Authors: Suzetta Perkins
A veiled mask covered Angelica’s face.
“Please don’t pout, Angelica. Someone should have sat you down a long time ago and had this talk with you.”
“I’m a grown woman…”
“A grown woman who’s made a mess of her life, but with my help, is going to straighten it out. We’ll go back to D.C. first, and I’ll call our brother Michael to come join us.”
“Thanks, Edward. I love you, big brother. You are my saving grace, and I owe you big. Now let’s get out of here.”
“Yeah, here comes the manager.”
“Who’s going to pay for this,” the manager asked out of breath.
“He is,” both Angelica and Edward answered, pointing to Malik. “He got off easy,” Angelica continued, “since we didn’t get to order anything but a few drinks. How about you and me find a nice quiet place to eat?”
“You’ve got it.”
M
usic blared from the car radio. Puffed faces stained with tears looked straight ahead as Jefferson and Margo drove away from the restaurant.
“Why did you do it, Jefferson? Why did you rile up Malik and cause a scene that made us look like we weren’t intelligent beings? Wasn’t it enough that I said I didn’t love Malik, but I love you? And what was he talking about…you and Angelica were together?”
Jefferson kept his hands on the steering wheel and continued to look straight ahead.
“Answer me, Jefferson. I’m tired. I’m so tired. When I think I’ve gotten over a rough spot, here comes another speed bump.”
“You don’t understand, Margo.” Jefferson threw his hands up.
“Please put your hands on the wheel. I don’t want to die because
you
don’t understand.”
“This man was my best friend. We were closer than I am to my own siblings. Been knowing him since college, and we’ve shared so much of our life together. But he crossed the line. And the nigger had the nerve to think that I was going to share the one thing I held most precious with him. I should’ve killed him.”
“I hate that you and Malik are at each other’s throats. I can’t believe that it’s all come to this.”
“So, was he better in bed than me, Margo? Did you tell him how good it was or how happy he made you feel?”
“Shut up, Jefferson. You have no right.”
“I could’ve killed him tonight.”
“And prove what…that you’re a big man…that you were protecting your possession? Huh! Is that what I am to you, your possession?”
Jefferson’s fist hit the steering wheel and then he slammed his foot on the brake and screeched to an abrupt stop just as the light turned red. Tears began to form in his eyes and fell the length of his face. He looked like a grown-up teddy bear looking for someone to cuddle him.
“Stop that crying,” Margo huffed. “Those crocodile tears aren’t going to get me to melt after having endured tonight’s humiliating experience.”
“I wasn’t going to let Malik stand there and continue to disrespect you.”
“And expose your dirty laundry.” Margo shook her head and then released a long sigh. “You and Angelica deserve to rot in hell. You slept with her, didn’t you? Told me you didn’t, but you figured what I didn’t know wouldn’t hurt me. They say the truth always comes to the light.”
“That was a long time ago, Margo.”
“That was a long time ago, Margo,” she mimicked. “You were unfaithful, and I guess I’m supposed to forgive you of your sins as if nothing happened.” She snapped her fingers.
Jefferson sighed. “Does that make you feel better about what you did with Malik?”
“Don’t try and use reverse psychology on me.” Margo turned and looked out of the window. “Maybe if I had enjoyed it as much as Malik seems to think I did, maybe I’d feel better.”
Silence ensued. Jefferson took a chance and glanced at Margo.
Her head was leaning on the passenger door window with her eyes staring at the passing cars.
“Why don’t we get an ice cream cone?” Jefferson asked.
“Are you serious? We’re having a discussion about the rest of our lives and you want to get ice cream?”
“Yes.”
“I was thinking. What if Malik presses charges against you? Do you know what that means?”
“Let him, but I doubt seriously that he’d do it since he openly admitted that he had extramarital sex with you.”
It was Margo’s turn to sigh. “Let’s get ice cream. Maybe this nightmare will go away.”
They drove on in silence as contemporary jazz flooded the car. At the next light, Jefferson turned into the parking lot and drove through a maze of cars, finally bringing the car to rest.
“Cold Stone ice cream okay with you?” he asked Margo.
Margo pulled her face away from the window, turned to Jefferson and shook her head yet again. “You know it’s my favorite, so why did you ask me that silly question?”
“Hoping I would get a smile from you?”
Her head fell forward and then up. Plastered on her face was a great big smile. “What are we going to do? Our lives have become so complicated. We should be enjoying the best years of our lives—going to plays, concerts, lying out on the beach, but instead we’re bickering about who screwed who and which one of us screwed up the other’s life.”
“Margo, stop. I love you with everything I have. Woman, I know you don’t believe this, but I don’t care what you and Malik did. I want my wife back, the mother of my children and all my daydreams. I know we can’t start from the beginning, but we can
start fresh from this time forward, even if that means divorcing all the negative folks who have been a part of our lives. What do you say?”
Pinching her lips, Margo brought her hand to her face to hide the smile that was trying to get through. Doe-like eyes batted their lashes while she shook her face from side to side. “I guess that’s why I married you—you’re the only one who knows how to break me down. Pulled the shame right out from under me until there’s nothing left to say but I love you, too, you crazy, mixed-up man. My mother always told me to stand by my man, but I never knew it would be this hard. But I do love you.”
“Whew, I’m glad that ended well. I love you, too, girl. Now let’s go and get that ice cream. I want a pint of Chocolate Devotion,” he said in a sexy voice.
