“She told Sonya Visor that I said Monica Jackson’s brother would never go out with her because she was too fat, so then Sonya got on Kik and told everybody in the world that I wanted to go out with Andrew Cooper, but he wouldn’t do it because he said my head was too big and I had a body odor.”
I fought the urge to ridicule her ninth-grade problems. “Sweetie, you don’t hate Chelsea, especially over some he-said, she-said stuff. What did Chelsea have to say about all of this?”
“I don’t know.” Tahiry poked her lips out. “I didn’t talk to her. I’m never talking to her again.”
“First of all, you have to talk to her. You have to get her side.”
Tahiry raised an eyebrow. “Why do I have to do that?”
“Because what if this is all a misunderstanding? And not only do you have to get her side, but if she did do it, you have to find it in your heart to forgive her.”
Tahiry rolled her eyes, like that was the craziest thing she’d ever heard of.
“She’s supposed to be my friend. Why would she go talking about me?”
“You’re supposed to be her friend, and you’re not even giving her the benefit of the doubt,” I replied. She saw some sense in that, and I continued, “You guys have been friends since the third grade. You have to find a way to forgive her.”
“Forgive her? That’s not going to happen. I do like Andrew. But he’s never going to ask me out now after she put me on blast like that.”
I let some sternness enter my voice. “First of all, he doesn’t need to ask you out because you’re too young to date.”
“Uggh. Mom, you’re missing the point,” she protested.
“Second,” I continued, “any guy that is interested in you is not going to let some stupid post change his mind.”
She stopped short, like she was thinking about what I said.
I patted her hand. “Honey, people make mistakes, they do selfish things, and even intentionally try to hurt one another. It’s going to happen. But you owe it to your friendship to try to work past the problems. Don’t throw away years of friendship over a single mistake.” I brushed my fingers along her cheek. “Talk to her.”
She paused. “You really think I should?”
I nodded. “Nothing should come in the way of good friends.”
Tahiry finally smiled. “I’m going to call her now.” She stood. “Thanks, Mom. You’re the best.”
I smiled as she darted off. Then I went back to party planning for my own best friend. I couldn’t wait for the day when Tahiry could know true friendship like that I shared with Felise.
51
Felise
GOD HAD TRULY TURNED OUR family around. While I knew I had a long road ahead with Greg, we were truly on the right track. I think seeing that Liz was okay helped the healing. Greg was still standoffish, and I could see the pain in his eyes every time we talked, but he was trying. He’d returned to our bedroom last night, and we’d made love. The sex was passionate, almost angry, but I knew he was feeling all kinds of mixed emotions, so I let him release his frustrations in the bedroom. I was just grateful to be with him again. I was grateful for his ability to forgive.
And this—my surprise birthday party—that he’d carefully planned hammered home how there could be healing after hurt.
Liz seemed like she understood. She was with Tahiry tonight. At first, I was nervous about that, but she’d assured me that she wouldn’t tell Tahiry what had happened. Sabrina was still a potential problem and part of why I knew, despite what Greg said, I was going to have to come clean with Paula. And since Sabrina would be expecting another payment soon, I was going to have to do that sooner rather than later.
Tonight, though, I wanted to focus all my attention on my party—the first glimpse at happiness I’d had in a long time.
“If I may have everyone’s attention, please?”
I smiled as my husband lightly tapped his fork against his wineglass. He looked magnificent in a tan blazer, a black Calvin Klein shirt, and my favorite jeans. When we’d arrived to the Hyatt, Greg had told me we were going to the Spindletop restaurant for an intimate dinner. We’d gotten a room so we didn’t have to go home tonight.
Greg cleared his throat and continued as the room grew silent. “These past few weeks have been very trying for the people we love”—he looked at Paula and smiled—“and the people who love them.” He looked at me.
