by Angela Henry
Allegra finally spoke up and explained what had happened that morning, conveniently leaving out being picked up for trespassing the day before. When she told Noelle about having to go down to the police station to make a statement, Noelle looked a little worried, but I figured it had more do with negative publicity for Hollywood Vibe than concern for my sister.
“Can I ride to the station with you guys? I told my cab to go. I should probably be there, too,” said Noelle.
“Sure, but it’ll be a tight fit with all of us in my car,” Carl said, looking at me for some reason. I’m no skinny Minnie, but surely he didn’t think I’d be a danger to his car’s shocks. I knew I was being overly sensitive, but why was I feeling like he didn’t want me around?
“No problem. My car’s here. I’ll drive myself and meet you guys there.” I watched as they all left and tried not to blow my top when I looked out the window and saw Allegra give Carl a seductive smile as he held the car door open for her. Flirting was as natural as breathing to my sister, but I didn’t appreciate her doing it with my boyfriend.
I was pulling the back door shut when I heard a shrill chirping sound from inside my purse. It took me a second to realize what it was. It was my cell phone.
“Hello.”
“Kendra, it’s me,” said small voice I barely recognized as my best friend’s. “Lynette?”
“Are you busy? Can you come over here, please?” I heard what sounded like sniveling.
“What’s wrong? Is it one of the kids?”
“No, they’re fine. I just...I just really need to talk to someone,” she said dissolving into tears. Between her and my sister I was going to drown in a sea of tears.
Lynette, honey, I’m on my way someplace important, but I’ll be by just a soon as I—”
“The wedding’s off, Kendra! I know you really didn’t want to wear that dress anyway. So, now you don’t have to.”
“What happened?” I asked, but I was answered by the sound of the dial tone bleeping in my ear. I couldn’t believe she’d hung up on me. Damn! Why did everyone’s problems have to hit on the same day?
Figuring Allegra and Mama would be tied up with giving their statements, and hoping 1 wouldn’t be missed for a while, I hopped in my little blue Nova and headed over to Lynette’s.
Lynette and her kids lived with her mother Justine in a brick tri-level on Pickett Avenue. Six years ago, after catching her husband Lamont in bed with their babysitter, Lynette had moved back home and filed for divorce. Living with her mother was supposed to be temporary. But Justine usually found one reason or another to discourage Lynette from moving out. Free childcare was the biggest reason Lynette had stayed at her mother’s. Justine worked part-time and was able to take care of her grandkids while Lynette worked. The arrangement kept her from having to entrust her children to the care of strangers. I didn’t blame her. After all, her last babysitter had fucked her husband.
I parked in front of the house and knocked on the door. Lynette answered it wearing a ratty-looking terry-cloth bathrobe. She’d recently taken out the braids she’d worn for the past two years and was wearing her long hair pulled into a fat braid that hung down her back. Thick gym socks were on her feet. She blew her nose on a wadded-up tissue and stepped aside to let me in.
“Now, what’s all this about the wedding being off? Did you and Greg get into an argument?” I asked, looking around. No one else appeared to be home except Justine’s terrier Coco who spun around in circles at my feet for attention. I bent down and stroked her back.
“Where’s everyone at?”
“Ma’s at work and the kids went to King’s Island with the church youth group,” she said, sinking down on the couch.
“Okay. So tell me what happened.” I sat down next to her.
“Nothing happened,” she said shrugging, “I just can’t go through with it, that’s all.”
“Why?” I’d reached my tears-and-drama quota for the day with Allegra and had little sympathy left.
“Because I’m no good at marriage, that’s why. Look what happened to my first marriage.”
“Is this about what your mother said at the shower? She was just trying to be funny.”
“No, she wasn’t, Kendra. She was serious and she’s right. I don’t know if Greg will be any happier with me than Lamont was.” She dabbed at the tears than had started to flow down her face again.
“Lynette, you and Lamont were teenagers when you ran off and got married. You were just kids. What the hell did the two of you know about being married?”
