Preacher's Wifey (3 page)

My mother and I sat on the patio overlooking my Olympic-sized pool, and she listened as I recapped the events of the past weekend. She didn't seem fazed at all that my anniversary trip had ended up being a nightmare from hell.

“Allyson, you have to look at this more than one way,” she said as she sipped on merlot. “I know it hurt you to hear what he had to say, but the point is you are still his legal wife. It doesn't matter who he is in love with. You are
Mrs.
Byran Ward. He chose to marry you. Whoever is also pregnant by him is the sidepiece. The sidepieces never mean anything.”

“That would be the case if he was or had ever been married to me for love. Technically, I am just a legal sidepiece. I have his last name. The other woman has his heart.”

I stared into space as that reality settled into my brain. My husband was in love with another woman. And she was pregnant.

“Do you know who she is?”

“I have no idea. But I am certain she is beautiful. Probably successful.”

“Let's not speculate. We need to find out who she is.”

“That is my least concern right now.”

“No offense, but if you intend to keep your man, you need to know who the competition is and what she's about.”

“My contract with him basically states that the only way he can divorce me is if I embarrass him, expose our arrangement, or commit infidelity. None of which I intend to do. So I'm not worrying about
keeping
him per se. Actually, the truth is, I never had him.”

“So you did not think to include that same clause for yourself? Because if this little secret comes out that he has another woman pregnant, it would most definitely embarrass you.”

“Mother, I wasn't thinking about that then. Everything about the deal favors him. After all, he was the one who came up with it, and I was the one who agreed. I'm sure whoever this woman is, if she's in love with him, she won't be saying anything to anybody about him being the father of her child.”

“I still say you need to find out who she is. We need to make her go away.”

“Go away?”

“Yes, go away. Especially if she lives around here.”

“I never even considered that she might live here in Atlanta. Oh my goodness. What if she does? How often does he see her? Is that where he is when he isn't here at home?”

It was too much. The thoughts. The questions. The what-ifs. All. Too. Much.

“Allyson, now is not the time to allow yourself to be frazzled. You are smarter than this. Byran is not the only successful man you have been with. You are accustomed to money and to men catering to you. You seem to be getting soft when it comes to him. First thing you have to do is push your feelings aside and handle this like business, because that's what it is—business. You made a mistake by allowing yourself to fall in love with him.”

“Who said I was in love?” I said, trying desperately to hold back the tears.

“I am an old woman, and I have been around love's circle a time or two in my life. I know you think I am coldhearted, but I was not always this way. I know you are in love because you are crying. You are worried. Women who don't care . . . don't care. Let me ask you a question. Are you thinking about keeping this baby?”

“Excuse me? Of course I'm keeping my baby!”

She held up her hands in defense. “Calm down. It was just a question.”

“No. It was not just a question. How could you ask me that? You act as if there is another choice.”

“There is. An abortion.”

My mother was losing her mind. No. She had lost it.

“Mom, I don't want to continue this conversation,” I said as I got up to leave.

I put my hand on the doorknob to go inside the house, but her next statement stopped me in my tracks.

“If you have the abortion, you'll win his heart.”

I stood staring at the door. She continued.

“This other woman . . . I'm sure she is thinking that by having his baby, she will keep him. Truth is, neither one of you can keep him with a baby. A man who's going to cheat will do so with or without a baby. And usually when a woman is pregnant, be it his wife—or wifey, as you call it—or the sidepiece, he finds a new piece of tail he can run to. Neither of you is fun to him anymore. He has chased and conquered.

“Sweetheart, if you have the abortion, he will see how selfless you are, and he will see the extremes you are willing to go to in order to keep him happy. You will use the same mind game on him that he uses on you. It will confuse him, and he will begin to question if he really even loves this other woman. As for her . . . well, she will get big and out of shape. She will be sick and in pain, while you and Byran continue on with your lives. He will come home more often, because who wants to be around a whining and complaining woman? I have been pregnant, and that is what most women do—whine and complain.”

I gave what she said some thought. My mother had never steered me wrong. She was a genius when it came to men. If it had not been for her, I would have never landed my first athlete. It was because of her, and her long friendship with one of the ladies who attended the church that Byran was the pastor at before going to Cornerstone, that I even met him. She had taught me a lot, and it had gotten me everything I had wanted out of life. Except for one thing. Love. But maybe she was right. Maybe I needed to have an abortion and wait for Byran to
want
me to have his baby.

I turned to face her.

“What if you are wrong? What if I have an abortion and he still feels the same way about her? What if he caters to her and likes being around her while she is pregnant? How am I supposed to feel when he walks out of here to go see her or when she has the baby? What am I supposed to do when she goes into labor to deliver their child? Stay here and wait by the phone and congratulate him on the birth of his child?”

“You are most definitely in love,” she sighed. “Who cares about all of that? This man comes home to you every night unless he is on the road, preaching, right?”

“I thought so. But at some point he has been with her. That's how she got knocked up.”

“Maybe so. But doesn't he take care of you? Pay the bills? Afford you this luxury lifestyle? Allyson, I hate to keep reminding you, but there are a million women who would love to be in your shoes.” She paused and turned to me. “Honey, you just have to trust your mother on this one. Don't make the same mistakes I made. I was once in love with your father. That man took care of me. He made sure I never truly wanted for anything. But when I found out he was cheating on me with multiple women, I left. My friends tried to tell me what a fool I was being, but I did not listen. They tried their best to tell me that all men were going to cheat at some point but to hang on, because one day he would get tired, come home, and stay home. But I wanted him all to myself and was hellbent on it. Now I regret it. Because after we divorced, I struggled to take care of you and me, and I never again had the life that he afforded me.

