Avenging Alex (11 page)

“What are you doing now?”

“I'm on my way home.”

“I'm going to go and have a little talk with Lorraine. Can I call you later?”

“John, please don't do anything that's going to make things worse.”

“Don't worry. I'll handle Lorraine.”

 

 

Anticipating a visit from her estranged husband, Lorraine sent the children to her parents. She was seated at the bar, working on her third martini, when John charged into the foyer.

“Lorraine!”

She closed her eyes and braced herself but didn't respond.

“What the hell is going on?”

She spun around to face him. “I'm having a drink. Would you care for one?”

“No, I don't want a drink. Tell me why you went to that boutique this afternoon and why you confronted Adriane Sullivan?”

“I had to get your attention somehow.”

John's jaw clenched and his nostrils flared. Lorraine stood and steadied herself before she walked over to him. She caressed his face and neck. He grabbed her hand and shoved her away. “You did this to get my attention? You had an affair to get my attention? Well, you got it, now what?”

“Now we put everything behind us and remember the things that brought us together in the first place. I want us to work, John. I'd do anything to make that happen.”

He shook his head and paced the room. “You're something else, you know that? This is bullshit.”

“If it weren't for that woman we'd be on our way back to each other right now.”

“You're deluding yourself, Lorraine.”

“I know what it meant when you kissed me. When you held me. When we—”

“Did you tell her that we slept together?”

“No, I didn't tell her that.”

“But you implied it?”

“You're still my husband.”

“Did you get her fired, too?”

“I simply told the owner of the boutique that I was taking my business elsewhere. If she fired the bitch it's not my fault.”

“You know damn well she's not the reason we're separated.”

Lorraine's eyes filled with tears. “How long are you going to punish me for that?”

“Is that what you think I'm doing?”

“You weren't there for us, John. You were hardly ever there. You made me feel like I didn't matter . . . like we didn't matter. Do you know how hard it was to watch you run off in the middle of the night on one case after another? Every time I heard a siren my heart would stop. Every time the phone rang and you weren't lying next to me I thought I was going to be told that something had happened to you.”

“I can forgive what you did. I can even understand it, but I can't forget it.”

“Because of her, right? Don't stand there and lie to my face, John. At least give me the courtesy of being man enough to tell the truth. Do you even know what that is anymore?”

“Dammit, Lorraine! Why in the hell are you trying so hard to hold on to something that you say caused you so much pain? Why can't you just admit what this is really about, huh? This isn't about how much you love me, or how much you need me. This is about winning and losing. Liam Reardon didn't raise his princess to lose out on anything to anybody. Well, this isn't some fucking beauty pageant!”

“I know this isn't a contest.”

“Then let's end this sham of a marriage so we can move on.” John sat down and buried his face in his hands.

“So you can move on . . . isn't that what you mean?” Lorraine wiped tears from her eyes and hesitantly moved to the sofa and sat next to him. “We've both made mistakes, but in spite of everything I don't want to let you go. If your family means as much to you as you say, there has to be a part of you that doesn't want to let that go either. I know your work is important to you, but is it more important than being an example to our children? You're only thirty-seven years old, John, and I believe you're still idealistic enough to go back to school. That was your dream. You can have that now.”

“Dreams change. People change.”

“What is it you're afraid of?”

“I'm not afraid of anything.” John pushed up off the sofa, went to the bar, and poured himself a shot of bourbon.

“The first time we met you were working security at one of my mother's parties and I made a joke about you being one of the best-looking rent-a-cops I'd seen. I flirted with you the entire night.”

“We've already been down memory lane more times than necessary.”

Lorraine stood up and faced him as he poured another shot. “You were working your way through law school. I fell in love with you because I believed in you. I believed in your dreams. I believed that you wanted to make something more out of your life.”

“I did make something out of my life,” John angrily fired back. “When I was a cop I was the best damn cop I could be. Now I'm damn proud of being a marshal. If you're so disillusioned then why can't you stop this?”

“Because I know how much I loved you then, how much I still love you.”

“Then you should also recall why I gave up that dream. You got pregnant. We got married—”

“And you've blamed me for it in one way or another ever since.”

“I stepped up and I took care of my responsibilities the best way I knew how.”

“You promised you'd go back to school. Daddy would be happy to—”

“I'm not taking another dime of Liam's money. God knows he would never let me live it down. He already holds this house over my head every chance he gets.”

