Ex-Terminator Life After Marriage (11 page)

T
he skyline was a canvas of orange, red and purple. Just behind the outline of a dogwood tree, the sun dipped on its descent beyond the horizon. Streetlamps illuminated the city, while men and women stepped into their favorite restaurants for a bite to eat.

Light jazz rippled through the Cadillac Escalade as Marvin and Rachel zoomed into the heart of Atlanta. Marvin took occasional glances at Rachel, while also keeping his eye on the road. Marvin made a right turn onto a quiet street and found a place to park. A small French restaurant hugged the corner of the block.

“
Oui, oui, monsieur
,” Rachel said, taking a stab at her French lessons of twenty years ago.

“Oh, we
parlez-vous Francais
,” Marvin responded.

“I love the French language. It is so romantic.”

Rachel and Marvin turned in each other’s direction and quickly turned away to disguise what their eyes were saying.

“Rachel, sweetheart, stay put until I open your door.”

“
Merci, monsieur
.”

French music met their ears the moment Marvin opened the door to the restaurant. Rustic, medieval trophies hung from the rafters and room-size lampposts were placed throughout, giving the room a feel of sitting in a sidewalk café. Conversations were muted, with the restaurant’s guests lost in their own Parisian fantasy, sipping Merlot and tasting the delicate garlic-infused escargot.

A dainty waitress met the couple and showed them to their table. They ordered a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon and sat a minute browsing through the menu.

“This is so cozy,” Rachel said.

Marvin eyed Rachel. “It certainly is.” He smiled.

Rachel placed her hands atop of Marvin’s. “I didn’t take you for French food.”

“Why, do I look like the country boy that I am?”

Rachel smiled. “No…well, maybe a little. You are so full of surprises.”

“I just know how to treat a woman. I grew up with a houseful of women—my mom and three sisters. My father was a hardworking black man who took his responsibility seriously. Oh sure, there were times when we had to go without, but we were a family, a wholesome family—something I hoped to have when I became a man and could afford to offer my wife the things she needed and wanted.”

“Where have you been all of my life, Marvin? I prayed for a man like you, but I guess God doesn’t hear a sinner’s prayer.”

“That’s not true. God hears everyone. You just didn’t give Him enough time to give you what you asked.”

“Hmph, you’re probably right. And so wise. Let’s toast.”

“To what?”

“To us…the beginning of a new day in our lives, the beginning of friendship and possibly love, and the beginning of the music that’s playing throughout my body.”

“You feel it, too?”

“A little flute, a little bass…”

“I feel a drum beating…ohhhhhhhh…it’s touching my soul.”

“I’m serious, Marvin.”

“So am I, Rachel. So am I.”

The waitress returned with the wine. As she poured, Marvin lightly tapped the edge of the table. Rachel closed her eyes and lifted her head toward the ceiling. She thanked God for this moment—the beautiful music, the universal language she defined as love that danced all around her. She dropped her face and opened her eyes to meet Marvin’s warm hazel gaze.

“I’m glad you like the place,” he said.

“It’s heaven, and I hope the food is as good. We better look at our menus before the waitress comes back.”

“I recommend—” Suddenly Marvin jerked his head to the right and back.

“Are you all right?” Rachel asked. “Something wrong?”

“No, no. I was about to say that the duck à l’orange is very tasty.”

“Duck is pretty close to chicken. That’s what I’ll have.” Rachel thought this first date was headed in the right direction, even though he seemed a bit distracted.

The waitress took their orders and Rachel poured herself another glass of Cabernet. She looked at Marvin, who had a puzzled expression on his face.

“Are you sure nothing is wrong?”

“I’m sure, Rachel.”

“We were talking and having a good time.”

“Yes, we were.”

“Is there something you need to tell me?”

“No.”

“It’s going to take some time, Marvin. You’re a good man and you deserve better. Ex-Files brought us together, and it’s going to help us get through our situations.”

“You’re right, Rachel.” Marvin picked up her hand and kissed her fingertips. “Did I tell you tonight that you’re beautiful?”

