My Husband's Girlfriend (14 page)

“Don’t do that, Neil,” I scold. “The baby’s gonna be so spoiled.”

“This is my little man. My son.”

“Oh, that’s right. You got your son, didn’t you?”

Neil pauses. “I probably shouldn’t be telling you this, but after Anya miscarried twice, we never tried again. She got her tubes tied—her decision, not mine. But she blamed me. Then she wanted me to go to this mock funeral for the baby, but I wasn’t feeling that.”

“Anya had a funeral?”

“Yes! She was emotionally broken down. So I offered her a shopping spree, sent her on a getaway to visit her closest friends, helped out around the house. She doesn’t remember all that; she blocked that part out. Everything grew so odd. And so I–I…”

I swallow deeply and rub Neil’s hand, which is still rubbing Braxton. “I understand, Neil. I do.”

“So, Neil, I, uh, wanna ask you a question before you go.” His hand grips the doorknob. We’ve kissed twice already, lots of tongue wrestling and spit action, and he’s been unable to just go on and go.

“What you want to know?” he says. Huskiness layers his voice.

“I heard something about you.”

“What?” he says.

“You still do things with her?”

“Like what?”

“You know…things.”

“Not the kind of things you’re thinking.”

“Whatever.” I shrug. “I hope you aren’t just saying that, trying to spare my feelings. I’d understand if you gotta go deep-sea diving every now and then. Make her feel good sometimes.”

Neil looks like he wants to say something, but swallows a lump instead, a lump that I can see pressing against his throat. That scares me. I want him to be able to talk to me about anything. Sure, his having to service his wife may cause me to feel a twinge of jealousy. But then again, I have no legitimate reason to be jealous. As long as Braxton is around, I imagine that Neil will be, too. That’s pretty much a given. I don’t know what I’d do if I couldn’t see Neil anymore. I wonder if it’s his being truly unavailable that makes him so attractive. I’ve known women who wanted a man as long as someone else wanted him. And as soon as he cut his other women out, the man’s appeal was cut out, too. And the women who were once hounding and sweating him like he was a superstar, well, all that running behind the man ceased.

I hope that isn’t our case. I feel a strong pull toward this man. I’ve shared men before but this is different. Neil is committed to me in his own way, and that makes me very special. And when I feel special, I feel happy, like I have a reason for breathing each and every day.

“You know what?” I say, and stand on my tiptoes to cover his cheeks with some final kisses. “You ain’t gotta break it all down to me. Do what you need to do, baby.”

I blush. He does, too. It’s my first time calling him that. I wonder—no, I
know
he likes hearing me say
baby.
I wave bye to Neil. Close and lock the door. Peek out the window. He doesn’t look back at my front door. That’s okay. I know he’ll be back.

14

Neil

“God, forgive me, forgive me, forgive me. Please. I repent. Okay, I’m not
sure I can…Give me strength, oh Lord.”

I’m in the Explorer talking to myself because I don’t know if the Lord is going to take me seriously right about now. Is mine the type of plea that gets God’s attention?

I say another brief prayer, then hush my mouth. Pastor Sol taught us to do that. He said if we talk to God, we gotta shut up eventually so we can hear if He talks back. After a few moments, a sharp, low voice disturbs my quietness: “You are making a big mistake.” I don’t know if that’s my own uneasiness convicting me or if it’s Him, and I squeeze out the voice until it’s no longer heard.

Still rattled, I try to level my breathing. I’m sitting in my SUV with the engine running in front of Dani’s place. My heart is tugging, yearning, at the same time that my cell phone is ringing. I hear it screaming,
Answer me, you asshole,
but no, I’m not in the mood to answer right now.

I know it’s pointless to come up with a lie to tell Anya. She’s not down for that. Why would I put myself through that, anyway? I have the right to visit my child. I know I do. Whether Anya has a problem with that or not doesn’t matter. I just need her to care about me enough to understand.

I glide into the house from the garage. First thing I see is Anya. She’s in the hallway with the closet door open. She’s pulling out some winter coats and spreading them on the floor. Lately Houston has been experiencing a warm front, but this week the weatherman predicts cold.

“Hey…what’s up?” I say with a hopeful voice.

“Hi, Neil. Nothing much.” She stops what she’s doing and leans her face over to kiss me.

Hmm. Cool.

“What you cook?” I ask.

“Go look,” she yells over her shoulder.

I head toward the kitchen. I see one pot on the stove and raise the lid. A half-dozen weenies are floating in some boiling water that’s whistling and emitting steam.

Hot dogs?

Is this a joke?

“Anya,” I yell louder than I intend.

“What, Neil? I’m kind of busy right now.”

“Anya, stop what you’re doing for a minute and come here.”

I hear loud sighs that ask
Why me?
She walks straight into the kitchen and looks at me, then at the pot, then at me.

“Oh,” she laughs.

“Where’s the rest of the dinner? Rather, where
is
dinner?”

“Neil, you’re so silly. Don’t tell me you’re too good to eat a hot dog now and then.”

“Anya, you know those things don’t agree with my stomach.”

