A Preacher's Passion (18 page)

“I never knew my father,” Darius said, interrupting Stacy’s thoughts. “And my relationship with my mother is, let’s say, interesting. I haven’t seen her for almost five years.”

Stacy remembered that Darius’s grandmother had raised him while Tanya, who was actually Darius’s half-sister, had been raised by her birth father. But Tanya and Darius had known each other all their lives and were close from the beginning. Stacy reminded Darius that she knew this. He’d forgotten he’d told her.

“Yeah, when I was younger, I used to dream of finding my father, of us hanging out, you know, playing ball, going fishing, doing the male bonding thing. I gave up that dream a long time ago.”

His reminiscing continued while Stacy ate. With each spoonful, she felt stronger. Once finished, she took a moment to collect her thoughts and promised herself to stay calm. “Darius, I can’t say I’m sorry to be carrying your child. I’m sorry you feel the way you do about it. But I’m going to have this baby. And I hope he or she can know its father.”

Darius sat back heavily in the chair. He looked at Stacy a long moment. “This is a lot to digest, Stacy. I mean, this is probably the worst possible time for me to…What I mean is, I’ve got a lot going on, as you well know. Between the upcoming tour, the ministry, Shabach hatin’ on a brothah, and the record company pushing for another album…And now to bring a baby in the middle of all this? I’d be lying if I said I was happy. I’m very upset about it actually, extremely upset. That said”—Darius got up from the table and stood looking out the dining room window—“I guess I wouldn’t really want you to have an abortion—”

“I’m having this baby, Darius.”

“I heard you the first time, Stacy.” Darius turned to her. “Look, let’s not argue anymore, what’s done is done and somehow I have to, no,
we
have to deal with it. This doesn’t change how I feel about anything else though—marriage, that whole situation. But I will be there to help take care of my child. You are sure this baby is mine, right?”

“Oh my God.” Stacy got up from the table, stalked into the living room, grabbed her purse from the couch, and headed toward the foyer.

Darius followed her once again but didn’t try to stop her as she opened the door. “It’s not romantic, but it’s reality. I want a DNA test. And if the baby’s mine, I’ll take care of it.”

Stacy paused, just outside the Crenshaw/Jenkins residence. She never knew that one could feel as she did in that moment, able to totally hate and absolutely love the same person at the same time. As Stacy looked into the eyes of the love of her life and the father of her child, she said the only three words that seemed appropriate: “Go to hell.”

“Amen.” Vivian, Carla, and Tai said together as Vivian ended the prayer that opened their conference call. “Now,” Vivian said. “Which do we want to discuss first, the logistics or summit topics?”

“Logistics is easier,” Tai suggested. “Everything we need for the conference is at the hotel.”

“I’ve been online for a couple extracurricular activities to include in the handouts,” Vivian said. “Perhaps we can look into group tickets to the Cirque du Soleil or a Broadway-type show.”

“Actually,” Tai said, “there’s usually a great, old-school act performing somewhere. It might be fun to get our groove on with the Temptations or the Whispers. I think I heard Anita Baker was going to tour also.”

Vivian laughed. “Everyone knows you love oldies, Tai, but how’s it going to look for us to have R and B acts officially on our Sanctity of Sisterhood itinerary?”

“It’s gonna look like we have good musical taste, that’s how it’s gonna look,” Tai quickly countered. “Where in the Bible does it say Christians can’t listen to R and B? Girl, please. David Ruffin’s voice on ‘My Girl’ is so anointed I can hear that song and almost start speaking in tongues.”

“You are a mess,” Vivian said, and Tai laughed. “Carla,” Vivian continued. “You’re awfully quiet. What do you think, should Christians listen to secular music? Carla?”

“I’m sorry, y’all,” Carla answered. “My mind isn’t really into this right now.”

“I’ve felt you were unusually quiet since we all got on the phone,” Vivian responded. “Are you okay?”

There was a pause before Carla sighed. “No, Vivian, I am not okay.”

