Wifey 4 Life (2 page)

Other than his mom’s nosiness, both of Donovan’s parents were
very sweet people. They loved me from the first day they met me. Well, maybe his
father loved me more. I found him staring at me on several occasions. He’d even
made a comment about how lucky his son was, and that if he was younger, he would’ve
liked to have had me too.

I laughed it off. Little did he know, if I wasn’t involved with
his son, and he wasn’t married, I would’ve gotten with him, especially since he
was handsome and established.

Donovan had told me how long his father’s money was. He said
that his dad used to be an investment banker, that he and Donovan’s mother owned
a lot of land and real estate in Anguilla. I was really impressed.

His mother was a retired schoolteacher, so she lived day to day
doing absolutely nothing. I envied her just a tad bit, because she seemed like she
was the happiest woman alive. No drama at all. And she appeared not to have any
hang-ups, which I liked the most about her.

Donovan’s mom and dad were both of light brown complexion,
and very tall. He had to be at least six feet and some change. He and Donovan were
almost the same height. And his mother came in only a couple of inches shorter.
I looked like a midget compared to them. But it was cool, because they were very
nice people and they understood what loyalty meant. So my guess was, I was gonna
be around for the long haul. Well, at least until I saw differently.

The boat ride to Saint Martin was beautiful and serene. I couldn’t
have asked for a better life. Not only did I have plenty of money to live on, but
Donovan and his family had plenty of dough too. That meant I didn’t have to spend
mine. And I loved every bit of that picture, especially if he and I decided to get
married. I would be set for life. And the best part about all that was, it was all
legit. No hustling. No FBI. No narcotics detectives investigating him. And I didn’t
have to worry about niggas hiding out and plotting to kidnap me for ransom. Now
how much better could it get?

The moment we docked in Saint Martin at least five little boys

rushed toward the boat to help Donovan tie the rope to the metal
hook, to make a few coins to take back home to their parents. These little hustlers-in-the-making
knew how to get it from the rough, and I respected them for it.

Donovan gave all of them a few bucks, and they scattered like
roaches. “What store you want to go in first?” he asked me.

“Why? Is there a particular store you want to go in first?”

“No, baby. But I would like to stop off at the Cigar Emporium
and pick up a box of Cuban cigars for my father before we leave.”

I grabbed his hand. “Well, let’s go take care of that now.” He
smiled at me. “You are so sweet!”

I smiled back and winked at him. After we picked up a box of
his father’s favorite cigars, we raided the Gucci store first, and then the Versace.
The saleswoman in the Gucci store was very nice to us. But when we stepped foot
inside the Versace store, I felt a thick cloud of hate hovering over my head. Every
salesperson in there was gritting on me like they hated my fucking guts. Shit, I
didn’t know them, and they didn’t know me. So I wondered why they were throwing
shade at me.

While Donovan and I looked at their shoe selection, I heard
whispering not too far from where we were standing. I turned around to see who was
doing the whispering and noticed two dark-skinned chicks in a huddle, staring at
me. I couldn’t understand what they were saying because their words were barely
audible, but from their facial expressions, I was certain they were talking shit
about me.

Now I wanted to confront them but decided against it. I didn’t
want Donovan to see the ghetto side of me. And, besides, if I acted out like a complete
idiot, then they would have won the battle.

I decided to pull Donovan’s coat about what they were doing.
He looked back at them and smiled. I thought he was going to say something to them
about it, but the next thing I know, he was summoning them like they were servants.

“Oh, ladies, can you come here, please? We need you both to help
us with these shoes over here,” he told them.

Both of those tired-looking witches scrambled over to us. “How
can we help you?” one of them asked.

Donovan turned toward the shoes and pointed to at least ten different
pairs. “She needs to see all of these in a size eight and a half.” Both women looked
at him, and then they looked at each other.

“You want to see all of those?” the same woman asked.

“Yes. She wants to see all of those shoes in a size eight and
a half.”

“OK, we will be right back,” the woman replied, and then they

both hurried away.

