I was headed for a quick hop to Cleveland with an early morning connection to Atlanta. I was now sixteen days, nineteen hours, and seventeen minutes away from Sheree’s engagement party. Sixteen days, nineteen hours, and seventeen minutes away from my crowning moment where I would unveil to the world the man of my dreams. My husband-to-be. My future baby daddy. Flaunting him like a pedigreed poodle at a dog show. He’d be on a leash and I would take him, table by table, to greet each bitter Moore family woman. One jaded Moore family woman after another would seethe with rage because my man would look better, walk taller, and smell nicer than any other man in the room. Reaching the airport, I paid my fare, tipped the driver, and sprinted through the airport to hop on Flight 210 to Cleveland. Once in Cleveland, during my brief layover I prepared my mind for contestant number two, Reverend Curtis P. Merewether, pastor and founder of Greater House of Deliverance Tabernacle of Prayer, Worship, and Miracles. His church was one of the biggest Pentecostal churches in the whole state of Georgia.

Being greatly in need of forgiveness for my most recent transgressions, I was more than pleased to know that he was my next contestant. Curtis was a man of morals. A man of honor. A man of God. Like a hard-edged executive bag, Curtis was steadfast. He was unmovable, and always abounding in the work of the Lord. Three parts carry-on mixed with five parts curbside check-in, Curtis was caught in the matrix between not-too-good-looking but not-so-

bad-looking either. He was a good old country man, the kind that says “Yes ma’am” and “No ma’am.” Healthy and corn fed, raised on collard greens, spareribs, and homemade biscuits, Curtis was at least a size 40. Sturdy and tangible. The kind of man you can hold on to in case of an earthquake, tornado, or any other instant natural disaster. A few jiggles in the midsection, but not enough to make him unattractive, just enough to give him character.

After I heard him speak at the C.O.G.I.C. women’s conference during one of my layovers in Philadelphia, he quickly became one of my favorite speakers. Every chance I got, especially when he was in Baltimore, I would find time to hear him preach. Having seen me at several revivals, prophetic conferences, demon purgings, street meetings, and tarry services, his interest was sparked and we soon began dating. Unfortunately, though, what had at first appeared to be the possibility of a long-term, long-distance relationship soon fizzled into short-term, very infrequent long-distance calls. So for me, this was the perfect opportunity to not only be preached to, but possibly proposed to as well. Curtis was a welcome change of pace from my experience with Damon.