The Preachers Son (11 page)

I was lying on the bed on top of the covers with all my clothes on. The TV was on but I wasn’t really paying attention. I had other things on my mind because even I couldn’t believe the situation I was in. My cell phone rang, interrupting the thoughts swirling around in my head.

“Hello.”

“Hey, Dante. What’s crackin’?” The voice was quiet and a little tentative but it seemed familiar.

“Who is this?” I asked.

“It’s Tanisha.” A smile crept up on my face and I sat up on the bed. I’d pretty much given up on her, yet she’d been on my mind just five minutes earlier.

“Tanisha,” I repeated, glad she couldn’t see my smile through the phone. “How’ve you been?”

“Fine, I guess…”

“So, what’s poppin’? I didn’t think you was ever gonna call me again.” I was trying to keep my emotions in check.

“I don’t know I just…I just…” She was obviously having a hard time expressing herself. “Dante, I just need to talk to you about how things ended between us. I know you weren’t acting that night. I just got an attitude to hide my embarrassment, and—”

I cut her off. “Look, I can’t talk right now. I’m a little busy, but you don’t have to apologize. I understand. We’re cool.”

“Are we cool enough to start all over again? I really like you, Dante, and I’d like to make it up to you. Maybe I can take you to dinner. This time the treat’s on me. I really wanna start over.”

“I’d like that,” I told her, and I think we both relaxed. “Just let me know where and when.”

“I don’t know yet. How about later tonight?”

“Give me a call in about half an hour. I just have to break a date with someone.”

“I’ll call you in an hour.” She sounded as happy as I felt.

“I’ll be looking forward to it.” I closed my phone and looked up. I was surprised to see Anita standing in the threshold of the bathroom. We were at a local motel we had visited many times before she got married. I had promised myself when she came back to New York that she was out of my system and I wasn’t going to mess with her, but here I was. After things fell apart with Tanisha, I had moped around for quite a while, and I think Anita sensed I was vulnerable. She caught me in my office at a weak moment and did everything she could to remind me of the skills she possessed. It didn’t take much for me to give in, and before long we were in the Jet Motel just like old times.

Anita was more than ready for action. She even had a bag in her trunk full of lingerie, wineglasses, and other supplies she thought she might need for our little reunion. I didn’t want to know how long she’d been carrying that bag around, but obviously she had been pretty confident from the start that eventually she would win me over. As cliché as it sounds, she had gone into the bathroom to slip into something a little more comfortable. That was when I lay on the bed slowly coming to my senses. She might have charmed me with promises of reliving the explosive sex we had shared in the past, but now I realized that couldn’t happen. Back then I had loved this woman deeply, and that was part of what had made our sex so great. Now she had broken my heart and married another man. Things could never be what they were, especially since I had these feelings for Tanisha.

Before my phone rang, my big head was struggling with my little one. My body wanted to stay and get some action, but my heart knew I would only regret it later. Tanisha’s phone call had made it much easier for me to come to a decision. Now I had to deal with telling Anita, who was in the bathroom doorway dressed in white stilettos and a sheer pink negligee, that I was leaving. From the look on her face, though, it was obvious she had heard my conversation and already knew what was up.

“Who was that?” she asked angrily as she walked out of the bathroom.

“A friend.” I tried to sound casual.

“Male or female?”

“I don’t think that’s any of your business.” I was now sitting on the edge of the bed searching for my shoes. Anita bent down and grabbed them before I could reach them. That’s when I realized I’d made a bigger mistake than I thought.

“You going somewhere?” she taunted as she waved the shoes at me.

“I can’t do this, Anita. I thought I could, but I can’t.”

“Why? Who was that on the phone? Don’t tell me it was that hootchie who showed up at the church. I thought you said you were done with her.”

“I was mistaken,” I said tersely. I tried to remain calm as I approached her. “Now, can I have my shoes?”

“You’re not getting anything until I get what I want.” She gave me a wicked grin. “Take off your clothes.” I could see fire in her eyes.

“Look, Anita, I’m sorry, but I can’t do this.”

“I don’t wanna hear it, Dante.” She pushed me backward. “I said take off your clothes!”

