Don't Tell A Soul Read online

  My phone is ringing on the counter. The caller ID says that it’s my homegirl from way back—Shaquan. Oh, shoot! I had asked her to meet me at the Sister to Sister meeting this afternoon, and I totally forgot. She’s probably mad.

  For a second I consider not answering, but knowing Shaquan, she’s just going to keep calling me back until I answer.

  “Hey, Shaquan.”

  “What’s up, girl?”

  It always tickles me the way Shaquan says “girl” as if it has two syllables. It sounds like “gu-ruhl.”

  “Nada. What’s up with you?”

  “Nothing here, but your little church friends are off the chain.”

  I cringe involuntarily. “What happened? Was it Rhoda and Rochelle? I already told you not to pay attention to them.”

  “Well, Rhoda did call me a hood rat, but that wasn’t even all that bad compared to Pam.”

  “Pam?”

  “Yes, honey, she brought the drama with a capital D. Told that girl Carmisha, who I like, by the way, to get a j-o-b and stop begging the Lord for money.”

  My eyes widen, and my jaw drops. “No, she didn’t.”

  “Yes, she did. I thought Pam was about to swing on her, until Yvonne dragged her out of the meeting.”

  “Pam does not fight, Shaquan. Stop exaggerating.”

  “I don’t know Pam all like that, but I promise she was about to get rowdy, rowdy, okay?”

  “She was not!”

  “You weren’t there, Taylor. You might need to go holler at your girl.”

  I was going to see Pam, to ask her to pray with me about Joshua and Spencer. Shaquan might be my oldest friend, but Pam is my rock. She’s the one who prayed me through disappointment, shame, and helped me to learn how to love myself again. Pam is a true intercessor.

  What on earth could she be going through that would make her act this way? I hope Troy’s not drinking again. Sometimes he’s a straight-up buster! I’ve been Troy’s cheerleader from day one, but he needs to man up for real.

  “I think you’re right, Shaquan. I do need to holler at her . . . and pray for her. I’ll call you back, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  I hang up with Shaquan and dial Pam’s number. She answers on the fourth ring.

  “Hi, Taylor.”

  I listen closely to see if there’s anything out of sorts in Pam’s tone, but all I can hear is lots of noise in the background. It sounds like music.

  “What is all that noise, Pam? Is it a bad time?”

  “You know when Troy got rid of the studio, he brought his productions back home, to his study. It gets kind of loud in here. It is what it is.”

  Got rid of the studio is Pam being nice. Troy lost that warehouse that he had turned into a studio. He couldn’t afford the upkeep and the taxes on that commercial property. Luckily, they still have the home they purchased.

  “Do you need me to call you back?” I ask, the music starting to irritate me a little.

  “Let me go to another room.”

  I hear Pam’s heavy footfalls as she leaves the room, and the noise finally fades. “So what’s going on?” Pam asks. “Something wrong?”

  “No. Everything’s good over here. I’m just checking on you. Everything okay over there?”

  Pam pauses for a long moment and then chuckles. “Let me guess. Shaquan told you about the Sister to Sister meeting.”

  “She did mention something about you going slap off on Carmisha.”

  “Did she tell you I apologized? Some folks love to carry a story back and leave out the important parts.”

  “She didn’t mention your apology, and I promise Shaquan wasn’t trying to be mean-spirited. She thought the whole thing was kind of funny.”

  “It really wasn’t. I think I hurt Carmisha’s feelings.”

  “Well, she does need to get a job, so you told her the right thing to do.”

  “Thanks for trying to make me feel better, but I was awful to her. Did Shaquan tell you about Eva?”

  “No. Who’s she?”

  “Someone told her about the food pantry at the church, and she just happened to stop in during the Sister to Sister meeting,” Pam explains.

  “Oh, so she’s not a member?”

  “Not yet, but Yvonne is on a mission. She’s already started in on her.”

  I laugh out loud. “Then she doesn’t have a chance. Yvonne won’t quit until she’s baptized, filled with the Holy Ghost, speaking in tongues, and healing folk.”

