Church Gurlz - Book 1 (Mother's Black Book)

  With a huff, Doreen pushed open her car door and stood on the pavement. She snatched her bag haphazardly, causing her ‘infamous’ black book to plummet near her feet. Like a vulture going after a fresh carcass, she scooped down and scraped it up. She looked around in hopes that her actions had not called for an alarm. If anyone ever got a hold of her black book, she could forget about her precious Tea House and everything else that was dear to her. The content of the book was so sensitive that if exposed she would be immediately ushered into Maximum Security. Doreen was aware of the risk, but she could not imagine keeping her black book anywhere other than on her person.

  “Mrs. Lakatos!”

  Doreen practically took flight out of her caramel-colored skin. She spun around, almost losing her balance in her Marc Jacobs heels. When she recognized the person who’d nearly given her a heart attack, she became enraged.

  “You bumbling idiot!” She screamed at one of her Tea House employees. “Is it necessary to yell out my name that way? What the hell do you want?”

  The young man backed up a few steps and pointed toward the Tea House. If anyone had been standing next to him, he would have been mortified, having been talked to so harshly. “Two inspectors are here from the health department,” he told Doreen.

  With muscles pulled tautly in her face, Doreen glided forward and stormed through the entrance of the Tea House. Two burly-looking gentlemen, who looked as if they could be in their fifties, approached Doreen with an air of ‘rehearsed’ professionalism.

  “Are you the owner of this establishment?” one of them asked. His light brown suit looked as if had not seen an iron in months.

  Doreen folded her arms in defiance and responded viciously, “And, what if I am?”

  “It has been brought to our attention that the sanitary standards of this place have been comprised by rodents. The ventilation is inadequate and your bathrooms are being attacked by sulfuric compounds.”

  Doreen waved her hand wildly in the air and said to the men, even more viciously, if possible, “Take a good look around gentlemen! Then take a good, long look at me! I accept nothing short of excellence. Everything in here is Victorian-designed. Very expensive décor. I had recently gotten an inspection of this place and it was deemed safe and operable as far as the law is concerned! Who deceived you to come here and disrupt my flow of operation?”

  The men looked at each other, a little less confidence appearing in their visages. They did not expect to face a woman whose outspokenness outmatched their wit to respond. “Ah, several reports have been made against this place –”

  “Don’t stumble now,” Doreen spat. “Out with it! Who sent you bastards here?”

  The men continued to stumble in their reply. “We are here to enforce a safe environment…”

  “Get out of here before I call the police,” Doreen threatened, and when the men did not attempt to move, Doreen stomped her foot in anger. “I said to scram!”

  One of the men grew rigid, attempting to rise to the challenge. From time to time, health officials would experience this type of resistance and they had been thoroughly trained to stand their ground. “We are not going anywhere until we have meticulously investigated the complaints against this place,” he said. “So we suggest that you comply the easy way or we’ll turn this place upside down; you’ll think a tornado blew up in here.”

  Doreen did not take to threats too kindly, but she could sense that these fools were looking for a reason to embarrass her in front of her loyal patrons. However, no one toyed with Doreen Lakatos and got away with it. She stared those two burly men in the eyes to let them know that she was not intimidated by them.

  “You break it, you fix it!” She stormed off and left the health officials to question the frightened employees.

  ****

  As if on autopilot, Tara’s fingers glided over the small gash that Doreen had put into her forehead yesterday. It still throbbed with pain, but it was the least of her worries at the moment. She had accomplished a small victory. In comparison to what a life-long association with Doreen could bring, Tara knew this act of revenge would help remind her that there were other ways to get back at Doreen. She was not going to sit passively on the side and let Doreen disrespect her womanhood.

  A smile of enjoyment crept over Tara’s face. Payback was certainly sweet, even if it only lasted for a fleeting moment. With the help of a few friends, they had set a series of complaints in motion and had made the matter seem so urgent that the health department wasted no time sending out their agents to carry out a surprise investigation.

  The idea of rats ‘nibbling’ over the customer’s food would raise a concern to any decent habitué. Wynton might not have told Tara much about Doreen’s life, but she was sure glad that he had mentioned that his mother owned a Tea House. Tara wondered what other information she could pull out of Wynton that would assist her in Doreen’s demise.

  “Put the car in drive,” Tara instructed one of her girlfriends. “I’m done here. Doreen doesn’t know who she’s messing with.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Tampa International Airport, 2:11 p.m.

  By the time the aircraft had crawled to a stop on the tarmac, Jasmine was weeping loud enough to get the attention of the passengers sitting in front of her. She did not want their pity, so she kept her face toward the window until it was time to vacate the aircraft. Karl was already waiting in the baggage claim area. He knew that she would need a shoulder to cry on. And, after having spent twelve years away from Tampa, he knew that she could become overwhelmed by the unfamiliarity of her surroundings.

  Each time that Karl laid eyes on his daughter he saw more and more of his Hispanic heritage in her features. She had the fierce dark eyes and the smooth black hair, but even more prominent was the fire in her personality. He stood up in anticipation to greet her as she stepped off the escalator. In Compton, California where he’d grown up as a rebel in the early seventies, the Hispanics and the Blacks ruled the streets. It was notorious for several gangs, particularly those associated with the Bloods and the Crips.