“There was more wrong with our marriage than us just being young,” she said, looking uncomfortable. I waited for her to elaborate but she just blew her nose. I looked at my watch. Allegra, Carl, Mama and Noelle were probably at the station by now and wondering where the hell I was. I felt bad for my friend but I didn’t have time for this.
“Meaning what?” I asked. I immediately regretted sounding so impatient when Lynette jumped up suddenly and glared at me.
“Excuse me if my problems are bothering you. I can tell you don’t really want to be here so why don’t you just leave!”
“Look! I’m sorry, Lynette. You asked me to come over and I did. But now you’re talking in circles. Just sit down and tell me what the hell is going on.”
“All right,” she said, plopping back down on thecouch. “Sex, Kendra! The problem is sex!”
Uh-oh. I looked at her dubiously. “What about sex?” I asked. Did I really want to know about this? It didn’t appear that I had a choice.
“Well, you know I’d never been with anyone before I married Lamont, right?” “Yeah,” I said, nodding for her to continue.
“I couldn’t wait for our wedding night. I thought it would be like something out of a dream.”
“And it wasn’t,” I said. I couldn’t really blame Lynette for thinking her first time was going to be a multi-orgasmic delight. We’d both bought into that heaving-bosom-throbbing-manhood-romance-novel crap as teenagers. But Lynette had never told me that her wedding night had been anything but wonderful.
“It was terrible. I mean, you can’t expect a teenage boy to be a red-hot lover but, damn. He was pitiful, Kendra. It hurt. He had no rhythm, and two minutes into it he’d start moaning and screaming like a girl and sweating like a pig. I had to fake these loud-ass dramatic orgasms just to get him to stop. Otherwise, he could go on forever. It was worse than watching paint dry. And in the five years we were married, it never got any better.”
I’d never gotten to know Lynette’s ex-husband Lamont Gaines very well, but as I envisioned his six-foot-four, two-hundred-and-forty-pound butt moaning and screaming like a porn star en route to the money shot, I lost it and laughed so hard my stomach ached.
“I’m glad you think my pain is so funny,” she said, but I saw her own lips twitching and didn’t feel so bad.
“The night I caught him with the babysitter I knew what was up before I even unlocked the door. I could hear his ass all the way down the hall.” We were both laughing now.
“What happened after you caught him?”
“He had the nerve to tell me it was all my fault ‘cause I wasn’t satisfying his needs. But, hell, there was only so much I could stand. I would make up any excuse not to have to be with him. It’s a wonder I managed to get pregnant once, let alone twice.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about any of this before?”
“I was too embarrassed. I just wanted to forget about it.” I guess I couldn’t blame her for that. “Okay, I get it. Lamont was a piss-poor lover. What’s that have to do with Greg?”
“There hasn’t been anyone since Lamont, Kendra.” It was a moment before it dawned on me what she was saying.
“You mean you and Greg haven’t—” I began incredulously.
“Made love. No. We’ve never been together.” I looked closely at her to see if she was kidding, but she was dead serious.
“Wow! You’ve been together for two years. I just assumed you
two had been getting busy all this time. What’s the problem?”
“It’s not a lack of desire. I want Greg. I just keep thinking about how it was with Lamont. I feel so inexperienced. With Lamont, all I had to do was lie there with my legs open. It was all about him. I could have been a hole in the mattress for all he cared. I’ve never even had an orgasm, and I’m afraid Greg will be disappointed and be sorry he married me,” she said in a small voice.
“You haven’t told Greg about any of this?”
“No. When we first met I lied and told him I didn’t believe in premarital sex. He wasn’t happy at first, believe me. I think he thought he could change my mind. We almost broke up a couple of times. But after a while he got used to taking a lot of cold showers.”
“Lynette, you really need to be discussing this with Greg. He’s crazy about you, girl. I’m sure he’ll understand. He’s a great guy and—”
“I know he’s great, Kendra. You don’t need to tell me that. I’m just trying to save him from being disappointed.”
“He’s not going to be disappointed, Lynette. The man has waited two years for you. Doesn’t that tell you something?” Lynette gave me a strange look and even though she didn’t disagree, she didn’t look quite convinced, either.
