The Deal, the Dance, and the Devil (35 page)

Today, I let Adam handle our child. With quick steps, he
approached the boys, and with a smile, he welcomed Dougie into our happy home.

But Dougie said, “Mr. Langston, can you take me home now?”

Five seconds in our house and Ethan’s friend wanted to get out. I bet Ethan did, too.

“Sure,” Adam said as if it was normal for his friend to want to leave so soon. To Ethan, he asked, “Wanna ride with me?”

Our son couldn’t nod his head fast enough. He wasn’t about to be left in the house with his mad mama.

The boys charged out of the room, and Adam turned to me. We stared at each other, for just a moment, the same disbelief in his eyes that was in mine. Again, one of our children—and now one of their friends—had seen us at our worst. Because of Shay-Shaunté.

With only a slight nod, Adam left, putting our fight on pause. But it was still inside of me, brewing, and I knew it was the same for Adam.

This was just a cease-fire; the combat had stopped for a moment. But there would be no peace until Adam came to my side. That was the only way to end this war.

Chapter 57

T
HINGS HAD CERTAINLY CHANGED IN MY
world.

Today when I walked into Rumors to meet my girls, Ta-mica was there, as expected. But when I saw Brooklyn already sitting at the table, too, I knew I was in an alternate universe. I was right on time and Brooklyn was here before me?

I paused for a moment, staying steps away from the two of them, just watching. Their battles were always pure Calgon moments that took me away—just for a little while—from every problem I’d ever had.

But as I studied my girls, I could already tell that today wasn’t going to be one of those parties. Tamica and Brooklyn were in serious mode—leaning so close together that their foreheads almost touched. I knew their whispers were about me and my sudden phone call this morning asking them to meet me this afternoon.

Every incident of the past week rushed through my mind, and for a second, I wanted to turn around and go home.

But for what? Nothing was waiting there for me.

So I strolled toward the table as if my life wasn’t falling apart.

“What’s up?” I slipped into the booth next to Tamica, hugged her, then blew Brooklyn a kiss.

“The question is,” Brooklyn said, “what’s up with you?”

I shrugged off my coat. “Nothing much.”

“Uh-huh.” Brooklyn twisted her lips. “That’s why I haven’t spoken to you since 2011 began.”

“Sorry about that,” I said. “Oh, and happy new year. You, too, Tamica.” I grinned as if this was a regular get-together.

The waiter must’ve been following me, because he was right there at our table asking if we had made our lunch selections.

I said, “I wanna get a drink first.”

He pointed to the glass in front of me. “They already did that for you.”

I hadn’t even noticed the iced tea, and I pushed the glass away. “Let me have a glass of white wine.”

He nodded. “Do you want to order your entrees now?”

I shrugged and, with a glance, passed that ball to Brooklyn. It wasn’t like I was going to eat much.

Brooklyn and Tamica ordered their usual—a three-mile-high burger for Brooklyn and the seafood lasagna for Tamica.

“I just want a side salad,” I said, keeping my eyes on the waiter. I could feel Brooklyn’s and Tamica’s stares, but I wasn’t about to order food that I wasn’t going to eat.

“That’s all you’re having?” Tamica asked.

I turned back to the waiter. “Okay, make it a side Caesar.”

When the waiter walked away, Brooklyn said, “So, now you’re only drinking and not eating?”

“These days, I’m surviving on a diet of coffee, wine, and nightmares.”

Brooklyn exchanged a long glance with Tamica before she
said, “I guess things didn’t quite turn out right … with the money, the deal.”

I shook my head.

“Why haven’t you called me back?” Brooklyn asked.

“I’m sorry, but I’ve kinda been busy with trying to save my life. But now that I’m not working, I’ll have plenty of time.”

It was perfect timing—the waiter brought my wine just as I was getting ready to confess all to my friends. I took a single sip, then told them the whole story—everything since they’d last seen me on Christmas.

Tamica held my hand as I told them about the pain of the fifty hours when Adam had been away; then they leaned forward with anticipation as I told them about Adam coming home. When I got to every antic Shay-Shaunté had pulled, their mouths opened wide.

“Taxes!” Brooklyn exclaimed. “Oh, you should’ve called me. I would’ve cut that witch; if she wasn’t going to pay with dollars, she would’ve paid with her blood.”

