The Devil Made Me Do It Page 7

  Briggs broke away first, stepping back and putting space between them. His grin was “little boy getting his first puppy” wide. “Now, that was better,” he said. “I couldn’t let you leave without us making a real connection. God is so good. I knew you were from Detroit, but I never imagined running into you. Not in a city this big.”

  Esther pulled herself together. “I’m just as surprised to see you. In all of our talks, I don’t remember the ministry being one of your dreams.”

  “You remember I was all about the money? ‘Brother gotta get paid,’” Briggs folded his arms and cocked his head to the side in hip-hop fashion imitating the old him. He then gave a self-depreciating grin. “Yes, God had a plan even if I didn’t know about it. I went through some things, and God showed up and showed me mercy. Being brought up in the Word helped me to return to it for my protection. Now, I’m all about saving souls for Christ. What about you?”

  “I know you remember me dropping out of school my junior year. I just couldn’t pull it together,” Esther leaned against her car door self-consciously with her arms and legs crossed.

  “I remember,” Briggs nodded for her to continue.

  “I came home and bummed around for a while. I was so angry with everyone, including God, but especially myself. I was pretty self-serving in those days. It was all about me. What happened with Sheri woke me up.”

  “Go on,” he encouraged, his voice soft and sympathetic.

  Esther smiled remembering that they always could talk to each other. “I found out I was becoming my own worst enemy, snapping at everyone, feeling miserable and empty. I woke up one day, and I was sick of myself. So, I decided to change. To fix myself . . .”

  Briggs burst out laughing. “Yeah, that sounds like you. Ms. Determined. When did you find out you couldn’t fix you?”

  Esther smirked. “Not right off the bat. I started with the obvious outside things. I went back to school, changed my hair color, fixed up my apartment, and started getting out again. But I was still dissatisfied. At first all my projects kept me busy, but then I was close to graduating and the emptiness started creeping back in. Yes, I was in church, but the church wasn’t in me. Finally, I ended up getting married.”

  “You’re married?” Briggs frowned, then caught himself and straightened his face.

  “No, it didn’t last. Marriage didn’t fix it either. It was an unhappy time in my life. I was so depressed that I sought for answers to my problems in the Bible. Over a period of time, learning the Word changed my thinking, and that changed my life. Things didn’t get better overnight, but they did get better,” Esther sighed.

  “You do have a testimony, don’t you, Esther? I always say few of us come to Him because everything is perfect in our lives. We are troubled, in pain, and then we find out He is the answer.” He paused not wanting to give a mini sermon. “Hey, how’s my girl Deborah?”

  “I have no idea. When she first left school I didn’t even know where she was headed. Later, her mother shared that she had moved to Atlanta. After many attempts on my part to keep in touch, I finally gave up. I sometimes feel like the amputee who lost her limbs.” Esther took her right arm and demonstrated by wrapping it around her body. “First, Sheri; right limb gone.” She then wrapped her other arm around her. “Then Deborah; left limb gone. We were sisters for so long. Who do I reach out to now?” Esther asked, lost in her aged grief.

  Speechless, Briggs stepped forward and touched her arm. He empathized with her journey.

  Esther felt a tingle and rubbed her arm when Briggs touched her. She stepped back and fumbled with the car door. “I need to go. Reverend Gregory would like us to meet tomorrow. I’ll see you then.” Flustered, she slipped on her shades and seat belt.

  Esther began backing out when she noticed that Briggs rubbed his chest absently. She fantasized that he felt the tingle too. Her musing caused her to gun the motor and screech out of the lot. She had had too many daydreams lately.

  “Leader, you’re so diabolical. I can see where you’re going with this,” lisped the imp. “It’s so exciting. I forgot the devastation you brought to those three friends. When you separate, you defeat. I know what you’ll do next will be da bomb. Boom!”

  “Fool, calm down. This is not your party. You don’t know a thing. I’m the orchestrator. You just run with what I give you. I am deeper than any ocean, wider than any sea. I am the be all, to end all. I have plans for these two—lovely plans. Plans of evil and not of good,” The Leader boasted as his tail stood up in orgasmic delight.

