Flawfully Wedded Wives (5 page)

“It's a blessed day here at Friendship Temple!” greeted the voice on the other end of the line. “May I help you?”

“Yes,” answered Sullivan. “I'm looking for Pastor Sullivan, please.”

“May I ask who's calling?”

Sullivan hesitated. “Um . . . Lawson Banks.” Lawson angrily nudged her. Sullivan signaled to her to be quiet.

“Hold please.”

“Why did you give them my name?” spewed Lawson.

Sullivan flung her hand to silence her. “Calm down. Nobody knows you.”

A deep baritone voice piped through the phone. “Hello. Pastor Sullivan speaking. How can I help you?”

Sullivan was suddenly lost for words. She didn't recognize the voice on the other end of the line and realized she had no idea what she was going to say.

“Hello?” repeated the voice.

“Yes . . . hello, Pastor Sullivan. I think you can help me with something, at least I hope you can.”

“I'll try.”

“Did you ever live in Savannah, Georgia?”

Samuel Sullivan hesitated but then answered her question. “I grew up there.”

Sullivan muted the phone. “He's from Savannah!” she whispered. “I think this is really him!”

Sullivan cleared her throat and unmuted the line. “Um, do you know a woman by the name of Vera Jackson?”

“Is she a member here?”

Sullivan began pacing the floor, her heart pounding a mile a minute. “No, she's lives on St. Simons Island, but she used to live in Savannah.”

“Sister, I haven't lived in Savannah for nearly a hundred years! If I did know anyone by that name, the memory is long gone. Is there anything else I can help you with? If not, I need to get back to the church's business.”

“Are you positive you don't know a Vera Jackson?” Sullivan asked, nearly convinced that the man on the other end of the line was her father. “She has a daughter. She was named Sullivan after her father . . . you.”

Pastor Sullivan had no response.

Sullivan didn't know what to think. “Hello? Are you still there?”

“All right, who is this, and what do you want?” demanded the pastor, his voice now somber.

“I just need to know if I'm talking to the right man,” explained Sullivan. “Did you father a child with Vera Jackson thirty-three years ago in Savannah, Georgia?”

“I told you, I don't know anybody named Vera Jackson or her child. I suggest you tell me what you want right now, or hang up and don't call back!”

Sullivan was offended. “I don't want anything from you, not the way you mean.”

“Either tell me who this is or I'm hanging up.”

“It's Sullivan, the daughter of Vera Jackson and Samuel Sullivan.”

At that, the phone went silent.

“Hello? Did you hear me?” asked Sullivan.

“I'm afraid you have me confused with someone else. I don't have a daughter. I don't know who this is, but don't call here, trying to stir up trouble. Better yet, don't call here again.”

Samuel Sullivan hung up the phone without saying another word.

—
Lawson Kerry Banks

 

Armed with an extra hundred dollars in tips from her waitressing job and a nearly maxed-out credit card, Reginell scoured the mall for evening gowns, dragging her sister along in the process.

“OMG, how cute is this?” Reginell said, gushing, as she held up a designer cocktail dress. “It would be perfect for the retirement banquet. This dress was made for me!”

Lawson checked out the price tag. “No, this dress was made for someone who can afford to drop seven hundred dollars in one pop. You're not one of those people.”

Reginell sulked and hung the dress back up. “I used to be. I could've made the money for this dress, plus a pair of shoes to match, in one night at Paramours.”

“Yeah, but in the end, it would've cost you a lot more than the price of a dress and a pair of shoes.”

“I know,” Reginell replied wistfully. “I do miss it sometimes, though.”

“What part do you miss, honey?” Lawson sifted through the evening gowns, looking for something her sister could realistically afford. “Having a bunch of strange men groping all over you, making you do things that would shame the devil, for a few lousy bucks? Do you miss having to get high or drunk to make it through your shift? Do you miss not having any self-respect?”

