Sinful Too by Victor McGlothin Read Free Book Online

his suit at the shop.
Lots of people
, she wrote,
lots of needy folk with too much time on their hands. Lots of well-dressed needy folk
, she added.
And, lots of money.
A second look caused her to race toward the television with a pen in hand. She began counting rows and multiplying them in her head. Each time she’d get close to estimating the actual size of the congregation, the camera seemed to flash right back to Richard’s mug.
Huh, he doesn’t look that bad on TV
, she thought.
Nice suit; blue looks good on him. His makeup is a tad too light though. His wife should have caught that before she sent him out of the house with his lunch and backpack.
She wrote that down as well.
Find wifey in the crowd. Find family
, she jotted as well.
Check them out.
Dior’s eyes followed the action as best she could while constructing mental notes to match those she’d written on paper.
    Richard wasted no time diving into his sermon. Dior missed the title of the message the first time because it didn’t sound important. The way he emphasized it the second time around caught her attention. “That’s right, church.
Don’t get caught dead in the wrong clothes
,” he proclaimed assertively. Dior put her pen down on the notepad then leaned back into the sofa cushion. His words sounded familiar because he’d borrowed them from her speech to him at Giorgio’s. She was in for the long haul then, listening for other references lifted from her sales pitch as he continued. “Now, some of y’all are already thinking of that blessed day of your home going, sisters prepared in fine St. John gowns and brothers dapped in Hugo Boss three-button suits with French cuffs to set it off right. But that’s not what I’m talking about this morning. I know we like to look good, dress nice, and so forth, but I’m talking about dressing the spiritual man, the spiritual woman. Listen up, because it’s a heaven or hell undertaking. This very day, many of us are proudly sporting somebody else’s clothes. We’re doing the sort of things that ought not to fit a Christian. We’re out there Sunday through Monday carrying on like other folk who we put down time after time for doing the same thing, dressed in the same outfit you do your dirt in. Say amen if you can.” There was a loud round of
all right now
s and
tell ’em preacher
s. “Oh yeah, we dress the part of a committed Christian by saying the right stuff
while in the Lord’s house
although our hearts are saying something altogether different. Nice day, Brotha So-and-so,
with all of them silly women chasing him around
,” he mimicked would be busybodies in the congregation. Laughter resounded in the auditorium as many of the members agreed with the lighthearted rousing. “Sometimes our men are no better. I’ve overheard some of them speak to a sister in Christ with the utmost respect in her face then tear her down like she was Jezebel as soon as her back is turned. Uh-huh, y’all know I’m right.” Again, members shouted their acknowledgment of the truth. “That’s why God is interested in how you decide to clothe your inner man.” Dior nearly jumped into the television screen.
    “Deacon Do-Good! You ripped off my line about the inner man, man. That’s my hook,” she barked, with a partial smile on her lips. “You’re biting my style, Richard. You’ bitin’.” She settled down when Richard called out book, chapter, and verse to discuss further.
    “Those who are prepared with your spiritual swords today please join us at Ephesians, chapter six and starting at verse thirteen.” As Richard paused for everyone to find the passage, he looked into the camera. Dior felt a chill scamper down her back. It was as if he were talking directly to her. She sat up and grabbed the Bible, flipping through it vigorously. With frustration mounting, she went to the index to locate the particular book because she didn’t have a clue where it was.
    “Corinthians, Galatians, Ephesians,” she