  The imp slinked onto his belly and slithered through the ashes in the blistering heat. He was not wanted; The Leader was content with his party of one.

  Chapter Eight

  Esther slowed down and hit three on her cell. “Phyllis, I’m in your driveway. Please open up.”

  Phyllis played her music loud. Esther learned to call ahead and cut out the bother of knocking and not being heard.

  The front door swung open, and Phyllis looked chic in a designer sweat suit with her hair hanging in a smooth ponytail. Her skin was flawless, her thick eyebrows arched to perfection. Her large doe eyes were her best feature, and she and Esther shared the same cinnamon skin tone. She worked out daily to maintain her size ten figure.

  “Outta my way,” Esther cried as she ran past Phyllis down the hallway to the closest bathroom.

  “Goodness! Just like when you were a kid. You were always waiting until the last minute. It would have served you right if I had waited to open the door,” Phyllis called out to Esther through the bathroom door.

  “Whatever,” she shouted. “Please, get away from the door. Dang, Phyllis.”

  Phyllis chuckled and went into her family room. As she turned off her stereo, Esther slinked in. “Girl, I hope you haven’t been anywhere else besides my house because you look a hot mess.”

  “Please don’t tell me that, Phyllis. Do I really look bad?” Esther was embarrassed.

  “Yes, child, look like you stank. What were you thinking wearing that old droopy jogging suit, and when are you due for a touch-up on your hair?” Phyllis grabbed Esther’s hat off her head.

  Esther was mortified even more about running into Briggs. “Ummm . . . I did run by the church.”

  “No, you didn’t! Looking like that?” Phyllis circled Esther.

  Esther stuttered. “I was only supposed to be there for a minute but—”

  “You didn’t see anybody but Reverend, did you?”

  Red crept up Esther’s neck. “Uh, I saw Naomi.”

  “Well, that’s okay because Naomi has no fashion sense, and Reverend loves us so much I don’t think he notices what we wear.”

  “ . . . And . . .” Esther said, drawing the word out slowly.

  “. . . And . . .?” asked Phyllis just as slow.

  “The new interim pastor,” Esther finished quickly. Her entire face and neck were flushed.

  “What?” Phyllis stood back and cataloged her sister. Esther looked back at her with a deadpan expression on her face. Their eyes caught each other’s, and they squealed with laughter.

  When Phyllis stopped holding her stomach, she wiped her eyes and said, “Girl, hand me that phone. While you prepare to tell me all about it, I’m calling Ki Ki’s to get you a hair appointment.”

  Esther handed the phone to her sister and plopped down on her sofa. She decided right then not to share with Phyllis her and Briggs’s past.

  Thank God, back in the day, I never told her my business, Esther thought. Sometimes, it was easier to keep things to herself than hear a lecture from her big sister.

  Phyllis hung up the phone. “Okay, you have a three o’clock appointment. I might as well ride along, and get Cathy to do my nails. We have an hour. Let’s eat, and you can tell me all about our new pastor,” Phyllis said as she headed to her kitchen.

  During their drive, Esther and Phyllis talked all the way to the salon. Phyllis tried to get the scoop on Mother Reed and Esther’s Sunday conversation, but Es
ther still avoided answering. Mostly, because Phyllis was too nosy. Soon, they arrived and entered the upscale beauty salon and day spa.

  Three hours later, Esther admired her hair as she shook it back and forth in the mirror. She had splurged and had golden highlights added to her rich brown hair. Her edges were smooth, and she could see the shimmer from her hair’s glossiness reflected in the beautician’s mirror.

  Phyllis joked, “Well, now I know that the new pastor is fine.”

  “Excuse me?” Esther said; then she tripped over the foot railing of the salon chair.

  Phyllis waved her freshly colored nails at Esther as she paid for her hair and they left the shop. “You do know your clumsiness is a dead giveaway, you’re nervous or excited?”

  Esther kept looking straight-ahead, hoping Phyllis would be quiet.

  “As a matter of fact, I take back my earlier statement. The new pastor must be supa fine. You even had highlights placed in your hair. When’s the last time you did that? Girl, how old is this man?”

