Our parents put Essex out of the house when he was sixteen, then went on the news and said they would be fine with his execution after he was falsely accused of murdering his first wife. Needless to say, their relationship was irreparable in Essex’s eyes. From my understanding, Essex hadn’t been in the same vicinity as our parents since the night Victoria was murdered. Our parents tried to reach out to Essex after his name was cleared of all wrongdoing, but even that was motivated by my father’s desire to clean up his image after he was slandered online. I loved my brother and my parents, and remained neutral through all of their dissension, but I couldn’t handle any more. I understood why Essex remained on his side and far away from them and their church. That pulpit gave my father the space to be whoever he wanted to be while living a lie in private.
“Essex, what are you doing here?” I queried once he was out of his truck.
“I know you, Elise. As soon as they sent you away last night and then you decided to stay at that hotel instead of driving backhome, I knew why you were sticking around. I’m not here to step on whatever plans you have, but I’m here to silently support you,” he assured me with a firm hug.
I smiled; we knew each other too well. It meant the world to me that Essex would come to the church to support me. With my head held high, we walked towards the entrance. My adrenaline was pumping, but I had to have this moment. Since the day my parents caught me with Rashawn and then threatened to have me placed in a psychiatric hospital, we cut communication. They sent me a text informing me that I would be disowned if I didn’t come to my senses, plus revoked my access to all church accounts and administrative platforms. On the average day, I wasn’t as devious as I was feeling, but life had a way of bringing that side out of you.
We approached the entrance and were halfway inside when I heard my name in the distance. Faith rushed across the parking lot waving her hands in the air.
“You told her and not me?” Essex questioned.
“No, I didn’t tell anyone because I didn’t want to be discouraged,” I admitted.
“You thought Faith would discourage you?” He laughed.
“Maybe, she’s in therapy and seemed like a new woman last night,” I detailed.
Faith finally reached us, dressed in a pair of black slacks and a long sleeve blouse. “Good morning! So y’all came here to ruin the service too?” She chirped, sticking her tongue out.
“Ruin the service?” I blurted.
“Oh, you thought Faith was going to discourage you from confronting him?” Essex joked.
“Yeah, that’s not why y’all here?” She eyed us.
“No, I came for the service because I go to church every Sunday. Afterwards, I want to have a conversation,” I clarified my plans.
“MCHT!”
Faith folded her arms across her chest with her lips poked out, already playing the role of the bratty little sister. She’s always been the thorn in my side like a lot of little sisters.
“No, that’s weak. We gotta meet him where he’s at,” Faith argued.
“No, Faith. We are going to be better than him,” I affirmed.
“Fine,” she conceded. “Only because I’m outnumbered.”
I grabbed Faith’s hand, and we entered the church behind the sea of people. Essex’s tall frame and familiar face immediately garnered attention, and the whispering started. I ignored the attention and followed the flow of traffic until we claimed seats in the second to last pew on the left. Faith and Essex sat on opposite sides of me as the choir sang their hearts out. That would be the part I missed most once I permanently switched to Ms. Sasha’s church. My eyes landed on Mrs. Jean and Ms. Michelle while they sang and clapped up there. Mrs. Jean’s husband was on the piano, feet tapping and head bobbing without a care in the world.
A few minutes later, the choir stopped, and my father took to the pulpit. He delivered an enthusiastic opening and, coincidentally, set the theme of children being led astray. Faith nudged my shoulder, and I leaned over to whisper to her.
“He’s a real piece of work coming in here to preach about children being led astray after refusing to speak with me last night.”
There was something about sitting in that church after recent revelations that made everything feel authentic. My mind wasn’t focused on the sermon. I was too busy monitoring the jovial faces of everyone complicit in covering up Faith’s paternity. Then I heard a few lines that were seared into my brain. My father was regurgitating the sermon he delivered after they forced me to come home to repent after catching me withRashawn. The immense amount of guilt and shame that hovered over me that weekend was a feeling I’d never forget.
“As parents, we do our best, but sometimes children still choose to be led astray. Especially in today’s society. The devil comes in hot and digs his vise-like grip so deep that even your best efforts are futile. We have to ensure that these children understand early that the wicked will perish. You must spare the rod to save the child.”
My father suddenly paused, and his eyes doubled in size when they landed on Essex. His mouth slipped ajar, and his melodic voice halted before he quickly closed it. He removed the pocket square and gently tapped it on his forehead while quickly attempting to gather himself. It took him a few seconds to remove his gaze from Essex, and his chest heaved when he saw me and Faith seated next to him. His three children sitting together was a sight I’m sure he never thought he’d witness.
“Take yo’ time, pastor!” One of the parishioners shouted, raising her hand in the air.
“Yes… ummmm…” He stammered.
“What does the bible say about the parents who preach perfection when they are imperfect?” I shouted, climbing to my feet. Faith was right, we had to meet our father where he was.
“Yeah, what do they say about that, Pastor Hunter?” Faith yelped, climbing to her feet next to me.
My mother’s eyes doubled in size, confirming what I already knew. She was well aware of Faith and the affair. For as long as I could remember, she went along with everything my father said. Growing up, Essex would call her a bobble head because all she did was nod in agreement with our father. I didn’t have the same experience; our mother often had very vocal thoughts and opinions when it came to me and my life.
