Ex-Terminator Life After Marriage (6 page)

M
arvin’s testimony zapped all the strength that was left in everyone’s body. Well, almost. Claudette had enough strength left to make it to the patio to light up a cigarette and get in a few puffs. Various conversations about the evening’s events were taking place, but Marvin had put his coat back on and was ready to bid good night.

Someone tapped his shoulder and he turned around to look into Rachel’s face.

“You’re still in love with her, aren’t you?” Rachel asked.

“Why do you ask?”

“I noticed you’re still wearing your wedding ring.”

“My heart says I do, but every time Harold’s nude body flashes in front of me, I turn into a madman. It’s hard, though, to just forget the good times we shared as husband and wife—even when infidelity’s involved. I read my Bible daily, and I was willing to forgive her, Rachel, but Denise thought it would be better if we dissolved the marriage…she was pregnant with Harold’s baby.”

Rachel’s face turned from calm to anguish. Her mouth gaped open, but no words came forth. Finally she was able to say, “So, are your wife and Harold together?”

“No, they aren’t. I find little comfort in knowing that. Every now and then my sisters give me little tidbits they hear since I bought out Harold and fired him from the company. I have not heard anything about Denise or her baby. If I never see Harold again, I’ll be fine.”

“I want to thank you all for coming tonight,” Sylvia said. “I’m sure it wasn’t quite what you expected, but it has done me so much good to talk. I hope you feel the same way. We need to meet once a month and chart our progress. If you want to get together in the meantime, I’m open.”

“Let’s have a ‘ladies’ day at the spa,” Rachel cried out. She turned and looked at Marvin. “I didn’t mean to leave you out; you can go along with us.”

He chuckled.

“That sounds like a nice idea, but I’ll pass on the spa. I do have a suggestion, though. Maybe we can do a ski trip this winter. We have five months to plan.”

“I don’t ski,” Claudette said.

“I don’t, either, but I’d like to try,” Rachel said. A sly grin crossed her face.

“I love to ski,” Ashley interjected. “I won’t be able to do any skiing because of the baby, but I’m all for going.”

“I think that’s a great idea,” Sylvia said. “What about you, Mona?”

“Whatever the crowd wants to do, I’m in.”

“Marvin, if you check on the location, cost for transportation and hotel, I’ll do the rest,” Sylvia said. “Is everyone in?”

“Yes,” everyone agreed.

“When are we doing the spa thing?” Ashley asked.

“How about two Fridays from now? We’ll take off from our jobs and make it our day,” Rachel said.

“I have a doctor’s appointment that day,” Ashley replied. “But I could still join you later in the afternoon.”

“No,” Sylvia said. “We can change it to another time.”

“You go on and tell me how it is,” Ashley pressed.

“I can’t go, either,” Claudette said. “Fridays and Saturdays are my busiest days at the shop.”

“Okay, everybody. We have a ski trip and a spa day in the works. Now let’s
exhale
and close the files for tonight,” Sylvia said.

Everyone thanked her for a great evening. Under the commotion of good-byes, Marvin asked Rachel, “May I walk you to your car?”

Rachel grinned.

A
brilliant sun shone in the spring sky just as the weatherman proclaimed. Temperatures in the high eighties and low nineties were predicted for the week and air conditioners would be working overtime, although it wouldn’t officially be summer for another two weeks.

Sylvia jumped up from the table with the last of her bagel still in her mouth and an empty coffee cup on the table. She stretched her arms upward to the left, then the right and brought them down slowly in front of her, exhaling as she did. She lifted her arms again and locked them together, twisting her torso from side to side. When she finished her stretches, she walked to the small TV that sat on the brown granite island that sat in the middle of her spacious kitchen.

The kitchen was a mauve color with black and granite marbleized tiles creating a border between the black electric appliances and the large oak cabinets that adorned the walls. The kitchen boasted a large pantry, large enough for four adults to fit inside.

Sylvia had enjoyed whipping up gourmet meals for her husband in this kitchen, but today was not about him. For the first time in a long time, Sylvia felt rejuvenated. Last night’s meeting had been a success. It had made Sylvia rethink her present state of mind. Hate, anger and distrust now had been replaced with joy, jubilation and rebirth—blessings.

T. D. Jakes’ voice came from the TV. She sat down and brought one foot onto the chair and hugged her knee as she listened. She found him captivating and hung on to his every word. He admonished husbands and wives to love each other as Christ loved the church. Love begets love, and when you reward each other you honor God. Sylvia looked away. Then T. D. Jakes’ voice rose to a crescendo. “Women, men who have been betrayed, mistreated, let down, and kicked to the curb by love, get up now and raise your hands toward Heaven, for you have been loosed to love.”

