Flawfully Wedded Wives (4 page)

—
Angel King

 

“The patient in room four has been evaluated, and he's resting,” Angel reported to the patient representative at the front desk, removing her stethoscope. “And I'm going on break. I'll be back in fifteen minutes.”

“You look exhausted, honey,” the woman replied. “If you're not careful, you're going to end up in one of these hospital rooms yourself.”

Angel yawned. “It's three o'clock now. Only five more hours to go. Hopefully, I can get in at least two hours of sleep before church.”

The woman at the front desk shared an encouraging smile. “Hang in there. It gets easier.”

Angel sighed, struggling to keep her eyes open. Working twelve-hour shifts at the urgent care center was not how Angel envisioned spending her weekends, but it was the only way to make payroll for her small staff and pay bills for the time being.

Walking toward the snack machine, she bumped into a man coming from the opposite direction. “I'm so sorry. I wasn't looking where I was going.”

Her victim grinned. “It's okay. We're in a hospital, so I'm in the best place for a head-on collision.”

Angel smiled. The man got a closer look at her face and identification badge. He squinted his eyes, searching for recognition. “Angel? Angelique Preston?”

Angel was stunned. Very rarely did anyone address her by her real name, and even more rarely by her maiden name. “Yes . . . Do I know you?”

“Yeah, you used to, anyway. Jordan McKay. I was your lab partner for two years in high school.”

Angel thought back to her days of high school chemistry. Then she remembered the cute, bowlegged basketball player with the dimpled grin. The awkward lankiness of youth had been replaced by lean, hard muscles. Neatly trimmed dreadlocks sprang from his scalp, where a high-top fade had once been.

“Jordan McKay!” she exclaimed.

He flashed that dimpled smirk. “Do you remember now?”

“Of course!” She reached out to hug him. “It's so good to see you! Heck, it's good to see anybody from back home. That hardly ever happens. What are you doing in Savannah?”

“Making a fresh start. I moved down about six months ago.”

“Wow! I think the last time I saw you, you were shooting hoops in the gym, wiping the floor with some gullible freshmen. We all thought you were going to be the next Michael Jordan.”

He laughed. “I did too, but I'm an old man now. My jump shot is not as sweet as it used to be, but I can still give the young'uns a run for their money on a good day.”

“Thirty-three is not old, at least not on me,” she bragged, posing playfully for him.

He ogled her. “No, it actually looks rather good on you.”

“So is showing off on the court what brought you here today?”

“Oh, no. There was a shortage in one of the breakers. They called me in to fix it. By the looks of it, I'd say a paycheck is what brought you here today too.”

She smiled again. “Yeah, I have a personal care business, but I come in on the weekends to earn my shoe money.”

“So you're a nurse?”

She nodded.

“That's cool. I can see you taking that route with your career. I remember you always helping people when we were in school. You didn't even mind the sight of blood. All the other girls would be somewhere squealing in biology when it was time to dissect something, but you were right there in the trenches with the fellas.”

She was impressed that he remembered. “Nursing is my calling, my gift. So what do you do when you're not perfecting that jump shot of yours? You said something about fixing the breakers.”

He reached into his back pocket and handed her a card. Angel read it. “You're an electrician, I see.”

“Yeah.”

“That's great.”

He spotted Angel's last name on her badge. “You're a King now, huh?”

“Yes, but I prefer to think of myself as a queen,” she joked.

Jordan laughed a little. “So you're married. I guess when I didn't see a ring, I assumed . . .”

“You assumed correctly,” she informed him. “We're divorced.”

“I'm sorry to hear that . . . kinda.”

Angel blushed. “What about you? Any wives? Ex-wives? Baby mamas?”

“No . . . no kids, never been married.”

“With that face? How's that possible?” she asked, catching herself flirting with him. “I thought Deidra would've made you wife her right after graduation.”

“We still dated for a year after we graduated from high school, but you know how it is in college. It's easy to get distracted when there are a few states in between you.”

“Yeah, but when you're eighteen and naive, you think you're going to be together forever, or at least I did. I met my ex the first day of class at Howard. We were married by my junior year and divorced a few months after graduation.”

“There's nothing like young love.”

“Then what accounts for the fact that I got engaged to him again at thirty-one?” Angel shook her head. “We broke up a year ago. This time it's for good. What about you? No love-and-war stories?”

