The Bishop's Daughter (26 page)

“Ophelia, calm down,” Mother says in an exasperated tone.

“You calm down! You think that just because you all paid for everything, you’re running the show.”

Mother laughs. “Pretty much.”

“You ain’t running nothing!” hisses Ophelia.

“You know what?” says Mother, still laughing. “Go ahead and walk down first. I don’t even care.”

“Now you’re letting me walk down first? Because you said so?” Ophelia continues to rage.

After my initial irritation, I find myself watching this argument with sick amusement. Seeing Ophelia’s nostrils flare out like a demented bull’s is the funniest thing that has happened all day.

“Ophelia, you do whatever will make you feel important,” says Mother with a dismissive wave.

If questioned on a witness stand about this incident, I could only tell the jury that after Mother’s statement, Ophelia has spontaneously combusted. Her eyes have bulged out of the sockets, and her fleshy red lipstick covers lips that are trembling madly.

Sascha, bless her heart, makes the horrible mistake of trying to intervene. “Why don’t you two walk down together? The aisle is big enough.”

Ophelia snaps her head in Sascha’s direction. Sascha jerks as if the action has caused her pain.

Ophelia says in front of twenty church members, “Oh, you shut up, you little slut. We wouldn’t even be having this shotgun wedding if you hadn’t got knocked up by my grandson.”

Jaws drop all over the room, including mine. Mother swiftly steps to Ophelia, looking as if she’s ready to do battle. Ophelia plants her feet and places both hands on her hips: a worthy opponent.

Mother hisses, “Ophelia, you’re going to go along with the program as rehearsed, or I will have you forcibly removed from the premises.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” replies Ophelia, but her voice has clearly weakened.

“I would dare. I’ll have security parade you out of here in front of all your guests. And then we’ll go on with the wedding.”

I watch silently as Ophelia meekly lines up with her escort. Even though Mother has won this little battle, Ophelia has a triumphant smirk on her face. I shake my head and glare at that hateful woman. She’s probably been waiting for the perfect opportunity to blurt out Sascha and Kevin’s secret.

I dash over to comfort my sister, who has burst into tears because of Ophelia’s harsh words. A small team has assembled to try to save her makeup, but little streaks of supposedly waterproof mascara are running down Sascha’s cheeks.

“Stop crying,” I whisper to Sascha. “Everyone was going to find out about the baby anyway. It’s no big deal.”

“How could she do that on my wedding day?”

“Why does the black widow spider eat her mate? We’re talking about Sister Ophelia. It’s just what she does. Pull yourself together. This is your day.”

Sascha takes a deep breath. “Okay, I’m fine now. But Mom looks mad.”

“Mad” is much too benign a term to describe the expression on Mother’s face. Her perfectly arched eyebrows are dipped severely toward the bridge of her nose, and her lips are drawn into a tight line. Her meticulously applied matte makeup is overpowered by an angry red undertone that has taken her over from the neck up. It gives the illusion that her blood is literally boiling.

I nod in agreement with Sascha. “Ophelia is going to regret ever saying that.”

But Mother’s wrath will have to wait. We have a wedding to put on, and Mother would never let the congregation know that Ophelia has ruffled her feathers. She takes the arm of her escort and glides out of the women’s lounge, taking her place as the first lady of the church and the mother of the bride.

I hold Sascha’s hand until it’s my turn to walk down the aisle. Then I step gingerly into the sanctuary, trying not to make eye contact with any of the thousands of pairs of eyes staring in her direction.

Inadvertently, my eyes rest on Oscar. He’s scowling. I feel a smile teasing the sides of my lips, because the only thing that would have him
that
heated is Darrin looking at me.

Though I scan the crowd as I walk down the aisle, I can’t find Darrin among the masses of big hats and fancy suits. But the more Oscar scowls, the more desperately I search.

I make it to the front of the church and stand beside the other bridesmaids and directly across from Tyler, the best man. I look out at Oscar again—both of his hands grip the armrests with an intensity that has turned his knuckles white. I follow the direction of Oscar’s darting eyes and finally spot my date.

Darrin is seated next to my brother Kumal Jr., and he’s smiling at me. When we lock gazes, Darrin gives me a wink and mouths, “You look wonderful.”

When Sascha emerges from the rear of the church, all eyes shift in her direction.