Sylvia jumped up from her seat and raised her hands. “I’ve been loosed to love,” she repeated over and over. “I’ve been loosed to love.” Again, she felt the high she had experienced the night before. No more pity parties for her. She had just been given the key to new life, new hope and possibly new love if she’d just believe.

“I’ve got to get up from here and go to church,” she said with enthusiasm.

Turning off the television, she looked at the digital clock on the microwave. It was ten a.m. She had enough time to make it to Mt. Calvary. Sylvia ran through the shower and put on a loose-fitting, rose-colored, silk chemise and a matching long jacket. A pair of Joan and David rose-colored pumps completed the outfit. She swung her hair from side to side, pleased with Arial’s work. Sylvia applied makeup, took one last look and started to get Adonis’ approval out of habit. She threw her hand forward to dismiss that thought, and walked out of the door.

Her neighbor, John Hendricks, was mowing his lawn when she exited the house. He nodded in approval. Sylvia smiled back and climbed into her BMW, showing more thigh than she intended. Mr. Hendricks continued to smile until Mrs. Hendricks wandered into the yard with a pair of gardening shears, catching Mr. Hendricks’ attention. Sylvia laughed to herself. Old Mr. Hendricks couldn’t do anything for her even if he was younger and single.

Church was dismissed, and Sylvia was still in good spirits. The pastor’s sermon, “Don’t Let Satan Steal Your Joy!” was still on her mind. She got in her car, waved to a few acquaintances and drove away.

Now that she was on her natural high, she wondered what she would do with the rest of the day. Her daughter, Maya, was still playing newlywed with her husband, Carlos, so this was not the time to be around them. She could stop by her parents’ house, but her mother would get on her nerves ten minutes after she arrived.

She continued to drive and as she saw the after-church crowd—families five to six deep—pile into restaurants for their lunch, loneliness began to tug at her heart. Just at that moment, the pastor’s message flashed by on a marquee in her subconscious: “Don’t Let Satan Steal Your Joy!”

“It is resolved,” she said aloud. “I’m going to fix myself a great meal and enjoy my own company.”

Sylvia crinkled her face. There was nothing in her refrigerator except for last night’s leftovers, and she didn’t want that. She saw a Food Lion and pulled in. There were others dressed in Sunday frocks migrating to the store for a last-minute item they had forgotten to get to complete Sunday dinner; Sylvia felt she was in good company.

Sylvia looked in the rearview mirror and applied a tad bit of lipstick. She always had to look her best. She slid her tongue across her teeth for extra measure and, finding that all was well, got out of the car and headed for the store.

Colorful vegetables drew Sylvia in. Ogling over them, she touched each one as if it were a cashmere sweater or a pair of Prada boots. Yellow and white onions; red potatoes, sweet potatoes, baking potatoes, white potatoes; romaine and iceberg lettuce—so many varieties to choose from. She had forgotten how many since she ceased shopping the day Adonis walked out of her life. She’d been relying on takeout. That was about to change because she deserved to treat herself to the best, whether she cooked or a handsome gentleman offered to take her to the restaurant of her choice. She picked up some fresh broccoli and put it in her cart.

Clickety-clack
went the shopping cart as Sylvia glided through the store like she owned it. She rolled past the pork section, the poultry section and stopped in front of the beef section and picked up several porterhouse steaks and a filet mignon. She examined them, finally settling on the filet mignon.

She wheeled the cart forward, headed for the steak sauce. She moved down the aisle as if she were on a mission and nearly bumped into her pastor.

“My, Sister St. James, we’re in a bit of a hurry,” Pastor Orlando Goodwin said.

“I’m so sorry, Pastor. My mind was on what I needed at the moment so I could hurry up and get out of here. I really enjoyed the sermon this morning.”

“Well, thank you, Sister. And how have you been doing? I haven’t talked with you much, especially since your divorce.”

“I’ve been doing pretty good. I have a support group that started, and I think it’s going to be a great help to me as well as others.”

“Umm, a support group for divorced women. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but quite a few of our young people are opting for divorce instead of trying to make a go of their marriage. It’s so sad.”

“I know. Marriage doesn’t seem to have the same staying power it did in our parents’ generation.”

“You’ve got me to thinking. I’d like for you to stop by my office next week. Call my secretary, Louise, and make an appointment. I think you can be an asset to the young women in our church.”

“Okay, Pastor. I’ll do that. Have a good day, and give my regards to Sister Goodwin.”

“I will.”

Sylvia watched Pastor Goodwin until he wheeled his cart off the row. A smile illuminated her face as she stood in the middle of the aisle digesting his request.
He’s going to ask me to start a support group at church,
she thought. She barely had her own life together, but if this was God’s way to help her through her trials, she was going to let Him help. She felt good and wheeled her cart to the frozen food section.

