The Replacement Wife (11 page)

“S
o, what should I tell my dad we talked about on our outing?” Deirdre asked Chloe.

Chloe rolled her eyes and stared at the road. She had agreed to drop Deirdre off at the Cracker Barrel restaurant in Conyers, a place that none of her grandmother's friends would ever go for lunch.

“You can tell him we talked about your taste in boys,” Chloe replied. “You need to find someone who can take you to a nicer place for lunch if they're trying to be your beau.”

“My beau? You mean my boo?”

Chloe blinked slowly. This girl was in need of so much grooming. Even though the whole “mentoring” idea was a ruse, Chloe almost wanted to do it for real. She knew Deirdre didn't have a mother, but she did have a grandmother. What in the world was Estelle teaching Deirdre about the opposite sex?

“No, I mean your beau. You're getting to the age where you should start thinking about your future. Like what kind of man you'd like to marry.”

Deirdre burst into laughter. “Stop playing, Chloe! I am sixteen. I am not thinking about a husband right now.”

“Well, you should. You could end up making a mistake that could jeopardize your future.”

“My future is real bright, Chloe. Bright and rich.”

“You think you know everything, don't you?”

Deirdre laughed again. “No, not everything. But your man advice is suspect, so I think I'd rather listen to an expert. Maybe I should ask Montana for some advice.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Chloe slammed on the brakes at the red light and glared at Deirdre.

“You are awful touchy about Montana, aren't you?” Deirdre asked. “Well, maybe you should be, because my dad took her shopping this morning. Right before you came to pick me up.”

“He. Did. What?”

“Apparently she needed new running shoes or something. They hopped in the Aston Martin with the top down and left the mansion.”

Chloe swallowed and tried to determine how much of what Deirdre said was fact and how much was fiction. Deirdre's smirk didn't help matters, because it was so cocky and know-it-all.

“He's going to buy her running shoes? Maybe he thinks she's fat and is just trying to help her get in shape.”

Chloe tried to convince herself that this was the case. Even as she said the words, she felt her heart stop racing. Yes, that's what it was. That ba-donka-donk was too big for her man's liking. Montana probably was at risk for high blood pressure, and Quentin didn't want to be responsible for paying any of her bills.

“She sure didn't look fat with that tight sundress she had on. It wasn't something I'd wear, but I guess it was cute on her.”

Horns honking behind Chloe made her look up at the light. It had changed, but she was still sitting there. Chloe pressed the gas a little bit too hard and the tires squealed.

“You okay, Chloe?” Deirdre asked.

Chloe narrowed her eyes at Deirdre. The heffa knew exactly what she was doing. She was enjoying this way too much.

Chloe squeezed the steering wheel tightly, trying to channel her frustrations there. She couldn't believe that her man was out shoe shopping with Montana, and that she was wearing an outfit trying to entice him.

“Why wouldn't I be okay? I'm not concerned with that low-class domestic worker,” Chloe finally said.

“Well, I would be if I was you. I was just telling you because I don't think you should let her move in on my daddy like that.”

“You think she's moving in on him?”

Deirdre nodded. “Of course she is! She's broke and single!”

“I guess you do have a point.”

Chloe pulled into the restaurant's parking lot and up to the front door. Deirdre jumped out of the car and smiled at Chloe.

“When are you coming back to get me?”

“You're going to have to find your own ride home. I have something to take care of.”

Deirdre's eyes widened. “What am I gonna tell my dad?”

“Don't worry. I'll cover for you. Just make sure you get home before five.”

“What are you gonna do?” Deirdre asked. “You're about to go off on Montana, aren't you?”

“Oh, no ma'am. I don't do that. I do not have hood-rat tendencies, but I would like to see Montana's new shoes.”

Deirdre tossed her head back and laughed. “I want to be there for this! It's gonna be like an episode from
Real Housewives
.”