  Esther stopped walking in frustration. “Sis, it was your idea for me to get my hair done.”

  “No, I said you needed a relaxer, but you chose to have the works. So, is he fine?”

  “Bye, Phyllis, I’m going home now. I’ll talk to you later,” Esther raced to her car.

  Phyllis stopped in the middle of the parking lot, and started laughing. “Now I know you’re tripping. He must be finger-lickin’ chicken, good looking. You’re all flustered and losing your mind to boot,” Phyllis hooted.

  “Losing my mind? Girl, please. You’re the one who’s nuts.” Esther opened her car door.

  Phyllis swiftly intercepted and placed her hand on top of her sister’s, stopping her from leaving. “Because . . . I rode here with you. Remember?” Phyllis sang smugly.

  Esther’s mouth fell open. “Get in and not one more word, Phyllis. I mean it. You say one thing, and it better be the word cab,” Esther snarled.

  Phyllis got inside, closed the door, folded her arms, and grinned. “I’ve been trying to get you to up your game for a minute. And it’s always, ‘No, I’m too busy for all that nonsense.’ Now, all of a sudden, you ready to put some—‘Ooh, baby, baby’ back in your style. Girl, it’s about time.”

  Esther threw up her hand and sliced the air for Phyllis to be quiet.

  “I’m just saying, that’s all . . .” Phyllis whispered as she smiled and looked out the window.

  Chapter Nine

  Esther glanced down at her watch and shut down her computer. She then checked her appearance in her compact mirror. Not wanting to be late, she left her office with time to spare. “I’m leaving for a lunch meeting, Simone.”

  Simone looked up and smiled. “Yes, ma’am. By the way, I love the new hairdo.”

  “Thanks, me too,” Esther grinned and patted her hair.

  “Well, you do look good. That deep chocolate suit is banging on you, and the color brings out the golden tones in your skin.” Simone continued to catalogue her wardrobe. “The jacket is too cute, the three-quarter sleeves are different. Yes, there’s pizzazz in this new look. Someone is a lucky man this lunch hour,” Simone said being obvious in her attempt to get into Esther’s business.

  “Okay, now you’re dipping,” Esther joked.

  Simone was a serial dater, and she thought that was the only way to live. Esther had caught her on more than one occasion listening in on Esther’s male phone calls, always hoping to hear some gossip. Simone was always disappointed.

  Simone knew that Esther disliked her borderline ghetto fabulous ways. But, Esther knew that Simone had her back, and there was no one more loyal. She was also a good worker. So, she didn’t sweat the little things about Simone that irritated her.

  “While you’re all up in my business, Simone, you probably have your own plans for this evening.”

  “Oh yes, I do.... I’m gon’ be all holed up with this good-looking, chocolate fountain of Almond Joy. Yes Ma’am, I plan to sweat my hair out,” Simone said while snapping her fingers.

  “Okay, Sweetie, that was way too much information. This is still a business, and I’m still your boss. Hold that kind of talk down. I definitely have to get back to praying for you.”

  Esther headed out of the building, waving at her coworkers along the way. She was looking forward to lunch, and if given the chance, digging into Briggs’s post college life.

  The restaurant valet opened an anxious Esther’s door. She swung her body to get out of the car, stretched out her leg, caught her boot heel in the bottom of her skirt, and literally fell out. Strong male hands caught her before she could land on the pavement.

  “Gotcha,” Briggs chuckled.

  Esther’s face burned with embarrassment. “Hello, Briggs. I guess some things never change,” she said as she tugged at her skirt to straighten it and pulled down her jacket.

  Briggs was a gentleman, and he didn’t answer. Esther imagined he remembered how she would always fall, stumble, or bump into something when she was excited or nervous.

  Entering the restaurant, she wondered what Briggs was thinking. He had become quiet and contemplative. “So, Briggs, seems you keep catching me at my best,” Esther prodded, seeking some direction of his thoughts.

  “Anytime I see you it’s good.” Briggs grasped her by the elbow to guide her into the restaurant.

  At the tingle of skin on skin contact, they both went motionless. “Was that an electric shock from the carpet?” Briggs asked.

