Scandalicious (29 page)

“I could go for a good, home-cooked meal. Tonight, we’re having a real dinner. Meat, green vegetables, and a starch.”

“What’s a starch?” Tori turned up her nose.

Lincoln’s cell vibrated in his pocket. He checked the screen and smiled when he saw Earl’s name.

“Yo, Earl,” he greeted his brother. “What it do, man…what’s good withchu?”

The kids giggled, getting a kick out of hearing their father speaking in dialect. Lincoln winked at them. “Hold on a minute, man.” He tossed Tori the remote, giving her permission to turn the TV back on.

“Amir,” Lincoln said, “go downstairs and get the pizza menu. Order the large size Buffalo wings for me, and get pizza or whatever you and Tori want.” He wanted to talk to his brother and it was pointless to try to change the family’s routine without Chevonne’s support.

“Should I order a veggie pizza for Mommy?” Amir’s mood had gone from morose to jubilant now that he wouldn’t have to tolerate a cooking session with his father.

“No, she’s picking up something else,” Lincoln said as he walked out of Tori’s room. No point in twisting their arms to eat regular food for a change.

“So how’s Leiperville?” he said with laughter.

“Not bad. You ain’t even gonna believe this…” Since Earl’s tone was cheerful, Lincoln figured it had to be good news.

“Man, I got a j-o-b!” Earl said proudly.

“You got a what?”

“Man, I’ma tax-paying citizen.”

“What fool hired you?” Lincoln joked, but was feeling hopeful that his brother might have finally turned his life around. “What kind of work are you doing?”

“Transporting.”

“Transporting what—drugs?”

Earl chuckled. “Nah, my girl got me a job at this rehab center where she works.”

“What kind of work does she do?”

“Office job. Something in medical records. Billing and coding…or some shit, fuck if I know. I know she had to go to school for that shit—community college!”

Lincoln was impressed that Earl’s new girlfriend had a job that required at least a little bit of education. So far, she’d been a positive influence on his irresponsible brother.

“I transport patients,” Earl continued. “Sick people that done went through surgery. You know, like hip surgery, knee replacements—shit like that. I have to push ’em around in wheelchairs…take ’em to their physical therapy appointments and whatnot. Those sick people love me. The workers, too. Man, everybody in that joint knows my name already—they call me Philly Earl.” Earl sounded tickled.

“Does the Human Resources department know that they’ve hired a straight fool?” Lincoln asked, grinning.

“Yo, you should see…” Earl’s voice trailed off as he indulged in his favorite pastime. “You should see the picture on my name badge. My eyes is half-closed. I was high as a kite when I rolled up in there to take that ID picture.”

“Please don’t go to work under the influence. You’ve got disabled people in your crazy hands. And don’t be showing out, speeding
around with those patients. Be careful, you know how reckless you can be. You don’t want to knock those patients into walls or anything.”

“I got this, Lincoln. I know what I’m doing. You fuckin’ with my buzz with this corny-ass lecture.”

“So, you and the new chick are doing all right?” Lincoln asked, changing his tone and the topic.

“Yeah, man. Ivella’s cool people.”

Lincoln nodded. “That’s good, Earl. I’m glad to hear that.”

“Any word on Crowbar?” Earl asked, his tone suddenly grim.

“No, I haven’t heard anything. If Michelle knew something, I’m sure she’d tell me. She’s been calling me pretty regularly, asking about you.”

“Don’t give her any info. She don’t need to know shit!” Earl growled as if Michelle had broken his heart and skipped out on him. That’s how Earl was—extremely irrational. That poor woman’s only crime was to love Earl. Hopefully, she’d learn to love herself before she got involved in another relationship.

“You know I wouldn’t give Michelle or anyone else your new contact information.”

“Cool. Just making sure. I’m not tryna mess up what I got going on with my new dip. Ivella’s got it going on.”

Lincoln wondered how long Earl’s new romance would last.

“I don’t know what happened to my mans, but I hope it wasn’t too painful. If the nut bull blew him up, like he threatened, I hope Crowbar went out real quick…and whatnot.”

Lincoln was at a loss for what to say next, and he was kind of relieved when he heard Earl taking a deep inhale of marijuana.

The doorbell rang. “Pizza’s here, Daddy!” Tori yelled.

“Okay, Earl. I’ma holla at you later. I gotta deal with dinner and the kids.”

“Aye, man. Tell those two knuckleheads that Uncle Earl said, whassup.”

“Okay, Earl. And try to stay employed…at least get through the ninety-day probationary period.”

Lincoln and Earl shared a laugh before hanging up, but their laughter was hollow. Both were wondering about the fate of Earl’s friend, Crowbar.

“I want to talk to you about something,” Lincoln said when Chevonne came home from the gym, carrying the paper brown, Chipotle bag.

“Okay,” she said, looking worried.

“Nothing to be upset about.”

“That’s a relief,” she said, giving Lincoln her disarmingly beautiful smile. She unwrapped the foil around her sandwich. “I had a hard workout. So much stress on my job.” She cut the wrap in half and closed her eyes as she took a bite. “Want some?” In an intimate gesture, she offered Lincoln a bite of her sandwich.

“No, I’m good. I had Buffalo wings.”

She nodded as she chewed.

“I think I’m ready.”

“Ready for what?”

“Counseling.”

Chevonne leaned back in surprise. “Seriously, Lincoln? You’re willing to go to couples’ counseling?”

“Yeah, baby. It’s time. I want to get to the real cause of what happened to our marriage. I know we’re doing our best to try to fix what was broken. But it’s not working. All we’re doing is ignoring the problem.”

