The Perfect Mistress (25 page)

“I-I didn't know he was married,” Lauren said.

This woman was filled with rage, and Lauren would say whatever she needed to calm her down.

“Whatever. I've seen you before. You know he is married. You see the damn ring on his finger.”

Lauren cursed herself. She was really slipping. Maybe she was getting too old for this game.

“Teresa, calm down.”

Lauren had visions of the woman pulling out a pistol and shooting them all.

Dear Lord, just let me get out of here . . .

Lauren couldn't finish her thought. She hadn't prayed in years. What did she look like now, praying for God to give her grace from screwing another woman's husband?

“You're right,” Teresa said, growing eerily calm. “There's no need for me to act like some gutter trash just because my husband climbed in the gutter with some trash.”

She glanced at Thomas. “I hope this piece was worth it. Because it's about to cost you—majorly.” She gave Lauren a look of disgust. “Both of you.”

Lauren didn't know what that meant. She was just grateful when the woman walked out the door. As soon as it closed, Lauren hurriedly slipped a dress on, grabbed her belongings, and headed out.

“Wait, you're leaving?” Thomas asked.

Lauren couldn't believe he planned to go ahead like nothing happened. She decided he wasn't worth the energy of her vocal cords. She was definitely leaving. For good.

G
ood morning, Ernest.”

Joyce's toothless friend swung his head around, narrowed his eyes, and peered at her. Then he took his two left fingers and dramatically placed them over his wrist.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“I'm checking my pulse to see if I'm still alive. Because you walked in here with a smile, which must mean I done died and went to Heaven.”

“Oh, stop being so cynical,” she said as she slid in the seat across from him at the cafeteria table, where he'd been sitting alone, eating breakfast.

“Well, what has you in such a good mood?” he asked. “'Cause you're the queen of the sourpuss committee.”

She opened her yogurt, dipped her spoon in it, then slipped a bite into her mouth.

“My son is coming today,” she said with a grin.

“Your son?” Ernest said. “I thought you only had a daughter.”

That caused Joyce consternation. “Why would you think that? I told you I had a son.”

He shook his head like he was convinced she was trying
to trick him. “Naw, you never told me that. Mighta been someone else. But not me. Your daughter is the only one that's ever been here to visit you. I didn't know you had nobody else.”

“Well, if you would listen when I talked to you, you'd know,” she snapped.

“I listen and if you had told me you had a son, I woulda told you he sorry since he ain't never been here to see you.”

Joyce brushed off his comment. “Whatever, Ernest.” She refused to let anything mess up her mood today.

“I'm just saying,” Ernest continued. “I hope you got a good tongue-lashing waiting on your son when he does get here.”

“My son is a very busy man and besides, he lives in Texas.”

“Too busy to come see about his mama? You been here six months and I ain't never seen him.”

“Hush up,” she said. “Don't nobody visit you.”

“I ain't got nobody.” He threw his hands up. “But I'm just saying.”

“Well, he will be here soon and I couldn't be more thrilled.”

Several more of her “friends” came over to the table, and they laughed and talked about the weather, the new overnight tech, and a little bit of everything else. Joyce could tell that they were surprised at how pleasant she was.

They had no idea. Julian was her heart. Her precious baby who had always had her back—unlike her backstabbing daughter.

“Well, it's time for me to go,” she said, glancing at her watch.

Joyce had dressed in her finest outfit in anticipation of Julian's
visit. She had on the pearls and the earrings that he had sent her for Mother's Day.

“She act like she's going to see her man,” Wanda mumbled. Joyce ignored her. They were just jealous. She wasn't going to let them steal her joy.

She made her way to the lobby, where she took a seat and anxiously awaited her son's arrival.

“Somebody sure is excited,” the morning nurse, a nice woman named Amanda, said. “But then again, I can see why you would be.” She motioned toward the young man walking down the corridor with a gigantic bouquet of roses. Just the sight of her son walking toward her, the spitting image of his father, sent Joyce's heart fluttering. He had the same high cheekbones, the same bronze coloring, the same curly hair, and even his deep-set almond-shaped eyes were the exact replica of his father.

She smiled as he approached her. Because as much as he looked like his father, her son was nothing like Vernon Robinson. Julian was a dedicated family man. He was committed to his wife. He told her as much. He promised that he would never hurt a woman the way his father had hurt her. And Joyce respected and loved him so much for that.

“Mama,” he said, swooping her up and swinging her around.

She giggled like a schoolgirl. “Boy, put me down.” She took the flowers out of his hand, then kissed his cheek. “I am so happy to see you.”

“I'm sorry it has taken me so long to visit,” he said.

“You hush up with that. You are a busy family man. And you're trying to take care of your family. How are they?”

“They're good. I can't wait to show you pictures of the twins. They're getting so big.”

“I sure would like to see them,” she said.

She'd gone to visit the twins when Rebecca had given birth. Joyce stayed for two weeks, but Rebecca was one of those free-spirited women that liked to feed babies water before they were three months, and she'd gone ballistic because Joyce had let the babies suck on her finger. So Joyce headed back home, feeling that she had worn out her welcome.

