Drama in the Church Saga (19 page)

“Yeah, I've stayed at a few of them.”

“That's him.”

It wasn't long before Bryant got to see what the Richardsons looked like. He thought they looked like a real life replica of George and Weezie Jefferson. He was a short, balding man, and his wife was a husky woman who towered at least a foot over her husband.

“Mr. and Mrs. Richardson, I'm so glad to see you,” Mayfield welcomed them. “Please have a seat.” The couple sat down around the dining room table, and Mayfield asked Bryant to get the baby from the adjoining bedroom.

When Bryant returned, he held Bryce up for them to see. Bryant wanted his son to make a good first impression on his new parents, so he had bought him a one-piece, blue striped outfit with a matching baseball cap. Bryce resembled a miniature baseball player.

“He is beautiful!” The wife held out her hands. “Can I hold him?”

“Sure,” Mayfield said, nudging Bryant to hand her the baby.

Holding her son for the first time brought tears to her eyes. “I can't believe this is finally happening.”

“You can take him home with you tonight,” Mayfield replied.

“We just need for you to sign a few papers.” Mayfield pulled out the contracts and Bryce's medical records. Bryant watched the couple play with his son. Bryce was a friendly baby and took to them immediately. He grabbed at Mrs. Richardson's jewelry and talked to them in his own native baby talk.

“Do you have any other children at home?” Bryant asked.

“No! He will be our first. Does he have a name?”

“Yes ma'am. His name is Bryce.”

She screwed up her face. “I don't like that name. Can we change it?” she asked Mayfield.

“Yes ma'am,” he replied. “There is a line in the adoption papers for a name change.”

“If you don't mind me asking, why did you wait so long to adopt?” Bryant asked.

“I realize that we are considered an older couple,” Rosa replied. “My husband worked hard all our lives to make sure that we were financially secure. It wasn't until my fifty-seventh birthday that we realized that we had no children to inherit the business. It was too late for us to try and have children of our own, and that is when we began to look into adoption.”

Mr. Richardson looked through the adoption papers and signed off on all the pages. He pointed to the last page. “Is this where we can change his name?”

“Yes,” Mayfield replied.

“We've decided to name him Kevin,” Rosa announced.

Bryant sat and watched the adoption transaction take place. He had been through this a hundred times before, but today was different. In the past, he had always felt a twinge of guilt for selling his children, but he had really grown to love Bryce. He guessed the reason he felt so close to Bryce is because of how much he cared for his mother. Olivia would always be special to him.

Bryant never had the opportunity to bond with any of his other children like he had with Bryce, except for Niya. Niya was his oldest daughter and the very first child he sold. He could still hear her cries in his sleep. The day he handed her over to her adoptive parents she cried out ‘Daddy'.

Before Bryant became a baby broker he had a good life. He was married to a beautiful woman, they had just bought a house, and his wife, Taima, had just given birth to a baby girl named Niya. Life couldn't be better, until Bryant lost his job and the monthly bills starting piling up. He missed several mortgage payments and the bank was threatening to foreclose on their home. Bryant went to his Uncle Mayfield to ask for a loan, but unfortunately his uncle was broke. That's when his uncle mentioned a couple he knew who was willing to pay top dollar for a baby girl. He suggested that Bryant give them Niya.

Hearing his suggestion infuriated Bryant. He couldn't believe his uncle would even think of such a thing. Until he heard that the couple was willing to pay one million dollars.
One million dollars for a baby?
He knew it was wrong, but it seemed to be the only solution.

Bryant agreed and his uncle handled everything. The only other concern Bryant had was Taima. What were they going to do about her? She would never allow Bryant to sell their child. Mayfield convinced Bryant that the only option they had was to drug Taima and sign her into rehab. He didn't want to do it, but he did. He still felt bad about what he did but the money helped make up for it.

“Kevin. That's a nice name,” Mayfield replied. “Isn't it, Bryant?”

Bryant slowly nodded his head in agreement.

Mayfield looked through the contracts to make sure everything was signed. “Well, it looks like you have a new addition to your family. Here are his medical records.” He handed the documents to Mr. Richardson.

“Here is the adoption fee,” Albert Richardson said. He handed Mayfield a cashier's check.

“Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Richardson. I feel good knowing that Kevin is in your hands.” He stood up and they shook hands.

“Wait, let me get you his diaper bag,” Bryant piped up. He ran back into the bedroom.

While they waited on Bryant, someone knocked on their door. “Bryant, are you expecting someone?” Mayfield called out.

“No,” Bryant shouted back.

