The Preachers Son (26 page)

The members of the board remained speechless as I left the podium and headed for my seat. I stopped in my tracks when I spotted Dante standing off to the side of the room by one of the doors. The tears streaming down his face told me that he had heard the whole story. I hadn’t wanted him to hear the truth about his biological father this way. My heart ached for him, but when we made eye contact, he gave me a small smile and I knew we would be okay. They could do what they wanted with the information they had just been given. As long as I still had my husband and the love of my children, I knew we would be all right.

I wiped the tears from my eyes as I watched Donna stand and embrace my mother. Ma was holding back tears, not willing to give Reverend Reynolds and his cronies the satisfaction of seeing her cry. I was tempted to walk down to where they were seated but decided against it. I needed a minute or two to digest the bombshell I had just heard. Once again, things weren’t what they seemed in the Wilson family, and now I had to adjust to the realization that the bishop was not my biological father and that Tanisha was not my half-sister. Ma was right, though; he would always be my father and he would always have my respect. I don’t think I’d have the heart to do what he’d done and keep it a secret all these years.

“I would like a chance to speak now,” Reverend Reynolds demanded.

Donna released my mother and turned to Reverend Reynolds, who was about to get up. I could almost feel her entire body cringe as he spoke. Talk about a Judas. I wanted to walk down to where he was standing and smack the shit out of him.

“Members of the board, First Lady Wilson has delivered a very impassioned speech in support of her husband. But the fact still remains, though, that the bishop’s secret past has caused irreparable damage to the reputation of this church. The media have branded us as a church with an adulterous leader, and no matter what story First Lady Wilson has just told us, it is too late to reverse the negative opinions formed in the minds of the public. What are we to say to the media now? Do you really think it will make a difference to the public that our leader supposedly had no knowledge of his illegitimate child? The point is, we simply cannot support a bishop who had a child out of wedlock. That is not something a man of God would do. It’s just—”

“Stop, Terrance! Just stop!”

Reverend Reynolds’s mouth snapped shut as he turned in the direction of the shout. His eyes were wide as he stared, along with everyone else in the room, at my pregnant sister, who stood with tears streaming down her face.

“I can’t let you do this,” she cried.

“What are you talking about?” Reverend Reynolds asked nervously. “It’s your father who has done something wrong.”

“You are so full of it. And I’m not going to let you get away with this any longer.” Donna looked at Shorty, who was now standing beside her.

“It’s okay, baby,” Shorty said as he held her hand. “Go ’head and tell them.”

Donna reached for my mother’s hand, and as she leaned against her husband for support, she made an announcement that would leave every person in the room thunderstruck, including me.

“You stand here yelling about how my father should be removed because he had a child out of wedlock, but there is one more thing I think they should know before any decisions are made.”

Reverend Reynolds opened his mouth as if he had something to say, but no words came out.

“Why don’t you tell them who the father of my baby is, Terrance?”

I felt faint as Donna’s words registered. Was she saying what I thought she was? I turned my attention to Reverend Reynolds, who was suddenly looking a lot less confident than he had throughout the meeting. His eyes went from Donna to his wife and then back to Donna. As I watched him squirm, I realized that this was the look of a guilty man.

“Ah, Donna, what are you saying? Everyone knows your husband is the father of your baby, right?” He sounded as if he was begging her not to go any further.

“Don’t play stupid, Terrance. My husband is man enough to take responsibility for this child, but you
know
he’s not the biological father of my baby.”

His wife jumped up and demanded to know, “What is she talking about, Terrance?”

“Nothing, she’s lying,” he insisted with a wild look in his eyes.

Donna, who had started out leaning on Shorty for support, now seemed to regain her strength. She stood tall and proud and announced to the room full of deacons and deaconesses, “Shorty is not the father of my child, though my child will be blessed to be able to call him Daddy. Reverend Reynolds is the father of this baby.”

“That’s a lie! That’s a bald-faced lie!” he shouted, glancing around the room as if he was looking for someone to believe him. “I’m not her child’s father.”

“Terrance, you can deny it all you want, but when this child is born in two weeks, you can be sure I will seek a DNA test and hold you responsible for child support.”

I looked at Shorty, who was gazing lovingly at Donna, with a newfound respect. He had known all along that this child was not his. He had married my sister for the same reasons the bishop had married my mother. I was stunned and humbled by the knowledge that Shorty was actually a man as honorable as the bishop.

Reverend Reynolds was looking ashen, though still proclaiming his innocence. “This…this is ridiculous!” he sputtered. “This is obviously a feeble attempt to save her father’s position as bishop. Ms. Wilson, you should be ashamed of yourself for lying to these good people.”

He turned to Deacon Black. “She is obviously using the birth of her child as a ploy to manipulate the board and delay your decision. Does she really think that another two weeks will change your opinions? Bishop Wilson is bad for this church, and I demand that the board make its decision here and now!”

