13
Deandrea stepped out of the dressing room wearing the black skirt she’d taken off the store rack. “How does this look?” she asked Shante.
Deandrea twisted in front of the mirror to get a better look at the fit of the skirt. Shante shook her head. The skirt was entirely too tight. Deandrea sighed and walked into the dressing room.
Shante thought the Lord was sending Deandrea to help her. Instead, she needed help too. She couldn’t believe Deandrea had walked out on Jarrod. She seemed so quiet and meek when they first met. Once they got to know each other, Shante realized Deandrea was strong and confident. It was clear that everybody had a breaking point. Deandrea and Jarrod seemed so happy each time she saw them. No one would have ever guessed they were having problems.
They left the store and walked into the next one. There were a lot of nice preaching suits there. Deandrea pulled three suits off the rack and headed for the dressing room. Shante perused the racks of clothing, trying to find something that would look good on her friend.
“Oh my goodness, it’s Shante Patrick,” a lady screamed.
Not now, Lord. Shante painted on a smile and turned. The lady was staring her in the face. This was one of those moments when she wished no one knew her. She didn’t have any privacy. People who followed her ministry thought they knew her. Today, she only wanted to hang out with her friend, and here, someone had recognized her. She never complained about it. She loved the people she ministered to. But sometimes, she just wanted to be left alone.
After speaking with the lady briefly, Shante turned to see Dee wearing the tightest red suit she had ever seen. “I know you are not thinking of buying that suit.”
“It’s cut too small.”
“Is that what it is?”
They both laughed.
“Girl, take that suit off and let’s go to another store.”
Shante spotted a silver suit that she thought would fit Deandrea. She pulled one size larger than the one Deandrea said she wore and handed her the suit over the door. If it fit, she could wear it tonight.
“Excuse me. Are you Shante Patrick?” Shante heard another female voice ask.
Shante closed her eyes. Not again, she couldn’t help but think. She opened her eyes. “Yes, I am.”
“Hello. I’m Misha, Misha Taylor. I wanted to say thank you for a sermon you preached at The Rock of Life Church in Atlanta. It was like you were speaking directly to my situation, and it brought healing and I wanted to thank you for your obedience,” Misha said.
“Misha, it was God, not me. You’re from Atlanta?”
“I was born there. I live in D.C. now. Well, I don’t want to take up more of your time. I look forward to hearing you preach. Enjoy the conference.”
“Well, how do I look?” Deandrea bounced out of the dressing room turning as if she was a top model. The suit fit, but it was still the wrong suit. She stopped when she saw Shante and Misha standing side by side. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“No, that’s okay. I was just leaving,” Misha said.
Deandrea looked at Misha. “Do I know you?” she asked.
“You do look familiar.” Misha placed her hand on her chest. “My name is Misha Taylor.” She held out her hand to shake Deandrea’s.
“Misha . . . Misha . . . ” Deandrea repeated trying to remember how she knew Misha.
“Please forgive my friend,” Shante said. “This is Copastor Dee Fuller.”
“Fuller? Are you related to Pastor Jarrod Fuller, from South Carolina?” Misha asked.
“Yes, he’s my husband.”
“Now I know how I know you. It’s me . . . Misha . . . from Atlanta.”
Deandrea screamed and hugged Misha tightly. “I thought you looked familiar. How long has it been . . . two, three years?” Deandrea asked.
“Yes, it’s been about three years. How have you been?” Misha inquired.
Shante cleared her throat. Deandrea looked at her. “I’m sorry, Tay. This is Misha, my shopping buddy from Atlanta. We haven’t seen each other in a long time. See, God knew exactly what I needed. This girl should be a stylist.”
It had been three years since Misha first met Deandrea at a prayer breakfast in Atlanta. After that meeting, each time Deandrea came to Atlanta, they would get together and go shopping. They lost contact after Misha met Matthew.
