The Perfect Mistress (2 page)

They drove in silence that lasted so long that Lauren wondered if maybe her dad was really mad at her. Because whenever they were riding together, they always talked and laughed. Sometimes they would even dance in their seats as they listened to one of her daddy's Marvin Gaye cassette tapes.

She was too afraid to say anything, though. She didn't even want to ask him to turn on the radio. After five minutes, he finally spoke up. “You know you can't do that, honey.”

She was relieved when he said “honey.” He was back to not being mad again.

He continued: “You can't hide in my truck. It could be dangerous. And I'm sure your mom is worried silly. In fact,” he announced as he swung the truck into a gas station, “I'm going to pull up to this pay phone and let her know that you're with me.”

Lauren felt every muscle in her body get tight. “Maybe
you shouldn't call Mom,” she said, afraid of getting in trouble. Her mother was the one who did the disciplining in the family.

“Don't worry,” her father said. “I'll make sure she's not mad, okay?”

That eased Lauren's fears a bit. Her father was always looking out for her. He pulled up in front of the pay phone, opened the door, but then paused before he got out. He said, “I'll take care of your mother, but you have to do something for me.”

“What?” she asked, excited again. She would do anything that her father asked.

He leaned over the seat, looming in her face as he said, “You can't tell your mom what you saw, okay? You can't say anything about what happened.”

Lauren frowned.

He added, “This has to be our little secret.” His voice was soft, but stern when he said that last word.

Lauren folded her hands and shifted in her seat. Her mom had always taught her that she should always tell the truth, no matter what anyone else said.

Then he did one of those things that her mom and daddy did to her all the time—he read her mind. “Don't worry, you won't be lying. We're just not telling her because it would make your mom very sad.” He paused to let those words sink in. Then came the words that would settle everything. “You don't want to make your mom sad, do you?”

Lauren whipped her head from side to side. Of course she wouldn't want to do that. Her mom was already so sad lately. Her mother wore a lot more frowns than she did smiles.

The door on his side of the truck was still open as he
continued: “And if you told your mom this, she might get more than sad, she might get mad.”

When she got mad, her mom yelled. Sometimes Lauren even got a spanking.

Her father said, “Your mom might get mad and leave. She might leave me and take you and your brother far, far away. And then, do you know what would happen?”

Lauren's eyes were wide and filled with fear as she shook her head, scared of what his next words would be.

“She might never let me see you again.”

Inside, Lauren screamed. Never see her daddy again?

“Do you want that?”

“No, Daddy! No!” she cried, already feeling the loss. She loved her father so much and if she couldn't see him every day, she'd die for sure.

“So, do you understand, this has to be our little secret?” he asked.

Lauren could hardly breathe, but she nodded. “Yes, Daddy.” There was no way that she would ever say a word about what she saw today. This day would forever be their special secret.

P
lease, Joyce!”

Her husband's words played over in her mind.

“Please forgive me!”

Joyce leaned back on the cushioned wrought iron patio sofa, and as she stared blankly at the thick woods on the edge of her backyard, she relived the fight she'd had with Vernon that morning.

“Please. Please. Please.”

It seemed like Vernon was always begging. This morning he'd been trying to explain the hooker-red lipstick that she'd found on the edge of his shirt collar. She shook her head—he was a walking cliché.

“Mom, can I please go to the arcade with Sam and Terry?”

Joyce turned toward the sound of her eleven-year-old son, Julian. He and Lauren were the constants that made her heart smile. And while she adored her daughter, it was Julian, with his nurturing, loving self, who was her pride and joy. Maybe it was the way he wiped her tears whenever he saw her crying. Or the flowers he would pick on his way home from school for her, just because he wanted to put a smile on her face.

Vernon could learn a thing or two from his son.

“Please, Ma. Sam's mom will take us and pick us up.”

She took in her rail-thin son, who had his father's curly hair and hazel eyes. She knew that one day he'd grow up to look just like his daddy. She could only pray that he didn't act like him, too.

“Yes, sweetheart, you can go. Just be careful and be back by eight.”

He raced over and hugged her. “Thank you so much! I love you.”

“I love you, too. There's a twenty-dollar bill in the jar on the kitchen table. Get that for the arcade.”

“You rock, Mom!” he exclaimed before darting back inside.

Joyce watched her son take off. He and Lauren were the reasons she'd endured so much. She wanted to give them a good life. And Vernon had provided that. At least for the children.

With the remote on the table, Joyce clicked a button and the air filled with surround sound. She pressed the channel button, finally settling on a jazz station. Then she leaned back again, hoping that music would take her away.

But her thoughts stayed on her husband, and her mind wandered back through all of the years, back to the beginning, when she'd been filled with so much hope.

It had happened in a moment. That moment when she first laid eyes on Vernon Robinson. One of North Carolina's sudden summer rainstorms had thrown them together. One minute, the sky was that gorgeous shade of serenity, and the next, rain poured from the heavens.

Joyce had just paid Raven to have her hair roller-set. She was happy because she couldn't afford to have her hair done more than every few months. Spotting the diner right around the corner
from the beauty shop, she dashed toward the door. But just as she reached for the handle, a man moved in next to her.

“Oh,” she said, trying to get inside.

He opened the door. “You first,” he said, though they both jumped through the narrow space and into the diner together.

They stood at the entrance, safe from the storm.

“What just happened?” he asked, looking out.

“Just one of our little rainstorms.”

“Little?” He peeked through the window. “It looks like a little storm that plans to stay around a while.”

