The Preachers Son (17 page)

“Married!” I shouted once, but the word kept repeating itself over and over in my mind.
Terrance can’t be married. He’s supposed to marry me
.

“Donna, you aw’ight?”

I could hear Shorty talking, but I could barely comprehend what he was saying. I was so dazed by what I’d just heard. My brother had just unknowingly informed me that my boyfriend, the love of my life and the father of my unborn child, who had gone down South for a wedding last week, had actually returned as the groom. I was in such a state of shock that I couldn’t think straight. My entire body was numb. To make matters worse, it was just a matter of seconds before my legs would give out from under me and I’d be sprawled out on the floor. Thank God Shorty was behind me and grabbed my arm to hold me up.

“Hey, little sister, you okay?” This time it was Dante’s voice I heard, but I still couldn’t fully understand what he was saying. My thoughts were too cluttered and preoccupied with the fact that Terrance had gotten married. I felt like I was dying and my mind and spirit were moving further and further from my body. I’d heard people say that they’d seen their life flash before them when they thought they were going to die. Well, I might not have been physically dead, but my life with Terrance was, and I’d just seen the last six months of my life flash before me.

How could he do this? How the hell could he do this to me?
I wondered as my legs finally gave out on me.
He said he loved me.

“Oh my God, Donna! Donna! Go get the bishop!” Dante screamed at Shorty, and like smelling salts, the mention of my father’s name gave life to my wobbly legs and snapped me out of my fog.

“No, Shorty,” I said sternly, placing my hand on Dante’s shoulder as I struggled to maintain my balance. “I’m, I’m all right.”

“No you’re not. Look at you. You’re as white as a ghost. I’m taking you to the emergency room.” He took hold of my other arm and tried to guide me toward the door but I resisted.

“I said no, Dante. I’m just a little weak. It’s probably just morning sickness,” I lied.

“You sure you’re all right?” Shorty still had his hand on my other arm.

“I’m fine,” I told them, pulling my arms free from their grasp. I was still wobbly but I tried to put on the best front that I could, sucking in a deep breath as I stepped in the direction of the recreation room.

“Where you going?” Shorty asked. His voice was full of panic and I’m sure it was not because he thought I was going to pass out. He thought I was going to confront Terrance, and he was absolutely right. “I thought you wanted to leave.”

“I do, but didn’t you hear Dante? He said Reverend Reynolds just got married.” My voice was dripping with sarcasm. “I can’t leave without paying my proper respects.”

“Donna, I don’t think that’s such a—”

I pushed the recreation room door open before Shorty could finish his sentence. I really didn’t give a damn what he or Dante thought at this point. I no longer felt numb or helpless. The only emotion I felt was anger, and I was going to make sure that bastard Terrance and the bitch he married knew exactly how angry I was. At least that was the plan I had when I stepped into the crowded recreation room and scanned for Terrance.

I completely froze when I spotted him in the back of the room standing next to my parents, shaking hands and kissing cheeks. Next to him was a woman about my height who I assumed was the woman he married because of the arm she occasionally rested on his shoulder. Her back was turned to me so I couldn’t see her face. It was killing me because I desperately wanted to see if she was prettier than me.

“Donna, you don’t have to do this. He’s not worth it.” Shorty had just walked up next to me. Dante was coming through the door when a member of the congregation stopped to chat with him.

“I can’t let him get away with this, Shorty,” I whispered. I was trying to hold back tears. “I’m carrying his child, and if I have to have an abortion or raise this baby alone, I’m going to make sure he, his wife, and the whole church knows he’s the father.”

“Donna? What the hell is going on?” Dante asked. He had just stepped into listening range so I doubted he heard what Shorty and I had been talking about, which was good. I wanted him to hear it at the same time as everyone else.

“You really wanna know, big brother? Then follow me.”

I began a purposeful stride toward Terrance. Each step was more painful than the last, and the closer I got, the angrier I became until I was only a few feet away and realized I was about to make a fool out of myself. Sure, I could embarrass Terrance and the dumb-ass bitch he married, but in the end I was the one who was going to look stupid because I was the one who was pregnant by a married man.

I decided to leave and seek my revenge in other ways. The only problem was I’d just been seen by my parents. My mother was eyeing me like she was a sniper and I was caught in her crosshairs. The bishop actually called my name, which of course made Terrance and everyone else in the vicinity turn my way.

Funny thing is, when we made eye contact, I had to admit to myself he was still the best-looking man I’d ever seen, and I loved him. Somehow in my anger I expected him to be ugly or look less attractive to me, but when I saw him, that was so far from the truth, it hurt even more. He looked better than ever and had the nerve to be wearing the same blue suit he was wearing the last time we made love in his office.

“Donna. How are you?” Terrance tried to act as if he weren’t surprised. I’m sure nobody but Shorty and I were even paying attention, but the look on his face as we stood eye to eye told me inside he was terrified that I was going to blow up his spot. Somehow I took satisfaction in that.

“I’m fine, Reverend Reynolds. I hear congratulations are in order. My brother tells me you just got married.” I turned my head to the woman standing next to him. One thing was for sure, she was not prettier than me. She was what my grandmother would call a handsome woman. But along with that came confusion. Why would he choose her when he could have had me? Was she better in bed than me? Did she give him anal sex? What the hell was it this manly looking heifer had that I didn’t?

