Church Affairs

by Theo Semper

Overview

Three ambitious young women—Jynene, Shivon, and Stephanie— are each struggling to hide a troubled past. Whether they meet purely by chance or by divine intervention, their lives become intertwined. They become friends, leaning on each other throughout their difficulties.

Handsome Pastor Robert Grant, assistant pastor at St. Luke United Church, is having an internal battle of his own about his calling to God and the perception that the Church is a “racket.” He is also struggling to understand the death of his brother.

When Jynene, who is a young mother, falls in love with Pastor Grant, she prays that her violent past, including a convict ex-boyfriend, does not unravel, taking with it her dreams of a perfect life. CHURCH AFFAIRS explores the timely issues of domestic violence, religion, and love against the backdrop of the church— and forbidden affairs.

Product Details

ISBN-13:	9781450247177
Publisher:	iUniverse, Incorporated
Publication date:	08/16/2010
Sold by:	Barnes & Noble
Format:	eBook
File size:	423 KB

Read an Excerpt

CHURCH AFFAIRS

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By THEO SEMPER

iUniverse, Inc.

Copyright © 2010 Theo Semper
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4502-4715-3

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Chapter One

Shivon was not oblivious to the rain that poured down on her, or to the puddles of water creating miniature pools on the sidewalk. She was not oblivious to the dozens of people around her dressed in their Sunday best, rushing from their cars and covered by oversized umbrellas and church hats. She was not oblivious to the idiot in the Cadillac Escalade rudely blowing his horn for her to hurry up and get out of the way so he could use the sidewalk as his personal parking spot. She was aware of it all. She just chose to ignore it.

"Crazy bitch!" she heard the idiot say.

It made her wonder how a person on his way to church could have such a foul mouth and cast such disparaging judgment on someone he knew absolutely nothing about. It only reinforced her views of church and religion. Church was just a place where Christians went each Sunday to absolve themselves of their sins of the week and Saturday night, specifically. Why else would inconsiderate idiots go to church? And why else would her boyfriend get up, get dressed, and go to church today after what happened earlier? They were just here for an easy way out of hell. All of them.

She ignored the idiot and took her sweet time crossing the driveway in front of the church, stepping in another puddle along the way. What did she care? She wasn't trying to be cute.

A drenched T-shirt clung to her body. Rain-soaked hair stuck to her face, obscuring her vision. She swiped the hair away from tear-filled eyes and touched the bruise beneath her right eye. It was still raw and painful as salty tears poured down her cheeks and were quickly washed away by the falling rain. She pulled her hand away and stuck it into her pocket, finding the objects in the oversized cargo pants. She fumbled with the handle of a flat-head screwdriver and a steak knife. She hoped she wouldn't have to use them, but knew she would if she had to. This confrontation was not going to be peaceful. Her anger demanded that she find Tony to confront him before forgiveness found her. She was going to make sure that he knew how she felt about the butt whooping she'd taken this morning if it meant using the items in her pocket to make the point. She had to do this for her mother, and for every woman who had ever felt pain at the hand of her man.

She looked around for Tony, slowly weaved her way around churchgoers, dodged umbrellas, and ignored staring eyes. She didn't know anyone here. She wasn't trying to. She merely looked past and around them for her boyfriend. Sanity demanded that she confront him now and purge it from her system before anger consumed her.

For the moment her anger prevailed.

"Damned light-skinned bastard," she said out loud and cursed all men under her breath.

She removed her hands from her pockets. Pulled her hair back from her face, allowing the rain to fall freely on her skin. Then she saw him. The champagne-colored Chevy SUV pulled into the parking lot on the north side of the church. Shivon's heart pounded against her chest as if it was trying to escape. Her feet turned to lead. She trembled viciously as she saw her boyfriend step out of the SUV, open her huge maroon and gold Bethune-Cookman College umbrella and swing the door shut. He looked so fly in his navy suit with black pinstripes, shoes shining brilliantly despite the rain. His handsome physique moved with a confident swagger. It was easy for her to understand why she was so sprung. That man was all kinds of fine.

Second thoughts crept into her mind momentarily. She watched him walk around the other side and open the passenger door. She watched him hold the umbrella to protect the woman who stepped out under the falling raindrops. Miss Thing stepped out with her skin-and- bones-in-a-dress-ass, as if she owned the truck and the man. As if she was the one who had to come up with the last two car payments.

Oh, hell no! I know I did not get my ass kicked for this skinny bitch! Shivon's hands tightened around the knife handle as she stepped towards her boyfriend and his skinny heifer. She was going to do them both, right there in the parking lot. No regrets. Tony was not going to hit another woman, and his heifer was not going to screw another woman's man. The rage exploded within her and erupted into a painful image from her childhood of her father staggering into their living room swinging at her mother. The smell of alcohol-laced aggression emanating from his pores was never more pungent, and never more present.

