Diary of a Mad First Lady

by Dishan Washington

  I laughed nervously. “Whatever. I don’t have time for games. I don’t know who you are, what you’re talking about, or what you want with me.” I started moving away from him.

  “I wouldn’t walk out of that door if I were you. Unless you want me to do to you what you did to my sister.”

  I stopped dead in my tracks. It couldn’t be.

  “You heard me. My sister. You want to know who I am?” the man asked as I heard footsteps coming toward me. “I’m Solomon Andrews, the brother of Twylah Andrews. Does the name ring a bell?”

  I whirled around and glared at him. “What do you want?” I shouted in the lowest voice I could muster.

  “I want to know why you killed my sister,” he said, standing so close to my face I could smell his morning’s breakfast.

  “Your sister committed suicide. Everyone knows that.” My voice was practically quivering and my stomach was beginning to be upset. Could he know the truth?

  “No, I believe you killed her, and I’m determined to prove it. Now, if you try to get in my way, you and I are going to have a much bigger problem.”

  “Look, Mr. Andrews, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I did not kill your sister! Am I making myself clear?”

  I was as scared of him as a cat is of a dog, but so angry I could have killed him, too. What evidence did he have, and what gave him the gall to threaten me with it?

  “Hmph. It’s sad that you’re forcing me to go to this level with you, but before it’s over, you will wish that you’d never crawled out of your slimy hole. But I will tell you this: If you try to do anything stupid, there will be another hole with your name on it. And it’s right out there in Mount Zion’s graveyard.”

  I refused to let a single tear roll down my face for fear of showing a sign of weakness.

  One of the church deacons walked up to me. “Is everything all right over here?” he said, looking back and forth between me and Solomon.

  I wanted so badly to scream no, but I said, “Yes, everything is fine.” I shifted nervously on my feet, hoping that the answer would satisfy the deacon.

  Hesitantly, he walked away, and in the same fashion, I turned around to face the man who had managed to make me sick in all but ten minutes. How I wished this were a dream.

  “Solomon—”

  He interrupted. “This is not a game. This is not a dream. I’m really here to make your life a living hell, as you’ve so pointedly done for others. The same way you killed my sister and watched the life drain out of her body, I’m not going to rest until the same is done to you.”

  This time, the tear escaped against my doing. How had the day turned for the worse?

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Michelle

  If the Lord didn’t help me, I just knew I would surely fall. My grandmother used to say that all the time, but it wasn’t until today that I realized just what she’d meant.

  Today was our pastor’s anniversary celebration, and I can honestly say that if I could have made myself melt, I would have poured myself down a drain. Even though I was no veteran at this, I was accustomed to the day being about Darvin, and people looking at me, trying to figure out how to acknowledge me so I wouldn’t feel out of place. But I was not used to the stunt pulled by Dawn Carlton.

  The tramp had come up into my domain and had taken over. She, in a matter of minutes, had everyone in Mount Zion dancing to the beat of her music—including Darvin.

  Delisa, my girl from the group, had been there as a special guest with her husband, Stanley Promise, who’d preached the celebratory message. If she had not been there to stop me, I would have suffocated the life out of Dawn.

  Delisa had tried to tell me not to be upset about Dawn presenting Darvin with a Bentley, but I couldn’t help it. I was so torn about how I felt about it, I couldn’t even be happy for him. I knew he wanted a Bentley—had for some time—but I just didn’t think that my new archenemy would be the one to give it to him. Dawn had done a few vague things, but never anything this vivid for me to dislike her.

  After everyone had cooed their congratulations to Darvin on his new Bentley and had tried to subsidize their lack of interest in me with equally as nice comments, we were finally ready to leave. I wanted to go home, change into a relaxing outfit, and kick my heels up with a glass of sweet tea. I wasn’t in the mood for the annual fellowship brunch that was held at Ray’s on the River. I needed my space to be alone to think.