As Reverend Reynolds was ranting, Donna had left my mother’s side and headed to where his wife was seated. I watched as his wife examined what Donna had handed her. It appeared to be a photograph, and whatever was on it caused his wife’s face to crease with anger. She jumped from her seat before the deacons could respond to Reverend Reynolds’s tirade.

“Terrance!” she shouted. “Why are you kissing her in this picture?”

“Darling, I…I—”

“Don’t even try to explain, Terrance. The date on this picture is printed right here on the front. You were in some restaurant all hugged up on her a month after I went shopping for my damn wedding gown! How could you?”

Donna headed back in Ma’s direction looking tired but vindicated. It wasn’t my mother she was heading to, though. Shorty held out his arms and she went to him. Their loving embrace spoke volumes about how much we had all been through, and gave me faith that, in the end, love would prevail. That’s when I decided to walk over and join my family. I walked up behind my mother and hugged her tightly.

While his wife stood by her seat and cried, Reverend Reynolds refused to give up. “Deacon Black, I am not the person you came here to discuss today. Bishop Wil—”

“Reverend Reynolds,” Deacon Black said to him with obvious disdain, “the board has heard more than enough from you today. Now, perhaps the best thing for you to do is attend to your distraught wife, and I suggest you do it outside of this room.”

Reverend Reynolds finally slumped his shoulders in defeat and left his spot near the podium. He went to his wife, but when he reached for her arm to escort her out of the room, she shouted, “Don’t touch me! Don’t you dare touch me!” and left on her own. Reverend Reynolds looked crushed as he followed her out.

“Well,” Deacon Black announced as the door closed behind the reverend and his wife, “this meeting has certainly brought quite a few issues before the board. Obviously the issue of Reverend Reynolds will need to be dealt with, but the fact still remains that we need to make a decision about Bishop Wilson. I, for one, am still very concerned about the negative media attention that he has brought to our doorstep.”

“Excuse me, Deacon. I’d like to speak,” I announced as I left my mother’s side and headed for the podium.

“Well, Dante, I appreciate that, but I think the board has heard all we need to hear today.”

“No, I don’t think you have, sir. This church is my father’s life, and as his son, I don’t think any of you here should feel comfortable about deciding his fate until you have heard what I have to say. Besides, if I remember correctly, church bylaws say that you must hear what everyone has to say before you vote.”

Deacon Black looked worn, but he agreed to let me speak. “Very well, son. Speak your mind.”

I stood at the podium and looked out at the room full of people, many of whom had been in our home over the years and had come to feel like members of our extended family.

“First of all, I would like all of you who are long-standing members to recall just how much you have seen this church grow under my father’s leadership. First Jamaica Ministries wouldn’t be half of what it is today without his guidance. He has done much good for this church, needy members of this community, and even personally for many of the people in this room today.

“Now, in the last month and again here today, I have heard many people worrying that the media attention will destroy this church that my father helped build. Well, I say damn the media. They weren’t able to destroy Jesse Jackson, and his indiscretions were far greater than my father’s ever were. His followers didn’t desert him; they stood by him. They refused to let the media shape their opinions, and we as members of a strong black church should do the same.

“I don’t think there is one person in this room who could honestly say that they didn’t admire and respect my father before this all started. Bishop T.K. Wilson is still that same man, and if you can’t see that, then I don’t hold out much hope for the future of this church, media or no media. I say hold your vote now, and allow my family and this church to get on with our lives.” Almost everyone in attendance began to rise to their feet, then it seemed like every voice in the crowd was chanting, “Let the bishop stay…Let the bishop stay…Let the bishop stay!”

When he recovered from the impact of the crowd, Deacon Black said, “Thank you, Dante. I would like to second your suggestion. If there are no objections, I think that we should go ahead and hold a vote right now.”

The board agreed to hold their vote, and I returned to my mother’s side. When it was all said and done, only one board member was still set on removing my father from the church. That one vote came from Deacon Emerson, and I was sure that Anita had had something to do with it, but in the end it didn’t matter. My father would be reinstated as bishop to continue his good work in the church and in the community.

My mother, Donna, Shorty, and I left to find the bishop so we could celebrate a moral victory and start healing our family. After that I was going to find Tanisha.

“You sure you wanna do this?” Tanisha asked as we stood holding hands outside the main entrance to Howard University’s School of Divinity. It was late January and the new semester was about to begin. Tanisha and I had been standing out there in silence for a good four or five minutes before she finally spoke. There was no need for anything to be said until then because we both knew that if we entered the building, there was no turning back. Our lives would be changed forever.

I turned to her and nodded nervously. “Yeah, I’m sure. Besides, my mother would kill me if I backed down now.”

