Flawfully Wedded Wives (12 page)

—
Reginell Kerry

 

Reginell bowed politely as the sparse crowd applauded her before handing off the microphone to the emcee. It wasn't exactly Madison Square Garden, but she was grateful that her boss would let her perform during the last twenty minutes of her waitressing shifts on amateur night at Chase's Bar and Grill, where she worked.

As she darted off the small wooden platform that was a lame excuse for a stage, Reginell spotted Ray, her former singing manager and a strip club owner, lurking near the bar, with his full lips wrapped around a cigar. His eyelids hung low around his bloodshot eyes, as he was perpetually high on one substance or another. She tied her apron around her waist, grabbed her tray, and raced over to greet him.

Reginell plastered on a saccharine smile. “Hey, Ray, long time no see.”

He poked his pudgy fingers into her apron pockets and spotted her tips earnings. “Is that all you've made in tips tonight?” he asked before taking a swig from the bottle of beer he was holding. “I remember when you used to make twice that with one table dance.”

“I remember too.” Reginell flashed the small wad of one-dollar bills. “This is barely enough to fill up my tank. On top of that, I've got to split it with two other waitresses.”

Ray looked around at the badly lit, half-empty dive. “At least you know it can't get no worse than this.”

“I guess waiting tables and splitting pennies is all a high school education will get you these days.”

Ray rested his arm over his portly belly. “Tough breaks, kid.”

“Yeah, well, I've got to make money some kind of way, unless, of course, you've got some news for me,” she added anxiously.

“What kind of news? What you called me for, Reggie? So I could watch you get humiliated up close and personal?”

“No. What do you think about me getting my old job back?”

He alternated between his cigar and beer again before answering her. “I don't.”

Reginell pursed her lips together and swallowed the remnants of pride she had left. “Ray, I know we didn't part on the best of terms, but if you give me another chance, you won't regret it.”

He looked her up and down. “Shoot, you ain't got nothing I want, Reggie.”

She tossed her braids back and stuck her chest out. “I used to.”

“Yeah, but that was before you fouled up that video shoot I sent you to, and before you just up and quit the club with no notice or nothing. You didn't even bother to clean out your locker.”

“Ray, that so-called music video shoot was an orgy waiting to happen! And the only reason I quit the club was that Mark didn't want me working there anymore.”

“Did he change his mind?”

“No, but this ain't about him. This is about survival, and this right here”—she looked around at the restaurant—“ain't gon' cut it.”

Ray grunted. “I might have something for you.”

She squealed, “For real?”

“Yeah, we've got some big names coming through this weekend. I might be able to use you to work security or something like that.”

Reginell stomped her foot in frustration. “Come on, Ray!
Security?
”

“Oh, you think you still got it? It's been a while since you've been up on that pole.”

She gave him a coy smile. “Don't you worry, baby. Juicy's still got it.”

“That remains to be seen. I'll tell you what. Come by next week, on New Booty Tuesday, and I'll see what you're working with. You've got to start from the bottom just like everybody else.”

Reginell agreed with a pouty mouth. “That's fine. Maybe I shouldn't go in full throttle, anyway, just start with part-time and work my way back up.”

Ray laughed. “That's what you say now, but I know you like the loot. When the fellas start popping those bands, you'll be ready to dance.”

“Uh-huh. We'll see.”

“Yes, we will.” Ray slipped his fedora over his cornrows. “Seeing as how standing here talking to you ain't makin' me no paper, I need to get back to my moneymaking
chicas
down at Paramours.”

“Yeah, you do that. Let 'em make all the money they can while they can, because once Juicy steps back on the stage, they're going to be driving home with a lot fewer coins in their pockets!” vowed Reginell.

Ray darted toward the door, crossing paths with an unwitting Mark on his way out. Reginell gulped when she saw the two of them within inches of each other.

Mark approached Reginell and kissed her on the cheek. “Hey, babe. You ready to go?”

“In a minute. I need to cash out and take a look at the schedule for next week.”

Mark tilted her face toward him. “You all right? You look a little flushed.”

Reginell forced herself to smile. “I'm fine, just tired. Thanks for giving me a ride home.”