I returned his smile. I was genuinely grateful. If you had asked me six weeks ago if I could ever love my husband more, I’d tell you no. Here we were, surrounded by family and friends. My sisters waved at me. I knew they were happy to see me happy. Some of my sorority sisters were here, as well as a couple of my colleagues. I didn’t know how the night could get any more perfect.
Greg turned his attention back to Paula. “Paula, I want you to know that I have always admired your commitment to your family and your dedication to your friends. I want you to know no matter what, I will always be there for you.”
That made me frown. “I will always be there”? Seems like it would have been more appropriate for Greg to say we will always be there. But I shook off that thought and continued listening.
He stared out at the audience. “I’m so glad you all are here to help me celebrate my wife’s birthday. She has given so much to everyone. It’s time that we gave her something back.”
I found myself wishing Liz had come, but Greg had been adamant that he wanted our “dinner” to include just the two of us, so we’d done dinner with the three of us last night.
“To my wife, the birthday girl,” Greg said, holding his glass as the others joined him. “The mother of my child, the love of my life, the woman who . . . broke my heart in a million pieces.”
I froze as he lost his smile, and his eyes began filling with tears.
No, no, no, no, no. But it was too late. Greg turned back to the crowd. “I know this isn’t the platform for this.” He put his hand over his heart. “But when you’re heartbroken, you sometimes do things you might not otherwise do. My first instinct was to take a pistol and put a bullet in my wife’s head.” Several gasps filled the room, and Greg managed a terse chuckle. “But don’t worry, I’m not a violent man because if I were . . .” He shook his head as he let out a slow hiss.
“Greg, don’t . . .” I managed to whisper.
He ignored me. His best friend stood and eased next to him. “Come on, man, don’t do this,” he whispered.
Greg jerked away from him. “No. No, everyone needs to know that the woman we’re celebrating is the scum of the earth.” He turned to Paula, who was looking mortified.
“Greg, what in the world are you doing?” she asked from the table directly in front of us. “I can’t believe you’re doing this to Felise!”
That made Greg crack up laughing. “Look at you, Paula. Always coming to your friend’s side.” He wagged a finger at her. “What did you tell me on our wedding day? ‘You’d better not hurt my girl.’ Well, you should’ve told your girl that she’d better not hurt me.”
“Greg, stop,” Paula said. I wanted her to stop coming to my defense, but I was frozen in my seat. “Whatever is going on with you and Felise can be worked out,” she sternly added.
That made Greg laugh again. “Can it, huh? Let me see if you feel the same way after I tell you what she did.”
I finally managed to find my voice. “Greg, don’t.”
He ignored me and continued. “Do you know why she wasn’t there when Steven died? In the beginning?”
“No, Greg. Please.”
He continued to ignore me. All eyes in the room were planted on us like this was some reality show.
“She wasn’t there because she felt guilty.”
I saw the confused look on Paula’s face. “About what?”
Greg continued. “I’m glad you asked.”
“Greg,” his friend said, tugging at his arm again. “Come on, man.”
Greg turned to him. “Benny, have a seat, ma
n. You’re not going to stop me.”
“This isn’t the time or the place,” Benny said.
“When is the time?” Greg shouted. “When is the time to let everyone know what my wife did?”
I saw a look of defeat cross Benny’s face, and he looked at me apologetically as he sank back down in the chair.
Greg spun back toward Paula. “Felise wasn’t there for you in the days after Steven’s death because she’s the reason your husband died.”
“What?” Paula said, her brow creasing in confusion.
“Oh, she didn’t kill him,” Greg continued, “at least not outright, but somewhere in their passionate night of lovemaking, I’m sure he overexerted himself and that led to him dying.”
Paula frowned, then looked at me like she was expecting me to jump up and call Greg a liar. Every eye in the room was planted on me.
“Felise, what is he talking about?” she said. Paula’s mother was sitting next to her, just as horrified. In fact, everyone in the room was in shock.
I stared at my friend. The only thing that would come out of my mouth was, “I–I, ah . . .”