  Delisa and Stanley greeted members and guests alongside Darvin and me, and were also ready to go.

  “Why don’t we let the guys head on home, and you and I can stop by the store and grab something to cook, instead of going out,” I suggested.

  She exchanged looks with Stanley and Darvin before turning back to me. “Girl, we are exhausted. After that service today, I’m too tired to cook. Let’s just go on to the brunch. I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.”

  I tried to bore a hole into her. She knew good and well that I was trying to avoid the brunch so I could be alone and digest everything that had happened. I just didn’t feel up to smiling and trying to be excited when I really wasn’t.

  Once again, this was not my day. This was the day for Darvin to be honored, and most of the time, people had nothing to say about me, unless they were just trying to appease me. Even though my heart told me to be excited for him, my head ached. My body screamed for rest.

  I turned to Darvin. “I’ll tell you what. Why don’t you go without me this time? I’m tired, and I just don’t feel up to going.”

  Not hiding the disappointment in his eyes, he said, “But, baby, this is our day. We can’t just not show up to our own brunch.”

  “You know I will go to the end of the Earth for you, but this is not my day. This is your day. And before you go into the ‘we’re one’ speech, I already know that. But let’s be honest. This celebration is more for your honor than mine, so if I go home, people will notice, but will in the same minute get over it.”

  His displeasure showed on his face. I hated to disappoint him, but I didn’t want to be the one to spoil the party. If I went, my sourness would be contagious.

  “Baby, please don’t do this. This is a happy time for us. Let’s just enjoy brunch, and tomorrow we’ll rest and relax all day. Our congregation really wants to see us both there,” he pleaded.

  I looked from Darvin to Delisa to Stanley, and back to Darvin, trying to make up my mind. I scratched my head in several places before I said, “No. You go.”

  Delisa, obviously irritated, pulled me by the arm and over to the side, out of listening distance of the men. “Listen, you know I love you and you are my friend, but you have got to grow up. What happened to the woman who just last week at our meeting was so strong and ready to take on any giant?

  “Do you remember how determined you were to be happy? We were all so proud of you because you deserved it. You’ve been through a lot, and to hear you get your motivation back was like music to our ears. Now, you’re standing here telling me that you’re going to allow a woman who bought your husband his dream car take away all that you’ve worked so hard to get?” She pulled me closer as if she didn’t think I could already hear her. “She may have the money, but you have that man’s heart. And money cannot buy love, Michelle. How many times have you heard that?”

  She looked over to make sure that the men were not listening. And they weren’t. They were looking through the glass doors at Darvin’s new Bentley.

  She continued. “Now, I’m going to need you to get it together, Miss Thing. You are not going out like this. You are a month away from delivering your baby, and trust me, no Bentley or any amount of money will ever be able to replace the happiness that you’ll give him bringing his child into the world. So let her buy all of those expensive gifts. Let her continue putting thousands of dollars in his hands. Aren’t you the one enjoying the benefits?”

  It was more of a statement than a question. “All right, now wipe that smug look off of your face. Take one for t
he team and go to this brunch. Besides, girl, I’m hungry,” she joked.

  I pondered what she said. Delisa was right. I needed to pack my feelings back on the inside and take this like a woman. I didn’t need to get even with this woman. I already had Darvin, and I was secure enough in our marriage to know that a Bentley wasn’t enough to get his full attention. Or was it? I shifted my focus back over to Darvin. The expression of joy and pride on his face was unmistakable.

  “Baby,” Darvin called, “are you going?”

  I looked one final time at Delisa. “Yes, sweetie.”

  He flashed me his smile of approval. “Good. I want you to be the first one to drive my new Bentley.”

  I was floored. “Darvin! You can’t do that. I know you want to drive it.”

  “I’ll have plenty of time to drive it. But I want you to be the first,” he said. Afterward, he walked over to me and said, “And my last.”

  Lord have mercy. That man always knew what to say and when to say it.