I was taken aback by her demand. I knew she was aggressive, but this was a side of Anita I was just learning about. “I’m not taking off my clothes. Now gimme my shoes.” I sat up, reaching for my shoes.

“You want your shoes, you ungrateful son of a bitch? Well, take them!” She threw one of my shoes at me and it hit me in the side of the head. I felt a knot developing instantly.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I yelled, grabbing my head.

“You! You’re what’s wrong with me. All I wanna do is make love to you, you bastard. Why the fuck do you have to make things so complicated?” She threw my other shoe even harder than the first, but this time I ducked. Unfortunately, the mirror behind me didn’t have that option and shattered into a thousand pieces.

“You’re fucking crazy, Anita!”

“Now look what you made me do! I should just kill you and be done with you!” she cried out as she walked over to the broken mirror and picked up a jagged piece of glass. She didn’t have to say that twice. That was my clue to get the hell outta there. I ran to the door, leaving my shoes and that crazy bitch behind.

“It’s amazing the things you take for granted living in this city,” I thought out loud as I surveyed the skyline. It had only been a few hours since I had left Anita in the motel. Luckily I had a pair of sneakers in the trunk of my car, so when Tanisha called, I was able to drive over and meet her. Now we were admiring the view from high above the city. “I’ve lived here all my life, and believe it or not, this is the first time I’ve ever been to the Empire State Building. It’s so beautiful up here. What made you decide to pick this place anyway?”

Tanisha stepped up and smiled, obviously pleased with herself. It was her idea that we meet on the observation deck of the Empire State Building before having dinner. I think she wanted to clear the air before we moved forward with our relationship.

“This is my special place. The first place I can ever remember being truly happy. The only place in the world that I feel safe. Whenever I think things won’t get better, I come here and somehow I find the strength to move on.” She sounded serious.

“Oh yeah, why is that?”

“When we first moved up here from Virginia, I was about eleven or twelve. My mom had just gotten out of rehab for the first time. She had promised me the whole time she was away that when she got out she was gonna come get me and we were gonna go to New York to find my dad. She kept her promise too. As soon as the courts would let her, she came and got me from foster care. The next day the two of us were on a Greyhound headed to New York.” Tanisha smiled at the memory.

“The first place we stopped when we got off the bus was the Empire State Building. When we got up here to the observation deck, she pointed to the horizon and said, ‘Tanisha, your past and your future are out there. You just have to find it.’” She let out a lighthearted laugh, glancing out at the horizon. “I’m still looking for both.”

“I don’t know much about your past, but maybe your future is standing in front of you.”

“Maybe.” She turned back to me. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure. You can ask me anything you want.”

“Are you serious about this getting to know me stuff?”

“Yeah. I am.”

“Why me?”

“What do you mean? I don’t understand.”

“Why me? I see the way women look at you. You probably have women chasing after you all the time. Why do you wanna be with me?”

“ ’Cause I like you. There’s something about you that’s special.”

“But why? You don’t know anything about me. I live in the projects. My mother’s a crackhead. I work in a bar. I barely got a GED. I bet you got a college degree. What makes me so special? Why do you like me?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t know. I just like you. It’s not something I can explain. It’s just something I feel. Something in here.” I pointed at my heart. “When I’m with you, I feel like I can do anything. I’ve never felt a connection with anyone like I have with you, Tanisha.”

“Does that include the Bingo lady?”

“Yes, that definitely includes Anita.” I took her hand and massaged it with my fingers. She smiled. “Now, why do you like me?”

“At first it was because you were cute. Then after we talked at the church and at the restaurant, I realized you were the first guy who ever talked to me about stuff other than what we was gonna do after we ate dinner. You wasn’t trying to impress me by how you was gonna fuck the shit out of me. You just kept it regular. Like we was friends. I like that. I never had a guy treat me like that.”

“If you noticed that, why’d you wanna go home that night?”

Her voice got low. “Embarrassed, I guess. A little hurt too.”

“Hurt? Why hurt?”

“It’s not every day that you offer to go down on a guy and he tells you he ain’t interested. It hurt a little. No, it hurt a lot. I thought I was doing you a favor. When you said no, it was like you was rejecting me. I don’t deal well with rejection.”

