TOLENE KICKED OFF her red stilettos, strolled to the bar in the family room, and fixed herself a big stiff vodka martini. Al-though it was Wednesday, Juliette had stayed at her dad’s past the weekend as she sometimes did so that Jolene could work late, and Patrick should be bringing her home any minute. Jolene sank down into one of two black-and-white cow-print chairs in front of the fireplace and leaned back. She was so tired. She had worked late every day this week, her only relief a quickie on the office floor with Brian just before she left that evening, and stopping to buy a lottery ticket on the way home.
That sordid episode at the club with Barbara Bentley on Monday morning had left a bad taste in Jolene’s mouth. The woman was such a damn snob. But it wasn’t just Barbara. Everyone in Silver Lake treated her like dirt.
Even when she got pregnant at seventeen and the baby’s father wouldn’t marry her, she hadn’t felt as alone as this. Her snooty family had practically abandoned her back then. They lived on upper Sixteenth Street in Washington, D.C., a black neighborhood so prominent that it was called the “Gold Coast,” and back in those days a pregnant daughter was a huge embarrassment.
Patrick had come along and married her, and even though she eventually lost that baby, together they had built a life worth envying. They had climbed from the depths, with not much more than some clothes and a beat-up Ford, to living in a mini-mansion in Silver Lake, North.
Now she lived alone and Patrick was screwing Pearl Jackson, of all people. Lately, Jolene had been thinking more and more about moving. Why the hell should she stay here when everyone treated her so shabbily? She could make a fresh start somewhere else, maybe Atlanta or even New York City.
The only thing holding her back was that she would have to take Juliette away from her father. Juliette adored her dad, and Jolene really didn’t want to do that to her. The divorce had been hard enough on Juliette. To this day, even almost a year since the separation, Juliette wanted her parents to get back together more than anything. What kid wouldn’t?
But people were so nasty around here. She needed to start thinking about her own needs before she went mad.
She took a sip from her martini glass, closed her eyes, and thought about Brian ravishing her on the floor of her office earlier that evening. She was so conflicted about that man. One minute she couldn’t stand the sight of him and the next she was ready to have an orgasm just looking at him.
She had to stop this behavior. If they ever got caught, she would be ruined at work. And what would Juliette think about her mom screwing the office painter if she ever found out? That would be a terrible example to set for her daughter.
Jolene had always prided herself on being a good mother. No matter how much she screwed up the other parts of her life, she wasn’t going to mess that up. Juliette was her only child, and Jolene wanted her to have the best of everything.
She had become the black sheep in the family when she got pregnant as a teenager. And even though she had eventually married and she and Patrick had a beautiful daughter together, she still wasn’t good enough for her uppity family. Her father the judge, her mom the society maven, and her sister the snobby Spelman College graduate all looked down on her. She had disgraced the family, and even living in the most exclusive black neighborhood in Maryland now didn’t make up for that. Sure, there was a lot of black money in Prince George’s County, but it was new money, as her father had made clear. If people didn’t have the right pedigree, all the money in the world didn’t matter.
When Juliette was born, Jolene swore her daughter would never be exposed to that kind of snobbishness. Money was money, and Jolene didn’t give a damn where it came from.
The one thing she felt she had failed at with Juliette was giving her a stable family life with both her mother and her father living together under the same roof. That was hurting Juliette more than anything. Jolene had noticed that Juliette was developing a hard edge, probably out of bitterness over the divorce, not to mention spending so much time around Lee. Juliette used to be such a sweet child but now she had quite the mouth on her.
Recently Jolene had toyed with the idea of asking Patrick if he wanted to give the marriage another try for Juliette’s sake. Getting back together with Patrick would also help her in the image department. She didn’t give a damn what Pearl thought of her. Who the hell was she? But Barbara Bentley was another matter. She was the doyenne of Silver Lake, and Jolene knew that she had to get back into Barbara’s good graces or she was never going to be accepted around here. Barbara and Patrick had always gotten along well when the four of them got together for dinner. If she and Patrick remarried, Barbara’s bad feelings toward her might change.
