Church Folk - Michele Andrea Bowen [55]
But Eddie had just waited patiently for him to stop coughing and then said, "You know doggone well you want to marry this woman. Just scared to death, that's all. Think of it this way. If Essie Lane were Mrs. Essie Simmons, you could have whisked her off to your house and nobody could say a thing about it."
No wonder he was tired this morning, Theophilus thought. He didn't feel much like preaching. But his congregation, especially the older, tithing members, expected to hear their pastor preach on the church's anniversary. Sister Clayton just kept going on and on, seemingly oblivious to the fact that the entire congregation was growing restless and bored. He bent down, hoping no one could see him shaking his head in disgust. When he sat back up, Essie was looking at him with a big grin on her face, barely able to contain her laughter over this mess. He got control of the answering smile tugging at the corner of his own mouth and shot her a stern look, as if to say, "Girl, you know you ought to be a-shamed of your-self for laughing in church."
Essie tilted her head to the side and wrinkled her nose, as if to reply, "I know but I ain't."
This morning Essie was wearing a baby blue silk sleeveless top with a boatneck front and a V-shaped back, anchored by a matching blue silk bow above a row of rhinestone buttons that stopped where the top grazed the hip of the straight, tailored skirt. She was wearing navy blue pumps with a matching purse, and a wide-brimmed, baby blue silk hat that was pinned on top of a perfectly styled French roll. Her upswept hair was highlighted by silver earrings, and she wore a silver charm bracelet, which made a delightful tinkling sound every time she moved her arm.
In that hat and elegant baby blue suit, Theophilus thought that Essie seemed every bit the First Lady. He thought to himself, "Now, why did she have to walk her little self up in here, looking like my wife."
Essie's presence wasn't lost on Glodean, who was annoyed to see "that little heifer" sitting up in her church on anniversary Sunday, acting as if she belonged there. It had been plain to Glodean at the Annual Conference that she still had the power to work Theophilus's nerves. But today his eyes never strayed from Miss Essie Lee Lane, and he barely seemed to notice Glodean. If there was one thing Glodean Benson couldn't put up with, it was being ignored.
Finally Sister Clayton ran out of steam, and Theophilus gratefully reclaimed the podium. He would trim his sermon a little, he decided, to make up for the time Sister Clayton had wasted and to avoid holding up the church's anniversary dinner at Mabel's Kitchen. And, he had to admit, because then he could be with Essie that much sooner.
Essie stood in the doorway of Mabel's Kitchen waiting for Theophilus. She didn't feel right taking her seat at the head table without him because it was the place usually reserved for the first lady of the church. She considered going to sit with D.S. and Coral Thomas, who had waved when she entered the dining room, but rather than disturb them decided to wait outside on the steps. She was just turning to leave when Theophilus came up behind her and grabbed her around the waist, oblivious to the many pairs of eyes that suddenly locked on to the pastor hugging his woman. Much as Essie loved the feel of Theophilus's hands on her waist, she was embarrassed by this display of affection in front of his congregation. Easing his arms from around her waist, she moved to stand at his side.
"Aaawww, baby, my sermon couldn't have been that bad," he said laughing. "You're acting like—" Theophilus stopped talking when