My Mans Best Friend (9781622860241) (15 page)

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Authors: Tresser Henderson

BOOK: My Mans Best Friend (9781622860241)
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Daddy turned and looked at Mother saying, “Frances cheated on me numerous times. Emory is a product of her adulterous behavior in our marriage.”
“What marriage?” Mama said acrimoniously. “You
really
think what we had was actually a real marriage?”
“I married you because I loved you, Frances,” Daddy said sincerely.
“Well, too bad I never loved you,” she threw back cruelly.
I went to Daddy and embraced him. I could feel his tears drip on me with my own, wetting his shirt.
“I love you, Daddy.”
“I'm so glad you girls have turned out as well as you have and have grown into gorgeous, resilient young women. Today I take a stand for you, Emory, and myself. I'm leaving Frances and starting a new life with you all. Frances is going to have to continue to live with the demons that have haunted her all these years without me there to help her,” he said, looking over at Frances whose fangs were no longer visible. She looked like she felt bad for once.
In that moment, I felt sorry for her because she didn't have a Joseph any longer. All she had was herself, and I thank God for blessing me with a man who stepped up and called me his own.
Daddy grabbed my shoulder and kissed me on the forehead.
“I love you, Kea. As long as I'm granted breath in my body, I'm going to continue to love you and Emory because I'm your father.”
“I love you too, Daddy.”
“Now let's get out of here,” he said moving toward the door.
“You'll be back,” Mother yelled, but Daddy didn't respond.
“And Kea,” she called. I turned to look at the woman who birthed me, thinking this may be the last time I would see her for a while.
She smiled cruelly and said, “Don't you want to know who your
real
daddy is?”
Zacariah
I knew this was underhanded, but I didn't care. I had to find a way to get Kea back, and this was the only way I could think of for that to happen. I searched high and low trying to find some nasty skeleton in the closet that would crush her, but I couldn't find anything on her. This girl was really Ms. Goody Two-shoes.
I knocked at the door. It took a minute for someone to finally answer.
“Can I help you?” the woman asked, opening the door.
“Yes. My name is Carolyn,” I answered, intentionally giving her a false name. “I'm looking for Kea.”
“She doesn't live here,” she said unconcerned.
I pulled out a piece of paper with the address written on it. “This was the last known address I had for Kea. I went to school with her. I got back into town last night and was hoping I could catch up with her here.”
“Well, she doesn't live here,” came the frigid answer.
“Do you know where I can find her?”
“Come in and I'll get you her new address,” she said, motioning me to enter.
I walked in and was amazed at how spectacular this house was. A huge foyer, crystal chandelier, and spiral mahogany staircase greeted my eyes. This house was amazing. I hoped to have something just like this one day.
Kea's mother walked over to a cherry oak desk reaching in the drawer and pulled out an address book. She wrote down the information on a slip of paper and brought it to me.
“Here it is,” she said handing it to me.
“Thank you so much, and might I add your home is magnificent.”
“Thank you.”
“You and Kea's father have done an excellent job restoring this place.”
“How do you know we've restored it, and how do you know if her father and I are together?” she asked distrustfully.
“I can tell by its architectural features and your style of dress that you are responsible for this fantastic dé-cor. And to answer your second question, I saw a family portrait sitting on the table in the foyer. I figured it had to be your husband and Kea's father.”
She smiled nodding her head but not too hard, still eyeing me suspiciously.
“Who are you really?” she asked crossing her arms.
“I said I was a friend—”
“Cut the crap. I know a liar when I see one. What's your purpose for coming over here, and what's your real name?”
I started to panic. Pulling out my Zacariah confidence I said, “Look, Mrs. Fields, my name is Zacariah.”
“Go on.”
“And I'm not looking for Kea. I know where she may be and that's with my man.”
“You mean the wretched Jaquon.”
“Hell, no. I'm talking about Derrick,” I said frowning.
“So Kea did meet someone else new,” she said smirking. “It sounded like she was hinting around about that at her sister's wedding.”