“Wait a minute . . .” Deandrea looked at Misha. “Your name wasn’t Taylor, it was something else—”
“Holloway. I’ve gotten married since the last time we saw each other.”
Deandrea screamed again and hugged Misha even tighter. “Oh my goodness. That’s wonderful.”
“And I have a little girl. Her name is Courtney.”
“I have twins, a girl and boy.”
“Looks like you two have a lot to talk about. But right, now you need to get out of that suit, Dee.”
Dee looked at the suit she was wearing as if she had forgotten she was trying on clothes. “You’re right,” she said.
“I don’t mean to be crass, but I hope you are not going to buy that suit. The fit’s all wrong for your body. You have a beautiful figure. You should show it off,” Misha said to Deandrea.
Deandrea looked at Shante. “See, Tay, this is why I went shopping with her. This girl knows how to buy clothes.” She looked at Misha. “Do you have some time to go shopping with me? I have nothing to wear. I need something quick.”
“Well, I guess I could. I’m here for the conference and had planned to go to service tonight.”
“I think we can skip tonight,” Shante said. “Dee really needs your help.”
“Well, I guess it would be okay tonight.”
“Perfect,” Deandrea squealed and ran into the dressing room.
Misha looked through the racks of clothing with Shante following her. “I think this is the wrong store for Copastor,” she said.
“You and Dee shop a lot?” Shante asked.
Misha smiled. “No, only a couple of times. Her husband was in town preaching at my home church. We lost track of each other. I’m glad we reconnected.”
Shante watched Misha looking at the tailored suits. There was something about her that Shante could not put her finger on. Misha had a certain aura about her. She seemed very quiet and meek. She was certainly the opposite of Deandrea.
Deandrea finally joined the two, and they left the store. As they headed for another store, they passed the Christian book store. Deandrea spotted the display at the front that held Shante’s latest book. There was a group of ladies gathered flipping through the pages. Deandrea ran into the store toward the ladies. After she spoke to them, all the ladies looked toward Shante, who was standing outside the door. Deandrea motioned for Shante to come into the store. Shante put on her smile and walked toward them with Misha in tow.
The manager of the store quickly found a table and chair for Shante. Deandrea talked loudly as she organized the women into a line and acted as Shante’s assistant in her impromptu book signing. Shante signed books and took pictures until the display was almost empty. Gia would not like her doing this. Neither would Max.
“Let’s find something to eat. I’m starving,” Deandrea announced after the last lady left the store with her purchase.
Shante looked at her watch. It was not even six, and Deandrea was ready to eat again. It appeared she found her appetite in Philadelphia. She seemed more relaxed, smiling and humming. Taking a break was probably all she needed, Shante surmised about her friend. Shante knew how difficult it was working in a church and trying to maintain a happy home.
Shante and Dee had been in the mall for hours before Misha joined them. Shante had tried to get Deandrea to go into Lane Bryant or Ashley Stewart but Deandrea refused to admit she needed those stores. She had gained some weight since she had the twins. She wondered how Misha found it easy to get Deandrea to shop there.
Misha took Deandrea’s arm and pulled her into one of the plus-sized stores. Shante felt offended. Why didn’t Dee go in there when she suggested it? Deandrea protested, but Misha ignored her and went in anyway.
“You look like a sixteen. Here, try these on. Put this blouse with this skirt and this sweater with these jeans.” Misha handed the clothes to Dee and pushed her toward the dressing room.
“I tried to get her to come in here, but she wouldn’t go,” Shante said to Misha once Deandrea was out of earshot.
“That’s because you two are so close. Me, I’m, as she puts it, her ‘stylist,’” Misha laughed and continued looking through a table filled with folded slacks.
“You know, there’s something different about you,” Shante said.
“That’s what everybody says.”
“It is. I can tell you love the Lord.”
“I do. God has been so special in my life. My relationship with Him helped me through some tough times.”
“Ta-da!” Dee shouted when she emerged from the dressing room wearing the jeans and sweater. Misha and Shante looked at each other and smiled.
