by Jewel Daniel
"We've got a date..." Tamara repeated, suddenly fearful of what that meant. They hadn't discussed what would happen when he got his green card, or the verbal agreement they had initially made to divorce soon after. They had always said they would cross that bridge when they got there. Well, the bridge was looming ahead of them like a mammoth in the middle of the road.
"You don't sound too ecstatic," Kwabena observed. He could hardly contain his excitement.
"I'm happy for you. I...I just... never expected it to be so soon."
"I know, but I'm just so happy it's finally coming through."
"Ben," Tamara asked hesitantly, "what about our initial agreement? What happens now?
"Mrs. Tamara Opoku, do you love me?"
"Of course I love you, Dr. Kwabena Opoku."
"Then nothing happens. Nothing changes, except maybe a couple of kids down the road."
"Oh, Ben." Tammy clung to him. She kissed him passionately. Every hair on her body stood at attention. He kissed her face, ears and neck, his lips and tongue licking, nibbling and teasing the hollow of her throat. His hands caressed her legs and bottom, drawing her close to him. His mouth sought her breast, as his tongue eagerly licked and teased at her erect nipples.
Tammy gasped, feeling his hard arousal pressing into her. She let her hands grasp his bottom, feeling his muscles. She arched her back invitingly against the side of the pool as he stroked her, making her moist.
"Oh, Tammy," Kwabena breathed against her wet skin. "I'd never dream of leaving you."
He placed his hand beneath the crook of her knees, gently spreading her legs, and entered her. He closed his eyes, feeling her warm moisture envelope his manhood. Slowly they moved against each other, stoking the embers of their desire. Soon passion overwhelmed them, and Kwabena plunged deeper into her. Rapidly grinding against each other, they moaned, grunted and groaned as they soared to heights of pleasure. With a burst of fulfillment, their names rolling off each other's tongues, they climaxed together. They held each other at the edge of the pool, the sunlight fading into darkness, the warm water washing away the sweat of their passion, their naked bodies crushed against each other. They were satiated. They both knew there was a lifetime of love ahead of them.
Adeola extended one long shapely leg out of the car and onto the pavement. The workmen across the parking lot whistled. It was a reaction she expected and loved. She was beautiful, and she knew it. She slid her curvaceous body out of her car and glided across the parking lot. She ignored the catcalls. Another day, she might have allowed herself to feel flattered, but not today. Today she was on a mission to get what rightfully belonged to her.
She walked through the maze of corridors leading to Independent Laboratories. She smiled as guys ogled at her and women watched her with envy, wishing they could look like her. Her straight skirt ended just above the knees and was just long and loose enough to be businesslike, yet short and fitted enough to tantalize men with her long legs. She strutted like a model on the catwalk, though her reign as Miss Nigeria ended almost a decade ago.
"Hello," she said to an administrative assistant. "Where can I find Mrs. Opoku?"
The lady looked at her blankly. "Pardon me, ma'am?" she responded politely.
"I'm looking for Tamara Opoku."
"Oh, Tammy," the lady exclaimed. "Nobody uses last names here at the labs. She's in room 426... two doors down on the left."
Adeola thanked the lady and sashayed off. As she en tered the room, all heads turned. Men-whether they were Chinese, Korean, Indian, black or white-looked at her lustfully. She felt like telling them to wipe the drool from their mouths. Yet she reveled in the attention. It was such a shame the person she wanted that attention from wasn't giving it... at least not right now. But that would change very soon.
"Hi, Tamara," Adeola said in her deep, throaty, thick Nigerian accent.
Tammy was sitting behind a bank of computers and deep in concentration. She had been reading an e-mail from Kwabena. He'd arrived at the conference in Pasadena, California, safely and was preparing to give a talk sometime later that evening. She looked up, startled. "Oh, hi, Adeola. Mike is out to lunch right now. He should be back shortly."
"I'm not looking for Mike. I'm looking for you."
Tamara looked at her puzzled. "Me?"
"I was in the area and I thought I'd stop by and maybe we can do lunch?"