“Yeah. She stole my man.”
“Are you and this Derrick married,” she said looking at my ring finger.
“No, but—”
“So how did she steal him away from you if you didn't even have legitimate papers linking you and Derrick together in holy matrimony?” she asked boldly.
“Papers or not, he's my man.”
“So why are you knocking on my door, child?”
“Call me cold. Call me calculating, but I heard through the grapevine that you and Kea do not get along.”
“This's true,” she nodded.
“And I heard about what she did to you at your daughter Emory's wedding.”
She frowned, not saying anything.
“If I'm a good judge of character, like I think I am, I know you are not the type of woman who lets anyone get the best of her,” I said.
“This is true.”
“I think this goes for your daughter also.”
“Go on,” she said.
“Your daughter slept with my man. I caught the two of them in bed together, and I was devastated.”
“Sorry to hear that.”
“We got into an altercation, and ever since then ...”
“You want to get back at my daughter, and you want to use me to do it.”
“Yes,” I said.
“What makes you think I need you to get back at my own daughter?” Mrs. Fields asked finally sitting down on the plush white sofa. She didn't bother to offer me a seat so I continued to stand.
“I know you don't need me. I was hoping you would help me. You can get satisfaction in knowing I will do what I need to do to make her pay.”
“You have completely lost your mind,” she said wearing a mirthless grin.
“Yes, I have. I will not rest until I get your daughter back. You may want to protect her, but I don't get that vibe from you, Mrs. Fields. This is why I came to you.”
“You do know you are asking me to take revenge out on my own daughter?”
“Yes, ma'am.”
“This is bold of you to think I would.”
“Again, I was hoping.”
Mrs. Fields stood looking me up and down with her hand on her chin. Perhaps only a minute or two passed, but it felt like an eternity.
“What do you want to know?”
“Anything incriminating.”
Zacariah
I only had to knock twice when this elderly man looking like he was damn near eighty answered the door. His appearance took me back for a minute because he was hunched over with a receding hairline meeting the patches of thin gray hair that still grew upon his head. He walked with a cane and looked like he couldn't stand straight up to save his life. It was probably all that excess weight he had around his belly.
“Can I help you?” his crackling voice greeted me, taking me aback.
“Yes. I'm here to see Mr. Hanks. Is he here?”
“You're looking at him,” he said gazing at me through wrinkles but had the most alluring smoky-gray eyes.
“Hi. We haven't met, but I need to speak to you, if you don't mind.”
“About what? I don't know you.”
“I know, but it's very important. Can I come in please?”
He looked me up and down making me feel a little uneasy since Mrs. Fields let me know a little bit about his background.
“I only have a few minutes, and then you have to leave. My lunch will be here in a minute.”
“Your lunch?”
“Yes. Meals on Wheels. I hope they have meat loaf with mash potatoes today.”
“Sounds good,” I said walking in and closing the door behind me. I slowly walked behind the elderly man noticing his place needed a good cleaning. By the looks of him, I knew he was not able to do this himself. Old drapes hung from the half windows that looked like they hadn't been cleaned in years. Cobwebs hung from corners in the ceiling.
“Have a seat, dear,” he said sitting down in his recliner. “So tell me why you are here.”
“I'm here to talk about your daughter.”
“Which one?” He looked over at the bookcase filled with many pictures of children.
“How many do you have, if you don't mind me asking?”
“I have nine daughters that I know of and eight sons.”
“You have a really big family,” I said thinking,
What woman in her right mind would have any children by this man? Seventeen kids by numerous women, and he could have more. How crazy is this?
“Yeah, I got around in my day,” he said coughing. It was hard to get used to his cough. Every time he did it, I jumped, unable to brace myself from his outburst.
It looked like his wild living took a heavy toll on this man. Trying to feed into his ego I asked, “How old are you to have these many children, because you don't look a day over fifty-five.”
“Now, come on, child. I may be old, but I'm not senile,” he said chuckling. “Time has been hard on me.”
