“George, this is Darlene Hill,” she said hopefully into the phone. “I was calling to check on you, to make sure you were alright.”
“You pack a heck of a wallop, but I am okay,” he said followed by with a long winded sigh. “Darlene, have dinner with me?”
That was the correct question because she was starving. The last items in her pantry were three cans of vegetable beef soup and two packs of ramen noodles. Those would have to last for a while. Lucky for her, George liked to eat out and not in the cafeteria.
Their first date he drove up in a shiny blue BMW with a state of the art sound system that he used to play only Donald Fagen and Michael Franks. Darlene didn’t even think that a meal was worth suffering through a car ride of that music. Instead of changing the channel, she turned the music down so she could talk to him.
“Man, MTV has gone live. British bands are the rage, Madonna is taking the world by storm, Duran Duran is the hottest ticket around and you are listening to Michael Franks!” She said with a bit of disgust in her voice.
George was nonplussed. “Yeah, when those guys are one hit wonders and old men with bald heads and tight leather pants, I can still buy tickets to hear Donald Fagen and his music will not be dated. I won’t have to attend a retro concert filled with has beens trying to capture a time when they believed they were cool.”
It made sense.
George made sense.
For nearly a month he fed her. Darlene put a halt to the expensive restaurant meals and taught him how to grocery shop. Together they cooked dinners and shared stories. It didn’t take long before they became the “it” couple on campus. George became president of his fraternity and Darlene chartered a NAACP Chapter. He had his own way of getting things done behind the scenes and he was okay for her to be out front in the spotlight.
Out front is where she lived throughout law school. George, after learning to cook well balanced meals under her direction, would make lunches for her while she studied. The small apartment they shared off campus became a central point for friends to gather to see what the power couple had planned for the weekend. George had impeccable taste in wine and she in saving money. With George’s connections, weekend get-aways took on a whole new meaning. She learned how to speak with the hoi polloi on Thursdays and put a sweet little black dress with pearls to meet with Congressmen and well-funded supporters at Friday cocktail mixers.
Before long, she was wearing his ring, meeting his family and spending Thanksgiving in Connecticut and Christmas in Virginia. During law school Darlene married George in a mid-sized wedding full of people she’d read about in newspapers who were friends of the Patterson’s. Her side of the church was littered with blue collar workers whose shoes did not always match their belts while his side wore couture and designer suits.
They began their life together in a small townhouse in Georgetown. It was a good marriage that produced two strong, brilliant children that Darlene rarely got to see because of her hectic work schedule and business travels. After a few years, George moved the family to a larger home in Fredericksburg next to political pundits and the who’s who of politics on “The Hill”. Her neighbors were people Darlene rarely saw outside of work related encounters but warm bodies she shared headlines with in national papers. Although she attempted to make it home for dinner each night, her travels and activism for the rights of animals and the planet kept her on the road.
George never complained. Darlene didn’t complain either. He groomed and nurtured their children in the manner in which he was raised.
Their son, George the fourth headed off to college in a shiny black BMW with a state of the art sound system that he used mainly to listen to Najee and Kenny G. Their daughter, Nathalie, was the spitting image of her mother but the mouth piece of their father. Nathalie grew up a staunch conservative who believed that P.E.T.A. meant people eating tasty animals. Either she was masticating large chunks of their flesh or wearing them in the form of leather pants and rare animal hides on her wrist in the usage of ridiculously expensive purses. She and Darlene never saw eye to eye on anything, least of all the super conservative, stupidly rich man Nathalie married at the age of 20.
Nathalie became the mother of twins at the ripe age of twenty-noe. Darlene’s heart broke for her daughter.
“You will never understand what it means to be a woman of substance,” she told Nathalie.
“Mother, you are so busy trying to be something that you have never stopped to be anybody’s someone. You are everything to Daddy, yet he seems like a man who is only there to support you and be your cheerleader. When have you ever cheered anyone else...you never even cheered on your own children because you were never around,” Nathalie told her. “And especially not your grandchildren. Do you even know their names?”
She knew their names. Those children were going to be her opportunity to see for the first time all the things she missed with her own children. The first steps, the first tooth, and their first words she would have experienced with her grandchildren since she missed most of these rites of passage with her daughter and son. She had planned to cheer on the little darlings, had they lived. Darlene also had plans to cheer on her daughter as her husband put in his bid for President of United States. There was no way the slimy little bastard Nathalie married would be elected, which was also something they argued about.
“He did not earn his money honestly, which is going to come out,” Darlene told her daughter.
“You say that as if Dad earned his money; he inherited it...no rich man earns his money honestly Mother!” she said with extra venom in her voice.
“That is where you are wrong. The money we have, your father earned with investments. That husband of yours is going to use up your youth, break your heart, and leave you with two small children to raise,” Darlene told her before walking out of the room. She left the house to catch a plane to Arizona to chat to an Indian chief about tribal land rights; a Chief she can no longer remember his name.
