Second Thoughts (21 page)

“Unfortunately, yes,” she affirmed. She paused. “For this session. Listen, I know you came here on Vanessa’s suggestion, but she doesn’t have to know if you continue to see me. I have a few extra minutes if you want to continue.”

“You know what I’ve learned, Dr. Reeves?  A dead man tells no tale. I could fall asleep on your couch and I still wouldn’t know if my son is dead or alive. I do thank you for your offer though, but I’m good.”

“Are you, Taylor?”

Dr. Reeves extended her hand and rested it on my shoulder. I didn’t acknowledge her gesture.

“Maybe you should consider talking to Patrick about this child you share with him. I know you have no evidence of your child’s existence, but it might bring y
ou close to him―close to somebody―’cause it seems you haven’t allowed yourself to get close to anyone since him.”

I allowed her suggestion to marinate in my head. I wasn’t sure I was going to follow Dr. Reeves’ suggestion. It would be nice to reconnect wi
th Patrick. We were so close when we were younger, even with him confiding in me about his sexuality. After that day, Patrick changed. He became a splinter of the outgoing man I fell in love with seemingly from the first day I met him.

I left Dr. Reeves’ office with a cluster of emotions I didn’t feel like dealing with, thanks to Nessa’s persistence and my own damn fear. So what if she did find out about the past with Dillon? So what if she knew our occasional rendezvous never stopped even after their nuptials. He was mine first. I still had a right to him, especially if he felt he still had a right to me.

Chapter
23

DaMarcus…

I Love This Feeling

I liked the feeling that came over me. Thoughts of
drowning Taylor like a tsunami left the kind of taste that only overly sweetened Kool Aid could. I tasted upside-down pineapple cake with a thick layer of brown sugar, all at the thought of giving Taylor her just dessert. I never thought my involvement with her would have come to this. The more I thought about how I treated her and what I got in return, the more I became aroused by the plot to destroy her. She made promises she didn’t keep. My fling with her had given me a son I was still trying hard to love, because he reminded me of everything: Taylor, the woman
I now hated, and Belinda, the love I no longer had. He reminded me that lust didn’t cost a thing but could cost you everything─my everything was Belinda. I wondered if Taylor ever felt guilty and if so, how long had this guilt stayed with her. Apparently,
not too long; she was already on to the next. That next happened to be her sister’s husband. She was a shrewd woman so I figured she was immune to emotions, if she had any emotions at all. 

My ally sat composed and watched me lose the woman I loved because she all of a sudden developed a conscience. Where was her goddamned conscience when she was telling me I was the only one she loved and I couldn’t change it, right before she told me she would never do anything to hurt me? Well, if she thought she was a little girl who could hide behind a tree during a childhood game of hide-and-seek and not be seen, she was about to find out she was now all grown up, and none of her bad deeds were going unpunished.    

I got out of bed, pushed my feet in my slippers, and wrapped my toes around the thong. I walked across my American black walnut hardwood floor and stood in front of the dresser. I opened a top drawer and removed a small passport-size picture of Taylor. I stood at the window, my face covered in cynicism. Nothing would please me more than to wipe that pretentious angelic smile from her scandalous face. Taylor belonged in a barge with the rest of the garbage because she’s nothing but trash. The plot to destroy her aroused me.

For a moment I was bothered that Vanessa would be hurt in the setup. I felt sorry for her because I knew what Taylor was capable of. I felt nothing for Dillon. He was just like me.  Taylor probably loved him beyond measure to the point where he’d swallowed her lies like he was being fed honey. I’m sure she was already plotting her next set of lies and would somehow convince Vanessa she was an innocent player in Dillon’s secret games.

“You should have trusted me,” I said aloud, and I felt disappointed all over again.

I was staring at the small photograph in my hand.

“I said you would be taken care of, now taking care of you has a whole new meaning.”

I had lain down with a dog named Taylor DeAngela Duncan.
What happens when you lie down with dogs?
I thought.

Like Santa Clause at Christmas, I made my list and checked it twice. It had taken me all weekend and most of Monday to come up with what I hope was a perfect plan. I was lying in bed highlighting the people I had on standby; those who had developed a just disdain for Taylor. I commende
d them─myself even─for their momentary surrender. I fell asleep smiling at the thoughts that flooded my mind. I’ve thought about Taylor from time to time, usually dismissing them as they surfaced. Tonight, however, I welcomed the thoughts that infiltrated
my mind space, surprised they had become my lullaby, my musical carousel, soothing me to sleep.

