Flaw Less (8 page)

Sullivan looked down at her red-bottomed stilettos. “Well, the Christian I had in mind is usually followed by the words Dior or Louboutin, but the Christ thing works too.”

Lawson rolled her eyes. “I'm sure our Lord and Savior is flattered.”

“Speaking of babies,” began Angel, “what's up with baby number two, Lawson? Are you as anxious to be a new mom as Sullivan?”

Lawson stopped folding and sighed. “Can I be honest with you?”

“Yes, you know that,” answered Angel.

She peeked out of the window to make sure Garrett's car was out of the driveway and that he'd taken off with Namon. “I know it sounds selfish, but I don't really want any more kids right now. My career is finally taking off, Namon is independent, and I really just want to enjoy this time with my husband. We're still newlyweds, for God's sake!”

Kina shook her head. “I don't think it's selfish, but I think you need to tell Garrett how you feel.”

“I know, but it'll crush him. He really wants to be a dad. I feel like such a bad wife for not giving him the child he wants, especially since he's been so good to Namon.”

“It only makes you a bad wife if you don't tell him,” replied Angel. “Garrett loves you, Lawson. He'll understand if you want to wait.”

“Just don't keep any more secrets from him,” warned Kina. “You know what happened when you didn't tell him about Mark proposing to you and the disaster
that
was!”

“Yeah, I know,” said Lawson, remembering how devastated he was after discovering secrets she and Mark were keeping from him. She dropped her head. “I know.”

“. . . there is nothing concealed that will not be disclosed, or hidden that will not be made known. What I tell you in the dark, speak in the daylight; what is whispered in your ear, proclaim from the roofs,” quoted Angel from Matthew 10:26–27. “Honesty is always the best policy—”

“Until it's not!” asserted Sullivan. “The Bible also says, ‘He who holds his tongue is wise.'” Sullivan shook her head. “I've seen it backfire too many times when people go blabbing their mouths when they shouldn't. Some men simply can't handle the truth. Then the new best policy becomes, ‘We're all entitled to have our secrets. '”

—
Angel King

 

 

“You'll never believe what I just got us!” proclaimed Duke, coming home from work.

“I can't imagine what it is.” Angel smiled up at her fiancé from behind the stems of roses she was arranging into a vase. “You've already given me the world, not to mention these gorgeous roses you had delivered to me at work today.” She planted a kiss on his lips. “You know how to make your woman feel like a queen, don't you? Your efforts are greatly appreciated and shall be richly rewarded.”

“The rewards don't stop there, babe.” He handed her two tickets.

“What's this?”

“Two tickets to see comedian Kevin Hart!” announced Duke. “He's in town for a show the day after Thanksgiving, and we'll be in the front row laughing our butts off all night long!”

Angel's face fell. “Oh . . .”

“What's the matter? I thought you'd be thrilled. You used to love stand-up.”

“Yeah, ten years ago, but I gave all that raunchy stuff up when I started to get serious about my walk with the Lord. I'd love to go see a Christian comedian, though,” she proposed.

“I admit, he cusses a li'l bit, but it's not exactly what I'd call ‘raunchy.'”

“All it takes is allowing a little spark of that stuff to get into your system. Before you know it, there's a whole fire burning.”

Duke apologized. “I'm sorry. I thought you'd get a kick out of going. I'll see if I can sell the tickets or give them away.”

“No, just because I don't want to go doesn't mean you shouldn't. You can call up some friends and make it a night out with the boys.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, baby, I want you to go and have a good time,” she assured him. “The girls and I will stay home and find G-rated ways to entertain ourselves.”

Duke draped his arms around her. “How did I get blessed with such a good woman, huh?”

Angel smirked. “God must really love you.”

“He must—He sent you. I love you, Angel. I do.”

“You're going to love me even more when I tell you what I'm cooking for dinner,” she hedged, rising from the sofa.

“What's that?”

