What kind of fool, p.1
What Kind of Fool, page 1
What Kind of Fool
Rhonda McKnight
www.urbanchristianonline.com
All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Advance Praise for What Kind of Fool
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Prologue - Samaria
Part I - Angelina and Greg
Chapter 1 - Angelina
Chapter 2 - Angelina
Chapter 3 - Angelina
Chapter 4 - Greg
Chapter 5 - Greg
Chapter 6 - Angelina
Chapter 7 - Greg
Chapter 8 - Greg
Chapter 9 - Greg
Chapter 10 - Angelina
Chapter 11 - Angelina
Chapter 12 - Greg
Part II - Samaria and Mekhi
Chapter 13 - Samaria
Chapter 14 - Samaria
Chapter 15 - Mekhi
Chapter 16 - Samaria
Chapter 17 - Mekhi
Chapter 18 - Samaria
Chapter 19 - Samaria
Part III - Angelina and Greg, Samaria and Mekhi
Chapter 20 - Greg
Chapter 21 - Samaria
Chapter 22 - Angelina
Chapter 23 - Greg
Chapter 24 - Angelina
Chapter 25 - Samaria
Chapter 26 - Mekhi
Chapter 27 - Greg
Chapter 28 - Samaria
Chapter 29 - Greg
Chapter 30 - Samaria
Chapter 31 - Samaria
Chapter 32 - Mekhi
Chapter 33 - Samaria
Chapter 34 - Samaria
Chapter 35 - Samaria
Chapter 36 - Mekhi
Chapter 37 - Samaria
Chapter 38 - Mekhi
Chapter 39 - Greg
Chapter 40 - Samaria
Chapter 41 - Angelina
Chapter 42 - Mekhi
Chapter 43 - Samaria
Chapter 44 - Samaria
Chapter 45 - Samaria
Chapter 46 - Samaria
Chapter 47 - Samaria
Chapter 48 - Mekhi
Part IV - Angelina and Greg
Chapter 49 - Greg
Chapter 50 - Angelina
Chapter 51 - Greg
Chapter 52 - Greg
Chapter 53 - Greg
Chapter 54 - Angelina
Chapter 55 - Angelina
Epilogue - Samaria
Readers’ Group Guide Questions
About the Author
UC HIS GLORY BOOK CLUB!
WHAT WE BELIEVE:
Copyright Page
Advance Praise for What Kind of Fool
“Rhonda McKnight is back with her special blend of Jesus, drama, and more emotional intensity than she’s ever delivered before. What Kind of Fool is sure to satisfy readers from the first page to the last word.”
-Sherri L. Lewis, Essence Bestselling Author of Selling My Soul and My Soul Cries Out
“Samaria is back with a bang! Rhonda McKnight delivers the surprises one after another in this fast-paced story that will keep readers at the edge of their seats.”
—Tiffany L. Warren, Essence Bestselling Author of The Bishop’s Daughter and In the Midst of It All and the founder of the Annual Faith and Fiction Retreat
“What Kind of Fool is an amazing story. It was so good, I could hardly stop reading. I loved it.”
-Bettrena Williamson, Global Impact Ministries Daughters of Destiny Book Club
What People Have Said about
-An Inconvenient Friend
“Rhonda McKnight has written a sizzling novel, full of jaw-dropping sexy drama and unexpected plot twists. I was captivated by this fresh, original story from page one.”
—Victoria Christopher Murray, Essence Bestselling Author of The Deal, the Dance, and the Devil and Sins of the Mother
“Talk about scandalous! An Inconvenient Friend is full of drama and deception, but God’s message of forgiveness and redemption are powerfully delivered. Rhonda McKnight has quickly earned her place as a favorite in Christian fiction.”
—Sherri L. Lewis, Essence Bestselling Author of Selling My Soul and The List
“A smoothly blended story line of the Bible and everyday life, An Inconvenient Friend will have you looking closer into your relationships.”
—Reviewed by Sharon Lewis of The RAWSISTAZ (tm) Reviewers
Praise for Secrets and Lies
“Rhonda McKnight has written an emotional but inspiring story of faith, trust, and forgiveness as well as the importance of having God in our lives.”
