The Devil Made Me Do It (8 page)

Esther slowed down and hit three on her cell. “Phyllis, I'm in your driveway. Please open up.”

Phyllis played her music loud. Esther learned to call ahead and cut out the bother of knocking and not being heard.

The front door swung open, and Phyllis looked chic in a designer sweat suit with her hair hanging in a smooth ponytail. Her skin was flawless, her thick eyebrows arched to perfection. Her large doe eyes were her best feature, and she and Esther shared the same cinnamon skin tone. She worked out daily to maintain her size ten figure.

“Outta my way,” Esther cried as she ran past Phyllis down the hallway to the closest bathroom.

“Goodness! Just like when you were a kid. You were always waiting until the last minute. It would have served you right if I had waited to open the door,” Phyllis called out to Esther through the bathroom door.

“Whatever,” she shouted. “Please, get away from the door. Dang, Phyllis.”

Phyllis chuckled and went into her family room. As she turned off her stereo, Esther slinked in. “Girl, I hope you haven't been anywhere else besides my house because you look a hot mess.”

“Please don't tell me that, Phyllis. Do I really look bad?” Esther was embarrassed.

“Yes, child, look like you stank. What were you thinking wearing that old droopy jogging suit, and when are you due for a touch-up on your hair?” Phyllis grabbed Esther's hat off her head.

Esther was mortified even more about running into Briggs. “Ummm . . . I did run by the church.”

“No, you didn't! Looking like
that?
” Phyllis circled Esther.

Esther stuttered. “I was only supposed to be there for a minute but—”

“You didn't see anybody but Reverend, did you?”

Red crept up Esther's neck. “Uh, I saw Naomi.”

“Well, that's okay because Naomi has no fashion sense, and Reverend loves us so much I don't think he notices what we wear.”

“ . . . And . . .” Esther said, drawing the word out slowly.

“. . . And . . .?” asked Phyllis just as slow.

“The new interim pastor,” Esther finished quickly. Her entire face and neck were flushed.

“What?” Phyllis stood back and cataloged her sister. Esther looked back at her with a deadpan expression on her face. Their eyes caught each other's, and they squealed with laughter.

When Phyllis stopped holding her stomach, she wiped her eyes and said, “Girl, hand me that phone. While you prepare to tell me all about it, I'm calling Ki Ki's to get you a hair appointment.”

Esther handed the phone to her sister and plopped down on her sofa. She decided right then not to share with Phyllis her and Briggs's past.

Thank God, back in the day, I never told her my business,
Esther thought. Sometimes, it was easier to keep things to herself than hear a lecture from her big sister.

Phyllis hung up the phone. “Okay, you have a three o'clock appointment. I might as well ride along, and get Cathy to do my nails. We have an hour. Let's eat, and you can tell me all about our new pastor,” Phyllis said as she headed to her kitchen.

During their drive, Esther and Phyllis talked all the way to the salon. Phyllis tried to get the scoop on Mother Reed and Esther's Sunday conversation, but Esther still avoided answering. Mostly, because Phyllis was too nosy. Soon, they arrived and entered the upscale beauty salon and day spa.

Three hours later, Esther admired her hair as she shook it back and forth in the mirror. She had splurged and had golden highlights added to her rich brown hair. Her edges were smooth, and she could see the shimmer from her hair's glossiness reflected in the beautician's mirror.

Phyllis joked, “Well, now I know that the new pastor is fine.”

“Excuse me?” Esther said; then she tripped over the foot railing of the salon chair.

Phyllis waved her freshly colored nails at Esther as she paid for her hair and they left the shop. “You do know your clumsiness is a dead giveaway, you're nervous or excited?”

Esther kept looking straight-ahead, hoping Phyllis would be quiet.

“As a matter of fact, I take back my earlier statement. The new pastor must be supa fine. You even had highlights placed in your hair. When's the last time you did that? Girl, how old is this man?”

Esther stopped walking in frustration. “Sis, it was your idea for me to get my hair done.”

“No, I said you needed a relaxer, but you chose to have the works. So, is he fine?”

“Bye, Phyllis, I'm going home now. I'll talk to you later,” Esther raced to her car.

Phyllis stopped in the middle of the parking lot, and started laughing. “Now I
know
you're tripping. He must be finger-lickin' chicken, good looking. You're all flustered and losing your mind to boot,” Phyllis hooted.