It was the last conversation she had with her daughter. It was more than the conversation she had with her son. Darlene racked her brain for four years trying to remember if she had kissed George goodbye before he climbed in the minivan with their two children and two grandkids to go to the ball game.
The only thing she could remember was that she had never been George’s cheerleader. She had given birth twice, but she had never been a mother. Her life had been spent caring for the environment yet never understanding the world in which she existed. Hunger had altered her life course. A full belly and 5,500 square foot home had been the shrine in which George perched his trophy.
I was his trophy wife.
She made more money than he did and it was without question that he was in charge of the finances. He took care of all the details including her dry cleaning bill, the braces for the kids and even the family vacations. George had taken care of everything. Like a wind up doll he pointed her in the direction she should go and off she toddled taking on one cause after another.
After his death she found all the windfalls he had received for her legislative fights. Large sums of money had been paid to a non-profit he created as a shell company to receive the pay-offs. George never needed his parent’s money because he had accumulated millions of dollars in favors for the fights he selected for her.
The truth of her life with George is what took her down the dark path. The verity of his actions had kept her in that dark house for four years. The legitimacy about her purpose for saving the planet had been altered by her husband’s greed.
An ugliness crept up around her throat and nearly suffocated her each time she thought about how George used her for his own personal gain. Like an idiot she thought she was doing good for the planet and making a difference. She missed out on being a real mother to her children because she had inadvertently been his pawn.
Richard had wanted the same thing from her.
Cornell wanted a playmate in the bedroom.
Dar
rell had shown her a light.
It was Daniel who made her want to live.
It was just about twilight in Wyoming when Darlene stepped out on the balcony of the guest bedroom and listened to the coming of a new day. A new day that reminded her that she had never been happy in her marriage. Four years of sitting by yourself in a house that you hated was a agonizing reminder that there is a big difference in being fulfilled and being busy.
For the last 26 years, she had been busy. The excruciating realization that kept her in darkness for four years was the truth that she hadn’t been happy in a long time. She had simply been too busy to realize it.
Chapter Ten – Dusk to Dawn
The quietness of the Monday morning settled around her ankles like an oversized furry cat, bringing warmth and a different kind of comfort. A nice warm cup of tea in hand, she walked around each room of the house, mentally cataloging what she wanted to keep, sell or to give away. Much of the items from this life she planned to leave behind because many of the items were not of her choosing.
It had never occurred to her that she didn’t decorate her own home. There were no little touches in any room that brought back fond memories of items she collected during her travels with George and the kids. As she stood in the entry way to the formal dining room, the cherry table which seated ten was picked by George. The family portrait that hung on the wall was scheduled by George who commissioned the artist.
“I don’t think I picked out a damned thing in this whole house,” she said aloud.
My closet.
The cup which was now cool, she sat on the kitchen counter as she bounded the stairs by twos. Her heart hammered against her chest as she opened the door of her closet to stare at her clothing. Rows of suits, hangers of gowns, piles of sweaters and racks of shoes... “I didn’t pick any of this shit!”
Her hands moved quickly over the rack, sliding hangar after hanger to the right as she eyed the silk blouses, matching scarfs, and expensive fabrics. These clothes were all purchased for her by a stylist George had hired. The house was decorated by a designer which too had been hired by George.
“I didn’t even pick my own china pattern!” she yelled out loud and dropped to the floor in the closet.
Her breathing was labored as rapid breaths came out of her mouth causing her to hyperventilate.
Get a grip. Get a grip. Breath. Relax. Calm.
The doorbell rang forcing her off the floor and back down the stairs. Darlene reached for the handle and froze. She looked down at herself and to her surprise she was fully dressed. Her hands flew to her hair.
I showered and got dressed this morning. I even combed my hair.
Through the side glass panels of the door she could see the definitive form of her brother Roosevelt. Her heart skipped a beat as she disarmed the security system and flung open the front door. She was genuinely happy to see him.
“Rosie! This is a surprise!” she exclaimed as she hurled herself into his arms.
Seeing his little sister out of bed, dressed and with color in her cheeks was a surprise to him as well. Roosevelt Hill was not a large man. He stood only at 5’9, but was all muscle, attitude and purpose. As Sheriff in Venture, Georgia, he ensured that the town was crime free and the citizens felt safe. Darlene often felt the same way around him.
“You must have been mighty worried to drive all the way from the bottom of Georgia to come up here and see about me,” she said as she ushered him into the house.
“I have called several times these past weekends and got the answering machine so I was worried,” he told her as he gave her a brief hug.
“Yeah, I have been getting out of the house a bit here lately,” she said coyly.
“It seems like you have been gone every weekend. What have you been doing if I might ask,” he wanted to know.
“I have been shopping,” she said to him. Her eyes said so much more.
“I know you well Sis. Were you shopping for something in particular?” he asked with one eyebrow raised. His eyes grazed over the inside of the house. Nothing had changed in the last four years in any room. However, something had changed in Darlene.
“Yes, I spent the past 4 weekends husband shopping,” she told him with pride.
