“I’ve got to come clean,” I said with finality. I didn’t have any other option. I couldn’t carry this guilt around.
“And why would you do something stupid like that?” Fran asked, perplexed. “You cleaned up the place, right?”
“Yes, but I should have called for help.”
“Why? You said yourself that he was dead. He was still going to be dead whether you reported it or not, so why should you get in trouble, too?”
We were interrupted by the doorbell. I froze as images of police bursting in to take me into custody flashed in my head.
I jumped up. “Who is that?”
“Calm down. It’s just Mavis.” Fran got up and headed toward the door.
Now I really was ready to run. My older sister was as bad as the police. Since our parents died in a car crash when I was in college, Mavis had taken over the role of mother and, most of the time, had taken it way too far. “Mavis? Why didn’t you tell me she was coming over here?”
“Because I didn’t know you were coming over. You were supposed to be going home, remember? Mavis was already on her way over to pick up some money I owe her. You know she’s like Tony Soprano when it comes to getting her money back.”
I took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves. “Don’t tell her,” I said. “I can’t take her judging me.”
Fran put her hand to her mouth. “Oops, too late.”
“Ugh, do you have to tell everybody everything?”
“I was on the phone with her when you called, and she wanted to know what was wrong. I tried to tell her nothing, but she didn’t believe me. I told you, she’s Tony Soprano. She strong-armed me.”
The doorbell rang again, and we heard Mavis’s muffled call. “I hear y’all in there. Open this door!”
Fran shrugged at me, then opened the door.
Mavis didn’t even speak to Fran as she rushed toward me. She looked so much like my mother it was eerie—full-figured, beautiful smooth skin, and a head full of naturally curly hair. If I didn’t know better, I would think it was my mother coming to be by my side.
I took a step back because my sister had been known to smack me back in the day, and I didn’t need her having any flashbacks. But she just grabbed me and hugged me tightly. “Oh, Lord, Felise. What have you gotten yourself into?”
I couldn’t help it. Being in my sister’s arms felt safe, even though I knew I was far from that. “I messed up, Mavis,” I cried.
“Yes, you did, baby girl,” she said, stroking my hair, “but it’s going to be okay.” She pulled back and examined me. “So, what did the police say?”
I looked over at Fran and didn’t respond.
“See, my mouth isn’t that big. I didn’t tell her everything.”
Mavis’s eyes grew wide. “Tell me what? What is there to tell?”
Neither Fran nor I said a word. Mavis’s hands went to her hips. “I know somebody better get to talking.” She narrowed her eyes at me. “What did the police say?”
“I–I . . .”
“She left without reporting it, okay?” Fran said.
“Excuse me?” Mavis asked in horror. “You left the scene of a crime?”
“Mavis, leave her alone,” Fran snapped. “There was no crime. He died in his sleep. I got this handled.”
Mavis threw up her hands in exasperation. “You don’t need to be listening to Fran. You know she got the devil in her.”
Fran gave Mavis the hand. “You better go somewhere with that, or you’re about to see the devil rear its ugly head.”
“So, you really think I should tell that I was there, Mavis?” I asked.
“Girl, don’t listen to Mavis,” Fran said. “Tell for what?”
Mavis sat down next to me. She had a way of adding things up quick, and I could see that turning myself in was no longer her first option. “I can’t tell you what to do, Felise,” she replied, taking my hand. “I’d never be in that situation because no way I’d get involved with my best friend’s husband—”
“Way to make her feel better, Mavis,” Fran said, cutting her off.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” Mavis clarified. “What I’m saying is I can’t tell you how I would react, but I can tell you one thing: what’s done in the dark always comes to light.”
“Not always,” Fran said. “Because nobody still knows about that time you and Elijah Reynolds—”
“Fran, would you shut up,” Mavis snapped. “This isn’t about me.” She turned her guns back on the guilty party. “Whatever you do, sis, you need to take to your knees and repent.”
