Behind Closed Doors

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Behind Closed Doors Page 17

by Kimberla Lawson Roby

“What?” she said out loud. They had at minimum $2,500 in that account. She just knew he hadn’t messed around and withdrawn money from there as well. She picked up the third and fourth pages of the statement and searched down it. Sure enough, there had been a $500 withdrawal. A wave of heat flashed through her body. That brought the total to fifteen hundred. The man was crazy. Had to be, if he was doing some stupid shit like this. Instead of support group meetings, he needed psychiatric help.

  She went through the computer-driven procedure again and entered $2,000 as the amount to be transferred, and this time the automated teller accepted it. She hung up and sighed deeply. What if his name had been on her credit union account? He would really have showed his ass then. That was for sure.

  She lay back on the love seat and tried to relax. A million thoughts flickered through her mind, but one stood out loud and clear: Instead of paying bills with the $700 he’d just given her, she was going to seriously consider using it to file for a divorce.

  CHAPTER 16

  “GUESS WHO JUST CALLED to say they were on their way over to talk?” Regina asked Karen while taking a puff from her cigarette and repositioning the phone. She hadn’t smoked the whole time they’d been shopping yesterday, because she hadn’t wanted Karen to know she was strung out again.

  “Not Larry, I know.”

  “He sure did.”

  “What is it he wants to talk about?”

  “I don’t know, because he wouldn’t say. But I’ve got a feeling he’s come to his senses. He was sounding awfully pleasant. He even went as far as asking me how I’ve been doing.”

  “Are you going to take him back?”

  “I don’t know what to do. A part of me wants to, because quite obviously, I’m still in love with him, but the other part of me says he can’t be trusted, and that I should divorce him. I just don’t know.”

  “You have to do whatever you have to do, but I do think you need to think about this further before you make a final decision. He needs to understand that you’re the one running the show now, and not him.”

  “I know that’s right. Just yesterday, I was feeling like I could make it just fine without him, and now look at me, sitting here contemplating whether I should take the man back.”

  “Girl, you’re not doing anything that I’m not. I called John at his mother’s house this morning, because I really wanted to see him, and when he got here, he started rambling on about having a baby, and then to top that off, my bank statement came in the mail, and I found out he’d made two $500 withdrawals from checking and another for the same amount from savings. A whole fifteen hundred dollars. Can you believe that shit?”

  “No!” Regina said. “I know you’re lying, aren’t you?”

  “Oh, no I’m not. The man has lost it, and I’m through with him for good. I threw his ass out of here a couple of hours ago. I’m so pissed off, I don’t know what to do, and I’m seriously thinking about filing for a divorce. I just can’t take this shit anymore.”

  “Girl, please. You’d better push that idea right out of your mind, because there is no way you should be throwing your marriage away just like that. And anyway, he hasn’t gone gambling since he made those withdrawals, has he?”

  “No. At least, not that I know of. He even gave me most of his paycheck when he got here, but that’s beside the point, because the bottom line is that he hasn’t gone to one of those meetings. Things are not going to get better until he does, but he doesn’t seem to understand that.”

  “Well, at least give him until tomorrow. I mean, I know he’s messed up a lot of money, but it seems to me like he’s really been trying for the past two weeks.”

  “Shit, I’m tired of giving him chances, and as far as I’m concerned, he used his last one when he made those withdrawals from our bank accounts. I’m moving every dime out of the bank and into my credit union because there’s no telling what he might do as long as he knows he can get cash whenever he wants to.”

  Regina heard the doorbell ring. “Girl, that’s Larry,” she said excitedly. “I’ll call you as soon as he leaves.”

  “Good luck, and whatever you do, make sure he understands that he has to dance to your music if he wants you back.”

  “You know I will. Talk to you later,” Regina said and hung up the phone. She walked to the front door, smoothed her hair on each side, and opened the door.

