Young Wives (68 page)

“Not for the Caymans,” Michelle told her, and looked at Samuel, who nodded.

“Wait a minute,” Jada said. “I don’t have the money to go there. I’ve got to take my chances in Barbados.”

“Let’s just get checked in,” Michelle told her calmly. “Everything is under control. We can discuss the latest update once we’re safely inside.” She looked around nervously, as if expecting Clinton or the police to pull up at any moment.

Jada looked at Samuel, who was calmly unloading the rest of the luggage. He nodded. “This had better be good, Mich,” Jada said.

“It’s
very
good,” Michelle told her. Meanwhile, Kevon had climbed out of the back of the rental car, and he and Frankie greeted each other happily. Shavonne and Jenna acted as cool as preteens with mixed feelings could manage. “You have to check in all the luggage and answer the security questions,” Michelle told Jada.

“It would be easier if I knew where I was going,” Jada snapped tartly. Michelle handed an envelope to Jada and turned back to the skycap.

“Here’s my sister, and the rest of her luggage,” she said. He opened his eyes wide, looking the group over; five children of assorted colors; a lanky blonde; a tall, tawny-skinned woman; and a very dark black man obviously were more confusing than his sexual mathematics were up to.
Wait till he sees Angie!
Michelle thought. He shrugged and rolled the luggage cart to the terminal door, following them without another question. “Come on, kids. First class. Flight Three-two-one,” Michelle announced.

“First class?” Jada asked, as the group moved together to the counter. “But Michelle, I can’t afford it. And if you cooked this up, you shouldn’t have, and even if you could, then I should save the money for other things—”

“Oh, relax,” Michelle said. “I think it’s finally appropriate to.” She looked around. “So long as Clinton doesn’t show up at the last minute, and Angie does, we’re home free. Now just answer the security questions and let’s get up to the gate.”

Jada handed her passport, the kids’ birth certificates, and the tickets to the very, very thin woman behind the counter and watched as the luggage was moved to the scales. Everyone in economy was waiting on a long snake of a line. The first class clerk looked up. “This is first class,” she said, as if Jada had got it wrong.

“I’m aware of that,” Jada said coldly.

“My sister always travels first class,” Michelle added. “You got a problem with that?”

The woman recovered as best she could from her politically incorrect comment.
Well
, Jada thought,
that’s the good thing about the islands. Fewer assumptions based on skin color down there. All of that may be good for my children. Maybe a white suburb was too difficult
.

“Have you packed all your own bags?” the airlines clerk asked. Jada nodded. “Have they been in your possession all the time?”

“Yes,” Jada lied.

“Has anyone given you any gifts?”

“No,” Jada lied again, this time looking at the tickets.

“Do you have any concealed weapons?” the woman asked, and Jada raised her eyebrows. Was that a standard question?

“Only my tongue,” she said sweetly, and Samuel and Michelle both laughed.

All that was left was for Samuel to hand over his passport and ticket. They were checked in. The whole group of them moved through the metal detectors. “Are we going, too?” Jenna asked, confused, though she knew the answer.

“Kevon says they’re going to the beach,” Frankie said. “Can’t we go? Just for a little while.”

Michelle and Jada kept herding the kids as they used to do, through malls, through grocery stores, through toy stores. At least here there was the distraction of the fast food court, moving sidewalks, and a new candy store—one with every imaginable sweet displayed in big plastic dispensers that made them totally irresistible.
Oh well
, Michelle thought. It would keep them busy until Angie got there.

But where was Angie? They couldn’t separate without her. Michelle moved the kids in the direction of the candy store. “You have four minutes to fill your bags,” she told each of the children. “Samuel, do you think you could help Sherrilee?”

He smiled. “I think I can manage it,” he said, and followed the toddler, who was already pointing to a bin of gummy worms. He was a nice man. Michelle wondered if anything would happen between him and Jada.

Left in peace for a few moments, Michelle turned to her friend. Jada looked at her. “Okay,” she said. “What’s going on?”

“Everything’s under control,” Michelle said. “You know it’s much safer to go to the Caymans than to Barbados. Samuel managed to fix the legal part and I fixed the other part.”

“What’s the other part?” Jada asked.

“The financial part.”

“The Caymans take real money. I can’t go there,” Jada said. “What are you talking about?”

“That’s for me to know and you to find out,” Michelle laughed.

