Bobby’s mood was subdued as he walked around to the passenger door and got in Chardonnay’s car. He hadn’t expected her to turn a flip, but he hadn’t expected her to dis him either. A part of him thought about keeping the heart necklace, maybe even give it to Zoe, since her heartfelt suggestion had been the impetus for a transformation that made him feel good. But I bought it for this girl, here. Maybe it will make a difference…. He turned puppy-dog eyes at Chardonnay and handed over the smaller bag. “These are for Yak and Ray-Ray.”
Chardonnay took the contents out of the bag and held up the first one.
“What the hell?”
Bobby’s crooked smile returned as he reached into the larger bag he still held. “I got us one, too, baby. Figured we could all wear them to Stone Mountain.”
“And get beat down? Yo ass ain’t in N’awlins,” she drawled. “You’re in Atlanta, man. Cardinal country, ya heard?”
“Yeah, but y’all got love …”
“Humph, I don’t know about that. But I like the idea of us going to Stone Mountain. You might have to buy us something else to wear there and save these tees for when you take us to New Orleans.”
“Really? You’d come home with me? Meet my family?” Bobby’s mood lightened considerably at thoughts of he and Chardonnay making a real go of things.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Chardonnay said, reaching for the other bag. She looked up in time to see Shyla’s shiny Lexus pull into the employee lot. “Oh, hell no. Look who’s decided to go slumming and park back here with the regular folk.”
Bobby looked up and saw Shyla Martin pull her car into a parking space two cars down. He knew there was no love lost between her and Chardonnay, but he didn’t have anything against her. “I like that ride.”
“F that tramp and the horse she rode in on. Ooh, Bobby, these for my kids?” Chardonnay smiled at the remote-control car and Dora the Explorer doll, both of which she knew her children would love. “Oh shit,” she exclaimed, looking at her watch. “I’m going to be late.” Chardonnay hurriedly opened her door. “Get out!”
“But you haven’t seen what else I got for you!” Bobby said, scurrying out the door so that Chardonnay could lock up her car.
“I’ll see it later,” Chardonnay said, taking her time crossing the parking lot so that she could finish her cigarette.
Bobby didn’t miss the gist of Chardonnay’s words—that she’d see him later that night. Knowing that, he felt okay to end the convo for now and get to work. He didn’t even take it personally that, while she didn’t have any more time to talk to him, she had a couple minutes to hang out with Newport before clocking in. As he reached the back entrance to the restaurant, Shyla and a man Bobby didn’t recognize approached the door. “Ms. Martin,” he said, stepping forward to open the door.
Shyla turned for a quick thank-you, but then took in his new and improved appearance and stopped in her tracks. “Bobby! What happened? You look great!”
Bobby’s grin was immediate.
“Ah, just a little sumpin-sumpin. I guess this is what a vacation after eighteen months will do.”
“Well, you look quite nice. Your clothing is impeccable.” Shyla turned and noted Chardonnay approaching, taking a last drag off the cigarette before flicking it behind her. “Some employees could learn a lesson or two from you,” she said, loud enough for Chardonnay to hear her. Then she turned and flounced inside.
Yeah, I got your lesson, wench, Chardonnay thought as she stepped inside and began her shift. She made a point to trade tables with Jermaine, just so she wouldn’t have to breathe Shyla’s air. But Chardonnay took note of Shyla’s flirty demeanor and wondered just how things were between her and Toussaint. I wonder how cute you’d think you were without Toussaint for a sex mate or without Taste for a job. Chardonnay stopped, as this last thought that popped into her mind took her by surprise. What she wouldn’t give to somehow make Shyla lose the job that gave her status and the right to look down her nose at everybody else. An image of Shyla, down-and-out, sans weave, designer clothes, or luxury vehicle danced in Chardonnay’s head. That sistah needs to be brought down a peg or two. And I might be just the sistah to do it.
