The First Lady Read online

  “Hey, Ma, whatchu need? Whatchu need?” Reggie shouted, running up on me like I was carrying a million dollars.

  “Look, Reggie. I’m not in the best of moods, and I ain’t got no money, so leave me the fuck alone,” I snapped. “If I have to tell you one more time that I don’t use that shit no more, then I—” My whole body tensed up. I just wanted to hit someone.

  “Relax, Ma,” Reggie said, putting his hands up and slightly backing away from me. “I was just running a special today is all. I got a two for one. I know you used to like a deal.”

  I didn’t have to say a word. I’m sure Reggie could tell by the look in my eyes and my clenched fists that he had one second to get away from me. He took two steps back but still continued his sales routine. “I understand the no-money thing. And, seeing as how you used to be my best customer,” Reggie said with a villainous smile, “I’d be willing to extend you some credit.”

  “I don’t do drugs no more.” I said it with as much strength as I could muster, to convince myself as much as him that drugs were not what I needed. I started to walk away, but he followed me step for step.

  “You sure, Ma? I got this new shit they call Monster. My customers are saying it’s the best shit they ever had. Each hit’s like your first.” Reggie stepped in front of me. “You remember your first hit, don’t you, Ma?”

  I did remember my first hit. It was the one thing in my life I wished I could forget, because it haunted me like the plague. That first hit was the one that turned my entire life upside down and landed me where I was now, a recovering addict who had lost the love of her life because of drugs, still struggling daily just to stay away from the poison. But as bad as things turned out because of that first smoke, a part of me recalled it fondly. It’s hard to even describe how that first time makes you feel. Most addicts will tell you they spend the rest of their lives trying to relive that feeling, and I was no different. I was clean now, but something inside of me would always remember that first hit with longing. In a moment of weakness, it would be so easy to pick up another pipe to try again for that “first high” feeling. And the disappointment I’d suffered tonight was making me feel weak.

  I started to roll my neck and swing my arms, motions that had become almost reflexes whenever I thought about getting high. The more Reggie talked, the weaker I became. I could almost feel the smoke filling my mouth and lungs. The only thing that was missing was the rush. I knew I had to get out of there, ‘cause I was starting to jones.

  “Excuse me, Reggie.” I stepped around him and started to walk faster, but he must have known he’d gotten into my head because he kept pace with me once again. “Reggie, why are you following me? I told you I ain’t got no money, and you know there ain’t no such thing as credit.”

  “Yeah, I know, but you gotta try this shit. Look, Ma, you know you want this, and I want you to have it. So, I’ll tell you what. You ain’t even gotta use it now. I’ll give you two for free.” He stuck out his hand as we walked. “Here.”

  I looked down at the drugs in his hand and slowed my steps. I could feel the sweat forming on my brow as my conscience kicked into overdrive. I wanted to scream and run from the danger I knew I was in, yet part of me wanted to grab the drugs and take them with me. It was so much work resisting the temptation of crack every day, especially with people like Reggie constantly trying to get me started again.

  I stared at Reggie for a long moment, wishing he would just disappear, before I finally sighed and said, “Okay, Reggie, you want me to take them from you? I’ll take them, but I’m telling you now, I’m gonna take them upstairs and flush them down the toilet, so don’t get your hopes up. I ain’t gonna be a return customer this time.” I took his packages and stuffed them into my purse, meaning every word I’d said. I was going to get rid of the drugs as soon as I got inside. Maybe then, the next time he saw me and I was still sober, this pain-in-the-ass dealer would know I meant what I said, and he’d stop trying to tempt me every time I stepped outside my damn door.

  “Just remember, Ma, next time you pay!” he yelled, walking in the opposite direction. “Next time, you pay!”

