Dream Girl Awakened
Page 26
Reader Discussion Guide
1. What other avenues beyond infidelity should Aruba have explored to improve her marriage, or should she have sought a divorce?
2. Do you think Victoria made it easy for Aruba to pursue Winston?
3. Throughout the book, many characters expressed mistrust amongst other women. Why do you think this is the case?
4. Should Maxine have intervened at the cookout during her reading?
5. James was the husband women love to hate. Do you think Hinton and Conyers should have hired him given his sketchy work history? Do you think he would have crossed paths with Tawatha otherwise? What do you think about the turnaround he made?
6. Tawatha was all too happy to be with James at any cost. Could Lasheera and Jamilah have helped her, or was it impossible to talk any sense to her?
7. Which character did you relate to most?
8. What do you think the fallout of Tawatha’s actions will be for Aunjanue in the future?
9. Do you think Aruba got what she deserved in the end?
IF YOU ENJOYED “DREAM GIRL AWAKENED,’
PLEASE BE SURE TO LOOK FOR
Forgive Me
BY STACY CAMPBELL
COMING SOON FROM STREBOR BOOKS
[1]
Today is a good day to be released from prison, Tawatha thought. She gathered her duffle bag and wondered what was taking Royce so long to pick her up. She glanced backward at the Indiana Women’s Prison, her home for the past five years. She would miss the few friends she’d made, the Wednesday evening Bible study sessions, and the exchanges amongst the others who were also confined because of bad love choices.
She still wasn’t convinced about spirituality and all the things she’d learned behind bars, but she was sure of one thing: her girlfriend, Jamilah, pulled a ram out of a bush and set her free. Not only was she free, but she’d gained a certain measure of respect from the other prisoners. Even after killing three of her four children in a house fire.
“Tawatha,” a voice called out behind her.
Tawatha turned to see Faithia Perkins, a trustee and mother of the group. She’d embraced Tawatha from the beginning of her stint and kept the wolves at bay after Tawatha’s first beating by the other inmates.
“I almost missed you. CO Morris told me you were leaving. I hopped all the way from the infirmary just to say good-bye.”
“I was hoping I’d see you,” said Tawatha.
“I just wanted to give you a hug and tell you to keep your head up. I don’t want to see you back in this place. You’ve got a second chance to get it right and I want you to make good on it.”
I will not cry, I will not cry. Tawatha opened her arms and let Faithia’s embrace soothe her. She would miss the earthy smell of Faithia’s skin, the gentleness of her hands when she braided her hair, and all the long talks they’d had about Faithia’s sentence. “I knew saying good-bye to you would be hard. That’s why I snuck out.”
“No matter what happens, you have to move on. Don’t look back; move forward, Tawatha.”
Before she could shed a tear, Royce’s Mercedes appeared. He smiled when he saw her, then dimmed his wattage at the sight of Faithia. He pulled alongside the curb.
Faithia watched the handsome, salt-and-pepper-haired gentleman alight from the stylish car. Tawatha had mentioned her former boss would pick her up, but from the look in his eyes, Faithia picked up on more than an employee/employer vibe.
“Mr. Hinton, I’m so happy you’re here,” said Tawatha. “This is Ms. Faithia Perkins, prison trustee and the only reason I survived in this place.”
Royce folded his arms, raised an eyebrow, and gave Tawatha a look.
“Royce, this is Ms. Faithia Perkins,” Tawatha corrected her formal introduction of Royce’s name.
“That’s better,” said Royce, extending his hand to Faithia.
“I trust you’ll take good care of Tawatha. She’s special to me. She’s come to be like a second daughter.”
“I plan to take the very best care of her,” said Royce. He took Tawatha’s bag, popped the trunk, and placed it among the surprises he’d planted for her. He opened the passenger door and Tawatha eased into the seat, unsure of where they were heading.
She waved to Faithia one last time and looked ahead as Royce drove away from the prison. There was no need to look back. Only forward.
“So where are we going?” asked Tawatha.
“Well, I figured you’d want to take a shower and perhaps go out to dinner. I remember you loved Olive Garden. I just want you to unwind tonight.”
“Did my mother return your calls?”
“She did.” Royce sighed. “She said she’s not ready to welcome you into her home right now, and asked that you give her some time.”
Tawatha’s countenance deflated. “So where am I supposed to go? She didn’t write me in prison and the few times she came to see, me she just stared at me like I was a monster.”
“Calm down. I anticipated this before I picked you up.”
“What about Lasheera?”
“Ditto. Since Lasheera and Lake adopted Aunjanue, they feel your presence will disrupt her life. This is Aunjanue’s senior year, and well . . .” Royce’s voice trailed off.
Tawatha sat back in her seat, unable to hide her hurt. She almost wanted him to turn the car around and take her back to prison. What kind of life would she have if the people she loved treated her like she didn’t exist? Jamilah was the only crew member who still communicated with her and had her back. To everyone else, she was a child-murdering ogress who should have been given the death penalty.
“Is that okay with you?” Royce asked, interrupting her thoughts.
“What did you say?” she asked.
“I asked if you’d be all right staying at my place for a while. You won’t actually be staying with me. There’s a carriage house in back of my property and you’re welcome to live there ’til you get back on your feet.”
“What about Millicent?”
“Millie and I have been divorced for about two years now. After our daughter died, things never were the same between us. I filed. I don’t think she wanted to admit we were through.”
“I wish you’d told me that. Ms. Millicent was always nice to me when she came by the office. I envied your relationship. How long were you married?”
“Thirty-four years.”
“That’s a lifetime.”
Royce drove past the main dwelling to the carriage house. His in-laws had passed on four years ago, leaving the house lifeless.