I looked at Donovan. “Why did you tell them to get me all ten
of those shoes? I only liked four of them.”

He pulled me into his arms and held me tightly. “I only did it
to see the expression on their faces. And it was priceless.” He smiled and kissed
me on the forehead. “The reason why they were staring at you and making those ugly
facial gestures is because they’re jealous of you.”

“You think so?”

“Kira, look at you. You are beautiful. Any woman in their right
mind wouldn’t dare compete against you.”

I smiled bashfully. “Oh, stop it, Donovan.”

“But it’s the truth, baby. And, besides that, most Caribbean
women are jealous of American women, especially a woman of your complexion, because
you stick out even more. And to see you with a Caribbean man who is well-off makes
them even more jealous.”

“Well, I hope I never run into one of those crazy chicks who
wants to throw acid in my face because she’s in love with you.”

“You wouldn’t ever have to worry about anything like that. I’m
gonna always be by your side to protect you.”

I looked up at him with an expression of uncertainty. After a
few seconds I smiled and said, “I’m gonna hold you to that.”

O
ur shopping excursion lasted another hour and then we got back
on the boat and traveled the twenty minutes back to Anguilla. We dropped off our
bags at my house, and then we hurried over to his parents’ house. Their home was
beautiful. Like mine, it was a two- story home with huge louver windows. Mrs. Tate
didn’t have window treatments, so you could see inside. I thought it was very tasteful,
but the way my life had always been, to allow people to look into my house at their
leisure would’ve given me a creepy feeling. I needed my privacy.

When we entered his parents’ home, his mother was placing food
on the dining room table, while his father sat at the table and watched. I greeted
them both and took a seat at the table. Donovan asked his mother if she needed any
help, but when she told him no and to take a seat at the table, he did just that.
He and his father made small talk, while his mother made preparations for us to
eat.

I commented on how good the food smelled, which put a smile on
her face.

“Thank you, darling,” she replied. And then she asked me if I
ever had steamed red snapper with callaloo and sweet potatoes. I told her I did,
but I refused to tell her that I was introduced to that dish by my late husband.
I’d always tried not to tell them anything about my past, since Ricky was a huge
part of it. I did tell her that my favorite Caribbean dish was ackee and saltfish,
which she promised to cook for me the following morning.

Lunch was very good. That woman could cook her butt off. I asked
her to teach me how to cook like that, and she assured me she would.

After lunch Donovan and his father went outside to talk, which
left me in the house, and his mother could have her way with me. Sometimes I felt
uncomfortable when she would put me on the hot seat. I hated her Q and A sessions,
which seemed to last forever and a day.

Donovan had to save me a couple of times, but I really didn’t
see that happening this time. I knew she only questioned me to see what my motives
were and to see if I was fit to be with her son, which was only natural. If I were
in her shoes, I would do the same thing.

“You know Donovan wants to have children, right?”

“Yes, I know. Remember you and I talked about this before?”

“Has
he told you how many he wanted?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Are you willing to have that many?”

I smiled, thinking back to the day Donovan told me he wanted
to have at least five kids, since he was an only child and often felt lonely growing
up.

“I told him I wasn’t comfortable having that many kids, but I
could probably meet him in the middle.”

“That’s a nice way to come to a happy medium,” she commented.
“Well, this is supposed to be a surprise, but I must let you know that he plans
to propose to you as soon as you come back from the States.”

Totally caught off guard, I sat there motionless. “Are you all
right?” she asked me.

Trying to absorb what she had just told me, I said, “Yes, I’m
fine. I’m just trying to take in everything you just told me.”

She didn’t hesitate to ask, “What are your thoughts?”

Honestly, I was having mixed feelings, but I wouldn’t tell her
that. I didn’t want her to know about all the drama I’d experienced in my last marriage
that caused me withdraw from the subject of weddings. I did, however, love her son,
but at this particular moment I didn’t feel like I was ready to be engaged to him.
I wanted to take my time with our relationship, not wanting to rush into anything
like I did with Ricky and what I was about to do with Fatu’.

