The Bishop's Daughter (16 page)
I start to object, but Dorcas doesn’t wait for a response. She pushes me to the side and starts into my apartment. The countdown starts in my head. Five … four … three … two …
“Oh. Have I interrupted something?” Dorcas asks, her voice laced with attitude.
I reply, “No.”
But Emoni simultaneously says, “Yes.”
Dorcas looks at us both as if she’s trying to decide whom to believe. I try to smooth things over. “We’re doing a project for Bishop.”
“What kind of project?” Dorcas asks.
I’m kind of shocked at her rudeness. It seems uncharacteristic, and it certainly isn’t attractive. Emoni rises from her seat and walks over to Dorcas. “It’s confidential, and we really need to get it finished,” she says.
Okay, now we’re having one of those uncomfortable silences. I hate those. Dorcas shifts her grocery bag from one hip to the other, glaring at Emoni the entire time. Emoni’s smirk looks like a dare—an “I wish you would.”
Dorcas says, “I won’t be in your way at all.”
It’s time to end this. I’m not playing games, and I’m not going to lead anybody on. I’m making a decision right now. It’s Emoni all day and all night.
I say, “Dorcas, our project really is important, but I appreciate your gesture.”
Dorcas’s expression goes dark. “Sure, Darrin. I’ll call you.”
Without another word, not even a goodbye to Emoni, Dorcas leaves the apartment. The fire in her eyes as she walks past tells me that I won’t be redeeming that rain check anytime soon. It’s cool.
Emoni asks as I close the door, “What is she apologizing for?”
“Nothing important. You’ve got a phone call to make, right?”
She takes a deep breath and picks up the cordless phone. Starts dialing the number that she has memorized from the frequency of dialing and hanging up. But she stops halfway through and hangs her head sadly. She’s terrified of knowing the truth, but she can’t go on not knowing the truth.
“Are you going to call anytime soon?” I ask. “Because I’m going to fix myself a snack if you’re not.”
Emoni sucks her teeth. “Did anyone ever tell you that you really stink at moral support?”
“I do support you! But why do I have to do it on an empty stomach?”
“Does your world revolve around food?”
I raise an eyebrow and hope she can read my mind. “Lately, yes.”
Before Atlanta, before Bishop Prentiss and before Freedom of Life, my world revolved around my next bedroom episode. To be honest, I’m not totally cured, but I’m getting there. I just hope I’m not three hundred pounds before it happens.
“Is it good?” Emoni asks me as I smack on my tasty turkey sandwich.
“Yes, it is,” I reply, and offer her the plate. “Do you want some?”
She takes a tiny bite. “It is good,” she comments.
“Honey mustard instead of mayo. That’s the secret.”
“Did you have a girlfriend at home?” Emoni asks.
“Hey! Where did that come from? I thought we were talking about calling Genevieve.”
“I will. In a second. Just answer the question. Did you or did you not have a girlfriend back home in Cleveland?”
I cock my head to one side and sigh. I suppose I’ll tell her the truth, at least about this. “Do you want the long answer or the short answer?”
“The long answer, of course.”
“I’m not going to lie. There was someone,” I say, licking my lips nervously, “but it was only a casual fling to me.”
“To her it was more?”
“I think so, even though I didn’t give her any reason to think that.”
I can see the alarm on her face. She’s wondering if I’m feeling the same way about her.
I try to reassure her. “But I wasn’t trying to live right back then. I feel totally different about you,” I continue.
“How do you mean?”
“I think we have the potential for something long-term, not just a random date or two.”
“Do you mean that? Did you say the same thing to Dorcas?”
She hits me with those rapid-fire questions like she thinks I’m running game. And she’s right to do it. I
am
running game just a little bit. So is she.
“I was attracted to Dorcas, but she’s pretty boring. Plus, I don’t think she’s feeling me anymore.”
“That’s the reason you’re interested in me now? Because Dorcas kicked you to the curb?”
Man, I’ve got to get myself out of this corner. “Is that what you think?”
“I’m not stupid, Darrin. I hope that’s not what
you
think.”
“The truth is, I’ve been interested in you since day one. I just didn’t want to get involved with the pastor’s daughter.”
“Why not?”
Now is the perfect time to tell her about my story, my blog—everything. Instead, I say, “You know what they say about preachers’ kids.”