“Yeah,” she said absently, thinking that she really needed to get back to her dorm. Joyce had only stepped out to get her hair done before Raven left for her vacation, and she planned to get right back to studying for her finals. As the first one in her family to attend college, she had a lot of pressure on her to do well. For the first two years she had. But this junior year had been challenging, and she wanted to put in as much time hitting the books as she could.

“Don't sound so disappointed,” he said.

Without looking at him, she said, “I just have so much to get done.”

“Me, too,” he said. “But there's nothing we can do unless we both want to get out there and fight the rain without umbrellas.”

His sensible comment made her run her hand over her hair. He was right: there was no way she could go back outside. She sighed as she looked around the diner filled with students, college professors, and suited businessmen. They might have been a poster for the Research Triangle.

“I have an idea,” the guy said. “Why don't we have lunch together?”

Joyce didn't know where that had come from.

He said, “I mean, since we're already here.”

She looked him up and down. He looked vaguely familiar. But she said, “I don't know you.”

He held out his hand and waited, forcing her to take it. “I'm Vernon Robinson,” he said, chuckling. “I'm a student at Duke . . . Duke Law . . . and everyone says I'm a nice guy. Is that enough information about me to have lunch?”

“Yes,” she said, thinking that he could have stopped with his name. No wonder he looked familiar. This was
the
Vernon Robinson, Valerie Abraham's fiancé.

As a waitress led them to a table, all kinds of thoughts floated through Joyce's head. She'd heard a lot of talk on the street about Valerie, the daughter of one of the most prominent doctors in Durham, and about the up-and-coming man who'd been featured on television and in all the major media when he'd been named editor of the
Duke Law Journal
.

Joyce was surprised that she hadn't recognized him right away, though she hadn't really paid much attention when he'd appeared on TV. But now that she sat across from him, Joyce saw why everyone was talking about Vernon Robinson. Not only was he smart, destined to be one of Duke's most acclaimed graduates, but this third-year law student was fine—Harry Belafonte sophisticated with extra-oomph fine. And he had class; she could tell by the way he held the menu, then asked her what she wanted before he gave both of their orders to the waitress.

He is exactly the kind of man I want to marry.

The thought of Valerie didn't enter Joyce's mind again. She didn't like thinking much about Valerie anyway. Back in high school, she'd tried to befriend Valerie when she'd worked
at a church bazaar and Valerie had sauntered through. But Valerie and her snooty friends had dismissed her with their turned-up noses and sneers.

She'd felt like the lowest thing on earth on that day. Well, today, sitting across from Valerie's fiancé made her feel much better. And because of the way Valerie had treated her, it was game on!

She'd ordered a chef's salad while he'd had a cheeseburger smothered in mushrooms. Finishing their meals should have taken them fifteen, twenty minutes, tops. But hours later, when the sun had long ago emerged brightly and dried the city's streets, the two were still sitting in that booth, chatting and laughing as if they were far more than new friends.

Vernon's eyes got wide when he glanced at his watch. “Are you serious?”

“What?”

He looked at her with a wide grin. “We've been sitting here for four hours.”

“No!” She glanced at her own watch. All that studying she was going to do . . . “It doesn't feel like that.”

“I know! What's that cliché?”

“Which one? Time flies when you're having fun?”

“No. The one that says I want to see you again. I
have
to see you again.”

“That's not a cliché.” She laughed, flattered.

He shrugged. “But it's the truth. So when can we get together?”

From that moment, Operation Make Vernon Mine was in full gear. Actually, it had started the moment he mentioned his name, but now Joyce turned it up to level eleven.

Joyce accomplished her mission before too long. It was a bunch of ones: one discreetly forgotten pair of lace underwear at his apartment, one anonymous phone call, and one kiss that left lipstick on his collar. One month after Joyce and Vernon met, Valerie called off the wedding.

Of course, Vernon did all of his breakup crying on Joyce's shoulder. Not that he did too much of that. He transitioned from Valerie to Joyce quickly and smoothly, and right away the new talk around town was about Joyce and Vernon.

Although she'd schemed to go after him, it was Vernon who fell first and fell hard. A month after Valerie called off their wedding, Vernon asked Joyce to marry him.

“You don't even have to finish school,” he told her. “You can drop out now so that you can plan the wedding that you've always wanted. It's not like you're going to work anyway. I want to take care of you while you take care of our children.”

He didn't have to do too much convincing. The way she'd grown up—on the side of the tracks that people like Vernon and Valerie knew nothing about—she couldn't wait to live a different kind of life. And with Vernon, she'd be well on her way. He'd already been offered a position with one of Raleigh's top law firms at a starting salary of almost $150,000. If this was the beginning, Joyce couldn't wait to see the middle and the end.

So, against her father's will and with her mother's tears, she dropped out of North Carolina Central. A year after they met, Joyce and Vernon vowed to forsake all others for as long as they both lived.

But it took only six months for Joyce to find out two things: what went around came back around, and Vernon Robinson had no intention of forsaking all others. Before they even had a
chance to exchange one-year anniversary gifts, another woman was doing to Joyce what Joyce had done to Valerie.

Vernon was so clumsy with his affair. Joyce hadn't gone digging; no one had left any unmentionables in their apartment. No, he cheated on her right in the open. Granted, Vernon and Alicia, one of the law clerks, probably thought they were in the clear since it was nine thirty at night, but still Joyce caught Alicia easing onto her knees in front of her still fully clothed husband. She had arrived just in time to catch more than an eyeful—she saw a mouthful.