So I sat there in my chair, looked into Mrs. Tate’s eyes, and
lied. “I would love to marry your son, but I’m still mourning the loss of my late
husband.”

“Well, that’s understandable. In situations like that, sometimes
it takes some people longer to get over a loved one, but in this case, all Donovan
wants to do is get engaged. So would you accept his proposal?”

“Ummmm . . . yes, I would.”

“I sensed a little hesitation in your answer. Are you sure?
Because I would hate to see my son get let down.”

“I wouldn’t let down your son, Mrs. Tate. I love him too much
to do that to him.”

“Well then, it’s settled. You and he will get engaged when you
return from the States, and we’re gonna have a big celebration.” She stood and clapped
her hands together. “Now all I have to do is call all the relatives.” She walked
over to the kitchen drawer to pull out her address book.

I sat there and watched the excitement on her face. I could see
it now. She was gonna try to plan our fucking wedding.

K
endra called me back to follow up with me on the progression
of the sale of my house. For some reason, though, this call seemed odd. She wasn’t
being her normal self, so I asked her what was wrong. She gave me a spiel about
a deal that fell through. Hoping to raise her spirits, I reminded her that after
the paperwork for my house was signed, she would make a large commission, but she
brushed off my comment with a fake-ass laugh. Then she quickly asked me what time
I would be arriving at the airport. Her behavior seemed odd to me, but I let it
go.

“My plane will arrive in Houston at ten thirty-five in the morning.
So I’ll see you in the a.m.”

“Sounds good,” she said.

After I ended the call, I headed onto the balcony of my bedroom
to find Donovan. He had been out there for at least thirty minutes and looked like
he was deep in thought.

“What’s on your mind?” I asked him as I took a seat on his lap.

He was sitting on one of my wooden lounge chairs. It sat low
to the ground, so it felt like we were sitting on the bare floor. It was sort of
uncomfortable for me, so after a few minutes, I sat in the lounge chair beside him.

“I’m just thinking about how lucky I am to have you.”

I smiled. “Oh, baby, that is so sweet!” I placed my hand on his
knee. “No, I’m serious, Kira. I’ve been looking for a woman like you all my life,
and now that I finally got you, I feel like my life is complete.” Hearing Donovan
pour out his heart to me made me reflect back

on the marriage proposal his mother told me he had planned for
when I came back from the States. We’d only been together for a little over a month,
so for him to think about marrying me was somewhat of a pretty big apple to chew
on. He was in his late twenties, financially well situated, and didn’t have any
children lingering around, so he was a damn good catch.

But in the back of my mind I kept wondering if one of his skeletons
would rear its ugly head, and whether, when it did, it would be so bad that I wouldn’t
be able to handle it. I was tired of running into good prospects, and then after
some time passed, the real man came out. I couldn’t afford to get hurt again. The
next time I’d probably have a fucking nervous breakdown.

While I thought about the what-ifs, Donovan was still pouring
out his love for me. He even got down on his knees, which shocked the hell out of
me.

Next he went into the left pocket of his shorts and pulled out
a black box. I wanted to faint, but I knew I couldn’t. My heart did flip a couple
of times, and the palms of my hands became sweaty.

I waited patiently for him to pop the question, but since it
seemed like everything was going in slow motion, I opened my mouth to say something.
But he placed his finger against my lips to prevent me from saying anything. Then
he pulled his finger back from my lips and opened the black box. Inside was a beautiful
princess cut diamond set in white gold. The diamond almost blinded me.

“I know you and I haven’t known each other very long,” he began,
“but when you’re in love like I am in love with you, there’s no way I could’ve
put a time limit on when to ask you to marry me. So, will you marry me? And before
you answer my question, just take into consideration that I know you’re probably
still mourning your late husband, so we don’t have to get married right away. But
please don’t count me out, because I promise I will never hurt you, and if we ever
have any problems, I promise we will work through them. I would do any and everything
to keep us together, because I want to grow old with you.”