Angie was driving the Volvo like a bat out of hell. She thought that Clinton had been behind her when she was on the Merritt Parkway, but she wasn’t a hundred percent sure. Angie had actually enjoyed her job as the decoy. Now, driving Jada’s car and wearing a black braided wig, dark makeup, Jada’s sunglasses, and her overcoat, she was playing rabbit to Clinton’s greyhound. And just like at the dog races, she had to get to the goal long before the dog did.

Frightened, she gunned the Volvo, though she knew that the Merritt was always filled with troopers only too happy to give out speeding tickets. She looked at her watch. She had to get to the airport and park the Volvo, filled with all of Michelle’s luggage and boxes, in time to say good-bye to both of her friends and their children.

She could hardly believe that Jada was leaving the country for good. Not that she didn’t want her to get away—it wasn’t that. Michelle and Jada had been right—the system didn’t work for them, and they had stepped outside of it. As an attorney, she might not approve, but as a woman, she did. The fire at Jada’s house had been a real statement. Angie had changed into her costume and gotten to the Volvo, which Jada had parked around the corner, but as she drove away, she saw Tonya pointing at her. If she had been followed, it didn’t matter—if they got as far as the airport, they’d go for the wrong airlines.

Angie pulled into the American Airlines lot, threw off the wig and sunglasses, wiped off her face, tore off the coat, and ran to the shuttle bus station. If Clinton
had
seen her, he certainly hadn’t followed her to the lot. But just as she crossed the street toward the departures curb, she looked back and thought she saw Clinton’s truck pull in beside the Volvo.

God! She couldn’t wait for the shuttle to the other terminal! What if he followed her? What if he figured out that he wasn’t pursuing Jada at all, and that they’d pulled a switch on him? Did he already know the house wasn’t insured, that the kids and his meal ticket were gone? He’d be enraged.

Angie realized that she couldn’t wait for a shuttle to pull up, and there were no cabs. She saw a Hertz van and waved it down, getting on as if she were on her way to her car rental. But had the van already passed Jada’s terminal? Or was it on its way there? Would the driver let her off? She’d have to play very stupid. Not so easy for someone whose brain was clicking as fast as Angie’s was at that moment. “Do I need to pick up my luggage before I get my car?” she asked the driver. “I’m so confused.”

“Most people do,” he said, looking her over as if she was an idiot.

“Oh. Then would you mind bringing the car to me at Terminal B?” she asked.

“Lady, we don’t do that,” he told her and laughed. “You better get off at Terminal B. Get your luggage.
Then
get on the van.”

“Are we near Terminal B?”

“Next stop,” he said, only too happy to get rid of her.

She looked at her watch. She only had twenty minutes before Jada’s departure. She bounded down the van steps, across the terminal floor, through security, and up to the gate. Thank God she immediately saw Michelle and Jada, surrounded by the kids, all of whom seemed to be chewing on something. She ran up and hugged the two of them. “I made it!” she exclaimed.

Michelle looked around. “He didn’t follow you?”

“I think he did for a while, but I lost him.” She handed the Volvo car keys to Jada. Jada turned and handed them to Michelle.

“It’s yours,” she said, “though why you want the Volvo instead of the Lexus is beyond me.”

“A new life, an old car. It makes sense to me,” Michelle answered. “Anyway, you do understand. I don’t want what Frank bought me.” She fished into her pocket and pulled out her own car keys. “These are for you,” she said, and handed them to Angie.

“Your car? Oh no. I couldn’t take it. That’s a forty-thousand-dollar car.”

Michelle shrugged. “Eighty-eight thousand, ‘cause it’s fully loaded, but never mind the details. God knows where the money came from. But you’re an underpaid, over-worked, do-gooding mother-to-be, you’re going to need it. You can’t drive to the hospital to have your baby in your hunk of junk,” Michelle turned to Jada. “I also wanted to wait until Angie was here to give you this. It will explain about the Caymans.” Michelle handed Jada the canvas bag she’d been toting.

Jada looked at the brown paper-wrapped, string-tied packages inside, raising her brows in question.

“What’s six inches long, has a head on it, and drives women crazy?” Michelle asked.

Jada smirked. “I have no idea. I never slept with a white man.”

“Money,” Michelle said, ignoring her vulgar friend. “Paper money, and lots of it. You can count it on the plane.”