“Welllllll, you did, but, I could stand to hear it again.”

They laughed, then Rachel excused herself to the ladies’ room. “Don’t start dinner without me.”

Marvin watched as Rachel walked the length of the room and disappeared. He picked up his glass of wine and held it tight. His nervous gaze wandered around the room, grateful for the salad the waitress placed on the table.

“So, who is she?” the voice demanded as Marvin stabbed at his salad.

“I thought I saw you. What are you doing in Atlanta, Denise?”

“I’ve moved back. Tired of New York.”

“Moved back? To Atlanta?”

“Yes, to the A-T-L. Me and Danica, although Danica will be spending a lot of time with Harold.”

Flashbacks of Denise and Harold put salt on an old wound. For an instant, Marvin wondered if Danica looked like Denise or Harold. Danica might even favor him since he and Harold were first cousins. Marvin shook the thoughts from his mind, hoping he could make Denise disappear for good.

“So you’re already passing the baby off.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I do know that you probably would have been an unfit mother for our child, if we had had one. I am blessed not to have crossed that river.”

“Don’t insult me, Marvin. It won’t change a thing.”

“You’re right, so…”

“Look, I actually came to Atlanta to talk to you.”

“Don’t go there, Denise.”

“Please. Let me finish before you pass judgment on me.”

“All the pleas I made that fell on deaf ears—too late now.”

“Because you’ve found someone else to carry your seed?”

“You are so tacky, Denise.”

“Well, that’s what you always wanted, wasn’t it, Marvin? A baby? A nice little family?”

“I’m sorry that I didn’t recognize from the beginning that you were not my soul mate.”

“You couldn’t resist me.”

“I resist you now, and you better leave before Rachel comes back to the table.”

“Rachel…is it? I wonder what Ms. Rachel would think of you if she knew that this was
our
favorite restaurant? Didn’t have enough intelligence to find one of your own.”

As Rachel approached the table, she watched as he spoke with a petite and beautiful woman who stood over him.

“Is this your ghost, Marvin?” Rachel asked. “She looks nothing like me.”

“You’re quite right,” Denise exclaimed. “Know this, Rachel, the ghost wants her husband back.”

Rachel huffed and looked Denise dead in her eyes. “You won’t get him. Know
that
.”

Denise stormed off with egg in her face. Marvin glanced at Rachel, whose music had faded. It was replaced with red-hot coals that exuded ninety-degree heat. They sat there and said nothing. Marvin twitched uncomfortably in his seat. The waitress brought their food.

“I’m not hungry,” Rachel said.

S
ylvia pulled the covers over her head. Andreas was massaging the length of her body. Not a muscle in her body was left untouched. Sylvia lifted her arms to lasso his neck and bring him to her, but his image faded along with the good feeling that had overcome her.

The room was pitch-black, just the way Sylvia liked it. Darkness was her security blanket against the evils of the world. She had learned to live alone but every now and then a small sound—the wind blowing through the trees, a squirrel scampering over the roof of the house—got her on edge, especially in the absence of any protector.

The bedspread shifted left, then right before sliding to the floor.

“No, don’t go, please don’t go,” Sylvia cried out. “What did you say, Adonis? I know I didn’t hear what I thought I heard.”

“I want a divorce, Sylvia. I can’t say it any plainer than that.”

“But why, Adonis? When did you decide this? I didn’t know that our marriage was in trouble.”

“That’s the problem with you. You’re always too busy to notice what’s going on right under your nose. Too busy, too busy, too busy, too busy. Think you’re better than everybody else; and—if you remember before we got married—I told you I didn’t like fat women.”

“I’ll get on the treadmill tomorrow, I promise, but can we talk about this…try to work it out? We have invested so much of our lives into this marriage. Our daughter, what is she going to think?”

“Sylvia, I’m unhappy. I’ve been unhappy a long time, and now it’s
my
time. I’ve got to go.”

“But…but…but what about me?”

“What about you?”

