Pastor Needs a Boo (7 page)

Marsha Metcalf was one of the members who loved Reverend Boudreaux but found herself liking the brand-new pastor a lot. As much as she didn't want to admit it, Marsha secretly thought the good Reverend Flowers was funny, smart, handsome, and one of the best-dressed preachers in the First Episcopal District of the Gospel United Church.

She didn't talk to Denzelle a lot during his early years at New Jerusalem. For starters, she was still married to Rodney. Then Rodney left and upped and died. At that point, Marsha and Denzelle began to talk more. There were times when the two of them would get to talking and laughing with one another and end up finishing each other's sentences. Then Denzelle would suddenly remember that he was getting too comfortable with just being himself with a woman, push Marsha away, and run from her like she was the carrier of a highly contagious and deadly plague.

Marsha wanted to haul off and slap the black off of Denzelle when he did that to her. She'd be kind to that boy, and then he'd act and talk all stank and rude, like he didn't have any home training. It didn't make sense to act like that toward someone who didn't do anything to you but treat your stank-butt right. Denzelle just didn't know how many times Marsha came close to laying down her saved card, forgetting herself, and cussing him out so badly someone would have to take her to the hospital when she finally got through.

Marsha flipping off on the pastor wouldn't be the worse thing Denzelle could experience at New Jerusalem, however. The now famous Friday night service still topped the chart for “Church Services Gone Wild.” That service had gotten so out of hand, it pushed Denzelle to the point of breaking down on the altar of his own church—confessing and repenting of a problem he had struggled with for most of his ministry. From that point on the pastor was a model preacher and truly delivered of his weakness for a pretty face and a big, black-girl butt.

Only problem was that the pastor was now so good, some members feared he was about to turn into some kind of crunked version of a preaching eunuch and start acting like Reverend Larry Pristeen up in Asheville, North Carolina. While the congregation was relieved the pastor wasn't hittin' and quittin' it with the resident loose booty in the church, they thought he could quit acting like liking a woman was the worse thing in the world that could happen to him.

The congregation wasn't alone in its frustration with the pastor's stubborn refusal to acknowledge and admit he needed a good woman in his life. When Miss Deborah and Mr. Lester visited New Jerusalem to check on their former pastor, Mr. Lester saw Denzelle turn a cold shoulder to at least two bona fide Proverbs 31 women who spoke to him before the service began. As soon as the second Proverbs 31 woman walked away, clearly perplexed by the pastor's behavior over her doing something as normal as saying, “Good morning Reverend Flowers,” Mr. Lester tugged at Miss Deborah's purse and said, “Baby, did you see that?”

Miss Deborah curled up her lips and said, “Umm, hmm. I saw that ignorant mess, Les.”

Mr. Lester shook his head in disgust before continuing. “I get sick of some of these men walking around like they are the only people on earth who have experienced a broken heart.
Just who in the hell do they think they are?
They act like it is a federal offense to let the Lord heal their hearts of stone and bless them with some real companionship.

“Denzelle walking around here acting like he's trying to neuter his own self like that silly and self-serving Reverend Larry Pristeen up in Asheville. That brother can't even have a decent conversation with a decent woman. Has Denzelle figured out that most church folk don't want a pastor who is too stupid to find himself a good woman?”

“Probably not,” Miss Deborah answered him matter-of-factly.

“First thing Denzelle needs to do,” Miss Deborah continued saying, “is let go of his anger and resentment where his ex-wife, Tatiana, is concerned. I mean, why is he so upset over what went down between the two of them? Didn't he know that marrying a woman who fits your five- or ten-year life plan for success isn't the best criteria for picking a wife?

“Way too many men do that stupid mess. Then they get mad at the woman for not being the ‘bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh' kinda wife. And then they have the nerve to try and cop an attitude with the Lord, as if He told them to run off and do something crazy like that.”

“Well, the Lord did tell Hosea to marry that hoochie in the Bible,” Mr. Lester said.

Miss Deborah just rolled her eyes and said, “Father God, give me strength.” Then she turned to her husband and said, “Baby, does Pastor look like he a Hosea type of brother? He would have kicked Gomer's butt, and then pistol-whipped the angels trying to pull him up off of that girl.”