The problem was that she didn’t know how Patrick would feel about getting back together now that he had taken up with Pearl. She had no doubt that this thing between them was temporary. Pearl was an overweight hairdresser, and Jolene couldn’t imagine Patrick ever marrying someone like that. Jolene knew that she might have put on a few pounds, but she was thirty-eight years old, not forty-eight, like Pearl. And she had style. Pearl dressed like a shabby matron.
Jolene downed her drink just as the doorbell rang. That would be Patrick bringing Juliette home, she thought. She stood up, placed her glass on the bar, and slipped back into her heels. She walked into the foyer and at the last minute decided to undo the top button of her berry-colored Moschino cardigan. Hell, yeah. Let Patrick see what he was missing. She put on a big smile and opened the door.
Juliette and Patrick stood there talking and laughing. Jolene knew that Juliette blamed her mother for her dad leaving, and at times, Jolene felt a twinge of jealousy at the way Juliette looked at Patrick with such open adoration.
Jolene kissed Juliette on the forehead as she entered. “Hello, darling.”
“Hello, Mother,” Juliette said coolly, barely glancing in Jolene’s direction. It hurt like hell when Juliette treated her this way but she tried to brush it off.
“How was your visit?” Jolene asked.
Juliette shrugged. “It was fine,” she said. She kissed Patrick good-bye on the cheek and brushed past Jolene with her overnight bag.
Juliette was headed to her bedroom and the telephone no doubt, Jolene thought. Jolene wondered if Juliette was giving Pearl as difficult a time as she was giving her own mom. She sure hoped so.
“Pearl fixed us a nice pot roast dinner,” Patrick said from the other side of the threshold.
“Your favorite, how nice.” If he caught the sarcasm in her voice he didn’t show it.
“Lee went to a movie with a friend, and Juliette ran her mouth on the phone while Pearl and I watched a video.”
“Patrick, you spoil Juliette rotten,” Jolene teased. “I hope she finished her homework.”
“They both finished their homework before dinner. Well, I guess I’d better run. If Lee’s back, she’s at the house alone since I just dropped Pearl off at her place. And if she’s not alone ’cause she invited that boy in, I want to be there.”
Jolene waved her hand. “Oh, I’m sure Lee is fine. Why don’t you come in for a minute?”
Patrick hesitated and glanced at his watch. “I really should get back.”
Jolene pulled him in. “For goodness’ sakes, Lee is seventeen years old. Juliette’s only fifteen and I’ve left her here alone for brief periods. I want to talk to you about something important.”
That was a lie. Jolene just wanted to get him into the house. It had been ages since they’d really talked in person, and she missed his presence. Brian was great for sex but he could barely put two intelligent sentences together. And she wanted a chance to feel Patrick out about getting back together.
“I guess I can stay for a quick minute,” he said and followed her into the family room.
Jolene walked to the bar. “Can I get you a drink?” She sensed that he was about to decline as he sat on the black couch across from her cow-print chairs without removing his leather jacket. He looked so uncomfortable. It was hard to believe that he
had once lived here.
“C’mon, Patrick. Don’t be a spoilsport. Just a little?” She held her thumb and forefinger an inch apart and put on her sweetest smile. She wanted him to relax, and when they had been a couple her smiles used to always win him over.
He smiled back at her. “OK, what are you drinking?”
She lifted her glass. “Martini.”
He nodded. “I’ll have the same. But just a little. I’m driving.”
“For God’s sake, Patrick, you only live ten damn blocks away. And take off your jacket.”
He accepted the drink from Jolene and removed his jacket. Jolene was reminded that he was in great shape for a forty-year-old man, as she noted his firm, muscular arms and shoulders. She poured a fresh drink for herself and settled on the couch next to him.
“Looks like you’ve been busy decorating around here,” he said, indicating the chairs.
She smiled. “Do you like it?”
“It’s nice. But what was wrong with the old family room furniture?”
