Lies and Alibis

by Warren, Tiffany L.

  “Turn right!” Hailey blurts. “She just turned right.”

  I jackknife the Nissan Altima into a ninety degree angle right turn. Suddenly, we’re at the entrance to a gated town house community. I watch as the Lexus SUV rolls over the speed bumps and through the gate.

  “What are we going to do now?” My heart sinks as I ask this rhetorical question. I don’t really expect Hailey to have a plan.

  Hailey replies. “Just drive. I got this.”

  “You got what?”

  I turn to look at Hailey and my eyes widen with shock. She’s unbuttoning the top of her blouse.

  “What are you going to do? Strip for the guard?”

  “Not strip, but I will flash him if I have to. We’re famous wives of celebrities, honey. We can do this.”

  “I don’t know…”

  Hailey narrows her eyes at me. “I did not spend my spa day afternoon camped outside of someplace called Booty Meat for us to just drive back to Atlanta without answers. Now drive the car, Dionne!”

  Since I can’t think of a better plan than Hailey’s crackpot scheme, I drive up to the guard shack. The guard is…a woman. Rats.

  I roll down the window and Hailey leans over to speak. “I’m Hailey Claiborne and my husband is NFL star Rory Claiborne. Do you know who he is?”

  The hard looking sista nods once. She looks like the type of woman who might enjoy Hailey’s flash show, but I refuse to make eye contact. I don’t want her to remember my face.

  “Well,” Hailey continues, “his aunt lives here and he asked me to check in on her.”

  “Name? Unit number?”

  Hailey pauses. I guess she hasn’t thought this far ahead in the plan.

  Hailey lets out a big sigh. “Okay. Here’s the deal. My husband is a cheater, and he’s holed up here with some silicone-injected stripper.”

  She pulls out a camera that I didn’t know she’d brought.

  “I just need to get proof,” Hailey continues, “so that when I get a divorce my children and I will be okay. Dirty bastard made me sign a prenup.”

  The guard gives the tearful Hailey a sympathetic look. “Do you know the name of the…stripper?”

  “I don’t know her real name. Only her stripper name. She’s called Peach or Nectarine or something stupid like that.”

  The guard’s eyebrows went up. “Well, ma’am, I’m so sorry about your cheating husband, but I can’t allow you to just come into our community.”

  “I understand,” Hailey replies. “I guess we just have to leave then.”

  “Right. I can’t just let you in. But…if one of our residents happens to drive up…a person might be able to drive in while the gate is still open.”

  Hailey beams at the homely security guard. “Thank you! Thank you so much!”

  I back away from the gate and pull over to the side, where we can wait for the next legitimate resident to return home.

  “A stripper driving a Lexus, wearing Louboutins and living in an exclusive gated community? What’s really going on?” I ask.

  Hailey replies. “Trust me, it seems glam on the outside, but any of those girls would kill to have what you and I have.”

  “What? Cheating husbands?”

  “No. Husbands period.”

  Finally, another car pulls through the gate. We follow behind, almost bumper to bumper.

  “Which way did Peach go?” I ask.

  “She made a left as soon as she turned in. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find her easily. We know what her car looks like.”

  After driving through the maze of streets several times, I feel like I’m going in circles.

  “We’re never gonna find her spot. This was not a good plan.”

  Hailey squeals. “Look! At the top of that hill! Isn’t that Rod’s red lambo?”

  My heart stops. I literally feel the muscle that lives in the center of my chest as it stops functioning. The blood drains from my face as horror moves about my insides and takes up shop.

  “Are you going to drive up there?” Hailey asks.

  “I…uh…um…”

  “Are you okay?” Hailey asks.

  Her voice sounds distant as I struggle to hear and formulate words.

  “Dionne! Are we going to bust Rod and this hoochie or not?”

  Suddenly my heart begins to pump again. The oxygen flows to my major organs, and all vital life functions recommence.

  “We are going to bust them. Yes. We. Are.”