Jada looked down at the bag and then back up at Michelle. “Samuel assures me you’ll have no trouble taking it into the Caymans,” Michelle said. “That’s what the Caymans are for. And don’t try and give it back. It’s like the Lexus. I don’t want any part of it. You’re doing me a favor. Buy yourself and the kids a nice house—one that’s finished.”

Jada stood silently for a moment and then tears began to flow from her eyes. “I didn’t think I’d ever have friends like you two, and now I have to leave you?”

“Flight three-two-one to the Cayman Islands is about to board. First class passengers and Premium Gold passengers may begin boarding at this time.”

“That’s us, Mama,” Shavonne said. “Come on!”

“I don’t think I can go,” Jada told Angie and Michelle.

“Are you frightened?” Angie asked. “I really think it will be okay. Your parents will come for a long visit. And I think you can depend on Samuel.”

“No. It’s not that,” Jada said. “I’m not afraid anymore. I just can’t leave you two.”

“Well, we’re leaving you!” Michelle said. “I’m getting in that station wagon of yours and driving. I’ve got houses to clean and new employees to supervise.” She looked at Angela then, and giggled. “Plus, Angie wants her apartment back so she can finally have somewhere to sleep with Michael.”

“At least she doesn’t have to worry about getting pregnant,” Jada laughed.

“Hey. How do you know I haven’t slept with him already?” Angie asked. “He really liked me in your wig.” The women hooted.

“Well, we have a gift for you that he might not like,” Jada said. She looked at Michelle, who fumbled in her big purse and pulled out a wrapped flat package.

“Oh, come on. You’ve already given me too many gifts,” Angie said.

“You’ll want this one, sisterfriend,” Jada said and laughed.

Angie tore the paper away and realized it was a frame. But the picture inside was unbelievable: Michelle and Jada grinning into the camera, wearing their sex clothes.

“You saved me a Polaroid! How did you do it? The two of you in the picture at once. Who took the picture?”

“The camera. I put it on the bureau and used the timer.”

Angie stared at the photo of her two friends grinning. “The best memento I’ve ever had,” she said.

Samuel came up to them then, which made Angie blush. “I’m afraid I have to say good-bye now. And I’m going to take the kids on board,” he said to Jada, “if that’s all right with you.”

“No,” Jada said. “Just give me another minute or two. I’ll be right with you.”

“Are you going to sleep with him?” Michelle asked Jada after Samuel walked away.

“I don’t even know him!” Jada whispered, shocked.

“That’s not what I asked,” Michelle said. “I slept with Frank for fourteen years and I never knew him.”

“Jada, it’s time to say good-bye,” Angie said, reaching up and hugging the taller woman.

“Look, I don’t know if I can come back here from the Caymans once I’ve done this thing,” Jada said, “but it doesn’t mean you can’t visit me. We don’t have to say good-bye. I mean, not a permanent good-bye.”

“Are you kidding?” Angie said. “I’m bringing the baby down as soon as we can travel.”

“And I want you to look around and see if they need a cleaning business in the Caymans,” Michelle told Jada. “There’s a lot of rich people with condos and they don’t want to have to mop up that sand themselves.”

“Just as long as I’m not pushing a mop,” Jada said. “No domestic work for me.”

They announced the last boarding call. “Agreed. You don’t do windows, but you
do
have to go,” Michelle said.

“Who made you the boss all of a sudden?” Jada asked.

“You did. The two of you did. I’ve become a boss, and I’ve done it on my own. I don’t know what I would have done without you two. Jada, you gave me self-confidence. And Angie, you took me in. You showed me what true friends were like.” Michelle kissed Jada. “I did it myself, but I owe you,” she said. Then she kissed Angie. “And I owe you, too. And Michael.”

Jada hugged both of them. “I do have to go now,” she admitted, tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Yes, you do,” Michelle said, suddenly serious. “Jada. Jada, promise me one thing. Promise us you’re not really running away to the Basketball Hall of Fame.” Angie giggled as Jada promised.

Then Jada turned and walked over to Samuel, took Sherrilee up, and gently pushed Kevon and Shavonne in front of her. She turned to Samuel, said something, and started toward the ticket taker. Angie, Michelle, and the two remaining children yelled and waved.

Jada turned back to look at them from the end of the jetway. The two women were standing in the doorway, arm in arm, waving.