Flaw Less (2 page)

—
Lawson Kerry Banks

 

 

“Don't nobody know but the one who's in it,” thirty-one-year-old Lawson solemnly declared upon hearing that one of Mount Zion Ministries' seemingly most stable couples was headed for divorce. “Freddie and Jasmine always seemed like the perfect couple. Then again, we all thought E'Bell and Kina were happy too, but we didn't know the hell she was going through in her own home.” Lawson shook her head and shuddered, recalling the years of physical and emotional abuse her cousin and best friend, Kina Battle, endured during the ten-year marriage to her late husband, E'Bell.

Angel agreed. “When I think of what she went through at the hands of the man who was supposed to love her, it breaks my heart. Just knowing the toll it took on Kina's self-esteem and the effect shooting his dad has had on Kenny is enough to make even the most devout Christian speak ill of the dead. Thank God between our prayers and counseling, they seem to be coping.”

Reginell began scraping blackend flakes off a burnt-to-a-crisp chicken leg, which was a product of her first attempt at cooking for her sister, Lawson, and their three closest friends. “It just goes to show that you never know what's going on behind closed doors. Remember when the whole church thought Sullivan and Pastor Webb were Savannah's answer to Ruth and Boaz?” She raised her eyes toward Sullivan. “Nothing like a little Internet sex tape to shatter that illusion, ain't that right, Sully?”

Mount Zion Ministries' first lady Sullivan Webb smiled and flung her newly purchased weave over her shoulder with one French-manicured hand to show that Reginell's snide comments about the year-old scandal no longer fazed her. “While my slight indiscretion was a dark cloud over my husband's ministry and my marriage, I can't think of anything as bad as this disaster that you're trying to pass off as dinner. Honestly, I don't know what's worse—the storm brewing outside or your cooking!”

Angel glanced out of Reginell's dining-room window at the ominous clouds gathering across the dense November sky. “It's supposed to get pretty bad out there.” She turned and frowned at the foamy lump heaped onto the plate. “But Mother Nature has her work cut out for her if she wants to beat these mashed potatoes. At least, I
think
these are mashed potatoes.”

Reginell sprang from her seat and snatched up the bowl of remaining potatoes in a huff, causing her braids to swing wildly across her shoulders as she turned away. “This is the
last
time I try to do anything nice for you heifers!” she spat.

Sullivan raised an eyebrow. “This is your idea of doing something
nice
for us?”

“Hey, lay off my baby sister! She's doing her best,” cried Lawson, coming to Reginell's defense as usual. “Besides, we haven't even gotten to the dessert. Reggie, I just peeked in the oven and saw that beautiful chocolate pie you have cooling off in there. I can't wait to dig into it!”

Reginell looked confused. “Chocolate pie? I don't know how to make no chocolate pie. The only pie I made was a sweet potato pie.”

Lawson winced and eased away from her sister. “You might wanna go check on it, boo. It's looking more like
burnt
potato pie at the moment.”

Reginell cussed and dashed into the kitchen.

It was a typical Sunday afternoon for lifelong friends Sullivan, Lawson, Angel, and Reginell, who gathered together as often as possible to share the latest gossip, obsess over their most recent man crisis, and thank the Lord for His presence and each other.

Sullivan laughed and raked her fork across the plate. “You'd think with all the money she makes sliding up and down the pole at the club that she would've had the meal catered and spared us this catastrophe. I'm actually embarrassed for her.”

“Reggie is trying to show us how mature and domestic she's gotten, Sully,” Lawson reminded her.

Sullivan threw down her fork. “Either Reggie wants to be Martha Stewart or Amber Rose. She's got to make a choice.”

Lawson inspected her plate, hoping to find something that looked edible. “She says dancing down at that strip club is just temporary. She's still hoping that it'll lead to her meeting some music mogul who'll sign her to a record deal.”

“That's the same thing she said a year ago when we found out she was working there,” piped in Angel.