I chuckled, trying to hide my nervousness, but Tanisha didn’t laugh. I nudged her and smiled, hoping to lighten her mood. She finally cracked a smile before we started up the stairs. I opened the heavy wooden doors and we walked in, to be greeted by a security guard. “Can I help you?”

“My name is Dante Wilson. I think they’re expecting me.”

The guard looked down at a clipboard and said, “Yes, they’re in the chapel. Can I see some ID, please?”

I pulled out my wallet and handed him my brand-new Howard University ID card. He glanced at it then handed it back, pointing down the corridor. “Third door on your right. You can’t miss it.”

“Thanks.” I took Tanisha’s hand and we walked the fifty or so feet to the large wooden door. The sound of voices emanated from within the room behind it.

“We’re late,” I said as I reached down to open the door. Tanisha grabbed my arm and stopped me.

“Hold on a second, boo.” She looked like she was going to cry.

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothin’. I just wanted to tell you how much I love you before we go through that door.”

“I love you, too.” I smiled, leaning over to kiss her. She wrapped her arms around my neck and we kissed like the world was going to end tomorrow. When we finally broke the kiss, I asked, “Are you ready now?”

She nodded and I reached for the doorknob. Waiting for us inside was a small, select group of our loved ones. Inside the chapel, on the front pew, sat the first lady, the bishop, Marlene, a gangly preadolescent Aubrey, and my sister Donna. Donna held my fat five-month-old nephew on her lap. She was glowing and looking radiant, as if motherhood and being a wife definitely agreed with her.

“Where y’all been? Dang, y’all twenty minutes late to your own wedding,” Donna yelled out.

Standing before the pulpit was Shorty wearing a purple robe. He gave us a huge smile. “Are you ready?”

I stepped forward. “Yes.”

Tanisha stood at my side and said, “Let’s do this.” She gazed at me with tears in her eyes.

I looked around at my family. Everyone’s life had changed over the last six months. None more than Shorty, who walked into the bishop’s office the night after his son’s birth and told him he’d gotten the calling. Don’t ask me what strings the bishop pulled, but Shorty was now attending Howard University’s School of Divinity and, with the bishop’s guidance, was about to perform my wedding ceremony. Needless to say, my mother was overjoyed by Shorty’s choice.

I, on the other hand, had enrolled in and was about to begin classes at Howard’s School of Law, and believe it or not, I had my mother’s blessing. You see, now that Shorty had gotten the calling, my mother had lightened up on me about going to divinity school. I guess all she wanted was to have one son carry on the family business, and now she had Shorty.

With both our families going to live in the D.C. area, Donna, Tanisha, Shorty, and I all shared the same house in order to cut expenses. Everyone was able to help Donna with the baby while she finished up her undergraduate degree at Howard. Tanisha was going to be starting cosmetology in February and was working in one of the most exclusive beauty shops in D.C. as a hair washer.

Even Marlene had moved down to the area with Aubrey, whom she had regained custody of, and she was doing a good job with him. She had gotten a job as a clerk in a social service agency and seemed to have found her life’s calling, too. She liked encouraging other recovering addicts. “It helps me stay straight,” she would say. Marlene now planned to go back to community college to become a social worker.

As for Donna, she looked down at her fat baby boy, Thomas Kelly, named after his grandfather, then smiled up at her husband. She’d told me in private that she had planned on having her marriage annulled before that day we all confronted the deacons board. She said that was the day she realized how lucky she was and truly fell in love with Shorty.

I had laughed when Tanisha told me Donna rushed straight home from the doctor’s office the day of her six-week postpartum checkup so she could consummate their marriage. And boy, had it been worth the wait! She was surprised at what a good lover Shorty was. She respected how he had waited until she was truly ready for him, and she was surprised—the sex was even better with a man who truly loved her and who had proved it in every way.

Yes, Shorty had definitely won her over. Most of all, she loved how Shorty loved their baby. She was even more sprung than she had been with Terrance. She was deeply in love with her husband, the man with whom she wanted to spend the rest of her life.

Donna had learned her lesson the hard way. Just because you love someone doesn’t mean that person loves you. She finally understood how Reverend Reynolds had been using her. Theirs had been a one-sided love. Although at first Shorty had had a one-sided love for her, she’d also learned that, as a woman, you can learn to love someone back, particularly if that person is good to you.

My mother was so into being a grandmother that it seemed like she was making weekly trips to D.C., although I think she really enjoyed having the bishop all to herself. The only person that hadn’t changed was the bishop. He was still the rock of our family and the church, a good man and a better father.

I watched as Donna cuddled her baby close to her. Shorty coughed against his fist then cleared his throat. He balanced his Bible in his right hand. “Dante Wilson, do you take Tanisha Jones to be your wedded wife, to cherish and to care for until death do you part?”

I looked deeply into Tanisha’s eyes. Without hesitation, I said loudly for my close friends and family and the whole world to hear, “I do.”