Chevonne winced, taking aback by Lincoln’s brutal honesty.

“I don’t think that trying to bury my feelings is the solution to our problem.” He looked at her intently. “I can’t fake it, Chevonne. What you did is still bothering me, and I’ve got a lot of pent-up anger.” He’d unconsciously balled his hand into a fist and was tapping anxiously on the kitchen table.

“Do you want me to start looking for a therapist?”

“Would you, babe?”

“Of course.” She put her sandwich down, reached across the kitchen table and softly covered his hand with hers, defusing the impending violence of his restless fist.

D
eon was working for the agency tonight. He and Solay planned to spend time together later, after he’d finished with his escort duties. He told her to expect him around eleven.

Solay was not comfortable openly discussing Deon’s escort itinerary, but he thought it was important to be open and honest about his job.

She couldn’t deny the nagging awareness that at this exact moment, her man was getting spruced up, slapping on after shave, so that he could look and smell good for another woman. It made her a little sick to her stomach.

She fondled the “love note” that hung from her neck, and felt a thrilling little tingle that instantly brought her out of the dark moment that had briefly held her captive.

Having been up since five in the morning, Solay got in bed and curled under the covers. A two-hour nap would have her fresh and invigorated by the time that Deon stopped by.

It’s funny how the mind works. The alarm on Solay’s cell was set for ten-thirty, yet her eyes sprang open at ten-fifteen. Wanting to look sexy for Deon, she didn’t waste any time hopping out of bed and heading for the shower. She checked her reflection in the bathroom mirror and frowned. Sleep had done a job on her face, leaving it puffy and tired…and looking irretrievably wrinkled. Gawd, she looked as if twenty years had been added to her age. Solay stepped into the stall, expecting a brisk shower to restore her face to its normal, youthful appearance.

After a refreshing shower, she wrapped a towel around her and wiped the fog from the mirror. She studied her image, turning her face at different angles. Nothing had changed. She sucked her teeth at the betrayal in the mirror. Her eyes looked tired and her cheeks were so puffy, they looked stuffed with marshmallows. Shit! What the hell had she been doing—fighting in her sleep?

It was unlike Solay to obsess about her looks, but with Deon constantly telling her that she was pretty, she wanted to feel remotely worthy of his compliments.

Makeup! Though, she hardly ever wore the stuff, tonight was a good time to try to work some magic. She raced to her bedroom, retrieved her makeup bag from the top drawer, and raced back to the bathroom, where there was better lighting.

Love! It was both exciting and scary at the same time. Love had Solay completely off balance, an emotional wreck.

She had it all together by the time Deon arrived—music, candles, and sexy lingerie. Not to mention that the makeup had worked wonders.

“Wow, look at you!” he said appreciatively. “You got all dolled up for me; what’s the occasion?”

“Nothing. I missed you, baby!” Solay fell into his arms as if she hadn’t seen him for years.

She nuzzled his neck and sniffed, and was jolted by the smell of a woman’s perfume. She could tell that it was something expensive, but on Deon, it smelled foul—really funky. Indignant, Solay wrenched away from him.

“What’s wrong?”

“I can smell a woman’s perfume, Deon!”

“For real? Aw, man.” Deon rubbed his neck, as if he could wipe the stench away. “My client, she…uh, she hugged me when we said good night.”

“Oh, really! What kind of good night was that?”

“Nothing serious.”

“Her perfume is all over you. What the hell were you two doing, dry-humping at her front door?” Solay’s voice was high-pitched and furious.

“Don’t be like that. Do you want me to take a shower?”

“No,” she said petulantly.

“Baby, you went out of your way to set up a romantic night…” He gestured toward the glowing candles that made a path from the living room to the bedroom.

“Suddenly, I’m not feeling very romantic. And who could blame me?”

Deon took his jacket off and sat on the couch. “I don’t wanna argue with you tonight. It’s late, and I have an appointment with a client at six in the morning.”

Scowling, Solay sat on a chair across from him. “How do you think it makes me feel to know, you have to rush from my bed to go spend time with another woman?”

He leaned back and grimaced. “Whoa, you’re over the top with this. My client is a fifty-something-year-old woman. There’s no reason for you to be jealous.”

“Well, I can’t help it…I’m jealous!” She folded her arms and glowered at him. “Why can’t that old bag take her saggy butt to the gym? Why does my man have to be her personal trainer? If you weren’t hot-looking, I bet she wouldn’t be paying for you to stretch her out like Bowflex.”

Deon laughed. It was light and easy.

“You’re laughing, but I’m serious. I don’t like this shit, Deon.” Solay poked her finger, stabbing at the air in an angry gesture.

Deon went silent; his mouth drawn tight in frustration.

“Don’t you have anything to say?” she snapped.

“Wow! You really spazzing out over this!”

“Don’t act like I’m some crazy bitch, worked up over nothing.
This is hard, Deon.” Solay’s voice cracked; tears spilled down her face. “I thought I could deal with it, but it’s a lot harder than I thought. Now you’ve started telling me all about your escort assignments, like that’s something I really want to hear about.”

He blinked in confusion. “I thought you’d appreciate it if I kept it one hundred with you. I wouldn’t have shared that information if I thought it would hurt you. That’s the last thing that I want to do.”

Solay sighed heavily. “I don’t know, Deon.” She shook her head. “Knowing what you’re out there doing…it’s a whole lot to handle.”

“But I’m not doing anything. I swear, I’m only doing my job…being an escort. That’s it!” Deon held his arms out.