All eyes except mine and Darrin’s.

We gaze at each other; I’m trying to communicate a thousand apologies. I think Darrin’s eyes are apologetic, too, although I need more than a heated stare to know there may still be a chance for us. But I feel nothing but peace in my spirit about choosing Darrin.

The ceremony seems to go on forever, with Daddy happily preaching about marriage and family. He looks out at Kumal Jr. with hope in his eyes when he tells Kevin and Sascha how important forgiveness is to a successful and long marriage. I think Daddy wants to make things up to Kumal Jr. He wants to erase the fact that he’s been missing in action for Kumal’s entire life.

I feel a twinge of relief go through my body when Kumal Jr. returns Daddy’s smile. He seems reluctant at first, but he can’t hide his pleasure. This is the best thing that could have happened from that trip to Savannah.

When the ceremony is over, I stand in front of the church alongside my sister, waiting to greet the guests and accept congratulations. As Darrin approaches, my entire body trembles with anticipation. All thoughts of anger and hurt have disappeared. I just want to wrap my arms around Darrin’s neck and say that all is forgiven.

Chapter Forty-four

Darrin

E
moni looks so beautiful. She’s standing in her sister’s receiving line, and she has the most welcoming look on her face.

I have to say that I was apprehensive about accepting a date with Emoni. So afraid that I’m going to ruin things again. But my feelings for Emoni are starting to run deep. I only want to be near her.

After my father had his heart attack, I’d considered going to a culinary arts school in Cleveland or somewhere closer. But something was pulling me back toward the South. I know now what that something is.

I’m in love with this girl.

She’s not just another one-night stand or another someone to
do
. I know I want to have a relationship. I want to see where this thing leads. And if we end up having a wedding ceremony of our own, I’ll be glad about that, too.

I see Oscar staring me down, but I’m not going to mess with the brotha. I did steal his woman. He’s probably got a right to be mad at somebody. I don’t mind if it’s me.

I step to Emoni and pull her close. “Hey, girl.”

“Darrin, you are making me blush.”

“Is that all? Wow. I meant to make you weak in the knees.”

Emoni laughs. “You think you got it like that?”

I whisper in her ear, “I know I do. But you’ve got it like that, too.”

Reluctantly, I let her go and promise that we’ll dance the night away at the reception. On my way to the back of the sanctuary, I see Kumal Jr., and he gives me a hug.

“I see you’re back in the game,” he says with a laugh.

“What? Oh, you mean with Emoni? Maybe I am.”

“Man, you’re in there. She had me confused at Christmas, though, talking about how she was with that other guy.”

“I wasn’t worried at all.”

Kumal Jr. lifts an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Okay, so I was worried, but I’m good now.”

“That’s what I thought.” Kumal’s face turns serious as he continues, “Man, I want to apologize for how I acted that day in Savannah.”

“Totally unnecessary. It was a stressful situation. I’m just glad y’all worked everything out.”

“I know. People keep looking at me all weird, like they can’t believe that I’m Bishop’s son, but he’s claiming me like I’ve been a part of the family my whole life.”

“Bishop is a good man. He’s taught me a lot about Jesus.”

One of the flower girls walks up to me and gives me a note. I excuse myself from Kumal and go to read it in private. It says, “Meet me in Bishop’s office in five minutes.”

The note is in Emoni’s curly handwriting, and I can’t help but grin. I take a look at my watch and will those minutes to fly by. I fold the note back up and put it in my pocket.

When I notice that Emoni has abandoned the receiving line, I make my way to Bishop’s office. She’s there already and perched on the edge of her father’s desk with both arms folded. “Close the door,” she says.

I obey and then wait for her to start. She bites her lip and says, “Darrin, tell me something.”

“Anything.”

“Are you trying to be with me, or am I going to have to share you with the entire singles’ ministry?”

I answer truthfully. “I am only interested in you, Emoni.”

“How do I know that’s the truth?”

“All I can do is give you my word. Is that enough?”

Emoni laughs. “No. That is not enough. Your word has been suspect from time to time.”

“So what do you want me to do?”

“Why don’t you seal it with a kiss?”

I stare at her for a moment, waiting for her to say that she’s playing. But Emoni is dead serious. She’s put it out there, and she’s waiting for me to rise to the occasion.