•   •   •   •   •

They say payback was a bitch, and this bitch was
going to get the payback of a lifetime. It was my turn to watch her fall. Besides Quinton, her sister was the only other person she had in her life. I’ve tried to forget about Taylor and what she had done to me, but every time I thought about my walk of shame, my green mile after Belinda threw me out, her sleeping next to her new man, the crave to even the score came rushing back, leaving a syrupy taste in my mouth. I wasn’t going to need an alibi, just the perfect accomplice, and I had at least two to choose from. 

That’s right,
I thought, with an evil smile on my face.
I’m not the first one you’ve fucked over, and I’m sure I wasn’t the last.

I sat in my cosmopolitan burnt red leather armchair that sat in the corner of my bedroom, eager to put my plan into action. This was definitely the day that the lord has made. I reached over the side of the chair and grabbed my cell phone I had set on the floor. I slid my finger down the screen, stopping at her name. I was hoping she would partake in my plan. I had asked her not to mention anything to Dillon or Taylor. Was she able to fight the urge?

"Hello," she answered, sounding if as I were disturbing sleep that had finally come.
             
"I told you I would call you when everything was ready."

"Do you know what time is it?" she asked.

"I do know what time it is. Are you ready for revenge? They say it is sweet, and I’m already salivating like Pavlov’s dogs. Taylor’s days of stepping on people without consequences are over.”

“I’ve given it some thought since we last talk,” she began. “I’m not going to object to you exacting your revenge on her. Maybe she does deserve it…”

“There’s no maybe about it, Vanessa,” I interrupted.

“If you insist,” she continued. “But I want nothing to do with this. She is my sister.”

“And how often have you wished she thought like you? I wonder how much it mattered to her that you were, indeed, sisters. Were you sisters when she had your husband inside her? She betrayed you. She betrayed your trust. Did she think she was hurting her sister, or were you just another bitch with the wrong skin tone and eyes that had what she wanted and thought she had the right to? The truth is, she didn’t give a damn about you then, she didn’t give a damn about you a week ago, and she doesn’t give a damn about you now.”

“What exactly do you want to punish her for? How much of your plot of destruction has to do with you and Belinda. You can tell me now, DaMarcus.”

“Huh?”

“What? Did you think I wasn’t doing my research, too?  What do you think was going to happen when Taylor realized she couldn’t have you to herself?” I asked. “She plays for keeps, and if she was going to lose, so were you.”

“I was never going to leave my wife for Taylor. She was something to occupy my time; attend my games when Belinda couldn’t. This, losing Belinda, the divorce, and Quinton wasn’t a part of any plan.”

“You should have made sure you and Taylor had the same plan. Maybe you should have taken some time to get to know the woman you were sharing the bed you shared with your wife. Before you or Chad, there was the investment banker whose wife spent more time overseas on business. Then there was the developer, and I can’t forget the executive chef. She knows how to pick them. As you can see, she ended up with none of them, and they ended up wifeless.”

“Well, Vanessa, she’s about to lose again,” I assured her.

“And will that bring Belinda back to you?”

“It’s not about Belinda coming back.” I paused, ready to give in to Vanessa’s unwillingness. “Fine, I’ll light the fire. You can sit back and watch her burn.”

“And so could you,” Vanessa shot back. “Where does this yearning come from? Sure she took from you. But didn’t she take from others?”

“So l
et me make sure I’m hearing you
right. Because I wasn’t her only victim, it makes what she has done, and continued to do, ok?”

“Accept the things you can’t change, DaMarcus,” Vanessa implored.

“Oh, you mean like you have? And what are you going to do the next time she comes after something, make that someone, who belongs to you? What are you going to do the next time she comes after someone she thinks she’s entitled to?
”

“You don’t think she’s changed?” Vanessa asked.

I paused and waited for her to substantiate her claim.

“As much as you would like to convince yourself of such a farce,” I said, “the only thing changed about Taylor is her draws, and she probably has a hard time doing that. Believe me, Vanessa, there’s an inevitable encore as soon as she becomes bored with what she has. Didn’t you hear what I said? She has your man right where she wants him; between her legs.”

“Just think about it.”

“What’s there to think about?” I asked.

“It’s been what, three years? Don’t you suppose she’s learned…?”

“Learned what?” I interrupted. “Her lesson? What have you done to teach her she can’t just spit in peoples’ faces and expect them to wipe and carry on like nothing happened? What have I, anyone, done to give back to her what she has been dishing out for so many years?”