41
Adam tensed as the front door opened. He relaxed a bit when he heard Malcolm laugh at something Toussaint said. Just my sons … Then he heard her voice. And my cheating wife. It had been two weeks to the day since Adam had put Candace out of their home. He’d thought he was ready to see her, yet in this moment realized there was no getting prepared for this conversation. There had never been a family meeting like this.
Malcolm was the first person to enter the den. He noted that it looked much as it had when he’d visited earlier in the week: papers strewn around, a couple more tumblers added to those already sitting on various tabletops. Where’s the housekeeper? Did he make this room off-limits while he drowned his misery? Malcolm thought these things in the seconds it took him to walk over to where Adam stood, looking out the window. “Hey, Dad.”
“Malcolm.” There were footsteps. Adam turned and stared at the den entrance.
Toussaint came around the corner, carrying a coffee tray. “In case someone wants coffee, or gets hungry,” he said by way of greeting. He set down the tray that included mini-bagels, cream cheese, and thin slices of prosciutto, then walked over and hugged his father. “It’s gonna be all right, Dad” he whispered.
One minute went by, and then another. Malcolm walked over to the bar and poured himself a drink. “You want one, Dad?”
Adam nodded. Malcolm looked at Toussaint, who declined. Instead, Toussaint poured himself a cup of coffee and began munching on a croissant.
“Where is she?” Adam asked when another minute had gone by. Now that his sons, brother, and sister-in-law had talked him into seeing his wife, Adam wanted to get started. The sooner we talk about this mess, the sooner … the sooner what? Adam didn’t have an answer to that question, and suddenly wasn’t in such a hurry to see his wife.
“Let me see where she is.” Without waiting for an answer, Toussaint went in search of his mother. He didn’t have to go far. She was in the kitchen, staring out the window. “Mama,” Toussaint said, his voice soft, comforting. “Let’s do this. The sooner you come in, the sooner we can put this family back together.”
“But what if your father doesn’t want that—can’t accept that?” Candace asked, her wide eyes brimming with unshed tears. “I’m so ashamed. That he would only talk to me with y’all here is just … A mother shouldn’t have to do this in front of her children.”
“We’re big boys,” Toussaint said. “And we’re here for both of you. We’re not here to find out what happened. We don’t need or want to know what went on. That’s business that you and Daddy can discuss after we’re gone. Malcolm and I just want to see y’all stay together. That’s the only reason we’re here.” Toussaint walked over and hugged his mother. As she clung to him, he recalled an incident years ago, when the tables were turned. He’d been twelve at the time and had experienced his first heartbreak when Trina “Juicy” Willis dropped him for the neighbor with the high-top fade. “Hang in there, baby. You’ll feel better,” is what his mother had told him. And now this is what Toussaint told his mom as they walked back into the den.
“I’m sorry.” These are the first words Candace uttered as she turned the corner and saw Adam and Malcolm, looking like the older and younger version of the same man, sitting on the couch. Even their posture was alike: both men with their right leg resting on their left knee, with a tumbler of cognac in their left hand. “Adam, there are no words to tell you how sorry I am that this happened,” she said, walking farther into the room and perching herself on the wingback chair across from the love seat where Adam and Malcolm sat. “I know forgiving me won’t be easy….”
Adam stared hard at his wife. Through his anger, he noted the dark circles under her eyes, her skin’s sallow appearance, and the tightness around her mouth. He hadn’t been the only one
suffering. “Are you sorry it happened, or sorry you got caught?”
“Both,” Candace quickly replied. “But sorrier that it happened.” She looked between Malcolm and Toussaint. “When I think of what I’ve done to this family, I’m just sick about it.”
“What were you thinking?” Malcolm blurted out. “I know it’s not my business, but …”
“It is your business, son,” Adam interjected. “It’s all of our business. Because what affects one Livingston affects us all, and it affects the business. That’s why we can’t be selfish, caught up in just thinking about ourselves and our own fleeting pleasures.” These words were clearly meant for Candace even though he spoke to Malcolm. Only now did he turn to Candace. “And it’s a good question too. And one I want to know. What in the hell were you thinking?”