“Oh, she’s speechless,” Greg said, “so let me share the story for you. My wife, your best friend, and your husband met up for a secret rendezvous at the Four Seasons.”
“We didn’t meet up,” I mumbled, my head lowered.
But Greg ignored me. He was on a roll. “Oh, I forgot the kicker. This was on our wedding anniversary!” He hit the podium and laughed like a madman. “Our wedding anniversary!”
Paula stood, holding onto the back of her chair like she was trying to steady herself. “This can’t be true. Felise, tell me it’s not true.”
“I’m afraid it is,” Greg said. “That’s why she couldn’t come by your side in the beginning. She felt guilty. Not enough to come clean, but guilty nonetheless. But she’s such a liar that she stole some of our daughter’s college tuition to pay off a blackmailer to keep her little secret safe.”
Paula was shaking now. “Felise, what is he talking about? You’re my best friend. Tell me this isn’t true.” She came closer to the front table. “Tell me this isn’t true,” she slowly repeated when I didn’t respond.
Greg glared at me. “Yeah, wifey. Tell her it isn’t true.”
I looked at Paula, then the sea of faces staring at me in shock, then back at Paula, and all I could say was “I’m so sorry.”
“You bitch! How could you do this?” Paula screamed as she dove over the table. I saw my sisters move in to try to pull her off of me, but she was like a raging bull. All I could do was shield my face because Paula was out for blood. Just as I raised my arms I saw my husband, a mixture of hate and sadness across his face, exit out a side door.
The last thing I remembered was Paula’s fist connecting with my face before everything went black.
52
Felise
“OOOOH,” I MOANED. I FELT like I’d been in a boxing match with Laila Ali and hadn’t landed a lick.
“Just take it easy. Sit up.” Mavis was bent over by my side. She was trying to help me sit up.
“Are you sure we don’t need to take her to the hospital?” I heard Fran ask.
My head was pounding and my vision was blurred, but I knew I had no desire to go to the hospital, especially because the nearest one was Memorial Hermann, where I worked.
“I’m okay,” I mumbled, rubbing my forehead. Then I noticed the word whore spray-painted across the hotel room wall.
“What is that?” I asked.
Mavis and Fran frowned. “Yeah, we saw that when we brought you here,” Mavis said. “At some point during the evening, Greg must’ve come up here and done that.”
I shook my head. That must have been why he wanted to use my credit card for the room when we checked in. He wanted to make sure I’d be responsible for this mess.
“Why would he do this?” I said, adjusting the ice pack someone had placed on my jaw. “Go to this extreme?”
“It is low-down,” Mavis replied. “But I told you, all consequences have actions.”
“Not now, please,” I said. I had a bad enough headache. Mavis’s preaching would only make it worse.
“Oh, I’m not trying to preach because I feel horrible for you,” Mavis said.
“Paula, how is she?” I asked.
“She’s not too good. They had to sedate her,” Mavis said.
I fell back against the headboard. “Oh, my God, she’s never going to forgive me.”
“Probably not,” Mavis replied.
“This is all your punk-ass husband’s fault,” Fran said. “I should’ve known something was wrong. Greg is so anal, and he forgave you so easily.”
Fran was right. Now that I thought back on his behavior, I should’ve seen this coming. But my need for redemption had blinded me. My husband never had been a forgiving man, so I don’t know why in the world I thought he’d forgiven me for such a horrible betrayal, and so quickly. I was so blinded by my guilt that I didn’t think about how vindictive my husband could be.
“So, what are you going to do?” Mavis asked.
“I don’t know. I want to try and make it right. I don’t know how that’s possible, though,” I replied. “But I need to talk to Paula.”
“I agree.”
“Girl, are you crazy?” Fran said. “You’d better stay far away from Paula right now.”
“Unlike Fran, I do think you should go see Paula. Try to talk to her,” Mavis said.
“She’s not going to want to talk to me.”
