What's Done In the Dark (25 page)

“Mom, is it true?” Tahiry asked, standing over me. My precious daughter. So innocent, so oblivious. She’d been real subdued in the three days since I’d found out about Felise and Steven. At first I thought maybe she knew since Liz was with her the night of the party. But I had assumed Liz must not have known either because Tahiry hadn’t said anything about it, and to be honest, I was just too blinded by my anger to focus anything else.

But now, judging by the look on my little girl’s face, I knew without a doubt, she knew.

“So Nana slept with Daddy?”

“She’s not your nana anymore. And yes, her and your
daddy decided to get—”

“Paula!”

I stopped as my mom entered the room. She glared at me before turning to Tahiry. “Sweetheart, go to your room.”

Tahiry looked at me, pain in her eyes, but she didn’t argue as she walked out.

“Why did you stop me from telling her all the gory details?” I said, throwing my blanket back and sitting up on the sofa.

My mother’s hands went to her hips like she was disappointed in me.

“That’s grown folks’ business. You don’t need to be talking with your fourteen-year-old daughter about issues with your man.”

I rolled my eyes and stared out the window.

“Baby, I know you’re hurt,” my mom said, sitting down next to me. “I’m hurting for you. I’m just as shocked as you are. But it doesn’t surprise me.”

That made me do a double take. “What? I thought you liked Felise.”

“I do. Well, I did. But I told you, I’ve always been uneasy about that boyfriend-swapping thing y’all did.”

“Boyfriend swapping? We didn’t swap boyfriends.”

“Did Steven or did he not used to date her?”

“Well, yes, but—”

“See, y’all and all this newfangled, new-age, peace-and-love crap is just too much. In my day, you didn’t have no woman all up under your man like that, especially a woman that he had had relations with.”

“I didn’t have Felise up under him.”

“Shoot, every time you turned around, you were driving to a double date, hanging out together. I guess you just
wanted to pretend they’d never had a relationship.” She patted my leg. “But everything happens for a reason. You wouldn’t have had your beautiful family. I’m just trying to help you put things in perspective.”

“They both told me they didn’t have feelings for one another.”

“Obviously, they lied,” my mom replied. “I think they both may have really believed that, or tried to make themselves believe that. Maybe it was buried and they never acted on it out of respect, but something remained. But I’m sorry, I’m just from the school that friends don’t date friends’ men.”

“Do you think I’m to blame?”

“Why would you think you’re to blame?” my mom said.

“You told me I was going to drive my husband into the arms of another woman. Did I push and nag until he fell into my best friend’s arms?”

She let out a long sigh. “Well, you know, if we’re placing blame, then I’m as much to blame as you. I pushed you two into getting married. I worried so much about what folks would say about my daughter getting pregnant out of wedlock. But if I was being honest, you two didn’t love each other. Not like a husband and wife should. And when you told me how close he was to Felise, my gut didn’t feel right. But, that said, he was a good man and I wanted my granddaughter to come into this world in a proper fashion. I knew the day he proposed you didn’t want to marry him, but I knew if I pushed the right guilt buttons, you’d do the right thing. And you did, but you haven’t been truly happy. You tried, but you couldn’t. Your children are a blessing from God, but the timing wasn’t right, and if I could go back, I wouldn’t force you to marry a man you didn’t really love.”

“But I did love Steven.”

“
We
loved everything Steven represented—smart, successful, handsome, mannerable, from a good family. In the end, that blinded us both. Yes, you learned to love him. You did. You tried everything to be a good wife. But your heart wasn’t really there. So if you want to blame anyone, it can go all the way around. Me, you, Steven, and Felise.” She could tell I was getting outraged, and she continued on another track. “Still, the bulk of the blame lies on them. If the two of them had feelings back in the day, when they made the decision to bury their feelings, they should’ve kept them buried forever and always. If the Lord had meant for them to be together, they would’ve been together. And even if they couldn’t walk away from their own lust, they should’ve respected you enough to walk away from each other.” She lifted my chin and looked into my glistening eyes. “So you stop beating yourself up, because at the end of the day, the biggest blame goes to the two of them. The two of them were as wrong as Bobby and Whitney. You and Steven were together a long time. Felise and Steven are to blame for what they did. No one else. If they’ve been suppressing those feelings this long, they could’ve kept right on suppressing them.”