  I floor the gas pedal and the tires squeal as we fly up the hill toward the unmistakable gleam of Rod’s custom manufactured Lamborghini. No one in the world has that particular shade of red with undertones of orange and brown. It’s not exactly fire engine red, but a warmer version that reminds me of blood.

  It’s appropriate too, because Rod is nothing but a bloodsucking vampire. He’s sapped all the life out of me. So much so that I can’t even conceive a baby – the one thing that will save me from Rod and his cheating ways.

  Here is Rod’s car parked right next to the silver Lexus truck. We’ve definitely found the right townhouse, but there’s no sign of Rod or Peach anywhere.

  “Park in that driveway over there,” Hailey says. “It’s for sale.”

  I slowly back into the driveway until I’m right in front of the garage. “We’re going to have to get out, and go look into a window or something.”

  “Get out?” Hailey asks. “I thought we were doing this from inside the car. You didn’t say anything about getting out.”

  “There’s no one outside. I need more proof before I can say that Rod is cheating for sure.”

  “What more proof do you need? His car is here, parked at the hooker’s townhouse. Isn’t that enough?”

  I shake my head. “No. It’s not enough. She’s his artist, so he can explain being here. I need to know for sure if he’s cheating.”

  “Okay…say you get your evidence. Then what are you going to do? It’s not like you’re going to leave him.”

  I ignore Hailey’s question and get out of the car. It doesn’t matter that I’m not sure what I’ll do. But not knowing the truth isn’t an option. I’ve heard rumor after rumor that Rod has been able to explain away with slick talk, but I’ve never been able to catch him red handed. That’s what today is about.

  I almost wish I’d asked my baby sister Sydney to do this with me instead of Hailey, especially if I find out something that will tear me up on the inside. Hailey’s not the type of person you bawl your eyes out to.

  As I march down the gravel driveway wearing heels (not the best shoe choice for stalking) I contemplate my next steps. If I find out that Rod is here doing music, then everything is cool. I won’t trip. But if not…

  “Haven’t they ever heard of asphalt in Alabama?” Hailey hisses as she struggles to catch up with me, in her strappy sling back sandals.

  I survey the front yard from across the street. Zero activity, so they must either be indoors or in the back.

  “Come on, Hailey. Let’s do this.”

  We cross the street as stealthily as two divas in heels can, and take off running for the side of the house where the shadows provide some cover. It’s hot as hell fire out here, so just a little shelter from the sun helps.

  “Remind me to send my personal assistant with you on the next one of your missions,” Hailey says as she picks a pebble from between her toes.

  I hold up one finger to my lips to shush Hailey. I hear Rod’s voice and my heart sinks. He’s laughing. It’s a joyful laugh that I recognize, but haven’t heard in a long, long, time.

  “Is that Rod?” Hailey whispers.

  I nod slowly. “I think it’s coming from outside. The back of the house maybe.”

  We follow the wall to the rear of the house to a solid oak patio and deck. I push Hailey back some, so that we’re not seen. Then, I point to some low bushes where we can observe safely.

  On our hands and knees, we crawl over to the bushes, to spy on the trollop and my husband.
r />   Rod’s laughter rings out again. “That’s daddy’s baby!” he says.

  “He’s got that trick calling him daddy?” Hailey asks in an irritated whisper.

  I can’t reply, because I’ve covered my mouth with my hand to stifle a scream.

  Daddy’s baby is not the tramp. It’s a little girl of about three years, showing off with a purple hula hoop. When the toy finally falls to the ground, the little girl bursts into tears. I sit and watch, in abject horror, as my husband scoops the little girl into his arms and rocks her back and forth.

  I’m too stunned to cry; too horrified to even move. I am not prepared for this. I had my mind prepped to see Rod freaking on a stripper, or maybe even laying up with her. But this…a child…when a baby is all that I want from him? My insides feel as if they’ve come unglued.

  “Oh my word,” Hailey says, finally catching on to the scene. “Girl, let’s go. We’ve got to regroup and come up with another kind of plan.”