“Just that, it was old.”
He stared at her incredulously. “You just bought it when the house was finished last summer.”
“I know, but I decided it was all wrong for this room. I wanted something more modern.”
Patrick shook his head. “Can we afford it with two mortgages? Yours and mine? Not to mention . . .”
She waved a hand. “We’re fine, Patrick. We always manage to pull through one way or another. Stop worrying about money.”
“Someone’s got to do the worrying, the way you spend it.”
“I’m better than I used to be. I haven’t bought many new clothes in ages.”
“Uh-huh,” he said doubtfully, eyeing her designer outfit. “So, what was so urgent?”
“It’s not exactly urgent. Does it have to be urgent to get you to sit and talk to me for a minute?”
“Nooo. I just thought . . . well . . .” He shrugged and sipped his martini.
“We’re divorced but that doesn’t mean we can’t get along,” she said. “I mean, we’re still raising a daughter together.”
“You’re absolutely right. I actually think we get along better now than we did when we were married. At least when it comes to the last few years of our marriage.”
She smiled and turned toward him so he could get a good look at her legs below her short pink skirt. “I’ve noticed that, too. It’s almost like when we first met and we were just getting to know each other. Remember?”
“How could I forget? You were only seventeen, pregnant by some dude and frightened out of your wits.”
“Until you came along.” She gently brushed the tip of her shoe against his pant leg. “It felt like I had suddenly found someone who understood me and could protect me. I still sometimes feel like you’re the only person who really understands me.”
He shrugged. “We were married for twenty years, Jo. I probably do know you better than anyone else.”
“But it’s more than that. I feel, you know, like I can be myself around you and you won’t judge me. I never felt that way with my folks or anyone else. And I thank you for giving me that.”
He smiled. “My pleasure.”
She took a sip of her drink and he glanced at his watch.
“I know. I know,” Jolene said. “You have to run. I really wish we had more time to talk about what’s been going on with you. How do you like working as a director in county government since your promotion?”
He put his glass down on the coffee table, stood, and put on his leather jacket. “So far, so good. Better than working for Bradford Bentley.”
Jolene cleared her throat and rose with her glass in hand. He would have to bring that up. Was he rubbing Bradford in her face because she’d had an affair with him while they were married? Patrick and Bradford even got to exchanging blows at the housewarming party she had thrown shortly after they moved into this house. But all that happened almost a year ago, and she didn’t want to get into it now. That was the quickest way to an argument.
“Good. I’m glad you’re happy in your new job.”
“Yeah, I am. So how about you, Jo? How’s your job?”
“Oh, you know. Same old, same old.”
“Still kicking butt, huh?”
She laughed. “You know me.”
“Don’t I, though? But let me get going. We’ll talk again soon.”
She touched the lapel on his jacket. “Better yet, Patrick. Why don’t you stay for dinner when you pick Juliette up on Friday for the weekend? She would love that.”
He shook his head. “I promised Pearl I’d go shopping with her Friday after work. She wants to get a dress for the party Saturday night at that new house up on the hill.”
Jolene rolled her eyes. Pearl, Pearl, Pearl. She was sick of hearing that name. “Oh, that.”
“You’re not going?” Patrick asked with surprise.
“I was invited but, no, I don’t think so.”
“Any particular reason? There was a time when you would never have passed up a big party like that.”
Yeah, plenty of reasons, she thought. Starting with the fact that everyone in Silver Lake now despised her. “It’s only a party. It’s not that big a deal. No one even knows who lives there, and I have other plans.”
“Uh-huh.”
She was lying and Patrick knew it. The only plans she ever had on a Saturday night were to check her lottery tickets. He didn’t know why she was lying, but she could see him trying to figure out why she wasn’t going to a big party. Time to change the subject.
“So how about next Friday, then?” she asked.
“You mean for dinner here? I’ll have to think about that. I want to see what Pearl has planned.”