“I know,” admitted Lawson. “But she's almost twenty-three years old. She's a grown woman. Reggie is going to do exactly what Reggie wants to do.”

Sullivan stabbed a foreign congealed substance on her plate. “Judging by this dinner, what she wants to do right now is poison us!”

“Not everybody, Sullivan,” snarled Reginell, barging into the room. “Just you.”

“Oh, no!” barked Angel. “We are not about to start this again. I swear you two are worse than the girls with all this back-and-forth bickering.”

“How are those precious little angels?” asked Lawson in reference to Angel's soon-to-be stepchildren, offsprings from her ex-husband's marriage to his deceased wife.

Angel rolled her eyes. “They may be ‘precious' and ‘little,' but the jury is still out on the ‘angels' part.”

Lawson looked up from her plate. “What's happened?”

“Same ol', same ol'. Miley and Morgan miss their mom. They're still adjusting to the idea of Duke and me getting married and having a new stepmother, which is why . . .” Angel's voice trailed off.

“Which is why what?” prodded Sullivan.

Angel lowered her voice, already anticipating her friends' disapproval. “Duke asked me to move in with them, and I said yes.”

Lawson frowned and shook her head. “Shacking up—
really,
Angel?”

“It makes the most sense,” she rationalized. “Duke needs help with the girls, and I'm over there all the time. I'm practically living there anyway. It's just more convenient this way.”

Lawson raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, but you know what the Word says about it: ‘Marriage should be honored by all, and the marriage bed kept pure, for God will judge the adulterer and all the sexually immoral.'”

Sullivan sucked her teeth. “Don't be a hypocrite, Lawson. You and Garrett lived together for five years before you got married.”

“Yeah, but once we got saved, I kicked his butt out,” pointed out Lawson.

“The wedding is in a few months. I don't see the harm in getting started on our family life a little early,” Angel reasoned.

“I'm sure you don't. Unfortunately, God does,” replied Lawson. “Besides, Angel, you and Duke haven't even been back together that long.”

Sullivan leaned in closer to Angel. “Wouldn't you feel weird living there with all of Theresa's stuff still all over the place? It's like she's still living there.”

Angel pretended not to be bothered by it. “Duke just keeps it for the kids' sake. He doesn't want them to feel like they have to forget their mother, and neither do I. As for me moving in, it's not like we aren't planning to get married or like we're not already—”

“Sleeping together?” filled in Sullivan.

Angel let out a sigh. “We were married for three years before getting a divorce so—”

“There's no harm in being his wife between the sheets, right?” finished Lawson.

Angel rolled her eyes and forced Reginell's oversea-soned green beans down her palate. “Considering all of the commandments broken between everybody at this table, I don't think anyone here is in a position to pass judgment.”

“Amen to that,” muttered Sullivan.

“Are you sure you and Duke aren't rushing things?” Lawson posed. “I mean, within six months after Theresa's death, you and Duke were already boo'ed up again. Three or four months after that, you were engaged. Now, you're moving in. His wife hasn't even been dead a whole year. It just seems like things are moving kind of fast.”

“Lawson, I've been waiting to be Duke's wife again since our divorce was finalized ten years ago, and you know I've always wanted to be a mother. None of this feels rushed to me. If anything, I've had my life on hold too long. Now, I'm ready to live it.” Angel wiped her hands on a napkin. “Enough about that. It's time for a new subject. How is Operation Baby coming, Sully?”

Sullivan's mood spiraled downward. “It's coming along, I guess.”

Lawson raised her eyes. “Well, you and Charles, um, making an effort, right? You know you have to do more than just wish for a baby. It requires a bit of work.”

“
I'm
making an effort, but getting Charles to the bedroom has been like pulling teeth these days. I've had to all but strap him to the bed and make him take it!”

Angel snickered. “That's a far cry from last year when you were sending him to bed alone with a bottle of lotion and a deflated ego.”

