Doin' Me

by Wanda B. Campbell

Genres: African American; African American Christian; Christian Fiction

Synopsis

All Reyna Mills ever wanted was to be accepted and loved. That's why she patterned her life according to the will of those who claimed to have her best interests at heart: an unassuming mother, a controlling pastor, and an elusive God. After "godly" advice leaves her beaten, humiliated, and handcuffed in the backseat of a police car, Reyna decides it's time to do things her way. She's determined that she no longer needs anyone, especially God, but her sudden change of heart leads her down a delusional path that just might destroy her. Will the relationship Reyna once had with God be enough to pluck out the root of bitterness and resentment before the enemy totally consumes her? What will it take for Reyna to realize that the love and acceptance she has been longing for is right in front of her? Wanda B. Campbell is the author of six awarding-winning Christian Fiction novels. Wanda is a two-time winner of the Urban Reviews Top Shelf Book Award, two-time winner of Coffee Time Romance's Critical Review Award, and a three-time Black Expressions Book Club Bestselling Author. She has appeared on the BCNN1/BCBC National Bestselling List multiple times and was nominated at the 2011 African American Literary Awards Show in the Christian Fiction category. A mother of three, she resides in the San Francisco Bay area with her husband. She is currently pursuing her bachelor's degree in biblical studies.

Release date: May 1, 2013

Publisher: Urban Christian

Print pages: 288

Sample

Reyna Mills posed in the full-length mirror. She turned to the right, then to the left. She bent over at the waist and shook her shoulders. Unsatisfied with the results, she repositioned the bustier and performed the test again. Now pleased, she turned to view her backside. The snug eighteen-inch black skirt stopped below mid-thigh and just above the knee. She walked over to the closet and stepped into four-inch-heeled black pumps.

“Perfect!” she exclaimed at her reflection. Tyson, her unofficial date for the evening, was probably too anal to appreciate her newly waxed bare legs, but there was no way she’d ruin the black and red ensemble with nylons. Neither would she limit the display of her thirty-four C-size “girls.” It had taken Reyna almost twenty years to appreciate her assets and not feel condemned to hell for showing them off.

For years she’d heard her mother and her former pastor, Rosalie Jennings, preach against everything from a woman cutting her hair to wearing makeup. “Modesty is best,” the pastor had said. Pastor Jennings would probably have a coronary if she saw Reyna now. Not only had Reyna traded in her shoulder-length tresses for a tapered hairstyle with spikes, but she had also traded in clear lip gloss for a complete makeup kit loaded with color.

The new look was more than a metamorphosis. It signified her genesis. A rebirth. A coming-of-age. Why it took her so long to realize that inside her skull rested a brain capable of making sound decisions about her life, she’d never know. She chalked it up to being hoodwinked, bamboozled, or even voodooed. Whatever the verb, she would never allow anyone to control her again. From this day forward, decisions like where to go and what to wear would be based on what she wanted and liked, not the words of a self-serving dictator wearing a robe and toting a Bible.

Up until two short months ago, Reyna had considered disagreeing with Pastor Rosalie Jennings next to blasphemy on the sin scale. She’d grown up in the church, under the teachings of Pastor Jennings. Her mother and her beloved pastor were friends. Whereas Reyna’s mother had been too occupied with church business to notice Reyna, Pastor Jennings had always had time for her. Reyna had spent many Sunday afternoons at the pastor’s kitchen table. It was at that same table that Reyna had recited the sinner’s prayer and had committed her life to Christ at the tender age of seventeen. Reyna couldn’t pinpoint the date, but at some point the respect she held for Pastor Jennings had been transformed into idolization. That had left her with a busted lip, a blackened eye, and a night in jail for breaking into and entering a private residence.

Reyna turned to examine the tight layered curls on the back of her head. If she’d known she’d look this good, she would have made her hairstylist cut that mess off a long time ago. If she hadn’t been so consumed with pleasing the woman of God, she might have been able to complete graduate school and land a husband. At Pastor Jennings’s request, Reyna had put school on hold and had spent nearly five years chasing the pastor’s son, Kevin. Her grand prize wasn’t the great Dr. Kevin Jennings, but a badge of humiliation she doubted she’d ever live down. Reyna figured Pastor Jennings must have gotten the wires crossed with the prophetic word assuring her Kevin was her husband. Kevin reunited with his estranged wife, and they were now expecting their first child. All Reyna got out of the deal was a new job as property manager for a local real estate office, thanks to Tyson, who just happened to be Kevin’s best friend.

