she tried new recipes, Jessie Belle would call Mary Ellen to come over and sample them before she served the dishes to Traynor.

“Hey, are you busy?” she asked as soon as her friend answered the telephone.

“No,” Mary Ellen responded. “I just finished the last load of laundry and it's in the dryer. What's going on?”

“If you haven't had lunch, come over. I made lasagna.”

Mary Ellen squealed with delight. “Girl, I love me some lasagna.”

“This is my first time ever making it, so I hope it turned out okay. I usually do baked spaghetti or ziti—never tried lasagna until now.”

“I'll be over there shortly,” Mary Ellen said before hanging up.

Smiling, Jessie Belle took two plates down and set them on the counter. She then warmed up a couple of slices of garlic bread.

Twenty minutes later, Mary Ellen was knocking on the door.

Jessie Belle stepped aside to let her in.

Making small talk, they headed straight to the kitchen, located in the back of the house.

“How was your workday?” Jessie Belle inquired.

“Okay. I'm only there part-time right now. I've been looking for a job with another station—hopefully something will come through soon.”

Jessie Belle and Mary Ellen sat down at the dining room table to eat lunch.

“This looks delicious, Jessie Belle.”

“I really hope it tastes as good as it looks. I tried to follow my mother's directions, but I couldn't read some of her handwriting.”

Picking up her fork, Mary Ellen uttered, “Well, I love me some lasagna, so I'll let you know if you did it right. I'm the lasagna queen…. Vegetarian, meat, chicken lasagna—I've had it all.”

Jessie Belle responded, “That's why I invited you over for lunch. I wanted to do a test run.”

Mary Ellen sampled the pasta dish.

While Jessie Belle waited for a response, she tapped her foot rhythmically on the linoleum floor.

Mary Ellen released her from her misery. “Ooh, this is delicious.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Jessie Belle, you did a good job, but I'm not surprised. You're a wonderful cook. Everything I've tasted is good. In fact, I want your mother's recipe for this lasagna.”

Jessie Belle grinned with pleasure. “I hope Traynor's reaction is the same as yours. I want him to be proud of my cooking skills. That's one way to keep your man, you know?”

“It's so refreshing to see someone so happy and in love,” Mary Ellen stated with a laugh. “You and Traynor remind me of Richard and me when we first got married.”

“You and Richard aren't having problems, are you?”

Mary Ellen shook her head no. “We're fine. Our marriage is good, but Richard—he's a smart man, but he isn't what I call a go-getter. He settles and it drives me up the wall sometimes.”

Jessie Belle wiped her mouth with the edge of her napkin. “Have you talked to him about it?”

“I've tried, but Richard's not a man you can just push around. I have to let him move to his own beat.”

“I don't know if I could be satisfied with that,” Jessie Belle admitted. “Traynor is a gifted pastor and I refuse to let him settle for anything less than he deserves.” She changed the subject. “Mary Ellen, what is there to do around this town? Traynor and I haven't done anything or gone anywhere since we got married.”

“Richard and I go to this little jazz club in Buckhead called LaBelle's Jazz and Supper Club. As a matter of fact, we're going there tonight. Why don't you and Traynor come with us?”

“That would be great. We need a night out.”

“You'll enjoy it. They have a live band and everything.”

“I've never seen a live band,” Jessie Belle stated. “Where I come from, they had little holes-in-the-wall where they played records. There was this one place, Sugar's Spot—that was the hangout, but my daddy didn't like me going there. He called it a place of ill repute. I used to sneak out at night and go there sometimes.”

“I was a party animal, girl,” Mary Ellen said with a laugh. “My parents were always throwing parties, so I guess I got it honest.”

Jessie Belle sipped some of her iced tea and finished off her food. “I know what I wanted to tell you. You wouldn't believe what Cynthia tried to pull yesterday. She ran across the street as soon as Traynor's car pulled into the driveway. She wanted him to hang some light fixtures.”

Her mouth dropped open. “She what?” Mary Ellen asked. “Why didn't she ask her boyfriend?”

“That's what I went out there and suggested. I told her that the only lights my husband's changing is his own.”

“That woman is something else,” Mary Ellen uttered.

“I may be married to a preacher and be the daughter of one, but I've never been much into sharing. That girl will get hurt if she's trying to mess with my husband.”

“Girl, I know what you mean. I already done told Cynthia—I will beat her down if she comes near Richard. He don't do lights either.”

The sound of the telephone ringing cut through their conversation.

Laughing, Jessie Belle answered the phone on the third ring. “Hey, honey.”

“What's so funny?” Traynor questioned.

“Mary Ellen and I are sitting here talking. We just had lunch together.”

“Sounds like you two are having a good time.”

“We are,” Jessie Belle confirmed. “How's your day going?”

“Good.”

Mary Ellen eased up from the table and carried the plates to the kitchen. “I'll let myself out,” she whispered.

Nodding, Jessie Belle waved. She followed her friend to the front door to make sure it was locked behind her.

“Traynor, let's go out tonight. I'm tired of sitting in this house,” she complained. “We've been here in Atlanta for three weeks now. I want to do something besides church activities.”

“Like what, sweetheart? What would you like to do?”

“Mary Ellen was telling me about this jazz club on Peachtree. We could go there and listen to a live band. I've never heard a real band before. She and Richard are going there tonight.”