“Anything for you, you know that.” He pecked her on the lips. “Say, who was the guy that just left out of here?”

Reginell swallowed hard. “Huh?”

“Big dude in the hat. I thought I saw him talking to you. He wasn't giving you a hard time, was he?”

“No, he's a customer who had one too many drinks and got a little friendly, that's all,” Reginell lied. “Stay here. I'll be right back.”

Reginell heard the lie again in her head as she made her way to the back of the restaurant. It was the first time she'd ever lied to Mark. Until she stacked the kind of money she needed to subsidize her living situation, she doubted that it would be the last.

—
Angel King

 

Following a day of sightseeing, tearing along wooded trails on rented bikes, and nearly eating themselves into a coma, Angel and Jordan bid each other good night around midnight and retired to separate rooms across the hall from one another.

Angel had drifted off into a twilight sleep when she was awakened by a knock at the door. Clad only in her bra and panties, Angel wrapped the blanket around her body and switched on the lamp before answering the door. “Who is it?” she asked before unlocking it.

“Baby, it's me,” Jordan replied in return.

Angel swung open the door, prepared to chastise him for waking her at two o'clock in the morning, but before she could say anything, he shut the door and covered her mouth with his and began kissing her passionately.

Angel broke away from him to catch her breath. “Wait a minute,” she panted. “We shouldn't be doing this. It's late and we're away from home and we're in this bedroom together. . .”

Jordan cupped her face in his hands. “Angel, baby, I want you so bad. It's been driving me crazy knowing that you're right across the hall and I can't even touch you.” He began devouring her neck and eased back her blanket.

Angel could feel herself swoon as he pressed his body firmly against hers. “It's tempting to me too, but we've got to do what the Word says—flee from sexual fornication.”

Jordan peeled back the T-shirt he was wearing, revealing ribbed abs carved into his caramel complexion. “Is that what you want me to do? Flee?” He leaned down to kiss her again.

Angel's chest heaved rapidly. “I can't think straight. . . . Give me a second.” Angel struggled to pull a scripture—any scripture—from her memory bank. Either her mind drew a blank or it was drowned out by her libido, driven to its peak by almost two years of celibacy. All she could come up with was,
Jesus wept.

Jordan caressed her arms. “You're so soft and beautiful,” he whispered in her ear. “I started falling in love with you the moment I laid eyes on you at the hospital that day.”

Angel found herself returning his touches and kisses. “You're not playing fair, Mr. Jordan.”

He ran his hand along her back until he reached the fastener on her bra. The hooks disengaged in his hand. “I can't help it. Of all the people and of all the places, we were at the same place at the same moment hundreds of miles from home. Don't you think God had a hand it that, baby?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

A moan escaped Angel's lips as Jordan ran his hand along the contours of her body. “Don't send me back to the other room, Angel. I want you so bad, I'm almost ashamed of myself. I want to hold you. I want to taste you.”

“I want you too.”

“Just live in the moment, baby. We'll repent tomorrow.”

Jordan hoisted her up and carried her over to the bed and turned off the light.

 

After the heated fervor and passion of their tryst, condemnation enveloped Angel as she lay naked in Jordan's arms. “How did we let this happen?”

Jordan glided his fingers through her disheveled hair. “I believe it was fate.”

“I believe it was lust,” she retorted. “I'm so disappointed in myself.”

“Don't be. It was a romantic moment.” He kissed her. “I don't want you to have any regrets.”

“It's nothing against you personally, Jordan.” She exhaled. “The only other man I've ever been with is my ex-husband, Duke. Even though I'm not a virgin, it was still important to me to save myself for the man I'm going to marry.”

“How do you know I won't be that man, huh?”

She flashed him the side eye. “I just wish we had waited, like we said we were going to do.”

Jordan sat up. “Hold up. I didn't force myself on you. You wanted it as much as I did. And if I can be honest, you seemed to enjoy it as much as I did too. Both times.”

“I know that. Nothing happened that I didn't let happen or want to happen, but it made me feel like we had sort of a special connection through our celibacy.”

“Now we have a special sexual connection,” teased Jordan.