Her down-to-earth logic made me half smile. “Mama, I love you.”

“I love you, too, baby. And don’t you dare beat yourself up. You loved that man as best you could, and when all is said and done, whatever decision he made is on him. I’m sure he’s up there now explaining to God why he did what he did.”

“Or Satan,” I grumbled.

“Hush that talk,” my mom said. “It’s a good thing we serve a forgiving God. Don’t you want to see him again?”

“Yeah, because I need to give him a piece of my mind.”

“And ain’t you going to Heaven?”

“Yes.”

“Well, you’ll see him there, and I’m sure God will give you a pass to smack Steven upside his head.”

I forced a small smile, but it quickly faded. “I’m never going to forget what Felise did.”

“And that’s understandable. You don’t have to forget. Just at some point, you gotta forgive. If for no other reason than hate doesn’t need to reside in your heart.”

I wiped the slow tear that was rolling its way down my cheek. “I can’t believe they got together. I’ve been sitting here all night, tossing and turning, wondering how long they were having an affair, how did it happen. How could they both just keep smiling in my face while stabbing me in my back? I just can’t believe this.”

“Well, the only way you’re going to get answers is to talk to her,” my mom said matter-of-factly.

“Never! I’m never speaking to her again.”

“Honey, you’ve been through a lot. Ask Felise what you want to know. Vent, yell, cuss her out, whatever you gotta do. Just don’t keep it bottled up. If you’re bent on holding grudges, you may become so wrapped up in past wrongs that you can’t enjoy the present. If you don’t get past some of the wounds of the past, you tend to bring them into everything else you pursue.”

“That’s easier said than done,” I said with a scowl.

My mom didn’t let my attitude dissuade her. “But it is doable. Nobody is saying forget. You’ve got to understand
that forgiveness also doesn’t justify or excuse what the other person did. It just helps you gain a sense of peace.”

Peace? That was laughable. I didn’t feel like I’d ever have peace again.

“Just think about what I’m saying,” my mom said. “If not for you, for your family.”

My bingo-playing, warped-Bible-verse-quoting mom had actually said something profound. Too bad I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to fully receive her words.

54

Paula

I HAD MANAGED TO GET
off the sofa, shower, and even fix me and the kids some breakfast when my front doorbell rang. My mom was in the back and the kids were upstairs, so I removed the last of the bacon from the pan, took the skillet off the stove, and headed to the door.

I looked out the peephole and suddenly wished I had that hot bacon grease in my hand.

“You have a lot of nerve showing your face here,” I said, swinging the door open. I couldn’t believe that Felise Mavins was standing on my doorstep.

“I know,” she humbly responded. She looked tired and puffy-eyed, in a wrinkled maxi dress and some flip-flops.

I expected Felise to launch into a rationalization, trying to explain away what she’d done. Instead, she stood there waiting.

“So, can I come in?” she finally said.

“No,” I replied. It was taking everything in my power not
to revert to my Southside DC ways and drop-kick this trick right here on my doorstep.

“Then, I’m just going to say what I have to say right here,” she said, raising her head like she’d found some courage.

“You can say what you want to my front door because I’m about to slam it in your face.” I took a step back and was surprised when I bumped right into my daughter. She was peering over my shoulder, looking out at Felise.

“Tahiry, go back to your room,” I said

I expected Tahiry to protest, beg to stay, anything. But she just glared at Felise before turning and heading back down the hall.

“Please? Can I just have five minutes?” Felise said.

I wanted to tell her where she and her five minutes could go, but I needed to hear what she had to say. I finally stepped aside to let her in.

“Mind if I sit down?” Felise asked as I shut the front door.

“Yeah, I do,” I replied. She didn’t need to have a seat because she wasn’t going to be here long. The only reason I had let her in was because I needed to hear how and why, not that anything she said could justify her betrayal, but I did need to make sense of it.

“Paula, you have every right to hate me,” Felise began.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” I replied, folding my arms across my chest.

