The Preachers Son (24 page)

Bishop T.K. Wilson walked proudly down the aisle of his church, nodding and waving to his friends, family, and colleagues as he made his way to the altar. For T.K., today was a good day. Not only was his son Dante getting married to a woman he absolutely adored, but his daughter Donna, who was having his first grandchild, was just taken off bed rest and would be attending the wedding as the matron of honor. And if that news wasn’t good enough, his numbers in the polls had jumped up an amazing ten points in the last week, making him a virtual shoo-in for the borough presidency. As a testament to his expected win, members of the news media were present in force at the wedding. T.K. and his family had become big news, and all the attention was a great thing for his church. Yes, today was a good day for Bishop T.K. Wilson.

When he reached the altar, he looked out among the hundreds of guests and beamed. It was fulfilling to see his church so crowded for his son’s wedding. There was no doubt this was going to be a wedding to remember. There was clergy from as far away as Africa, and even his friend David Dinkins, the former mayor of New York, was in attendance. He sat in a pew near former presidential candidate Reverend Al Sharpton.

When Dante and his best man, Shorty, joined the bishop at the altar, the organ music filtered into the church, signaling to the guests that the wedding was about to begin. The procession began with his lovely wife, escorted to her seat in the front by two handsome young ushers. Charlene looked positively regal, and T.K. was glad. She had worked hard and deserved to feel proud of the grand event she had put together. Charlene had done a magnificent job of pulling things together during the past few months and her hard work had paid off. He smiled at his wife then looked to the aisle, where he saw the bride’s young brother escorting another woman to the front. Aubrey left the woman and hurried back to escort his sister down the aisle.

As the bishop watched the woman settle into the first pew on the bride’s side, he wondered who she was. He had not met any of Tanisha’s family yet, but assumed this must be one of them. Whoever she was, T.K. was puzzled, because for some reason she looked very familiar. The woman looked up, and when her eyes met the bishop’s, she paused momentarily. Clearly, she was also wondering if they had met before, but neither one could remember when or where. Their eye contact was only fleeting, because soon the bridesmaids and groomsmen were coming down the aisle and taking their places beside the altar. The bishop’s very pregnant daughter was the last to take her place before the organist began “The Wedding March.” The church was filled with the rustling sound of six hundred guests rising at once to greet the bride.

All eyes were on Tanisha. Her stunning beauty enchanted many guests as she seemed to float down the aisle toward her groom. Before she reached the altar, she kissed her brother, then joined the rest of the wedding party to stand at the altar beside Dante. When everyone was in place, the bishop asked the bride and groom to join hands. He stood in front of them with a heartfelt smile spread across his face.

“We are gathered here today to join Tanisha Jones and Dante Wilson together in holy matrimony. Now, we all know that weddings are special occasions, but for me, this is an extra special occasion. It’s not every day a father gets to preside over the marriage of his own son, and it makes it even more special that my son is marrying a woman as extraordinary as Tanisha. Tanisha, I am so pleased you will soon be a member of my family.” The bishop smiled at Dante and kissed Tanisha before continuing. The guests in attendance were touched. They could feel that they were indeed at a very special wedding.

When it came time for the bride and groom to say their “I do’s,” unlike Donna and Shorty’s wedding, both Dante and Tanisha responded loudly and without hesitation. Tanisha even added a little emphasis when she said, “I do, I do, I do!” This brought a laugh from the guests.

The bishop smiled and turned them toward their guests. “If there is anyone among you who has reason that these two should not be lawfully wed as man and wife, please speak now or forever hold your peace.”

Of course, there was no one who could possibly object to this very special union, so the bishop turned the happy couple back toward the altar and announced the exchanging of the rings. The bishop turned to the best man, but before Shorty could get the ring box out of his pocket, there was a commotion in the front pew. The woman next to Aubrey jumped up and shouted, “Stop the wedding!” Immediately, every eye in the church was on her.

Tanisha turned quickly when she recognized the voice. “Momma? Oh no,” she muttered weakly. Her voice was a mixture of confusion and pain.

“Tanisha, you can’t marry him!” the woman shouted in a panic.

