The Deal, the Dance, and the Devil (27 page)

I pressed my lips together so that my question wouldn’t come out. All I did was nod.

My eyes stayed on him as he moved toward our bathroom, then stopped. Turning back, he came to me but stood an arm’s length away. “I almost forgot,” he said. “This is the money.”

Adam had almost forgotten—but in the minutes that had passed between him walking into our home and now, I had totally forgotten. Because this wasn’t about the money anymore. The last fifty hours had made me see that five million dollars was hardly worth anything.

But still, I took the envelope. Because we’d earned it. We’d done what we’d had to do, and now we could deposit it and leave this weekend behind.

I looked up at Adam and waited for him to take my hand and invite me to bathe with him—just like he’d done before he’d left. Just like he’d done a thousand days before that. But with a small smile, he turned away, walked into the bathroom, and closed the door.

That’s okay, I thought and released a long breath.

Falling back onto the bed, I was filled with gratitude. My husband was home. That was all that mattered.

Looking down at the envelope, my head jerked back a bit. Evia
Early
Evans was scrawled in the center. Again, I wondered how she knew my middle name. But that’s how she’d written the first check. The shocker to me now was the two words that followed my name: Thank you!

What?

Thank you!

Thank you? Was she kidding me?

What was I supposed to say? You’re welcome?

I dug through the nightstand drawer, found a pen, then with what felt like five million strokes, I scratched out Shay-Shaunté’s gratitude. I scratched until those words could not be seen, could not be felt. Then I placed the envelope on the edge of my nightstand and scooted back against the headboard.

Now, I would wait for Adam.

Chapter 45

E
VEN THOUGH
A
DAM WAS BACK, IT
didn’t feel like he was home.

As I reached into the pantry to pull out boxes of cereal for the children, I thought about last night and how I’d waited and waited for Adam to come out of the bathroom …

The shower had stopped long ago, but there was no sign of my husband. For a moment, I wondered if he’d somehow fallen asleep in there. But just when I was going to check, he opened the door and looked right into my eyes.

He jumped back, as if he was startled. As if he never expected that I’d still be awake.

While he was startled, I was shocked that he’d come out fully dressed. I mean, covered from head to toe. Not in street clothes, of course, but in pajamas—a bottom
and
a top.

Now, that might have been normal for most people, but that was not the way Adam and I rolled. Most nights, ninety-nine percent of the time, we slept in the nude. The other times, Adam wore bottoms,
never
anything on top.

The black silk pair wasn’t even anything that I’d ever seen. In fact, they looked brand-new. I was frozen, not believing what I was seeing. No way—would Adam actually do this? Would he wear something that he’d received from Shay-Shaunté?

I didn’t blink as he lumbered across the bedroom with slumped shoulders and heavy feet.

When he got to his side of the bed, I couldn’t hold back any longer. “Where did you get those pajamas?” I did my best to keep the accusatory tone out of my voice, but I wasn’t successful.

Adam looked down. “These?” Then, with a frown, he made eye contact again. “These are from your mother. For Christmas. Remember?”

I gulped in air. I did remember—a little. Not that I paid attention to anything my mother ever gave to anyone in my family. For years, she’d given my children clothes that had been too small and toys that had been too juvenile, so when she’d given us boxes on Christmas, I hadn’t even opened mine. And I’d never asked Adam about his.

Now I wished I had, because he said, “Where did you think I got these?” Then he held up his hand as if he didn’t want me to answer. “Never mind,” he said, shaking his head.

I guessed he didn’t want to hear what I had to say. Didn’t want to get into any discussion about how I thought he’d bring a gift from Shay-Shaunté into our bedroom.

But here’s the thing—he shouldn’t have been mad at me, because clearly the game had changed. We were playing under a new system; from the moment Adam walked in that door, nothing was the same. He didn’t greet with the cheer and the love that he had every day of our lives. And now he was coming to bed fully dressed. He’d only been home for a bit more than an hour, but it felt like a lifetime of changes had occurred. I couldn’t be blamed for not knowing, not understanding.