“No, I mean, I've had a few girlfriends here and there, and times where things were serious for a while. I was engaged myself a couple of years back.”

“What happened?”

“Just didn't work out.” He sighed. “That's life for you, though.”

“And love,” she added.

He stared at her for a few seconds before speaking. “I guess I better let you get on back to work. It was good seeing you again, Angel.”

“You too, Jordan.” She smiled and turned to walk away.

Jordan reached for her hand. “You wouldn't mind if I called you sometime, would you?”

She hesitated. “I guess that would be okay.”

“Well, you wouldn't mind if I asked you to join me for lunch one day, either, would you?”

She blushed. “No, I wouldn't mind that, either.”

“Great.” He pulled out his cell phone and handed it to her. “Why don't you lock your number in, and I'll give you a call one day next week?”

“Sure.” Angel typed in her phone number and handed the phone back to him.

“Don't work too hard,” he warned her. “I don't want you trying to use exhaustion or sleeplessness to back out of our lunch date.”

“I won't,” she promised him.

Angel smiled as she watched Jordan walk away. It was the first time since breaking up with her ex-husband–turned fiancé–turned ex-fiancé, Duke, that a man had made her smile. It was a ray of hope that she wasn't destined to spend the rest of her life as a single, overworked nurse. Hope was a fine thing. So was Mr. Jordan McKay.

 

“Smile, Charity,” Sullivan sang into the video camera the following afternoon, as Charles recorded the two of them. “Happy first birthday!”

Charles lowered the camera and turned it off. “All right, I think we can officially call it a wrap.”

Sullivan exhaled and dropped the smile and singsong voice. “Thank God. I thought all those children and their parents would never leave!”

Lawson and Angel laughed.

“At least you have another three hundred sixty-four days before you have to worry about it again,” said Lawson.

Charity stretched out her pudgy arms to her father. “Oh, you want your daddy now?” Sullivan handed her off to Charles. “Can you get her ready for bed, sweetheart?”

“My pleasure. Come on, big girl!” As Charles hoisted Charity up over his shoulder, the doorbell rang.

“And can you get that too, honey?” Sullivan requested sweetly.

Charles kissed the top of Sullivan's head. “Anything for my beautiful wife.” Charity squealed with delight as Charles carted her off with him.

“The two of them are so cute together,” gushed Angel. “At this point, I don't think it even matters to Charles who her biological father is.”

Sullivan craned her neck to make sure Charles was out of earshot. “It doesn't matter right now. I'm praying it'll stay that way.”

“Do you ever hear from Vaughn?” asked Angel.

“No, I'm praying it'll stay that way too. The last thing I need is for Vaughn to start doing the math and asking questions about Charity. He needs to keep his tail in New York, where he belongs.”

“Fingers crossed,” swore Lawson.

“Well, look who's only two hours late,” spewed Sullivan as Reginell barged into Sullivan's living room minutes after Charity's birthday party was over. “You were in charge of balloons, Reggie. I should have known that was too much responsibility for you.”

“Where were you?” Lawson asked, fishing, as she took down some of the birthday streamers. “I tried calling you a couple of times.”

“Planning this doggone wedding. The guest list is already up to two hundred fifty with all of Mark's country-bama kinfolks coming in from Texas,” ballyhooed Reginell. “Do you have any idea how much wedding dresses and cakes and caterers cost? I sure didn't!”

“No one said you had to have some big, fancy wedding. Do what the two of you can afford,” Angel advised.

“But I want the fairy-tale wedding. I'm planning on doing this only one time.”

“I wonder how many men she's told that lie to,” mumbled Sullivan.

“Of course, I did manage to save room for Vaughn to come, Sully, if you want to invite him,” offered Reginell. “That'll be the perfect opportunity for him to meet Charity. You, him, Charles, and the baby could all pose for a nice family picture. We can even have the photographer insert little question marks over Charles's and Vaughn's heads and let people guess who the daddy is.”

“Isn't it confusing enough that you're marrying your sister's baby's daddy and that you're being given away by your nephew stepson?” Sullivan retorted. “Do you really need to add more drama to the mix?”

Reginell expressed herself with a finger gesture toward Sullivan.