“Royce, this place is beautiful. Are you sure it’s okay for me to stay?”
“Last time I checked, my name was on the deed to both places. Come on inside.”
Royce removed her bag and gifts from the trunk. He gave her a set of keys to the house and stepped just inside the living room, giving her time and space to take in her surroundings.
“Get some rest and call me if you want to go out later tonight.”
“Royce, I’m speechless. If it takes me forever, I promise I’ll make this up to you.” She hugged him and counted the ways she’d show him just how much she appreciated his kindness.
[2]
“Baby, don’t fidget. Let me get this tie straight,” said Shandy.
“How many times do I have to tell you I can knot my own tie, Shan?” James joked and swatted Shandy’s hand.
“And have us looking crazy at this banquet? No way.”
“Oh, I’m representing you, now, huh?”
“Don’t you forget it, either.” Shandy kissed James on the lips, grateful for an evening on the town. Maybe this kiss would be a precursor to a night of passion that kept eluding them.
“Slow your roll, Ms. Fulton. We’ve got all night to be together,” James chided.
I won’t start with him tonight. I’ll let things unfold. “So how long do you think this shindig will last? When Isaak gets worked up, he can’t stop. Even Katrina can’t make him be quiet.”
/> “If my mentor wants to talk all night, let him. Sitting at his feet made me the success I am, so you won’t hear any complaints from me.”
James raked his fingers through his curly mane as he eyed Shandy. His thoughts worked double-time to concoct another excuse to be intimate with her. They’d grown closer over the past four years of dating, but something was missing in their relationship and he couldn’t put his finger on it. He knew any man would gladly trade places with him. Shandy had become his business partner first, then his lover. She’d moved in with him over a year ago and went to work making his house her own. She never uttered why, but he knew the renovation was to erase all traces of his ex-wife, Aruba.
Maybe Shan could erase traces of Aruba, but he couldn’t. Of late, Aruba was all he thought about. Their divorce had ended bitterly after she pursued her friend’s husband, Winston, and won hands down. Aruba waited for him to get his act together, encouraged him to work, and reassured him she’d always be there for him. She held out for ten years and then swiped back the promise of forever when she discovered he’d had an affair with Tawatha Gipson, a secretary at his former job. Tawatha’s obsession graduated to insanity when she burned three of her children in a house fire to be with him. He marveled at Aruba’s audacity, self-righteousness, and unwillingness to give their marriage a second chance since she crept with Winston just as he crept with Tawatha. Who was he kidding? It would have been chance number 300 after the way he’d treated her. If that wasn’t enough, an out-of-wedlock daughter he produced with Tawatha, Jameshia, was still at the forefront of his mind. He always said if he had a child, he wanted to be a part of the child’s life. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be and he didn’t know how to make things right. The few times he’d visited Aruba in Los Angeles, their son, Jeremiah, refused to talk to him. Little man had grown into a sharp, witty nine-year-old who needed him.
“So will I have to stage a mutiny for a vegetarian meal tonight?” Shandy asked, coaxing James from his thoughts of Jeremiah and past indiscretions.
“I got that taken care of already. I know how much you detest meat, Shan.”
“Keep eating secretions if you like. I just want my man to be healthy.”
“I’m pure meat and potatoes. Always have been, always will be.”
“I’ll wear you down eventually,” said Shandy. Literally and figuratively. She wanted to know what he was thinking but was too afraid to ask. When she scooted closer to him at night in bed and rubbed his hair or his stomach, he’d turn to her, eyes still shut, and say, “I miss you, Aruba.” The only thing she knew about their divorce was that Aruba cheated on him with her girlfriend’s husband. She wondered why he’d miss a woman like Aruba and why, after all these years, he seemed filled with regret. The last time she broached the subject, an ugly shouting match ensued, James stormed out the house, and he spent two nights in a hotel. No way was she mentioning the subject again. She loved him so much and wanted to be the new Mrs. Dixon. This summer would be the mother of all tests because his son, Jeremiah, was coming to stay from late-May to August. Her exposure to children was babysitting her niece, Kathryn, whenever she visited Vegas and gave her twin brother, Simeon, a night on the town with his wife.
“And afterward, we can go dancing if you like,” said James.
“What did you say?” asked Shandy.
“I said after the banquet, we can go dancing if you like.”
“Or we can come home and make passionate love until the sun comes up.”
“Is that all I am to you?” joked James.
“Of course not. That’s one of many things I like about you, James Dixon.”
Shandy twirled around in her teal and black floor-length dress. She’d had her shoulder-length hair pulled back in a bun and her makeup done at the same studio she’d frequented since meeting James. Maybe James would find the look appealing enough tonight. She always looked good on his arm; lately, she had found it hard to captivate him behind closed doors.
Tonight has to be different. I can’t take this pain much longer.
About the Author
Stacy Campbell was born and raised in Sparta, Georgia, where she spent summers on her family’s front porch listening to the animated tales of her older relatives. She lives with her family in Indianapolis, Indiana. Dream Girl Awakened is her first novel. You may visit the author on Facebook.
You may also email Stacy at georgiapeach2814@aol.com or visit her website at www.stacyloveswriting.com.
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Strebor Books
P.O. Box 6505
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Strebor Books
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
© 2013 by Stacy Campbell
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means whatsoever. For information address Strebor Books, P.O. Box 6505, Largo, MD 20792.
ISBN 978-1-59309-457-7
ISBN 978-1-4516-9654-7 (ebook)
LCCN 2012951344
First Strebor Books trade paperback edition February 2013
Cover design: www.mariondesigns.com
Cover photograph: © Keith Saunders/Marion Designs
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