Angel turned her back to him. “It's not the same thing.”

He held her. “I was kidding, Angel. We had a special connection before, and we still do now. Nothing about the way I feel about you has changed. If it has, my feelings have only gotten stronger.”

Angel didn't say anything.

“Well, look, I know you're feeling a little let down, but at least you can take comfort knowing I didn't give you anything.”

Angel sprang up. “What?”

“You know . . . an STD or something.”

“Why would you bring that up at this moment, Jordan?”

“Relax. I said I
didn't
give you anything. I got my HIV results back yesterday. I'm clean as a whistle!”

“Huh?” was all Angel could think to say.

“You don't believe me? I can show you my papers,” he offered.

“It's not that. It's just . . .” She couldn't even form into words what she wanted to say. “Were you at risk? Is that why you took an AIDS test?”

He shrugged. “Word on the street was that somebody I used to mess with had that die-slow, so I didn't want to take any chances.”

“Had what?”

“You know, that die-slow . . . that package . . . the monster . . . HIV positive.”

“Oh.” Angel sank lower into the bed. Her biggest concern about their unprotected romp had been an unwanted pregnancy. Now even that paled in comparison to everything else Jordan might have given her. “I'm glad you tested negative, but you know you have to be tested again in a few months to be sure. Correction. I guess now
we
have to be tested.”

“No, this was the second test. I'm not some shady guy, Angel. I didn't so much as touch a woman while I waiting to find out.”

“Is that why you were celibate?”

He paused. “Well, yeah,” replied Jordan, as if there was no other logical reason to abstain from sex.

“Here, I thought you were waiting like me, that sex was something you wanted to save for the woman you married.”

“Babe, technically, I never said I was celibate. I said I was on a break. Now that my stuff is clean, the break is over.”

“I don't believe this is happening.”

Jordan kissed her on the cheek. “You're just tired. Go to sleep. You'll feel better in the morning.”

“I'm serious, Jordan. We can never be this careless again.”

“Will you stop talking like that? You're making me have regrets now. Trust me, when you wake up, you'll see that it's not even that big of a deal. Shoot, you'll probably want to go another round. Let's go to sleep. I'm beat.”

With that, Jordan wrapped his arms around her and went to sleep.

Angel lay wide awake until the sun peeked through the blinds of her window. Even though she was securely in Jordan's arms, she'd never felt so alone in her life.

—
Sullivan Webb

 

“So do you think I should call him Sammy or Dad or Pastor Sullivan?” Sullivan asked Charles as she set the table for dinner. Samuel Sullivan had called to make plans to see Sullivan again the next week and to meet her family. She had suggested dinner at her house, and he had agreed to make the journey to Savannah.

“I think you should call him whatever you're both comfortable with. Did he say anything about his wife coming or his other children?”

Sullivan shook her head. “He hasn't told them yet. He's waiting for the right time.”

Charles stopped her. “Honey, are you positive you want to pursue this?”

“Yes, Charles, why wouldn't I? I've been waiting for this moment my whole life.”

Charles kissed her on the cheek. “I just don't want to see you hurt or disappointed.”

“I won't be,” she assured him. “My father has missed me as much as I've missed him. If it wasn't for Vera practically kidnapping me like she did, we never would've been apart this long.”

“I don't know if it's fair to put all the blame on Vera, sweetheart.”

“That's because you see the good in everyone, but you don't know her like I do. Keeping me from my dad was probably her way of punishing him for choosing his wife over her.”

“That may be true, but I want you to keep a level head and an open mind.”

Charles's words were followed by a knock at the door.

“He's here!” Sullivan squealed with all the excitement of a ten-year-old. “How do I look?”

“Marvelous,” said Charles.

Sullivan scampered to the door and greeted Samuel with a smile. “Hello and welcome to our home.”

“Thank you for inviting me.” He nervously extended a bouquet of mixed pink peonies. “I don't know much about flowers. The florist said you'd like these.”

She accepted them. “I love them. Please come on in. Let me take your coat.”

Samuel followed Sullivan inside her spacious contemporary Victorian home. “This is a nice home you've got here, Sullivan.”

