My Husband's Mistress 2

by Racquel Williams

  I wanted to yell at his ass because, shit, nobody had an idea about the hell I was going through. I was tired of people pacifying me and telling me that it was gonna be okay. Hell no, it was not gonna be all right. My life was falling apart right in front of me.

  “I mean, I’m HIV-positive—better yet, scratch that. I just found out I have full-blown AIDS. So, am I supposed to walk around here all happy and shit? I try my best every damn day to please everybody in my life. There are fucking days when I am too weak to get out of bed, but I pop these damn pills, swallow my fucking pride, and get up, wash, cook, clean, and do my duties as a woman and a mother without complaining,” I cried out.

  “Babe, come here.” He rushed to my side of the table.

  “Don’t touch me. Don’t sit here and pretend like you know what the hell I’m going through.”

  He put his hands up in the air. “You know what? You’re right. I have no idea what you’re going through, but I’ve told you numerous times that you don’t have to take this walk alone. You need to stop trying to be this superwoman and let me help you. Ha-ha. I swear I know what you’re doing. You’re trying to push me away, woman, but I tell you what. I ain’t going no-damn-where. I’m here to stay, whether or not you like it. So you need to figure out a way to deal with it.”

  He threw the dishcloth down on the counter and rushed out of the kitchen. I sat there with a dumb-ass look on my face. I wanted to get up and run after him, but I was feeling too weak, and furthermore, I needed some time to myself. Spencer definitely wasn’t the kind of nigga that I wanted to go off on.

  I continued sitting at the table with my head on the counter and let the tears flow freely. The pain was so deep that I felt like it was a sharp knife slicing me inside.

  I dozed off, sitting in that same position. The slamming of the front door awakened me. I jumped up and walked out of the kitchen and noticed Amaiya walking in.

  “Where are you coming from? I thought you were in your room.”

  “Damn, Ma, do I have to tell you every time I come and go? I’m not a baby anymore, so please stop treating me like I’m two or something.” She tried to walk past me.

  “I’m going to tell you this for the last goddamn time. This is my shit, and you will respect my rules while you’re still living here. As a matter of fact, give me my damn house keys.”

  “Here you go.” She handed the keys to me. “You know you can’t lock me down forever, right? Whatever issues you have, you need to deal with them and stop taking it out on me.”

  “Little girl, go to your room and stay there.” I walked off on her ass. I was not playing with her ass, but my body wouldn’t physically let me address her the right way. There was no way her ass was going to keep talking to me like she was crazy. I needed to nip that shit in the bud before that heifer felt like she could address me any old way.

  Josiah Clarke

  I stood by my bed, staring at my mama’s picture. Her face was the last thing I looked at when I went to bed at night, and the first one I looked at when I woke up. It was about that time to visit her graveside again.

  I took a quick shower, smoked a blunt, then left and was on my way to see my mama. She was buried at Woodlawn Cemetery in the Bronx. This was only my second time going to visit her. It wasn’t because I didn’t want to. It was just too fucking painful for me.

  I parked and got out of the car with the rest of the blunt in my hand. I searched through the graves until I reached hers. Then I sat on the ground and just stared off into space.

  “Mama, guess who this is. Your baby boy,” I laughed. I remained quiet for a few. In my crazy mind, I was waiting to hear her respond to me or run one of her whack-ass jokes. That didn’t happen, and it only angered me. I started sniffling, trying my damnedest not to shed a tear, but I wasn’t strong enough. Before I knew it, I was lying on top of the grave, hugging it and bawling my eyes out.

  “Mama, I’m so sorry I didn’t treat you like the queen that you were. I’m sorry, Mama.” My voice cracked. I took out my lighter and lit the blunt again, took a few drags, and then continued bawling. “Mama, your baby boy has some good news, though. I plan on paying back all those motherfuckas that did you wrong. I know that bitch killed you over that nigga. That’s cool, though ’cause I got her and that little bitch. I promise I’ma make you proud. I promise.” I bawled some more because I wanted my mama. I had nobody in this world. I held my head as a sharp pain ripped through my brain. “I can’t live without you, Mama. I can’t. I swear, I need to be with you.” I continued talking to her. I just needed her to say something back.

