“Yes, Mama,” Elisia answered.
Vivian watched her rapidly growing daughter bounce up the stairs. Lord, please help her not grow up too soon. She lay down the mail, walked into the kitchen, and took marinating chicken breast fillets out of the refrigerator. After placing them in the oven and setting the other dinner preparations on the counter, she headed to her office and called Kansas City.
Tai picked up on the second ring. “I thought you said you’d call right back.”
“This is right back. I had to start dinner. So what’s up with Tootie being back in town? How long has it been, ten, fifteen years?”
Tai’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “Janeé, she goes by Janeé now.”
“Tootie is Ja-nay?” Sometimes an upset Tai was hard to follow.
“Yeah, I guess the name Tootie didn’t look so good in lights. Remember she moved to Germany, did some recording? She was pretty popular from what I hear, starred in musicals, recorded a couple albums. What was that one hit song of hers? ‘Heat’ or ‘Hot’ or something? Anyway, I haven’t heard anything about her in a minute….” Tai’s voice trailed off.
“So what is she doing back in Kansas City?”
“Her mother’s sick. In the back of my mind I just knew that would bring Tootie’s ass back here. I prayed it wouldn’t, but I just knew…”
Vivian was all too aware of how Tootie used to be Tai’s nemesis, continuing to see King while he and Tai were dating, and having an affair with him after they married. She remembered how relieved Tai had been when right after her second child, Princess, was born, Tootie moved from the Midwest, swearing never to return. But that was a long time ago. Everyone was older, wiser, and Tai and King’s marriage was on solid ground. Vivian wasn’t going to make a mountain out of a molehill.
“Okay, wait a minute, Tai. Why are we going here? Why are you making a big deal of this? Of course she’d come back to care for her mother.”
Vivian continued, determined to make Tai focus on what was really important. “You and King are back on track, tighter than ever. He loves you. He’s committed to you. So, Tootie’s back in town—Tootie, Janay, whatever her name is. So what? What has that got to do with you?”
“Everything. One of the first people she asked about was King. That’s how I found out she was back.”
“Well, good. He told you.”
“That’s the other thing. King didn’t tell me. Mama Max did.”
Vivian wished it had been King instead of his mother, but she still wasn’t going to help her friend trip.
“When did Mama Max tell you?”
“Earlier today. Sistah Stokes ran into Tootie at the store. Tootie asked about King. Sistah Stokes called Mama from Albertsons parking lot.” Sistah Stokes, a longtime church member, knew of King’s affair with Tootie and had believed a warning was warranted.
Vivian let out a chagrined breath. That’s how stuff got started. “You just found this out? So how do you even know King knows she’s back, Tai?”
A pause on the other end, and then, “I guess I don’t.”
“See? And you’re getting all worked up, letting your imagination take you where you shouldn’t want to go, over nothing.”
“You’re right. You’re absolutely right, Viv. I guess I’m still a little paranoid.”
“A little?” Vivian teased her friend.
“Okay,” Tai said, laughing. “Your sistah’s trippin’. But King’s past infidelities aren’t easy to forget.”
“Nobody says you have to. Just remember, the operative word in that sentence is past. We’re living in the now, and right now, you and King have never been better.”
The conversation drifted to other things until Vivian noticed the smell of teriyaki chicken floating under the office door. “Listen, I need to finish dinner. Call you later?”
“Sure. And Vivian?”
“Uh-huh?”
“Thanks.”
Vivian smiled, glad to hear the relief in Tai’s voice. “Don’t mention it, sistah. That’s what friends are for.”
5
Tootie Says Hi
Even though it was Saturday, the parking lot next to the main edifice of Mount Zion Progressive Baptist Church was almost full. Meetings, rehearsals, classes, and Sunday service preparations were in full swing. A slight flurry of snow began to fall as King navigated the suburban streets of Overland Park, Kansas. On one such street, the buildings of Mount Zion Progressive Baptist Church, its offices, youth center, and fellowship hall now took up the entire block. He eyed the surroundings dispassionately, critically evaluating size, layout. And even though they’d just finished a major one, he was considering possibilities for a greater expansion. The membership was growing in record numbers, and plans were on the drawing board for a preschool and private K–8 learning academy, within five years.
King consciously stopped that train of thought as he eased into the reserved spot directly in front of the door that led to his office. There would be plenty of time to consider those projects later. Presently, his focus was on the meeting with his new media staff, and the television broadcast that was being taped the next day. There had been much deliberation before King had decided to go on the air. He’d gotten requests for years, and had done a brief stint on the local cable channel several years back. But the Total Truth Association had linked up with MLM, a cutting-edge broadcast network based in Atlanta, which aggressively pursued a handful of ministers with progressive, contemporary messages to fill their Sunday morning time slots. It had taken several months to find and hire a media director, get the equipment in place, construct a production/media room for the actual taping of the services, and train volunteers to man the various cameras and production equipment. Today’s meeting would be about confirming that everything was in order to shoot tomorrow’s eleven A.M. services. The crew would later do a quick run-through while he moved on to a meeting with the deacons.
His assistant, Joseph, met him as soon as he stepped into his office. “Afternoon, boss.”
“Good afternoon, Joseph. You order this weather, brothah?”
“Hey, I’m from down south; I’m probably never going to get used to these Kansas winters.”
King placed his coat on the rack, took the scarf from around his neck, and placed it over the coat hook. He looked at the stack of phone messages centered neatly on his desk, next to the one-page report of scheduled activities and appointments that his multitasking, multicapable assistant provided daily. He sat down and began going through the messages. “Besides the media project, how’s it looking today?”
“I kept it light today, boss. Knew the television taping was the main focus. Darius made it in from LA. He and his band will be coming by later to do a sound check.” Darius Crenshaw and his gospel band, otherwise known as D & C, for Darius & Company,