“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—”
“You don't have to apologize. I'm a little happy to hear a kind compliment now and then. I don't hear too many anymore.”
Sarcastically I thought,
I wonder why
.
“So you said you are here to speak to me about my daughter. Which one are you referring to?”
“A girl who was born to Frances Fields.”
His facial expression instantly changed from a smile to a frown. He lowered his head and rubbed his wrinkled hands together.
“I haven't heard that name in a long time. She ... she ... She hates me, and she has every right to.”
I didn't know what to say so I just listened.
“Miss, I have done some horrible things in my day. When I say horrible, I feel like the Lord himself shouldn't forgive me for some of the sins I committed. I'm a changed man now and have repented, but I have to wonder if I'm paying for all my sins now being old and alone.”
I still said nothing, listening intently and hoping this man would give me something more to work with.
“Frances was pregnant with my daughter. I lied to her mother and never once claimed the baby as my own. To this day, I don't know her name or even what she looks like. Frances hasn't had anything to do with me since the day she left, but I can't blame her. I hurt that girl something terrible and regret the things I did to her,” he said starting to weep and cough at the same time.
“I hope one day I'll be able to apologize to Frances. I also hope the day will come when I get to meet the daughter we created. Honestly, I would love to see all my children. I slept with so many women, using them for what I could get from them, and then leaving them to raise these kids on their own. I never looked back because I only cared about myself. Now look at me. I'm old, decrepit, and sad. Nobody cares about me.”
“You have to have someone,” I said, trying to make him feel better but not really caring.
“There's one person who sees after me every now and then.”
“See? You have someone.”
“But I should have my children visiting me,” he said wiping the tears away with the back of his hands. “Just look at them,” he said pointing to the many pictures. “Some of the mothers were nice enough to keep in touch and send me pictures of my kids. I put them up there because this way, I get to see them every day. Take a look at them. They are some beautiful kids.”
I got up and walked over to the shelves filled with pictures of smiling children. Some of the photos were really old and some were more recent. Each child looked as though nothing but happiness filled them. I scanned the photos until I came across one that reminded me of someone I knew. It was a young boy holding a basketball. I picked up the black-rimmed frame and asked him who he was.
“That's my boy. He used to play basketball in high school. His mother and I had a thing going on until I left her when she became pregnant with him. I have to say she was one of the ones who kept in touch, letting me know how he was doing. She sent me pictures every year. That one was from his senior year. I guess after that you can't make your grown son take photos because I haven't received one since.”
“Do you talk to him or know where he lives?”
“He's doing well for himself.”
“And that's all you know about him?”
“I was told he was getting married at one time, but his mother didn't approve. If she didn't think the marriage was going to work, it wasn't. But I haven't heard from his mother in quite sometime, so I'm not sure if he's married or not.”
After speaking to Mr. Hanks a few minutes more, slipping the picture of the young boy into my purse, I left. The knock at the door gave me the opportunity to take the picture without him noticing. Lucky for me his food arrived right on time.
Entering the parking lot, I saw Kea pull up parking right next to me. I peered at her and watched her get out of her car. She looked a bit upset.
“What's wrong, Kea? Did somebody pee in your Kool-Aid?”
“What the hell are you doing here, Zacariah?” she said looking angry.
“Is there trouble in paradise?” I asked.
“Paradise is lovely with Derrick. I mean, Jaquon,” she said smirking.
“Speaking of Jaquon, can you tell him I came by looking for him? I needed to talk to him about something,” I said playing off why I was here. Kea knew what that meant, and I loved seeing the concerned look on her face.
I unlocked my car doors to get in and said, “It's so good to see you again, Kea.”
“And look, I don't have to smack you in your face again. We can get along,” she said smugly.
“Oh, I haven't forgotten about you putting your hands on me. You'll be seeing me again. I guarantee it.”
“Aw, damn. Just when I thought I wouldn't have to see your face again,” she came back.
I couldn't wait for the day when I was going to permanently wipe that smirk off of Kea's face. And as luck has it, I think I found the information I needed to tear her world apart.

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