"Lunch?" Tamara asked dumbfounded. Of all Kwabena's female friends, Adeola had been the coldest toward her. Tamara had met her only a few times: that night at the party at Chris's house, twice when she dropped by the lab to see Mike, at a few of the parties they'd attended during the summer and Independence Day, when she'd made her grand entrance at the pool party. Each time Adeola had been cold and aloof toward her. Maybe she's finally beginning to accept me, Tamara thought hopefully.
"Ok, I see you're busy. I'll take a raincheck. Maybe we can do this some other time when I return from California."
"Oh, no. No, it's ok. I can do lunch now. I was just a little surprised to see you here. Where would you like to go?"
"How about the cafe downstairs?"
"Sure." Tamara grabbed her purse and followed Adeola's lead. Tamara observed Adeola's stunning beauty and the effect she had on men with a tiny twinge of envy. Heads turned as she glided gracefully along, just a step ahead of Tamara. Men tripped over themselves opening doors for her. Beside her, Tamara felt diminutive.
They sat outside at a small table and made small talk while eating chef's salads. All the while Tamara wondered what the purpose of the visit was. Finally, unable to contain herself Tamara asked, "You work near here?"
"Oh no. I work in Washington, D.C. I just thought we'd have a little celebratory lunch, you know."
Tamara was perplexed. "What are we celebrating?"
"Kwabena's permanent green card. The wait is over. That is worth celebrating, isn't it?"
"Who told you he got it?" As far as Tamara knew, only Chris, Edebe and Mike knew he'd received the green card.
Adeola smiled sweetly. "Why, Kwabena told me, of course." She sighed. "Aren't you relieved? Now you can get your divorce and go on with your life."
"Divorce?" Tamara's antenna went up. Something did not feel right about this conversation. "Who said we're getting a divorce?"
"Kwabena. That was part of the agreement, wasn't it? Now he can get on with his life and you can go back to yours. I'm just so happy that it finally came through. It's been a long year."
Tamara was annoyed. "I have no idea what you are talking about, but Ben and I are not getting a divorce."
"Really? That's not what he told me." She slipped an envelope out of her bag and pushed it across the table toward Tamara. Tamara opened the envelope and her heart sank. In it were divorce papers. The only things missing were the dates and the signatures.
Tamara swallowed the lump in her throat. "What's in it for you?" she asked quietly.
Adeola smiled sweetly. "He didn't tell you, did he? We're engaged. We've been for a while."
She held out her left hand, showing Tamara the large pear-shaped diamond. It was almost identical to the one he'd given her, except for the size-it was twice as large. Adeola removed the ring, and like she would a friend, showed Tamara the inscription: Kwabena r Adeola.
Tamara knew Kwabena had been engaged sometime in the past, but he never told her it was Adeola. She looked at Adeola's physical appearance, her confidence and sophisticated poise, and Tamara's heart sank. How could she ever measure up? Was that why he never told her about Adeola? Was it because he never ended the relationship? Was it because he still found her attractive? But then, who wouldn't?
Tamara's mind was in turmoil. She remembered him saying that he and his fiancee didn't work out, which was why he'd had uncommitted relationships, and for a brief moment, she felt comforted. "Our marriage may have started out as a marriage of convenience, but it changed. We have a real marriage."
Adeola laughed her throaty laugh. "Tammy, I'm sorry you
had to be caught up in this, but it's never over between Ben and me. In fact, it was my idea that he marry for the green card. You see, dear, I work for the Nigerian government at the embassy. I've been in this country for a long time, and I have no way of becoming a U. S. citizen except maybe through marriage. But you know how fickle African governments can be...One party's in power, a coup and another is in power... then I'll be out of a job. I really do not want to go back to Nigeria. So we figured Ben would get his green card and then marry me and I get mine that way. When that little incident with his mentor happened, we realized we had to get it quickly. Marriage to a citizen was the only option. I was with him all the while. Who do you think answered the phone when you called to tell him about the interview? We just never anticipated that whole temporary green card issue and him having to move in with you. And I certainly didn't expect you to seduce him."