Reginell sucked her teeth. “It wasn't like that every night, Lawson. Sometimes it was a lot of fun.”

“You didn't appear to be having much fun when you had to get that restraining order on your strip club stalker or when that crazy chick jumped on you for going into the champagne room with her boyfriend,” recalled Lawson.

“It's not like waiting tables is that much better.”

“At least it's honest work that you can be proud of. It's better to work for a living than to have to twerk for a living, Reggie.”

“All right, all right . . . point taken.” Reginell sighed. “I'm just saying money was the last thing I had to worry about then. It's the only thing I worry about now. This minimal wage BS ain't cuttin' it!”

“If you want to make some more money, do what the rest of us do—go back to school and finish earning your degree. Then you can stop waiting tables and make the kind of money you want—with your clothes on, I might add.”

“Yeah, in the meantime I've got to keep bumming rides with you, because I can't afford to get my car fixed.”

“I don't mind. Besides, why don't you ask Mark? I'm sure he wouldn't mind helping you out. He is your fiancé.”

Reginell lifted a strapless gown. “He offered, but I turned him down.”

“Why?”

“I don't want him to feel like he's marrying a freeloader. He already had to bail me out with the rent last month.” She returned the gown, knowing without looking at the price that she probably couldn't afford it.

“Honey, Mark loves you. He wants to be there for you.”

Reginell shook her head. “I'm going to figure out a way to handle it without asking Mark.” She hesitated before speaking again. “I may ask Ray, though.”

Lawson frowned. “Ray? Why would you ask that manager-slash-pimp for anything?”

“I made Ray a lot of money down at the club. The least he can do is let me hold a few hundred dollars.”

“That's not the only thing Ray is going to have you holding, Reggie,” warned Lawson.

“It's strictly business between Ray and me. He owes me.”

“And you owe Mark more than to go sneaking behind his back to ask Ray for money!”

“Ugh!” groaned Reginell. “Why can't you stay out my business sometimes?”

“You're my baby sister. That automatically makes you my business. Mark is Namon's father, which makes
him
my business too. Reggie, you're just starting to get your life back on track. You're better than all that now. Don't go backward. You have a strong relationship with the Lord, you have a fiancé, and you're about to be stepmother to a young, impressionable girl, in addition to being a stepmother to my son. Think about everything you stand to lose by getting mixed up in that life again.”

“Dang, Lawson, I didn't say I was definitely going to do it. I said I was thinking about it, so stop trippin'.”

“Well, think about something else, like finding a dress over there on the clearance rack, where you belong. Better yet, borrow a dress from Sullivan, like I told you to do a week ago, when you found out about the event.”

“That troll has nothing I want, and you know she'll make me beg to borrow one of her big-name dresses. I refuse to give her the satisfaction.”

“Then I'll ask her. She knows better than to act crazy with me. I know too many of her secrets.”

Reginell and Lawson wandered to the undergarment section of the department store.

“How are things with you and Garrett?” asked Reginell.

“We're great,” Lawson lied. Reginell gave her a hard look. “We're surviving. Things are no better but no worse.”

“Do you think your marriage can survive this situation with Simon and Simone?”

“I hope so, but I don't know. Despite everything that's happened, I still love my husband, Reggie,” Lawson confessed. “It nearly killed me during those weeks we were separated. I can't go through that again, and I can't see myself without him.”

“Then you've got to embrace Simon as your own child, like Garrett did with Namon, and you've got to let this thing with Simone go. Yeah, he slept with her and screwed up big-time, but he's not sleeping with her now. Forget about it and move on.”

Lawson puffed up with rage. “It burns me up, you know, to look at her and her child and to know that she's given my husband something that I can't.”

“Simone has given him something you won't. That's a whole lot different from
can't.
”

“Reggie, I refuse to get pregnant in order to compete with Simone.”

“Chick, you've got to be doing more than
sleeping
with your husband for that to even occur. How are things in the bedroom?”

Lawson recoiled.
“Reggie!”