“You paid him back.”

“That's not the point. It took every bit of what I saved and a chunk of my self-respect right along with it. But, this is my family and I decide how I choose to take care of them. Next to my kids, this job is the most important thing in the world to me.” John tossed back another shot, slammed the glass down on the counter, and walked toward the door. “We can have an amicable divorce. I may not be rollin' in it, but I told you before I would make sure you and the kids had everything you needed. There's no point prolonging the inevitable.”

“You weren't so damn eager to run off and get a divorce before Adriane Sullivan came along.”

“Lorraine, I want to be able to look at you again and not see you in bed with another man, but I can't. I know that my job has been hard for you to deal with and you'd rather see me in a suit working a nine to five, but that's not who I am.”

“I know who you are, John.”

“Do you? Or do you just see who you want me to be?”

“What is so wrong with that?”

“Nothing is wrong with that. But, there's absolutely nothing wrong with me. I like who I am, Lorraine. You can blame my job, you can blame Adriane Sullivan, hell, you can blame global warming, but we're not the same people we were before the kids . . . before the house. I didn't destroy what we had all by myself; we both had a hand in it. I'm not doin' this anymore. I'm done.” John tossed back another shot and grimaced. “I never pegged you for a martyr. Sometimes when something is broken it should just stay that way.”

“Happy Birthday, Mama.”

Jamilah's eyes lit up when she opened the decoratively colored foil paper. “Omolola, it's beautiful. It's so soft.” She rubbed the cashmere material of the sweater against her face.

“There's a skirt that comes with it, too.” Alex didn't have the heart to give her mother the stolen scarf, opting instead to keep it for herself and buy her mother something else.

“You shouldn't have done this, Omolola. You can't afford this now that you're not working.”

“Of course I can. We're not going to be in the poor house anytime soon. I have money in savings.”

“It's called savings for a reason. It's not that I don't appreciate it, but you don't need to spend your money on expensive things.”

“If I can't spend my money to buy you something nice on your special day I wouldn't be much of a daughter, would I?”

Jamilah hugged her. “This will be perfect for tonight.”

“Tonight?”

“Ade asked if he could take me out to dinner.”

“Oh.”

Jamilah laid the sweater and skirt aside. “I'm sorry. You didn't have plans, did you?”

“Well, I just thought I'd take you to dinner.”

“Oh, Omolola. I could call Ade. I'm sure he'll understand.”

Alex took her mother's hands. “You don't have to change your plans on my account. This is your day. You should spend it however you want. We can go to dinner another time. So, you and Ade, huh?”

“Don't say it like that, Alexandra.”

“Like what?”

“Like we're fooling around behind the high school bleachers.” Jamilah stood and moved to the mirror mounted on her bureau and fussed with her hair. “We're mature adults who enjoy each other's company.”

“Mama, I'm glad you found someone you could spend time with other than those biddies you play cards with.”

“They're not biddies.” Jamilah laughed. “Well, maybe Ernie Mae is.” She picked up the sweater and skirt, held it up against her body, and preened in front of the mirror. “Not bad for fifty-eight, eh?”

Alex stood up behind her mother and pulled her hair up away from her neck. “When I'm your age I can only hope to look half as amazing. Now, why don't we see if Miss Ernie Mae can look after Cerena while I treat you to a manicure and pedicure?”

“Omolola, you've done enough. You really don't need to do anything else for me.”

“I know I don't have to do it, Mama. I want to. Now don't argue with me. It's your birthday.”

 

 

In spite of the fact that Jamilah put up a fuss after luxuriating at the day spa, Alex managed to get her stylist to squeeze her in for a hair appointment. Several hours later Jamilah was primped and ready for a night on the town.

The doorbell rang.

“I'll get it.” With a quick glimpse out the window Alex verified that it was Ade. She greeted him and invited him inside. “Mama is just finishing up. She should be out shortly.”

“It is all right,” Ade responded. “I do not mind waiting.”

“Would you like to sit down?”

He unbuttoned his suit jacket and sat. “Hello, little one,” he directed to Cerena, who was sitting up in her playpen, chewing on a teething ring.

Alex noted how graceful, even gentle, he seemed for a man of his stature. “My mother tells me that you're from Nigeria?”