I paused and waited for Vanessa to retort. When I was met with silence, I continued.

“She’s having her alligator moment; laying just beneath the surface, her eyes skimming her surroundings for her next prey. Nothing has changed. The only change is that she’s not coming after me, or Chad. She’s coming after your husband. Dillon.”

“Dillon has a lot to lose.”

“Newsflash, Vanessa. Sometimes we don’t think about what we have to lose, or what we’re losing until we’ve lost it.”

“You and Dillon aren’t the same.”

“Tell you what. I’ll tell you the plan I came up with. If you want to be a part of it, listen closely. But if you think your sister is no longer after your husband’s dick, hang up your phone, roll over, and pretend that as if I never made this call.”

Chapter
24

Vanessa…

Why Her?

Before I answered the phone, I grabbed my watch
from the nightstand. It was exactly 6:15
Tuesday morning. Last night’s forecast had promised another hot day in July. The summer was already being penned one of the hottest in decades. I had fallen asleep under the artificial cool from the air conditioner, talking with Dillon about Taylor. I’d told him she had finally agreed to talk to Dr. Reeves about the difficulties she was still having dealing with Mother’s death. I waited for him to confirm what I already knew was going on between him and my sister, but he just lay there on his back with his head resting in the palms of his hands. His eyes pierced through the darkness. What I didn’t tell him was that I’d heard more than just a snippet of the conversation he had in the kitchen with Taylor that morning after. 

I heard Taylor telling Dillon she couldn’t look into his eyes because he knew what it did to her. I had stood in the hallway along the wall on the other side of the kitchen listening to them. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. They talked as if they had nothing to hide. Damn, they could have at least whispered. Why didn’t they whisper? Instead, they loudly confirmed my suspicion. Where did they think I was? When I couldn’t take anymore I interrupted. Taylor was always quick with her lies and, without even a second thought, she had used my mother’s death as a diversion from the truth. In that moment, I decided to follow her lead and offered up my friend Dr. Isis Reeves to discuss her issues.  Hell, she wasn’t the only one who was quick on their feet.

I’ve had my suspicions about Dillon and Taylor since my conversation with Shelby, but I never gave it mo
re attention than it needed─after all, I had my husband, and I didn’t want to lose him by asking him to confirm or deny something I was told by his sidepiece. But after my overheard, I needed a way to find out what was really going on between my husband an
d the woman I called my sister. I wasn’t relying on either Dillon or Taylor to tell me the truth, especially since she had looked me square in my eyes and lied, and he just stood there without objection, supporting her lies.

That night I took a longer than
usual bath, my body wrapped in the scent of Patchouli Lavender Rose. I tried to escape my thoughts. It didn’t bother me that my sister was screwing my husband─that I expected. But that my husband was screwing my sister was like nails from a nail-gun pierc
ing through my chest. I tried to control the tears, but rather than bawling, I just cried silently. Dillon tried to ask what had me so bothered, but I blamed my emotions on the patient I had just lost. He was satisfied with that explanation and inquired no further.  Hell, he should have known. He knew what he had done the night before.

After talking to DaMarcus, I sat up in bed with my back against the dark leather headboard with my knees pulled up to my chest. I still had the cell phone in my hand, replaying in my head the conversation I’d just had with him. I stayed in the bed while Dillon showered. I listened to his muffled rendition of Frankie Valli’s Second Thoughts.
"Second thoughts about our love...should I stay or go? Second thoughts about our love…Is it gonna grow? Every time I think of leaving you behind… baby then I find, I still love you,
" he sang. It was his favorite song. I’d heard him sing it several times before, but this morning I paid attention to the words. I wondered, has he been singing about Taylor or me?  I thought about asking him point-blank “are you fucking my sister,” as soon as he walked out the bathroom door, but I wasn’t sure if that approach was wise.  I cocked my head to the side and continued listening to his failed attempt at a falsetto.
“I keep thinking every night about you…wondering what I’m gonna do. Can I live with you or live without you? Baby I’m torn between the two,”
he continued. When the shower went off, he fell silent, as if he was hiding his confessions in the water’s fall.

He came from the bathroom with his towel draped around his neck. That was all he wore. His baldhead looked baby-bottom smooth. He flaunted his impressive erection as if he were doing something in that shower other than pretending he could carry a tune. He exuded sexual confidence, and I loved that about him. Evidently, I wasn’t the only one.    