Chloe waved good-bye to Deirdre as she drove off from the restaurant. She couldn't believe she'd let that nanny get in her man's radar. It was time to pull out her full arsenal and let this nanny know that she was the boss.

Q
uentin and Montana rode in silence after their shoe shopping was finished. He was kicking himself for even initiating the outing to begin with. His initial thought was that she needed shoes, that she probably couldn't afford the right ones, and that in some way he wanted to thank her for the French toast and the flowers.

Then he saw her come in the house from running, noticed how those sweat pants hugged her curves and found himself looking forward to spending time with her. When she'd changed into the sundress he wanted to spend the whole day with her. He enjoyed how excited Montana had gotten when she'd seen his automobile collection. Chloe was rarely impressed with him anymore. She'd seen it all.

“Have I offended you, Montana?” Quentin asked.

“No, Mr. Chambers. Oh, thank you for the running shoes. Please forgive my bad manners.”

“You're welcome. As long as you're with our household, you can have anything you need. Don't hesitate to ask.”

“Well, I better get while the getting is good. It sounds like Chloe plans on giving me my walking papers as soon as the two of you walk down the aisle.”

Quentin wondered how he should respond to this. Of course, Montana had no idea he was thinking of ending things with Chloe. He wasn't even sure if he wanted to go back to being alone.

“I'm not sure what Chloe communicated to you, but I haven't proposed marriage to her. So . . . um . . . your job is safe for now.”

Montana nodded and glanced out the window.

“Montana, what's wrong? Why are you upset all of a sudden? Tell me what I did wrong!”

“Nothing, Mr. Chambers! I have a lot on my mind. You didn't do anything.”

Now she was lying. Quentin could tell.

“Okay, well, if you aren't angry with me, then I'd like to take you somewhere else before we go back home.”

Montana frowned. “You're playing games with me, Mr. Chambers. It's very unkind.”

“No, no, no! I'm not. I promise! I just want to thank you for what you've done with the kids. They're happier somehow.”

“You pay me to take care of the children.”

“But I also want to thank you for the French toast, the flowers in my office. For everything. I was . . . well, I was hoping we could be friends. I don't have many. You just met one of them.”

“What about Chloe? She's your friend.”

Quentin drew in a sharp breath. He chose his words carefully. “Chloe has been a good friend over the years.”

“Okay. I'll be your friend. But where are you taking me? I don't like being surprised.”

“First, stop calling me Mr. Chambers. My friends use my first name.”

Montana cracked a tiny smile. “Quentin, where are you taking me?”

“To Transitions, the foundation house. Would you like to go?”

Finally, a real smile from Montana. One that lit up her face and the entire car.

“I'd love to visit there, Quentin. Thank you for the invite.”

For the rest of the way to the country house outside of Douglasville, Georgia, Montana's chatter filled the car. Quentin heard all about her college days at Clark Atlanta University, and how she couldn't wait to be a teacher. He found out that she had family in Cleveland, Ohio—an aunt and cousins. Her mother had died while she was in high school.

It was information overload for Quentin, but he was okay with it, because Montana was smiling again—and he sure enjoyed that.

“Is this the house, Quentin? Oh my goodness! It's beautiful!”

Quentin looked out at the house with Montana. It was a grand sight to behold on the first time seeing it. It was two stories and white, with huge roman pillars and porches that wrapped around the entire house on both stories.

Montana didn't even wait for Quentin to open her door when he stopped the car. She wanted to see more, and he was excited to show her. This was his life's work.

One of the nurses opened the door as Quentin and Montana approached. She looked surprised to see Montana. Quentin usually came alone, so this would be different for everyone.

“How's Alex today?” Quentin asked, as soon as they got to the porch.

The nurse shook her head. “Not so good, sir. But she won't take any meds right now. She says she's writing. She suffers for no reason.”

“Not being alert enough to write is even worse to Alex than the pain. Charlene, this is my friend Montana. Montana, Charlene is the head nurse here.”