“Okay, on that note, I need to go,” I said, rising. I felt bad enough as it was. The last thing I needed was Mavis preaching to me.
“See,” Fran said, “you always bringing God into the equation. Now you got her all spooked.”
“Honey, God is always in the equation,” Mavis replied, “whether I bring Him or not.”
I knew how this was going to go, and I couldn’t do the two of them bickering right then. That’s all they’ve been doing for as long as they’ve been alive. Usually, I played the peacemaker, but I was so not in the mood.
“Okay,” I said. “Both of you are right. Mavis, I need to pray. And Fran, I do need to pull it together.”
They both nodded their heads in agreement.
“So, do you want to tell me how you ended up in the hotel room with Steven?” Mavis asked.
I shook my head. I wasn’t standing for Mavis’s opinion on what happened between us.
“She just finally got fed with the neglectful husband of hers,” Fran replied.
Fran liked Greg, but she’d been telling me for years that I deserved better. She couldn’t stand his obsessive ways and how he devoted so much time to work.
“So how long have you and Steven been having an affair?” Mavis asked.
“We weren’t having an affair,” I protested. “We both happened to be in the same place. We both were upset at our spouses. We had been drinking.”
Mavis tsked. “Unh-huh, that devil’s juice will do it every time.”
Fran rolled her eyes as I continued. “I tried to turn away once I got to the room, but it’s like this little voice was pushing me forward.”
“Unh-huh. Satan has a little voice,” Mavis said.
“Okay, Pope Mavis,” Fran interjected. She turned to me. “Seriously, pray about it, ask for forgiveness, and move on. You’re not doing anyone any good if you keep beating yourself up about it.”
“I agree,” Mavis said sternly. “I’m not going to tell you what you need to do, but you need to come clean.”
“No, she doesn’t,” Fran said.
“You know it’s the right thing to do,” Mavis continued. “You don’t need me or Fran to tell you that.” She patted my arm. “But whatever you do, I’m by your side, okay? Even if it’s seeing you through divorce court and your trial.”
“Mavis!” Fran exclaimed.
Mavis quickly apologized. But she was right. That’s exactly where I’d be if Greg ever found out.
10
Paula
I’D FINALLY GONE TOO FAR. In all our years of marriage, Steven had never gotten so mad that he’d stayed out all night, let alone all the next day. But as I rolled over and saw my husband’s untouched side of the bed, I realized that’s exactly what had happened.
After spending the day with the kids, I’m come into my room to lie down, hoping Steven’s warm body would wake me up as he eased into bed next to me. He’d apologize. I’d apologize. Then I’d show my husband how much I really loved him.
I threw back the covers and stood up. It was almost ten p.m. I couldn’t believe I’d been asleep all evening. I eased downstairs, hoping that Steven had come in and didn’t want to wake me. But to my dismay, the living room was empty, the space where he normally dropped his keys was clear, and when I opened the garage door, my heart sank when I realized that his car still was AWOL.
I fell back against the wall in the hallway. I couldn
’t take the suspense anymore. I had the strangest feeling in my gut that I had truly messed up this time, and I didn’t know how to make it right.
I said a small prayer for God to deliver my husband home. I’d adopt a new attitude permanently. My mom was right. I had been such a jerk, and the blowup I had was completely uncalled for.
I was just about to pick up the phone to call him again when my mom appeared in the kitchen entryway.
“Oh, hey, Mom,” I said dejectedly. “What’s going on?”
“Heard some movement in here and came to see what was going on, since I knew the kids weren’t here.”
“Where are the kids?” I asked.
“Tahiry went over Liz’s so they can practice for their cheer competition. Rodney came and got the boys and took them to a movie,” she said, referring to Steven’s cousin, who often took the kids. “I figured it was okay and a way to get them out the house. He’ll bring them back early in the morning on his way to work. And Tahiry will be back whenever you go get her.”