“Sully, stop being messy!” argued Lawson. “You know I'm perfectly fine with Reggie marrying Mark. It's enough to worry about my own husband. I don't have time to worry about hers too.”

Reginell helped herself to a leftover cupcake. “On top of trying to pay for this wedding, I still have all my other bills to deal with.”

Lawson clasped Reginell's shoulder. “Welcome to the real world, li'l sister!”

“Man, if I was still dancing at the club, I could pay for this wedding and everything else in two or three good weekends.”

“If you were still stripping at that club, you wouldn't be marrying Mark, so there would be no need for a wedding,” Lawson mentioned.

“He fell in love with me when I was stripping.”

“Yeah, and he dumped you because of it too.” Sullivan glanced over at Angel, who was humming, lost in her own world. “What's up with all that?”

Angel stopped. “All what?”

“All the smiling and humming.”

Angel smiled. “Oh, was I doing that?”

Sullivan bumped her. “Um . . . yes, you were, ma'am, so what gives?”

“Nothing.” Angel shook her head. “I mean, it probably won't amount to anything, anyway.”

Lawson joined Angel. “What probably won't amount to anything?”

Angel tried to act blasé about it. “This thing with Jordan.”

Sullivan was intrigued. “What
thing,
and who's
Jordan?
”

“He's a guy from back home in D.C.”

Lawson winced. “Oh, Lord, don't tell me you're doing the online thing again.”

“No, I ran into him at the hospital—literally.”

Sullivan stacked the empty paper cups. “What's he doing in Savannah? Is he a patient?”

“No, apparently, he's living here now.”

Sullivan raised an eye. “Is he living single?”

“He was when he asked me out,” Angel replied with a smirk.

“Aw, sookie, sookie now!” exclaimed Lawson, wrapping up what was left of Charity's birthday cake. “That's wonderful, Angel. It'll be good to see you getting out and dating again.”

Angel shrugged dismissively. “We'll see if anything comes of it. He was probably just being polite.”

“
Polite
stops where the exchange of goods and services begins!” retorted Sullivan. “If he offered to take you out, he's more than just
polite.
He's interested.”

“It's been so long since a guy has been interested that I can't tell the difference between the two,” admitted Angel.

“You're a catch, Angel. Why wouldn't he be interested?” asked Reginell.

“Be sure to take it slow, though,” recommended Lawson. “Take your time to get to know him. No need to rush anything.”

Reginell edged closer to Angel. “How does he look?”

Angel fanned herself. “He's got skin like Hershey's, a body like ‘Hurt me,' and swag like ‘Have mercy!'”

The ladies all roared with laughter and smacked hands.

Once the hilarity died down, Sullivan started to speak, then stopped and sighed.

“What?” Lawson asked, pumping her as she watched her. “What is it you're
not
telling us now?”

“Yeah, Sully, it's much better when we hear these scandals from the horse's mouth, as opposed to reading about it online. Spit it out,” Angel said, egging her on.

“This isn't a scandal, not
my
scandal, anyway,” replied Sullivan.

Lawson eyed her with caution. “So whose scandal is it?”

Sullivan exhaled. “Okay, well, it is my scandal . . . sort of. There's this minister in Atlanta.”

“Oh, God, not again,” wailed Angel, assuming that Sullivan had bedded yet another man who was not her husband. “Sullivan, I know Charles is a patient man who loves the Lord, but he's still a man! How many times do you expect him to take you back after you step out on him?”

“And how many times do you expect
us
to keep quiet when you self-destruct like this?” Lawson wanted to know. “You have a child now. It's about time you grew up and stopped running around, doing whatever and whoever your hormones tell you!”

“Wait a minute,” interjected Sullivan. “It's not what you think.”

Lawson shot her an exasperated look.

“Ladies, I know I don't have the greatest fidelity track record, but this is different. I'm not sleeping with the minister.”

“Then what are you doing with him?” inquired Lawson.

“Nothing! Charles said something about him the other day that I can't get off my mind.”

Angel was curious. “What?”

Sullivan said aloud what had been on her mind all night. “He thinks this minister may be my father.”

Angel was taken aback. “Really? Who is he?”

“And where did Charles find him?” Lawson added.

“In Atlanta, a few days ago.”

“I thought he was at some kind of ministry leaders' conference,” said Lawson.

“He was. That's where he met him. Apparently, there's a Samuel Sullivan who's the pastor of a church in Duluth.”