“Shrimp Newburg. I haven't made it in years, but I do remember that it's one of your favorites.”

This time,
his
face changed. “Um, about that . . .”

“What?”

“I don't really eat that anymore. Reese was allergic to shrimp, so I pretty much stopped eating it too.”

“Wow . . .” She sighed. “I didn't realize how much we don't have in common anymore. It's scary how fast things can change.”

He pulled her into his arms. “We may have changed our tastes in food and entertainment, but we still have a lot in common, including
this
.” He kissed her. “It doesn't feel so scary now, does it?”

She shook her head and smiled. “No, it doesn't. I guess we don't have to be afraid of change when we serve a God who is the same yesterday and today and forever.”

At that moment, Duke's phone rang. “I'm going to go in the kitchen to take this.”

“Okay.”

Duke disappeared into the kitchen while Angel set her new flower arrangement in the foyer.

When he returned a few minutes later, the color was gone from his face. “That was my aunt Jackie,” he began slowly, still in shock. “My cousin Channing was shot in Afghanistan last night. Apparently, the Humvee he was driving was shot up by some Afghan locals. He was trying to get his comrades out of Dodge when a bullet went through the door.”

“Oh my God!” Angel held her chest. “Is he dead?”

“No—thank God—but his knee was damaged pretty badly. It's shattered. There's no way he can complete his physical training now. My aunt believes he'll probably be medically discharged from the military.”

She was relieved. “That seems pretty minor compared to what could've happened.”

Duke shook his head. “You don't know Channing, babe. He's a soldier from the heart. If he can't serve, that bullet might as well have killed him.”

“Maybe God has a different calling on his life. Did anyone consider that?”

“Angel, the army is the only thing he's known since he was eighteen. He's been in the service for fifteen years. God's call or not, this is going to crush him.”

Angel slid her arms around his him. “Well, let's send him a care packet or something. Where's he going to be staying?”

“He'll be in a hospital overseas for a couple of weeks. I don't know his plans after that. You know, Chan's single, no kids, and no real family outside of my aunt and a few cousins. Aunt Jackie isn't in the best health herself. I was thinking about inviting him to stay with us for a little while, just until he can get back on his feet.”

Angel backed away. “I'm sure a house full of kids is the last thing he needs right now. He's going to want a quiet place to rest and recover. He can't do that here.”

“Babe, my cousin sacrificed his body and risked his life for this country and for us. There's no way I'm going to turn my back on him or ship him a box of cookies and send him on his way.”

“I didn't say you shouldn't support him. I just said that our home may not be an ideal place to recuperate.”

“Why not? I think it's perfect. We have all this room, and you're a nurse.”

“I'm
a
nurse, not
his
nurse. Duke, I work. I can't provide round-the-clock care for him.”

“Nobody's asking you to, but, Angel, he's family. I wish you wouldn't fight me on this.”

Angel sighed, knowing that she would give in to Duke yet again. “All right, fine. I guess taking him in is the Christian thing to do. What's one more mouth to feed?”

“Thank you, sweetheart. This means so much to me.” He pulled his cell phone back out. “I'm gonna call my aunt and let her know that Chan can stay with us.”

Duke returned to the kitchen, and Angel sunk into the sofa, defeated. She knew in her heart that taking in Duke's cousin was the right thing to do, but the last thing she needed was another King to serve.

—
Sullivan Webb

 

 

Sullivan spent the morning in her pajamas and sipping on coffee. Nostalgia and an old Christmas CD had inspired her to look through old photos. Her eyes began to water as she flipped through her wedding album. Charles looked so dapper in his tuxedo and, of course, she was effortlessly beautiful. That day was filled with so much joy and promise. Now, she feared that her marriage was one wrong decision away from divorce.

Sullivan was startled out of her thoughts by a knock at the door. She opened it to find Kina on the other side.

Sullivan stood in the doorway with her arms crossed. “Shouldn't you be tending to the business of the Lord?”