“I want to share some things with you, Adam. I want to tell you everything. But I think this part of the conversation needs to happen just between us.”
“Yeah, and if you’d been thinking about things that just needed to happen between a man and his wife while ‘working out,’ “Adam said using air quotes, “we wouldn’t be here, now, would we?
Silence filled the room, punctuated only by the ticking of the grandfather clock. Adam stared at Candace; she looked at the floor. The brothers looked at each other.
Toussaint spoke. “Dad, Mama’s right. Malcolm and I don’t need to be a part of this entire conversation. The only reason we’re here is to speak our minds when it comes to this family, this marriage, remaining intact. Being the only single one here, I’m probably the last one to give advice on the matter. But when two people love each other, I don’t think there’s anything too hard to overcome, anything broken that can’t be fixed. I love both of you, and more than anything else, want to see you happy. I just hope you continue finding that happiness together.”
Adam looked at his son, his face a mask. He took a sip of his drink and remained silent.
“Marriage isn’t easy,” Malcolm said after a pause. “And unlike Toussaint, I am speaking from experience, present experience,” he emphasized. “But we’re Livingstons. We work things out.” At this moment, an image of Joyce Witherspoon flashed through his mind. How sexy she’d looked the other night when they’d gone back to his office to work on the promotion outline and how the smokers would be incorporated into her catering events. How after unbuttoning her pink silk blouse, he’d buried his head in the valley of her breasts before nudging aside her lacy black bra and tonguing an already pert nipple. How she’d encouraged his actions by wrapping her arms around him and opening her mouth for a deep, wet kiss. Had it not been for a late-night cleaning person, Malcolm would have taken her right there, on his office floor. “We work things out,” he finished softly, wondering if this could be true when you no longer loved your wife.
“Y’all can go,” Adam said. He broke his gaze away from Candace long enough to look at his sons.
“Does that mean you and Mama will be all right, that she can come back here?” Malcolm asked.
Three sets of eyes stared at Adam and awaited his answer. He nodded.
“And everything will be fine? I mean, you were pretty angry, Daddy. You’re cool and all?” Toussaint had never known his father to be a violent man, but anybody could strike if pushed far enough.
“I’ve never hit a woman,” Adam said, draining his glass and resisting the urge to pour another drink. His stomach was telling him that he’d imbibed more than enough, and he decided to listen. “Your mother and I will be fine.”
42
After hugging each of their parents, Malcolm and Toussaint left. The ensuing silence was deafening as Candace nervously twirled her wedding ring, searching her mind for the right words to say, the words that would allow her back into the master suite and into Adam’s heart. “Thank you for letting me come back, baby,” she began. “I’ve missed you …” Adam snorted.
“Truly, baby, I’ve missed us. That other situation, it just happened. It never meant anything.”
“Then why did you do it?”
“Stupid, and like you said, selfish.” Candace stood and began pacing the room. “Adam, you know how wild I was when we met, how I was the life of the party, liked to smoke, drink. All of that changed when we got married, and I wanted it to change. I wanted to be upstanding and respected, like your mother, and to fit into the Livingston legacy. But even then that felt monumental to a woman like me. I gladly gave those things up, baby, and honestly, thought it was all in my past.
“Then I met … Then I started going to the gym and suddenly that part of me was reawakened, the part that lived life dangerously and only for the moment. I guess it was a midlife crisis of sorts, trying to recapture my youth.
“But it wasn’t worth it,” she continued, coming to Adam and kneeling in front of him. Her eyes again shone with unshed tears. “If I had it to do over again, I’d do things much differently. Is there any way you can forgive me, baby?” Candace’s voice broke as she asked the question. “Is there any way we can put this marriage back together? I’ll do anything.”
“I had a woman chase me for two years,” Adam said, looking down at Candace kneeling in front of him. “Well, I have had a lot of women give me rhythm, but this one was more aggressive than the rest.”
