Church Folk - Michele Andrea Bowen [70]
Half dozing, Theophilus wrapped his arms and legs around Essie and kissed the tip of her ear, murmuring, "Baby."
"Ummm hmmm," she purred and snuggled closer to him.
"Baby, I was just thinking about your hair and wondering why you don't wear it like that all the time."
"Sugar, you know I can't walk around with a nappy head."
"Why not?"
"Folks at church would have a fit if they saw my hair like this."
"So, let them have a fit. When have you ever worried about what they thought anyway?"
"Well," she sighed. "I've been rocking a few boats at Greater Hope, even today." She told him about Mother Harold's visit, concluding by saying, "I don't need to make matters worse with my hair."
"Aw, Essie, rock the doggone boat. I like your hair and that is all that should matter to you. Don't tell me you're afraid to wear it like this."
"Now, when I was ever afraid?" Essie asked, with a chuckle. "Are you daring me?"
"You could call it that," Theophilus said, grinning.
Essie knew that when she stepped up in Greater Hope with a nappy head, all hell would break loose. As she thought whose tongues would be wagging, she started liking the idea of creating a big fuss at church. It would be fun to shake up a few of that old guard.
"I'll take that dare. Deal."
As Theophilus kissed Essie on the forehead to seal the deal, the doorbell rang. He grabbed his watch off the coffee table. It was only 8:30, not too late for a parishioner to come calling with some request. He sighed and started to get up but Essie pushed him back down. "Don't you move. You have had enough for one day. We're not dealing with anybody right now."
"But, baby, what if it's an emergency?"
"This ain't no emergency. If it were, they would have called first, just to make sure you would be ready for them when they got here. No, I'm sure this is about some mess. Never fails—the mess starters always show up in the early morning or late in the evening."
Theophilus leaned back against the couch and started to relax. Essie was right.
"Plus, you're tired, sugar. Walked in this house looking peaked and worn down to the bone."
But whoever it was kept ringing the bell right out of the socket. With a sigh of annoyance, Essie got up and went to put on a robe.
The woman at the door was unfamiliar and looked surprised when Essie answered the door, as if she weren't standing right in her own home. Without even greeting her, the woman walked into the foyer asking, "Where's the Pastor?"
Essie now remembered that the woman worked for Willie Clayton, who had not yet made good on her threat to withdraw from Greater Hope. For the moment, she was thinking she was punishing Theophilus merely by withholding her offerings.
The woman continued looking past Essie like she didn't see her and said, "Pastor available?"
Amazed at her boldness, Essie said, "No, he's not available right now."
"But I saw his car in the driveway, so he must be here."
"Well, he may be here but he ain't available."
The woman now studied Essie more closely and it dawned on her that the First Lady was wearing a robe, probably without a stitch of clothing on underneath it. Essie watched the comprehension build on her face and hoped that her attire was enough to make the woman leave. Unfortunately, it wasn't.
"Sister Clayton sent me over here to give these papers to the Pastor," she said. "Sister Clayton said these papers real important and—"
"Give me the papers," Essie said, holding out her hand. What could be so important that it had to be delivered at 8:30 at night? Whatever was in the papers was sure to make Theophilus mad. It was just like Willie Clayton to give her dirty work to someone else—probably some woman who was stuck on the Pastor and would jump at the chance to see him privately, at home.
The woman just stood there, ignoring her hand.
"I said I will take the papers and give them to the Pastor."
Sure enough, the woman looked disappointed. "Well, Sister Clayton told me to put these papers right in the Pastor's hands, and his hands, only. So you'll just have to call him