My Husband's Girlfriend (27 page)

“Ain’t that something?”

“Oh, well. Whatever. I’m going no matter what. Don’t want to lose my deposit on the hotel suite. Us girls are gonna get our party on. Then tomorrow we’re scheduled for an airboat swamp tour.”

“Good for you, Anya,” I say.

“You sure you’ll be okay?”

“With Vette gone for the night, and Reesy about to hook up with my mom for a sleepover, it’ll be tough, but I think I can manage.”

“Hmm, I’ll bet you can. I guess you’re just gonna watch Brax, huh? Do a little baby-sitting?” She smirks.

“Dani made plans to go to Joe’s Crab Shack, I–I told you that. So we’ll do that and that’s about it,” I assure her.

“Well, I’m glad you told me, but you’re gonna do what you want to do, anyway, so…Don’t forget the eyes of the Lord are in every place—”

“Anya, please.”

“Well, they are.”

“Okay, that’s nice to know,” I say. “Now, let me get back to my chores.”

Later on I wave at Anya when she backs out the driveway, her Honda packed for a four-day-weekend trip. I run and take a shower so I can go drop off Brax at Audrey’s, where Dani is waiting for me. She actually sweet-talked Audrey into watching Brax while we go out.

Dani and I hit Joe’s Crab Shack, the one near Reliant Stadium, and we have a good time eating steamed crab legs, corn on the cob, oysters, and parsley potatoes.

“I love the new job already,” Dani says, beaming “I work ten hours a day, Monday through Thursday. Roomy office, brand-new computer, even a reserved parking space. It feels like my real life is about to begin.”

Dani’s glowing in her pink spandex shirt, which partly falls off one shoulder, and a white denim miniskirt. It’s like she’s gained a few years, and a dazzling twinkle has returned to her eyes.

“I’m happy for you,” I tell her.

“I’ll bet you are, you dope.”

I blush and try to stop staring at this woman. Although our having dinner is based on very respectful terms, I hope we can hurry up and get out of here.

When we’ve finished eating, I comment, “That hit the spot,” and whip out my debit card to foot the bill.

“You’re about to go back to Audrey’s, right?” I ask her. “You need me to stop by anywhere before I take you back?”

Dani frowns. “Hmm, sure. There’s one place I want to visit before I go to Audrey’s.”

“No problem,” I say, hoping it won’t take long.

When we settle in the Explorer, she commands, “Hop on the South Loop and exit at Braeswood.”

I follow her instructions. Once we’re on Braeswood, we continue west for a while, then make a left onto Fondren.

When we end up in front of my house, I just look at her.

“Let’s go in, okay?” Dani whispers. “I want to finish celebrating.”

I gulp and unlock the doors. It’s seven in the evening. I imagine that Anya is almost in New Orleans by now. We enter the quiet house. Dani waits in the den and I go to my library and dial Anya’s cell phone. Voice mail kicks in. I disconnect the line and turn around. Dani is standing in the doorway.

“I’ve never been in here before,” she says, strolling to one corner of the room. Dani examines the spine of several encyclopedias. She picks one up and her mouth opens wide when a men’s magazine falls out. It’s an issue that I bought after Anya got rid of the rest of my stash. Various beautiful black women, of different complexions and sizes, are wearing thongs and aiming their huge, round butts at the camera.

“I didn’t know you were into this,” Dani says, holding up the magazine and eyeing me.

“I’m not,” I say, and snatch the magazine. “Let’s leave.”

“Let’s not,” she says, and plops down on the sofa, kicking off her heels. Her toenails are painted a shade of soft pink.

“Are you always so color coordinated?” I ask, and point to the pink clutch she’s gripping under her arm.

“Not all the time. I felt special today.” She sighs and leans back and closes her eyes. I notice her breasts pressing against her pink spandex shirt. Of course, she’s braless. I wish she wouldn’t do things like this. I wish she…I leave the library and head for the den.

“Whassa matter you?” she says, running behind me. When she tries to grab my hand, I shake my head.