  As I entered my building, I felt like the drugs were burning a hole in my purse, sending out waves of desire to my brain. My hands shook as I put the key into my mailbox in the lobby. I could feel my resolve weakening, and now I wasn’t so certain I’d be able to flush the crack down the toilet when I got upstairs. I cursed myself for being stupid enough to even put my hands on the drugs I now had in my possession. But my strength to resist returned to me when I pulled out my mail and saw a reminder of my biggest reason to stay clean and sober. There was an envelope from my baby Aubrey’s school, containing his report card.

  He didn’t have straight A’s, but there were three A’s, and no C’s, D’s, or F’s, which meant he made the honor roll. While Aubrey had always been a good student, this was the first time I could say that I had played some part in his success. Before, he managed to get good grades even though his momma was a crackhead. Now he was getting even more A’s because his momma was a recovered crack addict, and I was able to help him with his schoolwork every night.

  I was so proud of him—and of myself—that I felt like going to get him from his friend Jimmy’s house so we could take the bus over to Green Acres Mall. We could go to the twenty-four-hour Wal-Mart and buy him that PlayStation 3 he wanted. But as I headed up to my apartment, I decided against it, because if I bought it now, what would he have to look forward to on his birthday next week? But I was going to get rid of these drugs for him and make him some of the chocolate chip cookies he liked.

  I entered the apartment and put down the mail. Still clutching my purse, I headed to the bathroom to destroy the temptation I carried. But before I made it out of the living room, the phone rang. When I saw Tanisha’s number on the caller ID, I stopped to answer it, eager to tell her about Aubrey’s great report card.

  “So, how did it go, Momma? Should I start planning a wedding?” Tanisha asked before I even had a chance to finish the word hello. Her enthusiasm just squashed any joy I was feeling. My mind had gotten past the date that never happened with T.K., but it was still in the forefront of Tanisha’s thoughts. Her question brought me right back to where I started fifteen minutes ago, when I saw that woman in Thomas Kelly’s car. I squeezed the purse in my hands, thinking about what lay inside.

  “Momma, you still there?”

  “Yeah, I’m here. Your brother got a real good report card. He made honor roll,” I said, wishing I could have sounded as optimistic as I had just a few minutes ago.

  “Oh, that’s great, Momma, but we can talk about that later. How’d everything go on your date with the bishop?”

  I wasn’t really sure what to tell her. She’d been so excited about me and her father going out. The last thing she would want to hear was that my insecurity had gotten the best of me and that I’d left before the date even happened. But like I always said, if I owed her anything, I owed her the truth.

  “I didn’t go. I stood him up,” I told her.

  “What do you mean you stood him up? Momma, why would you stand the bishop up?”

  “It’s a long story, Tanisha. Let’s just say we’re not right for each other.”

  Sister Lisa Mae is a little more his style, I thought, feeling so stupid now. I never should have let myself be fooled by some damn letter supposedly written by a woman who’s been dead for half a year.

  “That’s bull, Momma, and you know it. You told me you still love him.” Tanisha was not willing to let this go easily.

  “Love ain’t got nothing to do with this, little girl. Your—”

  She cut me off by raising her voice. “Love has everything to do with it, Momma. Jesus! How could you mess this up?”

  Ignoring that she was speaking to me like I was the child, I tried to remain calm as I explained, “Things aren’t like they used to be when me and your father were kids, Tanisha. Your father’s a very complicated man with a very
complicated job. The last thing he needs is my baggage.”

  “Momma, I don’t understand. What baggage? You’re not smoking again, are you?”

  I looked down at my purse and felt my insides tighten. If only Tanisha knew how close I had come to using again. “No, I’m not smoking,” I snapped, no longer calm. I knew I needed to get that shit down the toilet as quickly as possible. “And it’s fucked up that you thought that.”

  “I’m sorry, Momma. I’m just having a hard time understanding why you stood up the bishop.”

  “Little girl, did you ever think that if me and your father got married I’d have to be the first lady of First Jamaica Ministries? Do you know how much responsibility that is? Your father’s a very important man, Tanisha, and I do love him, but the only thing I could do is hold him back. Besides, he was just being polite when he told me he’d go out with me.”