“Well, is it something you want to talk about? We’re here for you, sistah. SOS business can wait.”

“Actually this may involve SOS,” Carla continued. “Or at least my participation in it. I’ve already confided in Tai about this, Viv, and since I’m ninety percent sure I’m about to move forward, it’s time to tell you too.”

“Tell me what?”

“I want to divorce Stanley.”

There was complete silence on the phone as Vivian absorbed this news. She’d had absolutely no inkling there were problems in the Lee marriage and, after recovering from the shock of Carla’s statement, told her so. “Where are y’all receiving counseling?” she asked.

“We’re not. In fact, Stanley doesn’t know about this yet.”

“Don’t you think he should?” Vivian asked softly. “And are you sure he doesn’t already? If you two are having problems, surely he knows you’re unhappy.”

“We’ve had this particular problem since we got married,” Carla explained. “Stanley doesn’t like sex.”

“Oh, girl, I can’t imagine a man who doesn’t—”

“Well, imagine it, Vivian,” Carla interrupted. “Stanley could care less about sexual intercourse. I don’t know whether he just has a low libido or has such an adverse view of intimacy because of his strict, biblical upbringing, but he and I have never enjoyed a satisfying sex life.”

Carla gave Vivian a brief snapshot of the Lees’ love life for the past decade. “I’ve tried to get us into counseling,” she continued. “But he refuses to go, says there’s nothing wrong with our sex life and that he believes we do it more than most Christian couples.”

“I wonder what happened to him?” Tai mused aloud.

“Believe me, I’ve tried to find out. I even tried to talk to his mother about it one time but you would have thought I cursed when I said the word ‘sex.’ She squinted her eyes, scrunched her nose up as if I’d farted, and told me that was a topic to be discussed only with one’s husband and only in the bedroom. That’s why I think it could be something psychological, something in what he was taught as a child that prevents him from relaxing and actually enjoying physical intimacy.”

Vivian didn’t know what to say. She and Derrick enjoyed a very satisfying sex life. But was not being physically intimate a good enough reason to end a marriage?

“You need to tell Stanley you’re contemplating divorce,” she said after a moment. “Perhaps knowing this will be the push needed to get him to seek counseling. I’m sure I don’t need to say this but…you’ve got to try and save your marriage, Carla. You’ve got children and a ministry to think about. As a pastor’s wife, and a pastor yourself, this decision is not just about you.”

“This decision is all about me,” Carla angrily retorted. “I’ve been living a lie for ten years and I’m not willing to die unhappy. I know this won’t be easy,” she continued in a calmer, softer voice. “I know it will be hard on the kids, that the ministry will suffer. But how can anything around me continue to thrive when my soul is dying?

“Do you ever wonder why I’m always so loud and boisterous? Why I laugh so hard and praise so much? It’s because I’m afraid not to, afraid that if I don’t, the frustration will seep through. It’s not that I’m faking. I am loud and I do love God. But I’ve also developed a public persona that is ‘first lady’ acceptable. We’re not supposed to have problems—especially sexual ones. Everybody sees my smile, but no one knows my sorrow. And I’m tired of denying myself.”

Vivian sat up in her chair as a thought hit her like a punch in the gut. She tried to ignore it, but the feeling lingered. Her intuition was never wrong. “Carla…is there someone else? Have you developed feelings for another man?”

“I’ve done more than that,” Carla admitted quickly, ready to talk about it. “Tai already knows, Vivian. I’m having an affair.”

Well, no wonder…
“How long has this been going on?” Vivian asked. “Never mind, that’s not my business. But as your sister in Christ I must speak my heart. First of all, do you love Stanley?”

“Of course I love him; I’m just not
in
love with him.”

“I’ve heard that before but honestly, I’ve never understood that line. Love is love—in, out, up, down, around, through, or any other way—at least that’s the way it should be with unconditional love, the kind in which we’re supposed to operate. Does Stanley love you?”

“Yes.”