“Then I suggest you cook something that does. Reese and Vette said there’s nothing left in the refrigerator to eat except Oscar Mayer.”

“Vette’s here?” Lately she’s been ducking out, hanging out with her friends. We’ve barely seen her.

“Yes, she’s here. She tried to call you several times on your cell, to ask if you could pick up a few groceries on the way home, but you didn’t answer, so…”

Anya swings around and struts away from me. As if pulling old funky coats out the closet is way more important than me having something tasty, filling, and edible to eat.

I want to yell at her to come back right now, but then the three musketeers bound into the kitchen. Vette’s the ringleader, followed by Reese and Tamika.

“I cannot believe you get your kicks these days hanging out with little girls.”

“What you say? Shut up, Neil.”

I shrug and reach over to the bread bin to pull out a package of hot dog buns. Vette slaps my hand so hard it stings.

“Why you do that?” I ask.

“Because those dogs are for us.” She points at the girls. “I didn’t stand up here for fifteen minutes making this meat boil just for you to roll up in here and eat some of it. You got big money, Neil. Go order takeout or something.”

“You…you.” My voice sounds as ridiculous as I feel. I just…It’s only hot dogs, but that’s beside the point. What’s going on here? I smell conspiracy. Or is it stupidity?

I start to run up the stairs to take a shower, but suddenly remember that detail has already been taken care of. So after going outside and spending ten minutes watering the lawn, I venture into the kitchen and abruptly stop in my tracks.

Puddles of water are on the counter. Some of the liquid is spilling off the sides and looking like a thin waterfall that cascades to the floor.

“Reese!” I yell.

I go get some paper towels to sop up the spill. The soles of my gym shoes make squeaking noises when I walk on the tile. This isn’t good at all.

“Reese, get in here right now. Don’t make me have to come after you.”

My daughter races into the kitchen; her face is haunted, shoulders stiff.

“You do this?” I ask.

She shakes her head. Her widened eyes never leave my face.

“Reese, don’t lie. I know you did this. I just need you to tell me the truth. You won’t get a spanking if you tell the truth, but you will if you tell a lie.”

“Nope. I didn’t do that, Daddy.”

“Then who did, your mama?”

Reese nods emphatically, but her lips are quivering. I stoop in front of her until we’re at eye level.

“Reese, I love you no matter what you do. So even if you go overboard playing with water and make a big mess, that won’t change how I feel. Remember, I got on you two weeks ago about the same thing, but it hasn’t changed how I feel about you.” My fingertip pushes in her nose like it’s a doorbell. Reese stares at me like she’s trying to decide if I am lying to her like she lied to me. When it looks like she can’t make up her mind, I wrap my arms around her and squeeze her tight. God, she’s growing so tall. Where was I when that happened?

“You love me, Reese?”

She nods.

“Were you playing in the water and made this mess even if it was an accident?”

She nods again.

I squeeze her tight. “I’m so proud of you, sweetie.”

“You are?”

“Yep.”

“What is ‘proud’?” she asks.

“It means that I feel happy about you, something you’ve done. Does that make sense?”

“Yes, Daddy.” She looks confused about what to say next.

“Good girl.”

“Daddy, what is ‘choke the chicken’?”

“Where’d you hear that from?”

“I heard Mommy say she wishes you’d go back and choke the chicken. It sounds sooo gross.” She puts her fingers around her neck and pretends to squeeze.

“It
is
gross. Okay, clean up the rest of your mess and go on up to your room.”

“Okay, Daddy.”

“And don’t forget—I love you, Reese.”

“I won’t forget.”

Reese takes one wide step forward, then stops. “You’re not going to choke any chickens, are you, Daddy?”

“Believe me, Reese, if I choke anything, it won’t be a chicken. Now go on and clean up. I’m tired.”

She runs one way. I run the other.

It’s the second week of the new year and I have just gotten out of my car and am walking from the parking lot to the building where I work. I pull my coat collar close to my neck. I blow air in the center of my hands and rub them. Houston definitely is getting a reality check this morning. No heat, no comfort.

But I do feel better shortly after arriving in my office. I glance down the hall and see Dani from a distance. I imagine that even with layered clothing—a knit shirt, sweater, and long leather skirt—she still has something special underneath her outfit.

I wince inside. Need to get my mind in the proper place. Lots of work to do but little time to do it.

I’m in my office only fifteen minutes when I look up to find Dani standing in my doorway. She’s grinning and has her arms folded across her chest.

“Got a minute?” she says. Her voice is full of elation.

“Not really. What’s up?”

“I–I just wanted you to see something.”

I glance at my watch.

“Oops. Sorry, Neil. Well, don’t mean to bother you, but if you get a quick second, come on down to my office, okay? Only a few doors down from you in case you’ve forgotten. Bye.”

She swings around and disappears from my doorway.

Her perfume lingers. I sniff without much effort and find her in my nostrils. Dani is still here. She’s always here.

Soon I back away from my desk and walk down the hall.

Before I reach Dani’s door I hear several voices, squealing animated females. I stand a few inches from her door, out of view.

“Dani, he is getting sooo big,” I hear someone say. “What a precious one you have. But why’d you take him out in the cold today?”