  “No, he wasn’t. When Dante talked to him, he said he was really looking forward to seeing you. And as far as that first lady stuff, the bishop doesn’t care about that.”

  “I thought I told you not to tell your husband about this,” I said, hoping to steer the conversation in a different direction.

  “I didn’t, but the bishop and Dante were talking and he brought it up. From what Dante said, he was very excited. And so was my husband.”

  “Oh really?” I was surprised to hear this, because Tanisha had said before that she didn’t think Dante was ready for his father to move on. But even if I had Dante’s blessing, it still didn’t change a damn thing. Sister Lisa Mae was still the one in the front seat of his Cadillac tonight, not me. And hell, she probably belonged there a lot more than I did.

  “You should call him and apologize, Momma. Maybe you two could go out tomorrow.”

  “I don’t think so, Tanisha. Thomas Kelly and I are in the past. He needs a sophisticated woman, somebody who knows the politics of both the church and New York City. I’m sorry, but I’m not that woman.”

  Her tone softened as she said, “Momma, why are you always putting yourself down? You can be anything you want to be.”

  “A woman’s gotta know her limitations, Tanisha. I know mine. I’m not cut out to be a preacher’s wife.”

  “That’s not true. I used to be a stripper, but now I’m married to a lawyer and going to school to be a nurse. If you really wanna be with Daddy, then you can do it. Nobody loves him like you do, Momma.” Her optimism was starting to piss me off. Why couldn’t she just let this go?

  “I keep tellin’ you that sometimes love isn’t enough. Now, I’m not cut out to be no first lady. Them women in that church ain’t making a fool outta me, and neither are you.” I made no attempt to hide the anger in my voice, thinking that would put her in her place. But I was wrong. She came right back at me with her own anger and judgment.

  “Always full of excuses, aren’t you, Momma? You’re never gonna get rid of that ghetto mentality, are you?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means I’m really disappointed in you, ‘cause you’re never gonna leave Forty Projects,” Tanisha said just before hanging up.

  “Fuck you, Tanisha!” I yelled into the receiver, then slammed it down. My purse fell out of my hands and tumbled to the floor. I was hot! That girl knew how to push my buttons like nobody else. As if it wasn’t bad enough that those damn churchwomen made me feel less than little Miss Lisa Mae, now my own damn daughter felt she had the right to judge me.

  I reached down to pick up my purse and the contents that had spilled onto the floor. I stared at the small plastic bags that I was supposed to have already flushed down the toilet. In my anger, it took only a few seconds for me to say, “Fuck it,” pick them up, and head for the kitchen.

  I quickly found aluminum foil to make a stem, and in no time I was sitting on my couch, staring at a picture of Tanisha, about to get high. “You know what, Tanisha?” I said to the picture just as I was about to inhale. “This is all your fault.”

  7

  BISHOP

  I was talking to James in the hallway of the church’s administrative wing when Monique came walking down the corridor. She was wearing a tight red dress that left very little to the imagination. When James spotted her, his entire body tightened up, and his facial expression was one of disgust. He quickly pointed to my office as if to say, “If we hurry, we can hide in there.” But Monique had seen us, and I was glad because she’d been on my mind a lot the past few days. We’d had several meetings about her bookstore proposal since our dinner two weeks ago. They were all very professional in the church conference room, with my secretary and/or James present at all times. But even in that setting, I couldn’t stop myself from reliving that moment at her front door when she tried to kiss me. There was no denying that I was curious about what might have happened had I let that moment continue.

  “Please, Bishop, this is not the time or the place to have Monique all up in your face.” James’s voice was low but stern. “Now, enough is enough. The women’s Bible study class is about to get out, and that girl is dressed like a slut. I’m sorry, but we have to protect your reputation.” I shot him an angry look, and he shook his head. “All right, I’ll be quiet, but it’s your funeral.”