Reyna moved to the dresser and sprayed on Halle Berry’s new fragrance, hoping the fruity scent would make her more desirable, but not to Tyson. She hoped to meet a prospect at the charity benefit dinner tonight. Not that attorney Tyson Stokes wasn’t a good catch. He owned his own home, his own firm, and had no baby mamas. But he was saved, sanctified, and filled to the brim with the Holy Ghost. Something she could do without. She’d been freed from the plantation—that was what she now called organized religion—and she was never going back. She’d give Tyson a superficial friendship, but never would she give anyone associated with God her heart. Pastor Jennings’s manipulation and betrayal had annihilated her trust in God and anyone claiming to know Him. From now on Reyna controlled her destiny.

She’d accepted Tyson’s invitation to the event only because despite growing up in the Bay Area, she’d never been inside the plush Claremont Hotel nestled in the Berkeley hills. Since the historic hotel didn’t normally hold church functions, her once rigid religious beliefs didn’t allow non-Christian social gatherings, and neither did her budget. Being friends with Tyson had its advantages.

She grabbed her clutch purse and sashayed downstairs and toward the front door. Out of habit, she opened the coat closet, then changed her mind. She looked too good to hide behind a lined wool coat.

“What street corner are you going to stand on dressed like that?”

The shrill voice, which always lacked affection, belonged to her mother. Reyna made the three strides to the front door before turning and addressing her mother. With each step she wondered why she hadn’t she used the back door.

“You heard me, Jezebel. Where are you going?”

Reyna hated being compared to the evil biblical Queen Jezebel, mainly because up until a few months ago Reyna categorized a woman who went around with bare arms and bare legs and wore makeup as a loose Jezebel. Without knowing the woman’s name or history, she passed judgment. Now she was one of them and didn’t care what her mother or anyone else thought.

“Mother, I told you earlier, I’m meeting Tyson at the charity banquet for the youth center.”

Jewel Mills, dressed in a floral-print muumuu, stood and stomped her left foot against the hardwood floor. “Have you lost your mind? You’re going to a formal event with a prominent lawyer dressed like a two-dollar whore?” Jewel threw her hands up and shook her head. “I know Rosalie and I raised you better than that. You need to read what the Bible says about loose women.”

The sound of her former pastor and mentor’s name sent searing heat throughout Reyna’s body. Her eyes burned. Her right fist involuntarily clenched. Her nostrils flared. Though her emotions raged, she remained calm as she scrutinized every inch of her mother as she stepped into her space.

The woman who’d birthed her yet failed to nurture her, opting instead to push her off on her best friend, had the audacity to criticize her. Jewel had sat back and plotted with Pastor Jennings and had encouraged Reyna to chase after a married man. Jewel had wanted her to marry Dr. Kevin Jennings and pastor the church. She’d even helped Reyna get dressed the night she attempted to seduce him. Now this holier-than-thou woman had the nerve to judge her?

“Why don’t you read the Bible for yourself?” Reyna snarled through clenched teeth. “You might learn that your beloved Pastor Rosalie Jennings is the reason you couldn’t keep Daddy around.”

If Reyna’s face wasn’t so heavily coated with makeup, the slap would have hurt more. Jewel didn’t like to be reminded that her husband had divorced her because she spent too much time on her knees at church and not enough time tending to his needs. Since her husband wasn’t saved, Jewel had followed Pastor Jennings’s advice and had rationed sex. Unfortunately for Jewel, her husband found a neighbor who was always open for business. He left Jewel and moved in with the woman and later fathered her three children.

Jewel’s hand shook uncontrollably as she pointed at her daughter. “You better watch how you talk to me. I don’t care how old you are. I’m still your mother! And what happened between me and your father is still none of your business!”

Reyna ceased massaging her cheek. “I’m almost thirty-one years old. How much older do I have to be to know you and Rosalie robbed me of my daddy’s presence?”

“That’s Pastor Jennings to you. And you got to see your daddy from time to time. It’s not my fault he raised his other children and not you. And what’s that got to do with you dressing like a streetwalker?”

It was useless; her mother would defend Pastor Jennings until her last breath. “Mother, I don’t care what you think. This is how I dress now. If you don’t like it, too bad.” Reyna rolled her eyes and started for the door again.

“What about Tyson?” Jewel called. “What does he think about this new look?”

Reyna whirled around and glared at the woman she’d begun to despise. “Let me make myself perfectly clear. I don’t care what you, Tyson, or even God Himself thinks about me. I’m a grown woman, and I’ll do whatever I want.” She slammed the wooden door and decided it was time to move out of her mother’s plantation.

“Man, why don’t you just call her?” Kevin asked after Tyson returned from checking the lobby for the third time. “Maybe you should give her the speech about how much you detest tardiness and have no concept of CP time.”

Without comment, Tyson reclaimed his seat and took a swig of sugarless iced tea. Reyna was late, and his best friend was correct with his assessment. Tyson’s profession didn’t tolerate tardiness, and socially, neither did he.

