Don't Tell A Soul (21 page)

My cell phone buzzes. It's Gretchen texting me. Mommy, Aria is here. TJ is sitting in her lap.

I slam the phone down with enough fury to rattle the table. “She's in my house.”

“Pam, don't jump to conclusions. . . .”

“He's got her in my house, playing with my son. I asked him to keep her out of my house.”

“But that's where his studio is,” Logan says.

I wish he would be quiet with his little defenses of Troy. “Can you just stop? Troy doesn't need your help!”

“I'm not trying to help him. I'm trying to help you. You're driving yourself crazy. I don't like seeing you this way.”

I stand up from the table. I can't take another kind word or pitiful glance from Logan. Plus, I need to call Taylor so we can go and get that chick up out of my house. I might be leaving Troy, but I haven't left yet.

“Thanks for hanging out with me, Logan, but I've got to go.”

“Do you need me to come with you? You're going to your house, right?”

I shake my head. Me showing up with Logan would be like throwing a match into a vat of gasoline. I suspect that Logan knows that, too, which makes me wonder about his motives.

“You want me to leave Troy, don't you?”

“I already said that I did,” Logan says.

“I don't know that I'm flattered.”

“It is what it is. Do what makes the most sense to you, and if that's leaving your husband, just know that you don't have to go far to find the next man in your life.”

I give Logan an unblinking stare. My mind travels back to the embrace we shared before we came into Starbucks. Those muscular arms, currently straining against the snug cotton fabric of his T-shirt, made me feel safe. I haven't felt safe in a long time.

I shake my head, jostling myself out of that quick fantasy. I don't know what the future holds anymore, because too many things have happened too quickly. But I do know that today I am married, so I put all thoughts of Logan's muscles out of my mind.

“Let me walk you to your car,” Logan says.

“No, don't get up. I want you to stay right here.”

Logan looks confused. “Will you be okay?”

“Yes. As soon as I get finished regulating.”

I walk out of the Starbucks on a mission. Two things I know are true. By the end of today, Troy will have to make a choice—his marriage or that heffa. I'm giving him one more chance to do the right thing. I can't let the night fall on this thing. I can't go to bed not knowing if my forever is through.

TAYLOR

 

 

 

 

W
hen my girl Pam told me to meet her at her house, because Troy brought Aria over as soon as she left, I got straight into the car, no questions asked. I mean, really? He must've been itching to get that tramp over there. He couldn't even respect Pam's wishes for one day? I have lost all respect for Troy, when I used to cheer for him to get his stuff together.

And Aria! I can't wait to get up in her face. I know I used to be a mistress, so I shouldn't judge, but it's one thing to wreck a happy home and quite another to sleep with a man who is going to leave his wife, anyway. Both are wrong, very wrong, but there's something cruel about what Aria is doing.

Oh, who am I fooling? Being a mistress is cruel business no matter the reason, no matter the marital status, because at the end of the day somebody is gonna get hurt. Adultery has got to be one of the most selfish sins there is. It was a true move of God that Yvonne was able to forgive me for what I did with Luke.

When I pull up to Pam and Troy's house, Pam is already storming toward the house, looking like a madwoman. I hurry to park so that she won't be going in alone.

“Pam!” I shout as I jump out of my car. “Wait!”

Pam spins around, and I get to see the look on her face. First of all, she's beet red, and the look of rage is unmistakable. She must've thought of nothing else but Aria being in her house all the way over here.

As Pam stands there waiting for me, I can see her chest expand and contract as she takes deep breaths. I hope that extra oxygen is calming her down, because she's making me think this is about to be an episode of
Snapped.

Pam points at Aria's car. “She's still here. She's gonna wish she wasn't.”

“I know, girl, but let's not lose it. We have to be strategic about this.”

“Strategic? My only strategy is to go straight upside Troy's head and snatch that weave out of Aria's head. Bringing her up in my house after I know the truth? If that ain't bold, I don't know what is.”

I hug Pam close and whisper, “Calm down, sweetie. Let God fight your battles.”