  Esther shrugged and took off into the dim restaurant. Soulful jazz played in the background of the Chop House. The coziness of the surroundings invited patrons to sit down and relax. The hostess greeted them, and Briggs gave her Reverend Gregory’s name.

  “Your party is waiting for you. It would be my pleasure to show you to your table,” the hostess said, her entire demeanor focused on Briggs.

  Esther’s eyes shot daggers at her. She spoke low, between gritted teeth and stiff lips, hoping the woman heard her. “He’s a man of the cloth. Pull your claws in before lightning strikes you, Delilah.”

  Briggs looked startled and coughed into his hand. Esther turned to him innocently with a question on her face, and Briggs grinned.

  The hostess, ignoring Esther, swayed her hips in tune to her own inner rhythm as she led them to their table. Her emerald eyes twinkled like the hills of Ireland they reigned from as they remained focused on Briggs. “The Chop House hopes you have a wonderful lunch. My name is Maura, if you need anything. Please let me know.” As she stressed the word please, she winked at Briggs, bending cleavage level to hand him his menu. “We do aim to please. Your waiter will be here shortly.”

  Briggs gave another short cough. “Thank you, Maura. I’m sure we will enjoy it.”

  Reverend Gregory shook hands with Briggs, and then reached forward and hugged Esther.

  The reverend witnessed the hostess’s antics and mopped his brow. “I tell you, Briggs, the way you have with women is something else. As a man of God, you must be careful about the attention women will want to give you. Even us older pastors have women who forget we are just men.”

  “Amen,” Esther said. She then turned crimson. The man is kryptonite, and like Superwoman, a sista getting a little weak. Esther fanned her face with her menu.

  Briggs unfolded and slid his napkin onto his lap. “Sometimes people just need to be noticed to make their day. I was only being cordial, but, Reverend, thanks for looking out for my welfare.”

  “So . . .” Esther said opening the menu, “how would you like to start off? Would you like to review the church’s special projects first?” She felt rebuked for some reason after Reverend Gregory’s comments and her slip of the tongue. She wanted to get right down to business.

  “I’m in both of your capable hands,” Briggs said.

  “Esther, why don’t we start with the church’s community development project?” Reverend Gregory began.

  Esther leaned forward with enthusiasm and used her hands to ges
ture as she spoke. “Around four years ago, a member approached our Daughters of the Vine group concerning furniture for her child’s bedroom. She was a young mother and little Ricky had outgrown his crib.” Esther paused to catch her breath. Talking about the church’s program ignited her passion for helping others. “Our group believes that scripture speaks to us as Christians to do more than pray for our brethren. Jesus asks that we feed the hungry, clothe the naked, and house the homeless.” Esther took a deep breath and chuckled. “Sorry, I can get a little carried away.”

  The waiter approached their table and took their orders.

  “Please go on,” Briggs said.

  Reverend Gregory beamed at Esther. “I’m enjoying the retelling of it!”

  “When I went out to Tracy’s apartment I was appalled. There were holes in the walls, windows painted shut, and some were broken. Tracy had used plastic to cover them, but the apartment was still full of flies. On top of everything, the neighborhood was unsafe, with vagrants hanging in the hallways and on the street. The front door was flimsy, off alignment, and wouldn’t close properly. Tracy had to put a chair underneath the doorknob each night, and she prayed that nobody barged in.”

  “What about the landlord?” Briggs asked with indignation.

  “If you could find him, he made promises that were never kept. Tracy, and most people like her, didn’t know how or who to complain to. Poverty is just as much about the lack of resources as money. Tracy only earns minimum wage.”

  “Family support?”

  “We are her family. Her grandmother was a faithful member before her death. Now we stand in the gap. Tracy was the church’s inspiration,” Reverend Gregory said.

  Esther nodded in agreement. “When I returned to church, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something more needed to be done. I wondered what good would a new bed for a child do in those conditions. Tracy didn’t even have a bed. She was sleeping on a worn-out couch. I wanted to do more than just complain, and so did the other members. We prayed about the situation, and a door opened.” Esther looked up and paused as a waiter placed their entrées before them.