Montana hugged Charlene, and it caught her off guard. “It's nice meeting you.”

“I'm gonna show her around, Charlene.”

“Okay, Quentin. Let me know if you need anything.”

Quentin showed Montana the reading room. The walls were covered with books, and the lighting was soft. There was one woman reading with a bandana wrapped around her head—Ola. She'd been at the home for a month and had stage-four pancreatic cancer. Most days she didn't leave her bed, but today she was full of energy. Ola was near the end. They always got energized at the end of the battle.

“Hey, Quentin. Who's this?” Ola asked.

“She's my friend Montana.”

Montana waved. “Hello.”

“Well, hello, beautiful. I was pretty like you a long time ago. My name is Ola.”

“You're still beautiful,” Montana said. “Can I . . . can I pray for you? Is it all right?”

Montana looked at Quentin when she asked, but Ola replied, “Yes, chile. Pray for me. I'm gonna see Him soon, so I can use all the prayer I can get.”

Quentin watched in awe as Montana went over to Ola and laid her hands on her. He had no idea what Montana was saying in the prayer. She whispered so that only Ola could hear her. When she finished, Ola had tears in her eyes, and she hugged Montana with the little amount of strength that she had.

“Thank you, sweetie,” Ola said.

“You're welcome.”

Montana walked back over to Quentin. “Who else do I get to meet?” she asked.

“Come on. I want you to meet Alex.”

Ola laughed. “Alex ain't gonna like her.”

“Yes she will. Ola, you are a mess.”

Quentin showed Montana all the rooms on the way upstairs to Alex's bedroom. They could hear Alex's low moan as they approached the room. Alex didn't even realize she made the sound, but she was in so much pain without her medicine that she made it without meaning to.

“Alex, babe. Look who's here.”

Alex looked up at Quentin and Montana. “Oh, you done brought your girlfriend up in here. You real bold, Q.”

Montana's eyes widened. She didn't know whether to laugh or be nervous.

“Alex, stop! This is my friend Montana.”

Alex's eyebrows went up. “Oh. The nanny. I've heard lots about you.”

“You have?” Montana asked.

“Yes, Q tells me everything. One day, he's gonna take me out of here, and all you groupies are gonna have to fall back.”

Montana clapped her hand over her mouth to contain her laughter. “Groupies?”

“Yeah, all of y'all trying to get with my boo. But he built me this big old house out in the country. He lets my staff live here too.”

Quentin crossed the room and kissed Alex on the forehead. “How you feeling today?”

Alex paused. “Let's just say, I am one hundred percent alive today.”

“It's pointless to tell you to relax,” Quentin said, and then he motioned for Montana to come over. “Could you do for Alex whatever you did for Ola?”

“Do what?” Alex asked. “You some kind of voodoo lady? I'm a Christian. Well, mostly. Somebody needs to help me repent for lusting after Q, but other than that I should be straight.”

Montana looked at Quentin.

“If I can stop laughing long enough,” Alex continued.

“Alex! Stop playing and let her pray for you.”

Alex frowned at Quentin. “What you doing? Giving me my last rites? I'm not Catholic.”

“Do I look like a priest?” Montana asked.

“Ooh! She tried it! Was I talking to you, groupie?” Alex asked.

Quentin sat down in the chair next to Alex's bed. “I should've known she would be difficult. See, Alex here believes that she and I are going to run off into the sunset together.”

“We would if it wasn't for that gold digger Chloe,” Alex said.

“Oh my,” Montana clutched the necklace around her throat and giggled.

Alex cleared her throat and laughed. “I'm just playing. I don't get to have much fun around here. Everyone is a fun stealer up in this piece. Please pray for me. I'm in a lot of pain, but I'm trying to finish my writing before I leave. Q says he's going to publish my stuff posthumously.”

Quentin nodded at Montana. “I keep telling her that she's got plenty of time to finish it, but she pays me no attention.”