“Losing my mind? Girl, please. You're the one who's nuts.” Esther opened her car door.

Phyllis swiftly intercepted and placed her hand on top of her sister's, stopping her from leaving. “Because . . . I rode here with you. Remember?” Phyllis sang smugly.

Esther's mouth fell open. “Get in and not one more word, Phyllis. I mean it. You say one thing, and it better be the word
cab
,” Esther snarled.

Phyllis got inside, closed the door, folded her arms, and grinned. “I've been trying to get you to up your game for a minute. And it's always, ‘No, I'm too busy for all that nonsense.' Now, all of a sudden, you ready to put some—‘Ooh, baby, baby' back in your style. Girl, it's about time.”

Esther threw up her hand and sliced the air for Phyllis to be quiet.

“I'm just saying, that's all . . .” Phyllis whispered as she smiled and looked out the window.

Esther glanced down at her watch and shut down her computer. She then checked her appearance in her compact mirror. Not wanting to be late, she left her office with time to spare. “I'm leaving for a lunch meeting, Simone.”

Simone looked up and smiled. “Yes, ma'am. By the way, I love the new hairdo.”

“Thanks, me too,” Esther grinned and patted her hair.

“Well, you do look good. That deep chocolate suit is banging on you, and the color brings out the golden tones in your skin.” Simone continued to catalogue her wardrobe. “The jacket is too cute, the three-quarter sleeves are different. Yes, there's pizzazz in this new look. Someone is a lucky man this lunch hour,” Simone said being obvious in her attempt to get into Esther's business.

“Okay, now you're dipping,” Esther joked.

Simone was a serial dater, and she thought that was the only way to live. Esther had caught her on more than one occasion listening in on Esther's male phone calls, always hoping to hear some gossip. Simone was always disappointed.

Simone knew that Esther disliked her borderline ghetto fabulous ways. But, Esther knew that Simone had her back, and there was no one more loyal. She was also a good worker. So, she didn't sweat the little things about Simone that irritated her.

“While you're all up in my business, Simone, you probably have your own plans for this evening.”

“Oh yes, I do.... I'm gon' be all holed up with this good-looking, chocolate fountain of Almond Joy. Yes Ma'am, I plan to sweat my hair out,” Simone said while snapping her fingers.

“Okay, Sweetie, that was way too much information. This is still a business, and I'm still your boss. Hold that kind of talk down. I definitely have to get back to praying for you.”

Esther headed out of the building, waving at her coworkers along the way. She was looking forward to lunch, and if given the chance, digging into Briggs's post college life.

 

 

The restaurant valet opened an anxious Esther's door. She swung her body to get out of the car, stretched out her leg, caught her boot heel in the bottom of her skirt, and literally fell out. Strong male hands caught her before she could land on the pavement.

“Gotcha,” Briggs chuckled.

Esther's face burned with embarrassment. “Hello, Briggs. I guess some things never change,” she said as she tugged at her skirt to straighten it and pulled down her jacket.

Briggs was a gentleman, and he didn't answer. Esther imagined he remembered how she would always fall, stumble, or bump into something when she was excited or nervous.

Entering the restaurant, she wondered what Briggs was thinking. He had become quiet and contemplative. “So, Briggs, seems you keep catching me at my best,” Esther prodded, seeking some direction of his thoughts.

“Anytime I see you it's good.” Briggs grasped her by the elbow to guide her into the restaurant.

At the tingle of skin on skin contact, they both went motionless. “Was that an electric shock from the carpet?” Briggs asked.

Esther shrugged and took off into the dim restaurant. Soulful jazz played in the background of the Chop House. The coziness of the surroundings invited patrons to sit down and relax. The hostess greeted them, and Briggs gave her Reverend Gregory's name.

“Your party is waiting for you. It would be my pleasure to show you to your table,” the hostess said, her entire demeanor focused on Briggs.

Esther's eyes shot daggers at her. She spoke low, between gritted teeth and stiff lips, hoping the woman heard her. “He's a man of the cloth. Pull your claws in before lightning strikes you, Delilah.”

Briggs looked startled and coughed into his hand. Esther turned to him innocently with a question on her face, and Briggs grinned.