“Right,” Dani says. “That’s why I’m pissed. My sitter Audrey had a little emergency. So I brought him to work with me. She’s supposed to pick the baby up. Hmm, shouldn’t be too long now. I didn’t think it would hurt for him to see Mama’s job for a quick minute.”

What’s wrong with this woman? Why does she get into this rattled behavior sometimes? Jaw rigid, I slip back down the hall, reach my office, close and lock the door, and refuse to answer any incoming calls.

I’m not avoiding. I really do need to finish a complex spreadsheet.

But looking at my watch every minute and thinking about what’s going on elsewhere keeps me from getting as far along as I’d like.

An hour later, when I step out my office to go to the men’s room, I’m happy to take a leak and relieve some tension.

I am headed back to my office when…

“Hey there, Neil.”

No, no, nooo, get away from me, you.

“Dani told me where your office was and I stopped by but you weren’t there.” Audrey, a petite redhead with blue contact lenses and dark skin, smiles broadly. She’s bundled in a decorative scarf and floor-length black coat, and is holding Brax in his carrier. He gasps and stares at me like,
Don’t I know you?
I break eye contact.

“You need to be getting on, right, Audrey?”

I don’t wait for her to answer, I just head back to my office. I feel her eyes boring into my back. I close and lock my door again. I’m two seconds from kicking my desk, but I guess I ought to be kicking myself. How many times do I have to go through something to understand I don’t control everything? Even with careful planning, why does the unexpected, the unwanted, come threaten what I try to do?

I stay holed up in my office until a little after noon. I deactivate automatic voice mail and I have to call Kyra for any messages I may have missed.

“Uh, yes, you have one from…from Danielle Frazier, actually.”

“Oh yeah, what she say?”

“She said…” Kyra pauses. “Hmm, maybe I should bring this up to you.”

“Kyra, just tell me.”

“She said she wants you for lunch. Well, that’s what she said at first, but then she specifically told me to write down she wants to
meet
you for lunch. Well, ain’t none of my business, but that’s what—”

“Okay, I–I see. Thanks, Kyra.”

Grabbing my coat, I leave my office and go stand in front of Dani’s door, gesturing for her to follow me. She nods. I continue down the hall, then ride the elevator to the first floor. Coworkers’ voices are weaving in and out of my hearing. I barely see them; I am trying to reach my Explorer without cursing out loud.

I wait until Dani gets into her truck, and then I drive toward Holly Hall Street.

Dani arrives at her apartment two minutes after me and springs from her car. I get out my vehicle and follow her, not saying anything until after she opens the door and steps inside her place.

I remove my coat, slowly. My feet hurt, so the shoes go, too.

When I turn around she’s looking up at me, grinning.

I grab her. She tilts her neck and tongues me. The heat is on. I fall into her arms. She weighs much less than I do but is strong enough to bear my weight.

We kiss and I press my hardness into her, pumping against her until she moans. She throws one arm across my back in a slight hug. I close my eyes and enjoy the feeling of her cold cheek against mine. But the inside of her mouth is far from cold. Dani steps away from me, breaking our kiss, and tugs at my necktie.

I open my eyes. She has this piercing look. Breathing hard. Hair disheveled.

“No,” I say. “Don’t. Can’t. Can’t do this.”

“Oh yeah? Then why’d you have me come over here, Neil, huh?”

“I–I don’t know.”

She steps back from me, a dubious look on her face.

“You expect me to believe that?” she asks.

“Dani, I…you know. You…I don’t know.”

“Say what you have to say, Neil.”

“I’m trying.”

“You’re not trying hard enough.”

“Well, Dani, w–why do you act the way you do sometimes? You do a lot of things that make no sense.”

“Oh, as if everything you do makes sense.” She smirks.

“Stop acting like you don’t know what I’m talking about. Dani, you know we agreed that you would not ever bring Brax in to work. I just don’t think it’s necessary.”

“To hell what you think is necessary.”

“Dani, what you say?”

“You heard me, you prick!” she screams. “I’m tired of this. All you care about is protecting yourself. You don’t care about me.”

Oh God, this is not what I want to happen. I reach out for her but she escapes my arms. I hug the air and watch her bail out of the living room.

I grab my coat and get out before I can hear more painful words come from her mouth.

I call my boss to say I need to deal with an emergency and take the rest of the afternoon off from work. My emergency finds me driving to the mostly empty parking lot of Solomon’s Temple.

I know that some of the staff is there, but I can’t bring myself to go inside. Instead I retrieve my cell phone and dial *67, then the church’s twenty-four-hour prayer line. I know the church has caller ID, and even though there are so many members they can’t possibly know everyone, I still don’t want them to know the call is coming from me.

“Praise the Lord,” a recorded voice answers. “You’ve reached Solomon’s Temple’s twenty-four-hour prayer line. We’ll be with you in a moment.”

“In a moment” lasts three minutes—three long minutes that beg me to hang up. What’s the use? Who exists who understands the pain I feel inside? Surely no one else knows the battles I fight on a daily basis, feeling split into many pieces, wishing I could please everyone and make myself happy at the same time.