Sex in the Sanctuary by Lutishia Lovely Page B

front row, center,” Timothy proclaimed, as if there were any doubt as to where he as a child of the church’s first family would sit on such a night.
    “And that’s not all,” King continued as he stabbed a large chunk of lettuce, then a tomato and finally a piece of broccoli onto his fork and stuffed it in his mouth. “You guys remember that CD I brought home last week, the group that sounds a lot like Destiny’s Child called Yadah?” And then to Tai, “This is good, baby.”
    “Don’t tell me they’re gonna be there,” Princess moaned, all too aware of the female competition, even though those girls were almost out of high school and one was in her freshman year of college. “Mom, now I need to get two new outfits! Mom! Are you listening to me?”
    Tai nodded in the affirmative, but in fact, she hadn’t been listening. She’d been trying to reconcile her feelings of anger with the ones of happiness that were swirling around the table. Was she really just being paranoid and horribly unfair to this Hope girl? Her children obviously adored Hope, as did those in the youth and young adult groups she directed. Sistah Stokes had voiced some concerns when Hope first came to the church, but that may have been in part because Sistah Stokes remembered King’s old flame Tootie and her cat suits. And how could King just sit there and go on and on about his love interest, or should she say lust interest, right in front of her and the children like that? Was she being paranoid? And if so, why couldn’t she shake this feeling of doom that rested in the pit of her stomach, low and heavy like tonight’s lasagna?
    Tai continued to ruminate on these thoughts as she prepared for bed that evening. King had already showered and was in his office downstairs. Princess had cleaned the kitchen and was talking on the phone, her favorite pastime, and the twins were playing a video game. She sprayed on a generous amount of jasmine-scented body mist and sat on the commode seat, rubbing baby oil on her heels and toes. She tried to remember exactly when this feeling of imminent doom came to pay her a visit, like an unwelcome distant cousin, and refused to leave. She reached for her cotton nightgown hanging on the bathroom door, then opted for her black, floor-length negligee instead. What was she doing? Was she actually going to try and seduce her husband, a man she felt sure was cheating on her? And maybe with the youth’s assistant director no less?
    Tai carried the bottle of jasmine water from the bathroom to the bed and, pulling back the sheets, sprayed a liberal amount on them, including the pillows. She hit the nozzle a few more times as she turned the bottle once more on herself, one on both temple points, between the breasts and a quick hit between the legs before recapping the bottle and setting it on the table beside her. She reached behind her to the bed’s headboard, turned on the radio and her favorite station, Oldies 91.5. Barry White’s voice reached out seductively and promised Tai he couldn’t get enough of her love. From your lips to King’s ears, Tai longingly thought.
    Tai lay down on crisp, scented sheets as the cool May breeze blew through barely opened balcony doors. She reached over and stroked King’s side of the bed. She still loved him, even after all she’d been through with him, unconditionally, like Christ. No wonder the cross was the symbol of ultimate sacrifice. Because to survive a marriage, one had better be willing to get crucified.
     
    King sat silently reading the newspaper in his study. He’d come here as a means of escape; it was an unwritten rule that he not be bothered when he was in his office. Being around Tai and the kids was becoming more and more uncomfortable. He felt as guilty as he did out of control. The phone rang. It was Derrick.
    “Hey, man,” King answered cheerfully, thankful to be distracted from his thoughts. “What’s up?”
    “I was calling to ask you the same