“Kandula. Very close to Abuja. My family came to the United States some years ago.”

“You recently lost your wife?”

“Yes, October, 2008.”

“I'm sorry to hear that.”

“Janette . . . your mother . . . has been a very pleasant companion. She is a charming woman.”

Jamilah made a show of her entrance. “My ears are burning. Is someone talking about me?”

Ade stood and nodded. “You are familiar with the Nigerian word meaning beautiful. It is
jamilah.
”

Alex looked at the surprise in her mother's eyes and interrupted. “Uh, before you go, let me get a picture.” She dashed to her bedroom for a camera and came back as Ade was hustling Jamilah to the door.

“Wait. Can I get a picture first?”

Jamilah adjusted her wrap and stuck her arm into Ade's, pulling him back into the room. Ade appeared apprehensive. “I usually do not like taking pictures.”

“Please,” Alex encouraged him.

“You're a handsome man, Ade. Just this one. For me,” Jamilah implored.

Jamilah beamed and Ade smiled nervously. He turned his head slightly and looked off when the camera clicked. Alex instantly showed them the scan from her digital camera. “See, that wasn't so bad.”

“Oh, Ade. You look like you've lost your best friend. It's just a harmless photograph. Come now, Omolola. Take another one.”

“No,” Ade said firmly. “We should be going if we are to avoid the traffic.”

Alex shot Jamilah a look, but didn't question Ade's resistance. She saw them to the door and waved good-bye.

Once Jamilah and Ade were gone she laid the camera down on the coffee table, reached into the playpen, and picked Cerena up. “All right, my girl. Now that
Nnenne
is out for the evening what do you want to do? Do you wanna go outside for a while?”

Cerena's indecipherable gurgles were taken as a yes. Alex grabbed a small cup of Cheerios from the cupboard and stepped out of the kitchen door that led out to an open patio. She sat with Cerena in her arms and fed her the snack. From her vantage point she could see the crest of the mountains to the west and the crimson glow of the sun balancing over the horizon like a giant air balloon.

“Do you think your father is looking at this very same sun right now?”

Her thoughts were interrupted and she was startled by the crunch of leaves and grass at the side of the house. She bounded from her lounge chair. “Who's there?” She listened to the stillness and crept closer to the door. “Is anyone there?”

Just as she was about to dart back inside two squirrels scampered across the yard and up the side of a tree. She heaved a sigh of relief and decided to go back inside anyway.

After getting Cerena cleaned, changed, and settled, Alex went to the kitchen to find something to eat. She opened the refrigerator and pulled out some cold cuts, mayonnaise, mustard, and pickles, and tried to carry them to the counter all at once.

“Damn,” she spat as the jar of mayonnaise slipped from her hand and splattered across the tiled floor.

Hoping the noise hadn't disturbed Cerena, she put the other items down, stepped around the broken glass, and grabbed a towel. Her nerves were rattled further when the doorbell rang. Abandoning the mess she crept close to the door. She wasn't close enough to see out the window or the peephole, so she just stood in the arch between the kitchen and dining room waiting for whoever it was to go away. A knock followed. Practically every light was on in the house and her car was in the driveway. She couldn't have pretended she wasn't home if she wanted to. Glancing around the room her eyes locked on the alarm panel being disarmed, and a lump formed in her throat.

“Adriane?”

She threw her head back and exhaled at the recognition of John's voice. Not giving thought to her appearance, she hurried to open the door.

“What have I told you about opening this door without verifying who it is?”

“You scared the shit out of me,” Alex countered nervously.

“I'm sorry. I was just driving through the neighborhood and I saw the lights on. I needed to see you.”

She flung herself into his arms and held on. “I'm so glad it's you.”

“What's wrong?”

“I've just been feeling a little jumpy tonight, that's all.” She released her hold and he stepped into the house after her. She secured the locks and set the alarm.

“Are you here by yourself?”

“No. Cerena's asleep. Weren't you supposed to be with your kids?”

“I was. I just dropped them off. I really didn't expect to find you home. I thought you said you were taking your mother out to dinner.”

“That was the plan. We spent the afternoon together, but she ditched me for Ade.”

“They're getting pretty serious.”

“Seems to be.”

“What is that smell?” John said, sniffing the air. “Is that mayonnaise?”