“Then please hear this unsolicited advice. You and Stanley must seek counseling immediately. And, Carla, you have to be honest with him. Tell him about the affair and tell him why. Nothing can come between a couple faster than a secret. Get everything out in the open. And then let God work.”

There was a long silence before Carla spoke. “What do you think, Tai?”

“You already know what I think about you and—you and this other man.”

“You might as well say it. It’s Lavon Chapman, Vivian.”

“Oh, Lord.” Vivian cringed.
Looks like he produced and directed more than a DVD series.
“This could get ugly.”

Tai began again. “It was only a couple years ago that I was contemplating divorce. It’s not an easy decision to make, and the only ones to make it are you and Stan. No one else. You’re the ones who made the vows, so you’re the ones who should decide to break them. Man might offer support but in the end, God is the supreme counselor. So most of all, you should listen to Him. But I’m your sister. You’ll have my support no matter what happens.”

“I appreciate that, Tai, and your words as well, Vivian. I know what looks to be the right thing to do, but my relationship with Lavon has awakened a part of me that has been asleep a long time, especially where true intimacy is concerned. There were parts of me I’d forgotten, parts that were buried under ‘pastor’s wife’ and ‘mama.’ But Carla Danielle Ellison Lee is back; she’s found herself. And she doesn’t want to give herself up again.”

“And she doesn’t have to,” Vivian responded. “She just has to introduce herself to Stanley Lee, her whole self. Maybe if he truly understands it’s all of you or nothing, he’ll be ready to do what it takes to change things. I know of an excellent therapist who counseled a couple from our ministry a couple years ago. The details were different but the problem was of a sexual nature. They’re still together and stronger than ever. If you’d like, I’ll give you his number.

“I’m sure this isn’t an isolated situation, Carla. We’d probably be shocked at how many Christian couples are battling sexual issues. That’s one of the reasons I don’t feel led to ask you to withdraw from the SOS ministry, not just yet. Eventually, we’ll have to take this before Ladies First, but I think your current pain may be another woman’s gain, as God works everything out for His glory.”

“And what if the counseling doesn’t work, and Stanley and I end up divorcing. Can God get glory out of that?”

It was a fair question, and Vivian paused before speaking. “God can do anything, Carla,” she said finally. “But fail.”

Later that evening, Carla waited in the sitting area of the master suite and watched time. She’d been doing it for the past thirty minutes, watching the hands of the curio floor clock inch forward as the pendulum swung back and forth. She watched time tick from life as she knew it to only God knew what. Tai and Vivian had spent the remainder of their conference call praying for Carla. Something must have happened, because by the time they’d hung up, she’d made the decision to talk to her husband, to try and work things out.

While she intended to have a forthright discussion with Stanley, she decided not to divulge the affair, at least for now. If all went well, she thought, she could end the affair with Lavon, she and Stanley could get counseling, Stanley would fall in love with the real Carla, the Lees would start having X-rated sex, their marriage would get back on track, and everybody would live happily ever after. Vivian maintained her “truth is the light” stance while Tai was optimistic that Carla could get away with not telling Stanley about Lavon. “I’m sure I don’t know about all of King’s indiscretions,” she’d stated matter-of-factly. “And the ones I did know about, trust, did not feel good. So I say if you don’t have to…why tell? Why cause all that hurt if it can be avoided?”

Carla reached for her Bible and began reading from the page on which it opened, Psalm 18:

The bedroom door opened slowly. “Carla?” Stanley inquired.

Carla took a deep breath. “Hey, babe,” she said, without turning around.

“Oh, you’re in the Word,” he said, noting the Bible as he walked over and kissed her forehead. “I wondered why the house was so quiet. Kids in bed?”

“Bri is probably on her phone and if I know the boys, they’re playing videos even though they know it’s bedtime. Are you hungry?” Carla asked, rising to go downstairs. Now that the time for the inevitable conversation was here, Carla questioned whether this particular night time was the right time. She was at the door before Stanley answered.

“No, I’m good. I had dinner at the church.”

