search for the remainder of her words. “But I’m not Daphne. Daphne is in the care of my mother back home in Florida.” She paused before she continued. “I’m Dawn. Dawn Carlton. Daphne’s twin sister.”
That was the last thing I heard before everything faded to black.
Chapter Three
Michelle
It must have taken all but three minutes for them to get me out of the main sanctuary and into the office where I was now resting on our plush leather couch. I could hear the uneasy chatter of the parishioners outside of the door as I was trying to will myself to open my eyes. I couldn’t shake the soft voice that kept reverberating in my mind.
When it finally registered that the soft voice I kept hearing in my mind belonged to Daphne . . . Dawn . . . or whoever she was, my eyes flung open, and I sat up as if I were being raised from the dead.
My head began to throb, and I quickly lay back down. Chanice and Twylah were at my side almost in an instant.
“First Lady, are you all right?” Chanice asked, her voiced laced with concern.
“Yes,” I mumbled. The truth was I was not all right. I was a perfect mixture of confusion and disgust. Just as it seemed that my life was starting to take a turn for the better, my worst nightmare seemed to be metamorphosing into a reality.
“Do you need us to get you anything?” Twylah asked with questioning eyes.
“No. Where is Pastor?” I asked. I needed to see my husband because I was sure that he could make me feel better. His positive spirit about everything was contagious.
Twylah and Chanice exchanged glances. “Um . . .” Chanice began, but didn’t finish.
The expression on their faces told me that they were having one of those moments, trying to determine whether they should tell me something.
I was all too familiar with that look. Since I had become pregnant, everyone’s concern around Mount Zion was making sure that I was not stressed or upset by anything.
Twylah, who knew me best, spoke first. “First Lady, Pastor asked us to let you know that he will be in here shortly.”
I rolled my eyes far into the heavens before landing them back on my two assistants, who were definitely avoiding something.
“Twylah, where exactly is Pastor?” And before she could answer, I continued. “And what exactly is he doing?” My tone was direct, and even if Chanice hadn’t learned yet, Twylah knew that it was in the best interests of them both to tell me before I switched out of my “first lady mode.”
Twylah cast her eyes to the floor before meeting my own. “He’s in his office talking to Dawn Carlton.”
I wanted to scream until I raised everyone out of the graveyard that flanked a portion of Mount Zion’s property. I could not believe that he would so much as entertain anything that woman had to say. I swung my legs over the side of the couch and began to scan the room for my shoes that had obviously been removed when they settled me down.
“First Lady, are you looking for something?” Chanice cautiously asked.
“Yes. I’m looking for my shoes.”
Chanice looked at Twylah as if I had spoken French. Her timidity sometimes aggravated me, and this was one of those times. “Chanice,” I tried to say as calmly as I could, “where are my shoes?”
Instead of answering with her mouth, she answered in one motion as she moved to the other side of the room. Instead of grabbing the shoes that I’d worn to church, she chose a pair of slippers that I kept at church in the event that the cost of beauty became too expensive, resulting in my swollen ankles.
She placed the slippers on, and no sooner than she could slide them on, I was standing. I smoothed the invisible wrinkles out of my blue jean skirt, and tried to shake away the pain that was piercing my head. I had no time to worry about my physical inabilities; I needed to get to my husband’s office.
I needed to have a few choice words with this Dawn Carlton person, and I needed to do it now. The
That was the last thing I heard before everything faded to black.
Chapter Three
Michelle
It must have taken all but three minutes for them to get me out of the main sanctuary and into the office where I was now resting on our plush leather couch. I could hear the uneasy chatter of the parishioners outside of the door as I was trying to will myself to open my eyes. I couldn’t shake the soft voice that kept reverberating in my mind.
When it finally registered that the soft voice I kept hearing in my mind belonged to Daphne . . . Dawn . . . or whoever she was, my eyes flung open, and I sat up as if I were being raised from the dead.
My head began to throb, and I quickly lay back down. Chanice and Twylah were at my side almost in an instant.
“First Lady, are you all right?” Chanice asked, her voiced laced with concern.
“Yes,” I mumbled. The truth was I was not all right. I was a perfect mixture of confusion and disgust. Just as it seemed that my life was starting to take a turn for the better, my worst nightmare seemed to be metamorphosing into a reality.
“Do you need us to get you anything?” Twylah asked with questioning eyes.
“No. Where is Pastor?” I asked. I needed to see my husband because I was sure that he could make me feel better. His positive spirit about everything was contagious.
Twylah and Chanice exchanged glances. “Um . . .” Chanice began, but didn’t finish.
The expression on their faces told me that they were having one of those moments, trying to determine whether they should tell me something.
I was all too familiar with that look. Since I had become pregnant, everyone’s concern around Mount Zion was making sure that I was not stressed or upset by anything.
Twylah, who knew me best, spoke first. “First Lady, Pastor asked us to let you know that he will be in here shortly.”
I rolled my eyes far into the heavens before landing them back on my two assistants, who were definitely avoiding something.
“Twylah, where exactly is Pastor?” And before she could answer, I continued. “And what exactly is he doing?” My tone was direct, and even if Chanice hadn’t learned yet, Twylah knew that it was in the best interests of them both to tell me before I switched out of my “first lady mode.”
Twylah cast her eyes to the floor before meeting my own. “He’s in his office talking to Dawn Carlton.”
I wanted to scream until I raised everyone out of the graveyard that flanked a portion of Mount Zion’s property. I could not believe that he would so much as entertain anything that woman had to say. I swung my legs over the side of the couch and began to scan the room for my shoes that had obviously been removed when they settled me down.
“First Lady, are you looking for something?” Chanice cautiously asked.
“Yes. I’m looking for my shoes.”
Chanice looked at Twylah as if I had spoken French. Her timidity sometimes aggravated me, and this was one of those times. “Chanice,” I tried to say as calmly as I could, “where are my shoes?”
Instead of answering with her mouth, she answered in one motion as she moved to the other side of the room. Instead of grabbing the shoes that I’d worn to church, she chose a pair of slippers that I kept at church in the event that the cost of beauty became too expensive, resulting in my swollen ankles.
She placed the slippers on, and no sooner than she could slide them on, I was standing. I smoothed the invisible wrinkles out of my blue jean skirt, and tried to shake away the pain that was piercing my head. I had no time to worry about my physical inabilities; I needed to get to my husband’s office.
I needed to have a few choice words with this Dawn Carlton person, and I needed to do it now. The
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