Shivon became suddenly oblivious to everything around her. Not even after another woman bumped into her, and her butt was planted firmly on the wet pavement did she realize what had happened. The woman was asking her if she was okay. Shivon ignored her. Her head turned on a swivel trying to locate Tony, not quite understanding her disorientation. Did she black out? She found herself scrambling to her feet. Tony and his skinny heifer were nowhere to be seen. Somewhere in the background, the woman kept asking her if she was okay. Who was she? Why didn't she get out of the way? Shivon cussed under her breath.

"Are you all right, Miss?" the tall, dark-skinned woman asked. Her dress was messed up by muddy water, but she didn't appear to be too concerned about it.

"Yes, I am fine," Shivon answered. "I am sorry about your dress." She allowed the woman to help her up.

"Oh, don't worry about it. I have a choir robe that will cover it up nicely."

"I'm sorry anyway." A combination of coldness and confusion had Shivon's body trembling like a southern Californian earthquake.

The woman noticed the bruises and asked what happened to her face. Shivon opened her mouth to tell the story of what happened to her this morning.

She never thought she would be the victim of domestic violence. Never expected to get her butt whooped by her own man. Until it actually happened. Tony woke her out of a dead sleep with a knock on the door. She picked up her iPhone to check the time: 4:12 in the morning. The clubs had been closed for at least two hours and she had expected him to show up by midnight. He knocked again. Shivon rolled out of bed, debating whether she should answer the door or take care of her pressing need to use the restroom.

She pulled on her Mickey Mouse T-shirt, went to the door first, and opened it. The stench of cognac blended with sweat greeted her before Tony did. He leaned against the side of the doorway for support.

"Hey, baby," he said. The words came out slow and slurred.

"You drunk," she responded and turned and left him at the door and headed to the bathroom to take care of her physiological needs. She slammed the bathroom door to let him know that she was upset. She waited up half of the night for him expecting to get sorted out. Now there was no chance that was going to happen, with Tony showing up stinking drunk and in no shape for sex.

From the bathroom she heard him fumbling around in the kitchen. She took care of her business and went to see what he was up to. He stood with his head in the refrigerator looking for a drink. He wore a fitted white shirt and black jeans, still well put together after hours of whatever he was out doing.

"You okay?" Shivon asked him.

"Yeah, just getting a drink. I'm thirsty."

"Where you been? I was expecting you hours ago." She closed and locked the door to her second-floor apartment. She then walked into the kitchen and moved him out of the way, took a box of juice from the fridge, and poured him a glass. She poured herself a glass as well.

"I told you, I was out with my friends having a drink." He swallowed a mouthful of juice. Leaned against the kitchen counter.

"You could have called. I waited up half the night for you."

"You said that already."

"That's all you have to say?"

He reached for her. Tried to pull her into him. She pulled away. That's when she noticed the stain on his shirt.

"Is that lipstick?"

"What?"

"On your shirt. Looks like make-up."

"And what if it is?"

Shivon looked at him in disbelief.

"If it is, I would like to know how you come to get make-up on your shirt. Were you with another woman tonight?"

Tony was defiant. He just stared past her and took another sip of his juice.

"I'm talking to you, Tony." Shivon raised her voice, but not too loud. The walls of her apartment were paper-thin and her neighbors were nosy as hell. She didn't need them in her business.

Tony ignored the question. Headed towards her bedroom.

She followed him. She needed answers. She needed him to tell her that he was not out creeping on her. She needed to know that he was being faithful to her. He was not only her boyfriend, but also the only friend she had in this town.

In the bedroom he sat on the king-sized sleigh bed. He smiled.

"What are you smiling for?" Shivon asked. "Answer my damn question."

She grabbed his shirt to inspect the make-up stain. The dark, red stain was on the collar and the shoulder of the white shirt. She smelled cheap perfume. She hadn't smelled it before because it was overpowered by the smell of alcohol. But now it was prominent. She knew it wasn't hers. She didn't wear that stuff.

He knocked her hand away from him and stood up to get away from her.

"Is that perfume I smell? Is this bitch marking you? She left her mark on your shirt, and she left her scent on you. What did she do, mark her territory?"

Shivon stood her ground. Prevented him from getting by.

"Maybe if you dress yourself up a little bit and wear some make-up and perfume once in a while, maybe you wouldn't be asking questions like that now."

"Kiss my ass, Tony!" She tossed the rest of her juice in his face.

Before she knew what had happened, she received a backhand slap to her face, twisting her head to the side. Her mouth fell open in disbelief. A sharp pain erupted beneath her right eye. Her ears rang. And the odor of alcohol invaded her nostrils even more.

"Don't talk to me like that!" Tony snapped. He swung at her again. This time his open hand connected with her mouth. She felt her lip bust open on the inside. The taste of copper filled her mouth as blood gushed from her lips. She swung back at him, but he grabbed her hands. She kicked at his feet trying to get away from him.

He tossed her backward and she crashed into the closet door. Tony owned some rage she'd never seen before. Her rage equaled his. She came towards him swinging and scratching. Yet again, she got the worst of the encounter as her face collided with his elbows. She spat red blood mixed with saliva on the hardwood bedroom floor. She screamed at the sight of her own blood. It both scared and infuriated her. She swung wildly at Tony.

"Get out!" she screamed. "Get out now!"