“What?”

“I know you're an adult, but you're still my baby sister. It feels weird talking to you about what goes on between Garrett and me between the sheets.”

“It's not like I'm clueless as to what goes on behind closed doors. Maybe it's what's
not
going on that's causing a problem.”

“Our sex life is fine, Reggie.”

“What do you call
fine?
”

Lawson sighed. “Our sex life is like our marriage—could be better, could be worse.”

“Humph. If I were you, I'd stop looking at those granny panties and get myself a couple of these.” Reginell passed her a sheer, crotch-less negligee.

Lawson beheld it with disdain. “Reggie, nothing about this thing looks sexy or comfortable.”

“You ain't wearing it for your comfort,” said Reginell, hanging it back on the rack. “You're wearing it so Garrett can take it off! Sis, you may be the expert in teaching, but I'm the expert in
doing.
Trust me, I know what I'm talking about.”

“I bet you do,” murmured Lawson.

“I'm serious, Lawson. I can show you how to do a sexy lap dance for him that'll have Garrett eating out of your hands and anywhere else you want him to!”

Lawson couldn't help laughing. “Reggie, as you will find out whenever you and Mark jump the broom, sex is not a cure-all for everything that's wrong in a marriage. Sex is what got us into this predicament in the first place!”

“That's because he wasn't having it with you. I'm not saying it'll fix everything, but if you have ninety-nine problems, sex shouldn't be one of them. You and Garrett used to be hot and heavy all the time. You need to get back to that. Shoot, you never should've left it!”

“It's hard to be attracted to him when I'm worried about whether or not he's started back sleeping with Simone. When we're together, I find myself thinking, ‘I wonder if he did this to her. Did she show him that move?' It takes all the romance out of it.”

Reginell shook her head. “Lawson, what are you always telling me? If you're going to pray, don't worry. If you're going to worry, don't pray. Everybody knows if Lawson Banks does nothing else, she prays, so stop worrying about all that.” Reginell whipped out her cell phone. “Besides, if you want to show Garrett some moves he ain't never seen before, I have this one hundred different sexual positions app on my phone. See? Check this out.”

Lawson pushed the phone out of her line of vision. “That won't be necessary, Reggie. Thank you.”

Reginell tucked her phone away. “Okay, do it your way, but don't say I didn't try to help out. This is a battle, but you've got home-court advantage. There's nothing wrong with using what you've got to get what you want, and what you want is all of Garrett's attention on you.”

Lawson mulled it over and reluctantly chose a pink Chantilly lace garter belt and matching bustier from the rack. “Do you think they have this in black?”

Reginell's lips creased into a devilish smile. “That's what I'm talking about. I knew you had you some inner freak up under all that . . . anti-freak.”

Lawson opted for the black version in her size and headed to the sales counter with Reginell. “This better work, because I have a lot more to lose than a few dollars spent on lingerie if it doesn't. I could also lose my husband.”

—
Angel King

 

Sullivan arrived at Reginell's apartment with both a designer evening gown and an attitude. Lawson had convinced her to let Reginell borrow one of the many dresses she had collecting dust in her closet, but that didn't mean Sullivan intended to do it with a smile on her face.

“I don't know why I had to loan her a dress and drive way over here to give it to her,” whined Sullivan.

“Because that's the only way we could get you over here,” revealed Lawson, leading her into Reginell's great room.

Sullivan was surprised to find Angel there, and a spread of vegetables, salsa, chips, cheese, popcorn, and wine as well. “What's going on?”

“We're having a viewing party,” explained Lawson. “Tonight is the
Lose Big
finale. We'll find out if Kina wins the competition.”

Sullivan whirled around. “I'm leaving.”

Angel ushered her back into the fold. “No, you're going to sit your derriere right down here and watch to see if Kina will prevail. There's half a million dollars on the line. Surely, you and your money-hungry tendencies can appreciate the magnitude of that.”