“I just . . . I just thought you might have questions, and I wanted to give you answers.”

“Oh, there are answers to this? I mean, you really have an explanation as to why you screwed my husband?” I stood in front of her, my arms crossed. I never had any intention
of sitting down because I needed to look this tramp straight in the eye.

Tears welled in Felise’s eyes. I was not moved.

“No, I don’t,” she replied. “There is no rational reason to explain what I did. But I did want to—”

“How long?” I said, interrupting her.

“How long what?”

“How long were you having an affair?”

She looked surprised. “We weren’t having an affair.”

“You liar,” I snapped.

She was upset that I would make such an accusation. “I’m not expecting you to believe anything I’m saying. I lost you. I lost my husband. I lost everything.”

“Boo-hoo, cry me a freakin’ river,” I shot back.

“I’m not looking for sympathy.”

“Good, because if you are, you rang the wrong damn doorbell.”

“I’m just saying, you already hate me, justifiably so. So I have no reason not to be honest. So whatever you ask me, I’ll tell you the absolute truth.”

“Do you even know what that is?” I willed back the tears. No way was I going to shed a tear in front of her.

She nodded.

“How long?” I repeated.

She looked me dead in the eye. “We were
not
having an affair. It was just a one-time thing.”

“Come on, Felise. You can do better than that,” I said, rolling my eyes. “So all these years I had you in my home, up under my husband, y’all were secretly pining after each
other?”

“No, absolutely not. Steven never did anything inappropriate. And we never crossed any lines. We loved and respected you too much,” she said defensively.

“Don’t say that!” I yelled, jabbing a finger in her face. She flinched. “Don’t you ever say that again.” My voice was cracking. “My husband didn’t love me and you damn sure didn’t because love would’ve stopped you from checking into a hotel room with my husband. Love would have stopped you before you did the butt-naked dance with the father of my children. And love wouldn’t have let you stand by my side, pretending to be my friend, conv—” I paused as I remembered the last few weeks. Then I couldn’t help but release a pained laugh. “Convincing me to drop my quest for answers. ‘You’re paranoid, Paula.’ ‘There is nobody else, Paula.’ ‘Let it go, Paula,’ ” I said, mocking her. “And it was just a game so I wouldn’t find out you were the slut that was sleeping with my husband!”

“I’m sorry. It was a mistake.”

I couldn’t help it. I reached back and slapped her as hard as I could. She grabbed the side of her face but didn’t respond.

My chest was heaving as I stepped up in her private space. She cowered but stood her ground. “You come in here, pretending like you’re this lost little puppy who didn’t know what was going on, oblivious to everything that was happening all around her, and then calling it a mistake? That’s moronic stupidity, and a lame throw at redemption. You can call the encounter whatever you want, temporary amnesia or carnal mind block. It was selfish, and you didn’t care about anyone but yourself.”

“I made a mistake,” she whispered, nursing her cheek.
“A horrible, horrible mistake. I’d been drinking, and we both just happened—“

“Don’t give me that blame-it-on-the-alcohol mess,” I hissed as my chest heaved up and down. “The fact that it’s so easy to blame circumstances instead of yourself makes me sick to my stomach!”

“I’m not trying to make excuses.” Tears were streaming down her face. “I just want you to know I’m so, so sorry. I just bumped into him at the hotel. I was sad. He was sad.”

“And you gave him a shoulder to cry on. You comforted him right to the point of ecstasy.” I hoped my words stung because each of them was meant to pierce what little soul she had left.

“It just happened.”

I slammed my hand on the wall right behind her head. “That’s not an excuse! You don’t just happen to screw your best friend’s husband. If you bump into him at a hotel and you’re upset and he’s upset, and you’re drunk and he’s drunk, worst case, you sit there all night and commiserate and then you take your ass home!”

“I know.”

“No, obviously you don’t.” We stood in a face-off until finally I said, “I guess you want to say this is my fault for how I treated him. I guess you want to tell me how he never loved me anyway and only married me because I was pregnant with Tahiry.”

Her eyes grew wide. “No, I would never say something like that.”