If Your Wife Only Knew (9 page)

“Kiara, what can you tell me that will make me believe anything different than what you're showing me? You say you enjoyed that kiss, but now I'm not so sure.”

“I did enjoy it . . . but it's complicated.”

“You're having second thoughts?”

“I guess I ought to inform you that my husb—Mr. Eason is really trying right now.”

Eddison grew quiet.

“Though it took him a while, I feel he is listening to me . . . he's taking baby steps. And this sudden turnaround is like a rescue tube has been thrown at us. I'm grabbing hold of it and hopefully saving my life.”

Kiara cleared her throat. It was so quiet she glanced down at her cell to make sure she hadn't lost the call. But her screen still read, “Eddy O.”

She thought about the kisses they shared: the most deliciously sensual kiss she'd ever had with a man. But she also decided it would have to be the last time she ever did that. If Rashad stayed on the right path, she felt it was only right to give their relationship a chance.

“I just want to clean up my side of the street and make sure things will stay good between us. As silly as it sounds, I don't want to lose your friendship.”

He finally spoke. “I want you.”

“Eddison.”

“I said it, I meant it. It's not going to change.”

“You're serious?”

“Just like you, Kiara, I can be positive too. And I believe if something is meant to happen, it will. Doesn't matter what, when, or how.”

Kiara whispered good-bye and hung up. She thought about Eddison's words; it humbled her to realize that he actually did care about her. He was consistent and always proved himself to be in her corner.

She picked up Myles from school then drove straight home. He rattled on about his day, and how he had to handle Tommy Washington because the boy stole his toy helicopter.

“I told Tommy my dad finally put that copter together and he couldn't have it. And he said ‘I dare you to take it back.' And when I tried to grab my toy, he shoved me. So, Mommy, I wacked him in his eye real hard. And he started crying like a kindergartener.”

“That's nice, sweetie.”

“So I'm not in trouble?”

“No, sweetie.”

“Yes,” he said and pumped his fist.

When Kiara parked her car in the driveway of the house next door, her son asked, “Mommy, why did you do that? We don't live here.”

“Oh, right. I was just testing your alertness skills. Great job, son!”

She backed up out of her neighbor's driveway and this time parked at her house.

When she didn't see Rashad's van, her heart sank. When he arrived home a half hour late, she wanted to be happy but she wasn't.

Rashad lugged in bags of food.

“What's all this?”

“It's Friday night. I feel like barbecuing.”

“I see.”

“Aren't you happy? You love my brisket and ribs and sausages. You can make some of your potato salad, if you don't mind.”

“Yeah, Rashad. Sure, I can do that. Whatever you want.”

He stayed in the kitchen so he could sauté the meat and prepare his homemade barbecue sauce.

Kiara quietly went to their bedroom. That is where Rashad would pull off his clothes every time he got home from work. She locked the door behind her. And she went to the laundry basket and fished out his work pants.

She got her cell and called Adina. They'd spoken earlier by phone. Adina told her not to fall for his weak attempts at being nice. She said it was merely a cover-up for his dirty deeds and she needed to investigate to know what was really going on with him.

“Are you doing it?” Adina asked.

“Yes. Can you hear my heart beating? I haven't done this type of snooping in almost ten years of being with him.”

“Baby girl, it's hard, but you gotta know what's up in your relationship. Aren't you sick of not knowing? Are you tired of feeling weird and shit?”

“Yes.”

“So get to looking.”

“All right.” Kiara dug in Rashad's front pocket. She scooped up a handful of loose change. And she found a wrinkled business card from a lighting company, which she promptly stuffed back in his pocket.

“Nothing, girl.”

“Check the back. Hurry.”

“Okay.” Kiara reached inside the back pocket and pulled out some crumpled papers.

“Nothing but some stupid receipts.”

“Girl, you better look at those things. It's all about the receipts.”

“Oh, wow. Here's one from a Greek restaurant. It's from two days ago. May twenty-eighth. Around twelve noon. Lunchtime. And it is for two Greek salads, and two pita sandwiches, and two Sprites.”

“Hmm, he ain't that greedy. Who did the Negro buy lunch for?”

“Um,” Kiara said as she stared at the receipt. “It says it was a carry-out. Paid for in cash. And the person who called in the order is Lessie.”

“Whoop, now we're getting somewhere,” Adina yelped. “Some woman called in their order and your hubby paid for it. You know what you need to do, girl, so do it.”