“You're right,” Pam says as she pulls away. “God give me the strength to whip Troy's behind.”

Obviously, I'm going to have to be the prayer warrior here. And later I'm going to have to remember to ask Pam why she smells like men's cologne. DKNY Be Delicious, in fact. It's a distinct scent that I like, but Spencer doesn't. And neither does Troy. Pam's been hugging on some other mister.

We storm up to the front door, and Pam whips out her key and walks in. We don't have to go far for the confrontation, because Troy and Aria are standing right in the foyer, laughing like they are the best of friends. Aria is wearing a pair of almost sheer black leggings and a fitted T-shirt. The outfit, even on her perfect body, looks obscene. She looks like she's about to turn a trick or flip around a pole or something.

“Pam!” Troy says. “This isn't what you think. Aria left the tracks she needs to practice here. . . .”

“What
does
she think, Troy? I know your wife doesn't think there's anything between us,” Aria interjects.

Troy's eyes widen, and he gives Aria a shut-up signal, which she totally misses, because she keeps talking.

“I do have a man, Pam,” Aria says. “Maybe one day you'll stop accusing me of taking yours.”

“I've never accused you,” Pam says.

“Not out loud, but you've always thought I was trying to hook up with your husband. I am too good for that. I don't want to share with someone else. Troy is here to get my music career off the ground. That's it.”

“So you're in the habit of screwing your producer for tracks?” Pam asks. “Because you're not about to stand up here and lie to my face.”

Aria turns to Troy. “What does she mean, Troy?”

“Just stop, Aria. She knows,” Troy says as he rakes his hand over his head.

“Yes, I know you slept with my husband.”

Aria, now looking a little bit uncomfortable, says, “That was a long time ago. I was young, and I—I wanted Troy to put my career first. I thought that if he loved me, he would.”

I say, “You can save that mess, girl. There is no excuse for what you did. You, either, Troy.”

“Ms. Pam, I am so sorry,” Aria says. “I never meant for you to find out, if that means anything at all.”

“It means nothing. Get out of my house, and never come back, unless you want my foot so far up your fake behind that you'll be hiccupping Nine West.”

“But what about . . . ?”

“Your music? We'll see about that. If Troy wants to throw away all these years of marriage and take you to Reign Records or wherever, then I guess you'll be hearing from him.”

Troy frowns. “How do you know about Reign Records? You left before I could tell you about that.”

Pam rolls her eyes. “Don't even think about questioning me. Aria, you got five seconds to get out of my house before me and my girl jump on your whorish self.”

Aria quickly looks from me to Pam, and I guess we look like we're about to stomp that tail, because she runs out of the house without another word to us or Troy.

Pam follows her out with a glare, sending all types of darts and daggers with her eyes. If I were Aria, I'd stay gone from here. Troy ain't all that, and if she can sing, then somebody else will help her blow up.

“What you gone do, Troy?” Pam asks.

“We already had this conversation, Pam. So if you aren't coming home to stay, you might as well go on back over to Taylor's house. Reign Records is about to make me a millionaire again. I'm not passing that up.”

“Then, since you about to make so much money, you better ask them for an advance so you can find a place to live, because you got to go!”

Pam's roar is so impressive that I believe her. I almost want to tell Troy he can come and stay over our house.

“I'm not leaving, Pam. This is my home as much as it is yours.”

“Do you want to leave in handcuffs?” Pam asks.

He narrows his eyes. “You wouldn't.”

“Yes, I would! Just like you would lay up with another woman.”

“Pam, the children!” Troy exclaims. “Do you think Gretchen and Cicely aren't listening?”

“Listening? Listening! How about what they
see?
Who do you think told me that Aria was here?”

Troy takes a moment to look at me and then Pam. “I don't want to lose you, Pam. You've got to believe that. I'm going, but it's not for good. I'm gonna make this up to you.”

“The only thing you can do is cut all ties with that girl.” Pam's words are so pointed and direct that I know Troy has to understand that she's dead serious.

“I can't do that, Pam.”

