The Perfect Christian: Still Divas Series Book Two (Urban Books) Page 3

  Yes, all was well, and Mother Doreen was just minutes away from becoming Mrs. Wallace Frey. The twinkle in her eyes and the permanent smile on her face was even further confirmation that all was well.

  The song in which the flower girl, Sakaya, who was the daughter of the leader of the New Day’s Tape and Sound Booth Ministry, walked down the aisle came to an end. There was a moment of silence. As Mother Doreen stared at the closed double doors leading inside the sanctuary, she knew the time was now at hand. In two seconds, the audience would be asked to stand in order to receive the bride. Two seconds after that, “Here Comes the Bride” would begin to play. Two seconds after that, the doors would open, and two seconds after that, Mother Doreen would begin her trek to the man God had for her.

  Two, four, six, eight—Mother Doreen took her first step into the sanctuary. Unique was going to kill her, because, by the third step, tears were streaming down her face, smearing her makeup. She had no idea she would be so overcome with emotion. She also had no idea it would look and feel as if she was living out a fairy tale. After all, she was almost seventy years old. Most would assume her life was pretty much over, yet the God she served said that was not so. The God she served said there was no age limit on what He could do in a saint’s life. Look at Sarah from the Bible; she laughed when God said He’d give her new life in the form of Isaac in her womb. She laughed because she was so up in age she thought it was impossible. Unlike Sarah, though, Mother Doreen hadn’t laughed. She cried.

  There were many nights, unbeknownst to anyone around her, in which Mother Doreen had longed for the companionship of a man. True companionship, not like it had been with her deceased former husband, Willie, God rest his soul. Staying with Willie had been more so out of debt, that how Mother Doreen saw it, rather than out of love. She’d felt indebted to him.

  Oh, she’d loved old Willie; yes, indeed, with all her heart she loved every ounce of that man. But she hadn’t been in love with him. Not at the end. Not after so many disappointing and devastating things had taken place in their marriage. But she stayed faithful and loyal, never leaving or forsaking Willie in all of his shortcomings, such as the gambling, cheating, drinking, lying, and so on. But when all was said and done, Willie never left nor had he forsaken Mother Doreen. Sure, her shortcomings in the marriage could never measure up in number to all of Willie’s. Mother Doreen had been what most would have considered to be the perfect wife. But most didn’t know about that one huge mistake Mother Doreen had made that would change her and Willie’s marriage—her and Willie’s lives—forever.

  But that was the past. That one mistake had gotten Mother Doreen caught up in a nightmare. Today, she was living out a dream come true. Today, God was doing for her what He’d done for Sarah. He was giving her a new life; a new life to share with Wallace. Who says almost being seventy years old means it has to be the end? Mother Doreen was living proof that seventy could be the beginning. Age had nothing to do with what God could and would do for a person. And Mother Doreen sure was glad about what God was doing for her.

  She took the tissue Unique had forced her to carry cupped in her hand around the stem of the bouquet and wiped her eyes. Correction, she’d dabbed her eyes just as Unique had showed her how to do. Small dabs would prevent her makeup from smearing. Unique, who stood on the end of a pew smiling, winked at Mother Doreen, giving her a sign that she’d correctly managed to wipe away her tears without wiping away and messing up her makeup.

  While all eyes were on the bride and the double doors were still open, Unique snuck out of the sanctuary to go prepare for the reception. Needless to say, Tamarra had left the church after her fight with Paige, leaving the serving duties for Unique and the other workers.

  By the time Mother Doreen made it down to the altar, her cheeks and jaws were aching from smiling so hard and so much. She’d managed to dab away all her tears, but when she saw Wallace crying a river, and being the debonair man that he was trying to fight them back, she started crying all over again. The two were a bawling mess down there, but it was beautiful—beautiful indeed.