“Momma, stop this, what are you doing?” Her embarrassment was evident.

The church erupted with the noise of conversations among six hundred guests wanting to know who this woman was who dared to interrupt such a beautiful ceremony. Of course, the reporters in the church were furiously scribbling in their notebooks by now.

The woman stepped away from the pew and rushed toward the altar. Tanisha gathered up her train and approached the woman, followed by Dante and Bishop Wilson. The group met in the aisle between the front pews. First Lady Wilson struggled to maintain her composure as she watched all her hard work crumbling before her eyes.

“Momma,” Tanisha said through her tears, “how could you do this? Why are you embarrassing me like this?”

“I’m not embarrassing you, baby. I’m saving your life. You can’t marry that boy.”

Tanisha was too distraught to speak, and Dante didn’t know what to say either. He had spent so much time with Marlene and thought they had developed some sort of a bond during his visits to the jail. Protesting the wedding was the last thing he would have expected her to do.

“Why can’t they marry?” the bishop asked, stepping closer to the woman Tanisha had identified as her mother. Everyone in attendance seemed to lean in closer, as if they didn’t want to miss a word of the woman’s explanation.

Marlene’s tone softened ever so slightly as she looked into the bishop’s eyes and said, “Because you’re her father, Thomas Kelly.”

There was an immediate gasp from all in attendance as photographers’ bulbs flashed and video cameras whirred. This would be headline news, better than any reporter in the building could possibly have ever dreamed.

T.K.’s eyes widened as recognition settled in. He hadn’t been called Thomas Kelly in over twenty years, and now he knew who this woman was. Yes, she had gained some weight since he’d last seen her and the years hadn’t been kind to her but he definitely knew her. He also believed her when she said that Tanisha was his daughter. His skeletons had just fallen out of the closet.

“Marlene?” He spoke barely above a whisper.

“Yes, Thomas, it’s me, Marlene.”

“Oh my God. This can’t be happening,” First Lady Wilson muttered when the reality of the situation hit her. Shortly after that she fainted.

I felt like I was on an episode of
The Twilight Zone
or, even worse,
Jerry Springer
. Here I was thinking the bishop was a perfect man, then I find out he not only had a child outside his marriage to my mother, he didn’t even acknowledge the child existed for more than twenty years. So much for family values. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, the child he seemed to have forgotten also happened to be the woman I loved. I had almost married my own sister earlier in the day. Things couldn’t possibly be any worse.

Once Marlene made her announcement, chaos took over the church. My poor mother fainted on the spot. I had to fight my way over to her through the crowd that seemed to instantly materialize in front of the altar. Most of them were reporters and cameramen ready to record my family’s most horrifying moment for the evening news. I almost slugged one guy.

As soon as I was able to get my mother back on her feet, I led her across the altar toward the back exit, where Shorty had already escorted my sister to safety. My mother went out the back door and headed to Shorty’s car while I stopped and took one last look at the scene inside the church. Like a pack of wolves, the news crews had surrounded Marlene and Tanisha. I could only hope that they had enough common sense to keep their mouths shut. Aubrey still sat in the front pew, looking scared and bewildered. My father was somehow managing to pretend he didn’t hear the questions from the reporters as he held his head high and tried to regain some semblance of order in his church. I doubted he would be able to do that, and I wondered if that would ever be possible within his own family. It hurt me to think it, but the word
hate
was at the forefront of my mind as I looked at him.

Shorty drove my mother, Donna, and me back to the house in complete silence. I was too numb to even think about stringing together enough words to make a complete thought. Donna sat in the front seat next to Shorty, making no sound, but I watched her shoulders heave and knew she was crying. Every few minutes I looked over at my mother to be sure she was okay. She sat eerily still, staring out the window with absolutely no expression on her face. I was worried she might need medical attention if she didn’t snap out of it soon. Again when I thought about the bishop, I thought about hate.