The hostess, ignoring Esther, swayed her hips in tune to her own inner rhythm as she led them to their table. Her emerald eyes twinkled like the hills of Ireland they reigned from as they remained focused on Briggs. “The Chop House hopes you have a wonderful lunch. My name is Maura, if you need anything. Please let me know.” As she stressed the word
please
, she winked at Briggs, bending cleavage level to hand him his menu. “We do aim to please. Your waiter will be here shortly.”

Briggs gave another short cough. “Thank you, Maura. I'm sure we will enjoy it.”

Reverend Gregory shook hands with Briggs, and then reached forward and hugged Esther.

The reverend witnessed the hostess's antics and mopped his brow. “I tell you, Briggs, the way you have with women is something else. As a man of God, you must be careful about the attention women will want to give you. Even us older pastors have women who forget we are just men.”

“Amen,” Esther said. She then turned crimson.
The man is kryptonite
,
and like Superwoman, a sista getting a little weak
. Esther fanned her face with her menu.

Briggs unfolded and slid his napkin onto his lap. “Sometimes people just need to be noticed to make their day. I was only being cordial, but, Reverend, thanks for looking out for my welfare.”

“So . . .” Esther said opening the menu, “how would you like to start off? Would you like to review the church's special projects first?” She felt rebuked for some reason after Reverend Gregory's comments and her slip of the tongue. She wanted to get right down to business.

“I'm in both of your capable hands,” Briggs said.

“Esther, why don't we start with the church's community development project?” Reverend Gregory began.

Esther leaned forward with enthusiasm and used her hands to gesture as she spoke. “Around four years ago, a member approached our Daughters of the Vine group concerning furniture for her child's bedroom. She was a young mother and little Ricky had outgrown his crib.” Esther paused to catch her breath. Talking about the church's program ignited her passion for helping others. “Our group believes that scripture speaks to us as Christians to do more than pray for our brethren. Jesus asks that we feed the hungry, clothe the naked, and house the homeless.” Esther took a deep breath and chuckled. “Sorry, I can get a little carried away.”

The waiter approached their table and took their orders.

“Please go on,” Briggs said.

Reverend Gregory beamed at Esther. “I'm enjoying the retelling of it!”

“When I went out to Tracy's apartment I was appalled. There were holes in the walls, windows painted shut, and some were broken. Tracy had used plastic to cover them, but the apartment was still full of flies. On top of everything, the neighborhood was unsafe, with vagrants hanging in the hallways and on the street. The front door was flimsy, off alignment, and wouldn't close properly. Tracy had to put a chair underneath the doorknob each night, and she prayed that nobody barged in.”

“What about the landlord?” Briggs asked with indignation.

“If you could find him, he made promises that were never kept. Tracy, and most people like her, didn't know how or who to complain to. Poverty is just as much about the lack of resources as money. Tracy only earns minimum wage.”

“Family support?”

“We are her family. Her grandmother was a faithful member before her death. Now we stand in the gap. Tracy was the church's inspiration,” Reverend Gregory said.

Esther nodded in agreement. “When I returned to church, I couldn't shake the feeling that something more needed to be done. I wondered what good would a new bed for a child do in those conditions. Tracy didn't even have a bed. She was sleeping on a worn-out couch. I wanted to do more than just complain, and so did the other members. We prayed about the situation, and a door opened.” Esther looked up and paused as a waiter placed their entrées before them.

“Briggs, will you bless the table?” Reverend Gregory asked.

Briggs said grace, and they began to eat.

“Esther, I know we need to eat, but please continue if you can. I want to hear the rest,” Briggs requested.

“No problem, I can do both,” Esther said and waved her fork in the air as if to shoo away any doubt that she couldn't. She was in her element and enjoying relaying the chain of events. “We have a wonderful congregation, and some have been materially blessed. We took the problem to them, and one of our newest members came up and said he had many rental properties, and that he wanted to give a duplex to the church. He said it needed a lot of work, but if we did the repairs, it was ours. Well, every plumber, carpenter, electrician, painter, and one or two Indian chiefs stood up and offered their services free of charge.”

Reverend Gregory and Briggs laughed.

“You haven't seen anything until you see church folk outdoing each other,” Reverend Gregory added.

“You're so right,” Esther agreed, “but they have good hearts.”