  “How’s it going?” Larry asked, walking in dressed in a red polo shirt and a pair of black shorts.

  “Fine. How are things with you?” she asked, closing the door, following behind him to the family room.

  He took a seat on the sofa, and she sat in the oversized chair with her feet pulled partially under her butt. There was complete silence for at least half a minute.

  Regina decided to break the ice. “So, what did you want to talk to me about?”

  Larry forced his body to the edge of the sofa and clasped his hands together, looking straight ahead and away from Regina, almost as if he had something to say but wasn’t sure how to go about it. Finally, he spoke. “I really don’t know where to begin.”

  That was obvious. When he’d phoned, she was certain he’d come to his senses and was planning to beg his way back home, but now she wasn’t so sure. He was beating around the bush, and that wasn’t like him. But she decided not to jump to any conclusions until she heard exactly what he had to say. She continued to listen.

  He breathed deeply. “I guess there’s no easy way to do this, so I’ll just say what I have to say. I’m in love with Marilyn, we’re going to have a baby, and I’m filing for a divorce.”

  Regina swallowed hard, tightened the muscles in her face, and willfully repressed all of her emotions. She felt paralyzed and numb. Had she heard him right? She replayed what he’d just said to make sure there hadn’t been some sort of a mistake with the way she’d understood it. “What did you just say?”

  This time, he turned to look at her. “I’m in love with Marilyn, she’s pregnant, and we’re going to have a baby.”

  There hadn’t been any mistake at all. That bitch was really pregnant, and this motherfucker right here was the cause of it. She couldn’t believe he’d had the audacity to bring his low-down ass over there to announce some shit like that in person. But now that he had, she wanted to know how long he’d known about all of this. “How many months is she, Larry?”

  “Six weeks. It wasn’t something we planned. It just happened. You have to believe that.”

  “Oh, you mean like when you screwed her for the first time, and it was in our own fuckin’ bed? Is that what you mean? Things always seem to ‘just be happening’ when it comes to you and Marilyn, and to be honest, I don’t even want to hear that tired shit anymore.”

  “Hey, I’m sorry for all of this, but there’s nothing I can do to change it. You’re just going to have to accept that. The last thing I want to do is argue with you, and the only reason I came over here to tell you in person was because I felt I had a responsibility to do so. I didn’t think it was right for you to find out from somebody else or by accident.”

  “No, that’s not what your responsibility was at all. Your responsibility was to stay faithful to your wife, but you chose not to do that. We took vows before God and promised to spend the rest of our lives together, and you disregarded every bit of that. Were things so bad between us that you had to fall for some slut? And how in the hell are you going to be a daddy to some baby when you don’t even have what it takes to be a real husband?”

  “Why can’t we ever sit down and have a civil conversation like two intelligent adults? Damn,” he said, grabbing his keys from the table where he had laid them.

  “Fuck being civil. It’s too late for that shit. You see, while you were lying over there with that little back-stabbing bitch of yours, I was shedding tears, worrying my ass to death, and praying that you would leave her. And to think how stupid I was earlier, thinking you were on your way over here to make things right with me. Hell, I must have been ou
t of my damn mind.”

  “Look, I don’t want this divorce to turn into something ugly, because it doesn’t have to be that way. We can split everything up so that neither one of us gets the low end of the deal.”

  “You know what,” she said, standing up. “I want you to get your sorry ass out of here right now. Just looking at you makes me want to throw up. Get the fuck out,” she screamed, walking into the kitchen. The devil had led her in there and was advising her to grab the first butcher knife she could get her hands on, but at the same time, she heard what must have been an angel begging her to let this whole thing go. She didn’t know what to do.

  “I’ll have my attorney send you the divorce papers within the next couple of weeks,” he said. He walked toward the front door and pulled it open.

  Regina stormed out of the kitchen—fortunately, without any sharp weapons—and responded. “You can serve me with all the papers you want to, but I’m not signing a damn thing until I get good and ready. And you can forget about marrying Miss Marilyn before she delivers that baby of yours, because it ain’t happenin’, brother.”