“Well, I’ll tell you a little secret. Deep down I wanted to. I can’t tell you how much I wanted to. But I also knew that I liked you, and if I had sex with you right away, I wouldn’t have respected you. My father taught me a long time ago that if you like someone, the most important thing is that you respect them.”

I reached out to touch her face then kissed her gently on the lips.

“Who are you, Dante? You go to church every Sunday, but you wear throwbacks and Tims. You kiss me like no dude I’ve ever met, yet you don’t wanna have sex. Who the hell are you? I’ve never met a guy who acts like you.”

“Maybe you just never met a guy who really likes you for you. And as for me going to church every Sunday, it’s not by choice. If my father wasn’t the pastor of the church, two of those four Sundays I’d be up in the bed getting some sleep.”

“Your father’s the pastor of that church on Merrick?”

“Yep, that’s my dad, Bishop T.K. Wilson.”

“Isn’t he running for borough president? I seen those posters all over town.”

“That’s him. Why? Don’t tell me you were planning to vote for someone else.” He chuckled.

“No, to be honest, I’m not even registered to vote.”

“Well, don’t tell my father that when you meet him.”

“You want me to meet your father?”

“Not right away, but someday. Him and my mother.”

“Dante, I don’t know. I don’t do parents very well.” She sounded worried.

I laughed. “Don’t worry. My mother doesn’t do girlfriends very well either.”

“Girlfriend? I’m confused. So now I’m your girlfriend?” Uh-oh, she sounded nervous about that idea. Maybe I’d jumped the gun.

“Only if you wanna be,” I replied cautiously.

“Yeah, I do.” She smiled, although she sounded choked up. “I’ve just never been anyone’s girlfriend before. As Wendy Williams calls it, I’ve always just been the
jump off
.”

“Well, Miss Tanisha, things are about to change.” I took her hand. “Now, come on. I’m hungry. Let’s go get something to eat.”

“What’s up, girl?” RaShanda smiled as she slid into the booth across from me. “Sorry I’m late.”

“It’s aw’ight. I just got here myself.” We leaned over the table and kissed cheeks.

“Good. Now, did you order yet? ’Cause I want me some cheesecake.” She picked up a menu before flagging down a waitress. I’d asked RaShanda to meet me at Junior’s famous cheesecake restaurant in Brooklyn because I wanted to talk to her about some of my concerns regarding Terrance.

It had been a while since I’d stopped by her place seeking advice, and I desperately needed it again. I’d been with Terrance almost six and a half months now and I was sick and tired of sneaking around. I wanted to tell my parents about our relationship, especially my mother. It might earn me some points if she knew I was with a man from the church, and Lord knows I could use help improving my mother’s opinion of me.

I was also worried because Terrance was starting to do a lot of work-related travel. Maybe it was paranoia, but every time he left for a conference or a seminar, I started worrying he might be with someone else.

Once she’d ordered her cheesecake and some coffee, RaShanda turned to me. “What’s this big problem that you didn’t wanna talk about on the phone? You’re not pregnant, are you?”

“Lawd, no! I’m not pregnant.” RaShanda’s words made my heart skip a beat. “My mother would kill me.”

“I know that’s right. She’s got a bigger stick up her ass than my momma.”

I gave her an ice-cold stare. I loved RaShanda but I hated the way she talked about my mother. “I done told you about talkin’ ’bout my momma, RaShanda. She may be a bitch, but she’s my bitch, okay? So don’t talk about her.”

“Damn. Aw’ight, calm down. I don’t know why you always defending her. That lady treats you like shit.”

“Well, that’s my problem. She’s my mom, and despite her shortcomings, I still got love for her.”

“Aw’ight. Look, let’s change the subject. Why’d you wanna meet down here anyway?”

I took a long, slow breath and closed my eyes momentarily. When I opened them, I told her, “I think I’m losing my man.” I never called Terrance by name when we talked. I always called him “my man.” The less RaShanda knew, the better. She was my girl and all, but she had a tendency to talk about other people’s business when she was drinking. It was fine if she talked about me, but I did not want it to get out that I was dating Terrance until I—or rather he—was ready.