“Ah, yes.” I could tell he was nervous, but he managed to say, “Donna, this is my wife, Shawna. Shawna, this is Donna Wilson, Bishop Wilson and First Lady Wilson’s daughter.”

“Pleased to meet you, Donna.” She offered her hand and I reluctantly took it.

“The pleasure is all mine, Shawna. I hope we can become friends. We probably have a lot in common.” I glanced at Terrance with a smirk.

“Oh, I would just love that. I used to live around here, but I’ve been gone so long that I don’t have any friends in New York anymore.” She was so clueless it was sickening.

“You don’t? Well, you just consider me your new best friend. I’d love to show you around New York.” I turned toward Terrance. “You don’t mind if I hang out with your wife, do you, Reverend?”

My father smiled, obviously proud of his daughter’s kind offer. Terrance, on the other hand, didn’t appreciate my sarcastic suggestion, and he shot back with a jab of his own. “No, I don’t mind at all. But it’s too bad you’re single because we’ll probably be spending most of our free time with other couples. Isn’t that right, honey?”

“Well, isn’t that a coincidence? Me and my fiancé are looking for another couple to hang out with. I guess we’re going to be spending a lot more time together than you thought, huh, Reverend?”

“Fiancé?” Terrance snapped. He managed to regain his composure quickly, though, so I was probably the only one who noticed that my announcement had upset him.

“Yes. Fiancé.” I grinned. “I’m getting married.”

“You are?” Terrance was the one who asked the question, but I could hear gasps from the other people around me, including my father and Shorty.

“Yep, in a few weeks. You’re not the only one who can get married, Reverend.” I tried to make it sound like a joke to the other people around, but Terrance knew my words were meant to wound him.

“Who are you marrying?” Terrance asked with feigned interest, but I could hear the anger in his question and it was exactly what I had hoped he would feel.

“Yes, who are you marrying?” the bishop finally interjected when his initial shock wore off enough for him to speak.

I turned to my father then reached out and took Shorty’s arm, smiling at my mother smugly. “I’m marrying Shorty.”

Donna and I had been summoned into the bishop’s office right after she made the stunning announcement that the two of us were getting married. Her news had gotten her the desired effect—it made Reverend Reynolds take notice, but now we were the ones in the spotlight. Donna’s announcement had not only shocked her family, it had surprised the hell out of me, too, since she’d been so adamantly against the idea of marrying me when I brought it up that morning. Not that I was complaining. I’d been in love with her for as long as I could remember. I just didn’t know whether to jump for joy or to expect somebody to tap me on the shoulder and holler “April Fools!” Of course I was hopeful when it came to Donna, but I wasn’t stupid. I knew this whole marriage thing was probably just some desperate scheme for her to get back at Reverend Reynolds, but I loved her. If there was any chance of us being together, I was willing to take the risk. I’d just forgotten that dealing with her family was part of that risk.

“Shorty, are you the father of Donna’s baby?” Bishop Wilson asked, glaring across his mahogany desk with contempt. I’m not gonna lie. The way he was staring at me made me more than a little nervous. This was a man who had been more like a father figure to me than a religious figure, and here he was thinking I’d impregnated his daughter. If I were him, I would’ve jumped over that desk to strangle me already.

I glanced at Donna. She reached over from the chair next to me and grabbed my hand, squeezing it tight. I knew she wanted me to say I was the baby’s father, but I just wasn’t quite sure I could do it. The bishop had practically raised me. On more than one occasion he’d called me his second son. He’d been there for me ever since I was a kid, and that meant a lot to me, especially since my pops walked out on us when I was a kid. If it weren’t for the bishop looking out for me, I’d probably be in jail or maybe even worse. Hell, he even helped me get my new job working for the Sanitation Department as a garbageman. He really showed me what being a man was about, so the last thing I wanted to do was just straight up lie to his face, even for the woman I loved.

“Shorty—” I’m sure he was about to ask me the question again, but Donna cut him off, answering for me.

“Yes, Bishop, he’s the father.” Donna said it so convincingly that if I didn’t know better, I might have believed her myself.

“Dear Lord. God, why are you torturing us so?” First Lady Wilson, always the dramatic one, cried out from her place beside the bishop. It was obvious she had a much bigger problem with us than he did.

“No one is torturing you, Mother. I’m the one who’s going to marry him, not you. Why can’t you be happy for us?” Donna’s words actually made me feel good. For the first time since her announcement, I felt a glimmer of hope that our marriage was a real possibility.

“Because he’s trifling!” First Lady Wilson shouted. “I can barely tolerate him as your brother’s friend. I will not have him as a son-in-law. He will not humiliate me with his trifling behavior and neither will you.”

She was talking as if I weren’t even in the room. In truth, I wished I was somewhere else, because I hated the fact that I couldn’t defend myself.

Donna let go of my hand and stood. “It’s always gotta be about you, doesn’t it, Mother? Well, here’s a little news flash: it’s too late. You said you wanted me to marry my baby’s father.” She pointed at me. “Well, here he is, and we’re engaged to be married. Or would you rather I had an abortion? It don’t much matter to me.”

