NOTHING STAYS THE SAME

by Suzetta Perkins

  “And Kenny had his stuff together, too. It was a pitiful sight to have to witness. When Kinyard said that he had bought Marvin’s shares in the company, I swear Kenny turned deep purple. He was like a hot pot with no handles. You couldn’t touch him, he was so mad. If Barack Obama hadn’t been there, I believe Kenny would have kicked someone’s ass tonight, especially when Kinyard told him that his job was safe.”

  “Marvin looked pitiful. As much as I want to hate him, he’s still a good man. He’s got some serious issues that he and Rachel are going to have to work through. Glad I’m not in their shoes. In fact, let’s stop talking about them and let me give you that raincheck I promised.”

  “Ohhhhhh, that’s what I’m talking about, baby.”

  “Michael, it’s funny how talking about the depressed makes you horny.”

  “Baby, in my profession, that’s called passive aggression. I say, bring it on.”

  Mona began to laugh.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Michael asked.

  “Baby, you should see yourself trying to get out of your clothes. You’ve got your shirt hanging on by one sleeve, and you’ve got one leg in and one leg out of your boxers all at the same time.” Mona giggled again.

  “Ready to box?” Michael looked at Mona with lust in his married soul. “Come on, girl, I’m not going to be able to wait too much longer.”

  “I’m ready, Dr. Broussard.”

  Michael rushed to where Mona stood in her lacy, slate-blue bra and panties and wrapped his arms around her and hypnotized her with a passionate kiss. He stopped and looked at her, then politely lifted her from the floor and carried her into the bathroom. He lifted her into the shower, getting in behind her, and turned the water on. The steam cloud provided the perfect curtain as the water beat down on them and cleansed their souls.

  Claudette took off her coat and slipped onto the couch. Tyrone followed, putting his arm around her. They sat in the dimly lit family room without uttering a word. Ten minutes passed.

  “Baby, would you like for me to make you some tea?” Tyrone asked. “It might soothe your soul.”

  “Back in the day, I would have lit up a cigarette. Something about the nicotine eases the pain. There was so much pain in that room tonight, Tyrone; I just couldn’t take it. Seeing Rachel all bottled up in her sadness...”

  “At least Marvin’s going to be alright. It seems like the whole room was mad at him. Whatever was on Marvin’s mind that made him do what he did had to be pretty awful. He’s a good man, though. He’s done so much for everyone in our group, especially us.”

  “I know,” Claudette said. “I was thinking that very thing, but it still made me mad to think that Marvin would cop out like that. We don’t know the full story, but when they’re up to sharing, we’ll be there for them.”

  “Want that tea?”

  “No, sweetie. I want you to stay close to me. I thank God every day that you and I were able to have another chance at our marriage. Funny how it came to be,” Claudette said in a faraway voice. “If Kwame hadn’t thrown that cigarette into the waste-basket, our lives might have taken a different path. God has a way of getting our attention.”

  “Why don’t we get up and go to bed, Claudette? It’s two in the morning. We’ll be more comfortable.”

  “I want to stay here. Don’t ask me why. I’d like it a lot if you snuggled up with me on the couch, Mr. Beasley.”

  Tyrone smiled. He lifted Claudette’s braids from her face and watched as sleep overtook her. “Good night, Mrs. Beasley. Everything is going to be alright.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  The sudden realization that someone was in the room made Rachel sit up in the recliner that she had used as a bed. She brushed back her hair with her hands, then wiped her mouth as the image of a man in a white coat taking Marvin’s vitals filled her vision. Marvin was sitting up and looked well rested.

  “Didn’t mean to wake you, Mrs. Thomas,” said Dr. Campbell, a short man with graying temples. “Marvin here is going to be alright. I’ll complete his discharge papers, and you’ll be free to take him home.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Campbell. Thanks for all you’ve done to save my husband.”

  “That’s my job, ma’am. He’s going to need some TLC, and I’m going to leave that part to you.”