Fuming, Sullivan handed the dress to Reginell and sat down. “Do not return this dress with any grease stains, wine stains, or freak stains!” Sullivan warned her.

Reginell rolled her eyes and pulled the black gown out of the garment bag. “Oh, my, this is beautiful! Thanks, Sully.”

Lawson and Angel moved closer to get a good look at it.

“I love this jeweled neckline,” said Angel. “It's so elegant yet modern.”

Lawson examined the gown's sheer cap sleeves. “Reggie, this dress is perfect for you. You can look sophisticated but still have a little sex appeal.”

Reginell pressed the gown up against her body to gauge if it would fit. “Where did you get this from? Kohl's?”

Sullivan narrowed her eyes. “Kohl's? Did you say
Kohl's?
” Reginell nodded her head. “Reggie, that is a Badgley Mischka gown! They do not sell Badgley Mischka gowns at Kohl's.”

“How was I supposed to know that?” asked Reginell. “I've never even heard of Bradley Mischka, or whatever the name is.”

Sullivan shook her head. “Your hoodness never ceases to amaze me, Reggie. I hope you're able to stifle it long enough not to embarrass Mark at that dinner.”

“Mark told me to be myself and everything will be fine,” boasted Reginell.

“Reggie, please be anybody
but
yourself!” pleaded Sullivan. “Otherwise, Mark will be the laughingstock from here to Virginia.”

“Don't listen to Sullivan,” ordered Angel. “If Mark loves you the way you are, that's all that matters.”

Reginell placed the gown back in the bag. “Thank you.”

“Reginell knows what she's doing,” bragged Lawson. “Trust me when I tell you she knows a thing or two about men. Heck, I've even started taking advice from her.”

Sullivan was baffled. “Why?”

“Because I want to save my marriage,” Lawson disclosed. “If turning up the heat in the bedroom is what it takes, I'm going full throttle! Namon is at home as we speak, setting up for a romantic evening.”

“Namon?” questioned Sullivan. “Honey, don't you think that's taking the family involvement thing a little too far? He's going to need years of therapy after that!”

Lawson laughed. “He's just setting up lights in the backyard. I'm trying to re-create the night Garrett proposed.”

“You mean the night you told him no?” wondered Angel.

“That's the whole point!” said Lawson. “I want to do it over and say yes to him this time—yes to our life together, yes to the vows we made, and yes to a fresh start.”

“What about Simon? Is that a yes to him too?” Reginell wanted to know.

Lawson's joyful mood changed. “We need to fix the problems internally before we start reaching out to outsiders.”

“Simon is not an outsider,” said Reginell.

“We'll deal with Simon another time. Tonight is about Garrett and me reconnecting and getting back some of that spark we've lost, so you ladies will understand if I cut and run as soon as the winner is announced.”

“Of course. Do your thang,” Reginell said, encouraging her. “Or should I say, ‘Do your husband'?”

Sullivan snatched the bowl of popcorn. “So, Miss King, are you and Jordan doing anything you're ashamed to tell us about?”

Angel walked by Sullivan and bopped the top of her head with one of Reginell's decorative sofa pillows. “No, we're keeping it very G-rated. Jordan is a sweetheart. We had coffee this morning, when I got off work. We sat there and talked for three hours. I can't tell you how nice it is to be with a man who doesn't have sex on the brain. It frees us up to talk and get to know one another.”

Sullivan kicked off her stilettos. “So that's it? Coffee? That's the special date he promised you?”

“No, that comes next weekend.”

“I may be in for a surprise of my own this week,” Sullivan revealed.

Reginell poured a glass of wine. “Are you going to try to call that pastor again?”

“He's not just a pastor, Reggie. He's my father,” Sullivan asserted. “I know he is.”

“Unfortunately, he doesn't seem to know it, Sully,” Lawson noted. “Let's not forget that you have no real proof that this is the same man. It could all be circumstantial.”