“Neil?” She pouts. “Why are you acting like this?”

“Dani, please…”

“I’m gonna do that to you, baby. I promise.”

She leans toward me, closes her eyes, and puckers her glistening lips. I look at this woman, a woman whose existence has changed my entire life, and I take one step backward. She pops open her eyes; the hurt inside them is undeniable.

“I’m sorry, Dani, but this is where the foolishness ends.”

“You mean the sex, doing each other? You telling me you don’t want this anymore?”

I think long and hard and tell her, “No, not anymore.”

“Are you serious? Why not?”

“I need to do right by my wife. I’m tired of this back-and-forth. I love my son, but we can’t keep doing this, don’t have a right to do this. Someone’s going to get hurt.”

“But y–you told me you
loved
me. Did you lie?”

I turn away from her, unable to look her in the eye and speak painful words at the same time.

“I love you so much, Neil, it hurts, it does,” she moans, and firmly hugs me from the back, squeezing my waist. “The more you reject me, the more I—”

I take a deep breath and remove her soft hands off my trembling body, a body that wants her so much I wish I could die. I wish I could die to the strong desire, die to myself. But death is so final, so certain.

“At one time your words would flatter me, but now? Dani, why don’t you just leave? I’ll give you cab fare so you can go to Audrey’s and get Brax yourself. I’m not trying to be mean, but maybe we should do something different.”

“Neil, I can’t believe you. Do you realize all I’ve been through because of you? Lost my job, my apartment—”

“You made those decisions, too.”

“And what difference does that make? Is that supposed to make me feel any better? I don’t understand men. I’m giving you everything I have, Neil, every fucking thing, and it still isn’t good enough.”

“What you want me to do?” I ask, frustrated. “You think we can do this forever?”

“Y–yes.” She nods emphatically. “Let’s keep doing it.”

“But listen to yourself. Why would you even accept this? Don’t you want better?”

“I want
you,
Neil, you. Can’t you understand that?” She sucks in her breath, and there’s so much tension showing in her forehead that I know my words, however daunting, are sinking in. I do not like this, I don’t, but what other choice do I have? My feelings can be compared to when I discipline my daughter. I love Reese with all my heart but am obligated to correct her. And even though it hurts her and she thinks I’m mean, I know I have to do what’s best for her even if I don’t enjoy doing it.

“But I just don’t see why things have to change,” Dani pleads. “We can do this—you’ve said it many times yourself, Neil. You said you could make both of us happy.”

“That was way before I knew how life would end up. Juggling everything is too much sometimes. As much as I love my son, I can do better. And you can, too. He’s starting to notice everything you do now.”

“Oh, okay, right, our relationship is
all
my fault.” Her voice rises. “Totally my idea. But you’re the one that propositioned me at work, or did you forget that little detail?”

“I remember,” I say, and squeeze shut my eyes briefly. “I also remember calling you soon after our conversation and telling you I was having second thoughts. I felt that before we even got into this affair, we should slow down, reconsider. But you said it was too late, a done deal, and you pretty much seduced me.”

“Ha! Well, you could have changed your mind, too, Neil Braxton Meadows. You didn’t say no when I invited you to my place, and I definitely didn’t hear any complaints the first time I made you do some serious moaning.”

“You know, Dani, I can’t deny that. But I still think that if you had listened to me when I had my initial doubts—”

“Oh, I’m so sick of this blame game. What kind of man are you? Do you
ever
take responsibility? You know what? I–I–I can’t see myself wanting you anymore. God knows I can do way better than you, you prick.”

Even though I can’t figure out how she can come up with more to say, Dani keeps screaming. She stands before me, slapping my face with the palm of her hand so many times I stop counting. Yes, I’m a big man, but her punches sting and I jerk and flinch with every hit. It grieves me to hurt this woman, but I’d rather she and I hurt than to continue letting this pain affect my entire family.

The following week I stay strong as far as Dani is concerned, and by the time Saturday arrives, I ask Vette to watch Reese. I tell Anya, “I’m in the mood to go to the mall—haven’t been in a hundred years. You wanna go with me?”