“Excuse me...what?” he asked with his brown eyes boring into her.
“Believe it or not, I actually found one,” she said as she pulled some eggs from the fridge. This was followed by some heavy cream, chives, cheese, and bits of ham. “His name is Daniel Wilstrom, he is a park ranger out in Wyoming, at the Medicine Bow-Routt National Forest and Thunder Basin Grasslands. He built a cabin out there and I swear Roosevelt, it has the most beautiful backdrop of natural beauty I have ever seen in my life. He wants to open a country store that will sell his furniture. Honestly, I am thinking that maybe I can make some soaps, jams, and even a quilt or two to sell in the store.”
It all came out in one run on sentence as she told him of her plans. Roosevelt said nothing as he watched her move about the kitchen, cooking like she used to when they were younger. As many times as he had been in this house, he could not recall her ever cooking; not even during the holidays. The kitchen was always full of hired staff that cooked and served up the food. When it wasn’t the holiday season, there was still a maid and a cook at the house. She whipped the eggs in a metal bowl and poured it in a hot omelet pan. Seeing Darlene cooking for herself was almost a welcome change.
“Wyoming? How did you meet this man...I mean what do you know about him...when is the wedding?” He blurted out the questions.
“We have not set a date yet, there are some fine details to iron out, but Rosie, I know you are going to like him,” she said as flipped the omelet in the pan.
Roosevelt sat quietly watching her body language. Truth was he didn’t like the last husband he walked her down the aisle and handed her over to, but George had given her a good life.
“Darlene, if that is what you want I am happy for you. However,” he said with a pause. “I would like to meet the man first.”
“Of course. I want both you and James to meet him,” she told him as she plated up their breakfast.
“Thank you,” he mumbled. “You still haven’t told me how you met this Daniel Wilstrom.”
Darlene was grinning from ear to ear when she responded. “I found him online at a hotbabe4u.com,” she said laughing.
Roosevelt’s eyes were wide. “You are kidding with me ...”
“Yeah, actually Krysten found Daniel and three others for me online. I spent the past 4 weekends traveling to meet them, so I went shopping.”
“That is unsafe!” Was the first thing he yelled. “You traveled to meet strange men you met online without me or James knowing where you were! What if something happened to you! Have you lost your mind?”
She hit him on the arm. “Calm down. Krysten was with me each of the trips. Really Roosevelt, I am not twelve anymore.”
Roosevelt shook his head, “I know, but you are so...”
“So what? Vulnerable? Negro please. I have castrated more companies and men who thought they were tough shit just with the use of my pen. If you think some man is going to overpower me you are mistaken.”
He was up and standing over her in less than 3 seconds. It only took her two to bring him down to his knees with a few skillful moves he had taught her as a young girl. She knew the moves, had practiced them and was showing him her mastery. Darlene bent her head to his ear. “I am a certified bad ass Rosie. I am also ready to get back to living. I can have something powerful with Daniel. I feel it, and it can be... a different life for me. ”
She let him up from the floor and off his knees.
“James and I want to meet this man, look in his eyes and shake his hand before you walk down any aisle or go to any courthouse. Do you understand?”
Darlene burst out laughing. “And if I don’t, are you going to spank me?”
“I am serious. Things have changed in the 26 years you were married. Men ha
ve changed,” he told her.
“Yes, they have, but a good man is still out there. I found one in Daniel,” she told him. The duskiness in her life was over. She had forgiven herself for being so blind about George, she was going to walk into the dawn with Daniel with her eyes wide open.
She kissed Roosevelt on the cheek. “You set a good example. I have not misread what I see and felt within Daniel. I am excited to start a new life – a new life with him.”
Chapter Eleven –Afterlight
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Darlene’s footfall were heavy on the treadmill as she tried to make it through the second mile of her morning run. It had been two weeks since her brother’s visit and another thirty minutes before her morning call with Daniel. The more she talked to him the more she liked the idea of sharing a life with the large man. Moreover, she loved sharing a vision with him to build something together.
Balance.
A life with Daniel would have balance.
The ringing of her cell phone brought the painful run to a blessed end. She hopped off the machine as if Santa had pulled up to her front door riding Blitzen. Phone in hand, she ran the pad of her index finger across the screen. She hoped it was Daniel but instead it was Krysten.
“Gurl!” she yelled into the phone, “How long you gonna wait before you give that big hunk of yummy man some of that dusty Darlene?”
Darlene lowered the phone to stare at the screen. She put it back to her ear, “Why am I friends with you again? I keep asking myself that same question and I still don’t have a logical answer.”
“Because I am cute and Mama takes care of you. So...tell me,” Krysten urged.
“Tell you what?”
“How long you going to hold out before you mount that big strong stallion and ride him until your hip gives out?”
“If this is your idea of girl talk, it is not working for me,” Darlene told her.
“I am the closest thing you have to a sister...hey, speaking of sister, has Daniel told you he has six of them?”
Wyoming Nights Page 6