  “I know, right!” Finally, Pam starts to sound like her usual cheerful self.

  “So what are you doing today? Want to go get pedicures or something?”

  “That sounds wonderful, but I can’t. Cicely has cheer practice, and Gretchen has soccer. Then TJ will be up under me for the rest of the day, because Troy and his new producing partner, Logan, are working with Aria.”

  “So you’re on Mom duty today.”

  “And then some. Does Joshua have a soccer game today?”

  “He had one yesterday, but he’s hanging out with my brother today, so I’m gonna get a breather.”

  “Enjoy, girl. I am incredibly envious of you.”

  I laugh out loud. “Ain’t nobody tell you and Troy to keep popping out babies left and right!”

  “I know, girl. Enjoy your peace and quiet.”

  “I’m about to enjoy those ladies rubbing my feet and a glass of Moscato, too!”

  “Go ahead and rub it in! I’ll see you at church tomorrow. Yvonne is singing a solo, so don’t get there late.”

  I do have a reputation for getting to church just when the preaching begins, but I would love to hear Yvonne’s singing. Joining the choir was something she did after she divorced Luke. No one knew she had such a wonderful voice. It was almost like she didn’t even know.

  “Talk to you later, Pam. If you get a free moment today, let me know. Maybe we could get some coffee or something.”

  “Oh, wait! I forgot to tell you! I got offered a book deal.”

  “You forgot to tell me that? Girl, what is wrong with you? Did you accept it? When do we celebrate?”

  “I haven’t accepted it yet, because I need a proposal for a second book. The offer is contingent on me having more than one book idea.”

  “That’s easy, girl! Why don’t you write about a single mom with a bootleg baby daddy who finally finds her Prince Charming? That sounds like something I’d read!”

  Pam laughs out loud. “That sounds like a Tyler Perry movie! But maybe I will write a romance! I’d have to do some research, though, because Troy hasn’t romanced me in forever.”

  “Who knows, maybe if you start writing a romance, you’ll feel more romantic. Just don’t have no more babies.”

  “I rebuke that in the name of Jesus!” Pam shouts. “Girl, let me talk to you later!”

  “Okay, bye.”

  There is absolutely something going on with Pam. This book deal has been the most important dream she’s had since we became friends. For her not to be screaming it from the rooftop tells me that something ain’t right. And usually when there’s something wrong with Pam, it can be traced to one person. Troy. I’ve talked Pam out of walking out on him more than once. But if he’s hurting my girl again, he’s gonna have to deal with me, too, and I do not play.

  CHAPTER 4

  YVONNE

  After getting married at nineteen and staying married for twenty years, I never thought I’d enjoy being alone. I never thought I’d get used to sleeping alone, to not making dinner for someone, to not having to ask permission for the simplest things.

  But I have become quite accustomed to this single life. Solitude does not have to equal loneliness, and I am just fine not having a man in my life. I hear women talking all the time about their needs, but I am not having a problem at all being saved and single.

  “Just one?” The hostess at the restaurant has a bit of pity in her tone, as if a beautiful black woman can’t dine alone on a Saturday night without being desperate.
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  Obviously, she doesn’t know me very well. I’ve got a taste for P.F. Chang’s, and there’s no way the lack of a man is going to keep me from those delicious lettuce wraps.

  “Just one!”

  “Would you like to sit at the bar?”

  “No, honey. A booth would be nice.”

  No, she did not try to seat me at the bar, like that’s where single women like to eat their dinner. This poor child has got me confused. If I wasn’t saved and sanctified, I’d give her a piece of my mind, but I’m about to get my relax on and read my novel.

  I follow the girl over to the big leather booth. She probably had hoped to seat a party of five here, but I got here first! Here’s to me, good food, and the single life.

  I ease into the booth and relax. Since no one is here with me, I kick off my shoes under the table. I never would’ve done that eight years ago. Luke would’ve embarrassed me and called me country. Well . . . so what if I’m country? I’m doing me.