—Jacquelin Thomas, Essence Bestselling Author of Sampson and The Ideal Wife
“Rhonda McKnight is a fresh new voice in Christian fiction who writes with the skill and grace of a seasoned pro. Her characters seem like friends, and her prose flows effortlessly.”
—Stacy Hawkins Adams, Essence Bestselling Author of The Someday List
“Rhonda McKnight’s debut novel doesn’t disappoint. It mixes appealing and relatable characters with doses of drama and mischief that kept me hooked until the last page.”
—Tia McCollors, Essence Bestselling Author of Steppin’ Into the Good Life and The Last Woman Standing
Dedication
For my father, Jimmy McKnight ...
who encouraged me to dream, taught me to be
wise, and showed me how to take chances.
Love, Giant
Acknowledgments
These acknowledgments are all about my readers, that is, right after I finish with family. My novels tend to be very serious, but I’m actually a fun-loving person thanks to people like Uncle Downing Kennedy, Elaine White, my late aunt Mary (Phena) Hilyard, Donnell Gardner (the culprit in every spanking I ever had), my sister, Cynthia (undercover hilarity), and my mother, Bessie McKnight, who’s victimless sense of humor I surely inherited. Special hugs to my cousin Felicia White. You are so courageous. And my cousin Georgia Brockington—thanks for reading my books. Okay, I love y’ll who buy and don’t read too.
My sons, Aaron and Micah, you make my world a better place. Love you!
If I don’t say Margaret Brown, she might not babysit for me. Thank you, Margaret. I’a break you off something real soon (wink).
My sister-circle of writers has expanded, but in some sense it has gotten tighter because there are those who are always there for me. Sherri L. Lewis, Dee Stewart (aka Miranda Parker), and Tiffany L. Warren. Thanks to Tia McCollors, ReShonda Tate Billingsley, Pamela Samuels Young, Zaria Garrison, and Shawneda Marks for sharing advice, love, and an expanded point of view. And then there’s Victoria Christopher Murray, my mentor, who imparts so much ... Well, there are no words, not even from a wordsmith. You’re the best VCM!
Pastor Eric at Stockbridge Assembly—your sermon on 4.11.2011—“Dying to Live”—confirmed everything I was writing in this story. Pastor Steven Hedgecoth, all your sermons are words from the Lord. Thank you both for being such awesome men of God.
Dee Stewart—You are a living example that the words heartfailure don’t mean it’s over.
Maria Caraballo—Homey, thanks for hooking me up with the Spanish translation and Bettrena Williamson for giving me that final proofread and finding all those typos that I couldn’t see.
I won an EMMA! Thanks to the Deatri Bey-King and the Romance Slam Jam Organization.
Now, I’m about to mess up because I crashed my computer and lost my calendar, so I’m working from memory (Big Sigh!). Book Clubs that showed me extra love: Tasha Martin and ALL the Sistahfriends, Global Impact “Daughters of Destiny,” Majestic Bloom, Divas Read Retreat, Women of Character, Words of Inspiration, Sisters of Ruth, Page Turners BC of Atlanta, Divas Urban BC, Girl Fridayz BC, Word for Women BC, Sister N Ink, Proverb 31 BC, Diva Readers, Divas Read Too, Southern Divas BC, Doing Something Different BC, Soul Divas, Peace In The Pages, WEG BC, Readers’ Paradise, SistaGirl BC, Distinguished Divas BC, Atlanta Urban League, Books N Beverage (shout-out to Shernita Alston), Sisters With Books BC, and Jazzy Sistahs BC. Readers giving out extra love: Cecilia Johnson, Patricia Woodside, Author Myra Rutledge, LaShaunda Hoffman, Yolanda Latoya Gore, Kimberly Knox, Sheryl Farmer, Phillis Adams, Priscilla Johnson, Apryl Orr, Crystal Gamble-Nolden, Robbie Bowie, Sammi Ma-tel, Beverly Harper, Erika Echols, Lisa DeNeal, Yvette Bentley, Michele Winstead, Nakeisha Brumfield, Angela Chatman, Angela Richards, Sharon Lewis, Etrina Atterberry, Chiquita Broadus, Sharon Jordan, Diane Hardy, Chevonne Frasier, Milbourne Stafford, Dony-alla Manns, Beattie Beard, Yolanda Ervin, Cherlisa Richardson, Olivia Stith, Michelle Rayford, Angel Arnold, Monique Burkes, Makasha Dorsey, Kim Knight, Felecia Pressley, and author Leigh McKnight. Hugs to everybody else in my Facebook and Twitter family.