  Marvin didn’t say a word, but Rachel noticed that he managed a half smile. “I can handle that part.”

  Dr. Campbell turned to Marvin and patted him on the arm. “You can go ahead and get dressed. Your discharge papers should be ready in a few minutes. I’m going to give you a referral to our staff psychologist, and I’ve recommended at least three sessions to begin. I advise you to take it easy for a few days before trying to go back to work. In fact, I’m scheduling your first appointment with the psychologist for Monday. Do you have any questions?”

  Marvin looked from Dr. Campbell to Rachel. He let out a heavy sigh. “No...no, I don’t think so.”

  “Well, if you do, your wife has my number, and you can call me anytime. And I do mean anytime.”

  “Thanks, Dr. Campbell.” Marvin reached up and shook his outstretched hand.

  Dr. Campbell left the room and quiet ensued. The quiet was so constricting that Rachel almost gagged. She stood up to move close to Marvin, but he put out his hand for her to stop.

  “I can get dressed by myself,” he said.

  He slid off the side of the bed, pulling the hospital-issued robe around him, and moved to the chair that sat near the foot where his clothes were neatly folded. With hands clasped together, Rachel watched from where she stood, wanting to assist Marvin any way she could. His silence said something else—that he didn’t want to talk about it, that he wanted to be alone, that maybe he wished he had died.

  Tears appeared from nowhere and ran down her face. The feelings of rejection and helplessness were more than she could bear. Marvin seemed weak, sitting on the side of the bed to put his clothes on—his back to her. Rachel squeezed her lips together, willing the pain to stay inside and not erupt as it threatened to do. She had to be strong no matter what because God hadn’t spared Marvin’s life for her to leave him.

  Rachel sat in the chair and waited for Dr. Campbell to return and for Marvin to acknowledge her. She was his wife, for heaven’s sake, and she was already aware of what had brought him here.

  The door to the room opened and Dr. Campbell walked in. It was obvious that he felt the tension as he looked from Marvin to Rachel, Marvin sitting on the side of the bed and Rachel sitting in the recliner.

  “Is there something I can do?” Dr. Campbell asked, his tone gentle and considerate.

  Marvin shook his head no. Rachel got up and shook the doctor’s hand and took the papers he came to deliver.

  Dr. Campbell looked in her eyes. “If you need me for anything, call me.” He patted Marvin on the shoulder and left the room.

  “It’s time to go,” Rachel said, making an attempt to push past the awkwardness.

  Marvin stood up and came around the side of the bed. He looked at Rachel, and the tears began to flow from his eyes.

  “It’s alright, baby. I’m going to take care of you.”

  Marvin offered a faint smile and wiped his face. Then the door flew open one more time. “Wheelchair for the patient,” the attendant said, oblivious to the emotions that were running high. “I’m NASCAR bound, so you can have a fast ride or a slow one.”

  “Slow ride,” Marvin said. Rachel looked straight ahead. They would have plenty of time to talk later.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Ashley Jordan Lewis enjoyed the few hours she was able to leave her jail cell. While many of the women hung out in the yard and smoked cigarettes or played checkers, she found comfort in the gym or the library. In fact, she liked the library so much, she was allowed to work there for three to four hours a day.

  Reading was never her passion, but she found it stimulating, and soon became absorbed in suspense and mystery novels. She was also allowed to us
e the computer, cataloging books and checking to see what new releases were on the market. When no one was looking, she’d browse the internet to catch up on the latest news.

  Today was no different than any other day—the same powdered eggs and bacon for breakfast. Ashley usually sat alone in the chow hall, not comfortable around the hardened female inmates that were her neighbors of sorts. She didn’t even give a thought to the fact that her very own crime, labeled heinous and calculating, put her in the same category as the ones she feared. No, poisoning her husband to death was just not the same as pulling a trigger twenty-one times, one bullet for each year a woman on her cell block was married to an over-the-top abusive cop husband. Nor was it the same as the brutal ax murders of six men by a woman who picked up men on Interstate 75, had sex with them, and then put them out of their misery because they reminded her of her insane father who molested her as a child. No, the murder of her husband, William, was quick, easy, painless, and almost uneventful. He never knew what had happened, but that’s what he got for threatening her.

