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shouldn’t have yelled at him that way. I just hated the judgmental attitudes of some of the more vocal members of my church. I hadn’t even made a decision to move on after my wife’s death, and already tongues were wagging—or at least James’s was—about my taste in women. I know James thought he was protecting my reputation and my career from the churchpeople who would be scrutinizing my every move, but who were they to tell me who I could or couldn’t see? I knew Monique Johnson had a bad reputation. My own wife helped create it because of her jealousy. What James, Charlene, and the rest of the church needed to recognize was that despite her faults, Monique was a good Christian woman who participated in every church function she could, unlike others in our congregation.
    I pulled into my driveway. Just as I got out of the car, my phone rang. I quickly answered, thinking it was James. I was glad to have the opportunity to apologize and explain myself.
    “James?”
    “No, Thomas Kelly, it’s not James. This is Marlene. How’re you doing?”
    “I’m good, Marlene. How are you doing?” I was happy to hear from her. I could talk to Marlene about almost anything. “I saw you in church last Sunday. Why didn’t you stick around and say hello?”
    “Oh, I left Aubrey at home alone, and I had promised him we could go buy some sneakers on the Avenue.”
    “Okay. So, to what do I owe the pleasure of this call?” I checked my watch. “It’s pretty late. Is everything all right?”
    “Everything’s fine. I was just thinking about you, and I was hoping we could get together for dinner. I’d love to sit around and chat. I miss talking to you, Thomas Kelly.”
    “I miss talking to you, too, Marlene. With Charlene gone, I miss having a woman to talk to about something other than church business.”
    “That’s exactly why I thought we should talk. So, when are you free?”
    With the seeds of change planted in my head by James’s words, I could use someone to talk to. Marlene and I had a history together, and she knew me before I was Bishop T.K. Wilson. She knew me when I was just a man, and she accepted me with all my habits and flaws. Maybe she would be able to advise me on how I should proceed if I decided I was ready to start dating. At least I knew Marlene wouldn’t be concerned like others in the church about the reputation of whichever woman I chose. If anyone understood the ability of the human spirit to redeem itself after past mistakes, Marlene did. I knew she wouldn’t judge Monique as harshly as James had.
    “The only day I’ve got free is this Wednesday night after Bible study,” I told her. “How about we take a ride over to City Island and get us some crab legs and shrimp?”
    “Mmmm, that sounds good. I love crab legs.”
    “You sure do. Remember the time we went to Captain George’s in Richmond and you ate so many crabs from the buffet they wouldn’t bring any more out?” We both laughed.
    “Uh-huh, that’s when I started to eat all the shrimp they had.” “Girl, you sure could eat back then. I still don’t know how you could eat so much and stay so skinny.”
    “I wish I could do it now, ‘cause everything I eat goes right to my hips.”
    “Trust me. That’s not necessarily a bad thing. I think you have nice hips.”
Now why did I just say that?
I wondered.
Because it’s true.
    “Thomas Kelly, have you been looking at my hips?”
    I was silent for a while; then I decided to tell the truth like you can do only with a woman you’ve had a child with. “Marlene, I hope you don’t take offense to this, but I’ve always looked at your hips. It’s been a very bad habit since we were kids. Please forgive me.” For the last sentence, I put on my most sarcastic voice.
    “Please forgive you, huh? Negro, please.” She burst out laughing, and I joined in. “Thomas Kelly Wilson, you are a trip. I’m glad to see you haven’t lost your sense of humor and let this bishop stuff go