Sylvia sat up straight and wiped the sweat from her face, panting, trying to place the strange sound that had awakened her. “Damn, the phone. What time is it?”

She reached for the phone and looked at the clock. It was eleven-thirty p.m.

“Sylvia, I hope I didn’t disturb you,” Ashley said.

“No,” Sylvia said as coherently as she could.

“William wants to come back home.”

“Isn’t that what you wanted?” Sylvia blinked furiously, trying to gather her wits.

“I thought I did. But things have changed. He now knows I’m pregnant.”

“What? How?”

“Last week when Claudette and I went to my doctor’s appointment, guess who we ran into?”

“I’ll take a wild one—William.”

“Correct. A crazy thing happened on the way to the doctor. William was there with his girlfriend.”

“Please don’t tell me she’s pregnant with William’s baby.”

“Right again.”

“Jesus! What an ugly mess. Why are you just now telling me about this?”

“I don’t know. Claudette has been very supportive.”

“So the two of you have bonded?”

“Yes, and she was going to kick William’s ass when he said that he was having a baby with that wretched woman.”

“Oh, girl. What are you going to do?”

“There’s more. The girlfriend lost the baby this morning. Now he wants to come home. Can we have an emergency meeting of the group? I’m desperate. I need to talk this out.”

Beep, beep.

“Hold on one minute, Ashley. Don’t go anywhere.” Sylvia clicked over to the new call. “Hello?”

“Sylvia, this is Rachel. I’ve got to talk to you now. Can I come over?”

“What’s wrong, Rachel?”

“My date tonight…it went sour.”

Like you and Ashley are the only ones with issues,
Sylvia thought. “I’m so sorry, Rachel. I thought Marvin—”

“He’s a good man, Sylvia, but…”

“Hold on a moment, Rachel. I have Ashley on hold; she’s got problems, too.”

“Is she all right? It’s not the baby, is it?”

“That and a whole lot more.”

“Look, talk to Ash. We need to have a meeting. We ran into Marvin’s ex-wife at
their
restaurant.”

“What do you mean ‘their’ restaurant?”

“You heard me. Think about it a moment. Arrange that meeting because I need to talk to somebody, preferably without Marvin being there.”

“Okay. Ashley wants a meeting, too. How about tomorrow after church? About three o’clock?”

“That’s fine. Everyone can come to my house. I’ll call Mona.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. No Marvin, though. Give Ashley my love.”

“Okay, sweetheart. It’s going to be all right, Rachel. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Click.

Sylvia took a deep breath before switching back to Ashley.

“Sorry, Ashley, that was Rachel. It sounds as if everyone is overdue for a meeting. Can you come to Rachel’s house tomorrow at three o’clock?”

“That’s fine. I’ll call Claudette. I’m sorry to have disturbed you.”

“It’s okay, Ashley. I was wide awake. Try and get some rest. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Sylvia.”

Sylvia sat in the middle of the bed with her knees pulled up to her chin. She needed to talk to someone as well, but she had to be there for Ashley and Rachel. Putting other folks’ needs before her own seemed to be the story of her life. It might sound selfish, but wasn’t that why she started the support group—to get help for
herself
?

Well, she still needed to talk to someone. She clicked the phone back on and dialed the numbers.

“Hello?”

“Kenny, it’s Sylvia. Can you come over? I need you.”

F
or those anxious to get a good word under their belt to carry them through the week, today was Sunday. Sunday was the day people went to church to get the blessings God had set aside for them. Sunday was the day to get your praise on for all of His goodness and mercies that kept you from an early grave. This was the day that the Lord had made, rejoice and be glad.

Right here, right now, on this Sunday morning, Sylvia felt like shouting. She left Kenny in bed to get the sleep she’d deprived him of. A nice breakfast of eggs, bacon, grits and Belgian waffles would be a great reward for coming to her rescue. Something else nagged Sylvia. She was falling in love or maybe it was a figment of her imagination. She wasn’t sure, but there was some kind of chemistry brewing.

