Pastor Needs a Boo (34 page)

“The ones who are kind of like Marsha, huh?” Denzelle said, looking like he wanted to pistol-whip Larry Pristeen.

“Well, D, not exactly a Marsha. He made a mistake when he tried to hit on her. He is also trying to pick the ones whose self-esteem is a little low. Marsha is going through and having it hard, but she feels fine about herself—even in this harsh storm. She just looked vulnerable because of her trials.”

“True that,” Denzelle answered. What Obadiah was saying made a lot of sense. Women like Marsha Metcalf could come across as being vulnerable and with low esteem because what they were going through was so hard it could wear on them. Having it hard was very hard to deal with, and it took a lot of inner strength and courage to go through. A person wouldn't always be or look at their best while in a season of having it hard.

“I wonder, Obie, if the women know that Larry doesn't have any game.”

“Oh, they know it. That's part of his appeal—he comes across as a church man who is interested in them but doesn't have any game. They think that makes him sincere.”

“I have never respected or liked a brother who gets tail by pretending he's not in the game. That is the worse kind of player,” Denzelle said.

“Yeah, he is. And Larry is not just dishonest with church women. I've discovered that he is also very calculating where the church leaders are concerned. He is working to get the Board of Bishops to promote his singles' program for the entire denomination at the Triennial Conference.

“Larry ain't about nothing but money, prestige, power, and attention. He walks around dressed in those plain, old man suits, looking all low-key and humble. That's nothing but a ruse.”

“You think Larry is planning on running for bishop, with all of this scheming and plotting he's into?”

Obie nodded and said, “Absolutely. But Denzelle, unlike Larry, folk are genuinely excited about you, and they are excited about this event. Lena said our congregation can't wait to see you dance. Marsha came up with the perfect event to get folks to see you as a fresh and different kind of candidate.”

“Well, it's definitely time for a change,” Denzelle said. That change was one of the main reasons he agreed to run in this race.

“Yes, it is,” Obadiah said. “But as popular as you are, it is going to be a nasty, low-down, and dirty fight.”

“We've had nasty fights for Episcopal seats in the past.”

“Yeah, we have. But D, we've never had to come up against folk like Luther Howard in a bishop's race.”

“Luther Howard? What in the hell is he doing messing around in a race for bishop in the Gospel United Church? Does he even go to church?”

Denzelle paced around his den for a few seconds, and then went and got his favorite piece out from under his favorite chair. He reached for a clip and was about to put it in when Obie said, “Whoa, player! You can't go out and shoot up Raleigh over that chump.”

“That
chump
is the one who made it hard for us to nail the Dinkle brothers cartel to the wall. I've wanted a piece of him for over twenty years.”

“Well, it looks like he wants a piece of you, too,” Obadiah told him. “I have it on good authority that Luther has pumped a lot of money into Xavier Franklin's campaign. He is real chummy with Marcel Brown and Sonny Washington. And get this: Word on the church parking lot has Washington and Brown in cahoots with Bishop Thomas Lyle Jefferson.”

“Now, why would they want to work with old boy?” Denzelle asked. “What in the world could that old coot offer anybody? Jefferson is slimy.”

“Yeah, he is. Lena can't stand his butt. She said that when he looks at women his eyes start twirling around, and he starts panting.”

“Like Pavlov's dog?” Denzelle asked. “Remember that dog our psychology professors were always talking about.”

“How could I forget Pavlov getting that dog to do stuff through association with that daggone bell,” Obie said, rolling his eyes.

“You think somebody rang a bell to make Bishop Jefferson pant like that every time a sister with a big booty walked by?” Denzelle asked, laughing.

“Nahh,” Obie answered. “Lena said he did that every time a big boobed sister walked by.”

“But his new wife has a big butt,” Denzelle said matter-of-factly.

“Yeah, Violetta has some sexy legs, too,” Obadiah said.

Denzelle started cracking up. He said, “Don't tell anybody, but I love Violetta's video.”

“‘Burn de House Down,'” Obie said laughing. “That is still one of the baddest music videos I've ever seen.”

