A Preacher's Passion (13 page)

Passion smiled as she watched Onyx cuddle up against her grandfather. They were in deep discussion, Passion’s father speaking to her daughter in a heartfelt tone, Onyx looking up with eyes of love. Passion could just about imagine the conversation, and in that moment Onyx confirmed what Passion thought was being said.

“Mama, Pawpaw says I’m the most beautifulest girl in the whole wide world,” Onyx said proudly. “And he said he loved me this, no, this, no this much!” Onyx jumped off the couch and spread her little arms and legs as wide as they could go.

“Well, if Pawpaw says it, you know it’s true,” Passion replied, with a wink to her father. “You’ve got to be the most beautifulest.”

“Mama,” Onyx continued thoughtfully. “Is beautifulest a word?”

Both Passion and her father laughed, and she explained, “It’s a special word Pawpaw made just for you. So if he says you’re the most beautifulest, then you are!”

This answer seemed to satisfy Onyx because she nodded, hugged her grandfather, and skipped into the kitchen, where her grandmother was plating dessert.

“Thanks, Daddy,” Passion said as she watched her daughter leave the room. “You always make her feel special, just like you did me when I was her age.”

“I made you feel that way because you were…still are,” he responded.

“Yeah, but I’m not your little girl anymore.” Passion’s voice broke unexpectedly. She covered it with a cough.

But not before her dad noticed. “You’ll always be my little girl,” he said gently. “And I’ll always care about what’s going on with you. Like how you’re more quiet than usual, have been for the past few weeks.”

Passion forced a smile before responding. “I’m fine, Daddy. Just overworked is all. You know we get the week off between Christmas and New Year’s. I’ll catch up on my rest then.”

“I hate that you have to work so hard to support yourself and Onyx. Even with child support, it can’t be easy out there. Maybe one day you’ll find a nice fella’ there in your church. Everybody needs somebody.”

The tears Passion had carried but refused to acknowledge the past two weeks threatened to erupt. But she wouldn’t cry over Lavon. She wouldn’t! She’d done good all day long, even as the holidays, and her siblings all spending them with their individual families, made her single status that much more obvious. She’d focused on her blessings—having a mother and father still alive; her health and strength; and her daughter. She’d been sincere when she thanked God during the Thanksgiving dinner prayer. She had too much to be thankful for to feel sorry for herself.

“Mama!” she said, rising from her chair and heading to the kitchen. “Where’s that good old sweet potato pie?”

Reminding herself of why she was thankful helped Passion make it through the rest of the afternoon. But when evening came, and her ex-husband picked up his daughter, Passion was left alone with nothing but her thoughts. She tried for the umpteenth time to reach Robin, only to find the number no longer in service. This was one of the rare times Passion wished for a female friend, somebody to share the feelings that were bottled up inside her, locked there since seeing Pastor Carla at Lavon’s hotel.

Passion sighed as she pulled a container of vanilla ice cream from her freezer and scooped a generous amount next to a slice of warm pie. She walked into her bedroom, propped up her pillows, climbed into bed, and hit the remote. Unfortunately the scene that replayed in her head was louder than the one on the screen.

It had happened the Sunday following the week she’d seen Lavon with Pastor Carla. He hadn’t returned her phone calls, but could not avoid her when she stepped in his path after Sunday morning services.

“You’re a busy man, Lavon Chapman, too busy to return phone calls.”

“I wasn’t too busy. I just didn’t want to talk to you, didn’t know what more could be said and didn’t want to continue feeding something that couldn’t grow.”

Lavon’s blunt honesty surprised her. There was a pause before she answered. “Well,” she said, trying to add levity, “why don’t you tell me how you
really
feel?”

Lavon led her away from the crowd gathering just outside the church doors. “I told you, Passion. You’re a good woman, but my heart is elsewhere. I couldn’t see us being just friends knowing that the attraction ran deeper than that, that our relationship had already gone beyond friendship.”

“Yeah, I know where your heart is…but isn’t Dr. Lee’s heart there too?”

Then it had been Lavon’s turn to be surprised. He’d fixed an intent stare on Passion, yet remained silent.

“I saw her the other night, at your hotel.”

Lavon had begun walking then, even farther away from the church. “When were you at my hotel?”