“Oh, okay.”

They shared the day’s trivialities while Stanley undressed and prepared for bed. Carla’s watching his nightly ritual was bittersweet. Stanley was a good man, a solid man; there were definitely things about him she’d miss.
Miss? Wait a minute, what am I thinking? I’m not leaving Stanley, I’m staying with Stanley. Being with Lavon isn’t worth all I’ll lose.
She began reciting the Bible verses silently:
The Lord is my rock…

“Carla?”

“Huh?”

“I was trying to tell you about the meeting tonight but you’re a thousand miles away. Want to share?”

Stanley got ready to get into bed.

“Baby, can you come over here for a moment? Actually, there is something I want to discuss with you.”

“Sure, babe, but can you make it quick? It’s been a long day.”

It’s been an even longer ten years.
“I’ll try not to be long, Stanley, but this can’t wait.”

“What is it? Something with the kids? Please don’t tell me it involves Brianna—”

“No, Stanley, the kids are fine. This is about…about us.”

Stanley hesitated before plopping into the armchair opposite Carla. He rubbed his eyes wearily and leaned forward, his fingers steepled under his chin. “I’m listening.”

Carla leaned forward as well. “Stanley,” she began, “I love you very much, love the life and family we’ve created. But for a very long time now, a big part of me has been absent from this life. Every now and then I’ve tried to tell you about her, but I’ve never been successful.”

Stanley leaned back in the armchair and kept listening.

“Baby, I’m talking about true and complete intimacy. It’s a part of myself I’ve never been able to totally express with you.”

Stanley sighed. “Is this about sex again? Carla, why does this keep being an issue for us? I thought we’d finally gotten to the point where we understood each other. And now, here you go again.”

“I
don’t
understand you, Stanley, and you don’t understand me.”

Stanley rose from the chair and headed to the bed. “I understand you’re a nymphomaniac, Carla,” he said with a bit of a chuckle. “Now come on, baby, I’m tired. Let’s go to sleep.”

Carla didn’t move. His was the response she’d experienced for ten years—discounting her feelings, not taking her sexual needs seriously. Before, she’d always excused him because he had characteristics that were so good in other areas that mattered: loyal, good father, great minister, provider. She couldn’t pretend anymore; it wasn’t enough.

She walked over to her side of the bed but didn’t get in. “This is serious, Stanley. I’ve asked you before and you’ve always refused. But I want us to seek counseling to find out why you have such low, actually no interest in sex. It’s not just the physical aspect in itself, but the deeper level of intimacy between a man and woman that is reached as a result of that aspect.”

Stanley yawned and pulled back the covers.

“And now it’s to the point where if we don’t get help, I don’t want to continue in this marriage.”

These words stopped Stanley in his tracks. “What did you say?”

“I’m saying that this situation is serious, that I’ve allowed a big part of me to be ignored in order to make our union work. I don’t want to hide her anymore. I want to share her with you.”

“So what are you saying, that because I’m not a nympho, a sex fiend, a freak, you want to divorce me?”

“I’m saying I can’t keep going the way we are, with me having to pleasure myself to reach orgasm.”

“Pleasure your—masturbation? In the name of God, woman, you’ve brought that unclean spirit into this house?”

“Unclean? Stanley, you can’t be serious.”

“The Bible says—”

“Don’t go pulpit on me, Stanley Lee. I’m your wife, not a church member. I know what the Bible says—that the marriage bed is undefiled.”

“Well, I sure hope you haven’t been performing your little, how should I say it, finger exercises, where I lay my head at night.”

“Oh, I’ve got something much better than my fingers to work with,” Carla retorted, anger quickly replacing her calm facade.

“So that’s what this is all about,” Stanley exploded. “You’re committing adultery? Is that it, Carla? Have you returned to your roots of being a whore?”

“You’d better believe it, baby,” Carla retorted, his scathing remark about her promiscuous past cutting to the core, slicing through “Christlike” and “calm” with one verbal slash.