  They both managed to keep it together long enough for Pastor Margie to remind them and the entire sanctuary why they were all gathered there today. Mother Doreen and Wallace just stood there, facing each other, holding hands, crying tears of joy together. They were so engrossed in the spiritual connection that tied them that when Pastor Margie asked if there was anyone in attendance that had just cause why the two should not be joined in holy matrimony, they almost didn’t hear the man in the back of the church stand up and say, “I do. I have a very good reason why no man in his right mind should marry that woman.”

  Chapter Five

  Who was that man? Mother Doreen pondered. Now that Mother Doreen thought about it, she recalled that man’s face. The man who’d just stood up, interrupting her wedding ceremony with claims that he had just cause why Mother Doreen and Wallace shouldn’t be married—Mother Doreen recognized him. She didn’t recognize him from a previous encounter or from the grocery store or anything like that. She recognized his face from only minutes ago. Just minutes ago was the first time Mother Doreen had ever laid eyes on the man; of that she was sure.

  Out of all the hundred fifty or so guests in attendance, that man’s face had stood out to Mother Doreen. Ironically enough, the man stood out because Mother Doreen hadn’t recognized him at all. It was that and the fact that all the other hundred forty-nine guests were smiling, but this man wasn’t. Why hadn’t he been smiling? Mother Doreen had briefly wondered as she’d been making her way down the aisle. Was it because Mother Doreen had ruined her makeup with tears and now folks weren’t going to be able to get a decent picture of her coming down the aisle? Yes, that could have been it. After all, like many of the others, the man had had his cell phone out snapping pictures. Or had it been a digital camera? Or even a disposable one? At the moment, Mother Doreen couldn’t recall. And why was she worried about something so trivial anyway? What she needed to be concerned with was why had this man—this man who Mother Doreen knew to be a complete stranger—want to interrupt her wedding.

  Perhaps it was just all a joke. Perhaps the man was some crazy distant cousin of Wallace’s playing some kind of untimely joke. They’d probably played jokes on each other all the time as kids and this was the ultimate payback. It was possible. Wallace had cousins, lots of them; from all over. Mother Doreen’s mind was scrambling for answers. But it was Pastor Margie who had the good sense to quickly just come right out and ask the man just what everyone in the sanctuary wanted to know.

  “Who are you?” Pastor Margie asked. She tried not to sound so badgering, but she was somewhat upset. Who would have the audacity to try to ruin one of the best days of one of her best member’s life? And on top of that, Pastor Margie considered Mother Doreen a good friend. Why, the two had even been temporary roommates once upon a time. Why was this man doing this to her friend? Pastor Margie would ask that question too. “And why are you speaking out?”

  One could hear a church mouse go tinkle on a cotton ball it was so quiet. Everyone waited in anticipation for the man to respond.

  “Right now, who I am isn’t as important as why I’m speaking out.” The man, looking to be in his forties, sounded and looked like a very studious man. He stood about five feet ten. His light skin complexion was smooth as he glared over the rim of his dark framed eyeglasses. He had a tight haircut and was dressed in what looked to be a very snazzy suit. When he stepped out from the pew to the middle of the aisle, his shiny dress shoes twinkled like a star in a midnight sky. When he spoke those few little words, he annunciated every single sound of every single letter to perfection. He commanded attention, and not just because he’d spoken out during the middle of a wedding ceremony, but because he just had this certain aura about him.

  “Then why are you speaking out?” Pastor Margie asked again.

  “You asked if there was anyone in attendance that had just cause why the two should not be joined in holy
matrimony. Well, I have just cause; and that, Pastor, is my reason for speaking out.”

  Pastor Margie swallowed, almost afraid to ask her next question, but knew she had to in order to move forward with the wedding nuptials. “And what might that cause be?”

  “She knows.” He pointed and stared accusingly at Mother Doreen, who stood shocked and confused. “Please don’t add insult to injury by standing up there like the perfect little bride acting as if you have no idea whatsoever why this man shouldn’t marry you.” He looked at Wallace. “If I were you, I’d get out of here right now, run, and never look back.” His attention turned back to Mother Doreen, but he was still speaking to Wallace. “She’ll ruin your life and go on with her own as if she didn’t have a care in the world.”

