The Church Bake Sale Had a Side Chick Table

Our church bake sale was supposed to raise money for new choir robes. Instead, it raised questions, blood pressure, and one very public discussion about banana pudding. There is a man at church everyone calls Brother Mike. Brother Mike is married to Sister Denise. They sit on the third pew, hold hands during prayer, and post anniversary pictures every year with captions about covenant love. Brother Mike also apparently had what he called a “special prayer partner.” Her name was Tammy. Tammy had recently started coming to church more often. She volunteered for things nobody asked her to volunteer for. She laughed too hard at Brother Mike’s jokes. She once told Denise, “You are so blessed to have a man with such a servant’s heart,” which is the kind of sentence that sounds nice until you realize it has fingerprints. Nobody knew for sure. Then came the bake sale. Denise brought her famous banana pudding. It is a big deal. She makes it in a glass dish, layers it perfectly, and guards the recipe like it contains nuclear codes. Tammy also brought banana pudding. Same glass dish. Same Nilla wafer crumble. Same little whipped cream peaks. Denise saw it from across the fellowship hall and stopped walking. Her friend touched her arm like people do before a tornado. Denise walked over and said, “That’s interesting.” Tammy smiled and said, “Mike loves my pudding.” There are moments when a room becomes silent because everyone knows God is watching but nobody wants to miss the fight. Denise picked up a spoon, tasted Tammy’s pudding, and said, “It is missing commitment.” An usher coughed so hard he had to sit down. Tammy said, “Some people prefer it sweet.” Denise said, “Some people prefer things that belong to other women.” Brother Mike appeared out of nowhere looking sweaty and underprepared. He said, “Ladies, this is not the place.” Denise turned to him and said, “Where is the place, Mike? Her apartment? The parking lot? The prayer closet?” That last one caused three deacons to physically turn around. Tammy said, “You told me you were separated.” Denise laughed. Not ha-ha laugh. Villain origin laugh. She said, “Separated from what? Accountability?” Brother Mike kept trying to calm everyone down. He reached for Tammy’s arm. Denise saw it. The entire bake sale saw it. Even the children selling brownies knew they had witnessed confirmation. Then Denise asked the question that ended him. “Which pudding are you buying?” Brother Mike looked at both dishes like he was choosing between execution methods. He said, “I do not want drama.” Tammy said, “You did not say that Thursday.” An usher knocked over the lemonade dispenser. Pastor ended the bake sale early and announced they would “reconvene in a spirit of grace.” The next Sunday, his sermon was called “Private Sin, Public Receipts.” The choir robes did not get fully funded. The banana pudding committee has been suspended indefinitely.