“You want to meet him?” she asked as she stomped to the closet and yanked open the door. She paused, chest heaving, staring Stanley down.

Stanley looked anxiously at the closet door. “What the…”

Carla walked inside and came out with a red velvet bag. She pulled out the monster cock, nine inches of anatomically correct rubber. “This can do much better than my fingers, Stanley,” she said, advancing toward him and waving the unruly member like a fencing sword. “Meet Denzel, my other man!”

“Get that thing away from me, Carla,” Stanley said, backing up to the bed and falling onto it.

Carla advanced menacingly, the dildo waving back and forth as though it were alive. “Scared of him?” she asked, crawling onto the bed.

Stanley dodged her and scooted to the other side. He jumped off the bed and pointed angrily at the penis. “Have you had that gangly pornographic
member
inside you, Carla, inside your vagina?”

“Oh, yes,” Carla said, throwing the penis on the bed long enough to step out of her lounging robe. She was naked underneath. She picked the penis up. “Want to see how it works?” She spread her legs and poised the dildo between her thighs.

“The blood of Jesus,” Stanley hissed. He began speaking in tongues, binding the devil and loosing his wife from her Satanic, sinful spell. “I mean it, put that thing away!” he yelled. He walked over and jerked the dildo out of Carla’s hand, then flung it across the room as if it were poison. “Denzel” bounced off the wall and fell into a potted plant.

Carla and Stanley stood in the middle of their master suite, both breathing heavily and staring at the pot as if they half expected the dildo to bounce back out the container and walk over toward them.

“I think you’re right about counseling,” Stanley said, still looking at the potted plant. Then he looked at Carla. “But I’m not the one who needs it.”

The dancing dildo had cooled Carla’s burst of anger. At the end of the day, she didn’t care what reason was used to get Stanley to a therapist, as long as he went. “Maybe it is me,” she readily agreed. “But why don’t we both go so we can make sure. I don’t want to fight with you, Stanley. So much of our life is good.”

She sat on the bed and covered herself. “All I’m saying is I want to be able to take our intimate time to another level. We’ve been married ten years, Stanley. Don’t you ever want to do something different, add a little spark, a little spice to our lovemaking?”

“Obviously not.”

“That’s what I need to understand, baby. What happened to cause you to be so disinterested in this particular gift from God.”

“God made sex for one thing: procreation. We have been fruitful and we’ve multiplied. I’m almost fifty years old. I actually think at this time in our lives we should be having less sex, not more.”

“You’re five years from fifty, Stanley, and you act like that’s old. My parents are in their sixties and still going strong.”

Instead of responding, Stanley climbed into bed, pulled up the cover, and rolled away from Carla.

Carla scooted over to him and placed her arm across his midsection. “Is that what it is, Stanley? Is it something about how your parents felt about sex, what you were taught? Is sex a sin to you, even in the marriage bed? Were you…molested?”

“No!” Stanley said, throwing the covers off and turning to face Carla. “So now you think I’m a pervert too? What is it with you and sex? Is that why you want it so much? Were
you
molested?”

Carla was taken aback at the force of Stanley’s anger. She’d never considered molestation before; the question came from nowhere. But now that it was out…just maybe…

“No, I wasn’t molested,” she answered. “When I lost my virginity at barely fifteen, I was a willing participant, looking for love in all the wrong places. I love you, Stanley, no matter what. And if something happened to you that turned you off from sex, baby, it’s something that can be fixed—”

“I don’t need fixing,” Stanley said, flinging the covers aside and getting out of bed. “I need sleep…and peace. I’m going to the guest bedroom.”

Carla watched him as he stomped out the door. “Oh my,” she sighed, as into her mind came images of her lover and the things he had done to her—in the same bed where her prudish husband was soon to lay his head.
There I go again,
she thought sadly. No matter that her thoughts that evening had begun on Stanley. They’d ended where they always did…on Lavon.

“I will love thee, O Lord, my strength…” she began for a third time.