  Finally, I was all cried out, and all of my weed was gone. I knelt so I could rub my hand across her name on the stone. Then I kissed the grave. “I love you, Mama. I fucking love you.” I got up and walked off, still shedding tears for my mama.

  I walked back to my car and jumped in. I was careful not to speed out of there because the Bronx River Parkway always parked the Bronx police. Today wasn’t the fucking day because I was riding dirty. I had crack and my burner on me. I won’t lie. I was on a mission, and nobody, including NYPD, was going to stand in my way.

  I picked up the phone and dialed Amaiya’s number.

  “Hey, bae.” Her sexy voice filled my ear.

  “Whaddup, ma? What you doing?”

  “Nothing. My mama’s trippin’ again. She done took my damn house key, and now I’m grounded.”

  “Damn, that’s fucked up. I’m sorry that you have to go through such drama, love. What happened to your dad? Can’t you stay with him for a while?”

  “Um, no. That nigga is in prison for some shit. I think he was cheating on my mama, then turned around and killed the woman.”

  “Damn, bae. I’m so sorry. You’ve had such a rough life. I promise you, I’m gonna get you out of all this shit.”

  “I don’t know how much more of this I can bear anymore. I can’t wait to graduate from school so that I can get the hell out of her house. Ugh, I’m about to lose my mind,” she yelled into the phone.

  “Baby, calm down. I told you, I got you. Just humble yourself. I’m about to get you out of this shit.”

  “Okay, you better hurry up, though, ’cause I feel like running away.”

  “Listen, boo, ain’t nothing or nobody that can stop me from seeing you. Believe that. Now, dry them motherfucking tears. The only time you need to be crying is when I’m pumping this dick inside of you.”

  “Shut up, boy,” she laughed.

  “That’s more like it, baby girl. Now, lemme hit you back later. Got some shit to handle in these streets.”

  “Love you.”

  “Love you too, baby girl.”

  It was not even funny how dumb that little bitch was. In another life, I could’ve easily made her my bitch. I quickly blocked her out of my mind and went back to plotting. The time had come for me to implement my next move.

  Hassan Clarke

  Who said that God wasn’t looking out for a black-ass nigga like me? I got a letter from the court, notifying me that my petition was granted for an appeal. I wasn’t the most religious-ass nigga, but fuck that. I got down on my knees and prayed to the big man. I knew it didn’t mean that I was going home, but, shit, it damn sure meant that I had a chance.

  I immediately jumped on the phone to call Tanya.

  “Hello.” She answered the phone as if she were tired.

  “Damn, why every time I call you, you sound so freaking depressed? Fuck, you acting like you the one that’s in prison.”

  “Hassan, you ever thought that it was because you called that I’m depressed?”

  “What the fuck you mean, baby?”

  “Hassan, I’m so tired of pretending like shit is cool between us. You’re locked the fuck up, so that means you can’t fuck me. Your ass is broke, so that means you can’t support me. So, please tell me why you think that I’m going to stick around? Is it because I’m a white bitch, and you think I’m stupid? Because I’ve got news for you. I am far from s
tupid. I loved you when you were out here, but you didn’t want me. You wanted those black, nappyheaded bitches. Well, guess what? Those bitches are not worried about your ass right now. Shit, that wife of yours might be fucking and sucking that nigga I saw her with one day when I drove past the house. Yes, sorry to inform you, but she has another nigga living up in your shit—”

  “Bitch, shut up talking stupid. I know that you’re hurting because I’m not there to take care of you and my little man. Don’t you worry, though. I called to let you know that I—”

  “Hello, hello, Tanya, you still there, bae?” I was tripping because the bitch was gone. All I heard was a dial tone in my ear. I knew that my time wasn’t up, and she did that bullshit. I looked at the other nigga on the phone. He was a nigga that I didn’t fuck with. He looked at me, smiling.

  “Nigga, what the fuck you looking at?”