“I know. Old girl was working it on that roof. Then, when she jumped off, landed on her feet, and started dancing. I was, like, work it—
work it
, baby.”

“D, you know you still got some dawg in you, right?”

“Woof, woof,” Denzelle barked, and laughed. “You know how it is. I have to keep a lil' dawg in me. And I have to keep my player's card activated. Never know when I'll need to swipe it.”

“Yeah,” Obie was saying. “You never know when you'll wanna swipe it where Marsha is concerned.”

“Why did you have to go there, Obadiah?”

“Oh, I see. It's O-ba-di-ah when I bring Ms. Marsha Metcalf into the conversation. You got it bad for that girl, D.”

“I don't have it bad for anyone,” Denzelle retorted.

“Don't get testy on me, dawg,” Obadiah replied evenly. “Personally, I don't understand why you keep running from Marsha, because she is your Ruth.”

“For the record, I don't run from a woman. And I don't have to rush and put my mark on Marsha. She is not the kind of woman a brother will chase down and try to pull in his direction.”

“That's mighty cavalier of you, my brother. Do you really think it is okay to leave Marsha on the shelf until you are ready to take her off of it? I wish the Lord would teach you a lesson about taking a blessing like a good woman for granted.”

“Why you going so hard on me, Obie?”

“Because you need to stop this mess, and quit leaving Marsha out there like that. You don't want to have regrets from playing this game.”

“Regrets? What? You think there is a risk of Marsha being in the arms of another man?” Denzelle blurted out. “She's mine. God told me Marsha was mine. I don't have to rush, because she is mine—all mine.”

Obadiah just stared at Denzelle. He was telling the truth and talking crazy at the same time. Lena told him Denzelle was in love with Marsha, and the reason that joker was acting a fool was because he knew he could get away with it.

“God told you that about Marsha? That she belonged to you.”

“Yeah,” Denzelle snapped back.

“Do you plan on letting Marsha in on this little secret? I'm sure she'd appreciate knowing you feel that way about her.”

“This is about my heart, not hers,” Denzelle said in a hard voice. “Marsha's heart is in good condition. I'm the one with the heart trouble.”

“D, don't you think it would do your heart good to be with Marsha and feel sweetness coming from her heart to yours? Plus, she's been alone for a while and needs your company, too. You are being so unbelievably selfish about this, it's downright sinful.”

Denzelle was not going on talking about this with Obadiah. He was used to being in charge, and he wasn't ready for his heart to run off and jump in Marsha's hands. It unnerved Denzelle that Marsha made him feel things inside he hadn't felt since he was a young man.

Marsha made every part (
every part
) of his body react like it had when he was in his twenties. Sometimes Denzelle couldn't even sleep for lying up in bed thinking about Marsha Metcalf and wishing she was cuddled up under him, spoon fashion. Sometimes he felt like God wanted him to go after Marsha as if there was no tomorrow. But he was too afraid and too proud to get enough sense to do this on God's and not his carefully constructed man timetable.

 

Chapter Twenty-five

“Have you seen this mess?” Veronica asked and put the engraved invitation addressed to Reverend Denzelle Flowers, Senior Pastor, New Jerusalem Gospel United Church, in Marsha's hand.

“What?” she asked with a frown. “Is it for the Singles Shouting for Jesus Festival Reverend Larry Pristeen been all over the church TV and radio stations talking about?” Larry Pristeen was getting on her last nerve, running around from church to church acting like he was the guru of all singles' ministries.

“No, not that bad,” Veronica answered. “It's Xavier Franklin. He has a super PAC for his campaign that is run ‘independently' by Luther Howard.”

Marsha took the envelope and turned it over several times She said, “I hope they haven't done a YouTube video ad talking junk about ‘I Am America.'”

Veronica started laughing and singing the “I Am America” theme song from the infamous Herman Cain presidential campaign ad that went viral. She kept singing, and then started dancing and acting like she was going to drop it like it's hot.

“Ooops, wrong commercial,” Veronica said, still laughing. “I was about to get the Cain ad confused with the drop it like it's hot soda commercials.”