"What! I never seduced him. I was a virgin when we married."
"Oh yes, we all know that. Do you think for one minute I thought your dirty dancing after announcing your virginity to everybody at the party was an accident? You planned it quite carefully, didn't you? What man could resist deflowering a twenty-six-year-old virgin?"
Tamara bit back tears. All her insecurities of the past resurfaced. How could Kwabena make love to her, tell her he loved her and promise to be with her forever when he had plans to marry another woman? How could he make people believe that she seduced him? She should have known that a man like Kwabena could not really love her. No matter how much weight she lost, she could not compare with the women he dated in the past. She wasn't tall, slim, or long-legged. She didn't have a face or body that turned heads and made men drool. She didn't dress in sophisticated designer clothes or glide around gracefully.
"Look, Tammy, Kwabena is aman, and as you must know by now, he has a voracious sexual appetite," Adeola said to Tamera's silence. "That's why in some parts of our country we still practice polygamy. I wasn't ok with him messing around, especially when I caught him in bed with my friend. I wasn't ok with him sleeping with you. That was not a part of the plan. But when you love somebody, you learn to forgive and overlook their indiscretions. We've been together over eight years now. But you know what? Each time he strayed, he came right back to me. You know why? Because we love and understand each other."
Tamara was quiet for a long time. Jared's deceit and ultimate betrayal came fresh to her mind. She'd thought Kwabena was different. She had trusted him. To have him use her like Jared had was more than she could bear. "I have to go back to work now," she said quietly. She was not going to let this woman see her cry.
"By the way," Adeola said with a smile. "I love your home, especially the master suite. Pink satin sheets are a little feminine for a man, don't you think?"
Tamara's jaw dropped. She felt faint. "You ...you were in my house ... in my bed?"
Adeola smiled triumphantly. She got up and looked at her watch. "I'd love to stay and chat some more, but I've got a plane to catch. I'm heading to Pasadena for the weekend."
Tamara dragged herself upstairs, locked herself in the restroom and cried her eyes out. A while later she popped her head into Mike's office. She was supposed to meet with him after lunch to go over some data she was presenting for the lab meeting next Tuesday.
"Mike," she said hoarsely, "can we reschedule our meeting for Monday? I'm not feeling very well."
He looked up at her. "Sure," he replied, hiding his shock at her pale appearance. "Besides a lunch seminar at Johns Hopkins, I'm wide open on Monday. Take the rest of the day off. You can take tomorrow if you need to."
"Thanks," she said. Then she added, "How long was Ben engaged to Adeola?"
Mike, who had already returned to the paperwork on his desk, answered distractedly without looking up, "Three, maybe four years."
Tamara drove home like a madwoman, tears streaming down her face. How could he do this to me? How could he? How could he use me like that?
She wished Jordan was there for her to call, but he and his family had gone to Jamaica for a three-weekvacation. She didn't want to talk to her mother or any other member of her family.
She lay on the bed and cried. Then with a sudden burst of energy, she began removing his clothes from her closet and dumping them into garbage bags. With each item of clothing she removed, she cursed Kwabena in a language not even a drunken sailor would use. She knew exactly what she had to do. Jared had taken her money, but Kwabena had robbed her of her soul.
Kwabena's heart beat wildly in anticipation as he unlocked the front door. Oh, how he'd missed Tamara! He could only imagine what she was wearing now. The last time he'd returned from a conference, she had greeted him in an outfit that was nothing short of dental floss. Her thong had more in common with a slingshot than an undergarment. That time, they'd never made it past the stairs. Right now he wanted to hold her, touch her and taste her. He could hardly wait.
"Honey, I'm home," he called loudly. Instead of Tamara dressed in a satin robe, he was greeted by boxes piled up in the foyer. His voice echoed in the large room. He looked around perplexed. What in the world is going on here? "Tammy?"
He heard low voices coming from the library. He strode briskly to the library, worried. There was a strange foreboding-a little voice telling him something was desperately wrong. As he opened the door, he saw Tamara and a young African-American woman sitting at her desk, deep in discussion.