“I know what they say,” she says with a serious frown. “I hope I’m not proving them right.”
I take her by the hand in an effort to reassure her. “You’re not. Not at all. In fact, I think we have the potential for something special.”
“Or the potential for you to get some more booty, right?”
I’m insulted. “I know you don’t believe that. Girl, I’ve had enough booty for an entire lifetime. I want something more than that.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what to think, Darrin. I mean, we’ve done this thing backward, and now I’m thinking it was a bad move.”
“It
was
a bad move.”
She blinks rapidly, like she’s trying to stop a waterfall of tears.
I need to clarify. “It was a bad move, because if God wants us to get together, I know He didn’t want us to sin in the process.”
“Wow.” Emoni chuckles softly. “Doesn’t it seem like I should be saying that? I am the bishop’s daughter, right?”
“It’s all right, girl. You just got caught up. I have that effect on women.”
Emoni rolls her eyes and throws a couch pillow at me. We needed that joke. Needed to lighten up the atmosphere. I feel better now that we’ve got it out in the open.
Emoni picks up the phone. “This time I’m calling. For real,” she says.
I say nothing, only watch her as she dials. She taps her foot nervously and exhales. This thing is deep for her.
“Hello,” says Emoni. “May I speak to Genevieve?” She hits the speaker button so I can hear the conversation.
“Yes. Can I tell her who is calling?” says the male voice. It sounds like Kumal Jr.
The simplest of questions almost floors Emoni. “Um … yes. I’m Emoni Prentiss.” There is a deafening silence on the other end. Emoni says, “Hello?”
“Yes. Hold on one minute.”
Emoni trembles as she waits for Genevieve to come to the phone. I move closer to her and cover one of her shaking hands with my own.
Finally, a female voice answers. “Hello, this is Genevieve.” It sounds like she’s been sleeping or slumming or both. Kumal had told us she was sick, but she sounds near death.
“Hello! I’m Emoni Prentiss. I’m calling to ask if your son is really my brother.”
There’s more silence on the other end. Emoni looks worried. Maybe Genevieve won’t answer. Maybe she’ll hang up on us.
Emoni continues, “I believe that you and your son were at my father’s preaching engagement in Savannah.”
We hear a heavy, rattled sigh from Genevieve. “Why you calling me? What do it matter, anyway?”
“It matters because if I have a brother, I’d like to know him. I want him in our lives … at holidays … and weddings.”
Genevieve laughs. “How’s Diana?”
“My mother? She’s fine. You know her?”
“Yeah, I know her. She’s the reason why you don’t know your brother.”
“Oh.” Emoni exhales.
“She didn’t think the son of a crackhead would be good for yo’ daddy’s brand-new ministry.”
I’m watching Emoni, trying to gauge her reaction. She’s in shock, but she’s listening to Genevieve, trying to believe her.
“Are you sure he is the father?” asks Emoni.
Again Genevieve laughs. “I’m a drug addict, sweetie, not a whore. Your father was my man. So, yes, I’m sure.”
“Do you think Kumal Jr. will see me?”
“Ask him yourself.”
Emoni looks at me with hope in her eyes. I just hope that these two aren’t out to use her or take advantage of the Prentiss family.
“Hello?” says Kumal Jr.
“Hi. It’s your sister, Emoni.”
“How are you, little sister?”
Emoni laughs out loud. There’s joy behind that laugh. Not much, but it’s there.
“Would you like to have lunch with me, big brother?”
Kumal Jr. laughs, too. “I’d love to. Here or Atlanta?”
“I’ll come to you. There’s a place on Tybee Island that I like called the Crab Shack.”
“I know the place.”
“How about Friday at two p.m.?”
“It’s a date.”
“Okay, then, let your mother know I’m praying for her health. I’ll see you later.”
“Bye, little sister.”
Emoni presses the release button on the phone and beams up at me. “I’m going to lunch with my brother.”
I nod with a tight smile. My mind is spinning. I’m suddenly feeling apprehension about this meeting. “I don’t mean to sound negative, because I think this is a good thing, but what if he’s not your brother?”
“He is. He looks just like my father.”
“Stranger things have happened.”
She ponders my words for a moment. “How will I know? Daddy won’t take a paternity test.”
I reach into the drawer under my coffee table and hand Emoni a package that I had shipped overnight.