  “Hold on, bae. Lemme holla at this fuck nigga real quick. Nigga, you mad ’cause yo’ bitch hung up on you. Shit, that other nigga must be breaking her back right now, and she couldn’t take the pressure, so she hung up,” he laughed.

  I balled my fists up and then stepped toward him. Something held me back, though. I still had the letter in my hand. There was no way that I was going to risk my freedom behind that fuck nigga who had no chance of ever seeing the streets again. Instead, I smiled at him. “You got that, my nigga.” I turned and walked out of the phone booth.

  I got in my bed tight at the way that bitch had just carried me on the phone. I grabbed my notepad to write that white bitch a letter, but my mind drew a blank. Angry, I threw the notepad down and jumped back out of bed. Quickly, I grabbed my radio and jetted out of the unit. The only way to get rid of some of that frustration was to run the track.

  Destiny Clarke

  I wasn’t feeling too good, but today was the day that Mama and I chose to get my wedding dress. Time was flying by, and I needed to get things in order. I pulled up at my mama’s address and honked the horn. Knowing her, I knew she was ready. That woman was always on time and would fuss at someone if they were not.

  I watched as she locked the garage and walked toward my car. I smiled every time I saw that lady. The way she walked with elegance was admirable. She could be going through the worst storm in her life, but you would never see her frowning, and she always walked with her shoulders straight.

  “For the first time in life, my child is on time,” she joked.

  “Whatever, lady. Put your seat belt on,” I laughed.

  “How you feeling today, baby?”

  “Same old, same old, but you know I have to keep on pushing through.”

  “I always tell you, God ain’t goin’ give you more than you can bear.”

  I rolled my eyes. I hope this day ain’t goin’ be spent on her preaching to me, I thought.

  “Have you thought about getting baptized? I think it would be a great idea to have a church that you go to regularly and have the support of the sisters in the church.”

  “Mama, I told you that I’m not ready for that, and, please, can you drop it right now? I’m not feeling too good.”

  “All right, I hope you not goin’ be ready when it’s too late.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief. Lady, shut the hell up already. The rest of the ride to the bridal shop on White Plains Road was in silence. I glanced over at her, and she had her eyes closed. I hated to be so hard on her, especially when I knew that she meant well. I just wasn’t in the mood to have anyone preaching to me. One day I’d get there, and I’d have a relationship with God, but just not right now.

  * * *

  I was surprised that I found the perfect Vera Wang dress. The minute I laid eyes on it, I knew that was the dress I wanted to walk down the aisle in. I got my measurements done, and we left.

  “A’ight, Mama. Now that we have that out of the way, how about I treat you to lunch?”

  “But, of course. Let’s go.” She burst out laughing.

  We decided to grab some food from this nice Chinese restaurant on Gun Hill Road. I sure miss living down this way, I thought.

  “Baby, you’re looking thinner than the last time I saw you. You sure you’re eating?”

  “Yes, Mama. I’m eating and taking my medicine.”

  “When was the last time you went to the doctor?”

  “Matter of fact, I just went to the doctor a few days ago.” I hung my head down.

  “And what they say?” She reached over to touch my hand.

  “I was...” I paused. “I was waiting to tell you. Mama, the doctor said that I have full-blown AIDS now.” I fought the tears.

  She tightened her grip on my hand. The silence between us was killing me.

  “Baby, you’ve been a fighter since the day you came out of the womb. I wasn’t there, but the social worker told me how you were treated as a baby, so I know that fighting is normal for you. This time is no different. You’re goin’ fight—we’re goin’ fight. I don’t care what man says. God has the final say over this. You may not pray, but trust me, your mama prays enough for both of us, and I promise you, you goin’ to make it. . . .” Her voice cracked.

  I took a tissue out of my pocketbook and used it to dab at my eyes. I tried not to cry because my face was dolled up, and I didn’t want to smear my makeup.

  “Here you go, ladies.” The waitress interrupted us.