“I thought about calling you.” I laughed, hoping that would take a little edge off this conversation. But my little chuckle did nothing—my girls were still on the edge, riveted and waiting to hear the rest.

At the part about Shay-Shaunté saying she was pregnant, Tamica gasped, but Brooklyn shouted, “The devil is a lie!”

“Turns out, you’re right. She’s not.” Did I feel bad as I told my girls all of Shay-Shaunté’s business about not being able to conceive and how that had happened? Not. At. All.

Finally, I closed out the story with what I’d come to call Adam’s confession.

This time, both of my friends gasped.

“Did Adam say he’s in love with her?” Tamica whispered just when the waiter came with our lunch.

“Adam said he doesn’t love her.” But then I shrugged, my body saying what my mouth wouldn’t.

“He’s not!” Tamica said strongly, as if the force of her words were greater than all of my doubts.

“Well, let’s bless this food,” Brooklyn said. She bowed her head and said, “Thank you, Lord.”

My and Tamica’s heads were still lowered and our eyes were still closed, waiting on Brooklyn to continue her usual sermonsize grace. But when she said, “Would you come on and tell us the rest,” I realized that I’d just witnessed the shortest blessing in Brooklyn’s history.

Pushing my salad aside, I said, “There’s nothing more to tell. Besides the fact Adam and I hardly speak to each other and my children have all seen the worst in me.”

“Wow!” Tamica and Brooklyn said through stuffed mouths.

They ate, and I took another sip of my wine.

Tamica shook her head. “This is what I was talking about. I hate to say I told you so. I knew this wasn’t a good idea.”

“Dang, Tamica! Do you have to come down on E like that right now?” Brooklyn glared.

“I’m not talking to her. I’m talking to you!” Tamica pointed at Brooklyn. “You were the one who told her to do this.”

“No,” I touched Tamica’s shoulder trying to pull her back from the brink of a battle with Brooklyn. “She didn’t do this; I’m a grown woman.”

“Naw, she’s right in a way,” Brooklyn said, surprising both of us. “I mean, I did kinda tell you to do it.”

“Not kinda,” Tamica smirked.

“All right.” Brooklyn rolled her eyes. “I guess I was just looking at the money part. I mean, you were my friend, you were in trouble, you needed money … how much damage could be done to a good marriage over a weekend?”

“Obviously, a lot!” Tamica answered for me.

Brooklyn ignored her. “I just thought you and Adam were so solid that nothing could affect you.”

“Nothing but the devil,” Tamica said, continuing as my spokesperson.

Brooklyn held the palm of her hand up in Tamica’s face while she spoke to me. “I never looked beyond the money, sweetie, and I’m really sorry for that.”

“You should be sorry,” Tamica said. “As friends we have to hold each other up. We can’t be leading each other down the road to hell.”

Brooklyn pushed back against the booth. “Okay! How many times should I say I’m sorry?”

“You don’t have to apologize.” I jumped in before Tamica could say something like seventy times seven. “Like I said, this was all me and Adam, and really, as bad as it’s been, I think we’re gonna be okay. We were too solid before to fall apart now.”

“You’re right about that,” Tamica said.

Brooklyn’s mouth was full, but she held up her fork to show her agreement with me.

“So can we now change the subject?” I asked, feeling bad enough. “How was the new year for you guys?”

“It was quiet. We were just in church. How’s Ms. Ruby? You guys decided not to go see her today?”

Brooklyn had no idea, but she’d just taken the conversation right back to where I didn’t want to be. “No, Adam and the children went.” I sipped the last of my wine as my girls stared first at me and then at each other.

I knew what they were thinking—for me not going to see the woman that I loved so much things had to be bad!

I stared into the bottom of my empty glass, still having a hard time believing that I hadn’t gone with Adam and the kids. But this morning, when Adam had met me in the kitchen with
only the mutter of a “Good morning” and then told me that we’d be leaving for Pearly Gates around noon, I knew I didn’t want to go. Not that I didn’t want to see Ruby. My mother-in-love, even in her incapacitated state, was the only thing that was steady in my life. I could’ve used my special time alone with Ruby, could’ve used the love that I still felt from her.