“What is this?”
“Open it.”
Emoni opens the unmarked brown box and gasps. “A DNA test? For me? You shouldn’t have.”
This is why I’m liking this girl. “I said I’d help you find out the truth.”
“So what do I need? A hair? Blood?”
“Saliva.”
“That’s easy.”
“It’s easy to get someone’s spit? How is that easy?”
“It’s easy when the someone has a spit cup next to his side of the bed.”
“That’s nasty.”
Emoni laughs. “Mother thinks so, too.”
“So what if the test comes back negative?”
Emoni pauses before replying. “If he’s not my brother, then I’ll forget this ever happened.”
“That’s a plan. Do you want me to come with you to Savannah?”
“You would do that for me?”
“Of course.”
Emoni wraps her arms around my neck and kisses me on the lips in one fluid motion. She’s got to stop doing that. Catches my flesh off guard every time. I stand up and back away from her. “Emoni … don’t.”
“Don’t what? Why don’t you want to kiss me?”
She knows these are dangerous waters. “I didn’t say that.”
“So you do want to kiss me?”
“You’re making this difficult, Emoni.”
Her expression is one of irritation. “I don’t get you. You say you think we can have something long-term, but you won’t even kiss me.”
“Let me break this down for you. You know how an alcoholic who’s trying to get sober won’t even go in a bar?”
“Yes. What does that have to do with you?”
I take her hand and look her in the eyes. I want her to know how sincere I am. “If we start a fire, Emoni, I don’t know if I’ll be able to put it out. I’m not strong enough for that yet. And I don’t want you to be just another one-night stand.”
“I don’t want that, either.”
“So no matter how much I want to kiss you right now, I’m not going to.”
“It’s for the best. I don’t want to end up pregnant, like my sister.”
I feel my eyes widen with surprise. “Sascha’s pregnant?”
“Yep. She and Kevin are getting married, too.”
“Now, that should be interesting.”
“I guess. I mean, why is all of this drama happening to my family? We go twenty-four years drama-free, and then all at once everyone goes crazy.”
“Twenty-four years? You all are overdue,” I say with a smile.
My moment of weakness over, I sit down next to Emoni on the sofa. She lays her head on my chest and sighs. “Is this okay?”
“I’m not just a walking sex drive. I do have some self-control.”
“Good, because I need a hug.”
I wrap my arms around Emoni and squeeze tightly. She relaxes in my embrace. Soon I start to feel the wetness of her tears as they soak through my shirt. I rock her back and forth in my arms, thinking that I wouldn’t mind being here with her for the rest of my life.
Emoni
Y
ou don’t actually think you’re dating him, do you?” asks Oscar.
“What’s it to you?” I snap right back.
Oscar is waiting in our family room for Daddy to come downstairs. He’s taking Daddy to a pastoral luncheon at one of our sister churches. After a few days of fasting and praying, Daddy’s back to his usual church business, as if everything is roses. Just like Mother started planning Sascha’s wedding after everything calmed down.
But everything is not roses. And Oscar gets on my nerves.
“I’m just surprised he picked you over Dorcas. I thought they were getting close.”
“You thought wrong.”
Oscar fumes, “What do you see in him, anyway? What did Dorcas see? And don’t you women have some unspoken code about not dating each other’s boyfriends?”
“Darrin was never her man. They were just friends.”
“And now he’s your man?”
“Again I ask: What’s it to you?”
“Everything that goes on in this family is important to me, Emoni. I care about you—y’all. I’m just doing my job.”
“Oscar, I don’t need an armor bearer. I’m cool.”
“But you do need a man who wants more from you than sex.” His tone has changed from fatherly to something I’m absolutely uncomfortable with.
“What are you talking about?”
Oscar sits down next to me on the sectional. Our legs touch, and it gives me the creeps. I hope he doesn’t notice me scooting away from him.
“I’m talking about you and me.”
I spring up from the couch. “Awww! Why’d you have to go and say that?”
“Because it’s what I want. And it was what you wanted, too, until Darrin came along.”
I don’t get to respond because Daddy finally comes downstairs looking so fresh and clean. Not a care in the world. Especially not about Kumal Jr.
“Emoni, when you get a chance, will you run to the cleaners for me? I’ve got some robes in there that I need next week.”