I nodded, grateful for her making the arrangements.
“Are you okay? Is Steven home yet?” my mom asked.
I fell down in one of the seats at the kitchen table. “Mama, I really messed up,” I cried. “Steven has never stayed away this long.”
“Maybe he was really upset. I mean, the threat of divorce is pretty major.”
“But I didn’t mean that. I was just angry,” I confessed. “I was having a serious I-hate-my-life-moment and thinking things would be better without him.”
My mom patted my hand sympathetically. “Yeah, that’s usually the way things work. Everyone always thinks the grass is greener on the other side. But it’s not. You got a good man, honey, and you have to realize that before it’s too late.”
“Steven wouldn’t go anywhere, would he?” I don’t know why, but I no longer believed that.
“Baby, a man can take only so much. When he doesn’t feel loved in his own home, it’s just a matter of time before he seeks love somewhere else.”
I buried my face in my hands. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
My mom was quiet for a minute, then gently said, “Well, I was talking to this lady at bingo and I think you’re suffering from postpartum depression.”
I cocked my head at this unexpected remark. “Really, Mom?”
“Yes, really. I mean, you were unhappy before, but it seemed to go to a whole different level after the twins were born.”
That reminded me all over again of my fight with Steven. “I know, Mama. I love them, I really do, but I can’t shake this.” Postpartum depression? I had never thought about that. But it would definitely explain my mood swings.
“You gotta find a way to shake it,” my mom said. “Maybe even see someone professionally. Or go to your primary care doctor. I’m sure they got some pills for it.” She turned her attention to a picture of our family, which was displayed prominently on our refrigerator. “And explain it to your husband. I’m sure he’ll understand and even help you through this.”
I nodded, praying that she was right.
“Just get some rest. I’m sure you’re still tired, so go lay back down. That was a pretty heated argument, so just give Steven a minute. You got a good man. He’s not going anywhere. You asked the man for a divorce. Maybe he just wants to make you sweat. I’m positive he’ll be home tonight.” My mom kissed my forehead before walking out the room.
I hoped that she was right, but I still needed to talk to someone else. I needed to call the only other person who understood my pain. I picked up the phone and called my best friend
Felise and I went way back. She was my ride or die. We drifted apart when we went to college, but our bond was never broken. The only time things got a little shaky with us was when I first started dating Steven. She seemed distant, like she was trying to avoid me. Some people would say I broke the girlfriend code by dating him, but she assured me that they were merely friends. I made it very clear that I wasn’t going to do anything without her blessing, and she gave it to me. I’d even fought my feelings for Steven in the beginning. But when Felise found her own happiness with Greg, what was holding me back?
Felise didn’t answer, and my heart sank. I needed to talk to her. So I dialed again. And again. She knew if I called back-to-back, it was an emergency.
I was grateful when she finally picked up the phone. “Hey, Felise, I’m sorry to be blowing up your phone, but I need to talk to you.”
She hesitated, then said, “You want to talk to Tahiry? Her and Liz are upstairs turning flips.”
I didn’t know why she would say that. If I wanted to talk to my daughter, I would’ve called her cell phone. “No. I need to talk to you.”
She still sounded brittle as she said, “What’s going on?”
I opened my mouth to talk, and a sob came out instead. When I recovered from the outburst, I said, “I think I really messed up this time.”
“What do you mean?”
“Me and Steven had a huge fight. He hasn’t come home since. I haven’t even heard from him,” I said.
“What do you mean, you haven’t heard from him?” she asked.
“He didn’t come home last night or all day today, and you know that’s not like him. The fight was really bad.”
“Maybe he’s somewhere trying to cool off.”
“Do you think he left me?” I asked pointedly.
“Wh-why would you say that?” she replied.
“Because I asked him for a divorce.”
“A divorce? Why would you ask him for a divorce?”