  Regroup? Plan? I can’t even contemplate my next breath, let alone plot revenge.

  “Dionne, honey, we’ve got to go. You don’t want Rod to see you out here. Not until you’ve done the necessary.”

  I shake my head with a lack of understanding, but I do let Hailey drag me away from that house and that horrific scene.

  Daddy’s baby.

  I’ve been one-upped by a skanky, trashy, booty shaking broad. Right under my nose, my husband has been making babies with a bottom barrel rhymes-with-witch.

  Hailey turns on the radio. Bumps Jay-Z through the speakers, bobs her head back and forth with the beat.

  “Come on girl,” she says. “You need to feel this right here!”

  I close my eyes as the loud bass line and melodic hook of Hard Knock Life whisk me away from this nightmarish afternoon.

  I may not know what the necessary is, but I’m dang sure ready to let it occur.

  ~6~

  Camille

  I won! I won! I won!

  The jackpot at my afternoon bingo session had my name on it! And I went in there and claimed it.

  Those other thirsty, old blue-haired biddies thought they were going to get my blessing. But thus said the Lord and the Lord said, “No!” Somebody better shout glory up in here!

  Twenty-five thousand dollars and it’s all mine. Well, minus the twenty-five hundred I’m giving as a tithe on Sunday. I’ve got to be faithful in my giving. That’s what got me this blessing in the first place.

  My entire body tingles at the thought of cashing that check. That seditty teller who treated me like crap just because I had an overdraft is going to have to bow down. I am a child of God, so I won’t treat her rudely even though she deserves it. I am a Christian woman, and I’m just glad that the Lord is allowing me to see His perfect work.

  God is a good god.

  I just hope my husband is feeling some of the Lord’s grace and mercy tonight. I didn’t quite make it to choir rehearsal this evening. The drawing for the jackpot wasn’t going to happen until seven o’clock, and I just had to stay there for that. You had to be present to win, and if I hadn’t stayed, well…we wouldn’t have the money to pay our electric bill this month.

  Like I said, God is good, and He’s faithful. He sent a word through His prophetess and I believed it. But it’s not enough to just believe it. You’ve got to act on that thing.

  Faith is a verb, right?

  I pull into my driveway and push the button on my garage door opener. Nothing happens. Then, I notice that Bryan’s car is parked outside. Hmmm…maybe the garage door is broken. It’s a good thing I’ve got this cashier’s check in my purse, because we sure didn’t have the money for a repair.

  Since I can’t go in through the garage door, I go around to the front door and let myself in.

  The entire house is pitch black, so I hit the light switch. Nothing.

  Oh, no…I thought I had until Monday on that disconnection notice.

  “Camille, is that you?” I hear Bryan’s voice in the darkness.

  “Yes, honey.”

  “Don’t you honey me!” Bryan roars. “Why are the lights off?”

  I’ve never heard Bryan sound this angry. Butterflies flit nervously around my stomach. “Maybe there’s a power outage.”

  “There’s no power outage Camille. Why didn’t you pay the electric bill? I gave you the money two weeks ago.”

  I’m glad that Bryan can’t see me, because I’m trembling all over. He wasn’t supposed to find out that I didn’t spend the money on the bill.

  “It must’ve…it must’ve slipped my mind.”

  Bryan’s hoarse laugh slices through the dark. The sound of his soulless tone makes me afraid. I really did mean to pay the bill, but I was trying to win the jackpot.

  Bryan says, “I would believe that if the money…my money…was still in the bank. But I checked the balance on my phone, and guess what?”

  I assume this is rhetorical so I remain quiet.

  “Guess, Camille! Guess!” Bryan’s voice now resembles that of the frantically insane.

  “The money wasn’t there?” I ask.

  Bryan claps loudly, the sounds echoing through the silent house. “Congratulations! You win a cookie. Too bad I can’t find one because it’s dark as night in here.”

  “Bryan, I’m sorry. I’ll take care of it tomorrow.”

  “How, huh? How are you going to do that? The money is gone. What did you spend it on by the way?”