“Then go.”

Troy leaves with nothing. Not even an overnight bag. This is a man that plans on winning his wife back. I hope he doesn't think he can do it with money, though. My friend is a lot more complex than that.

“He'll be back, you know,” I say after I hear Troy's car pull out of the drive.

“I know. And if he won't do what I ask, he can leave again.”

“Pam, girl, is there something you want to tell me?”

Pam looks confused. “You already know all my business, and I guess Yvonne will, too. I've got to call her. I need all the prayers I can get.”

I pull Pam into Troy's study and close the door. I don't want any eavesdropping children to hear the rest of this conversation. Not if I'm wrong, but especially not if I'm right.

“What is it?” Pam asks.

“Why do you smell like men's cologne? Where did you go when you left my house?”

Pam lifts an eyebrow. “I went to Starbucks, and I ran into an old friend there.”

“Oh. I was just wondering if you had you a little something on the side, too.”

Pam's jaw drops. “I can't believe you would think that! I'm not like Troy. I'm not a cheater.”

“All right, girl. You know I was just checking, 'cause you are still a woman. You aren't a saint.”

“None of us are. Thank you for looking out for me.”

“You know I got you.”

On my way back to my car, I say a silent prayer for my friend.
Lord, protect Pam's mind, her heart. Don't let her block Troy out so soon, and please let Troy come to his senses. You can do the impossible. I've seen it. I'm trusting you to do it again. Pam doesn't deserve this pain. In the name of Jesus.

YVONNE

 

 

 

 

T
he thing I like best about teaching is that I'm free in the summers to do whatever I please. Some teachers complain about the salary, but it's just fine with me. I don't need much, and I'm perfectly comfortable. As long as I have enough to put together a Sunday dinner, then I'm all right.

Lately, I've taken to starting my day with a walk around the neighborhood just after dawn. My neighborhood is quiet, and I can get some meditation time in with the Lord. It's the perfect way to start my day.

This morning I open the door to my condo and find a bouquet of flowers. Yellow roses. I smile, knowing that they must be from Kingston.

I pluck out the little card and open it up, but as soon as I start reading, I drop the vase to the ground and it breaks in a thousand little pieces.

It's an invitation. To Luke's wedding.

Attached to the invitation is a note that reads.
This weekend I will remarry. I would love to see you there. We spent twenty years together. Not all of them good, but not all bad, either. If you came, I think it would go a long way in healing things between Taylor and me, because I want to be a part of my son's life. I will understand if you don't come, but I really wish that you would. In Christ, Luke

I notice that my hands are shaking uncontrollably. Why would he invite me to his wedding? He wants to continue tormenting me even now, eight years later. Once an abuser, always an abuser, my mama used to say. Too bad she didn't sniff it out in Luke when she and her biddy friends were busy setting us up. I hope his new wife doesn't have the same problems I had with him.

I look down at the mess on the ground and suck my teeth. Instead of walking, it looks like I'll be cleaning up. I go back inside, still shaking, and get a brown paper bag to get up the pieces.

On my way back out, my cell phone rings. I look at the caller ID and shake my head. It's Eva. This girl has a bad habit of calling at the crack of dawn.

“Hello, Eva.”

“Hi, Sister Yvonne. I hope I didn't wake you up. I know it's early.”

“I'm an early riser. What's going on with you this morning?”

“I just wanted you to know that I read that Scripture you told me about. The Samaritan woman. And it . . . well, it changed my life. I gave my life over to Christ on Sunday.”

“I am so happy for you, Eva. You made the right decision.”

After a long pause, Eva says, “You don't sound happy for me. I've messed up our friendship, huh?”

“It's not that. I promise I haven't even given that a second thought after you apologized. I've got something else weighing on my mind.”

“Oh, okay. Well, then, I'll let you get on with your day. Thank you for praying for me.”

Now I feel bad. She sounds so pitiful that I can't just leave it like this. “You know, Eva, salvation is sure something worth celebrating. Do you want to have breakfast?”