Inside the house, we settled in the den and stared at each other in continued silence. I don’t think anyone knew where to even begin discussing what the hell had happened. Donna’s eyes were red and puffy, and my mother’s eyes still looked like she was a million miles away. I started to think of Tanisha and the fact that she was my sister. It didn’t take long before my stomach erupted and I had to run to the bathroom to throw up, something I’d already done several times since I’d been home. As I stood at the sink to rinse my mouth, I stared at my reflection in the mirror and wondered what I was supposed to do now. I was in love with a woman who I could never be with, and as far as I was concerned, it was all the bishop’s fault. I slammed my hand on the sink, releasing some of my anger. There was no doubt in my mind. I hated him.

When I returned to the den, I found my mother, Donna, and Shorty huddled around the television. Shorty had probably turned it on to distract them from their troubled thoughts, but it proved to be no help. Every local station had interrupted their regular programming to bring viewers a news flash, a peek into the shattered lives of the Wilson family.

I shut the television off in disgust. This brief news report was obviously only the beginning of a storm of unwanted attention my family would be receiving. In fact, I knew it was only a matter of time before the news vans would be parked outside our house and the phone would be ringing off the hook. Probably the only thing that had delayed the reporters’ arrival was the six hundred guests at the wedding. I wondered how many of them were still at the church, waiting in line for their chance to be interviewed and get their fifteen minutes of fame.

Donna was the first one to finally speak. “I can’t believe the bishop would do this,” she said, rising slowly from her seat. She began to pace back and forth across the room, holding her swollen stomach as if it might fall to the ground.

“Donna, honey, will you please sit down?” Shorty pleaded. He tried to gently lead her back to the sofa. “I know you’re stressed, but think about the baby. The doctor said you should stay off your feet.”

“No, Shorty, I don’t wanna sit down. What I want is for the bishop to come home and explain what the hell is going on.” She balled up her fists, placed them against her forehead, and let out a scream.

“Madonna, calm down,” my mother said in a commanding voice. I was relieved to see her coming out of her trance. “Shorty’s right. You should sit down. Your pregnancy is stressful enough as it is. We don’t want you going into premature labor.”

Donna’s body seemed to crumple under the emotional strain. Shorty grabbed her and guided her back to the sofa as she sobbed, “I want my daddy.”

“Son, are you all right?” my mother asked softly as she reached for my hand. I was still speechless as I sat beside her with tears welling in my eyes.

My mother wrapped her arm around my shoulder and I laid my head on her breast like a child. We were supposed to be comforting her, but she was the one showing incredible strength in the face of all of this. I had always known she was a strong woman, but she hadn’t shed one tear. This amazed me, because the public drama had to be tearing her up inside.

“I hate him. I swear to God, Ma, I hate him.” I couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. I’d never felt so much pain in all my life. I wanted to step outside my body at that point and be anybody but me, because as far as I was concerned, my life as Dante Wilson was in ruins.

My mother stroked my head as she soothed me. “Don’t say that, baby. You just don’t understand. None of you will ever understand.”

Though her voice was calm, her face looked drained, as if the last few hours had taken their toll on her. For the first time, I could see her real self through her always flawless makeup, and I noticed that she was getting old. Her hair was turning gray around the edges, and a few wrinkles creased her usually smooth olive complexion.

“No, Ma, I understand perfectly. He’s a lying, cheating, deadbeat bastard. I can’t believe he did this to me. For Christ’s sake, my relationship with Tanisha was incest, and everyone with a TV or radio knows about it! He’s ruined my life.”

I felt like I needed to run to the bathroom again. Every time I thought about Tanisha being my sister, my stomach started to do flips. We’d made love so many times I couldn’t even count them.

“Dante, please don’t judge your father. He loves you. He loves all of you.”

I couldn’t believe what she had just said. How could she stand by that—that snake?

“I don’t want his love. I don’t want anything from him. Right now, I hate the fact that he’s even my father.”

She sat up, releasing me. “Don’t you say that. Don’t you ever say that again,” she said in that same calm voice. “He may have made some mistakes, but he is always going to be your father.”

The door opened, and we all turned to see the bishop enter the house. Donna’s sobs became louder, and my stomach lurched. Just the sight of him made me wanna throw up again. My mother rose and went to my father. I wanted to jump up and smack him, yet she was approaching him with such tenderness. His face was blanketed with the look of defeat.

“It’s over,” he told her quietly. “I spoke to the party chairman and withdrew from the race.”