Kina let herself in. “The pastor left his laptop at home. I offered to swing by and get it.”

Sullivan closed the door behind her. “That was nice of you.”

“Truth be told, I needed a little break. Plus, I wanted to see you. How've you been? You look sad.”

Sullivan invited Kina into the living room. “I was traipsing down memory lane.” She showed Kina one of the pictures. “Remember this?”

Kina reached for the album. “Yeah, you were such a beautiful bride. And, Pastor . . . when we saw the way he looked at you and when he started crying saying his vows . . .” Kina sighed. “I don't think there was a dry eye in the church at that moment. Well, you know, except for yours.”

“Kina, I was not about to ruin a two-hundred-dollar air-brushed makeover for the sake of sentiment. But you're right, it was a beautiful ceremony,” recalled Sullivan. “It's funny how quickly things change.”

Kina and Sullivan both sat down on the sofa. “Things aren't any better, huh?”

“Charles isn't mean or anything like that, but there's definitely been a shift in the tide. He doesn't look at me the way he did on our wedding day anymore.”

“Sullivan, a lot has happened, and a lot of it isn't pretty. Even before the Vaughn thing, you and the pastor had problems.”

“Charles was always the one fighting for our marriage and trying to keep it together while I self-destructed. Now . . .”

“It's not so much fun when the shoe is on the other foot, is it?” gibed Kina.

Sullivan shook her head. “No, it's not.”

“I can relate to what you're going through. When E'Bell was alive, I was always the one trying to hold the marriage together. He acted like he couldn't care less. I felt so alone. You don't marry someone expecting to be lonely in that relationship.” Kina hung her head slightly. “Loneliness probably isn't a feeling you can really relate to. You always seem to love your own company so much.”

“Well, you know I
do
love me some Sullivan Webb,” she joked, then turned serious again. “But, as humans, we still need to connect. I never had a lot of that growing up. You remember how my mom and I were always moving. You and Lawson were my only sources of stability until I met Charles. Even with him, it's often felt like I was in competition with the church and God. I think that was the impetus for my affair with Vaughn. I thought I was just bored and needed some fun interjected in my life, but when it came down to it, Vaughn was someone I connected with.”

“Do you miss him?”

Sullivan flinched. “God, no! What I miss is having that connection to someone.”

“Well, I still think you got off kind of easy,” grunted Kina.

“How, Kina? Thanks to the Internet, the whole world knows about my little indiscretion with Vaughn. I was humiliated, Charles lost his bid for county commissioner, and my marriage is still trying to recover. What part of that is
easy
?”

“It could've been worse, Sully. Pastor could've walked out on you or you could've gotten an STD. Heck, you could've gotten pregnant! Then what would you have done?”

“Good point.” Sullivan shuddered at the thought. “Can you imagine having Vaughn's bastard seed trapped inside of me?”

Kina laughed. “No, especially not when you put it that way! You were lucky, the young ones are always fertile! I'm glad you made him don a raincoat before jumping in the pool, if you know what I mean.”

“Thank you for that very poetic way of putting things, Kina,” Sullivan replied dryly.

“We can dress up the pig as much as we want, Sully, but a pig is still a pig.” Kina stood to leave. “I guess I better grab that laptop and get out of here.”

“It's in the study, down the hall. You can't miss it.”

As Kina made her way to the study, Sullivan's mind wandered back to Vaughn, more specifically to his virile, strapping, young twenty-five-year-old sperm. If only the situation had been in reverse and Charles had been the one who had the libido of a frat boy and the reproduction capability of a jackrabbit.

“Too bad I didn't freeze some of that good sperm when I had the chance,” she muttered. She halted, struck by a new thought.

She laughed to herself. It was an idea crazy even by Sullivan's standards. She had every confidence that, with prayer and plenty of practice, Charles's half-a-century-old sperm would produce a little Webb of their own in no time.

Then again, she thought, there was nothing wrong with having a little insurance on the side.