Chapter Twenty-two
“What’s with the long face? You act as if you’re not happy to see me, Kenya. Oops, I mean, Evangelist Kenya.” Charlene used her relaxed tone with her counterpart. “Do I look that bad?” She gave herself a once-over. Dusting invisible particles from her thick blue jean dress, Charlene stood at Kenya’s door waiting for an invite in.
Batting her eyes, not believing Charlene had the nerve to stand on her doorstep, all the anger Kenya wanted to throw the woman’s way wouldn’t leave her lips.
“Oh. Hi,” Kenya shooed from her mouth and opened her front door wider to allow Charlene in. Unexpected as it was, Kenya thought she would have to fight her demons with Charlene somewhere else in the world ... not in her very own city. Not in her very own home.
The two had been tag-team evangelists on their journey throughout the United States and beyond. Being the ones to render the sermons to the people, their own sins were brought into fruition by their giving the Word and not hearing the Word. On their year-long mission trip to Africa, it was always salvation the two women shared with the people. They preached on God’s love, His healing, and His coming soon. Both preached about how a relationship with God is imperative in order to see the Father. However, hardly, if ever, did they preach about lust, sex, or the sins of the flesh.
Kenya got caught up, as people usually say when the time comes and guilt was felt. At least that was what Kenya felt. She had been feeling guilty about her actions even thought she hadn’t seen it coming.
Being on the road for missions with her mentor, Evangelist Charlene Morrison, Kenya felt there was nothing she couldn’t share with her. Even about her dating life. With no immediate Boaz in each of their lives, they had always been one another’s dinner date, movie date, or any date for that matter, so there was no holding back when it came to talking about any and everything. In the end, Kenya realized she had been the one talking and Charlene had been the one listening ... plotting and scheming a way to push up on Kenya.
“Gul, who’s at the door?” Mother Gladstone asked as if it were her own home. Being left in the sunroom where Kenya was doing her hair, with plastic under her, around her, and on her, Mother mumbled about the curl rods being left in her hair too long. “Don’t you forget me in here, now!” she yelled out once more. Retrieving her glasses from her pocket, Mother Gladstone tried her best to get her eyes to focus on Charlene through the glass pane.
With the booming voice coming from the back, Charlene yielded in her tracks from the unwanted hug she was about to lay on Kenya.
Usually not in agreement with how Mother Gladstone used her elderly powers, at the very moment, Kenya was so happy she was present. Initially not wanting to do the older lady’s hair, Kenya was glad she had decided to do so after all.
“A friend, Mother,” Kenya yelled over her shoulder. Looking back at Charlene, Kenya said, “I’m rolling her hair.” She lowered her voice back to normal. “I didn’t know you were in town. You have a revival?” Kenya kept a skeptical look on her face, nervously wondering how Charlene had found her.
Kenya thought she had left Charlene and that part of her life behind. The look on Charlene’s face showed Kenya otherwise.
“No, girl. I missed you.” Charlene didn’t care to whisper. “I hadn’t talked to you and I was worried about you.” Charlene moved farther in the house, wondering if Kenya would ever shut the door.
“Oh. Well. I ... I missed you too, sis.” It was imperative to Kenya that she kept everything as if it were smooth sailing.
A tall, solid-built woman with the figure of a plus-sized model, Charlene closed the space between her and Kenya.
“You never called.” Charlene inched closer, towering over someone she had grown feelings for. “Maybe you can give me a touchup since I’m here.” Charlene grabbed her own hair, ready to see Kenya squirm. Looking beyond Kenya, Charlene glanced Mother Gladstone’s way before the older woman had a chance to turn her head from staring.
“Look, Charlene, you have to go,” Kenya snapped back, realizing she wasn’t going to allow the enemy to steal all she had been fighting for.
She had prayed and cried, rolled on the floor and called on the name of Jesus. Confused by her own actions, Kenya had wanted to know if a part of her wanted the same lifestyle Charlene had chosen. Kenya had wanted the Lord to show her just who she was.
“Am I gay? Do I like women? Is that what is really in me?” she had asked over and over. She had stared in the mirror for hours, wanting to figure out just who she was.
Days, weeks, months had gone by with her fighting to realize just what she had done with another woman—with Charlene, and how it had affected her psyche. Not to mention her spiritual life. A moment of lust, no matter if it was a woman or man, was wrong. Kenya hadn’t known why she had fallen into another woman’s arms when men were throwing themselves at her all the time.
Parts of her knew that living a saved life was a daily walk with Jesus. She was never in denial that she didn’t have feelings and that certain parts of her body didn’t jump when a fine specimen of a man walked by her wearing some cologne that wrapped around her nostrils. But she was adamant about saving herself for her godly chosen husband.
Kenya just knew she was not going to give up her thirty-something years as a virgin to a man just because she couldn’t control herself. But when Charlene had started talking sweet nothings in her ear, not being and staying prayed up for her own battles, Kenya talked herself into believing her virgin status would remain.
Just as Charlene was about to protest, Mother Gladstone called out to Kenya once more, all the while boring holes through Charlene from across the partitioned room.
“I’ll leave. But ... I came to town, just for you. I’ll be here for a while. We’ll definitely be in touch,” Charlene announced as she turned and walked out of the door, but not before waving Mother Gladstone’s way.
Attaching the lock as soon as she could, Kenya slammed her back against the door and tried to get her breathing on track.