Lawson was skeptical. “No offense, Sully, but do you honestly think a pastor could be your father? I mean, look at Vera.”

“Whores attract good and bad guys alike,” Sullivan disclosed.

“Yeah, but wouldn't a man like that, who feared and loved the Lord, have made some effort to find his daughter?” Angel wondered aloud.

“Not necessarily,” countered Sullivan. “Especially if he has a wife and kids at home. Besides, who knows what Vera did to the poor guy? She probably threatened him and ran him off.”

Reginell invited herself into the conversation. “So are you going to go up to Duluth and see him for yourself?”

“I don't know. I haven't even gotten the nerve to look him up on the Internet to see if it's really him,” Sullivan confessed.

“What's stopping you?” asked Lawson.

“Who knows? I guess fear, scared to get my hopes up.”

“So you want to see him?” questioned Angel.

“That's something else I don't know. I haven't seen this man in over twenty-five years. I have no idea what I'd say to him or how I'd feel seeing him after all this time. Maybe this is one of those times where it's better to leave Pandora's box unopened.”

“Sully, you don't even know that this guy at the church is your father,” said Reginell. “The least you should do is check him out. If he is your dad, decide what you want to do from there.”

“To tell you the truth, I've had my fantasy father for so long that I'm afraid of what the truth might be.”

Angel blinked. “Fantasy father?”

“Yeah. When I was forced to do Vera's bidding for her when she needed a bill paid or wanted a new purse, I'd always imagine that my father would come swoop down and rescue me.” Sullivan looked off, as if in a daze. “In my mind, my dad was always this handsome man who smelled like wood and Old Spice, who had the kind of smile that could melt a girl's heart. We would have inside jokes together, and he'd call me his star baby. And he wouldn't hesitate to lay the smack down on anyone who even
thought
about bringing harm to his baby girl.” She turned back to her friends. “Maybe that's the image I want to hold on to.”

“Sullivan, you have to check it out if there's even the slightest chance this man could be your father,” insisted Lawson.

“Do it to find out his medical history, if nothing else,” directed Angel.

“My father skipped out on Reggie and me when we were kids. I didn't see him again until the day of his funeral. As much as I resent him for leaving us, I would give anything to see him again.”

“It should be noted that's probably how Simon is going to feel about Garrett, so you shouldn't be so gung ho on keeping them apart,” Sullivan noted.

“That's precisely why I don't keep them apart. As much as it tears me up inside to know that my husband is at that house with his jump-off and her son, I know Garrett needs to be there for his child. I'd never do anything to interfere with that.”

“Sully, you have something that a lot of people don't get—a second chance to make things right. Don't waste it,” Angel implored her. “It's been twenty years, but I still haven't gotten over losing my father in Desert Storm. If I could see him or hug him one more time, I'd do it in a heartbeat.”

Lawson playfully elbowed Sullivan. “Hey, what could go wrong, right?”

“Everything.” Sullivan pulled out her smartphone and logged on to the Internet. “I believe Charles said the church is called Friendship Temple. I know it's in Duluth.” The ladies crowded around her.

Lawson pointed to the screen. “Is that it?”

“We're about to find out.” Sullivan clicked on the link to the church's Web site. “It looks like a nice-size church.”

“Click on the ‘Meet Our Pastor' link,” instructed Lawson.

Sullivan obeyed. A picture of Pastor Samuel Sullivan and his family lit up the screen.

Lawson pointed at the church's pastor. “Is that him?”

“That's him.” Sullivan leaned back in the chair and exhaled deeply. “That's my father.”

“Are you sure?” Angel squinted her eyes to get a better look at the picture. “I mean, you said yourself you haven't seen the man in about twenty-five years.”

“
That's him!
” insisted Sullivan. “I'm positive that's my father. He's got the same smile and everything.”

“So now what?” asked Lawson. “Are you going to call him?”

Sullivan sucked her teeth. “And say what? ‘Hey, I'm the daughter you abandoned years ago'?”

“It's a start,” said Angel.

Sullivan shrugged. “What the heck?” She got the church's contact number and dialed.

“Are you calling him?” Angel asked, shocked.

“Yeah . . . shush. It's ringing.”

Lawson tried to take the phone. “Sully, maybe we need to ask the Lord about this first.”