  For a brief season, Karl had run with the Crips and had terrorized the citizens of his neighborhood. His mother eventually shipped him to Florida to live with his father, hoping the change in environment would modify Karl’s focus. Fortunately, it had not only modified his focus, but his entire life – to the point where Karl’s name in Florida now carried much fame and influence. Due to his positive outcome, Karl had taken the same action with his daughter.

  He did not regret sending Jasmine to New York – as he had been initially, because if she had stayed in Florida, where she had been born and raised, Karl was convinced her recalcitrant ways would have eventually caught up with her. He could not dismiss the sudden impression that maybe Jasmine’s past had a lot to do with them being so much alike. They craved the adventurous side of life. Now, as he looked her over as she walked toward him, he saw a woman who had finally taken charge of her purpose. Not even the pain of her mother’s death could spoil that image.

  Karl pulled his daughter into a tight embrace and whispered in her ear, “Hi Sweetie. I am so sorry that I had to tell you over the phone.”

  “What choice did you have?” Jasmine told her father. She eased away from Karl’s chest, adding in a voice clearly distraught, “Mummy did not give us any warning. Please take me to see her.”

  Karl could not stomach looking at the frozen cadaver of his wife, and he assumed that his daughter shared his sentiment. “Are you sure you can handle that?” he asked.

  “Yes. I need to see her – if only to convince myself that she is actually gone.”

  Karl placed a gentle hand on Jasmine’s shoulder and said as fatherly as possible, “Maybe later, Pumpkins. I don’t think now would be the right time. I prefer that you relax–”

  “Don’t.” Jasmine shrugged her father’s hand away. After all these years she was still not comfortable with Karl’s attempt at being affectionate. She hadn’t l
ied when she told Sharon that she had forgiven Karl for what he had done. She just needed time to adjust to the new dynamics in their relationship. The fact that Karl made little effort to visit her in New York proved they had a long way to go.

  “…you’ve had a long flight,” Karl was saying. “You need to take it easy.”

  “Daddy, really?” Jasmine spat. “I was on pins and needles on the way here and now you expect me to take it easy? How could you even suggest that?”

  “I’m worried how this all might affect you, Jasmine. Sharon’s body is in pretty bad shape. It doesn’t even look like your mother…”

  Jasmine fixed her stare on Karl in a way that plainly told Karl he was wasting his time. “I’m not going anywhere until you take me to see my mother,” she said. “Don’t worry about me; I will be fine.”

  “Well…” Karl said, as he walked ahead toward the carousel, “let me help you with your luggage.”

  ****

  Karl introduced Jasmine to Doctor Peter Abdul and then they both followed the doctor down a long corridor toward the morgue. Jasmine asked several obvious questions related to her mother’s death, but Doctor Abdul kept his answers succinct, being careful of how Karl would perceive his intentions. He did not want Karl to know that he had requested the court to have Sharon’s body autopsied.

  “Please, this way,” Peter said, motioning with his hands. A double door swung open before them and all of them entered. They stood before giant freezer doors that seemed to be about six feet tall. Peter offered Jasmine a warm smile as he tugged down on one of the door handles. “Again, please accept my condolence, Ms. Benton. Your mother was an incredible woman.”

  What an awkward time to say such a thing, Jasmine thought, but she did not catch the suspicious look that Karl had given the doctor. She was more aware of the buckling in her knees as she watched Peter roll out a metal bed. He removed a white sheet from what appeared to be her mother’s face. The angst that was stitched in Sharon’s cold visage took Jasmine completely for a spin. Her mother had turned two to three shades darker from that peanut butter complexion she’d maintained while she was alive. Jasmine gasped and her tears plummeted to the floor.

  “Mummy, look at you,” she sobbed quietly. “I just spoke to you a couple days ago. How did this happen? I told you to go and see a doctor, but you were so stubborn. You should have listened, Mummy, you should have listened…”

  Karl moved in behind his daughter and gingerly guided an arm around her waist. Out of the reservoir of his guilt, he said, “I did not know your mother was so ill. I thought she just wanted my attention. You know how your mother acts when she gets into those moods.”

  “Mummy had been trying to get your attention for years and you never gave it to her! Look where it has gotten her!”

  “Pumpkins, that is not fair –”

  Jasmine swatted her father’s hand away from her waist. “Mummy is dead! Not you! How can you stand there and talk to me about being fair?”

  Karl blinked back his astonishment and tried to swallow what his daughter had just said. He was sure she did not mean it the way it came out. Nevertheless, her words stung him hard. “We should not discuss this here,” he tried. “This is the reason why I suggested that you not come here. You’re not ready for this.” Karl began to tug lightly at her arm. “Let me take you home –”

  “Daddy, just go and leave me alone!” Jasmine jerked away from Karl and walked around to the other side of the metal gurney. “I want to be here with my mother.”

  “Pumpkins –”

  “You should wait outside, Mr. Benton,” Peter said, interrupting as politely as he could. “Don’t worry. I will bring your daughter back to you in a few minutes.”