  Larry walked out the door and slammed it.

  She was more furious now than before. Who in the hell did he think he was anyway, ignoring her like she was some puppet? She swung open the door and rushed outside, onto the edge of the lawn by the driveway. “When I get through with you, you’ll be wishing you’d never met me. And if you thought having a rock thrown through your car window was insane, well, just wait. When this is all over, you’ll be on your knees begging me to take your sorry ass back. Except, it won’t be happening.”

  He turned the ignition to the car and leaned out the window. “Whether you want to or not, you’re going to have to get over me. I’ve got who I want, and like I told you before, you’re just going to have to accept it. That’s just the way it is. And as far as all your little threats, you’re wasting your breath,” he said, rolling out of the driveway.

  She wanted to chase after him on foot, but since this was the neighborhood she did had to live in, she couldn’t clown nearly as bad as she had over at Marilyn’s on Monday. Her white neighbors would think she was some sort of a troublemaker, and it wouldn’t be long before they would start classifying her as being “just like the rest.” She couldn’t have that. She wanted them to know that there was such a thing as decent black people. She went back inside the house and shut the door.

  She dropped down on the oversized chair once again, stretched her feet out on the matching ottoman, and tried to keep up with all of the thoughts racing through her mind. Something wasn’t right. Here, Larry had told her he was in love with some slut, was expecting a baby, and was filing for a divorce within a couple of weeks, and for some strange reason, she really didn’t feel all that hurt. Sure, she was shocked, felt betrayed, and was angry as hell, but the feelings she was experiencing right at the moment weren’t nearly as bad as when she’d busted them in Atlanta or when she’d realized he’d moved in with Marilyn. Maybe she was in denial. Or maybe she’d only wanted to get back together with him because she still wasn’t crazy about the idea of being alone. She’d been asking God on a daily basis to give her the strength to get over Larry, and she wondered if that’s what was happening. Maybe her prayers had been answered without her even paying much attention.

  A part of her had wanted to get back together with Larry, but after seeing him and hearing his headline news, that idea was the furthest thing from her mind. She wouldn’t have him now if he were the last bastard on this earth. How she could fall in and out of love, be hurt one moment and enjoying herself the next, was beyond her. She’d been on an emotional roller coaster ever since this crazy shit had started and couldn’t wait for it to be over with.

  She took a deep breath and looked at the glass-shelved grandfather clock. It was just past six. Sitting around the house on a Saturday night was the last thing she wanted to do, and she wasn’t going to. Instead, she was going to spend the night out on the town and was taking Karen right along with her. They were both having marital problems and desperately needed a girls’ night out, anyway.

  She reached for the phone and hit the key for Karen’s number, which was programmed in the memory feature. As she waited for Karen to answer, she thought, “Hmmph. If Larry thinks he’s the only Negro with a dick between his legs, he’s dead wrong—and after tonight, I’m going to be the one to prove it to him.”

  CHAPTER 17

  “SHIT, WHEN WAS the last time we went out?” Regina asked Karen while entering I-90, heading east. It was half past ten o’clock, the traffic was fairly moderate, and they were still a few miles away from Le Club, which was located down in the Loop on Michigan Avenue.

  “I don’t know,” Karen said. “But it had to have been at least a year ago. And even then, we were out with those no-good men we’re married to. I’m so glad you called and said you wanted to go out. Shit, why should we sit at home all alone just because John and Larry are fucking up?”

  “Damn,” Regina said, laughing. “You’ve used that word more in the last couple of months than during the whole time I’ve known you. This gambling thing has brought the worst out in you, hasn’t it?”

  “Shit, you know how I am when it comes to money, and this thing with John is too much. I’m not having it, and he knows it. Just thinking about him makes me angry.”

