Church Folk - Michele Andrea Bowen [108]
Tee said, "Saphronia, you want a biscuit?"
Saphronia nodded her head.
"Want some coffee?"
"Yes, please. Black with a teaspoon of sugar."
Precious looked at her. "You drink your coffee like white folks in the movies, all black without anything to smooth it out?"
Saphronia didn't respond. She took the coffee out of Tee's hand, leaned against the counter, and took a sip, then locked eyes with Precious. Each was trying to figure out what the other had to make Marcel interested in her.
"Y'all gone waste the whole day sizing each other up?" Tee asked, startling them out of their staring contest. Then she commanded Saphronia, "Put down that coffee and stand up straight for a minute."
Saphronia was not used to a woman like Tee ordering her around and she held her place at the counter, stubbornly refusing to so much as move a muscle.
Tee gave her a "you ain't nobody special" look and said, "Girl, ain't nobody asking to borrow your man for the night. I just want to get another good look at you, that's all. Now, will you please stand up straight and turn around for me?"
Saphronia did as she was told and Tee gave her a thorough once-over. Then she said, "Let me help you two out with this situation. Here's what I see: One, a man who out there in the streets running a ho' service and at a funeral home ain't worth nothing. Two, he a jive punk—loving you, Precious, but got no courage to marry you, and Saphronia, trying to marry you 'cause you make him look good. And three, the Negro like big behinds. 'Cause between the two of y'all, there enough butt in this room to supply every little white woman in Richmond with some decent hips. So I say that Rev. Marcel ain't worth all this trouble. Now you two can quit worrying about him and get down to some business."
Looking at Saphronia, she added, "Things have a way of working out for you when you least expect it. All you gotta do is trust in the Lord and then let Him take control over your life. Baby, that man done, done you a favor. Not marrying him is the smartest thing you ever did."
Saphronia tried to hold back her tears. She knew she couldn't marry Marcel, but until now had not made a final decision about it.
Tee headed out into the yard, and Precious got up and rinsed out her coffee cup. Tee was right. They weren't here to compete with each other but to get that low-down dawg Marcel.
"Sit down," she said to Saphronia, who answered with a short sniffle. Then sat down at the table, chin in hand, and said, "I'm all ears."
Precious took a deep breath. She hoped this plan sounded as good now as it had when she first shared it with Tee.
"Saphronia, Marcel likes to run everything. And from what I've seen, he really likes to run you. Probably done started telling you what to wear by now."
Saphronia looked at her indignantly.
"Look, Saphronia, don't get all uppity on me because I'm telling you the truth. Your clothes, as expensive as they are, look like clothes that some man wants you to wear because he don't want nobody looking at you. I'd bet some money that he has made you take stuff back when it looks too good and he know you really like it. And you all ain't even married yet."
Saphronia was surprised at just how much Precious knew about Marcel. They had just had an argument about a dress. It was a beautiful raw silk dress that was such a pale shade of pink, it looked like a blushed shade of white. She had wanted to wear it to that banquet for selecting the new bishops. She looked good in that dress, too, with its wide scooped neckline that showed just a hint of cleavage, capped sleeves, and a perfect fit that showed all the best features of her figure. But when she showed it to Marcel, he told her not to wear it, that it wasn't something his fiancée should wear to a Triennial Conference function.
"Saphronia, the way I figure this thing, you the only one who can really get Marcel. I'm the only one who know how to get him. But you the only one who can get him."
Saphronia looked a little confused.
"Think about it. You the most controlled