  Karl did not trust the doctor alone with his daughter, but with Jasmine so infuriated with him at the moment, it was not prudent to stay in her presence. “If she’s not out in a few minutes, I’m coming back in,” he warned. “I want her away from this place as soon as possible.”

  Strange you should say that, Peter thought but said aloud, “Yes, I understand. I will do my best to comfort your daughter.”

  “I did not ask you to comfort her,” Karl barked. “Do as you were told. Bring her out in a few minutes.”

  Karl burst through the double doors, not caring how they slapped against the wall.

  Chapter Fourteen

  8:22 p.m.

  Hello, Brian, please answer my text…I want to start over, now that the truth is out in the open. I was only kidding – you don’t have to marry a blind invalid like me. I just want us to be friends. Coming from the Christian perspective, is that really too much to ask? Don’t let months of confiding in each other go down the drain…

  Brian must have read Marcia’s message a dozen times that night and the only thing he couldn’t get out of his mind was how in the world she was able to type and text such an organized paragraph to his phone. He’d never heard of a blind person having such unusual capabilities. However, once he’d gotten over the initial shock, reality began to kick in. This is the woman who deceived me at the restaurant.

  He thought it was extremely low of her to play the ‘Christian’ card on his emotions. It did not matter if she had been joking about the marriage thing; Brian simply could not see himself with a woman who had not been up front with him about such a serious condition. There was no telling what other secrets she had stashed away in her tank of ideas.

  Yet, Brian could not shake Marcia from his thoughts. He knew he had wounded her with his words, and had probably shattered what was left of her self-esteem, but he could not find a justifiable reason to apologize. Well, his Christian background would argue differently, but as a man who had been completely honest about his identity, and had even shared a few intimate details of his life, he strongly felt that Marcia got exactly what she deserved.

  Maybe that was the reason men had taken advantage of her and had slept with her as a form of revenge. That was a sad way to live, but Marcia was not his problem. God had not called him to be her knight in shining armor. He was certain, beyond any reasonable doubt, that marrying a blind woman was not what God wanted for his life. He wished Marcia God’s blessing, along with a prayer that would shove her in the right direction.

  Brian soon shifted his thoughts to the next order of business. He had promised Wynton that he would corner Doreen and try to convince her to take a four-day trip to the Bahamas with Tara. And, he had been geared up to do it. He just hadn’t anticipated Doreen coming home in a sulky mood. Even now, as he sat up against the headboard, attempting to read his Bible, he could hear snippets of his parents’ voices echoing through the house. He would have ignored it – as he usually did when they fought, however, the gravity he detected in his father’s voice was enough to make him close the Bible. He got up and cracked open his bedroom door. The noise level went from almost zero to ear-splitting.

  “…how do you know that it was Tara who flattened your tire?” his father was asking. “You would blame that poor child for blowing up the World Trade Center if you could. This is not the time to be spiteful. Did you know that Karl lost his wife last night?”

  Doreen did not have a flat tire. She only used that as an excuse to express her anger to Paul over what had happened at the Tea House that afternoon. And, because Paul did not know about the Tea House, she could not reveal her suspicion that it was Tara who had sent those health officials to her place.

  “I will make that black hyena pay. If it’s the last thing that I accomplish–”

  Paul slapped his hands together and yelled bitterly, “Doreen, did you hear what I just told you? Sharon is dead! Where the bloody hell is your heart?”

  “What do you want me to do, Paul? I have not spoken to the woman in years.”

  “My God, you are cruel…”

  “She called our son a rapist!”

  “You’ve been holding on to a grudge for twelve years?” Paul threw his hands up in astonishment. “Unbelievable! Sharon died knowing you hate
her. What kind of Christian example is that for a First Lady?”

  “Don’t you toss that sanctimonious garbage at me!” Doreen thundered. She fell in line with her husband’s quick gait, who appeared to be making his escape through the front door. “You knew from day one that I did not want you to open up that church. I begged you not to; nonetheless you went against my wishes and wasted our savings on your frivolous impulses –”

  “Your wishes?” Paul interrupted, but kept his stride moving forward, unable to get over the shock of Doreen’s indifference. He looked at her sideways and said, “Who the hell died and made you Queen over Britain? You are nothing but a disrespectful, obnoxious beast!”

  Doreen gasped at her husband’s outburst. Hardly anything Paul said hurt her, but tonight it felt as if Paul was winning the fight. She shot back, trying to regain control of her authority. “No, Paul, you are the beast! You are the green ogre in this marriage…” She grabbed at him like a ticked-off pit-bull, almost toppling over onto Paul’s feet. “Where are you going at this hour?”

  “Get away from me, woman!”

  Doreen struggled to hold on to Paul’s jacket, but his movements were too swift. In anger, a torrent of foul words flew out of her mouth.

  “Paul, you get back here this instant!” she screamed. “Did you hear me, you old, feeble man? Get back here!”

  Paul jumped behind the wheel of his car, but he had one last thing to spit at his wife. “One day, Doreen, you will pray for death, but it will elude you like an infectious disease. You’ve caused Karl and his family enough pain to last a lifetime. I feel sorry for you when that day arrives.”