Thanks to all the reviewers and bloggers who took the time to review: APOOO; RAW; SORMAG; BooksALatte; and OOSA, thanks for adding me to your Best of the Best for two years in a row. Idrissa Uqdah and AALBC, Linda Fegins, Lyn Cote, Darlene Mitchell of Romance in Color, Tavares Carney of Echleon Reviews, Writer’s POV, Black Literature magazine, Cheryl Francis, Literary Wonders, Review magazine, Cecelia Dowdy’s Christian Fiction Blog, uh ... Don’t be mad if you’re not here. I still got love for you; just nudge me and I’ll put you in the next book.
My special stores and lit events: Waldenbooks, Sumter, S.C., and the staff, BooksAMillion, Columbia, S.C., and Urban Knowledge, Columbia, S.C. The Faith and Fiction Retreat and the Divas Read Retreat, both an amazing blessing.
Tyora Moody of TyWebbin Designs, Lisa of Papered-Wonders, Deb Owsley of Simply-Said—you ladies put the words class and professionalism in author services.
Thank you to Carl Weber and the entire team at Urban Books for keeping me in print and Carol Mackey for selecting both my novels for the Black Expression Book Club.
Joylynn Jossel—my editor—you have a good eye and a kind heart. Thanks again for letting me tell my story my way and for putting up with my comma splices. I’m going to do better.
Sha Shana Crichton—my agent—I don’t know how big you are, but you are worth your weight in gold for sharing good, sound advice.
Did I forget you? Forgive a sista. I’ll catch you in the next book. Did I say Tasha Martin???
Now, let’s turn the page. Samaria is back again, and the drama has become very ... inconvenient!
Prologue
Samaria
My heart nearly pounded out of my chest as I said the words. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”
Mekhi Johnson slid an enormous princess cut diamond ring on my finger and the room that was filled with more than one hundred people we didn’t know erupted into a deafening applause. I released the air in my lungs, smiled, and leaned forward to kiss Mekhi on the lips.
Familiar music began to play in the background; Mekhi stood from his down-on-one-knee position and pulled me from my chair to my feet. The recording artist, Ne-Yo, stepped onto the small stage near us and began to sing one of his older songs, “Stop This World.”
“Time for a dance.” Mekhi swept me onto the floor. Ne-Yo’s voice massaged the words to his hit song, and I fell into step with Mekhi. He lowered his lips to mine and kissed me hungrily, almost too hungrily for the public. Our lips parted. “Surprised?”
He knew I was. We hadn’t talked about getting married. Not really. We’d just reconciled a few months ago after being separated from each other for eight years. And there was the matter of my pending trial and prison term.
“You know I’m surprised.” I raised my hand and placed it on his shoulder.
“But you don’t look happy.” Mekhi leaned away from me a little. “You look stressed, baby.”
I was stressed, more stressed than a ring from Tiffany’s could help. The light hit my diamond, and it caused a rainbow-hued sliver of light to slice the air in the room. I had to admit, the ring was a good effort. He had paid a fortune for this monstrosity. It had all the four c’s and then some.
“Sammie,” Mekhi pulled me closer and whispered in my ear, “what’s wrong?”
Truth. Mekhi and I had made a solemn vow that we would always tell each other the truth. Aside from fidelity, it was the only promise we’d made, and yet, less than five minutes after he asked me to become his wife I was going to lie to him.“I ate some Chinese food today, and my stomach has been bothering me.” His brow furrowed, and I changed the subject. “You must be some big shot getting Ne-Yo to sing for us.”
We both looked at the singer. Happiness like this can never last, can never last. Ne-Yo nodded at us and smiled.
“I’ll be an even bigger shot if I can get him away from his label,” Mekhi said, and I almost laughed at the thought that he could steal Ne-Yo from Def Jam. But even the joke couldn’t pull joy from my soul.