“No, T.K.!” My mother wrapped her arms around his waist, buried her face in his shoulder, and finally released an ocean of tears.

“It’s okay, Charlene. It’s going to be okay.” He stroked her hair gently as she sobbed against his chest.

“Okay?” I shouted in a rage. “What fucking world are you living in? It’s not going to be okay! Nothing is going to be okay, and it’s all because of you!”

My mother lifted her head. “Dante, stop it.”

“No, you stop it. Stop defending him. Can’t you see what he’s done? He humiliated you. You’re the laughingstock of the church, and soon we’ll all be the laughingstock of the whole damn city! I can see the headlines now. Bishop T.K. Wilson and his incestuous family.”

“I said stop it! You don’t understand.” My mother’s tears had dried up, and the anger that should have been directed at the bishop was being unleashed on me.

“No, Charlene, let him speak. He’s entitled. He’s had as bad a day as any of us.”

I took a step toward him. “You don’t know the half of it, you…you fucking bastard. And you’ve got the nerve to call yourself a man of God. You ain’t a man of God. You ain’t nothing but a heathenous devil worshipper.”

“Don’t cross the line, son,” he warned.

“Why not? Who are you to tell me what’s right and wrong at this point? Look what you’ve done. Tell me something. How many other times did you screw around on my mother? I bet you’ve been through half the congregation. How many other brothers and sisters do we have out there, huh, Bishop?”

“Dante, stop it,” my mother snapped.

“Dante, when the time is right, I will tell you and your sister about my relationship with Marlene, but not until your mother and I have a chance to talk.” He was using that same austere voice he usually reserved for dealing with irate church members, and it was pissing me off.

“Tell me now, goddammit!” If he wasn’t going to speak, I would get him to open his mouth another way. My fist flew toward his jaw. He moved out of the way pretty quickly, but I still managed to graze him. Shorty jumped on me from behind before I could get in another swing.

“No, bro. You can’t do this. He still your father.”

As I struggled to free myself from Shorty’s grasp, there was a loud banging at the door. Everyone froze. This was it, the first of the reporters who would be coming to invade our privacy and pry into our pain, all hoping for that front-page story. The banging continued, and Donna finally stepped to the window and pulled back the curtain. She turned back to us with a look of wide-eyed confusion.

“It’s Deacon Black and Deaconess Wright.”

My mother glanced at the bishop then at me. “It’s okay, Donna. They’re friends. Let them in.”

Donna opened the door and the visitors entered.

“Bishop,” Deacon Black said in greeting.

“Deacon, Deaconess.” The bishop nodded. “How can I help you two?”

“Bishop, I’m going to get right to the point,” Deacon Black said. “We just left an emergency meeting of the deacons board, at Reverend Reynolds’s request.”

“Reverend Reynolds called a meeting? Good.” The bishop’s face showed approval. He was probably expecting to hear that Reverend Reynolds wanted to discuss how the deacons could help their bishop, so I know he was taken aback when he heard the deacon’s next words.

“Well, I don’t know about that. He felt it was the obligation of the deacons board and its ministers to discuss today’s events, to discuss conduct he viewed as unbecoming of the pastor of our church.”

“Reynolds said this?” The bishop seemed wounded, and everyone else was shocked. We all thought Reverend Reynolds was his closest ally in the church. He was like family.

“He said that and a whole lot more,” Deaconess Wright added. “He asked the board to fire you.”

“What? They can’t do that,” my mother protested.

“No, they can’t, Charlene,” the bishop told her. “But only because the church bylaws say that a pastor can’t be fired without an open meeting of the board in which I myself and any member of the congregation are given a chance to speak on my behalf.”

The first lady sighed with relief. “Thank God.”

“But they can suspend you with pay until the next deacons board meeting. And that’s exactly what they did, Bishop.” Deacon Black frowned.

“That meeting’s not until next month. Who’s going to run the church until then?” my mother asked.

“That’s the main reason why the deaconess and I came over here, First Lady Wilson. To inform you and the bishop that Reverend Reynolds has been appointed acting pastor for now. And when it’s all over, I think he and his new wife plan to have both your jobs.”