  Ashley put her empty tray away and headed for the library. Going to the library was like stepping into the sunshine or going on a small journey far away from Atlanta. She would get so absorbed in a book that she would allow herself to be transported to that particular place in time, becoming the characters she read about without acting out the scenes in the real. The library was virtually empty when she arrived, and that made her happy because she would have more time to herself.

  She placed the few books that had been returned back on their shelves, stopping long enough to flip through the first few pages of each one to see if it might be a book she wanted to read. When the books had been shelved, she went to the media lab, which was where she was assigned, and sat down at a computer.

  Skipping the library sites where she generally did her searches, Ashley went straight to the internet, which was already logged on through the system. World and local happenings dominated the home page of the internet server. Suddenly she jumped back and cupped her mouth with her hand at the picture that flicked on the screen.

  “Oh, my God,” Ashley said out loud. She looked around to see if anyone heard her, and when she was sure that no one had, she clicked the picture of Marvin Thomas. The headline was set in a bold, large font. The story read: Marvin Thomas, CEO of Thomas and Richmond Tecktronics, Inc., was found last evening slumped over his desk from an overdose of pain killers. He was found by his partner, Kenny Richmond, who called 911. Mr. Thomas was rushed to Mercy Hospital and treated. At press time, Mr. Thomas was said to be in fair condition.

  Ashley scratched her head and pulled her fingers through her blonde hair as she read the article over and over again. The article never stated why Marvin tried to take his life, but Ashley was dumbfounded and couldn’t believe that this was the same Marvin Thomas who was so positive about life and willing to help everyone who needed it. Thinking about Marvin made her think about the rest of the group, the Ex-Files, whom she hadn’t seen in several years except for Claudette who visited her on the regular. Claudette was her unsung Shero, having adopted her daughter—the daughter she conceived with her now dead husband and whom she’d feared would be rejected by her parents because of their hate for William because he was black. She owed Claudette a lot.

  Sunlight replaced the darkness that had engulfed the house only hours earlier, its brilliance so radiant that even the drapes that were wrapped around the double window, hanging by an antique rod, looked like an opening to a faraway place in a fairy tale. In fact, the light was so bright, Rachel shot up in the bed with a sudden realization that she had overslept. The digital numbers on the clock radio that sat on the nightstand read 11:25. Panic gripped her as she turned her head to look at the place where her husband was sleeping, only to find it empty.

  Rachel jumped to the floor, sliding her feet into her slippers. The quiet in the house turned her panic to fear as she realized she hadn’t heard the ramblings of Serena, who would have been climbing all over her, begging to watch television or requesting a bowl of cereal.

  Not bothering to wash her face, Rachel reached for her silk robe that hung on the back of the bathroom door. She rushed from the room calling Serena’s name, and when there was no answer, she took the stairs two at a time, stopping at the bottom. The sound of laughter met her ears.

  Creeping as if she was on the verge of surprising an intruder, Rachel tip-toed toward the sound of Serena’s voice coupled with that of her father. Rachel clasped her hands to her heart, the tension melting as she watched father and daughter entertain each other.

  “Hey,” Marvin whispered when he realized Rachel was standing at the entrance to the family room.

  “Hey yourself. Why didn’t you wake me and shouldn’t you be resting?” Rachel asked Marvin all in one breath. Serena ran to her and begged to be picked up, while Marvin remained propped up on one of the decorator pillows that dotted the couch.

  “I’m fine, Rachel, really. No need to fuss over me. I think I’m going to drive to the office today.”

  “Why? Today is Sunday. There’s nothing at the job that can’t wait until tomorrow if you choose to go there. Just take it easy, baby. You don’t know how much I worried about you.”