She was sounding too cool, like she already knew all about it. But I didn’t have time to decipher her demeanor. I was in the middle of a crisis. “I know it’s crazy. I was just frustrated and upset. I don’t want a divorce. I love my husband.”
Felise continued to sound distant as she said, “Well, I’m sure everything is fine. He’ll probably be home in a little bit.”
Even she didn’t sound like she believed that. “You know this is completely unlike him,” I continued. “Even when he’s mad, he still comes home. I think I might have gone too far this time. What if he’s with a divorce attorney right now?”
“Don’t be silly,” she replied. “It’s ten-thirty at night. He’s not with a divorce attorney. And no, you didn’t go too far. I mean, he’s probably— He’s probably somewhere, you know, just cooling off.”
I shook my head, desperation setting in. “His phone is going straight to voice mail, and he didn’t even call to check on the kids. He’s gone. My gut is telling me he left me.”
“Come on, don’t think like that,” Felise said. I could tell my best friend was trying to pacify me, prepare me for the worst, because she sounded like she knew that I’d finally pushed Steven over the edge. She’d been trying to tell me to ease up on him, and I wouldn’t listen.
“Everyone has fights,” Felise continued in a flat monotone. “You guys, umm, you are gonna be fine.”
She didn’t sound like she believed that. And now neither did I.
11
Felise
I TOOK A DEEP BREATH as I dropped my cell phone down on the kitchen table. Keep it together, I said, repeating what I’d been telling myself all day. I’d been doing okay until now. That phone call from Paula had shaken me to my core. I’d tried to ignore her calls, but she was relentless, and I knew if I didn’t answer, she’d get in her car and head over to my house. No way could I see her face-to-face. When Greg had returned from his coffee run this morning and he had Tahiry by his side, I thought I would pass out from guilt. I couldn’t look my godchild in the eye. No way would I be able to face her mother. Greg had tried to talk to me about last night, but I was saved by a call from my supervisor. Two nurses had called in sick, and she asked me to cover their shifts. I changed into my scrubs and was out the door so fast I could have been running in the Olympics.
I breathed a sigh of relief when I came in the living room and saw it was empty.
Greg’s car was in the driveway, but maybe he was asleep. Yet as soon as I felt myself try to relax, I heard his voice behind me.
“Babe, I am so sorry.”
I spun around to see him standing in the hallway, an apologetic look on his face, a bouquet of roses in his hands.
“I was so scared you weren’t going to come home.” He held the flowers out toward me. “I know this won’t make up for me being a jerk, but I want to make it up to you.”
My body trembled as I fought back tears, which made Greg pull me into his arms.
“Baby, don’t cry. I’m so sorry. I’m gonna work on being a better husband. I promise.”
I knew I needed to pull myself together, so I nodded dutifully.
“How about I take you out tomorrow night?” he asked.
An entire evening alone together? “No,” I sniffed. “I have to work the four-to-twelve shift.”
I dropped my purse on the floor. Like clockwork, Greg immediately picked it up and set it on the counter.
That was the least of my concerns. Right then I just wanted to get away from him, shower, and try to pull myself together. I made my way upstairs and had another urge to cry when I walked into the bathroom. Greg had taken Post-it Notes and posted messages all over my bathroom mirror.
I pulled one off.
I’m sorry.
Then another.
I love you.
And two more.
Please forgive me.
I’m trying.
The fact that he’d cluttered up the whole mirror meant a lot. Seeing the clutter had to drive him crazy. And that deviation from his strict routine made me cry even harder.
Feeling miserable, I shed my scrubs and stepped in the shower. The hot water mixed with my warm tears as I tried to cry everything out of my system. All day I had wondered if the maids had discovered Steven yet. I played out all kinds of scenarios, from it being ruled a simple death by natural causes to the FBI coming in and taking me down.
When I got out the shower, I knew I was a wrinkled prune, but I did feel a little bit better. Fran was right. I was going to have to get past the guilt. I was going to have to learn to live with what I’d done.
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