  “I know I bring this up almost every time we talk, but I still say you should give him one more chance. I know you’re upset about those withdrawals he made, but maybe he’ll finally go to one of those meetings.”

  “But even if he does go, I still won’t trust him. Whenever he’s gone, I’ll think he’s at the track, and whenever he gets paid, I’ll always want to know where every dime of his money goes. I’d be giving him the third degree whenever he’s only a few minutes late coming home. What kind of life is that for me or him? Shit, that would be no different than suspecting that he was screwing around with some other woman.”

  “Girl, don’t even go there, because I can tell you from personal experience that gambling and adultery are far from being the same. Shoot, the way I see it, you should be counting your blessings, because at least John isn’t screwing around and having a baby by someone you once believed was your friend. If you ask me, that’s the type of shit you divorce somebody over.”

  “Don’t get me wrong, I do love John, but we can’t make it without money. Before you know it, bill collectors will be calling the house, and I’m not about to have that. If I wanted to struggle to pay bills all by myself, I would have stayed single. Shit, I already divorced one irresponsible Negro, so you know it wouldn’t be but a thing for me to do it again, if I had to.”

  “Please. You’re just upset about what happened earlier. Tomorrow will be a different day, and I guarantee you’ll think twice about divorcing him,” Regina said, pulling out her Capri cigarettes and pressing down the lighter on the dashboard of the Mercedes. Shit, Karen was going to find out sooner or later, anyway.

  Karen looked at her. “When did you start that back up?” she asked, already cracking her window.

  “Girl, I’ve been smoking my ass off ever since I came back from Atlanta. I just didn’t want you to know it. I thought I was going to die when we were at the mall yesterday. I didn’t have one the whole time.”

  “As hard as it was for you to give it up, I can’t believe you did that.”

  “Shoot, I just couldn’t help it. My nerves were shot, and smoking a cigarette was the only thing that kind of calmed me down. It’s a shame, I know, but there’s nothing I can do about it now,” Regina said, lighting her cigarette. As soon as she took the first puff, it dawned on her. The doctor had run tests for anemia earlier today, but that probably wasn’t why she’d been dizzy at all. More than likely it was these cigarettes.

  “You know, you sure are taking this pregnancy thing awfully well. If it were me, I think I’d be somewhere blowing somebody’s head off,” Karen said, thinking back on what Regina had told her whe
n she’d phoned earlier in the evening.

  “I just don’t feel like that for some reason. I wanted to kill both of them when we were over at Marilyn’s this week, but now I really don’t care about either one of them. All I want to do is get on with my life. One month ago, I would have died to be with Larry and would have done anything for him, but now, I really couldn’t care less. I still love him, but it’s not the same as it used to be. Atlanta was one thing, moving in with her was another, but getting her pregnant was the icing on the cake. They can have each other, because I’m through with the whole thing.”

  “What are you going to do about the house?”

  “Shit, I’m not hauling my butt anywhere until the divorce is final. Hell, why should I have to worry about finding somewhere to stay when he’s the one that moved his ass out in the first place?”

  “Yeah, but what about after the divorce is over?”

  “Who knows? I’ll probably rent a condo or something. But, I will say this, if he wants to keep the house, he’s going to have to pay me a huge settlement, because I’ll be damned if I’m going to let him move Marilyn’s ass in there just like that. And the divorce isn’t going to be as simple as he thinks, either. He’s been so caught up with Marilyn that he never stopped one time to think about what the consequences would be if he moved out on me the way he did. That motherfucker thinks he’s going to strut into some courtroom, divorce my ass, and live happily ever after, but when I counter his motion on the grounds of desertion, he’s going to wake up real fast. He even had the nerve to forward his mail over to Marilyn’s address. Any fool knows that the post office keeps a record of information like that. I mean, how stupid can one man be?”

  Karen laughed. “Are you serious?”

  “As a heart attack,” Regina said, taking a drag from her Capri. “Men are so naive sometimes.”

 

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