He’d offered to pick Reyna up, but she’d insisted on driving since this wasn’t a real date from her perspective. He didn’t completely agree but didn’t bother to share his thoughts with her. In his opinion, they’d been in some sort of relationship for about four months. They’d never talked about their status, but Tyson’s anal personality prevented him from wasting time on frivolous things, including relationships. After working together on projects at church for five years, Reyna knew that; therefore, having the “talk” was unnecessary. Tyson had spent countless days deprogramming Reyna from their former pastor’s cultlike control and rebuilding her self-esteem.

He set the glass down and observed his friends. For the first time, he felt a tug of jealousy at the attention Kevin’s wife, Marlissa, lavished on him. They constantly shared physical contact, everything from hand-holding to soft kisses. Tyson had served as best man in their wedding, then had represented Kevin three years later in their divorce proceedings, only to watch them reconcile and renew their vows. Now they were expecting their first child. Through all the drama, Tyson had never thought he’d missed much in the love department. The female acquaintances in college were sufficient in satisfying his physical needs but didn’t come close to touching his soul. In graduate school, the law became his mistress, and up until recently, his law firm had left him fully sated.

At age thirty-six, he’d accomplished materially what most men dreamed about. Now he desired what Kevin and Marlissa shared. He wanted love, and he wanted it with Reyna. Slight tremors rocked him at the revelation.

Never in a million years did he think he’d be attracted to Reyna Mills, the church girl who had stalked his best friend. Then one day Reyna the square was transformed into Reyna the woman. Liking what he saw, Tyson dug deeper and pulled back the layers and found a woman he could love if given the chance.

“If you really want to get Reyna’s attention, you should take lessons from your boy.” Marlissa nodded toward Kevin. “He’s the king of romance.”

Tyson refused to admit he needed help in the romance department. If he could maintain a 95 percent win record in court, he’d figure out a way to woo Reyna. “You’re right. He’s so romantic that a few months ago you punched him at the altar,” he said, referring to Marlissa’s reaction to Kevin’s confession of love during their surprise vow renewal ceremony.

“True. I had to whip him into shape, but now he’s well trained.” Both Kevin and Tyson laughed out loud. “I’m serious,” Marlissa said, patting her slightly extended belly. “If you want to get Reyna or any other woman, you’re going to have to loosen up.”

“Hey, guys.” Starla approached the table, slightly winded, with Leon a half step behind.

“Great. Just what I need, more love floating around,” Tyson grumbled at his friends. Like Kevin and Marlissa, Leon and Starla were madly in love and were expecting a baby.

“Man, don’t be hatin’,” Leon said as he pulled out Starla’s chair. “It doesn’t go well with your award-winning personality.” He smiled and shook Tyson’s hand.

Tyson’s jaw twitched as he watched his friends greet one another as if they hadn’t seen each other in years, when in actuality the couples shared Sunday dinner every week. He used to join them, until he began feeling like a fifth wheel. Reyna refused to join them, to sit around and listen to how good God was.

“Is Reyna coming?” Starla asked Tyson after getting settled. “I sure hope so. I don’t want to spend the evening with your funky attitude.”

Marlissa spoke before he could answer. “I was just telling him that he needs to loosen up. He needs to work on romancing Reyna.”

“Tell me about it,” Starla chimed in. “They’ve been hanging out for months, and I bet the girl doesn’t even know he’s interested.”

“Girl, you know he hasn’t even kissed her,” Marlissa noted. Then she and Starla continued talking as if Tyson wasn’t there, then with ease moved on to baby talk.

Tyson sipped more iced tea and faked interest in Kevin and Leon’s conversation about Star Construction, Leon’s company. Although he was an investor in the business, at the moment he could care less about its success. What Tyson needed was Reyna’s presence, and he needed it now. He wanted someone special to share dinner conversation with, and when the music started, he didn’t want to sit back and watch the other dancers. Tonight Tyson wanted to participate.

“I guess we’d better dig in,” Kevin said after the waiter set salads in front of each of them, leaving one in the vacant space beside Tyson.

“I guess you’re right. Wouldn’t want to keep you lovebirds waiting on us lonely peons.” Tyson mumbled a blessing over the food, then reached for the salt and pepper. It was then he realized his friends were staring at him. His jealousy had slipped through his lips.

He abandoned his quest for the salt and pepper and rested his elbows on the table. Seated at the table were the people he cared most about in the world, although he doubted if he’d told them that. Kevin understood him like a blood brother. He trusted Leon with his life. Marlissa and Starla, he loved them like sisters, but most of the time he treated them as emotional nuisances.

“Guys, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.” The group continued to stare. Apologizing was also new to Tyson. Normally, when he offended someone, he didn’t care. He pushed his chair back and stood. “I’m going to get some air.”