“Excuse me for a second.” When Mayfield opened the door he came face to face with a Greensboro police detective and two other officers. “Hi, can I help you?” Mayfield asked.

“Yes, I'm Detective Denali. We received a tip that there was a baby who was kidnapped in this room.”

“Detective, there is no baby here,” Mayfield replied in a whisper.

“Well, if you don't mind, we'd like to take a look around.” He tried to push the door open.

Mayfield pushed back against the door. “Officer, I don't mean to be disrespectful, but if you don't have a search warrant, then I can't let you in.”

“Sir, you don't own this hotel room. We have the hotel manager's permission to search every room in this hotel if necessary.”

The police barged their way into the room and found the Richardson's gathering their things to leave with Bryce.

“Excuse me, sir, is this your baby?” the detective asked Mr. Richardson.

“Yes, this is our son. We just adopted him,” Mrs. Richardson interjected.

The detective turned around and asked Murray, “Is this the baby you were hired to find?”

“Yes, it is,” Murray said.

Bryant came back out with the baby bag. “What is going on?” He looked at Murray. “What are you doing here?”

“That's him,” Murray told the detective.

“Arrest them both,” the detective commanded the other officers, pointing to Bryant and his uncle.

The handcuffs were put on Bryant. “What is going on?” he whined.

“You're under arrest for kidnapping a child,” the detective informed him.

“I didn't kidnap him. He's my son. I have his birth certificate in the room.”

The officer looked at Murray for confirmation.

“Yes, he is the father, but he did not have the mother's permission to leave the state of Pennsylvania with the child.”

The detective picked up the adoption papers that lay on the table.

“I assume this was a private adoption?” the detective asked.

“Yes, detective, it was,” Mr. Richardson responded.

“How much did you pay?”

Mr. Richardson looked unsure about answering. “I paid one hundred fifteen thousand dollars,” he said.

“That's all I needed to hear. Take them away,” the detective said. He pulled the baby from Mrs. Richardson's hands and handed him to Murray. “You won't be able to adopt this baby, because the adoption is illegal,” he informed the couple.

“What about my money?” Albert Richardson asked.

“You will get your money back. Just come down to the station and provide me with a statement.”

The detective walked up to Murray. “I also need for you to come down to the station.”

“Sure,” Murray said. “I just need to call the mother and let her know I found her baby.” He dialed Olivia's number. “Olivia,” he said when she answered. “I have some good news for you.”

Monday afternoon Payce dragged himself into work at The Dollhouse. The receptionist stood at her usual post watching an episode of
As the World Turns
on a small television set hidden behind the counter. She raised her eyes slightly and acknowledged his arrival by nodding her head, then turned her attention back toward the television.

Payce walked halfway down the hall before he turned back around. “What is your name?” he asked the receptionist. “I've been working here for weeks and I still don't know your name.”

“Simone,” she replied.

“Hi, Simone. I'm Payce.”

“Oh, I know who you are. Just because you didn't know my name doesn't mean I didn't know yours.” She grinned. Payce liked her. Under different circumstances, he would have tried to get her phone number, but dating coworkers was not his thing, especially ones who worked at The Dollhouse.

He attempted to walk down the hall toward the locker rooms when Simone called out his name. “Payce, I forgot to tell you, Natasha wants to see you in her office.”

Making a quick U-turn, he commenced walking in the opposite direction. He lightly tapped on his boss's door. “You wanted to see me?” he asked.

Natasha took off her reading glasses and pulled her attention from the magazine article she was reading. “Yes, Payce, come in and shut the door.”

He took a seat in front of her desk. “What's up?”

“I have a favor I need to ask of you. Since you've joined our family, my clientele has increased. You have quickly become one of my most requested employees.”

“I aim to please,” he laughed.

“Saturday night I'm throwing a party. It's an exclusive party extended to wives only. Wives of various celebrities, music artists, athletes, famous politicians—you get the picture. I have already asked a few of the other fellas who work here to help me out that night and I was hoping you would also be interested in working.”

“Sure, I'd be glad to help out. Will I be doing the same thing I do here?”

“Yes, except there will be no husbands around to watch you. No husbands are allowed.” She stressed her words. “I put this event together because I hear a lot of wives complain about how their husbands are negligent to their sexual needs. Most have never experienced an orgasm. These women are looking for a good time. Give these ladies pleasure, and whatever else they may be looking for.”

“No problem,” he arrogantly replied.

“I'm calling the party, ‘What goes around comes around.' I've got hundreds of responses. Women are bringing their friends and family. This party is going to be huge.”