  Marvin stood up and looked into Rachel’s worried eyes. “Baby, I can’t say enough how sorry I am to have put you through this. At that moment, I just wanted to die—get away from the world.”

  “Marvin, don’t talk like that.”

  He kissed her forehead, and ran his hands through her hair. “You may never understand what I was going through or how I felt, Rachel. When you came into that restaurant the other day ranting and raving it was the last straw. I’m not blaming my actions on you, but it was almost confirmation for what I thought I needed to do—leave this world behind.”

  “Why didn’t you trust me enough to share?”

  Marvin shrugged his shoulders. “You’re not listening. Rachel, you are so emotional. You don’t take time to think things through and to ask yourself the what, the why, and the how. You just go off, and when you went off without me being able to give you an explanation, I knew that I had done the right thing in not confiding in you.”

  “But you confided in Yvonne. She’s not family.”

  “I didn’t totally confide in her. She was privy to a couple of letters I wrote that caused her to worry about her future. In the event that I wouldn’t be around to treat her to one more Secretaries Day luncheon, I elected to do it then. She didn’t have to say anything, and it made me feel at ease, that is, until you walked in.”

  “Wow” was all Rachel could say. “That hit below the belt.”

  “Didn’t mean to, but that’s the way it is. Look, how about I take my two favorite girls to dinner after I come back from the office?”

  “Ummm,” Rachel sighed. “If I can’t talk you out of staying home, Serena and I are going to accompany you to work.”

  “No, I need to go by myself.” Marvin kissed Rachel’s forehead again. “I need to sit and think about what I’m going to do.”

  “I thought you decided to sell the company?”

  Marvin held up his hand. “I don’t want to talk to you or anyone else about that at this moment. Baby, give me my space so I can work this out in my head.”

  Rachel backed away with her arms at her side. She felt as though her feelings had just been run over by a steamroller; stomped on and mashed down to the core. Moisture formed in her eyes and threatened to expose her, but she kept the tears at bay, at least until she was alone.

  All of a sudden her temples were pounding and her head felt like it was on fire. A fierce headache threatened to take her out, making her recoil and move swiftly toward the drawer that housed her migraine medicine. If she had to fight, she would.

  Rachel grabbed Serena by the hand and moved toward the kitchen, not bothering to look back at Marvin, who was looking at her. She felt his stare; it was like a leech, holding on for dear life while sucking the blood out of
her. It was better to let him go so he could sort out the complexities his life had become, because if she didn’t, next time the call might come from the coroner’s office. But she would be here if he needed her.

  Silence grabbed the air, choking out all sounds of life. And then there it was, a slight squeak and a sudden thud. Maybe Marvin didn’t plan to shut the door so hard, but then there was silence again.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Rachel wasn’t sure how long she had sat in the family room, but it was obvious she’d been there awhile. Thoughts of her outburst at the restaurant began to haunt her as guilt was getting the best of her. She wiped her mouth and blinked to clear her vision, relieved to see that Serena was still watching her Dora the Explorer video.

  Yawning, Rachel got up from the couch and stretched her arms realizing that she was still in her gown and robe. She glanced at the clock on the wall and couldn’t believe it was almost one o’clock.

  She waited until Serena’s video was over and turned off the television. “Come on, Serena. Mommy’s got to get out of her night clothes. I might as well wash some clothes while I’m at it and give Isabel a break.”

  Rachel showered and put on a pair of jeans and a loose-fitting, pink paisley top, something easy to work in. She brought the clothes basket to the wash room, stopping in each bathroom to grab dirty washcloths and towels. With Serena at her side, she went down to Marvin’s bathroom and gathered up his dirty linen and was about to go back upstairs when Serena called out to her.

  “Mommy, Mommy, look.”

  “What you got there?” Rachel asked, kneeling down to see what Serena kept tugging on that was stuck underneath the cushions on the couch in Marvin’s office. Rachel pulled up the leather cushion and threw it to the side, then stared at the couch with a puzzled look on her face.