“And that is why I don't want you to lose your good thing, your good life, because your man can't keep his thing in his pants. Trust me, he will remember that you were the one who stuck by him when times got tough. You were the one who agreed to marry him so he could live
his
dream. Men don't forget things like that. So if you have this abortion, he will again see just how much you are willing to sacrifice for him. He will have no choice but to fall in love with you.”

I pondered what she said.

She had a point. Right?

Why would l give up the beautiful life I had to make a big deal out of Byran's extramarital affairs? Like she said, it was business, anyway. Why would I tie my life down trying to raise a baby he did not want? Even though he would more than likely hire a nanny, chances were the bulk of the responsibility would be on me. He would keep going right along with his life, and I would never be able to go anywhere. I'd be stuck at home with a screaming baby.

My mother interrupted my thoughts.

“And think about how repulsed Byran will be once you start showing. You have a video model's body right now. A baby will bring on stretch marks, sagging boobs, and your thighs and hips will explode like a volcano. Do you really want that? You know how obsessed you can be about your body.”

She had another point.

My body was important to me, and I worked hard to make sure I stayed in shape. From starving myself to long hours in the home gym.

“Okay, I get it. Having a baby right now may not be the best thing.”

“I'm telling you it's not. Listen to an old lady. You will regret it if you don't get rid of this baby.”

Those words again.

“If I am going to do it, I cannot prolong it. I know I will lose the courage. I have strong spiritual convictions about women who have abortions.”

“I had three, and God still loves me.”

“What!” I yelled. “Three? Mom, you have never told me that,” I said, baffled.

“Why would I? It's not exactly something I am proud of. But all three times . . . bad timing. Wrong guys.”

She quickly turned her head to look out across the glistening blue water in the pool. Although she didn't want me to see it, I saw something else glistening. Her eyes. I felt sorry for her in that moment, because who knows what else my mother had not told me? Who knows how many times her heart had been broken?

“Wow. I'm sorry, Mom. I had no idea. I just thought maybe you never wanted any more kids or possibly couldn't have any more kids. I never knew that there would have been four of us.”

She kept her eyes fastened on the water. “Five. I had one miscarriage while on a boating trip with your father. I slipped in the boat and started bleeding within minutes. I was four months pregnant.”

This time I saw a tear slide down her left cheek. I had not seen her cry since my grandmother died a few years back.

“That baby . . . I wanted. We had just found out we were having a boy. Your father was elated to be having a son. If only I had just sat down, as he asked me to. But, no, I wanted to stand while he was jumping the waves.”

She dropped her head, and water rushed from her eyes, as if she was reliving that time all over again. I went and sat in the patio chair next to her and laid my head on her shoulder. I cried too. Her tears were for the baby she had lost, and mine were for the baby I was thinking of killing.

“Things were never really the same with your father after that. He blamed me and never really let me forget it. He was already cheating on me, but that made it worse. You see, I was counting on that son to change him. I had hoped that once he was born, our marriage would go back to being what it once was. Our family would be complete. Our little perfect world would be perfect again. It never happened.”

“So that's why you don't believe in love anymore?”

She paused for several beats. “Love is what you make it. You can love anybody. But you only get one chance to be
in
love. One. You may love others, but it will never be the same.”

“Are you still in love with Daddy?”

“Your dad has moved on with his life. It doesn't matter.”

“You are right, Mom. Dad has moved on with his life. But you never did.”

“Of course I did. How do you think those three abortions came about? I have since loved again, but no one has loved me the way your father did.”

“Evidently, he did not love you. If he had, he would have never let you go.”

“I left him. I let him go. I gave him permission to move on so he could be free. I loved him enough to release him to live the lifestyle he wanted to live. It was not his lack of love for me that led him to cheat. He just had no clue or example as to how to be a faithful husband. He saw his father cheat on his mother with his own eyes, and his mother stayed. She loved the things. She loved their life. And he followed in the steps of his father, not understanding why I was not like his mother. He could never comprehend that I wanted him—not the things. I was in love with him. Not our lifestyle.”

Her tears returned, and the strong, often emotionless woman I had grown to know disappeared right before me.

“I don't know what to say. You've never been this transparent with me.”

“I knew the day would come when I would have to explain some things to you. I have tried to keep you sheltered from the type of pain that comes when love has failed you. In hindsight, I would have shut my mouth just like his mother did, and I would have kept my family together. I would have grown to love him, even if I had to share him.”

“But, Mom, you deserved more.”

“Maybe so, but I ended up with less. I've had one failed relationship after the other, and I have nothing to show for any of them.” She turned to me, prompting me to lift my head from her shoulder. “That is why I wanted you to be smarter. Love is for the birds,” she said, the coldness returning. “If a man is taking care of you, then forget about love. Love will make you do some crazy things, and who wants to keep doing one crazy thing after the other? You will not end up like me—in your sixties, having to thank God that your daughter married up so you will not die destitute.”

“Is that why you pushed me to marry Byran?”

“It had nothing to do with Byran specifically. It could have been Peter, James, or John. The individual person did not matter. I saw it as an opportunity for you to get more out of life than I did. Because at the end of the day, when you have all the things you have, who needs love?”