Alex wiped her hands on the legs of her jeans and brushed the hairs of a loosely tied ponytail back behind her ears. “I was making a sandwich and broke ajar on the kitchen floor. I must've gotten some on me. I need to get cleaned up.

“Go ahead.” He smiled. “I'll be here when you get back.”

John found a mop and bucket. While Alex went to clean up, he finished what she'd started. Twenty minutes later she came back into the living room, looking and smelling a sight better than she had been. She found John engrossed in the last quarter of a Lakers game. Neither his eyes nor his mind lingered on the game. He took her hand, pulled her into his lap, and they kissed.

“Hmmmm,” he sighed. “I've been thinking about doing that all day.”

“So have I,” she purred and inhaled the piney scent emanating from the kitchen. “You mopped?”

“All-purpose inspector at your service.”

“Oooh, I like a man who knows how to clean a house.”

He kissed her. “I know how to do a lot of things.”

“Yes, indeed you do.” She chuckled.

“I assume you still haven't eaten?”

“I had a salad for lunch.”

“Well, what do you say we order a pizza?”

“That sounds great.”

Alex located a delivery in the neighborhood and ordered. She then fixed herself a drink.

“Would you like one?”

“I'll take a beer if you have it.”

“I think there's a few Corona in the refrigerator.”

“Sounds good. So, how's the job search?”

She passed him a bottle of Corona and sat down next to him on the sofa. “I've got an interview at an art gallery in Glendale on Monday.”

“I didn't know you knew that much about art.”

“If I can sell clothes I ought to be able to move a few paintings.”

“I have no doubt you can do anything you put your mind to.”

Alex threw her head back in disgust. “Yeah, that's what got me into shit in the first place. I guess this is just karma biting me in the ass.”

John leaned in and kissed her again. “But it's such a cute ass.”

Alex smiled and playfully pushed him away.

John took a swig from the bottle and sat with his elbows resting on his thighs. “Do you miss it?”

“Miss what?”

“That world you lived in.”

“I miss the feeling of being in charge of my life,” Alex replied. “I miss the parties. The clothes. The celebrities. I was good at what I did.”

John sat back. “Selling drugs. Do you miss that, too?”

Alex shook her head. “I'm not gonna lie. The perks were pretty damn good. And sometimes it was as exciting for me as all of this is for you. In the beginning after Ray died I was scared out of my mind. I was a nobody. Then I met Xavier Rivera and all kinds of doors started opening up for me. I had my own business. I was traveling and I had money . . . I let my guard down when I got involved with Tirrell Ellis, but at least one good thing came out of all that mess. I have my beautiful baby girl.” Alex sighed. “Now, I've screwed up your life.”

John stared into Alex's eyes and pulled her into a kiss. “You haven't screwed up anything.”

“Liar. You never told me what happened when you went to see Lorraine the other day.”

“Other than the fact that I told her to back the hell off there wasn't a whole lot to it. She was singing the same old song about us getting back together, and me going back to law school.”

“Something safe?”

“Settling in and being a lawyer was cool before we had kids and the big house that I couldn't afford. But, I did what I had to do to support my family. I don't have any regrets about that.” John turned up the bottle and sucked down the Corona.

“Can I get you another one?”

“How about something a little stronger?”

 

 

By the time the pizza arrived and two drinks later, John had mellowed. He was even laughing about how much of a disappointment he'd been to Lorraine's father and her Irish Catholic upbringing.

“So, if her father thought you were beneath her why did he let the two of you get married?” Alex queried.

“Because Lorraine told him she was pregnant and he didn't want her to bring shame on the precious Reardon name.”

“Was she?”

“No. John Michael was born a year after we got married. Liam, her father, thought I put Lorraine up to the lie so I could get me hands on her Lucky Charms.”

Alex laughed at John's bad attempt to affect an Irish brogue. He was so charismatic. It was easy to see how Lorraine or any woman could fall so completely for him and lament losing him. And there it was again: that heartrending look in his soulful brown eyes. In that moment she intuitively knew of at least one unspoken regret. Locked away inside of him was the tarnished love he once had for Lorraine, and possibly still did regardless of what he said.

 

 

Ade's cell phone rang as he and Jamilah were finishing dinner. He blanched when he looked at the caller ID.

“Ade, is something wrong?”

“No,” he responded. “It's just my daughter. “Will you excuse me for a moment?”