“Oh, Donna, I’m sorry,” she said with sympathy as she reached across the table to caress my hand. “What happened? You seemed so happy when we talked last.” She hesitated. “Don’t tell me he still wants to do you in your butt.”

“Nah, that’s not it…” I had to pause and think about it for a second. “Well, at least I don’t think that’s it. He hasn’t brought it up.” Then again, maybe that was part of the problem.

“Then you think he’s cheating?”

“I’m not sure. All I know is that things are different. He’s different. I feel like I’m losing him, RaShanda, and I’m scared.” RaShanda sat back in her chair with a curious look on her face.

“How’s the sex been?”

“Good. That’s never been a problem. He still can’t keep his hands off me. We probably do it three or four times a week. And as far as I’m concerned, I enjoy it more and more each time we make love. It’s after the sex that we have a problem. After we make love, he always seems a little distant. He turns away from me as soon as he comes, and this is when I want to cuddle. I put my arms around him anyhow, but he has his back to me. He never used to do that.”

“He’s getting used to the pussy. You gotta change shit up.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’ll explain it to you in a bit. I’ve got a few tricks that’ll help, but eventually you might have to give him what he really wants. Make him think you care about his needs.”

“Uh-uh.” I shook my head. “I’m not giving him anal sex until he tells me he loves me.”

“The question is, do you think he’s ever gonna tell you that?” She folded her arms, waiting for my response.

“I don’t know. He doesn’t even want me to tell anybody about our relationship. Why should he tell me he loves me?” I was starting to feel depressed. That was the first time I admitted that to anyone including myself.

“What?” She jerked her head back. “Why would he wanna keep hiding things?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Can’t be that complicated. I’m listening.”

“RaShanda, if you tell anybody, I’ll—” She cut me off with a glare.

“Who the hell am I gonna tell? You know how I get down. We friends to the end. Now, what’s the problem? Is he married?” She leaned in like she was enjoying a soap opera.

“No! He’s not married.” I was insulted.

RaShanda lifted an eyebrow inquisitively. “Then who is he?”

She was relentless. I hesitated then looked up at her. “Oh, all right. Do you remember Terrance from church?”

“Terrance, Terrance,” she repeated then smiled. “Oh, Terrance? Fine-ass Terrance with the green eyes?” She stared at me in disbelief as I nodded. “You lyin’! You ain’t messing with him.”

“Yes, I am.” I pulled out a picture of him I had taken at the beach in the Hamptons. She looked down at the picture.

“Oh, my God, you bagged fine-ass Terrance? You know I must have really underestimated that virgin shit, ’cause I offered him some when he first came to the church and he blew me off. I thought he was gay.”

That’s comforting
, I thought. All I would have needed was to find out RaShanda had slept with my man. God, I probably would have killed myself.

“Damn, girl. I’m not gonna lie. I’m jealous. He is one fine man.”

“Thanks, but I think I’m gonna need your help to keep him.”

“But why? You just told me y’all are still having sex three or four times a week. What in the world makes you think you’re having a problem?”

“He always seems to be going away, and I don’t know, sometimes I just worry that he’s not really going to a convention.”

“Girl, you just being paranoid. Isn’t it your father who sends him on these trips?”

“Yeah.”

“Aw’ight then. Why don’t you just ask to go with him next time? I bet he says yes.”

“I did.” I sighed. “He’s always promising he’ll take me to the next one, but when the time comes, he starts talking about what would my parents say if they found out.”

“Come on now. You know he’s right about that one. What man would be in any kind of hurry to announce to the bishop and first lady that he wants to get with their daughter? Talk about pressure.” She dug into her cheesecake.

I didn’t say anything. I knew she made a good point, even though it was unfair. If I really thought about it, Terrance wasn’t the first man to be intimidated by my family. Most of the boys who wanted to date me in high school were afraid to do anything more than think about it because they didn’t have the guts to ask my father’s permission. Back then it had bothered me, but with Terrance, I think it had gone from being annoying to making me paranoid about how he really felt about me.

“Look.” RaShanda interrupted my thoughts. “If you really think you got something to worry about and you want him to confess his love, I got something for you.”

“What?” I asked. I listened intently as my friend proceeded to give me some advice based on her years of experience in the art of pleasing men.