Shaking his head, Traynor told her, “I'm a man of God, Jessie Belle. I can't be seen in places like that.”

“You don't have to drink anything, for goodness' sake. We're just going to listen to the music.”

“Sweetheart, I can't even let the appearance of sin taint my ministry. I could order a Coke or even a glass of water, but from a distance—it would look like rum and Coke, or gin and tonic….”

“But it won't be alcohol,” Jessie Belle argued. “Traynor, this is crazy. You can't go out and listen to a live band because somebody might think you're in there drinking—that's what you're telling me.”

“I'm sorry.”

Jessie Belle was furious. “I never cared what people thought of me. As long as I know what I'm doing and God knows—it doesn't matter about a bunch of judgmental hypocrites. People are going to think whatever they choose.”

Traynor tried to explain his position, but she wouldn't listen. “I don't want to hear it. All I wanted to do was spend a nice evening out with you and our friends….”

“Why don't we just go to dinner?”

Ignoring his suggestion, Jessie sighed. “I cooked dinner,” she replied stiffly. “I spent all morning making this lasagna for you.”

“I'll make it up to you,” he promised.

“Whatever…”

Jessie Belle slammed down the telephone.

She was still angry with Traynor when he got home three hours later. He'd probably come home early just to make up with her, but Jessie Belle wasn't interested.

“I was thinking that maybe we could catch a movie later after we eat,” he said.

“I've already eaten,” Jessie Belle snapped. “I left a plate of lasagna on the stove for you. I'm not interested in seeing a movie. I'm going to take a nice long bath and go to bed.”

“Sweetheart…”

“No, Traynor. I'm not in the mood to hear about the rules and regulations of a preacher. I grew up with a preacher, remember? Only my daddy appreciated good music from time to time. He didn't worry about the musings of other folk.”

“Your daddy is a good man, Jessie Belle. I know that, but he lives in a small town—a place where everybody knows each other. Atlanta is a big city—it's different here and I'm new at this church. I have to live a lifestyle beyond reproach, sweetheart. So do you.”

“What are you trying to say?” Jessie Belle demanded. “Are you saying that I don't?”

Traynor sighed. “Honey, I don't want to fight with you. I really didn't mean to upset you.”

He looked so sad at the moment that Jessie Belle regretted her anger. “Traynor, I'm the one who should be apologizing. I shouldn't be carrying on so about a jazz club. It's not that important.”

“If it wasn't a place where drinking was going on—Jessie Belle, I wouldn't have a problem taking you there.”

“I know, baby,” she murmured.

Jessie Belle walked over to Traynor and embraced him. “I love you.”

He kissed her. “I love you, too.”

“Since you won't take me to a jazz club—will you at least sing to me?” Jessie Belle removed his jacket and his tie. She began to unbutton his shirt. “The catch is that you have to do it with your clothes off.”

Singing softly, Traynor picked her up and carried her to their bedroom.

Jessie Belle was surprised to see Cynthia and Atkinson in church on Sunday morning.

“I didn't know you were members here at Ninth Street Baptist Church. You never mentioned it when we were at Mary Ellen's.”

Jessie Belle couldn't help but wonder why Traynor never mentioned it. “Does my husband know?”

“He should,” Cynthia answered. “I was one of the first people he met when he first got here.”

“The truth is that we wanted to surprise you,” Atkinson responded. “I have to tell you. Your husband has broken some hearts here—a lot of mothers had their eyes on him for a potential son-in-law.”

Jessie Belle smiled. “Well, he's off the market now.”

“From the looks of it, Pastor found a pot of gold.” He stood there and stared with longing at her.

Cynthia bristled but said nothing.

Atkinson clearly had no respect for Traynor or for Cynthia, even with her by his side glaring holes into him.

He was a bold one for sure.

Jessie Belle excused herself and took a seat in the second pew off the center aisle. She wanted to sit right where Traynor could see her.

His sermon held her captive.

Traynor's topic this morning was “Free at Last.”

“We as Christians are free,” he began. “We became free when Jesus Christ died, but we had to accept it….”

Jessie Belle cast her eyes around the sanctuary, noting the expressions on the faces of the church members. They were enthralled by Traynor.

She was so proud of him.

“I meant to tell you earlier that you sho' looking pretty today, Mrs. Deveraux,” Atkinson Bradford complimented when she walked out of the church after Sunday morning service ended.

Jessie Belle gave him a big smile. “Why, thank you, Deacon Bradford. I'm so glad to see that someone notices my efforts, although I truly doubt the sincerity of your words. You never intended to compliment me in front of your girlfriend.”

“Oh, I notice,” he responded. “A gorgeous woman like you is hard to miss. And as for me and Cynthia, she and I don't use words like that to define our relationship.”

“Right.” Jessie Belle felt the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stand to attention. Her eyes quickly took in her surroundings.

Standing a few yards away was Cynthia, and from the looks of it, she'd been watching her exchange with the handsome deacon. She was practically green with envy.

Loud enough for Cynthia to hear, Jessie Belle said, “Deacon, it was nice talking to you. I'll have to share this with Traynor.”

“Huh?”

“Your girlfriend's right over there,” Jessie Belle muttered in a low voice before moving on. “I can't imagine you with someone so insecure. She's been following you around and watching you like a hawk.” Pulling at her own collar, she added, “It must be so stifling for you. Are you allowed to even breathe on your own?”