  Once inside the car, I realized I had another problem.

  There was no way I would be able to fit comfortably behind the wheel of a two-seater sports car, especially not with thunder thighs and a bubble belly.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Michelle

  My doctor’s appointment was today, and I could hardly wait.

  Darvin’s schedule did not permit him to go with me, and I was less than happy about it. Once again, I was going to try to find out the sex of the baby.

  I navigated my Navigator into a parking space at the prestigious Buckhead medical facility. Another woman in a Range Rover pulled up beside me, retouched her makeup, and got out. Her pregnant stomach was almost as big as mine.

  I’d only gained seventeen pounds so far, but I looked like a hot air balloon. I was carrying our son or daughter all in my stomach, and a little in my hips. I never knew how much being pregnant would stretch your body in places you didn’t even know would stretch.

  I wasn’t exactly in shape when I found out I was pregnant, but I had been holding on to a size twelve for years. Now, I was a size fourteen, bordering along the lines of sixteen, and I had this puffy face that made me look even bigger.

  Darvin didn’t seem to mind my weight gain at all. He often took pictures of me and my pregnant belly, and would save them on his phone’s screensaver.

  So many nights we stayed up talking about the baby and how our lives would change. On the nights the baby was kicking and wouldn’t settle down, he would sing lullabies. After a couple of songs, the baby and I would both be asleep.

  A smile turned the corners of my mouth as I thought about those precious moments. I turned off the ignition, grabbed my purse, and proceeded toward the doctor’s office. I touched my stomach and willed the baby to be in a position that would reveal its sex.

  I walked through the door and saw Nancy, the appointment scheduler, sitting in her usual spot, greeting all of us mothers-to-be as we walked in.

  “Hey, Mrs. Johnson,” Nancy sang. “Aren’t you looking nice today? That brown skirt and rust turtleneck with that blazer . . . girl, you know you working it.” She snapped her fingers. Nancy always made me laugh with her “sister girl” attitude. She was as white as snow, but you couldn’t tell by the way she acted.

  “Thank you, Nancy.”

  “Are you excited about your visit today? Girl, you’re almost there. What? Four more weeks?”

  “Yes, very excited. And yes, four more weeks, and I’m counting them down.”

  She laughed. “That baby is so lucky to have a mother like you and a father like Mr. Johnson. Speaking of Mr. Johnson, where is the handsome fellow today?”

  “He’s out of town on a speaking engagement. He will be back later tonight.”

  “Well, hopefully, you’ll find out the sex of that baby and have some good news for him.”

  “Hopefully so. I’m planning something big in the event that I find out today.”

  “Honey, you go, girl! Don’t forget how you got that baby. So, don’t be planning too much, honey child.”

  “I can’t get pregnant anymore until after I have this one, so whatever happens tonight, I don’t think I have too much to worry about,” I said, laughing at her humor.

  “Girl, I’m almost sixty years old. You know I ain’t got all of my scruples.

  The elevator quit going all the way to the top some time ago.”

  And she wasn’t lying about that. “You are crazy.”

  I shared a little more small talk with Nancy before going to sit down. I sat for about another ten minutes before they called my name. I followed my nurse, Carla, to the back, and went into the cold exam room to undress and wait for Dr. Stenzel to come in.

  Dr. Stenzel was an amazing doctor. In the early stages of my pregnancy, I stressed about everything. When we were in the heat of all of our turmoil, I’d experienced some bleeding due to stress, and Dr. Stenzel on many occasions allowed me to call her after hours. She was German, with years of experience in obstetrics and gynecology, and had bedside manners that made her one of the most sought after doctors in Buckhead. Her waiting list was almost two years long.

  I got moved up in the list after meeting her at a luncheon. We sat at the same table and hit it off instantly. At the time, I didn’t know I was pregnant, and had gone to her because I’d been experiencing pain in my lower abdomen.