“Oh, so she was there on more than one night? Interesting.”

“What is interesting is that you came to my hotel uninvited.”

“The way I see it, unless your last name is Sheraton, that is not
your
hotel. But you’re right, I did come even after you failed to return my calls. But I had a reason; I’d wanted to give you this.”

Passion pulled the box from her purse. “It’s a going-away present for you, something to remember me by.”

“Look, Passion—”

“There’s no need to trip, okay? It ain’t like it’s Tiffany’s or nothing. And yes, I definitely thought about taking it back after what I saw, but at the end of the day, the truth is, I already bought it and I want you to have it, even with what I now know.”

“And what do you think you now know?”

“Oh please, Lavon. The first lady at your hotel at ten o’clock at night? C’mon now.”

“Pastor Carla’s a busy woman. She’s also very involved in the Kingdom Keys tapings, as you well know. Don’t make a mountain out of a molehill.”

“Hmph, a mountain is probably
not
what you were climbing the other night, but you probably ended up breathing heavy nonetheless.”

“Girl, you’re trippin’.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

“It was an innocent meeting about the Kingdom Keys—”

“In your room?”

Lavon hesitated before answering.
Did she come in the hotel?
he wondered.
Look for us in the restaurant, the coffee shop? Damn, maybe she saw Carla coming out the elevator.

“What the first lady does is none of my business,” Passion continued before Lavon could respond. “That’s between y’all and God. It’s a moot point anyway since you’re headed back to Kansas City next week. Right?”

“I’m headed there and then to Minneapolis for the holidays, to spend time with my daughter, visit other family.”

They’d wrapped the conversation shortly afterward and went their separate ways. Lavon had called once, to thank her for the cross chain. She’d called him once, and they’d exchanged e-mails. And then the truth hit Passion square in the face: it wasn’t enough.

“I miss him,” she said aloud, reaching over to her nightstand and picking up the phone. “I miss him, and we’re both grown-ups.”
Maybe he and Carla had a one-night stand. Maybe they didn’t even have sex. Maybe he just performed a little licky, licky. Maybe she poured her heart out about a troubled marriage, or counseled him on how to have a successful one.

Passion didn’t believe for one minute the two had just talked, but those thoughts were pleasant ones as she waited for Lavon’s voice mail. To her surprise, he answered.

“Hello?”

“Uh, hey, Lavon. You caught me—I mean, I was expecting your voice mail.”

“Would you like me to hang up so you can leave a message?” There was a smile in his voice.

Passion was smiling too. “No silly…happy Thanksgiving.”

“To you too. It was a pleasant one I hope.”

“It was. I spent it with my parents and my daughter of course. She’s with her dad now, hanging out with that side of the family tree.”

“That’s good. It’s always good for a daughter to have a relationship with her father, no matter what.”

“How’s your daughter—Felicia, right?”

“Hey, you remembered. She’s great. Seems like she ages five years every time I see her. Yesterday a little girl, today a woman.”

“I miss you, Lavon.” The words flew out before Passion could catch them.

Silence. And then, “I hope God will bless you with the man you deserve, who will give you the love that you are so worthy of. “I’m sorry I hurt you, Passion. I know you were hoping for more than what exists between us.”

“Yes, I wanted to be with you…still do. It’s been five years, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t regret not taking the chance at a little loving when it was right here, hard and ready, in my bedroom.”

Remembering Lavon’s thick, juicy manhood made Passion squirm. She wished for the umpteenth time that she could redo the night he had spent at her house.

“I’d better go,” Lavon said at last.”

“All right then. Talk to you later.”

Passion rolled out of bed and went to prepare another sweet potato pie à la mode. On the way back to the bedroom, she stopped by her DVD collection and picked out her Tyler Perry favorites. Tyler Perry was her preferred writer because his work always made her laugh, no matter what. She knew that seeing Madea—whether going to jail, reading a Black woman’s diary, or having a family reunion—would make her feel better. What was the famous saying…? It was better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.

Another thought came into Passion’s mind as she watched Madea. Maybe that’s what she should say about Lavon’s good-bye: “hell to the no.” With him leaving LA, whatever he had or didn’t have with Pastor Carla was over. And since he’d been with her, he couldn’t be too connected to the woman in Kansas City. And they’d just enjoyed a warm, easy-going conversation reminiscent of the ones they’d first shared.