“How much are you paying?”

“I like that! You always have money on the mind.” She pulled out two stacks of bills and placed them on the desk in front of him. “I'm willing to pay you in advance. That's how much I trust you. This is fifteen thousand dollars. Is that enough?”

“That is more than enough,” he replied while picking up the stacks of money.

 

 

Payce pulled up in front of Natasha's home and a valet opened his car door. He grabbed his duffel bag from the backseat. When he stepped out of the car he couldn't help but notice the exquisite landscaping done to her front yard. In the center of the circular driveway a water fountain housed a multitude of gold fish and a row of magnolia trees lined the driveway from the street all the way up to the house. Off to the side, a man-made pond sat underneath a small crosswalk and bright fluorescent lights revealed a path for guests to enjoy the beautiful grounds.

Payce slowly walked up the marble steps that led to the front entrance. A doorman greeted him and invited him inside. Payce passed through the archway and was blinded by a shimmering chandelier that hung from the ceiling. Its reflection gave off so much light that it took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the shine. He glared up at the chandelier when a topless waiter, wearing nothing but a pair of white leather shorts, darted past him carrying a tray of hors d'oeuvres.

“Hello, Payce.” Payce turned around just in time to see Reverend Kane coming in his direction.

“Reverend Kane.” Payce checked out the dress she was wearing. The midnight blue gown was very tasteful and sophisticated. Her hair was pulled into a single French braid, and the only jewelry she wore was a large sapphire pendant that hung around her neck. “You look nice tonight. Natasha didn't mention you would be here.”

“I'm working tonight. Natasha thought it would be good if I was available just in case any of her guests wanted to have the lesbian experience.”

Payce hoped that he wouldn't have to do a threesome with her. To watch the Reverend go down on another woman would be embarrassing.

“Payce.” Natasha descended her winding staircase in a Valentino original. The white, silk, floor-length dress hugged her curves. “I'm so glad you made it.” She hugged him. “I thought you might get lost with all the construction they're doing on the interstate.”

“No, you gave good directions.”

“I'm glad.” She pointed up the stairs. “You can go upstairs to the first bedroom on the left and change your clothes. Once you're ready you can join us in the den.”

Before he walked away, Natasha stopped him.

“Payce, let me tell you what to expect tonight.” She walked back over to him. “Once you enter the den I want you to walk around, introduce yourself, mingle with the ladies, and get to know everyone. I have provided each woman with a black velvet bag full of small platinum boomerangs. If a woman is interested in your services she will place a boomerang in your hand. If it's a regular boomerang then she is allocated one hour with you, but if the boomerang has a diamond chip inserted in it, then she gets two hours. You can then escort her upstairs to one of the available bedrooms. Do you have any questions?”

He shook his head no.

“Good, I'll see you inside.”

Ten minutes later Payce entered the den. Inside were women of every race, nationality, and creed—black women, white women, old women, young women and even a few well-known celebrity women in attendance. The place was swarming with women. It was standing room only. A few guys had three or four women on their arms. He saw Tariq, one of his coworkers from The Dollhouse, escorting a married pop star upstairs. They acknowledged one another with a nod and Payce walked around the room introducing himself to different ladies.

It wasn't long before a sexy, but mysterious woman approached him with a diamond boomerang in her hand. The way she walked up to him and never said a word, but allowed her eyes to talk to him, was alluring. She placed the boomerang in his hand and led Payce upstairs. He followed and watched her hips sway from side to side in a pair of tight fitting white Capri pants. They entered the room and she sat on the end of the bed. She quickly pulled her sea green blouse over her head. Her eyes beckoned for Payce to come closer to her.

Payce thought the woman looked familiar, but he couldn't remember where he had seen her before. Suddenly, it hit him. She was married to a famous football player who played for the Philadelphia Eagles. She was always seen on television at her husbands' football games, cheering him on. Now he was about to do the man's wife. Payce was so excited he wanted to ask her for an autograph.

He was anxious to get started. She lay back on the bed when the police burst into the room.

“This is a raid! Put your hands against the wall! You are under arrest for prostitution.”

Not again,
Payce thought. The police pushed him against the wall, put the cuffs on him, and led him away.

 

 

 

A guard escorted Tressie into the visitor's room. She sat for five minutes on one side of a plexiglass partition before Payce walked in, looking shabby. He sat down in front of her wearing an orange jumpsuit, hair uncombed, and the whites of his eyes turned yellow. He gestured for her to pick up the telephone receiver sitting next to her.