Tony held her in a bear hug. She couldn't move. Her face hurt. She was sure he had knocked a tooth loose. She was dizzy. Felt like she was about to pass out.

"Get off me!" she yelled. Slowly he complied.

Once free, Shivon spat in his face and ran to the bathroom and locked the door from the inside. She also locked the other door that opened to the living room in case he tried to come in that way. She looked at her face in the mirror. Her lips were swollen. She had a huge bruise beneath her right eye. All of her teeth were in place, but her face hurt like hell. She sat on the toilet and buried her face in a hand towel and cried.

She wished she had her phone so she could call for help. She would call the police and have them haul Tony off to jail before the sun came up. But she left it on her night table. So instead she sat there in disbelief, her face in an embroidered hand towel, wiping blood from the inside of her mouth. She could not believe that she just took a butt whooping from her man. For what?

He knocked softly on the bathroom door. She ignored it. Wiped the tears from her face with her hand. It hurt when she touched beneath her eye. She blew her nose with a decorative towel.

Tony jiggled the door handle, trying to get in.

"Von, are you okay?" he asked quietly.

Was he serious? After beating her like Manny Pacquiao, he was asking if she was okay.

"Von, baby, are you okay?" he asked again.

"Don't call me Von," she sobbed. It hurt when she spoke.

"Baby, I'm sorry I didn't mean to ... I didn't mean to hit you. I don't know where that came from. I'm sorry, baby. Are you okay?"

She wished he would go away. She wished her nosy neighbors would call the police.

"Just go away and leave me alone, Tony."

"I just want to know that you are okay."

"Of course I'm not okay. You just whooped my ass."

"I'm sorry. I am so sorry." He sounded contrite. He was almost begging for her forgiveness.

"I didn't mean to hit you," he continued. "But how could you accuse me of that kind of stuff? We've been together for what, two years? And you are accusing me of sleeping with someone else. You should know better than that. Why would you even bring up some dumb stuff like that? You know I've been faithful to you. But the one time I don't come when you want me to, you accuse me of going with someone else. Please open the door now, Shivon."

Contrition had walked away that quickly. Rage returned to replace it. She needed him to go. She needed to call someone. But she had no one to call. Her rock was on the other side of the door. Her confidant and "soul mate" just went left on her. She needed her rock, but now she needed him to get away from her.

"Shivon!" He called her name at the door. Then, she heard him walking to the other door that led to the living room. He jiggled that doorknob.

She used the opportunity to go to her bedroom to retrieve her phone. He returned to the bedroom and stopped at the door when he saw her face. His mouth fell open at the sight of his handiwork. His eyes asked if he did all of that.

"Get out or I'm calling the police," Shivon said.

Tony looked nervous. The thought of her calling the police seemed to sober him up.

"Okay, I'm leaving. Are you okay?"

"Was it another girl, Tony?" She stood on the other side of the bed with the phone in her hand ready to dial. It was her only weapon. Her only defense.

"I'm sorry," he muttered and turned to leave.

She picked up a shoe and tossed it at him. Struck him in the head. He grabbed the back of his head and turned and glared at her.

"I have to go to church anyway," he said as he stormed out the front door.

Shivon tossed another shoe at him, which hit the front door as it closed behind him. She secured the lock and inserted the security chain.

The morning sun hinted that it was about to show its face really soon as the dawn's early light penetrated the windows. Rain clouds seemed to be looming as well. What a way to start a new day. Shivon went to the bathroom and got a bottle of aspirin from the medicine cabinet. She did this without looking at her face. She was not ready to face her shame while it was still raw and fresh. She swallowed four aspirins with orange juice. Something to numb the pain. She contemplated calling the police and decided not to.

Instead she returned to her bedroom and curled up in the bed and cried for about three hours. Self-pity and shame were her comforters. They kept her paralyzed. Clouded her reasoning, made her take ownership of the blame for her own butt whooping. It must have been her fault. He didn't have any reason to beat her. She must have provoked it. She must have done something to deserve to be slapped around. Tony was a good man, how could she accuse him of cheating? He needed to knock some good sense back into her. That was the hold that self-pity and shame had on her. They were doing a number on her as she curled up with her pillow drowning out reason with tears of shame and pity.

She was not sure how long she was lying in the bed, but she needed to get up to use the restroom again. Nature called. This time she couldn't avoid the mirror.

She caught a case of "Oh, hell no!" when she saw her battered and swollen face. The face in the mirror was hers, but the face that came to her mind was not. It was a face from her past. Her mother's face. The woman whose husband regularly claimed to love her, and just as many times beat her, just for asking about those trifling heifers he had parading around in front of their house. That was not the part of her mother she wanted to see in herself. But at that moment, that was exactly what she saw in the mirror, and it was all she needed to shake loose the pity and shame. And if the face in the mirror was her mother's, then Tony was that bastard of a father who had eventually beaten all the good senses out of her mother, leaving her a shell of her former self.

(Continues...)

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Excerpted from CHURCH AFFAIRS by THEO SEMPER Copyright © 2010 by Theo Semper. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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