They both stood as he entered. "This is Janelle Jackson," Tamara said coldly. "She is a lawyer, and she will be handling our divorce."
Kwabena looked at her, surprised. "This is a joke, right?" he asked. But from the steely expression on Tamara's face, he knew she was serious.
"No, it's not a joke. This was part of our agreement, and I'm just keeping my end of the bargain. Your stuff is already packed. I want you out of my house today."
Janelle Jackson showed him some papers and began going over the information with him. Kwabena did not hear a word she said. He did not understand what was up with Tamara or why she was acting this cold. He looked at her, but she refused to make eye contact.
"Miss Jackson, I need a moment with my wife please... alone."
Janelle looked at them, nodded and left the library. As soon as she stepped out, Kwabena asked, "Tammy, what is this all about?"
"It's about the marriage of convenience we had. You've now gotten your green card and it's time to move on. I won't keep you from your life any longer."
"What are you talking about? I thought we agreed that our marriage was more than one of convenience? What's gotten into you, Tammy?"
"Nothing. You need your freedom to get along with your life, and I'm giving it to you. Now please sign the papers, give me my money and leave."
"Tammy?" he called. That was not the Tamara he knew. Even in the worst of times she was never cold or calculating. She was always passionate, be it in anger or in desire. "Talk to me. We promised to be open and honest with each other. Tell me what's bothering you. You can't make a drastic decision like this without first talking to me."
"Honest? Open? Do you even know the meaning of those words? Just take your things and go back to your Nigerian beauty queen. Adeola's waiting for you. You knew we never had a chance in hell."
He knew he should have told her earlier about Adeola and their past relationship, but he wanted to protect her. He'd recognized early on that Tamara was insecure about her physical appearance and he didn't want her to feel threatened by his ex-fiancee. He didn't want her comparing herself to Adeola or anyone else for that matter. Yes, Adeola was physically attractive, but Tamara was twice the woman she could ever be. He took a deep breath and walked toward his wife. He just wanted to hold her in his arms. "Tammy, Adeola and I are ancient history. We were engaged a long time ago, and it's over between us."
"Is that why you slept with her in my house?" It took every ounce of energy she had to hold back the tears welling in her eyes. As much as she wanted to keep her cool, she couldn't. "How could you,
Ben? How could you? You knew how I felt about you. You knew I trusted you. How could you?"
"Tammy, that happened before our relationship changed." Kwabena was not a person to cry, but he felt tears stinging his eyes. He was losing the one person he loved, and he knew no amount of explaining would convince her to stay. His world was turning upside down and there was little he could do change that.
"Tamara, I'm not signing those papers. Not as long as I think there is a chance for us."
"There is no chance, Ben. We had an agreement, and I'm sticking to it. I want a divorce. I want out of this marriage."
"Tamara, if you can look me in the eyes and tell me this marriage was nothing more than a business deal, if you honestly can tell me you don't love me, I'll sign the papers."
Tamara swallowed. She knew this was the hardest thing she would ever do in her life. She concentrated on a spot somewhere behind his shoulder and spoke, "Kwabena, I don't love you, Muti man-Yes, I finally figured out the meaning, you're the stud aren't you? Now just give me my damned money and go."
Kwabena swallowed hard. How could she even say that? He knew she was lying, yet he was crushed. He called Janelle back into the library and asked for the papers. Slowly, painfully, he signed all the designated pages. It would be an uncontested divorce. No strings, no alimony, no division of property.
He turned to her as he exited the library, his hands clenching and unclenching in an effort to hold back tears. "I'll be back for my stuff tomorrow. I...I...never mind." He turned on his heel and left.
Tamara stood quietly until she heard his car pull out of the driveway. Then she broke down in tears. Janelle held her, letting her cry on her shoulder until Tamara was spent. As she packed up her stuff to leave, she handed Tamara the signed divorce papers.
"Maybe you should hang on to these instead of filing them until you think it through. You guys don't need a divorce. You need marital counseling."