Sullivan set the flowers down and hung up his coat in a hall closet. “We've been blessed. We're living proof that God is good.” She led him into their dining room.

Charles stepped forward and shook Samuel's hand. “It's good to see you again, Brother.”

“Same here. I guess you're the one responsible for us all being here today.”

“I don't take the credit. God has a way of placing us where we need to be and when we need to be there in order to carry out His divine purpose.”

Samuel agreed. “It's kind of ironic. As her father, I gave Sullivan life and, by extension, gave her to you. Then you turned around and gave my daughter back to me.”

Sullivan beamed. Seeing the two men who meant the most to her in the same room at the same time was something she had feared she'd never see unless there was a dead body and a funeral involved.

Samuel turned to Sullivan. “When do I get to meet this granddaughter of mine?”

Charles squeezed Sullivan's hand. “You stay here with your father. I'll go get her.”

“Have a seat,” offered Sullivan.

Samuel sat down. “I have to admit, Sullivan, I'm a little uncomfortable.”

“Why?”

“I never thought I'd be here. I never thought you, and especially your husband, would accept me into your home knowing what I've done.”

“Charles is very forgiving and understanding. So am I. We probably understand infidelity a lot more than you think we do.” Sullivan broke into a huge grin when she saw Charity tottering into the room. “There she is! Hi, princess!” Sullivan scooped her daughter up and kissed her. “We have someone very special here today.”

Charity began babbling in response.

“She's a beauty, like her mother,” said Samuel.

Sullivan balanced Charity on her hip. “She's starting to talk now. She can say Mama and Daddy and ball. She also says something that sounds kind of like deuce or dice. We can't figure out if she's saying juice or diamonds. She's my child, so it could go either way. Would you like to hold her?”

Samuel warily approached them, barely inching out his arms. “Can I?”

“Sure.” Sullivan transferred Charity to her grandfather's waiting arms.

Samuel held Charity close to his chest. “Hey, baby girl.”

“Charity, this is your grandfather,” Sullivan told her. “Can you say Grandpa?”

“It's been a while since I held a baby,” said Samuel. “Am I doing it right?”

Sullivan stood back, watching them. “It's perfect.”

“Let me get the camera,” offered Charles, reaching into his pocket to retrieve his phone.

“Oh, yes, we need pictures!” Sullivan replied, remembering. She scooted in next to her father.

“Everybody say ‘cheese,'” ordered Charles. “Better yet, everybody say ‘family.'”

“Family!” said Samuel and Sullivan in unison.

After they snapped several pictures of Sullivan and her father, Samuel playing with Charity, and Samuel with Charles, Charles suggested that Sullivan show her father around the house while they waited for dinner to get finished.

Sullivan guided Samuel on a tour of the second floor of their house.

“This is all very lovely, Sullivan.”

“Thank you. You ought to come back during Christmastime. I go all out with the decorations. In fact, we're having our annual Christmas social here the first weekend in December. You and Marti should come.”

“We'll do that, Sullivan. Thank you. This artwork is very exquisite,” Samuel said, observing the painting that hung in the hallway. “I don't think I've ever seen this kind of work.”

“You haven't seen these anywhere, because I'm the one who painted them.”

Samuel stopped and stared at her. “You, Sullivan?”

She blushed. “Yeah. I was an art major in college. Painting has always been kind of a hobby of mine.”

“This is more than a hobby, sweetheart. This is a gift from the Lord. Where did you go to school?”

“I graduated from Howard.”

“Howard, huh? That's mighty fine.” Samuel's face saddened. “I didn't even attend your graduation.”

Sullivan hugged him. “It's okay. You'll attend Charity's graduation.”

Samuel pulled away from her. “You must think I'm a sleaze.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Here I am, a self-proclaimed man of God who was cattin' around on his wife. I didn't just cheat on her. I had another family.”

Sullivan didn't want to seem judgmental. “It happens, you know?”

“Your husband probably really thinks the worst of me.”

“Charles isn't some sheltered, backwoods preacher. He knows what goes on in the real world.”

“I guess you all see a lot of this kind of thing in the church, huh?”

“We have.” She bit her lip. “We've seen a little of it in our own home too.”