“See, Pastor, these jeans fit so much better. The wide leg slims you and gives your figure more of an hour-glass appearance.”
Deandrea twisted and turned in the full-length mirror on the wall. She rushed back into the dressing room to try on more clothing.
Finally, Dee had something to wear. She purchased four complete outfits from this store.
Shante felt the pangs of hunger. She decided to stop and get something to eat before she had another passing out spell. The trio headed for the food court. They ordered their food and took a seat away from the crowd.
Deandrea took over the conversation. She had some energy now. She told Misha how she got to Philadelphia. She was talking loud. She was around a lot of loud, country people in Snowhill and Shante felt Deandrea did not realize how much of their mannerisms had rubbed off on her. She laughed to think about how sophisticated and bourgeois Deandrea was. Now, she was beginning to blend right in with the country folk, and she didn’t even notice it.
“Well, Misha, is your husband a pastor?” Shante asked trying to enter the conversation. They seemed to have forgotten she was there.
“Yes, we have a new ministry in D.C.,” Misha replied. “It’s only a couple of years old. We’re growing though.”
“Are you the copastor?” Shante asked.
“No, only the first lady. I don’t sing or play the piano, teach or anything like that. From time to time, I will preach when Matthew’s away ministering elsewhere.”
“Well, girl, don’t let him pull you into being a copastor. You might end up in a mess like me.” Deandrea rolled her eyes. Then she took a bite out of her sandwich.
“Dee!” Shante could not believe what she just said. What was wrong with her? She didn’t mind sharing the most intimate details of her life with this lady? They weren’t real friends. They only went shopping a couple of times. They were going to have a long talk when they get back to the hotel room.
“I have to call my husband and check on my baby. I won’t be long.” Misha stood and walked away from the table.
“Dee, you should not have told that girl all your business,” Shante was quick to say.
“She’s okay. Look how God worked this thing out. She has a good eye for fashion. I found that out when we went shopping before. God knew I would need someone to help me pick out something to wear. Fooling with Jarrod, I look like an old country lady. I can’t believe I allowed myself to go down like that.”
Deandrea spewed bitterness and anger. Her pain was so deep. Shante was beginning to think Deandrea resented marrying Jarrod. She needed to be ministered to bad. It was a dangerous thing to have the combination of bitterness and anger. If one mixed that with loneliness, it was a deadly force that could lead to divorce, and Shante didn’t want that happening to them.
Misha returned to the table, and after eating, the three ladies continued their shopping. Deandrea was getting into high gear with her shopping mode when Shante’s cell phone rang. It was LaToya.
“Hi, LaToya . . .” Shante paused, listening to her assistant. She stopped her conversation and removed the phone from her ear. “Ladies, this is my assistant. This call is going to take awhile. Do you mind if I meet you back at the hotel? Dee, you have a key to the room. I’ll be there when you get finished. It was nice meeting you, Misha.”
Shante excused herself and completed her conversation before she reached the hotel lobby. She was tired and glad Deandrea had someone else to play with for a while.
Opening the door to her hotel room she felt lonely. She missed her sons and husband. She plopped down on the sofa and tapped Max’s cell phone number into her phone. “Hey, Max. I thought I would check in and see how you guys were doing.”
“We’re eating dinner,” he said flatly.
“At home?”
“No. We’re eating out tonight. How’s the conference?”
The conversation with Max sounded like a business conference. Since when did their conversations get so cold? He should have understood why she had to do this conference. She meant what she said that this one would be the last before she gave birth. She felt old, and this baby was already wearing her out. She wouldn’t be able to keep up her usual pace much longer.
The conversation with Max quickly ended. It left Shante feeling sad and alone. Deandrea should be back soon. She would want to talk when she got in. Shante had to prepare herself to minister. She was still Deandrea’s friend, and she loved her. Tonight, she would have to put aside her own problems to help her.