The First Lady Read Online Free PDF Page A

Kelly out to dinner.”
    “Really, Momma?” I could hear the glee in her voice. “Are you serious?”
    “Yes, I’m serious, but I don’t want you to tell Dante because he’ll tell Donna. I don’t know how she’d feel about the idea of her father moving on so soon after her mother’s death. And you know since they’re Thomas Kelly’s kids, they may not think he’s ready.”
    “I know Dante doesn’t, but you know he was a momma’s boy anyway. Hey, Momma … ”
    “What is it, Tanisha?”
    “Do you … do you still love the bishop?”
    This time I hesitated before answering. “I never stopped loving him, baby. I just accepted that he loved someone else.”
    I swear I could hear Tanisha smile through the phone. “Do me a favor, Momma. Don’t ask the bishop to dinner until tomorrow night.”
    “Why?” I asked quickly.
    “Because I wanna send you some money so you can get your hair done and buy a new outfit. I’m so excited!”
    “Don’t get excited yet,” I cautioned. “I haven’t asked him, and he hasn’t said yes.”
    “He’s gonna say yes. Every time I talk to him, he always asks about you.”
    “Well, that’s good to know.”
    “Well, look, Momma, I gotta go. The baby’s crying. But I’m going down to Western Union to send you that money this evening, so make sure you call Nu-Tribe to make an appointment, and tell Niecy I said to hook you up.”
    I hung up the phone, then picked up the letter, reading it aloud one more time. When I finished, I called the hair salon and made an appointment with Tanisha’s girl, Niecy. After throwing something together for dinner and helping Aubrey with his homework, I took a long, hot shower, then climbed into bed, hoping that I’d dream of the future when I’d be the wife of Thomas Kelly Wilson. Charlene wouldn’t have to worry the least bit about me taking real good care of him. I owed him that much. Hell, I owed us both that much.

3
M ONIQUE
    “Mmm, mmm, mmm, girl, you look good,” I told myself as I stared in the full-length mirror hanging on the back of my bedroom door. I ran my hands down my very round hips, my freshly manicured nails raking over my charcoal-colored wool pants. I had scoured every shop on the Avenue to find a pair of wool slacks just the right shade of black to complement my favorite sweater that zipped up the neck, or rather down the cleavage, which is how I preferred to wear it. I knew other women, especially the women at church, hated me and talked about me because of my large, firm breasts and how I showed them off every chance I got, but the Lord had given them to me for a reason, so covering them up completely would be a sin. I glanced at the mirror one last time. I knew I liked what I saw staring back at me. I just hoped the bishop would like it too.
    It was still hard for me to believe that after all these years the bishop was actually coming to my house for Sunday dinner. And even more unbelievable was the fact that he was coming alone. Ever since the first lady died, he’d been traveling with an entourage of blockers who made it impossible for me to get any alone time with him, but tonight I was going to have him all to myself, in my house. Of course, he thought he was only coming over to discuss my proposal to open a Christian bookstore at the church. He had no idea that the other two members of my committee weren’t coming, because they didn’t exist. I know it was sneaky, but I got nervous with all the talk among the congregation that it was time to find the bishop a new wife. If he were going to have a new wife, it was going to be me. But those haters weren’t about to help me, so I had to help myself. If I were to get my way, this would only be the first of many candlelit dinners between me and Bishop T.K. Wilson.
    I took a deep breath, pulling in what little stomach I had. I couldn’t help but smile as my breasts and butt just seemed to look a little larger. Yes, the bishop was going to like what he saw