Sullivan sighed. “Yeah, I know, but I'm already thirty-one and at forty-eight, Charles is no spring chicken! At this rate, we'll be older than Abraham and Sarah before we have a baby. That's why I may need to take matters out of Charles's hands—
literally
—and into my own.”

“Uh-oh,” groaned Lawson. “It never ends well when you decide to do that. Why can't you wait on the Lord sometimes, Sully? I believe He's been at this life thing a lot longer than you have.”

The doorbell rang. Reginell answered and let Kina in. “You're soaking wet! Can you shake yourself off before coming in? I don't want you messing up this carpet, costing me my deposit.”

“Relax, Reggie. No harm done.” Kina let down her umbrella and breezed into the dining area. “So what have I missed?”

“It's about time you got here!” Sullivan huffed. “You know we don't like to be kept waiting.”

“Says the Princess of CP Time,” grunted Angel.

Sullivan sucked her teeth. “Just because I'm usually late doesn't mean I tolerate it in others.”

Kina joined them at the table. “The interview ran longer than I thought it would,” explained Kina. “On top of that, traffic was slow because of all the rain.”

“Well, how did it go?” pressed Angel King, passing Kina a plate. “Did you get the job? Are you going to be the pastor's new administrative assistant or what?”

Kina placed a napkin in her lap. “He said he was going to call me in tomorrow to give me his decision.” Angel nodded. Kina reached over and touched Angel's hand. “And I hope you know my quitting isn't about you, Angel. I'm very happy working for you, but now that I'm a single parent, you know I need the money.”

“No, you deserve this, girl. There's no way I could pay you what the church is offering.”

“Sullivan, you could help the girl out with a little pillow talk with your husband tonight,” playfully suggested Reginell. “You know you don't do anything else in bed to get the man excited.”

Angel laughed. “You know, Pastor Charles is the only one I'm willing to lose you to! I'm going to miss having you around. You're the best assistant I've ever had at Guardian Angel.”

“You'll find someone in no time,” Kina assured her. “And you know it's nothing personal. Working at the church just fits into my schedule better now that I'm in school full time. Maybe you should think about hiring Reggie to fill my spot.”

Reginell cleared her throat and sat down. “Reginell
has
a job.”

“Don't get me started on the kind of job it is,” fired Sullivan.

Reginell rolled her eyes. “I know that you all can't see how this is helping my career, but it is. You'll never guess who I met last night. Tron and all of the other guys from that group Intermission. I was
this close
to signing with Down South Records.”

“So what stopped you?” posed Lawson.

Reginell shook her head. “It just wasn't the right deal for me, that's all. But I know I can sing. One day very soon, there's going to be a record deal on the table with my name on it, you'll see,” she vowed.

“But in the meantime, I assume you'll still be entertaining perverts down there at Paramours,” surmised Sullivan.

Reginell stiffened at the snarky remark. “Honestly, I don't know why you all still act like stripping is the worst thing in the world! Personally, I see nothing wrong with celebrating the human body.”

“Celebrating the body is one thing.
Selling
the body is another matter altogether,” replied Lawson. Reginell flashed a cold glare in her sister's direction.

Kina tried to break the tension. “So what's for dinner?” she asked, looking around at the still-f plates.

“Don't worry, there's plenty left over.” Sullivan slid her plate across the table. “You can have mine.”

Kina's eyes widened. “Wow, this looks . . .” She gulped and scrambled for something kind to say. “It looks like you put a lot of time and effort into this dinner, Reggie.” She passed the plate back to Sullivan. “But I ate a banana on the way over so I'm good.” She patted her stomach. “I'm still on my diet, you know. I got to watch what I eat if I want to be able to fit into all these size sixteens I just bought.”

“Down to a sixteen from size twenty, huh?” Angel smiled. “Congratulations!”

“Well, a lot of the credit goes to you and all those salads you make me order whenever we go to lunch.”