“Yes, yes, I would, but I don't want to come in the way of whatever you have planned today.”

I let out a small laugh. “Well, I was planning to take a walk, and that's . . . well, it's ruined, so why not breakfast with a friend?”

“Oh, thanks, Yvonne! It would mean a lot to me.” I can hear her smile through the phone.

“I'll pick you up in about twenty minutes, and we can go to Cracker Barrel. Sound good?”

“Yes. See you then.”

“Okay, see you in a few.”

I quickly clean up the glass and flowers from in front of my condo and toss Luke's invitation in the trash. I don't care what he's trying to accomplish with Taylor. I have no intention of being a part of it.

On the way over to Eva's apartment at the church, I call Pam to catch up. We haven't spoken since my date, and I want to tell her about everything Kingston said.

“Hello.” Pam's voice scares me. She sounds strange.

“Hey, girl. I wanted to tell you about the weekend. You up yet?”

“I'm up.”

“Kingston and I went to Cedar Point, and we got stranded in Put-in-Bay. We had to spend the night in a hotel's honeymoon suite, girl! Ain't that some mess? And we had the nerve to see Rhoda and Rochelle at the amusement park.”

No reaction from Pam.

“Pam?” I ask. “Did you hear what I said?”

“Uh, I'm sorry, Yvonne. A lot of stuff went on here over the weekend, but I am glad you had a good time on your date.”

I hear it in her voice. Something horrible has happened.

“Pam, tell me.”

First nothing, then sobs. Horrible, gut-wrenching sobs. “Troy's gone, Yvonne. I kicked him out.”

“What? Why?”

“He cheated on me with Aria. I asked him to cut ties with her, and he refused. So now he's gone.”

I feel so ridiculous sharing the details about my date when Pam is having the worst time ever with Troy. I always suspected there was more to that relationship than what Troy said, but I let it go for Pam's sake.

“You know God's gonna work this out, right?”

Pam chuckles. “That's what I told you when you found out about Taylor.”

“If it sounds half as crazy to you now as it did to me then, I'm going to be doing the lion's share of the praying.”

“Well, get to it, prayer partner. What are you doing right now?”

“Going to have breakfast with Eva. She gave her life to Christ on Sunday.”

“Oh, that's good. I'm glad for her.”

“You want to come along?” I ask.

“No, I'd be too much of a drag. But you have fun, though.”

I want to tell Pam about what happened with Eva, about how she kissed me, and how I don't feel 100 percent comfortable going out to breakfast with her. But I don't think I need to weigh Pam's mind down with anything else.

“Do you need me to come by later?” I ask.

“No. I'll be fine. I just need to spend some time with God.”

Finally, I pull into the church parking lot. It's surprisingly quiet at this time of morning since the staff doesn't show up until eight o'clock. Pastor and First Lady Brown usually get here at about ten, so the parking lot is nearly empty. There is one other car, one that I don't recognize, but it's not running, so maybe someone just parked out here. They do that sometimes when they go to the bar on the corner or the strip club down the street. We've even had to tow abandoned cars off the property.

I call Eva to let her know that I'm downstairs, and she sounds just as excited to be going to breakfast now as she was fifteen minutes ago. There's something about her that reminds me of a little girl wanting approval. I wonder what kind of life she had. It must've been crazy if she ended up doing pornography.

Eva emerges from the building's side entrance and starts jogging over to my car, waving the whole way. Then she sees the other car in the parking lot. A look of terror comes on her face. She stops in her tracks, spins, and runs back toward the church. Two car doors swing open, and big, very big, men jump out of the car and pursue Eva!

I don't know what to do, so I get out of my car and scream at the top of my lungs. Then I call 9-1-1.

“Help! I'm at New Faith on Kinsman. There are two men trying to attack a girl!”

I hear Eva scream, and I grab my umbrella from the backseat and run in her direction. One of the men has Eva in a headlock, and the other one kicks her in the stomach. I let out a war cry and charge at one of the men with the end of the umbrella. I make contact with the side of his head and hear something crunch.

Then everything goes black.