“You like that, don’t you?” he said, looking at his erection and then at me with a crooked smile.

With his menacing brown eyes, he thrust his pelvic forward.

I didn’t respond.

“I think I can be a little late going into the office this morning. At least I’ll get there with a smile on my face.”

He walked across the room and stood in front of me.

“Or not,” I said, tossing the cover to one side of the bed. “I’m not in the mood.”

He shrugged his shoulders and started back towards the bathroom. I hopped out of bed and adjusted my V-string panty. Before I headed out of the room, I grabbed the white deep v-neck t-shirt I had tossed at the foot of the bed and hastily covered my naked breasts. I grabbed the sheer robe and loosely tied the belt around my waist. I looked intently, not at him, but in his direction. When I reached close to the bedroom door, I turned around to face him.

“You’re not even going to…” I paused. “Never mind,” I added.

I turned and continued my quick exit.

•   •   •   •   •

I sat at the kitchen island with my coffee mug in
both hands and my elbows resting on the counter. I sat with my right leg crossed over the left with my robe falling to either side of me, revealing long, newly-shaved legs. My hair was loosely tied in a ponytail that hung over my right shoulder, exposing the back on my neck. Dillon entered the kitchen wearing a blue seersucker suit. He rested the jacket over the back of the chair where he had left his briefcase the night before and then kissed the back of my neck. I cringed.
How many times had he kissed Taylor on that same spot on the back of her neck?
I thought. He walked to the kitchen counter and began pouring his coffee. He replaced the coffee pot, checked his pockets, and then his waist.  He walked out of the kitchen without speaking a word. I sat there staring at my reflection in the black liquid.

“Have you seen my cell phone?” he asked, walking back into the kitchen a few moments later.

He didn’t wait for my response. I watched Dillon walk from one room to the next, searching for his cell phone. By now, his coffee had gone from steaming hot to room temperature cold. He loved his coffee steaming hot.

“Are you sure you didn’t leave it at the office last night, or maybe in the car? Did you check the car, Dillon?”

“I know it’s not in the car. Maybe I did leave it on my desk. After that long meeting yesterday, I just wanted to get home.”

He pushed his right hand through his jacket sleeve and then looked at his watch.

“Shit, I’m gonna be late for another senseless meeting.” Funny he wasn’t worrying about being late a few moments ago.

“I guess you better hurry.” 

He grabbed his briefcase he had left sitting in the barstool next to me. He kissed me in the middle of my forehead as he had been doing since we first met, and then headed towards the door.

“Oh, honey.” I swung the chair around and then walked up behind him. “I’m having dinner with Isis and Telia after work.”

He turned, grabbing his heart with his free hand and smiled. “So you’re on your own for dinner,” I continued.

He kissed my lips with his hand on the side of my face. I closed my eyes pretending to enjoy the moment. I quickly opened them when the image of him kissing Taylor appeared in the darkness before me.

“I love you,” he said. I felt the tears taking a familiar path to my eyes. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” I said, looking away from him.

“I’ll call you as soon as I get to the office.”

He kissed the side of my mouth and headed out the door.

I closed the door behind him, keeping the palm of my hand pressed against it. I quickly wiped the tears that had started to fall.

“I love you, too,” I whispered, and then turned and walked back towards the kitchen.

I emptied Dillon’s untouched cup of coffee in the sink and placed his cup and mine in the dishwasher. I walked upstairs to the bedroom, reached across the bed for my cell phone, and then I began to dial her number.

As I waited to be connected to her, I thought about the very first time I met Dillon. I’d noticed him from behind, even standing more than twenty feet away from him. He was built the way I liked
my men─broad shoulders, small waist, and big feet. And the theory that men with big feet had big things in all the right places was definitely true─at least Dillon had proven it to be true. I couldn’t hold that my man did not disappoint in the bedroom, and me and my big-ass mouth bragged to the wrong person─my sister. Still, that wasn’t an invitation for her to screw my man. Of course, he probably thought with the wrong head and fell for her temptation. Hell, there’s no probably about it. I’m certain that’s
what happened. The devil will always tempt you, and if you weren’t strong enough, you will succumb to his temptations. Well, my sister was the devil, and she doesn’t disguise, either. I never trusted my sister farther than I could throw her, but I never thought my husband would touch her with a ten-foot pole. The thought that Dillon was also touching her with the ten-inch thickness between his legs made me throw up in my own damn mouth.