  I open my novel, An Inconvenient Friend, by Rhonda McKnight. Talk about drama! Enjoying fiction is another new thing about me. Who knew a story could be so much fun and teach me a lesson, too? To think I’d spent all my time reading Bible concordances and devotionals.

  As I read, I think about Pam. My best friend is going through something. I have never seen her act so ugly toward anyone. And poor Carmisha! It is true that she needs to get a job, but the child is the product of three generations of mothers on welfare. It’s going to take some time, prayer, and effort to break that cycle. Pam knows that. Pam has prayed for that girl, with that girl.

  “Good evening, ma’am. Will someone be joining you, or would you like to order now?”

  I beam a smile at the waitress. “I would love to order now. I will have the lettuce wraps and a water with lime.”

  “Coming right up. My name is Sharday, if you need anything.”

  “Okay. Thank you, honey.”

  It annoys me, just a little, that Sharday called me ma’am. Something about the term just makes me feel old. And I know that I’m not. Forty-seven is far from used up. I keep reading that fifty is the new thirty! I’m inclined to agree. I sure would like to relive my thirties. I’d do a lot of things differently.

  The first thing I’d change is staying married to Luke. I knew he was cheating on me, even before he seduced Taylor. I’m sure she wasn’t the first young lady at our church to fall under his spell. I should’ve left him the first time he went away for the weekend and came back with laundry that smelled like perfume. But back then I thought it was godly to suffer in silence.

  I hear my phone buzzing away in my purse, so I pull it out. I’ve received a new text message.

  Thinking of you this evening. Wishing we were spending time together. Let me know when you’re ready. Kingston

  I can’t stop the smile from blossoming on my face. Kingston is persistent! He’s been asking me out on dates for the past two years, ever since I joined the choir. I’ve politely declined, not just because he’s the choir director, but because he’s just too fine. His caramel-colored skin, hazel green eyes, and deep, wavy hair take my breath away. He thinks that I’m playing hard to get, and so does everyone else. But I’m afraid I wouldn’t be so hard to get if I started seeing him. My Lord, what if I’m easy? Folk gone be calling me a choir groupie.

  Even if I was interested in getting to know Kingston better, I think it would be strange to be married to another man. I can’t even think about learning another man’s intimate habits or subjecting myself to someone new. And letting another man see me naked when Luke is the only man I’ve ever known? The thought of it makes me shudder.

  I close out of the text without responding. While I am flattered by Kingston’s pursuit, I am not ready for another relationship.

  Sharday walks by and leaves my water on the table. The lime gives it a kick and keeps me from ordering some sugary beverage that I shouldn’t have. That’s the other thing that’s changed about me. The new Yvonne is fit! I’ve never had a weight problem, but my body looks better now than it has ever looked.

  I turn my attention back to my book and try to wait patiently for my lettuce wraps. My stomach growls as the wonderful aromas in the restaurant tease my nostrils.

  “Hello, Yvonne.”

  The familiar voice rips open a wound in my heart that I thought was healed. Slowly, I drag my eyes away from the page and look into the face of my ex-husband. Without thinking, I slide my feet back into my shoes and sit up straight.

  “Luke.”

  He chuckles. “That’s all? Just Luke? After twenty years of loving each other, I’d think we could be a little more cordial than that.”

  I spent twenty years loving him. He did not spend those years loving me. Not the way I needed to be loved. I really can’t believe he went there.

  And Luke’s got the nerve to look incredible. He is aging well. The salt-and-pepper hair is now more salt than pepper, but his nearly white goatee against his dark skin is very attractive. Unless he’s wearing some kind of girdle for men, he’s taken care of his physique, too—not even a sign of a beer belly. The only thing that’s different is the eye patch over his left eye. I wonder if it’s real or a fashion statement.

  “It’s been a long time, Yvonne,” he continues. “It’s good to see you looking well.”

  It has been a long time. Nowhere near long enough. I could’ve gone the rest of my life without ever seeing him again.

  “Same to you, Luke. I didn’t know you were back in town.”

  “I am. I moved back to be closer to my son.”