I looked out at the smiling faces in the crowd. My family, which consisted of my mother and two cousins, had come out, as had Mekhi’s mother and brother and a few of our friends from high school. The rest of the audience consisted of Benxi, Mekhi’s multiplatinum recording star, the only star on his fairly new, but quickly rising, record label, the Real Housewives of Atlanta, and every other celebrity and wannabe celebrity that called Atlanta home. I should have been thrilled. This was the life I had always wanted. Money, jewelry, parties, celebrity ... But I wasn’t. It was happening at the wrong time. This party was happening on the wrong day.
“I need to go to the restroom.”
“Now?” Mekhi frowned. We were the entertainment for our guests, and I knew the least I could do was finish the dance, but I couldn’t. I was going to throw up.
“Now.” I pulled away, just enough for him to know it couldn’t wait.
“Okay, baby.” He let go of my waist. I smiled at the room full of people and quickly made my way to the ladies’ room.
“Restroom break,” Mekhi said, and I could hear laughter above Ne-Yo’s crooning. I’ve never felt a love strong enough to stop this world from spinning ...
I closed the door and turned the lock. My world was spinning, but not in a good way. I went to the sink and turned the faucet for cold water. Quickly, I splashed some on my face and in my mouth, then pulled paper towels, wet them, and wiped my chest and neck. When I was done, I dropped my upper body against the counter. My elbows rested on the porcelain lip of the sink, and through wet hands I choked back tears. Mekhi had done everything in his power to make tonight wonderful for me. He knew the stress I’d been under. Waiting for a trial that would likely send me to prison for stealing and distributing prescription drugs was hard, especially when I was guilty, but he couldn’t make what I learned today right.
My doctor opened a file on her desk. “You’re eleven weeks pregnant.”
I sat back in my chair. The breath I’d been holding escaped my lungs.
She looked down her nose through aqua-blue reading glasses before she removed them. “You’re not surprised. You took a home pregnancy test.”
I stood to my feet, walked on shaky legs to the huge window adjacent to the chair I’d occupied, and peered out at downtown Atlanta. The hustle and bustle of traffic was at its midday high, but my world had just stopped. “I thought I had a period a few months ago.”
“You likely had some bleeding from implantation, not a menstrual cycle.”
“Eleven weeks.” I turned away from the window to look at her. “I can’t be that far along.”
“But you are. The sonogram confirms it.”
I shook my head, felt nausea engulf me.
“Samaria, is something wrong?”
A knock sounded at the restroom door, pulling me from my memory. “Samaria,” I heard my cousin Ebony call. “Mekhi asked me to check on you. You okay in there?”
I returned my gaze to the mirror. I was not okay. As a matter of fact, everything was wrong. I placed my hand on the tiny mound that had raised my abdomen just enough for me to notice a change. The diamond on my finger caught the light and reflected off the mirror in front of me. Mekhi loved me, but he was marrying me because I was pregnant. I knew that. He’d said we’d do it eventually, but there was no point delaying it since the trial was pending and the baby was coming. What he didn’t know was eleven weeks ago, I’d slept with not only him, but my ex-lover, Gregory Preston, and I had no idea which one of them was the father of this baby.
Part I
Angelina and Greg
The fool says in his heart, “There is no God.” ~
Psalm 14:1 (NIV)
Chapter 1
Angelina
“I can’t ever trust you again.” I slid the divorce papers across the table. “It’s over, Greg, just sign them.”
I watched my husband sit back and slump in his chair. “But—” he began.
“Don’t say it.” I waved a hand to cut him off. “It won’t matter.”
“But, I do,” he continued. “I love you. I want to work this out.”
Our waitress crept past us. Our menus were still open, so she continued to the next table. I supposed she’d assumed we still weren’t ready to order. Little did she know if any eating was going to happen, Greg would be doing it by himself. I wasn’t planning to stay around long enough to dine. I just wanted to meet in a public place so I could end the conversation on my terms, and so I wouldn’t be weak.
“Angelina, are you listening to me?” The velvety tenor of his voice pulled me from my thoughts. “I feel like this is more about Samaria than it is about me.” He pushed the papers back in my direction. “If it hadn’t been her—”