Fresh coffee brewed in the pot brought Kenny to the kitchen. “Smells awfully good in here; I could definitely use a cup of coffee.”

“One cup of coffee with cream and sugar coming right up.”

“This feels so right, Sylvia.”

Sylvia turned and faced Kenny. She smiled but didn’t say anything. Sylvia flinched at the sight of him and looked away to regain her composure.

“I’m willing to wait. Didn’t I share your bed last night? And nothing happened? I didn’t even complain.”

“You were here to listen…help me get through the night.”

“And you did, baby. Now, how about that coffee? And what else do you have in here?” Kenny asked as he stepped completely into the room, his taut muscles rippling on his bare chest.

This man was fine, and whatever Kenny Richmond had done in the past was now forgiven. She took the towel that was in her hand and wiped her face. When she looked up again, Kenny had on her black-and-white polka-dot robe. How he’d managed to retrieve it from the bedroom that fast was a mystery.

“Sit down,” Sylvia admonished, giggling. “You’re going to have a real breakfast.”

“Oh, you’re going to hook a brother up. I’m telling you, I could get used to this real fast. That cat messed up—oops. Sorry, Sylvia. Didn’t mean to bring up your ex.”

With hands on her hips, Sylvia walked to where Kenny was standing. “It’s okay. Adonis had it coming. Now hold me, Mr. Richmond. Don’t let go until it’s time for me to get ready for church.”

“Church? You’re going to church?”

“My flesh wants me to stay here, but the Lord is calling my name.”

“My flesh wants you to stay,” Kenny murmured.

“You can go to church with me,” Sylvia replied.

“Maybe another time. In the meantime, don’t let the devil get in the way.”

Kenny drew her close to him and held her in a warm embrace. Their eyes met, then their lips, gingerly tasting each other. Their bodies touched and Sylvia could feel Kenny through her flimsy gown. She wasn’t fooling God. He was a know-all, see-all God.

A flood rushed through her body, and she knew that she should move away. Kenny’s hands roamed her body like he owned her, taking control of the buttons that tapped into her emotions. Sylvia tried to resist, but she was weak. She had to get to church. She couldn’t miss this appointment with Pastor Goodwin after missing the one on Thursday.

Kenny pressed buttons and Sylvia responded. She held on as Kenny examined and explored, testing her endurance and raising the bar. Fingers tore at the sides of her panties, while her negligee lay on the tiled floor. Moans of pleasure escaped from Sylvia’s mouth. Kenny smiled and opened his eyes.

“Oh, Sylvia. We’re going to burn the house down!” Kenny ran to the stove to put out the fire under the pot of grits that had boiled over onto the stove.

“My God,” Sylvia wailed. “What is wrong with me?”

“Too late to call on God. You should have been getting ready for church.”

“Shut up, Kenny. It’s all your fault.”

“The kitchen didn’t burn down, and you can still make it to church on time. I’ll admit, Sylvia, I wanted you bad, but not at the expense of losing everything. Dinner later?”

“Much later. We’re meeting over Rachel’s house after church. Some of the sisters need to talk. Thanks for coming to my rescue.”

“You’re welcome. Now what were you wearing last night that made you smell so delicious?”

“You mean my Warm Spirit mango soufflé?”

“Whatever you call it. It messed a brother up. It was hard to concentrate on what you were saying and very hard to be that close to you without…well, you know what I’m trying to say. If you’re trying to live right, don’t invite a brother to come and talk to you in the middle of the night, in your bedroom, drenched in mango soufflé.”

“So everything that I was saying to you last night or early this morning, whichever it was, fell on deaf ears.”

“I’m a good listener.”

“I bet you were.” Sylvia grinned. “I do owe God an apology, though.”

“For letting the devil use you to get me to come over?” Kenny kissed Sylvia.

“Kenny, I was having a terrible nightmare about Adonis, and I couldn’t—”

“So why were you smelling sooooooo good?”

“Get out,” Sylvia said jokingly. “Put some clothes on because you’re going to church with me.”