“Dessert to top it off,” she said aloud to no one.

Sylvia leaned over the refrigerated bin and pulled out a Turtle Pie—full of calories and chocolate.

“Dessert would be nice,” came a familiar voice that made Sylvia nearly topple over into the bin.

Catching herself, Sylvia turned in the direction of the voice and saw the finest piece of hard chocolate candy standing in front of her. He wore a white Armani suit and a white fedora sat on his head. His eyes were hidden behind a pair of dark glasses, and his sexy smile was framed by a neatly trimmed mustache.

“Excuse me?” Sylvia asked in a much too sexy voice.

“I like dessert, Sylvia.”

“No, it couldn’t be.”

“I’m surprised you don’t recognize my voice. The familiar will always be the familiar.”

“All right, enough of the psychology lesson,
Kenny
. I’ve got to finish my grocery shopping.”

“How are you doing?”

“I’m doing okay.”

“How’s that husband of yours? What’s his name?” Kenny snapped his fingers.

“Adonis,” Sylvia snapped.

“Yeah, yeah…cat from up North. Adonis. Strange name for—”

“That’s enough, Kenneth.”

“Well, how are you and your old man doing?”

“We aren’t.” Kenny stood at attention. “We have been divorced for awhile.”

Kenny ran his eyes over Sylvia’s body once again. His staring made Sylvia a little uncomfortable.

“I was wondering why a man would have his beautiful wife out shopping for food on a day like today. If you were my woman, we’d be sitting in a nice restaurant sipping on our second glass of Chardonnay, waiting on our steaks.”

Sylvia stood still with a smirk on her face and hand on her hip as she listened to Mr. Kenneth Richmond spout out what he would do and what she shouldn’t being doing.

“And I guess you aren’t with anybody since you just happen to be in the store, also, Mr. Richmond.”

Kenny laughed. “Busted. You look well…uhhh, more than well.”

Sylvia shifted and placed her hands on the handle of her cart.

“You in a hurry? It’s been…what…twenty years since I’ve seen you?”

“Yes, I am in a hurry.”

“To go where?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“Slow down, my love. Just excited about seeing you after all this time. I just returned to the city a little over a month ago. Ran into Rachel’s ex, and he gave me the rundown. You sisters know how to run men out—of town.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. I did everything I could to keep my man happy and at home, but he wanted to fly. There was nothing left to do but let him go.”

“I’m really sorry to hear that, Sylvia. He doesn’t realize the treasure he left behind…just like I did so many years ago.”

“Let’s not go there,” she snapped.

“Look, since we are both by ourselves, why don’t we do dinner?” Kenny suggested.

“I don’t know. I don’t think it would be a good idea.”

“Aw, come on. What harm could come of two old friends sharing a meal? You and I were good once.”

“No, we weren’t, Kenny. You know we weren’t good for each other.”

“I do know that this is another place in time. A beautiful woman is standing in front of me—a woman I’ve adored and would like to get the opportunity to know again. I would love to take you for a nice seafood meal at Pappadeaux. If I remember correctly, you enjoy Cajun seafood,” he said in a wheedling tone.

“Your memory serves you correctly.”

“It’s settled then. There’s no need for you to spend money on a meal that you would have been eating alone.”

“I don’t know.”

“What’s to know? I’m single; you’re single; we’re both hungry. That equates to two people having a good meal at a nice restaurant.”

Sylvia hesitated, then sifted through the items in her basket. She lifted her head and her eyes met Kenny’s head-on. Not that the offer of dinner wasn’t tempting or those sumptuous eyes uninviting, but visions of the old Kenny loomed before her—the one who had broken her heart into a dozen pieces.

As if he knew what she was thinking, Kenny moved closer and lifted her chin with his hand. “I’m not the same person from twenty years ago. I’ve matured and learned how to treat a lady.”

Sylvia smiled, still not wanting to let down her guard. She put the cheesecake back into the bin and turned to Kenny.

“I’ll meet you at Pappadeaux in twenty-five minutes.”

“Great, I can’t wait. And Sylvia? You look good, girl.”

Sylvia stared into Kenny’s eyes. Her head was telling her that she should get her groceries and go home, but against her better judgment, her heart said Kenny was a better alternative to being by herself today.

“I just want you to know, Kenneth, that having dinner with you is just that—two old friends sharing a meal,” she said firmly.

“That’s fine with me, but it’s my treat.”

Releasing a small amount of air from her lips, Sylvia turned on her heels and headed out the store, but not before turning around to see her old lover admiring the view. Kenny was going to be the death of her yet—even after twenty years. She smiled and walked out of the store.