Anya shrugs, smiles, and quickly grabs her purse.

We walk through Foley’s and end up in the women’s department. Tons of colorful summer outfits are displayed all around us.

“Hey, Anya, you see anything here that jumps out at you?”

“No, not really,” she says. But I notice her eyeing a lilac-colored dress with a flowery short-sleeve blouse and purple leather belt.

“Hmm, what about this?” I grab the outfit and thrust it at her. “Why don’t you go try it on?”

“Neil,” she argues, but I hear the delight in her voice. Anya grabs the dress and flees to the fitting room. I hear her squealing after a while. When she emerges from the fitting room and walks toward me sporting the new dress, I rise up from the chair I was sitting in.

“Mmmm, nice,” I tell her.

“You like?” She beams, glancing down at the outfit.

“Do you?”

“Shoot, do I? Haven’t you noticed something? I’m wearing a belt. I’m wearing a belt!”

I laugh and wink. When she returns to the fitting room and comes back out, I grab the dress from her and head to the nearest register. Anya says nothing. She simply smiles at me for the longest minute, staring like she’s just now seeing me for who I really am.

We walk back into the crowded mall and she trips over her own feet and accidentally drops her purse. Everything spills out of it. I bend over to help her pick up the pens, wallet, calculator, and a tube of lipstick. There are still other items, but instead of her waiting on me, she snaps, “Okay, let’s go.” Her face flushes to a deep red and she twists her back to show we’re leaving.

“No, wait, you forgot something.” I kneel and sweep into my hands four sealed packets of super maxi pads with wings that also spilled from her purse. People are smiling at me, watching me scoop up the packets, but I ignore their amused stares, and when I finally get to my feet and run to catch up with my wife, Anya’s face is still the color of crimson. But her hands are trembling. She’s smiling, and I don’t mind when she clutches my arm within hers—she latches on to me like she never wants us to be separated from each other again.

27

Dani

All during my “I hate Neil” phase (which lasts a good two weeks), I fix
my attention on getting oriented to my new job and whipping my new two-bedroom apartment into shape. Neil hasn’t bothered to come see me yet, but when he does, maybe he’ll regret the damaging words he said to me. When he finally makes his way over here and sees how cozy everything looks, I hope he’ll have a change of heart. I want him to take a good look at the bamboo wall coverings mounted from floor to ceiling, the bouquet of white lilies, gardenias, assorted tulips, and pink roses accented by baby’s breath. And I hope he’s impressed with the wicker gift baskets that sit next to the front door—they’re filled with all kinds of goodies (wrapped mints, aromatherapy candles, and those cute little cans of Sprite). These are items I am going to dole out to guests to show them I now have a home and some security. At least that’s my goal.

Neil and I have worked out a temporary arrangement. I will enroll Brax in my employer’s on-site day care. The baby and I will spend Monday through Thursday together, but come the weekend, Neil takes over. Because Brax has spent so much time over at his dad’s, playing with his sister and bonding with his extended family, Neil doesn’t want to interfere with that routine. It’s his suggestion, and I am fine with it.

So on Friday, mid-morning, a day that I know Neil has taken off from work, I find myself in the bathroom, calling him on his cell and attempting to style my hair at the same time.

“Hey, where’s the baby?” I ask.

“He’s here standing up, holding himself up by gripping the table. He’s cracking me up. You need to come see this.”

“Hmm, I guess so. Anya there?”

“Not right now.”

“I’m in the middle of doing laundry,” I tell him. “Maybe I’ll come by later. And I wonder when you’re going to stop making excuses and finally bring yourself over here?”

He pauses, voice firm. “I haven’t decided when or if yet, Dani.”

I clamp my mouth and wish he had given me a different answer. This man is so frustrating these days, a mere fraction of what he used to be. And this kind of change frightens me, like he’s handed me one of those “good-bye” notes that I’ve been too scared to read just yet. If only I could get him to return to his former self, I probably wouldn’t be so out of it like I’ve been feeling these days.