  That was great because I was seconds away from crying a river in that restaurant. I looked at Mama and noticed that she’d been crying. Her wrinkles were now visible. Since I told her the news, it seemed like she had aged about twenty years. I ordered some chowder soup while she ordered rice and pepper steak. I tried to drink a few spoons of the soup, but I swear, I had no appetite. I didn’t want to force myself because I knew that I would throw it back up.

  After lunch, I dropped Mama off at her house. Before she got out of the car, she looked at me and smiled. All of the wrinkles I’d seen before had disappeared. “You know, you’re all I’ve got. I can’t lose you, baby girl. I just can’t. Fight with everything in you. Fight.” Those were the last words she said before she exited the car. I watched as she let up her garage door and walked in. Then I pulled off.

  I felt tired and drained and just wanted to go home and crawl in bed. I couldn’t, though, because I had a few stops to make. My phone started ringing. I looked at the screen, and I noticed that it was Spencer. Lord, that man stays checking up on me, I thought. I smiled and said, “Hello.”

  “Hey, love. Where are you? I thought you were at the house, but you’re not.”

  “You must’ve forgotten. I told you that Mama and I were going gown shopping today.”

  “Shit, yeah. I forgot.”

  “You home early today? You all right?”

  “Yeah, everything’s cool. I’ll see you when you get here.”

  “A’ight, babe. See you in a little while.”

  There was something about the sound of his voice. I wondered what was wrong. I hoped that nigga wasn’t getting cold feet on me. I shook the feeling off and continued driving.

  Macy’s wasn’t crowded, which was a great thing. I went straight to the MAC counter to get some makeup. I was a fool for good makeup and lipstick. Even though I didn’t feel my best most days, I still tried to look my best on the outside. I’d been lucky not to have bumps and dry skin because of the virus. Instead, my skin was clear, and my hair was growing so fast. I remembered the doctors saying that when HIV patients took their medicine regularly, their skin was flawless to the point where you would not know they had the virus.

  I paid for my items and left the mall.

  * * *

  I pulled into the driveway, thinking that all I needed was a hot shower, some ginger tea, and my bed. I parked, checked the mailbox, grabbed the mail, and walked into the house. I thought it was all trash, so I was about to throw the papers away when I noticed a letter from Hassan. I ripped it open, wondering how the fuck he got my new address.

  My Dearest Destiny,

&nb
sp; I hope this letter finds you in the best of health. How is my baby girl doing? Let her know her daddy loves her and would love to see her. I won’t be long. I just want you to know that not a day goes by that I’m not thinking of you and the bond that we shared. I loved you from the first day I laid eyes on you, and I will continue loving you for the rest of my love. Anyway, love, I won’t take up anymore of your time. I love you.

  Your man forever,

  Hassan

  “Amaiya!” I ran upstairs, hollering.

  “Amaiya!” I didn’t bother to knock. I just pushed the door open.

  “What are you yelling for?”

  “Have you talked to yo’ daddy lately?”

  “Noooo, why?”

  “How did he get my new address? I just got this letter in the mail.” I waved the letter in the air.

  “I ’ont know. Like I said, I ain’t talked to him. What he saying, though?”

  I gave her ass a stare down, and then I turned away and walked down the hallway. I swear that nigga just wouldn’t go away. I walked into the room where Spencer was and flopped down on the bed beside him.

  “What’s going on? Why were you yelling?”

  “This.” I waved the letter at him.

  “Who is that from?”

  “Who do you think? That bastard won’t leave me the fuck alone. And how the fuck is mail coming here from him? I never gave out my address.”

  “Remember, you asked the post office to transfer your mail. So, they did just that. Babe, listen to me. He’s just tryin’a get under your skin. That nigga ain’t got nothin’ but time on his hands, so he’s using that to torture you. Monday morning, you need to contact the prison and let them know that you’re one of his victims, and he keeps writing to you.”

  “I want it all to end—this virus, the pain, him—everything. I want it all to end.”

  He took my hand and used his other hand to lift my chin. “Babe, I hate that you’re hurting like this. If that nigga was out here, I would’ve buried him already, and he wouldn’t be around to terrorize you. But he’s in there, and I can’t reach him. That angers my soul.”