But I didn’t want the trade-off; for that short time with Ruby, I didn’t want to spend the hours riding down, then back, choking in tension. And I didn’t want to subject Alexa, Alana, and Ethan to that as well.

So I’d bowed out with a simple, “I’m not going.”

Adam had barely responded. Just given me a little nod like he hadn’t cared.

That was when I’d called my girls.

Tamica wrapped her arms around me and Brooklyn reached across the table, touching my hand.

“God’s got you,” Tamica said.

“And we do, too,” Brooklyn added.

I nodded. There was never a doubt in my mind that God and these two women would always be there for me.

The question was, With all that we were up against now, was it too little, too late?

Chapter 58

A
WEEK PASSED.
T
HEN ANOTHER.
A
ND
a third. The calendar was getting ready to change to February, and we’d heard nothing from Shay-Shaunté.

Not that her silence—or the lack of any kind of lawsuit—had made things normal at home. I’d apologized to all of my children, collectively and individually, and they’d all accepted my apologies, but they still tiptoed around as if an extra word or sound might detonate my wrath. I’d turned Alexa, Alana, and Ethan into the Stepford children—I swear, I’d never heard so many “Yes, ma’am’s,” and “No, ma’am’s,” in my life.

Even though the twins’ birthday party was fast approaching, they stayed subdued—at least in front of me. I heard them, though, sometimes in their bedrooms, or in the office talking to Adam, the air charged with their excitement as they planned the party, which was going to be held at The Waterfront, an upscale restaurant in Southwest. Their sweet-sixteen
bash (for teenagers only) would take place in the private area—the Red Room—downstairs.

Snagging that room at such a late date had been a major coup and cost big bucks, but it was what the girls wanted, and Adam was determined to bring joy into their lives. The twins and Adam had already laid out the party room for the restaurant manager—with a dance floor, a stage for the live band, and even a bar that would serve nothing but soda and fruit punch.

I smiled whenever I heard the twins, though it all seemed to be happening without me. I’d asked on many occasions what I could do to help. But according to my girls, Adam had done everything that was wanted; I wasn’t needed.

As a consolation prize, the twins asked me to help them address their invitations. I gladly jumped in, though even that process with my girls was strained. As we sat at the dining room table, Alexa and Alana kept their voices low and their chatter short. The thrill I heard in their voices whenever they were with Adam was not there for me.

Still, I helped them address the ninety envelopes, then the three of us carted the invitations to the post office.

It was then that my sensitive child conjured up the nerve to say something to me besides “good morning,” “thank-you,” or “please.”

As we stood in the post office line, Alana asked, “Mom, have you stopped working?”

It was a strange time to ask that normal question, but then it occurred to me that my daughter thought she was safer in public.

Keeping my voice as gentle, as soft, as normal as I could, I told the truth. “Yes and no. I’ve stopped working at Ferossity, but I’m looking for a new job.”

I was sure the twins had plenty of questions about that, but
they didn’t dare ask any more. They’d gotten away with that one—they were satisfied.

Alexa and Alana weren’t the only ones who stayed far away. Poor Ethan only said hello and good-bye. And although Adam kept me informed about the party and the matching Toyota sport coupes (instead of Range Rovers) that he’d ordered for the girls, he didn’t speak to me about much more.

There were times when I felt like I’d been cast off on an island. But I vowed to make it through this storm—didn’t everybody go through at least one in their life?

In the meantime, I did have enough to keep me busy. In the three weeks since I’d left Ferossity, I’d had four interviews. Everyone had been impressed with me; two of the companies were places where I could see myself building a career. I’d already returned for a second interview for the position I wanted most—the assistant to a literary agent.

Ellen Cohen had been an executive editor with one of the big New York publishing houses and had retired early to return to the place of her birth and open her agency away from the hustle of that big city. She was looking for someone to help with the start-up and was impressed with my credentials.

“Although, I have to admit, I’ve never heard of Ferossity,” she said as she stared at my résumé. “What an unusual spelling.”

“Yes,” I said. “It’s not a typo, it’s just unusual.”

“Why did you leave?”

I had anticipated this question; my desire had been to discuss it with Adam and come up with a great response. But since our communication was just about nonexistent, I’d worked this out by myself.