“Hey,” he said into the receiver. “I'm glad you came. I needed to see you.”

“I didn't want to come, but I guess I needed to see for myself that what everyone was saying was true.”

“Tressie, don't listen to what people are saying out on the streets. If you have any questions, ask me. I'm right here. I'm the only one who can provide you with the truth.”

“The truth? You're the one who has been lying to me for months. You lied to me, your parents, and yourself.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Sorry!” she screamed. “Payce, you were selling your body for money.”

He looked down at the floor in shame.

“I thought we were
one
. Didn't you tell me you loved me? I thought you could tell me anything. Last night all I could think about was how many times you left my bed to go to work. I believed you when you said you were going to the Westin, when the truth was you were going to The Dollhouse to fuck somebody's wife.”

“Don't talk like that. You're too much of a lady to talk like that.”

“What do you care? You don't want a lady. You want one of those whores who paid you hundreds of dollars to fuck them.”

“Tressie, I love you.”

“I don't believe you have the audacity to sit in my face and say that. If this glass were not separating us, I'd spit in your face. How do you know one of those women weren't HIV positive?”

“I wore a condom, every time. Tressie, you have got to believe me when I say I'm sorry for what I did and I love you.”

“You have a strange way of showing it.”

“I know I made some mistakes and there is no way I can take it back, but no matter what you say, we are a part of one another. Like you just reminded me, we are one. Nothing can separate us. Not even these bars.”

“What part of
us
,” she stressed her words, “thought it was all right to sleep with other women?” she asked softly with tears in her eyes. She loved him so much, and she couldn't understand how he could betray her in such a way.

“Please don't leave me when I need you most,” he pleaded.

Tressie hated to abandon him. She did love him and he deserved a second chance. Everyone thought the worst of him.
Maybe he just needed someone to care
, she thought.

“Tressie.” He looked into her eyes. “Will you be there for me when I get out?”

“I guess I don't have any choice,” she replied.

 

 

Tressie knelt at the altar and stared up at the cross. Tears had dried on her face. “King of Kings and Lord of Lords, I'm crying out to you today to watch over Payce. I need you to keep him safe while in jail. Protect him, Lord. I know that he did wrong, but I ask that you look past his mistakes and see what's inside his heart. Jesus, you have given so many of us a second chance—a second chance to serve you, a second chance to praise your name—and I know that if given the opportunity, Payce would take the second chance you give to him and use it to glorify your name. God, I ask that you intervene in our relationship. We cannot and will not last without you. We need your strength and your understanding. We are being faced with obstacles that I can't endure, so I ask that you take the burden from me. Amen.”

Tressie stepped away from the altar as Elise walked into the sanctuary.

“Tressie, I heard about what happened with Payce.”

“I don't know what to do,” Tressie cried. “I love him and I don't want to lose him, but how can I trust him after this? What we had is ruined.”

“I understand how you must feel right now, but you did the right thing by coming here to pray. When the Lord answers your prayer, open your heart to accept his answer. It may not be what you want to hear. He may tell you that you and Payce were not meant to be together. Are you prepared to accept that?”

“Elise, how can he not be the one for me? He's the bishop's son.”

“Tressie, you know just as well as I do that being the bishop's son doesn't get you into Heaven. You have to be saved, and if I were you, I'd question whether or not Payce was saved by the things that he has done. Don't think I'm here to judge Payce because I'm not. But don't allow Payce's mistakes to be a burden to you. You deserve better than that. Remember II Corinthians 6:14: ‘Be ye not unequally yoked with non-believers.'” Elise hugged her. “Just think about what I said. The Spirit will lead you in the right direction.”

 

 

 

Tressie ran out of the university library trying to catch the last bus home. If she missed this bus, the next one wasn't scheduled to come until after four o'clock. She had lost track of time doing research for a paper that was due tomorrow. Her classes were over for the day, but she still had a lot of studying to do. Three different instructors had scheduled exams on the same day, and she was prepared to pull an all-nighter and study until dawn.

Running down the sidewalk, she quickly turned the corner and was suddenly knocked to the ground. Her books scattered over the pavement and her purse slid a few feet away from her. Tressie sat on the pavement, ready to call the scoundrel who ran into her and made her miss her bus every dirty four letter word she could think of, when she looked up and was greeted by a familiar face.

Quinton Briscoe smiled back at her and gallantly rose to his feet. “Tressie, are you all right?” He held out his hand to help her up.

She grabbed his hand and brushed the dirt off her clothes. Onlookers who witnessed the accident asked if they were okay. Quinton reassured them that they were both fine.