“Oh my,” Starla gasped, looking past Tyson.

Marlissa’s mouth hung open, but no words flowed. Both Leon’s and Kevin’s eyes bulged.

When Tyson turned and Reyna’s frame came into focus, his mouth also dropped. His bright skin turned crimson, and his nostrils flared. Charcoal flecks appeared in his hazel-colored eyes. The need that had engulfed him only moments earlier vanished. Right now embarrassment clothed him. His anger rose a notch with every seductive step Reyna took toward him. She reached him, wearing a bright smile, and in his opinion, very little else.

“Hi, guys,” Reyna greeted the group. “Sorry I’m late, but I ran into traffic. I hope I didn’t miss much.”

“H—hey, Reyna,” Kevin stuttered. “You’re right on time. The program hasn’t started yet.”

“Yeah . . .” Marlissa finally found her voice. “They just served the salad.”

Leon and Starla stuffed baby spinach leaves into their mouths.

“Good. I’m starved.” Reyna looked over at Tyson, who hadn’t uttered one word, and gestured toward the empty chair. “Do I have to pull out my own chair?”

Tyson leaned close to her ear and said through clenched teeth, “I need to see you outside for a moment . . . right now.”

Reyna waved him off and pulled out the chair and sat down. “Whatever you have to say can wait. I’m ready to eat.”

Tyson continued standing until Kevin tapped his shoulder and visually communicated that people were staring and murmuring. Reluctantly, he sat down and glared at Reyna. Oblivious to his discomfort, Reyna poured on dressing and proceeded to devour the salad.

“Tyson.” Starla’s tone was softer than normal. “Eat your salad before it gets cold.”

Tyson’s face twisted, then relaxed, and he chuckled at Starla’s attempt to calm him down. “Whatever you say, Mother Scott,” he said in reference to Starla’s mother-in-law, who was a member at his church and a noted prayer warrior.

Leon raised an eyebrow. “I think you could use my mother’s help right about now.”

“Don’t I know it,” Tyson mumbled before biting the dry leaves.

Forty-five minutes later, during dessert, Reyna finally turned and spoke to Tyson. “Now, what did you want to talk about?”

Tyson savored a bit of tiramisu before answering. He set his fork down and made eye contact with a gentleman two tables over. The same gentleman had been eyeing Reyna throughout dinner. He placed his arm around Reyna’s bare shoulder, then nodded at the gentleman. With the unspoken communication, the stranger turned his attention elsewhere.

Tyson stood and held out his hand. “It’s a little stuffy in here. Let’s go outside.” Reyna pushed back from the table and stood. Tyson felt his anger return. “Would you like to use my jacket?”

“Oh, no, I’m fine.” Reyna strolled through the banquet hall with her head held high, unaware of the stares. When they reached the lobby, she sat down on the white leather sofa, with her legs crossed at the knee.

Tyson paced the Venetian carpet. This was new territory for him. If he were in the courtroom, he’d know exactly what to say to persuade the jury in his favor. But he wasn’t in court, in front of a jury. He was in a historical five-star resort with a woman who looked like she’d do anything for fifty dollars.

He ceased pacing and stuffed his hands into his pants pockets. “Reyna, did I mention that this was a formal event?”

Reyna stopped brushing her nails on the hem of her skirt. “Of course you did. That’s why I wore this black skirt and bought this new top.”

Tyson closed his eyes and counted to ten. “Reyna, you’re not this dense. What did you do? Leave the rest of the top on the rack? You would’ve done better showing up topless for the good that thing’s doing.” His eyes traveled to her legs. “And where’s the rest of your skirt? My dinner napkin has more fabric than that thing. Take a look around you. Every man here has on a tuxedo, and the women are wearing evening gowns. I don’t have a problem with the makeup and the haircut, but this attire is too much.”

Reyna opened her purse and refreshed her lipstick.

Tyson ran his hand over his short hair. “Look, Reyna, I’m a prominent lawyer. I can’t be seen socially with a woman who looks like a . . .” He didn’t finish.

Reyna jumped to her feet. “Go on and say it, Tyson. Say how you really feel.” She prodded until he gave in.

“Fine! I’ll say it. You embarrassed me tonight. You’re dressed like you don’t respect yourself. You’re displaying assets that should remain private. You look cheap.”

For a slight second, he thought he saw hurt flash in her eyes. Then she spewed venom. “First of all, you invited me, not the other way around.” Her forefinger wagged in his face. “I don’t dress to please anyone but myself. I’m doin’ me! I can show whatever I want to show. It’s not like you’re my man, anyway. If you don’t like it, don’t ask me out again. I only agreed to come in hopes of finding a real man.” She left him standing in the empty lobby with his mouth open.

By the time Tyson had processed her words and returned to the tabl. . .