“What do you mean y’all? You forgot where you were raised? You forgot about your daddy?”

“No.” She shrugged. “But you know it’s been years since I’ve walked into any church. And it’s because of things like this. I mean, I've heard of 'for better or for worse.' But what happened to basic respect?”

I took a sip of wine, giving myself time to explain it to Jada. “Their argument is that respect comes second to their calling. Everything at the expense of the church they’re building.”

“Better to walk away than burn that church down, which is exactly what I’d be doing right now.”

I just shook my head, sad that my sister was telling the truth. “I think there’s a solution somewhere in between staying silent and burning the church down.”

“No in between for me. You guys put up with a lot in the name of religion. Y’all are almost as bad as baller wives and the ish they have to deal with.”

As Jada mentioned ballers wives, a leggy woman sauntered by and my eyes widened a bit at just how short her dress was. I mean, she couldn’t afford any kind of mistake; if she dropped any money, she’d have to just leave it wherever it fell. The hem of her dress ended at the same place as her Malaysian yacky weave — both right at the end of her butt.

It was her purple form-fitting mini that caught my attention, but that wasn’t what held it. When she slipped into the chair at a table across from us, she crossed her legs, leaned back in the chair and looked straight at me as if that had been her purpose all along. She looked...familiar. But then, I shook my head, broke eye contact, and returned my attention to my sister, my duck wings and my brussel sprouts.

“Well more power to that First Lady,” Jada said. “That’s all I got. Wishing her power.”

“I’ve been praying for Rena...and her husband.”

“That’s because you’re a good Christian,” Jada smirked. “So besides the First Ladies Cult....”

“It’s the First Ladies Council, not cult.”

“Not the way you described it, but besides those women, you good?”

My eyes wandered to the table across from us, only because I could feel the heat of the woman’s stare. When I glanced at her, she didn’t do what most people did when they were caught — she held my gaze.

Again, I shook my head and turned away from her. “Yeah,” I said, finally answering my sister’s question. “I am good.”

“You don’t sound anywhere near good.”

“No, I am. I mean, Jeremy and I have some things to work out.”

She frowned. “Like what? Y’all having problems?” Before I could answer, she continued, “Please don’t tell me that. You two are the perfect couple, second only to Mommy and Daddy.”

I pushed my plate aside. “We’re not having trouble. It’s just that I have to deal with all the things that Mom had to handle as a pastor’s wife.”