Dammit. She was going to have to slap him if he uttered that name again. “Oh, just this once. Juliette still blames me for our divorce, and if she saw us getting along better it would go a long way toward helping me patch things up with her.”
“I’ll have to let you know.”
He said it with such finality that Jolene decided to drop it. Fine, she thought. Forget the party, forget Patrick, forget every fucking thing. She didn’t need any of it.
She shut the door behind him and drained her glass. That had been a total failure, just like her life. She walked back into the family room and reached for the martini shaker. She was planning to pour herself another drink, but she stopped suddenly and stared at her glass. Not only was she turning into a fat pig, she was also becoming a lush. No wonder Patrick preferred Pearl to her.
What a fucking rotten life. “God!” She lifted the glass up high over her head and hurled it into the fireplace.
BARBARA WATCHED NOAH from across the table at Georgia Brown’s, a trendy restaurant in the heart of downtown Washington, D.C., as he explained the housing market in northern Virginia to Bernice. They were eating crab cake and roasted chicken, and Noah had turned his smile on full blast for Bernice. That adorable brown face could be awfully hard to resist, and he was obviously having an effect on Bernice given how she kept leaning forward in her low-cut animal-print blouse and exposing her double-D breast implants.
She had never seen Noah work the charm quite like this, Barbara thought as she watched Noah flirt with Bernice. He had never flirted with her, and for a moment Barbara found herself wondering why not. She and Bernice were about the same age, but Noah was always all business with her.
“From what Barbara has told me about you,” Noah said, “I think Northern Virginia is ideal. It has some really nice neighborhoods and it’s not all that far from D.C. I see you somewhere with a lot of class. Maybe Great Falls.”
Barbara smiled. By the time Noah was finished with Bernice she would be ready to buy ten houses.
“Yes, well, as long as it’s far away from Prince George’s County and my ex,” Bernice said. “Did Barbara tell you I was getting a divorce, Noah?” She leaned so close to Noah that Barbara worried she would topple into his khaki-clad lap.
Noah smiled at the obvious come-on. “Yes, she did. Sorry to hear that.”
“Sorry? Don’t be sorry, baby,” Bernice cooed. “I’m single again and loving it.”
Barbara had been surprised by the change in Bernice’s style of dress. When she was with Bernard, conservative suits were her signature attire. Now she wore short tight skirts and low-cut tops. Talk about being liberated.
“You look fantastic,” Barbara said, in an attempt to change the subject. Bernice was getting a bit too brazen. Not to mention that the two of them were acting like she wasn’t even sitting at the table.
“And I feel good,” Bernice added. “How old do you think I am, Noah?”
Noah cleared his throat and laughed. “Oh, no. You’re not getting me to go there.”
Bernice beckoned with her finger. “Come on, baby. Guess how old I am.”
Barbara twisted her napkin in her lap. Noah was obviously on the spot. Bernice was well put together but she looked every bit her fifty-something years. If Noah said anything to offend her, they could lose a client.
“He knows how old you are,” Barbara interrupted. “He saw the papers I had you fill out.” Noah hadn’t seen a thing and even if he had, Barbara suspected that he would hardly remember Bernice’s age. But she didn’t want this discussion of age to move one inch further. Noah managed to slip a thank-you wink to Barbara during the split second when Bernice wasn’t looking at him.
“Uh, yes,” Noah said. “Now that I think about it I do remember seeing something. You definitely don’t look your age.”
Bernice smiled brightly at him, and Barbara sighed with relief. “So, um, you’re looking for something just for yourself, then,” Barbara said. “Three to four bedrooms, fireplace . . .”
“Fireplace in the bedroom,” Bernice added, her eyes glued to Noah.
“Fireplace in the bedroom,” Barbara repeated as she took notes. She looked back up to see Bernice’s eyes boring down into Noah. Barbara was really getting annoyed. She was tempted to remind Bernice that Noah was a Realtor, not a gigolo.
“Two- or three-car garage, Bernice?” she asked, trying to hold back the edge in her voice.
Can't Get Enough Page 5