  My Lord. This almost makes me burst into laughter. Taylor’s husband, Spencer, has raised Joshua, and he’s the only father that boy knows.

  “That’s good news, Luke. May I ask what happened to your eye?”

  Luke sighs. “This is a consequence. Got into a fight when I was locked up.”

  Now, this almost makes me feel good, even though I know it shouldn’t. God wouldn’t be pleased with that evil thought. But since Luke decided to use me for a punching bag, I can’t make myself feel sympathetic. Looks like he finally stepped to someone his own size and got his eyeball handed to him.

  “I am sorry to hear that,” I lie.

  “Since you don’t seem all that happy to see me, I’m going to let you enjoy your meal . . . and your book. Have a wonderful evening.”

  “You do the same, Luke.”

  I don’t know why Luke thinks I’d be happy to see him. He spent a year in jail after nearly killing me with a beating. I’m supposed to be ecstatic when he walks in the room? I don’t think so. It took every bit of Holy Spirit to keep me from grabbing my Mace and spraying him as a precaution.

  My eyes follow Luke as he walks away. I try to look back at my book, but curiosity has always gotten the best of me.

  Luke stops at his table and kisses a woman on the cheek. A beautiful black woman with hair flowing down to the middle of her back. A young woman. I can’t tell for sure from where I’m sitting, but she looks about half his age.

  He says something to her, and she throws her head back and giggles. I don’t remember giggling when I was with Luke. As a matter of fact, he would’ve told me that I was loud and I was embarrassing him if I had.

  The woman is gorgeous and vibrant and free.

  So why is she with Luke?

  I force my eyes away from them and back to my book, but the words are now a blur. I am surprised when a tear splashes down onto the pages. I thought I was done crying.

  Luke is living life. He looks . . . joyful. But I’m sitting here, alone, and crying over something that should be left behind. It is not fair that he should be happy with another woman. He does not deserve another relationship after what he did to me! He should suffer alone in retribution for his sins.

  I am fine with not seeking my own revenge as long as he reaps what he’s sown. Isn’t that what the Bible says? I know what he’s sown. The reaping shouldn’t be a beautiful woman.

  Why isn’t God
punishing him?

  CHAPTER 5

  EVA

  Eva slid into the pew and folded her hands in her lap. She didn’t want to draw any attention to herself, so she looked at the floor and tapped her foot, waiting for the service to start. She’d wanted to sit in the last row, but the usher wouldn’t let her. She told Eva that the last rows were reserved for latecomers. She’d remember that if she ever decided to come back.

  Eva wasn’t sure why she’d come to church. She did feel a little obligated after they gave her the food that she so desperately needed, but that wasn’t the reason she’d gotten up and put on another nice outfit. Eva bit her lip, trying to figure out her own motives.

  One thing she knew was that she didn’t need another handout, because that night she was supposed to start a new job. At a strip club.

  Eva told herself that it was a step out of the porn industry. She wouldn’t be having sex with anyone, and she’d shown her body to strangers for years. At least they couldn’t touch her. And she’d have rent money. As twisted as it might sound, she thought the call from the Gentlemen’s Den was a blessing.

  Eva glanced from right to left at the families and churchgoers. She felt that they could see right through her St. John’s Bay suit and six-dollar panty hose. She smoothed her hair over her eye and straightened her glasses on her nose. Eva was in disguise with her schoolgirl look. It was a necessity. She never knew when she’d run into a fan or, worse, a porn addict.

  Luckily, she looked a lot different in her films than she did in real life. When Eva went onto the set of an adult movie, she wore wigs and a ridiculous amount of makeup. She was so undercover that it would be hard for her own mother to recognize her. Like every other star in the industry, she didn’t use her own name. X-Stacy was her porn handle—like the drug, and what the viewer was supposed to feel when they watched.

  Eva’s leg shook nervously as the other attendees filled up the pews around her. Soon she was lost in a sea of worshippers and their children. She breathed a sigh of relief when the service started and no one had tried to start a conversation with her. A few people had said “Good morning,” but none had gone the extra step to engage her.