Adam tossed back the duvet, then climbed in. Even though I was sitting up, still dressed, obviously waiting, he turned and rested with his back to me. He teetered on the edge, like he was going to fall off the bed at any second and didn’t care.

No, it wasn’t going to go down like this. He had just come home, and this was all that I was going to get?

I said, “Adam … I want to—”

He didn’t let me finish. “I’m really tired. I can’t talk.”

That was it. Nothing more. No other explanation. Not a kiss or another hug.

I sucked in my hurt and told myself that this was normal, though I didn’t have any other situation to compare this to. But it had to be normal. If Adam’s weekend was half as traumatic as mine had been, he needed time. Isn’t that what they told spouses whose partners returned from war?

So without getting undressed, I settled into my side of the bed and stayed awake for the rest of the dark hours, wondering what I was supposed to do now.

As dawn approached, I convinced myself that once the sun rose, and my husband did, too, the Adam that I’d loved would greet me and love me like he always had …

But the sun had been up for almost an hour and Adam was still tucked in bed.

“Is Daddy home?” Ethan asked as he darted into the kitchen.

Behind him were the twins with the same question.

“Everybody sit down,” I said, motioning toward the breakfast nook. “Your dad’s home, but he’s still asleep.”

“Really?” Alexa said. I was waiting for her suspicion; waiting for her to ask me twenty questions about whether Adam was going to work. But she didn’t say a word about that.

She did say, “I tried to wait up for him, but it was such a long, wonderful weekend. I was too tired.”

I agreed with the long part, the tired part.

Alexa continued, “I fell asleep before ten.”

Alana said, “Well, I didn’t fall asleep till eleven, and I didn’t hear him.”

“Are you guys talking about me?”

“Daddy!” My three children jumped up and into the arms of their father.

It was the lovely greeting that he always gave to Alexa, Alana, and Ethan. It was the same greeting that I’d expected last night.

“Happy new year, Daddy,” Alana said, as she kissed him over and over on one cheek.

“We really missed you,” Alexa said, doing the same on the other side of his face. “Wait till you hear about the party!”

“Daddy, do you know what Taquan did?” Ethan asked. “He gave me a black eye.”

“Whoa!”

That took the smile off Adam’s face as he backed up and inspected his son. Ethan filled him in on all the details, and as I listened, I felt guilty all over again.

“What are you gonna do, Dad?” Ethan said with a tinge of excitement in his voice. As if he hoped that his father would go over to his grandmother’s house and beat up his cousin.

With his hands tenderly inspecting Ethan, Adam said, “I’m gonna handle it.”

Ethan sulked back to the table; clearly Adam’s words weren’t threatening enough.

“Daddy,” Alexa said, making Adam look at her. “Do you want to talk about the party now?”

“No, sweetheart,” he said, grabbing a banana from the counter. “You’ve got to get to school and …” He paused, as if he was thinking about something. “I’ve got to get out of here, too.”

I frowned for more than one reason. First, Adam had yet
to say good morning to me. And second, where was he going? I needed to talk to him … about the thank-you note from Shay-Shaunté … and other things before I had to face her in the office.

“Are you going to be home early?” Alexa asked. “Because we have a lot to discuss.”

“I’ll be waiting when you get home from school.” That’s when he turned to me. Finally. “Good morning,” he said. He tried to smile. His effort wasn’t enough.

Things were really bad, because I didn’t even know what to say to his good morning. So, I tried to smile back. My effort didn’t work either.

He said, “I gotta make a run.”

I lowered my voice and said, “I wanted … needed to talk to you before I … went in to work today, and.” I left it right there. He knew what I meant.

He stood as if he was trying to figure out what he should do. Kind of nodding, kind of shaking his head, he said, “I’ll talk to you later. When you get home.”

That’ll be too late!
Of course I only screamed that inside because the children were right there.

So, I gave him a nod—this time, without the effort of a smile—and sent him on his way. He kissed the twins and Ethan before he left; he had nothing for me. And the hole in my heart widened.

Now, I had a new emotion to mix in with all the turmoil already inside of me. Now, I was heartbroken, anxious, fearful—and suspicious.

