Page 13 of Hooked on Loving Him

“Fuck you.” I grumble inside the quiet interior, pulling my eyes away from the couple to start my car and leave the spot as my mood tanks.

Being single is lonely as hell, and despite knowing Marquan ain’t shit, I still entertain him simply because I have been too afraid to search for someone to fill in the gaps of a man’s presence. I’m not a woman who has to have a man to be happy, but damn it, I’m a woman who loves to be held in a tight manly embrace with a broad shoulder to lean my head on. Desperate for a change in my thoughts, I pull up Pandora and immediately start singing with the song that begins playing.

“Whatever You do for me. However, things turn out to be. As long as He’s in control. I know things will work out for me.” I sing loudly as I turn out of my townhouse community onto the main street heading toward the freeway.

It’s crazy that I cuss like a sailor trapped on a ship for months but listen to mostly gospel music. Mycah calls me a musical hypocrite, while Jordan thinks it's funny. No matter the situation, I crank whatever gospel song playing in my car like I’m at a rap concert. It’s another influence from Papa Ren I’ve been unable to shake, but I don’t mind as much as I let on in his presence.

“As long as You’re in control. I know things will work out for me,” I sing as the song ends, bringing a smile from the light atmosphere surrounding me.

Thirty minutes later…

“Shari and Mari, my favorite god babies,” Papa Ren says, walking up to the table where Amari and I are sitting.

“Unless you have some hidden bastards in your closet, we’re your only god babies, Papa Renny,” Amari says, smirking.

“Language, Amari Weeks,” Papa Ren says while kissing her cheek before moving to me and doing the same, then sitting in the empty seat next to me.

One thing that I love about Lorenzo Reese is that no matter what he has going on with his church or personal life, he has never neglected to spend time with Amari and me. We have a monthly date for the three of us to get together that’s either lunch, brunch, or dinner, depending on his schedule. With the date being every second Saturday of the month, Amari and I are always willing to accommodate Papa Ren with whatever his schedule allows.

“Sorry, Papa Renny, but do you have other godchildren we’re unaware of?” Amari asks with her brows hiking.

“No. God knew you two would be the handfuls I needed to keep me busy, entertained, and loved,” he says, winking.

“Good, because I’ll fight about you,” Amari says.

“No need. Has a waiter come by yet?” he asks.

“Yes. I ordered your apple juice with light ice,” I say, entering the conversation for the first time, causing Papa Ren to set his gaze on me.

Something flashes in his eyes that I can’t read. He stares at me intently, causing me to shift in my seat, and my palms instantly begin perspiring.

Damn. What did I do?

“I’ve been in a mean battle concerning you the last two weeks, Shari,” Papa Ren says after several minutes, causing me to swallow.

I sit motionless while watching Papa Ren as the waiter returns to our table with our drink orders. Amari and I both gotstrawberry mimosas, and my glass doesn’t touch the table a full second before I snatch it up and take a healthy gulp as my taste buds war with my desperation to quiet the mounting flipping of my stomach. For the most part, the dates with Papa Ren are seamless and bonding experiences, but every now and then, this happens. Papa Ren and his need to share whatever God tells him with Amari and me takes precedence. My nerves are spiraling as Amari begins ordering her meal before the waiter turns to me.

“What can I get for you?” the waiter asks while giving me a lust-filled expression that I’m too overloaded to respond to.

“Chicken and waffles with a side of cheese grits, please,” I say, setting my glass on the table with half of the contents now gone.

Nodding, the waiter moves on to Papa Ren, who smiles politely, causing the tension in my back to ease slightly.

“I’ll also take the chicken and waffles. Can you also bring her a refill of whatever she’s drinking?” Papa Ren says, nodding in my direction.

“Sure thing. I’ll get these orders in, but let me know if you need anything else.” With that, he walks away, granting Papa Ren the floor again.

“Out of curiosity, did you watch the replay of last week’s sermon?” Papa Ren asks me.

“I did, and it was the bomb. You did your big one with that message,” Amari says before I have a chance to reply.

Wordlessly, I nod because, between the lump in my throat and my nerves, I’m unable to formulate words at this moment.

“Good. I thought it was an ordinary message God wanted me to deliver to his people, but that night, you caused me to tussle with the Savior on your behalf. I felt like Jacob because it took me until daybreak to prevail.”

My mind spins with the scripture reference Papa Ren is talking about, because it sounds familiar, yet I’m unable to place the exact passage.

What about my life is causing Papa Ren and God to disagree or come to such extremes?

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