Kiara hung up and agreed that it was way past time to get to the bottom of her husband's suspicious behavior.

 

“Rashad, we need to talk.” She returned to the kitchen with her cell phone in one hand, the receipt in the other.

“Ain't nothing to talk about.”

“Yes, there is. And you didn't even know what I was going to say.”

He was seasoning his meat. “Give me a second.”

“That can wait. I want to know something. Who is Lessie?”

“Huh?”

“Do you know a woman that goes by the name Lessie?”

“Uh-uh, no, I don't. Why?” Rashad calmly placed the meat inside clear plastic bags.

“I found a receipt in your pocket.”

He slammed the bag on the counter.

“No the fuck you did not.”

“You want it? You wanna see?” She waved the paper in his face.

“Whoever you bought lunch for this week, I want you to call the bitch on the phone right now.”

“You are crazy, Kiara.” He shook his head furiously. The veins bulged out the side of his neck. “She is a client. I bought lunch for her. Satisfied now, crazy-ass woman?”

“She's a client?”

“Yes. Damn. Stay the fuck out my pockets.”

“Rashad, sometimes I feel uneasy about our situation.”

“That's because you're crazy as hell. You're doing exactly what insane bitches do. Sounds like something Adina put you up to. That's why I never wanted you to hang around her. She couldn't hold onto her own husband and now she's trying to make you lose yours. Black women can be so damned stupid.”

“Your mother is a black woman.”

“She can be stupid, too.”

“That's true.”

Kiara sniffed and gave herself a moment to think.

“So this Lessie woman is just your client?”

“I've done some work at her spot.”

Kiara looked doubtful.

“Some work like what? Drilling? Laying pipe?”

He chuckled. “You're too much.”

“Okay, then. If she is a client, call her. On speaker phone. Just talk about anything.”

“You must be out your fucking mind.” Rashad went to the refrigerator and found a space to store the barbecue for the next twenty-four hours.

“I am not about to embarrass myself calling this lady out of the fucking blue all because your ass got gassed up by Adina.” He began yelling. “Is this where ten years of being with the same woman takes you? Is this the type of shit I gotta look forward to for the next thirty years?”

“All right, okay, damn,” Kiara said, backing down. She'd read too many news stories about fights that got out of hand. Petty grievances that led to a knife slashing, gunshots, screaming, and 911 calls. She never wanted that to be her life. But she did want answers.

“Maybe you don't know what to say or how to handle this type of thing in a professional way, but I do. I'll be very nice. I'll act like I'm your secretary. What's her last name?”

“What? Kiara, please stop it. You're not thinking rationally.”

“And I have you to blame!”

Rashad couldn't take it anymore. He went to his room, put on a fresh change of clothes, ran to get in his vehicle, and practically burned rubber trying to get away from his wife.

 

Rashad stayed gone for two hours.

As soon he came home, he found Kiara in the bedroom. He told her, “For your info, I was at a sports bar. I had four drinks and some appetizers. I was alone. Is that all right with you?”

“Oh, so now you want to go out of your way to tell me where you were?”

“I sure do. Is that cool?”

“Whatever makes you happy.”

Kiara already had on her nightgown. She decided to go sleep in the second-floor guest room.

“I'll be upstairs,” she told him as she gathered a few of her things.

“Knock yourself out. I need to get some rest. Sleep tight, babe.”

As she walked upstairs, Kiara wished that Rashad would come after her. She had told him she never slept well when he wasn't by her side. But she figured he was still upset with her for invading his privacy.

She heard him click the lock on their bedroom door.

Rashad's behavior frightened her to the point that she entertained morbid thoughts as she lay down and attempted to go to sleep. What would happen if nothing changed for the better? What if she was overly paranoid and he decided he wanted out of their marriage and she had to raise their son on her own? It was one thing to play around with the thought, but another thing to figure out how she'd handle an actual breakup.

She lay in the bed tossing, turning, thinking.

As drowsiness shepherded Kiara into a deep sleep, she heard the bedroom door squeak open, then close. He slipped in the bed right next to her and held her from behind, cupping her breasts with his warm hands. He placed his face next to hers. His cheek felt like love. His prickly whiskers grazed her neck. He pressed his lips against hers, giving her slow, gentle kisses that made her shiver with desire. She turned, moaned, then squirmed until she faced him in the dark. She groped for his lips and hungrily kissed him back. She trembled with happiness as he told her over and over again how sexy she was and that he loved her. And when he removed her panties and tossed them on the floor, then pulled out his penis and entered her, she let him. They instantly came together as one. She was lost in him. She couldn't be upset anymore. She couldn't lie. She had to have him. The desire for him was too strong.