“You didn't hear his voice change when I mentioned Vera and Savannah, but you're right. I have no proof, but I will. Watch me,” Sullivan vowed.

“Have you talked to Charles about this?” Lawson asked.

“Girl, you know Charles. He wants me to be patient and be led by the Lord.”

“That's good advice,” Angel concurred.

Sullivan shook her head. “I've waited almost thirty years, and that's long enough. Somebody is going to give me some answers one way or another.”

“All right, be quiet!” Lawson directed and turned up the television. “It's starting.”

“We're down to our last two contestants, folks, our biggest losers for this season!” announced the neatly coiffed, tailored suit wearing host. The camera spotlighted Kina and her fellow competitor. “Ladies, tell us how you're feeling going into tonight's finale.”

“I feel great,” answered Kina. “This morning I got up around seven and had breakfast with my son. We prayed together. We went over the scriptures we've been focusing on and the promises that we're believing God for. We've had a lovely day. I'm not worried about the outcome of this competition, because I know God's will shall be done. I'm simply thankful He has allowed me to get this far, meet so many awesome people, and has given me the body I thought was gone forever! I haven't been a size ten since I was seventeen years old. It doesn't matter who takes home the trophy and the money tonight. I've already won.”

“And is there anybody out there in TV land or back home you want to say hello to?” he asked her.

“Shhh. Let's see if she's going to give us a shout-out,” said Lawson.

Kina paused to think. “I would like to say thank you to everyone who's been praying for me and following me on Twitter. Your words kept me encouraged every time I wanted to give up. Thank you all for taking this journey with me.”

Sullivan smirked. “I'm sure she was thinking of all of you when she thanked her thousands of random Twitter followers.”

“I think she's going to win,” Reginell said, making a prediction, as the other contestant droned on with responses to the host's questions. “At least I hope so. I may need her to let me borrow a few bucks.”

“We told you to stop planning the kind of wedding you can't afford,” reproved Lawson.

“It's not even that. I've gotten behind on all my bills. Matter of fact, y'all need to enjoy looking at this fifty-inch television while you can. I may have to pawn it if I don't get some money soon.”

“Reggie, you can't maintain the same kind of lifestyle as a waitress that you had as a stripper,” said Angel. “Look at this expensive apartment and that convertible you drive and all these other amenities you have around here. It's time to face the fact that you may have to downgrade.”

“Not necessarily,” Reginell hinted. “I have options.”

Lawson looked up at her. “Like what?”

“Stay out of my business, Lawson.”

After nearly an hour of filler programming and clips from earlier in the season, the host of
Lose Big
was finally ready to announce the champion.

“The winner of this season's
Lose Big
competition and the winner of five hundred thousand dollars is . . .” He suspended his words to draw out the anticipation and suspense. “Kina Justine Battle!”

The live audience erupted into thunderous applause, and Kina fell to her knees as confetti rained down on her. “God is so good!” she declared. “He made this happen! He answered my prayers! I praise Him! I praise Him! To God be the honor and the glory!”

“She did it! She did it!” screamed Lawson, pumping her fists in the air.

“Oh, my God, I can't believe she won!” exclaimed Angel. “We love you, Kina! Whoo-hoo!”

Reginell hopped up on the couch and pointed at the television. “That's my cousin right there, y'all! Yes! She did the doggone thang!”

Sullivan yawned, unaffected by all the fanfare. “She won. Good for her.”

“You're such a hater, Sullivan,” accused Reginell, stepping down.

“I'm not hating,” insisted Sullivan. “I'm glad she won. She can finally give Kenny the kind of life she always wanted for him, but don't expect the same Kina to return that left here, assuming she bothers to come back at all.”

Lawson rolled her eyes. “Sully, we've been watching Kina on that show for weeks. She's still the same humble, sweet Kina she's always been.”

“That's because she was still broke. Money changes things, and it changes people. Kina just got five hundred thousand dollars richer. It's only now that you're about to see the real Kina come out and play.”