I’m happy about the new changes in my life, but I want to feel like Dani again.

“Neil, this is where your son is staying now. Aren’t you even a little bit curious about his new home?”

“Yeah, sure, but…”

“Okay, are you scared I’m going to rip off your shirt, your shorts, and rub myself against you as soon as you come in here?” I know how visual Neil is. All I have to do is say certain key words and I’m sure his juices start churning.

“Danielle,” he protests in a stubborn voice.

I smile. Hearing him say
Danielle
lets me know he’s mad. And you can’t have anger toward someone if you don’t have any feelings for them. I just want to know that he still feels something for me.

“A–are you happy, Neil?”

“Not answering that.”

I am hopeful enough to answer for him. Let’s get real. Anya Meadows has nothing on me. Sure, she’s lost tons of weight—okay, not literally but enough to let me notice that she struts around looking more confident and sexy. I don’t know everything that goes on in their bedroom these days, but there’s no way she and Neil can share the sexual fire that he and I once did.

I reach down and caress my nipple and stare listlessly in the bathroom mirror.

“Why are you so quiet?” Neil asks. “What are you doing? You got someone over there?” he asks jokingly.

“I wish.” I smile. “I wish
you’d
come over here.”

“Is that a fact?” he says.

Like times past, I imagine his thick bulge waving at me from inside his slacks. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s horny. It’s been so long since we’ve made love that I’m starting to feel like a wife.

“Don’t even try it, Neil. You know how much I still want you.”

“Hmmm,” he murmurs. Maybe his visual creativeness is kicking in.

“Well, after I put the clothes in the dryer, I guess I can pick up Brax. Even though I dropped him off last night, I miss him. Does he miss me?”

“He called Anya ‘Mama.’”

“Oh, did he? I’m walking out the door right now,” I say. “Can’t be having my son calling her that.”

I decide to dress in one of Neil’s favorite outfits—a white spandex top and a lime-green miniskirt with some three-inch pumps. I put on sheer white panty hose, and the essential cheeky pants that I hope he wants to slide off my hips one more time. I douse myself with six different perfumes. A shot of light spray behind each ear. Body mist squirted on the front of my neck. A fruity aroma between the breasts. Another blast of eau de toilette near my crotch. And two different floral fragrances sprayed on each ankle.

What will happen when I walk in Neil’s house, dressed so hot with my curls falling all over my head and every inch of my body smelling like dozens of roses? What will he do if I grab a bottle of honey and ask him to lick it off me, something he’s done before? How can he resist when I squeeze him around the waist and cover his cheeks, his forehead, and his lips with some of Dani’s juicy kisses? That’s the thing. Once I put it on him good, I don’t see how he can resist. Then his mind will start clicking and he will give up this nonsense about being with
her.
Then I can jog his memory about what he’s had and enjoyed, and what he can continue to have and enjoy.

I pull up in the Meadows’ driveway and smile when I see the Explorer parked in front of the house. I look in the mirror again. Makeup is intact, some curls are partially covering my eyes, and my lips are glistening from this strawberry gloss that Neil used to enjoy kissing off me.

I swing my legs out of my whip and take a deep breath. My panties are moist. It’s difficult to walk in these heels, but damned if I’m not gonna try. I cannot wait for Neil to make love to me like I’m Beyoncé, Halle, and Janet Jackson all rolled into one.

I step up to the front door. It’s partially open, so I just go in. It’s like my man is expecting me. I like that. I walk right through the foyer, past the den, straight to the library. I tap once, grab the door handle, and march in. The door makes a light swishing sound. I place my hands on my hips and stare at Anya’s side. She’s scooping up a porno mag and tossing it in a garbage bag.

I clear my throat. “What are you doing?”

Anya swirls around, her eyes enlarged. “How’d you get in here?” she says. “You scared me.”

I sigh heavily and question her with my eyes.

Anya looks me up and down. “Neil’s not here.”

“Where’d he go?”

“Why you want to know?”