“Now we both know that's not true,” Alex said. “So if you've got some prayer skills, then lay it on me.”

Montana stepped up to Alex's bedside and laid her hands on Alex's body. Then she said another quiet prayer. Quentin could hear bits and pieces of her words. He heard enough to know that she was anointed for this. He wanted to bring her to Transitions every time he came.

After Montana was finished praying, Alex said. “Thank you. I feel like I can get through this for a couple hours. As much as I love looking at your pretty face, Q, can you go spend some time with this girl? I've got work to do, and I don't want to be rude.”

Quentin kissed her head again. “Stop teasing me, Q,” she said.

“Come on, Montana. Let's allow Alex time to finish her masterpiece.”

“Bye, Q. Bye, groupie,” Alex said.

Montana sucked her teeth. “Bye, Alex.”

“I'm just playing. Bye, Montana. Nice meeting you. Q,” Alex said. “You ought to bring her again.”

Quentin smiled. “I hope she'll come back again, Alex. See you later.”

Once they got outside Alex's room, Montana burst into quiet tears.

“What's wrong?” Quentin asked.

She waved her hands in the air. “I'm sorry. I'm okay. It's just . . . she's so young.”

“Cancer doesn't discriminate.”

Montana nodded. “I know.”

“You want to see the rest of the grounds?”

Montana nodded. “Yes.”

Quentin showed her all around the outside of the house, including the pool area with the saltwater whirlpools that had been put in for pain control. There was a picnic area and a little playground.

“Why is there a playground?” Montana asked. “Do you have children here?”

Quentin shook his head. “No, but sometimes the women who stay here have children.”

After they were done touring, Quentin said a second good-bye to Ola and Charlene and checked in on the other two residents, Carmen and Layla.

When they were back in the car, Montana was silent for a while. But it wasn't an angry silence this time. She really did seem like she had a lot on her mind now.

“Quentin, Transitions is a blessed place. Thank you for bringing me here.”

“I don't know what made me want to show you, but I'm glad I did.”

“I'm really excited to help with the fund-raiser ball now.”

“How is that going, by the way?” Quentin asked. “Are my mother and Chloe driving you crazy yet?”

“We only met one time so far, and it was okay.”

Quentin nodded as he drove away from Transitions and headed back up the long road that led to I-20.

Montana said, “I've never been friends with a boss before.”

“I've never been friends with a nanny before,” Quentin said. “We're even.”

Quentin stopped the car at a tiny ice cream stand. He didn't want the time with Montana to end, and he loved the peach ice cream that the small establishment made.

“You want some ice cream?” Quentin asked. “It's homemade and delicious.”

Montana hesitated. “Don't you think I should be getting back to the children? Maybe they need something.”

“Did anyone call you?”

“Well, no, but that doesn't mean . . . well, it is a weekday, so I'm on the clock.”

“But the kids are on spring break, so you're fine. Plus, I'm the boss.”

Montana smiled again. “You're right, Quentin. Ice cream it is.”

Quentin jumped out of the car and rushed to open Montana's door. She rewarded him with another smile. He thought he'd go on all day doing nice things for Montana if she'd keep smiling like that.

“Do you like peach?” Quentin asked, as Montana delicately stepped out of the car.

“Yes.”

“Then you have to get theirs. It's incredible.”

Quentin got two cones and led Montana over to a little table next to a blossoming magnolia tree. He sat next to her on the side of the bench facing the trees so that there was a magnolia-scented breeze. The fragrance of the trees along with the sweet aroma of the ice cream—not to mention the even sweeter view—made Quentin want to sit there all day.

“This is so good, Quentin,” Montana said. “I would get so fat if this place was closer to home. I'd be here every day.”

Quentin laughed. “You could just run off the calories. Those shoes you have are going to make you think you can run a marathon.”

“I hope so. I've never had to work out much before, but the older I get, the more I spread. I'm hoping this helps.”

“There is nothing wrong with your . . . spread. But running will make you healthier.”