  His evil stare caused Mother Doreen to look away. She felt as though she were staring evil right in the face. It didn’t matter how dressed up, smart, and handsome this man looked, he meant harm . . . and she appeared to be his target. But why? She’d never met this man before in her life. Therefore, there was no way he knew her. This had to have been some mistake. For a minute there, Mother Doreen had allowed her mind to wander down the same thought path as earlier—that God was trying to give her a sign that she should not wed Wallace. But she’d come too far. She’d come all the way down that church aisle. No way He would have brought her this far . . . only to leave her here . . . alone . . . without a husband.

  Frustrated as frustrated could be at this point, Mother Doreen spoke up. “Look, sir, I have no idea who you are, and you surely don’t know me. Maybe I have the same name as someone you thought you knew,” Mother Doreen tried to reason. “I don’t know what your deal is.” She threw her hands up and let them drop to her side. “All I know is that this wedding is already almost two hours late in getting started.” She looked at Wallace. “And if I have to wait even one more minute to marry this wonderful man, then I’m going to lose my mind.”

  “How fitting you should say that,” the man chuckled, “lose your mind. Considering that’s exactly what happened to my mother thanks to you.”

  Still, Mother Doreen was very confused, and it showed on her exasperated face. “Child, I don’t know you or your mama.” Mother Doreen pointed her finger at the man. “But if I ever do meet your mother, I’m certainly going to tell her about your actions here today, and I’m sure she won’t be too proud about it.”

  “Lauren Casinoff,” were the words he said. Lauren Casinoff were the words that shot from his mouth like a hot bullet, and they landed right in Mother Doreen’s gut. The force was so hard that it shot her back into Wallace’s arms. Her limp body felt lifeless. The bullet of a word had hit a major organ; two to be exact. It had hit her heart. It had hit her brain. The blow to her brain shook Mother Doreen from the present, all the way back to the past. It was far back into the past leading up to the day when the name Lauren Casinoff would alter her life, and now, all these years later, possibly come back to destroy it.

  Chapter Six

  Of all the men in the state of Kentucky, Doreen Nelly Mae Hamilton had to be smitten with William Tucker. No one in town saw that love connection coming. The two were total opposites. Doreen was raised by parents who regularly attended and volunteered in the church. Willie’s parents ran a juke joint named Our Place, which Doreen’s parents referred to as a sin hole. Doreen dressed clean-cut and pretty; nice, handmade dresses as a result of her mother’s handiwork. Willie wore a style that the children of Generation X think they started—sagging. Why smooth, well-groomed, good girls always seemed to be a magnet for the boys who were rough around the edges, a.k.a. roughnecks, has yet to be figured out. Or was it the other way around? Was it the bad boys that attracted the good girls? Although the vote may still be out on that one, it was as clear as a bell that when it came to Doreen and Willie, the attraction was mutual. No one, not even Doreen’s parents, could deny that—try as they might.

  “The oldest of all three girls, what kind of example do you think you’re setting for your sisters?” Doreen’s mother rubbed her tiny baby bump that six months later would turn out to be yet another beautiful, bouncing baby girl for the Hamilton family.

  Doreen just stood in the kitchen looking down at the ugly green designs on the linoleum kitchen floor. She could not figure out for the life of her why shades of green were such a popular décor color. She looked up and around the kitchen at the chipping mint-green paint on the walls.

  “Child, are you paying me any type of never-mind?” Mrs. Hamilton asked her eldest daughter.

  “Yes, Mama, I’m listening,” Doreen lied, because she wasn’t. Why did she need to? She’d heard that same old song and dance a thousand times already. She’d heard it for over six months now, ever since old Willie boy introduced himself to her one night while she was walking home from the Jaimesons’ after babysitting their little one.

  He’d been hanging out at one of his boy’s houses after helping him and his young wife move into their new place. After a long day’s work, Willie and the fellas were hanging out on the front porch eating fried chicken and drinking beer, the payment for their labor.