Like an action figure in the comics, Jefferson sprung from the car and ran around to open the door for Margo in a flash. He lifted her hand like he did so many years ago when Margo was a beautiful debutante at the ball. He bent his elbow and Margo put her arm through it, linking them together forever. They headed for the ice cream bar.
As if there were an invisible partition that didn’t allow them to move any farther, they stopped cold in their tracks. Their eyes shifted between a woman and a child that had exited the ice cream bar and were headed in their direction. Now only a couple of feet away, they also stopped and stared back at Margo and Jefferson.
“Jefferson, Margo…”
“Linda,” Margo responded, releasing her arm from Jefferson’s and dropping it to her side. She looked hard at the slightly tanned little boy who seemed to be about four or five years old. It wasn’t his cute crop of curly hair or his handsome good looks
that made Margo cringe, but rather his uncanny likeness to her eldest son J.R.
Jefferson refused to open his mouth. He was as astonished as Margo when he looked at the boy while avoiding eye contact with Linda. There was no denying it was his son and that Linda had gotten pregnant those many years ago. He felt the life rush out of him. Prison hadn’t been enough, because now he was truly reaping the consequences of his sins.
“Your son?” Margo asked when Linda said nothing further.
Linda glanced briefly at Jefferson and then back at Margo. “Yes, this is Jaylin. Say hi to these nice people, Jaylin.”
“Hello,” Jaylin said.
“Jaylin?” Jefferson mumbled. “Oh, God, what a mess I’ve made.”
“If you’re speaking of Jaylin, God doesn’t make messes. I think it’s pretty presumptuous of you to think he’s yours. He isn’t your child. Nice to see you both again. Come on, Jaylin, let’s get home before our ice cream melts.”
Linda grabbed Jaylin’s hand, stepped off the sidewalk and walked to their car without looking back. Suddenly, ice cream was no longer appealing to Jefferson and Margo.
THREE MONTHS LATER
Summer had come and gone. Leaves were beginning to turn along with the temperature, which dropped from a three-month stint of ninety-degree days to sixty-five. Healthy lawns prayed for a little rain, but Margo’s lawn begged for strangers to come and stake their claim as the new owner of the house on Andover Street.
Margo walked from room to room, remembering times past. She ran her fingers along the frame of the French doors that
separated the dining room from the kitchen. She moved into the room and looked through the floor-to-ceiling, beveled windows that gave a breathtaking view of the saltwater cove and beyond.
She turned and looked at the empty room where her beautiful dining room set with the French Empire chairs circling the table once sat. She remembered the last big Christmas meal she shared with her family and friends. Allen Myles, Sr. said grace in such an eloquent way. After grace, the others sat devouring the succulent turkey and ham she’d cooked, and then came the bad news that Blake Montgomery was dead.
Margo’s mind began to race as thoughts of Jefferson’s infidelity tried to consume her. Who would have thought her archenemy was her next-door neighbor, Linda, Blake’s wife? And now, to learn five years later that Linda had a baby by Jefferson was a bitter pill to swallow.
The memories were too many. She crossed back into the kitchen and then into the family room, stopping at the luggage parked in the doorway. A month-long trip to Europe was what she needed.
Almost as if her arm was ejected from its position, Margo reached for her head. She felt faint, dizzy, and lightheaded. She moved from the room and found the stairs that went to the second floor and plopped down on them.
The moment passed and she was on her feet again. She walked back into the kitchen, hit the answering machine that sat on the counter and listened to Angelica’s voice one last time.
Hey Margo, this is Angelica. Ari and I are doing great. We’re getting married—sometime next June. I haven’t been this happy in years. I sure hope you and Jefferson can come. It’ll be in New York. Call me sometime when you get a moment. I know you’re busy. Talk to you later.
The message over, Margo pressed the delete button. Opening a small portfolio, she pulled out a group of papers and fumbled through them.
“Boarding passes for London, Paris, and Germany; passport; and, ahh, separation papers.” She looked at the document long and hard and then rubbed her slightly protruding stomach with her hand.
“Jefferson,” Margo said out loud to no one, “you were right about divorcing all the negative people and things from your life. It frees your mind and helps you to see things much clearer. Thanks for that tidbit of good information. No more Angelica, no more Malik, no more Jefferson.” She put the papers away.
Prying herself away from her thoughts, she clutched the side of the counter as a wave of nausea hit her again. She rushed to the bathroom, leaned over the toilet and regurgitated. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand before turning on the cold water and splashing it onto her face. Turning the water off, she sighed and looked at herself in the mirror. “I had no desire to be a mother again at forty-eight years old, but I’ll be a good mother.”
Margo moved quickly to the family room and picked up her luggage so she could put it in the car. She took another glance around the house as far as her eyes could see. The house was empty now—empty of hope, false dreams, and empty promises.
There was no way she was going through another bad storm with a husband she had vowed to spend the rest of her days with because it would probably kill her, even though she was still very much in love with him.
Suzetta Perkins is the author of
Ex-Terminator: Life After Marriage, A Love So Deep
, and her riveting debut novel,
Behind the Veil
. She is also a contributing author of
My Soul to His Spirit
, an anthology that was featured in the June 2005 issue of
Ebony
magazine. Suzetta is the co-founder and president of the Sistahs Book Club in Fayetteville, North Carolina and is Secretary of the University at Fayetteville State University, her alma mater. Visit
www.suzettaperkins.com
and
www.myspace.com/authorsue
or email to
[email protected]
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