“You know you right about that one, Baby,” Mr. Lester said to his wife, and held out his fist for some dap. Miss Deborah tapped his knuckles with hers and kissed him on the cheek.

Mr. Lester broke out into a huge smile, and then frowned when he saw Denzelle's ex-wife, now Tatiana Hill Flowers Townsend, of all people, sashaying into the vestibule.

“What the face?”

“Lester, remember that you are saved,” Miss Deborah admonished, and then had to pray to stop from saying something other than “what the face,” when she saw Tatiana walking up in this church like she was the first lady.

“Pastor know she up in his church this morning,” Lester whispered in a very audible voice. Miss Deborah closed her eyes and gave herself a “shaking my head” moment. Lester had always whispered like a three-year-old—loud enough to be heard by anybody standing nearby.

“No, he does not,” Tatiana snapped.

She never did like Miss Deborah and her husband. They were so hood. She stared at Miss Deborah's white brocade suit with the satin collar and rhinestone buttons down the jacket that screamed “I go to church.” And if that weren't bad enough, Miss Deborah was wearing a pair of white brocade, low-heeled pumps that matched her suit.

“What you lookin' at, Tatiana?” Miss Deborah said.

“Nothing,” Tatiana replied.

“Then you must be looking at your own reflection in that window,” Miss Deborah told her, and prepared to say more but stopped when Dr. Todd Townsend, a highly paid trauma surgeon, came into the church with his car keys dangling off of his index fingers. It was clear he wanted everyone to note that he was driving a Mercedes.

“Again,” Mr. Lester began. “Does Reverend Flowers know you are here at his church with your husband?”

Tatiana cut her eyes at Mr. Lester, grabbed Todd's hand, and said, “Let's go and sit down. It's almost eleven o'clock. Denzelle is a stickler for starting service on time.”

Mr. Lester and Miss Deborah both pulled out some anointing oil. They poured a little in the palm of their hands and anointed each other. An usher opened the door leading into the sanctuary and said, “You need to come on in and sit down if you want to get in before the processional.”

Miss Deborah saw Tatiana drag Todd through her ex-husband's church, hissed air out of clenched teeth, and said, “She is a trifling piece of work.”

Denzelle hurried back to his office. He had to make some last-minute changes on the sermon and have a few quiet moments before praying with the choir to get ready for the processional. Denzelle needed to clear his head of his immediate concerns for his three recently fired members before service started.

It was terribly upsetting to learn that three of his members had lost their jobs on the same day. Denzelle had been praying about what to do every since Dayeesha gave him the full 411 on what had transpired in the lives of Marsha Metcalf, Veronica Washington, and that mouthy and feisty Keisha Jackson. Denzelle had been upset and angry when he received the news reports on Marsha and Veronica. But he had hollered with laughter when Dayeesha told him about Keisha's escapade at Eva T.

That Keisha was one of his favorite members. But the girl was definitely on some different stuff. He wished he could have been on campus that day to watch her drive all over the Athletic Department's overly manicured lawn. Everybody who knew the university's athletic director, Coach Gilead Jackson, knew he was a yard freak and that he siphoned off some of his budget to do the department's yard better than any place on campus, including the administrative building where the president's office was. And when Dayeesha told Denzelle how Keisha chased Gilead down in her little Italian Job car, he started laughing so hard, his sides hurt.

So with all that he had to handle, which included trying to figure out something that would help those three women get employed, the last person Denzelle wanted to see or be forced to deal with was his ex-wife. He was glad Mr. Lester and Miss Deborah were here this morning and that they both texted him of Tatiana's presence.

He couldn't figure out for the life of him why Tatiana wanted to come to his church, or any church, for that matter. His ex would much rather be at the spa, or sipping on some coffee while soaking in the tub. He used to have to practically drag Tatiana to church when they were married.

“Why, Lord, why?” Denzelle thought, shaking his head. “Why did that woman have to pick New Jerusalem for her yearly sojourn to church? I don't want her here, Lord. And I sho' don't want to have to look at and be nice to that idiot she's married to.”

“You okay, Rev?” the choir director asked, after having to knock on his office door several times. Something was bothering him. And she figured correctly after catching a glimpse of the pastor's ex. Plopping her wide butt on the pew of their church. She'd heard the ex was a piece of work.