 

When Kiara woke up the next morning, she was alone.

Her panties weren't on the floor. They were still on her body.

She got out of bed and headed downstairs to the master bedroom. Rashad wasn't there. She proceeded to shower and got dressed. When she entered the kitchen, the smell of turkey bacon, cheesy jalapeño eggs, and grits greeted her nostrils. Myles was already up and eating.

“Good morning, sexy.” Rashad even wore her purple apron. “Have a seat.”

He scooped some eggs onto a plate, selected a couple slices of meat, and dipped the spoon in the steaming hot grits which he poured in a small bowl.

“Um, really, Rashad? Grits?”

“Hahaha.” He laughed. “Don't even try it.”

Her voice was shaking. “Why are you doing this? What's all this for?”

“I don't want to fight. I hate it. I hate arguing. I know I've been fucking up in some ways and I need to step up my game. You're dope. I'm trying to show you that you are.”

“I-I'm—”

“Speechless, right.”

“Rashad—”

“You're welcome, Mrs. Eason.”

“Thanks.”

She sat her shaking legs down at the table and ate her breakfast. When she washed it all down with some orange juice, she said in a tiny voice, “Did you come in the room last night when I was asleep? Did you get in the bed with me?”

“Woman, I was knocked out all night long.”

“So you didn't come?”

He laughed and made clattering noises as he set dishes and pots in the dishwasher.

Ten minutes later, Kiara headed out to take Myles to his early morning martial arts class.

All she could think about was the man in her dream.

I
t was still Saturday and mid-morning in the city. Alexis sat alone at an outdoor café sipping on a mimosa and taking a drag from her cigarette. She felt like she was one of the last few smokers in modern society. Smoking was a habit she couldn't kick. An imperfect part of herself that she learned to accept.

As Alexis enjoyed the warm summer breeze, she thoughtfully observed a woman a few yards away. The woman was sitting across the table from a man. Alexis could tell the man was in his late thirties. They sat and ate their brunch. Alexis noticed how the woman gazed adoringly at the man. The man's cell phone rang. He glanced at it and answered. He gripped his phone against his ear. He ended the conversation and said a few words to his lunch companion. He rose to his feet and hurriedly left the café. The lady's face fell. Her sad expression vividly announced that her happiness had just walked away.

Alexis couldn't help herself. She stubbed her cigarette in an ashtray, rose gingerly from her table, and slowly walked toward the young girl, who looked to be around twenty.

“Hello. My name is Alexis and I couldn't help but notice what happened between you and that guy.”

“Huh?”

“You know he's married, right?”

“You know him or something?”

“No, I don't know him. But I do know men and that one has a wife. Did you know that?”

“What? I-I—”

“Answer me this. Have you ever been to his house?”

“No. He lives with his great aunt. And his sister. And his niece. Their family is going through some stuff, so . . .”

“How long have you known him?”

“Almost two years.”

“So in two years of being with him, he's never invited you to his house?”

“No.”

“Has he introduced you to his family?” Alexis discreetly took a seat across from the chick. Her voice was calm and matter-of-fact.

“Well, no.” The girl furrowed her brows. “No.”

“Have you ever asked him if he's married?”

“Yes. Wait. No, not really. It never came up.”

“So you're assuming he's single.”

“He doesn't act married. We're always together.”

“Always?”

“Well, he makes time for me when he's not working. And he works very hard. He drives semis. He's on the road a lot but he always comes to see me when he gets a break. We spend a couple weekends together out the month. We go out. We talk on the phone all the time. When he falls asleep, my voice is the last voice he hears.” She grinned like she was proud of herself.

Alexis laughed. “When you do go out, does he hold your hand in public?”

The girl's face brightened. “Yes!”

“How sweet! What side of town do you live on?”

“West side.”

“And on what side of town does he live with his great aunt . . . and the sister . . . and the niece?”

“Far north side.”

“Figures.”

Alexis quietly observed the girl, not desiring to hurt her but only wanting to educate her. She could identify with her and felt some compassion. At the same time, she hated the girl. Hated the situations that she and so many other women put themselves in. Yet Alexis chose to be in her own situation. And no matter how good it seemed, it was a hard life. The only life she knew.