She had to admit that she was a little hurt that she hadn't been invited back since, but Julian assured her it wasn't because of Rebecca, who he swore adored her. A part of Joyce wanted her son to demand that she go back with him. But he'd been adamant that she was in the best place. And that as soon as she got better he'd be more than happy to come and get her.

“So, come, come,” he said, taking her arm in his. “Tell me about how life has been treating you. What's been going on?”

Joyce draped her free arm through his. “Well, as you can see, I've been trying to stay busy. The doctors have me on this aggressive treatment that I hate.”

“Good. That's all I want to hear,” Julian replied. “And the therapist?”

Joyce rolled her eyes.

“Mother . . .”

“I'm going. I ain't gotta like it, but I'm going.”

“Good,” he said with a smile. “Have you talked to Lauren?”

She shrugged. “She was here last weekend. But today is about us.”

“Yes, it is about us. All of us. And that's why I asked Lauren to meet us here.”

Joyce lost her smile. The last thing she felt like doing was sharing her son with her daughter.

“Julian!” Joyce said. “I see her all the time. I just want to spend time with you.”

“And that would be my cue to exit.”

Joyce spun around to see her daughter standing behind her. She hadn't noticed Lauren walk up. Joyce probably should've tried to clean up what she meant, but Lauren had attitude written all over her face, so Joyce didn't think it was worth the try.

However, Joyce could tell by the look on her daughter's face that she didn't want to be there any more than Joyce wanted her there.

Looking at her daughter right now, Joyce truly wondered if the rift between them would ever be healed.

“Come on,” Julian said, “it's time to do some talking.”

L
auren couldn't help but notice the way her mother clung to Julian. The way she touched him. The love that resonated from her body for him. It had been a long time since she'd felt love of any kind from her mother.

A part of Lauren wanted to leave, to pretend she'd never come. But she'd promised Julian that she would show up.

“Hey, lil sis,” Julian said, trying to smooth over the uneasiness that was building in the room. Lauren guessed they were just going to ignore what her mother had just said.

Lauren swallowed hard, then forced a smile. “What's up, bro?” she said, approaching the two of them.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Hello, Lauren,” her mother replied. “I didn't mean . . . I mean, it's just been so long since I saw your brother and—”

Lauren held up a hand to cut off her mother. “Don't worry. I'm used to it.”

An awkward silence hung between them until finally Julian said, “So, you're not going to give me a hug?”

She gave her brother a halfhearted hug. She did like to see him, since she really did love her big brother. Six long months had elapsed since she'd seen him—when they admitted their
mother to this facility. But the tension that hung in the room was palpable. The no-show was being treated like the savior, and she didn't like it.

“You look great,” he said.

“I try,” she replied.

“Look at you”—he motioned to her shoes—“rocking Christian Louboutin and everything.”

That prompted a smile. “What do you know about red bottoms?” Lauren said, holding out her foot.

“Hmph. What man gave you those?” her mother said, a judgmental scowl across her face.

Lauren bit off the first remark that came to her head. “It's always so good to see you, Mother,” she said sarcastically.

Joyce walked over and kissed Lauren on her cheek. Lauren knew that was just for show. It was the first time her lips had been near Lauren in years, and she knew the only reason her mother was doing it now was so that Lauren looked like the bad guy.

“Well, I'm glad we're all here,” Julian said, smiling at the exchange. “I really want us to talk. Let's go in here.” He pointed to a small conference room off the lobby.

“Why are we going in here?” her mother asked as she followed him in.

Julian pulled out a chair. As they got situated around the table, a petite woman walked in the room.

Julian came over and greeted her. “You must be Dr. Lawson?”

“I am,” the woman said, shaking his hand. “It's a pleasure to put a face with the voice.”

Joyce was shocked as she looked back and forth between the two of them. “Why are you talking to her?”

Julian sat back down and took both of his mother's hands. “Mom, I'm really concerned about you. I want you to get better, and the therapist said it's crucial that we deal with some deep-seated issues.”

Joyce jerked her hands away. “I don't need to deal with anything.”

“No, it's crucial that we deal with
that day
.”

Lauren's heart dropped into the pit of her stomach. If she had had any inkling that this is what her brother wanted, she would have taken the weekend to go to Tahiti.

“Julian—”

“No, Lauren,” he said, cutting her off before she could protest. “We have brushed this under the rug long enough. We tiptoe around it. Mama is getting worse.”

“I am not,” Joyce said, getting agitated. “I told her all about it. I talked about it.” She now sounded on the verge of tears.

“No, you told me what happened. We didn't deal with anything,” Dr. Lawson corrected.

Julian turned to Lauren. “We've got to deal with this.”

“I just want to enjoy time with my son,” Joyce whined. “Is there anything wrong with that?”

“I'm not interested in being here for this,” Lauren added as she stood up. The only person liable to get screwed in this heart-to-heart was her.

“Well, as I told your brother on the phone, all three of you need to be here,” Dr. Lawson said.