  “I don’t know. Probably groceries or something like that. I’ll get the money from Sydney tomorrow.”

  Perhaps that was the perfect opportunity for me to tell Bryan about my winnings, but I don’t think he’s in the mood to receive our blessing. I’ll just pay the bill, and then tell him about my winnings later.

  “I don’t want your sister giving us money. I will get it from pastor first thing in the morning.”

  Pastor! I can’t have Bryan telling the pastor that our electricity is shut off. We’re not beggars. We don’t have to be. The Lord has just blessed us over and abundantly.

  “Bryan, please. Just let me take care of it.”

  “Let you take care of it? I did let you take care of this and all of our other bills. Obviously, you couldn’t handle the pressure, because I’m sitting here. In. The. Dark.”

  “I’ve got the money, Bryan. I just won twenty five thousand dollars at bingo this evening.”

  Now I wait for the celebration to begin. Just saying the words “twenty five thousand dollars” make me want to shout! Surely, Bryan can get past this minor inconvenience to rejoice in our victory.

  “Is that where you were instead of choir rehearsal?” Bryan asks.

  “Um, yes. That’s where I was. It went long this evening. But aren’t you happy about our financial blessing?”

  Bryan releases a weary-sounding sigh. “We wouldn’t need all these financial blessings and breakthroughs if you were a good steward of our money from the start.”

  A good steward? Bryan really doesn’t want to start throwing stones. Not when his house is constructed with the thinnest of glass. He might not be reckless with our money, but he’s reckless with everything else – including his baby maker. So he can keep all that self-righteousness to himself.

  “This is what you’re going to do Camille. Tomorrow, you’re going to pay all of our outstanding bills. Then, you’re going to take the rest of your blessing and donate it to the church.”

  I don’t reply. I can’t answer him. The Lord blessed me with this money. He blessed us with it. If the church needed this, I don’t believe God would’ve made it come through my hands. Not when we need so much and have so little. No one told me that a marrying a minister of music was a ticket to poverty.

  “Camille, do you understand what I’m asking you to do?”

  I don’t reply, and Bryan can’t see the furious expression on my face in the dark. I’ve never disobeyed my husband. Not in all the years of our marriage have I deliberately gone against his wishes.
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br />   I suppose there is a first time for everything.

  ~7~

  Sydney

  I just lost a patient. Her name was Mrs. Exum. Interesting how you immediately start thinking of someone in past tense as soon as they die. But even though she's in heaven now isn't her name still Mrs. Exum? I think so. Her name is Mrs. Exum; she was ninety-three years old and had come into the ER with complications stemming from a quadruple bypass. A nasty infection that left fluid on her lungs.

  Saying those words, time of death, always jolt me to the core. It's unnatural to announce someone's death in a room full of hospital staff. It is a moment that demands reverence, stillness and maybe even silence. But it is never silent in the ER.

  I wasn't ready for someone to die on me this morning. I only woke up two hours ago, and I haven't even had caffeine.

  After comforting and receiving comfort from Mrs. Exum's family, I escape to the cafeteria. I need to talk to Dionne. She always cheers me up when I'm having this kind of a day.

  On walking into the cafeteria, I spy out the available tables. There is a group of first year interns in the center of the room. Newbies. I'm not plopping myself down anywhere near them. They all try to make friends with residents so that they can get included in interesting cases. They don't realize that we have only a little bit more clout than they do. The attending doctors get to make all of the decisions. We just get in where we fit in.

  In the corner by the window are the nurses. I can hear their cackling from the cafeteria entrance, and although I would usually welcome their banter and gossip, I'm not in the mood this morning. I choose, instead, a table at the very back of the cafeteria.

  I plop down in the hard plastic chair and speed dial Dionne. She picks up on the first ring.

  “Hey, Syd...”

  Instantly, I know there's something wrong with my big sister. I can tell by the sound of her voice.

  “Dee, what's wrong? What did Rod do this time?”

  “It's...okay. I'm cool. What's going on with you?”