“How did life get so complicated?” she asked, getting up and tossing her soggy tissues in the wicker wastebasket by the TV. I watched as she picked up a framed photo from a group of pictures sitting on top of the TV. The picture was of the two of us as Girl Scouts taken when we were twelve. We were in our uniforms and had just gotten back from selling Girl Scout cookies when Justine decided she needed to immortalize the moment. The picture showed two slightly chubby, sulky-looking preteen girls whose chocolate-smeared lips and crumb-covered sashes bore testament to the fact that we’d eaten more cookies than we’d sold. Clearly, Justine had been trying to teach us a lesson.
“Remember those Girl Scout camping trips we used to go on and all the fun we used to have?” she asked, eyes gleaming. I took a quick peek at the clock on the wall before answering. I really needed to get going.
“Of course I remember,” I said with more enthusiasm than I felt. I’m not the outdoors type and could remember nothing at all fun about sleeping in a tent, being eaten up by insects, and dining on burnt-up hot dogs and lukewarm baked beans. The s’mores were nice, though.
“That was back when life was uncomplicated. We didn’t really have anything to worry about, did we, Kendra?” She was looking sad again and I decided to excuse myself from her pity party or I could easily be there all afternoon.
I got up and gave her a big hug. “Why don’t you come over tonight and we can order pizza and have a bottle of wine?”
She shrugged and smiled in half-hearted agreement. I gave her hand one last squeeze and told her I needed to get going. When I got to the door, I looked back and saw she was still staring at the Girl Scout picture with a funny look on her face.
When I finally arrived at the Willow police station about ten minutes later, Mama was sitting on a bench in the lobby while Noelle was about twenty feet away in a corner talking on her cell phone. When she spotted me, Mama purposefully looked at her watch and frowned.
“Where have you been? We got here almost forty-five minutes ago.”
“Sorry. Something came up. Have you given your statement yet? Where’s Allie?” I asked, looking around.
“She and Carl have been in with that Detective Harmon for about a half an hour. I already gave my statement. It only took five minutes. Now, what came up?” I was toying with telling her my car wouldn’t start but didn’t feel like lying.
“Lynette was—”
“Lynette? What could possibly be going on with Lynette that’s more important than you being here for your sister?” Clearly nothing short of death and dismemberment was going to be a good enough excuse for me being so late.
I started to say something when I spotted Carl and a sullen-looking Allegra, who was dressed in a big baggy gray sweat suit emblazoned with the letters WPD, which I assumed stood for Willow Police Department, and flip-flops. Noelle abruptly ended her call when she spotted them and we all rushed up to them.
“Where are her clothes? Has she been arrested?” Mama asked Carl in a shrill voice.
“No. But there was some blood on the bottoms of her shoes so they took them and her clothes for blood analysis,” said Carl. He had a comforting hand on Allegra’s lower back. I knew she was upset but I was bothered by it all the same.
“They said I can’t leave town and I need to make myself available for further questioning,” Allegra said. She wasn’t crying anymore but looked like she was in shock.
“I’m sure that’s just routine, right?” asked Noelle.
“They just want to cover all the bases,” Carl told us. Mama and Noelle visibly relaxed but Allegra was staring at me.
“Where the hell were you? I thought you were going to follow us. We were here a good fifteen minutes before that detective called us in. Why weren’t you here?” Now everyone was looking at me. I couldn’t lie cause I’d already told Mama where I’d been. So once again I started to explain. And once again I didn’t get far.
“I find a dead body and have to come down here and get grilled by the police and have my good Dior suit and Gucci pumps taken into evidence. I could lose my job and your ass is more worried about some petty-ass problem Lynette is having? I’m your sister, Kendra. You should have been here for me!” She turned and buried her face into Carl’s chest and started sobbing.
I chalked it up to frustration over everything that had happened that day and struggled not to take it personally. But when I put a comforting hand on her shoulder she jerked away from me. Mama was nodding her head in agreement, and neither Carl nor Noelle would look me in the eye. Great.