“I'm fine,” Denzelle answered and hurried to put on his robe.

“You sure, Pastor?”

“Yeah,” Denzelle replied, knowing that answer was a big leap from the truth. He was anything but okay. Three members were unemployed. And now Tatiana had brought her raggedy, trifling tail up in his church with the man she left him for.

He'd been hearing about folks seeing Tatiana and Todd practically all week. Every time his phone buzzed, somebody was texting him that they had seen the Townsends at Southpoint Mall in Durham, Triangle Town Center in Raleigh, Kemp's Sea Food, The Angus Barn, and the ultimate black Durham stop, The Pan Pan Soul Food Restaurant at Northgate Mall. Whatever reason had them here this week, Tatiana obviously didn't think her trip from Winston-Salem to Durham would be complete unless she came to Denzelle's church to bug the heck out of him.

Even though Denzelle was completely over Tatiana, he still didn't want to see her sitting all up under that lame Todd in his church. It was like he told Obadiah later that day, “Man, she cheated on me. Me! No woman has ever cheated on me, Obie. They may have cussed me out and broke up with me, but they never cheated on me while they were still with me. And she cheated on me with
him
, Obie. Have you seen this brother? I mean, what does he have?”

Obadiah didn't say a word. He pulled out his credit card, bopped Denzelle up side his head, and said, “He has this. Only his is
BLACK
.”

Tatiana had timed her entrance into the sanctuary just right. She strolled down the aisle with Todd holding her arm, and plopped down in the same spot in church she occupied years ago at her ex-husband's old church.

Dayeesha Mitchell couldn't believe either one of those jokers. Tatiana seemed completely unaware that some folk were asking, “Who in the heck is she?” and others were whispering, “What is wrong with her?” And Dr. Todd Townsend was working overtime, trying to display playah credentials he knew he did not have.

Dayeesha's daddy, Dotsy Hamilton, was a stone-cold playah from back in the day. Her husband, Metro, probably wrote the manual for players under the age of forty. So Dayeesha knew what a playah looked and acted like. And this Dr. Todd character was no playah. She leaned over to her husband and whispered, “Baby, you know that sucker ain't never had a bona fide playah's card, right?”

Metro's expert, hip-hop–fashion eyes assessed the high quality of Dr. Todd's navy cashmere sports jacket, and then had to close them to stop the visual pain caused by his very expensive beige pants that had a cuff that didn't hang long enough over those brown shoes, with their thick soles. He prayed that the shirt and tie were better but sadly was not surprised when he saw the blue oxford shirt and the red, blue, and yellow silk tie.

“Daye-Daye, baby,” Metro whispered loudly, “they didn't even take his application for the card. Just stamped
DENIED
when it fell on the desk.”

He took a good long look at Dr. Todd's wife, all decked out in a gold Dolce and Gabbana suit with a black fox collar that Dayeesha had shown him on the D & G Web site, hoping he would take the hint and buy it for her. Metro had checked out that price tag, and said, “Naw, Daye Daye, we got some cash but that is too much money for that suit. Plus, I think it would look better on you in platinum.”

Dayeesha had sucked on her teeth and rolled her eyes at Metro. He knew good and well that a top designer suit was not coming in an array of colors. If D & G made it in gold, they meant for you to wear it in gold.

“Metro, we can buy two of those suits in cash,” was all she'd said to her very frugal husband. And his reply was, “I know, baby. But I'd like it better in platinum, and I'll tell my cousin Naye Naye to make you one. Okay?”

Metro looked at Tatiana's suit, and then at his wife's in platinum. He squeezed her hand, glad that she was just a down sister who had his back. He said, “I told you that suit would look better in platinum.”

Dayeesha laughed. Metro was right. He hadn't gotten this rich making bad calls on the fashion and merchandise sold at his store.

They both watched as Tatiana struggled to keep her composure after catching a glimpse of Dayeesha Mitchell's suit, while continuing her efforts to do a church-by on her ex-husband. She had been hearing rumors that Denzelle was kind of sweet on some little church woman who shopped at Cato's Fashions and wanted to find out who the woman was.