“In your father’s office? Isn’t that blasphemous?” I ask.

“He’s the bishop, not Jesus!”

I pull Emoni from her father’s desk and give her a chaste hug. She closes her eyes in anticipation, and I place a tiny peck on her lips.

“What was that?” she asks.

“A kiss! You doggin’ my kiss?”

She rolls her eyes. “I can’t stand you.”

“Yes, you can.”

Emoni walks around her father’s desk, looking like she’s ready to start fussing, when she and I both notice at the same time the brown envelope that holds the DNA results for Kumal Jr. It looks undisturbed, like it hasn’t even been opened.

“Is that what I think it is?” she asks.

“Yes. I gave that to your father before Christmas—”

Emoni interjects, “And he still hasn’t opened it.”

“Then how does he know about Kumal Jr.?”

I can answer this question for myself. Bishop had no need to open those results. His heart told him that Kumal Jr. was his son. Reminds me of Tyler’s New Year’s message.

Emoni snatches the envelope. Obviously, her heart needs some hard-core proof. “Should I open this?”

Something feels wrong about this. I just keep thinking about Tyler talking about how God loves us like a parent loves his children. I’ve even got that song that he sang in my head:
“Walk with me, Lord … walk with me …”

I shake my head. “No, Emoni, I don’t think you should—”

Emoni ignores me and opens the metal tab on the envelope. Seems like the results should be sealed, but they’re not, and that’s perfect for Emoni’s curiosity. No one will ever know that she looked. No one but me.

“Walk with me, Lord … walk with me …”

She doesn’t have to tell me what the results say; her expression tells it all. Her mouth falls open, and her eyes widen as she drops the stack of papers to the floor.

She whispers, “He’s not Daddy’s son. He’s not my brother.”

“Walk with me …”

Emoni is frozen in place, so I pick up the results and place them back in the envelope. I take both of Emoni’s shaking hands in mine. “It’s all right, Emoni.” I encircle her with my arms and rock her while she sobs into my chest.

Guilt kept Bishop from opening that envelope. Guilt at leaving Genevieve to the crack cocaine. Guilt at maybe having a son he didn’t know and guilt about not trying to find out.

“Should I tell Daddy?” Emoni asks after her tears have dried.

“No. Bishop Prentiss is a spiritual father to a lot of people. Why not Kumal Jr.?”

“Walk with me …”

Emoni and I walk out of Bishop’s office hand in hand. It feels wonderful having her beside me, like this has all been destined from the beginning of time. Her smile tells me that she’s here for me, like I’m right here for her.

Chapter Forty-five

DIARY OF A not-so-MAD BLACK BLOGGER

What’s good, cyber homies and homettes? I know it’s been a good minute since I updated y’all, so here’s the scoop.

The pastor I told y’all about earlier doesn’t really have an illegitimate son, but he’s adopted the young man into his church family and real family. That’s a true man of God, right? I’m still not telling y’all who it is, because I’ve decided that some things are best left secrets.

But what I will tell y’all is that I’ve fallen hard for the bishop’s daughter. I’m talking ’bout tripped-on-a-banana-peel-and-busted-my-head-open type of falling. She’s digging me, too, … so, sorry, ladies, I’m taken.

My posts are going to be few and far between for the next few weeks, because I’m in culinary arts school. I’m gonna be a chef. Chef Boyarbro, if you will. I’ll keep y’all posted on the important stuff.

Mad Black Blogger signing off … hit me up in the comments!

Discussion Questions for The Bishop’s Daughter

1. When Darrin decides to pursue his story, Shayna quotes Psalm 105:15, which says, “Touch not mine anointed, and do my prophets no harm.” Are Christians prohibited from revealing scandal when it comes to church leaders?

2. Darrin cringes when Shayna mentions the word “relationship.” Do you know any relationship-phobes? Do they exist inside and outside of the church?

3. Emoni describes herself as “not pretty.” Do you think she’s being honest with herself or just superficial? Has her attitude kept her from having relationships?

4. Read Romans 14:16: “Let not then your good be evil spoken of.” How does this apply to finances in the church?

5. Are Emoni, Tyler, and Sascha the typical pastor’s kids? Should a pastor’s children be held to higher moral standards than other youth?