The thought of a second chance with Lavon filled Passion’s heart with joy. As she laughed at Madea’s antics during their family get-together, she smiled even bigger thinking of a little reunion of her own.

“I had to call you,” he whispered, as if his voice might be heard beyond her cell phone.

“I’m glad you did.” She whispered too, even though she was alone in the family room. Sounds of laughter were heard from the floor above her—a house full of people she knew she needed to rejoin. “But you’re okay? Your day was good, turkey with all of the trimmings?”

“No, I’m definitely missing some trim but”—they both laughed—“…as good as it could be without you. I miss you, Carla. I know I shouldn’t, baby, but a brothah’s feeling jealous because someone else is with you, and not me. And the thing is, I like Stanley, which makes me feel bad that I want you, but not bad enough to let you go. Am I alone in these feelings?”

“It’s complicated, Lavon. I was with a lot of men before Stanley, and I’ve never felt the way I do now, with you. But it’s not just about us; I’ve got a family, three kids, a ministry, a following. I’ve got women looking up to me as their example.” Carla was already talking low but dropped her voice to a whisper. “My heart hasn’t been whole since the day you left. I can barely sleep next to Stanley. When I think of others, there’s no way I can be with you. But when I think of being true to who I really am, there’s no way I can’t.”

“I’ve got some news for you.”

“What’s that?”

“I’m coming back to you, baby.”

“You’re going to come visit me, love?”

“Not visit, move. I’m not going to give you up, Carla. I’ve taken a job in LA.”

I’ve taken a job in LA, taken a job in LA, not going to give you up, I love you….
A litany of Lavon’s words had played in Carla’s head since he’d said them a couple hours ago. She couldn’t remember what her guests had said, or when they’d left. She knew her quiet demeanor was so un-Carla and hadn’t gone unnoticed. But she hadn’t trusted herself to speak much, because everything she’d wanted to say was about her heart, Lavon.

The litany continued as she prepared for bed. One moment she was excited.
Lavon is coming back!
The next, petrified:
Lavon is coming back?
He’d stayed in town a week past the time everyone else thought him gone, and they’d been together every day. To be on the safe side, they’d switched him to a hotel in Long Beach, far from where most Logos Word congregants resided and even farther from the church. Carla remembered their last night together: bittersweet, full of passion.
Okay, let me use another word here,
she thought, and replaced the emotion that was her church member’s name with another,
rapturous ardor.
They’d made love with even more abandon than usual. Believing they wouldn’t see each other again, at least any time soon, neither had held back. There’d been tears upon parting, from both of them.

Carla sighed as she eased into bed next to Stanley. She hoped he was asleep. He wasn’t.

“You all right, Carla? You weren’t yourself today, and people noticed.”

“Oh yeah, I’m all right. Just got stuff on my mind is all.”

Stanley rolled over and faced Carla, who was lying on her back. He touched her arm. “Want to tell me about it?”

A part of her wanted to tell him everything, to spill her heart and hope he understood. But that was a split second thought. For the first time in ten years, Carla had a secret her husband would never know.

“Oh, Stan, I want to but…it was something told to me in confidence.”

In an uncharacteristic move, he pulled Carla toward him and held her close. “You had me scared for a moment,” he said, nuzzling her cheek and neck. “I thought it was something about us that was bothering you, like maybe you’d found some young stud and were kicking me to the curb or something.”

Carla’s body tensed at this near truth. She tried to relax, but all she wanted was for Stanley to let her go so she could roll over and think about Lavon until she fell asleep. That’s if she could sleep. She was so wound up from hearing Lavon’s sexy voice on the phone that she was considering a late night rendevous with Denzel, which had remained in its red velvet sheath the entire time Lavon had been in LA. She gave an air kiss to Stanley and then attempted to roll over on her side.

Stanley didn’t let her go. Instead, he raised up and partially straddled her, moving toward her lips for a kiss. She’d never been less turned on, but tried to summon up desire based on the true love she had for her husband. She closed her eyes and opened her mouth for Stanley’s average French kiss. All the while his tongue made small circles within her mouth, Carla remembered Lavon, and how he plundered her with his tongue, especially in her nether lips. She moaned with the memory.