  He put on a fake smile as Monique walked up and gave each of us a hug. “Hey, Trustee. Hey, Bishop.”

  When she released me, it took everything I had to concentrate on her face and not stare at the cleavage that was popping out of her dress. James, on the other hand, was staring at her chest so hard, it looked like his eyes were about to fall out of his head. For someone who just seconds ago was condemning her for the way she was dressed, he sure seemed to appreciate it now. I was just waiting for him to ask her something outlandish like, “Are those things real?” Thank the Lord, he remained quiet.

  “So, to what do we owe the pleasure, Sister Monique?” I asked.

  “We just finished up Bible study, and I wanted to know if you had some free time this week to talk some more about the bookstore, maybe over dinner?”

  As if on cue, James doubled over and began coughing violently. This wasn’t anything new for him, though. He’d used this ploy before when he didn’t want me to answer someone, and I absolutely hated it.

  Sister Monique fell for his little act and asked with genuine concern, “Oh, my goodness, Trustee. Are you all right?”

  “He’s all right. Aren’t you, Trustee Black?” I placed my arm around his back, and as Monique stared at his face, I mashed right down on his foot with my size twelve-and-a-half shoe.

  “Aaarrghh! Doggone it, Bishop, that’s my toe!” James immediately stopped coughing as he jumped up in the air, then started hobbling around.

  “Ah, I’m sorry, Trustee. My feet are so big, sometimes I don’t know where they’re gonna land. I sure am glad your cough is okay, though. Look, why don’t you grab a seat in my office? You might wanna elevate that foot.” James cut his eye at me as he limped into my office. When he was out of sight, I turned back toward Monique.

  “Is he gonna be all right?” She stepped close enough that I could smell her perfume, and I inhaled deeply.

  “Oh, he’s going to be just fine. I step on his toes all the time. So, where were we?” I gave her a reassuring smile.

  “I was asking if you wanted to get together tonight so we could talk more about … the bookstore, of course.”

  “I’ve got something planned tonight, but how about Saturday evening? I don’t think I have anything scheduled.” Even I couldn’t believe what I’d just done. She was asking me to discuss church business, and I was suggesting that we do it on a Saturday night. I could have suggested any afternoon this week, but I chose a weekend night, which most unmarried people reserve for dates. This was the first time I had come remotely close to asking a woman out since my wife’s death, and it took me by surprise. I guess that while my heart was still sorting out my feelings, my body had seen Monique in that red dress and decided it was ready to move on.

  If I
had any doubts about how my invitation would be received, Monique reassured me quickly that she was feeling the same way I was.

  “That sounds good. Do you want to meet at my place again? I’ll fix dinner.”

  I wanted to say yes, but after the way she kissed me at her place, I decided not to tempt fate. My body was ready, but my heart was still in turmoil. “How about we go out to dinner this time? My treat. We can go over the details of your plan in a little more depth.”

  A smirk crept across her face that made me think she had a little bit of the devil in her. “Are you sure you wanna take me out to dinner, Bishop? Folks might get the wrong idea.”

  “I’m not much for what people think, Sister Monique. Now that my wife has passed away, I don’t have to answer to anyone but God.”

  Her smile widened. “Well, amen to that. I’ll see you on Saturday. Let’s say about seven?”

  “Seven it is.”

  She leaned in like she was about to give me a kiss good-bye. This time I made sure her kiss landed on my cheek. Although I meant what I said about not having to answer to anyone, I instinctively glanced over her shoulder to see if anyone had witnessed the kiss. Then my eyes lowered and followed Monique’s hips as they swayed back and forth down the hall. I wasn’t sure if she knew I was watching and was doing it for my benefit, but she was putting on quite a show.

  “Maaaaaan, now I know why you’re so infatuated with that girl. Not only does baby got back, but she got one heck of walk too.” I turned to see James standing in the doorway of my office, grinning.