This was a deadly combination, I was sure, because I had one thousand new questions. Where was he going this early in the morning? What did he have to do that was more important than talking to me? He had to make a run—wasn’t that the language of drug dealers and adulterers?

I couldn’t believe how much our lives had changed since Friday. Now I didn’t trust my husband.

After sending the children off, I returned to our bedroom and the envelope that waited for me. Even though I could no longer see Shay-Shaunté’s thank-you, I could feel it. I wanted to tear this envelope and what was inside into a million little pieces, but good sense prevailed. There was no need to be mad at the money. After what we’d been through, we needed this.

“Five million dollars will buy a lot of therapy.”

It was supposed to be a joke from me to myself. But since it wasn’t funny, and I didn’t laugh, I just tossed the envelope into my purse and went into the bathroom. I had to prepare to see the lady who’d had my husband. It was gonna be tough, but I’d handle it. Hadn’t I made it through the weekend?

I was Evia Langston from Barry Farm. I could handle Shay-Shaunté; I could handle anything.

At least, that’s what I kept telling myself.

Chapter 46

I
WAS ALREADY COUNTING DOWN.

Half a year. Six months. One hundred and eighty two days. It was a good thing that the shortest month of the year fell on my side of this deal.

No matter how I counted, though, staying at Ferossity was not going to be easy. The only reason I was gonna make it was because of this check in my purse and the chance to get out of there sooner if I found another assistant for Shay-Shaunté.

As I turned my car into the parking lot of Bank of DC, I kept my thoughts on the money. This half of the five million was all about saving and investing. If Adam and I had been back to normal, we would’ve talked this morning about meeting with our personal banker and setting up our financial plan.

I released a big ole sigh, then told myself that once I made it through today and got home tonight, we’d talk like husband and wife and get back to the business of being the Langstons—
the lovely family who was financially set now because of the sacrifice we’d made.

I strolled into the bank with my head high—I guess depositing several millions into your bank account could do that to you, but it wasn’t just the money. I strutted like a peacock because I was rich
and
I looked good. For the first time in days, I felt like that five million dollars we’d earned.

I had to bring it when I walked into Ferossity this morning, I knew that. When I faced Shay-Shaunté, I had to be elegant and eloquent. No matter what had gone down between her and Adam, she was gonna see that my husband had come home to me for a reason. She was gonna know that Adam was with the woman he loved and wanted.

So, I’d done what I’d had to do—hit the best pieces in my closet: my black fitted St. John’s tank knit dress that tricked the eye and made my size 12 figure look like a 10. Then, the black Ferragamo heels that were an inch taller than what I was used to, but which I handled because of the way they made my legs look longer. I’d even decided to change up my coat—left my down jacket at home and traded it in for my ankle-length cashmere with the fox collar.

Inside the bank, there was already a line. It was the first month, the first Monday, the first business day after the holiday, and I had expected the crowd. But the line at the teller didn’t affect me, because I had this check in my purse.

Mr. Grey greeted me. “You’re back, Ms. Langston.”

Adam and I hadn’t bothered to tell the banker that we’d be back with another two point five million dollars. “I have a deposit.”

He offered me the chair on the other side of his desk. “And I take it that since you’re not going to the tellers …” He pointed across toward the line of other customers.

With a smile, I nodded. “Yes, it’s another large deposit. The same as last time.”

All that gave away his surprise was the slight rise of his left eyebrow. I guess he was trained to deal with these kinds of deposits.

As I took the check from my purse, I said, “Right now, we’re just going to deposit this, but Adam and I want to come back and talk to you about the best way to handle this money.”

I glanced at the front, then endorsed the back. “Maybe we can see you later this week,” I said as I handed the banker the money.

“My schedule is open on Thursday and Friday right now. Call and we’ll set something up.” He glanced at the check. “You want to deposit this into your joint account?”

“Yes, just like before.” Then I thought, “Unless you think I should do something else. I mean, we were writing checks against the other deposit, but this one, we want to invest. Would it be smart to put this two million into our personal savings for now, or should I open something else today?”