Reverend Gregory hit the table in delight. “Yes, they do. I was so pleased with them. We had a big celebration after the project was finished.”

Briggs assessed Esther's animated face. “You really are in your element.” He rubbed his chin as he murmured, “So your clumsiness was due to nervousness or excitement? Wonder which one.”

Reverend Gregory leaned over. “Say that last part again, Briggs. My hearing isn't what it used to be.”

“Sorry, just thinking out loud,” Briggs replied.

“Anyway,” Esther continued, “we rented the other side out to another church member, and then used the duplex to leverage other properties. Now we have twenty properties, and we have a full-time housing manager. We make the homeless with children and those families living in dilapidated housing our priority.”

Pleased, Briggs clasped his hands together. “Love Zion is doing a lot more in the community than I realized. And Tracy?”

“Our first resident,” Reverend Gregory boasted. “Many churches today are helping the community. People are busy talking about how much money we take, but few recognize how much is given back.” Reverend Gregory slid his chair back and stood, placing his hand on Briggs's shoulder. “Learning all of this will take some time, but it will come. I hate to leave you, but I have another appointment. I've taken care of the bill, so please stay and enjoy the meal. I'm leaving you in capable hands.”

“Yes, I see that. I'll see you at your home later?”

“No, meet me at the church around six; we still have other paperwork to get through.”

“I'll be there. I'm sure Esther will take care of me until then.” Briggs's eyes rested on Esther.

Esther stood and hugged Reverend Gregory. When she sat down, Briggs was staring at her. “What?”

“The Esther I'm seeing today is the Esther I remember from college and more. You always were in the middle of any good fight, but now you've added compassion for others. The church is blessed to have members who commit not only their tithes, but also their time. Esther, you are a gift.” Briggs leaned back in appreciation.

Esther blushed at his compliments. She looked down and used her fork to move her food aimlessly around her plate. Then she exhaled, determined that he wouldn't rattle her.

She dabbed her mouth with her napkin. “I didn't do it alone. It was first God, and then those who answered His call that made all of this work.”

Briggs rubbed his hands together in anticipation. “I look forward to meeting with all the members.”

“You're excited.” Esther grinned at his apparent eagerness.

“Well, Dad is pretty well-known, and he cast a big shadow. This is my chance to break out on my own and see what God has in store for me. Seems I've always been someone's something. Coming here like this lets people know me for just me before they know the family I belong to; they've produced pretty big shoes to fill. I want everyone to know me first as their shepherd, a man of God, even if it is a temporary assignment.”

“You always were closed mouth,” Esther said. “I remember getting angry with you because you never let the girls who drooled over you know that you had a girlfriend. I was always defending my territory.” Esther put up her small fists in a mocking fight stance.

Briggs grimaced. “I wasn't interested in those girls. But you were so popular on campus the guys use to call me Mr. Wiley.”

Esther's hand flew to cover her mouth. “Oh no.”

“Oh yes, it was humiliating, so, now, I try to keep my own identity for as long as possible. I guess my overreaction came from a lifetime of being the son of such a revered man. Everyone wanted to open doors for me because of him. I wanted them to open because of me.” Briggs zoned out, caught in past memories.

“I never knew that.” Feelings of empathy for him washed over her.

Briggs shrugged his shoulder. “It isn't something you tell your girlfriend.”

Esther's gaze explored Briggs's. “So, you feel that your time has come?”

“Yes, no matter what, this time I rise or fall on my relationship with God; not the people's around me relationship with man.”

Esther's smile built slow, and then was wide and bright. “I have faith you'll do just fine.” She evaluated him for a moment in silence. “I remember a few things about you from the old days too. Like, your determination to succeed, your willingness to listen, and your sense of integrity in dealing with people. You're assisting God, He's not assisting you. Let Him lead; you just follow.”

“Well, all right, Ms. Thang, teach the children.” Briggs raised both his hands in a praise salute.

Esther snickered. “A little over the top?”

“Just a touch,” he said pinching his fingers together.

“Sorry.”

“Apology accepted.” He was enjoying her. He shook his head in amusement. “I can't wait to get started. Girl, you've got me motivated.”

Esther scooted her chair back preparing to pick up her napkin that slid under the table. At the same time, Briggs jumped up to pull her chair out, believing that she was rising to leave.