The room fell silent as Donna looked at her mother then her father and back to her mother. The two women stared at each other, neither one saying a word. The tension was heavy in the air. Things were about to get personal, real personal.

“You do not want to go there,” the first lady said coldly as she shook her head.

“No, Mother.
You
don’t wanna go there.” Donna’s words sounded strangely like a threat. “Now, I’m marrying Shorty whether you like it or not. You better get used to it, because the two of us are gonna be at the Sunday dinner table humiliating you for years to come.”

“Who are you talking to? I know you’re not talking to me. I brought you into this world and the Lord knows I will take you and that trifling son of a—”

She stopped herself before she started cursing like a rapper. She looked like she was going to bust a gasket as she glared at Donna, then at me. She finally looked like she might calm down when the bishop reached up and took hold of her hand, patting it gently.

“Relax, Charlene. Shorty and Donna are going to have enough problems trying to raise a family and go to school. They don’t need our insults. They need our support.”

The bishop stood and brushed his suit off then came out from around his desk. He smiled gently at Donna. That smile melted a lot of the tension in the room. “Is this what you want? Is this what you really want, to marry Shorty?” he asked.

Donna hesitated, then nodded.

The bishop turned and said to me, “Well, Shorty, it looks like you and Donna have put us all in quite a situation.”

“Yes, sir, and I’m sorry about that. But I want you all to know that I love Donna. I always have.”

“Well, now’s your chance to prove it. Welcome to the family.” He stuck out his hand and I grasped it. We stared at each other. I tried to read his expression, but I guess years as a public figure had taught him to keep his emotions concealed. Finally, he wrapped one arm around my back and hugged me.

“Be good to her, young man,” he told me in a misty voice. “She’s the only baby girl I’ve got.”

“I will, Bishop. I promise.”

He released me with a nod and returned to his seat. I turned to the first lady and offered my hand but she ignored me, putting hers on the bishop’s back instead.

“If we’re going to do this, we’d better do it soon,” the first lady interjected, emotionless. “The last thing we want is for Donna to start showing before the wedding. It could lose you the election, T.K.”

The bishop looked at the large calendar on the west wall of his office. “I can have Reverend Reynolds marry you in two weeks. It looks like the church’s calendar is clear. Is that okay with you two?” Donna’s face was almost white. I could just imagine what she was thinking because the last person either of us wanted to be marrying us was Reverend Reynolds.

“Why can’t you marry us, Daddy?” She was using this little girl voice.

“Because I have to give you away, princess.”

“Well, then I prefer to have Reverend Tate marry us. After all, he is my godfather.” The bishop glanced at the first lady then back at us. I’m sure he sensed something was afoot but he left it alone.

“Okay, Donna, I’ll give Reverend Tate a call. How’s that?”

Donna glanced at me and I nodded. “That’s fine, Bishop.”

“It’s not fine with me,” the first lady protested. “That’s not enough time for me to plan a wedding. Why, I’ve got to get caterers, flowers, music, dresses, and the invitations made. And what about clergy from out of town? My God, where is the reception going to be held?” She threw her hand to her forehead in a dramatic gesture.

“Charlene, I’m sure you’ll rise to the occasion,” the bishop said quietly.

“Contrary to popular belief, I’m not a miracle worker, T.K.”

“Well, if we have to, we can have the reception in the church recreation hall,” he suggested.

“My daughter is not having some cheap reception in the church hall. Do you know how that will look? It’s bad enough she’s marrying him.”

She gestured toward me again. Donna didn’t show any reaction to her mother’s statements, and I certainly wasn’t about to open my mouth. Bishop Wilson finally defused the situation.

“Okay, Charlene. Obviously you have a lot of planning to do, but maybe we all need a day to get over the shock of Donna’s announcement before we start worrying about these details. Why don’t we leave this discussion until tomorrow, after we’ve had a chance to get used to the idea of a wedding?”

She was pouting, but the first lady agreed to his suggestion, and Donna and I were mercifully dismissed from the room. Both of us were too stunned to even speak after we left the room, though she did hold my hand as we walked toward the parking lot. The people who had been congratulating Reverend Reynolds and his wife were now outside in the church parking lot. A few of them pointed our way and started whispering, no doubt gossiping about our just announced engagement. I cringed at the thought of how their conversations probably included me as the bad guy in all this.

“I’m going home. I have to get out of these clothes. I’ve been wearing them the past three days,” Donna mumbled.

“Jump in. I’ll give you a ride.” It was all I could manage to say as I climbed into my truck to leave, though we still had so much more to talk about.

“No, I’m gonna walk to the cab stand. I need to be alone.”

“Aw’ight, but you should come over later. We need to talk.”

“Mm-hmm, just not tonight, Shorty. Tomorrow, okay?” Donna answered, avoiding eye contact.

“Donna, before I go, I just need to know. Do you really wanna get married?”

She touched her belly as she glanced over at the church parsonage where Reverend Reynolds and his new bride were entering with some members of the congregation. “I don’t think I have a choice.”