Candace’s eyes widened. “Who?” She got ready to sit next to Adam, but upon seeing him stiffen, returned to the wingback chair.
“Joyce Witherspoon.”
Candace nodded. She didn’t doubt that Joyce had gone after her husband, and thinking back to the meeting where Malcolm introduced his smoker, she wondered if Joyce was now pursuing her son. “But you didn’t sleep with her, because of the legacy.”
“I didn’t sleep with her because of my marriage vows,” Adam retorted. “Because of my love for you!” When Candace’s head dropped in shame, Adam’s voice softened. “And the legacy may have helped a little bit. I ain’t gonna lie. When you’ve had something drummed in your head from the time you were ten, how decades of faithfulness are now resting on you, it’s a pretty strong deterrent. Who wants to be the man to break a tradition borne by a slave? But it wasn’t only that. It was you. You’ve always been the only woman for me, Can. Since the day I saw you walking across the campus, looking like Angela Davis’s sister, or a seventies Erykah Badu.
“I’m going to forgive you, but I don’t know how easily I’ll forget. I can’t tell you what it does to me, knowing you’ve been with another man. That another man has put his hands on what’s mine.” A surge of anger passed across Adam’s face, and his hands clenched. “I guess we’ll just take it one day at a time.”
Adam and Candace talked for another hour. Then she made lunch, and they ate together, before Adam dressed to go to the office.
“Will you be home for dinner?” she asked as he prepared to leave.
“I’ve been out of the office for a couple days, so I imagine it will be ten or so when I get back. Oh, and, Candace?”
“Yes, Adam?”
“I’ve put your things in one of the guest bedrooms. See you in the morning.”
Candace stared after her husband as he walked to the Mercedes in their circular drive and drove off. She was still standing there moments later, absorbing Adam’s words and the reality that life was still not back to normal. He’s let me back into his heart, but not into his bed. Turning away from the window, Candace climbed the steps to arrange her new sleeping quarters. You gave him gonorrhea, Candace. What did you expect? She was back in the house, and considering the circumstances, that was a big step. For now, Candace determined, it was enough.
43
“You did the right thing.” Ace slapped his brother on the back before walking around to the swivel chair behind his desk and plopping into it. Not only was it TGIF, but it was also thank-God-that-last-night-Candace-had-gone-back-home. “I know it was hard, brother, but it was right.”
“Yeah, I know.” Adam loosened his tie and leaned back in the comfortable leather chair, one
of two placed directly in front of Ace’s massive cherry oak workplace. It was ten-thirty at night, and the Livingston Group executive offices were quiet—he and Ace the only employees still there. Adam had relished being back in the workplace, had found it therapeutic to focus his mind on something other than Candace’s betrayal. He’d also enjoyed receiving the news that the Livingston Group had experienced a six percent increase in profit during the last quarter and that another large U.S. chain had agreed to carry all three flavors of Taste of Soul barbeque sauce—original, tangy, and extra spicy. He’d also enjoyed reading Malcolm’s detailed report regarding operations and had agreed to accompany his son on his next site visits. The day had reminded him that the situation at home notwithstanding, Adam Samuel Livingston had a lot to be thankful for.
“Diane is sure happy to see y’all back together,” Ace said. “She loves her sister-in-law but was glad to get her house back. I don’t know what it is with women, but they seem to like to be the only queen bee in the hive.”
“Yeah, Candace was glad to be home.”
“What about you? Glad to have her back?”
Adam shrugged. “I guess so.” He became quiet then, his brow furrowing as he stared into the distance.
“Talk to me, twin. What’s on your mind?”
Adam shook his head, remaining silent.
“Uh-huh. Well, then, let me tell you what’s on your mind. The man who had your woman.” Ace waited for Adam’s response. “Am I right?” he prodded.
Adam nodded slowly, anger showing in the way he ground his teeth.
“Man, I can feel where you’re coming from, but I hope you’re not thinking of doing anything crazy. You know our circle is like a fishbowl. Anything happens and everybody will know about it.”
All Up In My Business Page 17