Samuel was shocked. “Charles?”

Sullivan shook her head. “No . . . me. It's probably safe to say that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.”

“What happened? The two of you seem so happy together.”

“We are, but we hit a rough patch a few years ago. Charles was busy with his campaign for county commissioner, and I was a bored, self-centered housewife looking for some excitement. I found it in a twenty-three-year-old mechanic.”

“A mechanic?” Samuel chuckled. “You seem more like the high-maintenance type.”

Sullivan laughed. “Believe me, I am! But Vaughn and I clicked, and before I knew it . . .” He nodded, understanding. “The secret didn't stay a secret for very long, though. There was a huge scandal behind it. It cost Charles his election, caused a huge rift in the church, and nearly destroyed my marriage.”

“It looks like you two survived. You're together, and you have that beautiful baby girl.”

Sullivan looked down at the floor. “Yeah, that's another thing.”

“What?”

“Charity.” Sullivan took a deep breath. “My daughter might not be Charles's biological child.”

Samuel's eyes popped. “Oh! Well, your husband handles it very well. You'd never know by looking at the two of them together and the way he interacts with her.”

“That's because Charles doesn't know,” she admitted.

“Do you plan to tell him or have her DNA tested?”

“I suppose one day I'll get the nerve to do it. So, you see, you're not the only one who has made mistakes and has been less than honorable in marriage. We all have skeletons.”

Samuel took her hand. “Thank you for trusting me enough to confide in me, Sullivan. You don't know what that means to me.”

“You're my father. If I can't trust you, who can I trust?”

“A lot of people would wonder why you trust me and why you aren't nursing a grudge.”

“I know you didn't leave me because you wanted to. You were in an impossible situation. Besides, there may come a day when Charity finds out all my secrets, and I wouldn't want her to hold the past against me. When I think about how many times Charles has forgiven me after I've let him down, how can I do any less for my own father?”

He kissed her on the forehead.

“Do you think any less of me now that you know about Charity's DNA debacle?” she ventured.

“No, I think you're human. I also think you're incredibly brave and strong. I see why your husband adores you.”

“I adore him too. I just took me some time to realize it.”

Samuel nodded. “I know what you mean. I was the same way with Marti. Your mother, Vera, was vibrant and sexy and exciting, probably like your mechanic. Being with her was like a rush or an adventure. But Marti was this gentle, quiet, sweet spirit. It was years before I learned to appreciate it. Excitement is appealing for a season, but as you get older and start thinking about the kind of life and family you want, you gravitate toward the Charleses and the Martis of the world.

“I've learned so much about being a man, a husband, and a father from my wife. She's my partner in every way. As much as I cared for Vera, she couldn't give me what I needed. I don't think I was what she needed either.”

“Well, Cliff certainly isn't what she needs,” muttered Sullivan.

“Who's Cliff? Is he her husband?”

“He's her boyfriend. He's the living, breathing definition of
slime,
but he's a steady source of income, which is all that matters to Vera. She's let materialism reside where love and compassion used to live.”

Samuel shook his head. “That makes me sad. It was always my wish that she'd fall in love and settle down with a nice man. It was my prayer that she'd have a good stepfather looking after you, being the father I couldn't be.”

“That didn't happen. I spent a lot of my childhood being used and molested by the men Vera had in her life.”

Samuel's face reflected the crushing blow the news was to him as a father. “Sullivan, you have no idea how much it breaks my heart to hear that.”

“It wasn't your fault.”

“I should've been there, though. I should've protected you.”

“I had God protecting me,” she told him. “Besides, I'm a survivor!”

“Baby girl, I missed the first half of your life, but I'm here now. If you'll let me, I want to be here for the second half of it.”

“
If I'll let you?
” she repeated. “That's what I've wanted to hear my entire life! You're my daddy.”

Samuel smiled. “I appreciate your confidence in me. I won't let you down, not again. You, me, Marti, and the boys will just have to figure out a way to make this work.”

“I know we will.”

Samuel embraced his long-lost daughter. Sullivan held her father, feeling for the first time that the missing piece in her heart was slowly starting to fill.