  The pain turned out to be the stretching of my uterus because I was six weeks pregnant.

  That day seemed like ages ago. Now, as I sat here four weeks away from welcoming my baby into the world, the feeling was overwhelming. As usual, the tears began to flow down my face, while the reality of being a mother was pressing its way closer to the forefront. I didn’t know if I was ready to be a mom, but I was definitely excited about it.

  Dr. Stenzel came in. “Hey, Miss Lady. How are we doing today?”

  “We’re fine,” I said, rubbing my stomach for like the millionth time that day.

  “Good. I like to hear that. We’re too close to turn around now,” she joked.

  “I know. Hopefully, today we will know more about this little one, so we can get better prepared.”

  “Let’s get started then. You know the routine. Lay back and let’s get this party started.”

  I lay back as Dr. Stenzel performed a routine check-up. She then reached for the cold gel that always left me covered in chill bumps. She applied it to my stomach and turned the ultrasound machine so that it would face me. I crossed my fingers, hoping that the baby would behave.

  After a few moments passed by, she said, “You’re going to have a feisty little fellow.”

  “I know,” I said. Then it hit me. “What did you just say?” I asked with my eyes as big as quarters.

  “I said you’re going to have a feisty little fellow,” she said again.

  Huge, mountain-sized tears streamed down my face. “So, I’m having a boy?” I breathed.

  “Yep. That little thing right there better be on a little boy.” She laughed.

  She pointed to the screen and showed me the evidence that identified my baby as a male.

  “Wow. Darvin is going to be so happy,” I bawled out between tears. “Oh my goodness, it really is a boy.” The baby had his legs wide open today, as if to reward me for my patience.

  Dr. Stenzel turned off the machine after printing the pictures. She wiped the gel from my stomach, wrote brief comments on my chart, and it was over.

  “How are you doing? Are you getting plenty of rest and taking care of yourself ?” she asked.

  “It has been a rocky road for a while, but I’m doing well. I still have my days, but I think about my baby and I tell myself I have a reason to live.”

  Dr. Stenzel rubbed my arm. “And that’s a very good reason.” She stood up. “Remember what I said. Where there’s a healthy mommy, there’s a healthy—”

  “Baby,” I said, finishing the statement for her.

  Dr. Stenzel laughed. “Do I say it that much?”
<
br />   I joined her laughter. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “All right, Miss Mommy-to-be, you are ready to go. I’ll see you back here in a couple of weeks.”

  “One last thing. Darvin and I had planned a trip to Los Angeles for next week. It’s our last chance to get away before the baby comes. Do you think it will be okay for me to fly?”

  She looked skeptically at me above her black-rimmed glasses. “Hmm, I don’t know, Michelle. How long are you planning to stay out there?”

  “Just three days. We wanted to leave on Thursday morning and return on Saturday evening.”

  She continued to stare at me, trying to make up her mind as to what her recommendation would be. “You will need to check with your airline to make certain they will allow you to fly in your eighth month. In my professional opinion, I guess it will be okay. But you have to stay off your feet. And you have to make sure that you’re not under any stress. I don’t want you to have to worry about you going into premature labor.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I said in a military fashion. “I promise to be extra careful. This is going to be our last getaway for a while, so I plan to relax and prepare myself mentally to come back and take on my new role as a mother.”

  She still looked a little unconvinced. “I guess that will be fine. Like I said, be careful. I really shouldn’t be agreeing to this, but since the trip is next week and according to your exam today, you’re not close to a natural delivery, I’m going to make an exception.”

  I reached up and hugged her. “Thanks. I really appreciate it. You’re the best. And because you’re the best, I’m going to let you deliver all of my babies.” I grinned.

  “Yeah, whatever. You just take care of yourself.”

  With that, she walked out. I got off of the table and put my clothes back on. I had to hurry and get to the store so I could pick up the items I needed for tonight. I had the perfect idea to surprise Darvin with the sex of our baby.