  Doreen had been able to hear the lively bunch long before she ever saw them. Their language, that’s what had gotten her attention. Their mouths were just as foul as week old collard greens left out in the sun in the summertime . . . with a hunk of salt pork right in the middle of the pot. Doreen had thought their breaths had probably smelled like it too. Stinking words such as the ones they were using could only come from a stinking source.

  Disgusted and no longer willing to allow the men’s words to infiltrate her ear ducts, Doreen began to hum song 104 from the church hymn book. The closer she got to the men, the louder she had to hum until eventually she was singing. Even though she’d sung in the church choir since she could remember, Doreen wasn’t the best of singers. As a matter of fact, she’d never had a true desire to even sing in the choir. In her opinion, she’d chosen the worse of two evils when her parents made it clear to her that the Hamilton children would do something in the church, be it ushering or singing in the choir.

  Doreen’s younger sisters had chosen to usher, reasoning there weren’t weekly rehearsals for ushers, so they didn’t have to worry about giving up yet another one of their evenings to the Lord. They already gave up Tuesdays for evening devotional, Wednesdays for Bible Study, and then both Sunday mornings and evenings for the two services. Giving up Thursday evenings to rehearse songs that they could sing right from the church pew was out of the question.

  It was no biggie for Doreen, though. Actually, she looked at it as an opportunity to get out of the house and away from her nagging siblings. All they wanted to do was to sit up under Doreen and be in her business. They didn’t mean to be so annoying to Doreen. The girls were just so fascinated by their oldest sister, that they watched her every move. They wanted to walk like she walked, talk like she talked, and dress like she dressed. Their parents had indeed put their firstborn on a pedestal. She was the mold that all the Hamilton children would have to fit.

  At first, Doreen didn’t feel any pressure in having to be the perfect child. She liked it. It made her parents proud. She could see it in their eyes every time they looked at her. Not only that, but it made God proud too. Doreen could feel it in her spirit. God, her mother, and father were who Doreen would live to please. And as a result of the way she carried herself, she would receive favor from them all.

  Her mother would take in extra laundry in order to make money for the more expensive material to sew Doreen’s dresses. Her sisters never complained. They just waited around for their turn, because they knew it was only a matter of time before they’d get to wear Doreen’s hand-me-downs.

  Her father would always get his oldest daughter an extra quarter of a pound of licorice on Friday night after work and after cashing his paycheck. Of course, behind his back, she’d split the extra evenly among her siblings.

  God? Well, He was just God, showing Doreen how much He lov
ed her on a daily basis through His grace and mercy. In addition to that, God always seemed to answer every single last one of Doreen’s prayers in the affirmative. If she prayed she’d get an A on her test, she did. If she prayed she’d not get picked on to do a church solo, she didn’t get picked. Although Doreen could carry a tune back in the day, she knew dang well she didn’t stand a chance in being on one of today’s church praise and worship teams. Half of them might as well go ahead and sing rhythm and blues instead of gospel.

  Singing from her heart though, God allowed Doreen’s voice to blend in well enough so that there were no complaints from the choir director. Doreen’s voice had been included in the many local choir competitions, of which her church had won a few. The winning church always received a nice-size monetary donation that would ultimately go to some sort of building fund or another after each member of the choir and their families were treated to dinner.

  Much favor was Doreen shown by those she aimed to please most. In all honesty, she felt like Joseph from the Bible, only her siblings weren’t jealous of her. They’d quickly learned that if their older sister got blessed, then they ultimately got blessed too. If basking in their sister’s overflow was this rewarding, they could only imagine the favor and rewards that would come to them if they could be just like her.

  The perfect sister to her younger siblings, the perfect daughter to her parents, and the perfect Christian to God, that is what Doreen strived to be. And she’d been well on her way until she tried to add yet another task on her “Perfect List,” which was the perfect wife. Trying to be the perfect wife to William Tucker would end up being a perfect mistake.

  Chapter Seven

  Looking back on Doreen’s tenure with Willie that evening when she was walking home humming to drown out the expletives of her new neighbors, some might say when Willie stepped down off that porch and approached her, she should have kept right on going. The truth of the matter is that she had.