I can’t believe the agitation in her voice. Okay, maybe I shouldn’t act so pushy. I need to calm down a notch.

“I, uh, he asked me something about getting tickets to the circus,” I tell her. “And I wanted to follow up.”

“Neil hasn’t told me anything about circus tickets, Dani. And, uh, why are you coming over to my house to see my husband dressed like a whore? Oh, I remember why, its ’cause you
are
a whore.”

Anya drops the garbage bag on the floor and leaves the library.

I follow her to the kitchen. “Anya, can you explain why you’re being so rude?”

She swirls around, waving her arms. “I don’t have to explain anything to you. By now everything should be clear and certain. You, Danielle Frazier, don’t belong here. Period. I want you to pick up your son and I want you gone. You and Neil will have to create a different kind of arrangement. And if he’s not up to the task, then I’ll do it. But this is the last time you’re stepping inside my house.”

“What—”

“Shut up. Baby mama or no baby mama, you don’t have any rights. And you definitely don’t have more rights than me. So if it takes deprogramming your little mind and making you understand who is who around here, then I am prepared to do that.”

I gape at her open-mouthed. Her eyes are blazing and I see a butcher knife on the counter, so I decide to chill out. I wouldn’t want to have to use it on her.

“Where’s Brax?” I ask in a delicate voice, and try to smile.

“He’s upstairs. I’ll get him. You go sit on the couch. Don’t go anywhere else in my house. And do not try to call Neil.”

I stomp into the den and flop down on the couch, crossing my legs at the ankle, my mind swirling. What the fuck’s wrong with her? And why’d Neil take off so fast and leave me to deal with this mess? I hate being blindsided and not being able to figure out what to do.

Anya brings down Braxton, goes back upstairs, and returns with three huge bags of clothes, two more bags of diapers, toys, blankets, every single thing that has to do with my son. I feel discarded. So unwanted. Sure, she’s his wife, but do I have to be treated so awful? Like a nothing…a pariah…or maybe she’s giving me what I’ve often given her. Even so, I can’t appreciate how she’s acting.

I feel so humiliated. My jaw is rigid and I am this close to falling apart, something I’ve never wanted to do in front of Anya. But feeling vulnerable, all I can do is grab Brax and give him a strong hug. I wish he would hug me back, but he doesn’t. Instead he squirms wildly in my arms, like he’s forcing me to let him go. Something has Brax’s attention, and instead of fighting him, I let him have his way and allow him to drop to the floor.

While Anya continues to fuss at me like I’m less than a piece of shit, Brax crawls to a table and pulls himself up. He picks up an object, looks at it, and opens his mouth. I want to tell him to come here, but Anya is yelling at me like she’s crazy, which makes me want to run to the kitchen and grab that knife in case she really goes off. But then her screaming stops. She points at Brax, who has fallen back on the floor.

I rush to his side. “Brax, what’s wrong?”

I look down and lock eyes with my son…He is staring at me strange…and his face is slowly turning blue. I lift him up and pat his back. He doesn’t respond. I slap his back again. “Brax, Brax!” I scream. “Say something.” I laugh like this nightmare isn’t really happening, then stop.

“Anya, could you? I can’t, he’s not—” I scream again.

“Dani, I don’t think he’s breathing. Don’t slap—it could make things worse. Let me have him.” Anya extracts the baby from my arms, grabs a chair, and sits him on her lap facing away from her. Her index and middle fingers resemble a pad when she places them under his rib cage, then quickly thrusts inward and upward. Nothing happens. I watch her thrusting, and hear her praying, until my baby coughs, sputters, and expels a lime-green button from his mouth. When Brax starts quietly crying, making the same amazing noises I heard the day I gave birth to him, Anya whispers, “Oh God, keep protecting him.”

All I can think to do is snatch my purse and head for my truck. I get in the vehicle, turn on the ignition, back out the driveway, and never look back at the door. But in my rearview mirror I see Anya holding and cradling my son, and for the first time ever, I’m glad she’s doing it.