Marsha pulled the engraved invitation out of the expensive, white linen envelope. She ran her fingertips over the charcoal-colored letters and said, “Luther Howard, with his unsaved and suspect self, is the head of Xavier's super PAC. And he has the audacity to challenge Denzelle to a special candidates' forum at Denzelle's own church.”

“So, what do you think
Denzelle
should do with this invitation?” Keisha asked. “You know I'll need a few weeks to pull everything together. No way Xavier, and that thang he's married to, coming up in here and we're not rolling hard like the ballers that we are.”

Marsha acted like she didn't hear Keisha's reference to her reference to Denzelle. Right now, she was too through over Xavier Franklin's attempt to horn in on all they had done with Denzelle's campaign for bishop. He was ahead of all of the candidates in the church polls, and everybody was showing up for their
Dancing with the Stars
event.

“You know this forum will be like a debate,” Veronica said. “I don't know what Xavier hopes to accomplish with this, because Denzelle will eat his tail up alive. Xavier can't handle Denzelle in a debate.”

“Wait a minute. How do you issue an invitation to someone on their own turf?” Keisha interjected. “That is so presumptuous.”

“Well, Xavier issued Denzelle this invitation as a challenge,” Veronica continued. “If we advise the pastor to refuse, it could make it appear as if he's threatened by the Franklin camp of supporters.”

“And if we accept,” Marsha said. “It'll look as if Xavier Franklin and his super PAC chair, Luther Howard, can waltz up in this church and give marching orders any time they feel like it.”

“Good point,” Keisha said. “Pastor is running for bishop and not public office. We cannot get distracted with mess. If Luther Howard wants to do a debate, then he can do one with Xavier and them at Xavier Franklin's church. We don't serve Luther Howard. This House of God serves the Lord.”

Veronica took the invitation, tore it to shreds, and threw it in the trash. “Our pastor will appreciate this decision.”

“Show you right,” Keisha said.

Marsha's cell buzzed, and Denzelle's name popped up on her plain little Walmart phone.

“Pastor's ears must be burning 'cause we're talkin' 'bout him,” Veronica said with a grin. She wondered how long Denzelle's number had been buzzin' up his name on Marsha's phone. Marsha was terrible about putting folks' names and numbers on her contact list, and now Denzelle was in a place it took most folk months to get to.

“Why don't you get a fancier cell phone, so Rev's picture can pop up when he calls you?” Keisha said.

“You better answer that, Marsha,” Veronica said with a hearty laugh. “You know how men are when their women don't answer the phone in time.”

“I heard that,” Keisha echoed, tickled at the embarrassment spreading across Marsha's face.

The phone stopped ringing right before Marsha tried to pick up on the call. It buzzed up Denzelle's name again. She hurried to flip the phone on.

“Hello,” Marsha said, as if she were trying to figure out who was on the other end of the telephone.

“Did I catch you at a bad time?” Denzelle asked in a low and sexy voice.

“No,” Marsha squeaked out.

“Are you okay, Honey?” Denzelle asked.

“Yep,” she answered, hoping she sounded more relaxed and casual than she felt.

“What time do I need to be at church?”

“It starts at eight p.m. and…”

“Baby, I know what time everything starts up,” Denzelle said. “I just want to find out when I need to be there. And do I need to pick up my tux?”

Marsha sucked up that deep breath she almost took in when Denzelle said “Baby.” And to make it worse, he had on Foxy 107.1 . She could hear the Isley Brothers' “Make Me Say It Again Girl” in the background.

Veronica and Keisha were watching Marsha so intently she feared their eyeballs were going to pop out of their heads like they were some cartoon characters. She turned away from those two so they couldn't get such a good read on her facial expressions.

“My cousin Lil' Too Too is picking up your tux. And be at the church by four-thirty p.m. I'll have something for us to eat, and we can relax before the program starts up.”

“Solid. I'll see you tomorrow afternoon around four-thirty,” Denzelle said and hung up.

He sipped on his Fiji water and whispered, “How in the world am I going to get through that dance with all of that fine hanging in my arms?”

“So, what he say?” Keisha asked, eyes all lit up like a thirteen-year-old trying to get the scoop on the boy one of her friends just got through dancing with.