“I’m sorry, Allie. I didn’t realize it would take so long,” I said meekly. She continued to ignore me.
“Well, there’s no need to be worried about your job just yet,” Noelle said, brushing past me to stand next to Allegra.”I just got off the phone with Bob McLean, the executive producer, and he’s consulting with Hollywood Vibe’s lawyers. He didn’t seem to think this was any reason for you to be let go.”
“Then why is he consulting the lawyers?” Allegra asked. She’d turned to face Noelle and I couldn’t help but notice that her big sobbing routine had produced no tears whatsoever. The big faker! Noelle didn’t seem to have an answer for her and turned a shade of red almost as bright as her hair.
“Oh, forget it! I just want to get out of here before anyone sees me looking like this.”
We all watched my sweat-suit-clad sister as she rushed across the lobby toward the police station’s revolving doors. Her flip-flops slapped loudly against the linoleum floor. We started to follow her, but everyone froze when an older woman, as short and squat as a fire hydrant, wearing a black suit and black-and-white spectator pumps, came charging into the lobby. Her hair was pulled back severely into a bun that was several shades darker than the rest of her hair and screamed hairpiece. When she spotted my sister, her already sour expression turned to sheer rage and she pointed a stubby finger at Allegra.
“You little bitch! You killed Vivianne! I know you did it!” shouted the woman I now recognized as Vivianne DeArmond’s assistant, Harriet Randall. She flew at Allegra and started swinging her big black patent-leather purse, catching my sister upside the head and knocking her to the floor.
“Why couldn’t you just leave her alone!” Harriet screamed and started to raise her purse again to hit my sister who was cowering on the floor in a fetal position with her arms raised over her head to shield herself.
Mama, Carl, Noelle and I all ran to Allegra’s aid. But it was my almost-seventy-three-year-old grandmother, who I never realized could move so fast, who got to Harriet first and yelled, “Now, hold up, heifer!” and tackled the woman to the ground.
Mama and Harriet were rolling around on the floor slapping at each other. Harriet had Ma
ma by her throat, but Mama grabbed Harriet’s hairpiece and gave it good tug. It came off in her hand and she tossed it over her shoulder where it landed at Noelle’s feet. She jumped back like it was a rat infected with cooties and stepped on my foot, causing me to yelp in pain and my eyes to water. Harriet wasn’t at all fazed about her altered hairdo and hadn’t forgotten her main target. She kept trying to crawl over to pummel Allegra some more, but Mama kept pulling her out of reach. I ran over and Carl and
I tried to pry the two brawling women apart. Carl had Harriet under the armpits trying to pull her to her feet and I had Mama’s arm. Mama was still spitting mad but allowed me to help her to her feet. But Harriet fought Carl off like he was a mugger and slugged him hard in the stomach, causing him to double over. She’d raised her lethal purse again to bash him on the head when some police officers, who must have been on a doughnut break, finally ran over to subdue her. They had wrestle her to the ground.
“She’s crazy!” yelled Allegra, who had gotten up off the floor and was cowering behind Noelle.
“Murderer!” screamed Harriet, practically foaming at the mouth.
“I didn’t kill her. We had an appointment for an interview! Why would I kill her?” Allegra screamed back.
“Liar! I handled all of Vivianne’s publicity. If she had granted you an interview, it would have been through me!”
The officers finally slapped cuffs on Harriet and dragged the enraged old broad to her feet. “Get her out of here,” said one of the officers, gesturing towards Allegra.
Mama grabbed Allegra and started to march out of the police station with me, Noelle and Carl in tow. When we reached the revolving doors we were met by a barrage of flashbulbs going off in our faces as a dozen or so reporters confronted us, hurling questions at Allegra.
“Were you the one who found Vivianne DeArmond’s body?” asked a sweaty fat guy with in a too-tight suit.
“Is it true that she was stabbed?” asked Channel Four’s star news reporter, Tracy Ripkey, whose big blond bouffant do looked a little dented as she tried to squeeze through the crowd to stick her microphone in Allegra’s face.