“Have you met any of his close friends?”

“Oh yeah. There's Donnie Wade, T.L., and Bun.”

“And when you met these friends, how did your man introduce you? Did he refer to you as his woman? His special lady?”

The girl thought. She frowned. “No, he just called me Regina. Like: This Regina.”

Alexis nodded. “Hmmm. Why am I not surprised?”

She stood up and took a long, deep breath.

“Well, I gotta be going. Like I said, I noticed the interactions between you and your man and, um, don't say I didn't warn you, but he is locked down like a felon in the pen. Now if you want to continue being with this man, that's on you. But you gotta know what you're getting yourself into. Decide if that's how you wanna roll for the rest of your life.”

Regina looked mortified. “The rest of my life? Assuming he is married, you actually think I want to be with a man like that for the rest of my life?”

“It wouldn't be the first time. Won't be the last.”

Alexis waved good-bye and turned around.

Her long, graceful legs were like a giraffe's. Her hips swayed like the slow motion of a pendulum. She walked as if a hardcover book sat on her head and she was traipsing down a runway. She instinctively knew that the eye of every man was on her. And the eyes that weren't on her wanted to be.

Regina felt distraught the second Alexis left her alone at the table. Suddenly she bolted from her chair. She raced after Alexis, who by now had slid onto the plush leather seat of a two-seater black Mercedes. Her vanity plates spelled out “SPOILED.” It was an old convertible but still turned heads when she drove with the top down.

The girl waved.

“Um, I'm sorry to bother you.”

“You're not bothering me.”

“Well, I wanted to say my name is Regina.”

“You told me that already.”

“Why do I keep meeting the same type of shitty-ass guys?”

Alexis reached out and squeezed Regina's hand with a gentleness that instantly soothed her. “Because there are way more shitty-ass guys out here to meet than non-shitty-ass guys,” Alexis replied with a laugh. Then she said, “Seriously, Regina. I feel you. Because to be honest, I ask myself the same question.”

“Can we talk? Something tells me I can learn a lot from you.” Regina hesitated. “I-I already have.”

Alexis emerged from her car and the two new friends returned to the café table, where they took a seat and ordered drinks.

Regina blurted, “You sleep with married men. Don't you?”

“Not men. One man.”

“You act like it doesn't bother you.”

“It is what it is. If I could control this situation, I would. I'd be like God. I'd have the power to make everything the way I want it to be.”

“Really?”

“But he's not the first, obviously.”

“You do this all the time?”

Alexis's eyes glinted with a sadness that couldn't be denied. “Do you mind?” She retrieved a new cigarette from her pouch and lit up.

“Nasty habit. I started doing this, started killing myself, ever since I was nine.”

“That's too bad.”

“I started smoking exactly one day after I found out the truth about my father.” Alexis dreamily stared at nothing and was mentally transported to her childhood when it was her, and her mother, and her daddy.

“Tandy. That's my dad's name.”

“Tandy. That's different.”

“He was wonderful, too. We did fun stuff together. He took me shopping for clothes and cute little Barbie dolls that I loved to dress up. He'd buy us chocolate ice cream with waffle cones, and took me to the biggest parks in Houston so I could play and run around, even though my mother couldn't stand for me to get my clothes dirty. My dad treated me like his princess. That's how I felt whenever I was with him. I had such a good feeling of love, and acceptance, and belonging.”

“But that changed?”

“Check this out. When I was nine, our class went on a field trip to the zoo. Daddy signed up to be a chaperone. The kids, we were all so excited and scared to see all the animals; the elephant display, lions, the squawking birds. But we had so much fun eating snow cones and stale yellow popcorn. And even though I was scared of the animals, I felt safe because Daddy was there with me. So I relaxed and kept enjoying myself. Just me and my daddy. And then this strange woman showed up at the zoo. I had never seen her before. I guess they arrived late. And a little girl was with her. The girl looked a year or two older than me. She wore clothes like she was going to church, not to the zoo. Her long ponytails were made up in pretty pink ribbons. She had on a neat little dress. Her mom was skinny and cute. The woman laughed a lot. And suddenly I noticed that my dad wasn't paying attention to me. He was talking to this lady and was all up in her face instead of in mine. He—” Her voice caught in her throat and it quivered when she continued. “My daddy took that little girl's hand and they all walked in front of me. I walked behind them. They were laughing, enjoying the animals, while I was forced to look at them. I didn't care about those animals anymore. And when I couldn't stand it any longer and went to yank his sleeve to get his attention, Daddy told me to hold hands with my classmate Vennie. I mean I liked Vennie. She was probably the closest thing to a female friend I've ever had. For some reason, me and other chicks don't always click. But Vennie and I held hands—but she was no substitute for my daddy.”