“But you have to try.”
I couldn’t believe I was in this predicament. “One weak moment has cost me everything.”
“It sure did, and if you ask me, Steven got off easy,” Fran said.
Mavis sighed heavily. “I understand the desires of the flesh. I understand temptation, but we can’t get so far gone that we don’t think about the consequences of our actions. We get so caught up in the minute that we don’t worry about anything else.”
My sister with all her preaching was right on the money. That night in the Four Seasons, Steven and I had thrown caution to the wind. We knew it was wrong, but we justified it because it felt right. We never thought about all the people we would hurt. We never thought our story would end like this.
“When bad things happen, most people don’t see it coming. They think that they’re going to be the one that can do this bad thing and everything will be all right. I’m not saying we won’t get caught up in bad situations. But before you take that leap, we should always ask, is it worth it?” Mavis continued.
Even Fran looked like she was thinking about what my sister was saying. And it must have resonated with her because she didn’t say a word.
“I made a mess of everything,” I cried.
“Yeah, you did. But that’s the reason Jesus died for our sins, so that we don’t have to crucify ourselves for them.”
“Preach, sis.”
I side-eyed Fran.
“Don’t worry,” she replied, “I’m not about to turn into Joyce Meyer or anything, but Mavis is right. I may not be all super religious like her, but I know the Lord forgives. And if He can forgive, then so can you.”
“And so can Greg. And so can Paula,” Mavis added.
Fran shook her head. “Um, yeah, maybe not Paula.”
“My point is, they can,” Mavis continued. “So, give Paula time to cool down and in a couple of days, go see her. Talk to her. Tell her how you made a mistake and you’re trying to make it right.”
I let out a heavy sigh as I tried my best not to cry. Not that I had any tears left.
“Just remember, healing takes time and you got to have patience. Here,” Mavis said, handing me a Bible out of her purse.
“What is this for?” I asked. “I have a Bible.”
“But obviously you’re not using it.” She opened the book for me. “You see the pages with the yellow tabs? Read those passages. If you don’t have strength, read Psalm 73:26.
If you need help with forgiveness, try Acts 3:19. If you need to see a way out of no way, try First Corinthians 10:13.”
“And if you want to feel empowered, try The Book of Eli.”
Both Mavis and I stared at Fran.
“Isn’t that a Denzel film?” I asked.
She shrugged. “Honey, if Denzel can’t empower you, nothing can.”
Mavis shook her head at Fran. “You’re coming to Bible study with me next week. You need Jesus.”
A part of me wanted to smile. But the way my heart hurt, I didn’t have anything to smile about.
53
Paula
I HADN’T MOVED FROM MY spot on the sofa. I had no plans on moving ever again. I’d lost my husband and my best friend in the ultimate act of betrayal. The pills—some prescription my mom had gotten for me—were helping me calm down. But they didn’t quiet the raging pain in my heart.
“Mom, is it true?” Tahiry asked, standing over me. My precious daughter. So innocent, so oblivious. She’d been real subdued in the three days since I’d found out about Felise and Steven. At first I thought maybe she knew since Liz was with her the night of the party. But I had assumed Liz must not have known either because Tahiry hadn’t said anything about it, and to be honest, I was just too blinded by my anger to focus anything else.
But now, judging by the look on my little girl’s face, I knew without a doubt, she knew.
“So Nana slept with Daddy?”
“She’s not your nana anymore. And yes, her and your daddy decided to get—”
“Paula!”
I stopped as my mom entered the room. She glared at me before turning to Tahiry. “Sweetheart, go to your room.”
Tahiry looked at me, pain in her eyes, but she didn’t argue as she walked out.
“Why did you stop me from telling her all the gory details?” I said, throwing my blanket back and sitting up on the sofa.
My mother’s hands went to her hips like she was disappointed in me.
“That’s grown folks’ business. You don’t need to be talking with your fourteen-year-old daughter about issues with your man.”
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