“Well, what was that all about?”

“That day, after the woman and her kid left the zoo, and my daddy dropped me off at home, I was met at the door by my mother.”

“Oh. He dropped you off? He didn't live with you?”

Alexis laughed. “That's how naïve I was. Hardly anybody's father lived with them. So I thought it was normal. He was still active in my life. But that's the day my mother revealed to me that Tandy had a wife, and that I had a sister named Glynis. Mama informed me we weren't his real family. All that time . . . I thought we were.”

“Damn, that must have hurt.”

“Daddy was the first man I trusted . . . and the first one that broke my heart.”

Alexis waved a large circle with the thin cigarette that made her want to choke. “That's when Capri Indigo and I became best friends. I began spending more time with Capri.” She took a drag and blew smoke rings out her mouth, “Spent more time trying to smoke than I spent with my girl Vennie. Biggest mistake I ever made in my life. It was like a fork was in the road. And instead of going right, I went left. Story of my life. I should've stuck with Vennie.”

Regina sensed that it was hard for Alexis to make friends. Maybe it was because she was so pretty that she intimidated insecure women.

“But weren't you scared to smoke? Are you scared now?”

Alexis read between the lines. “It's not like I'm a chain smoker or anything. Plus, we all gotta die of something one day. What difference will it make what the death certificate says? Death is death.”

“Don't tell me you're not afraid of that, either?”

“I'm scared to death of it. My mother, she's been horribly sick lately. And I am petrified that I will walk into her bedroom one day, her room will be cold and dark, and she will be still and silent. And gone. And I won't ever hear my mother's voice again.”

“Wow. Anything else?”

“I should be used to it by now but I'm very scared to be alone; I absolutely hate when I feel lonely. Men and women weren't meant to be that way. That's one Bible verse I remember.” She laughed and continued. “Loneliness is like an endless, deep black pit. A big hole that can't be filled with anything except the ones you long to be with.”

“With what's-his-face?”

Alexis nodded. “Being with what's-his-face feels like pleasure mixed with pain. Lots and lots of pleasure.”

“And a whole lotta pain.”

“You are correct, Regina. As weird as this may sound, sometimes I don't feel right with him, but other times I feel incomplete without him.”

“So why do you do it? Why don't you stop? Do you like it? How often do you see your man?”

“I do it because . . . as bad as it may sound, it's what I want to do. Plus, the decent man shortage is very real in Houston. Many handsome, seemingly good men troll around like they're single until you find out they're not. By then it's too late. You're in love, or lust, and stuck on stupid.”

“But you can still stop once you find out . . .”

“Are you going to stop, Regina? Can you tell me that you will never, ever see your own what's-his-face after today? Never have contact with him ever again as long as the sun keeps shining? Are you saying that the strong feelings you developed for the sonofabitch will completely dissolve ten minutes after you learned the truth about the man with whom you've shared many valuable years? After you've shared life-changing experiences? Sure, some chicks got that in them. Kick him to the curb or flick his ass off like he's a nasty booger and keep it moving. But the majority of us . . . we go back for more . . . more torture . . . more conflict . . . more struggling with desire for love and acceptance . . . more man sharing. It's a bitch.”

“Well, Alexis, from listening to you, if he is married, I don't want to go back. I-I don't want to stay caught up year after year, if all he's going to do is keep going home to her.”

“Regina, welcome to the Weekend Wives Club, because in essence that's what we are. Part-time wives. We get some of the privileges but not everything we deserve.”

“If getting dick every now and then is what you call ‘privileges' and he thinks that's all it takes to make me happy, then he must be fooling himself.”

“You are learning, aren't you?”

“No, I'm processing. I'm pissed.” Regina banged her fist on the table. “I am fucked up right now because this Negro had me wide open like the Grand-mother-freaking-Canyon. He made me feel like I was the only one. Like I was special and shit. Because if I do my research and find out he has a wife at home, I will feel very stupid. But now that I think of it, he did act shady and mysterious.”

“All mysterious acting men do not work for the FBI. Side Chick 101, lesson number three.”