by Mary Monroe
I heard her let out a deep breath. As far as I was concerned, the conversation was over. But she kept it going.
“Do you want to know why your precious husband has such a hard time dealing with me?” There was a harsh look on her face as she yelled at me. And I didn’t like that one bit.
“I know why!” I yelled, throwing the covers back. “Because you are a straight-up whore. That’s why. I feel sorry for you.”
Inez moved closer to me, looking at me with so much contempt, I flinched.
“Do you want to know why Leon came after you in the first place?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked. “Leon approached me that night in the Victory Club because he was attracted to me, not because he knew that I was an easy piece, like you.”
“I had him,” Inez said in a calm voice. “I had your man.” The look on her face was disturbing. I had never seen such a leer on another human being’s face before in my life. For a split second, she looked like a gargoyle. Her words rang in my head like tubular bells.
Inez could not have caused me more pain with those words if she had just stabbed me in the heart with an ice pick.
CHAPTER 25
“Excuse me?” I managed, tilting my head. “What the hell are you saying to me, girl?” I asked, rubbing the spot on my chest where my injured heart was located.
“You heard me.” Inez didn’t bat an eyelash as she glared at me.
“You had him?” I shifted my eyes and shook my head. “Him who?” I demanded.
“I had Leon.”
I froze. I froze everywhere on my body. For a few seconds, the only things I could move were my eyes, and my eyes were on her face. I blinked hard as I rolled and shifted my eyes. The look on her face was now indescribable. I couldn’t decide if she looked smug or evil.
“What the hell are you talking about?” I finally managed to ask, my eyes still on her face.
Inez sucked in so much air, her cheeks expanded. She looked like a blowfish until she let out all of that air. “I fucked him inside out.” Each word that shot out of Inez’s mouth, aimed at me, felt like a dagger. Then an odd expression appeared on her face. She looked like she regretted what she’d just confessed. What happened next surprised me. Tears formed in her eyes, and she started sniffling, wiping her nose and tears away with the back of her hand.
I stood there in slack-jawed amazement. I could not believe what I had just heard.
“Say something!” Inez shouted. I couldn’t believe she was actually trembling. Tears were streaming down both sides of her face.
“You slept with my husband?” I managed.
“Yes,” she muttered, giving me a look of pity.
“How could you?” I croaked. I didn’t realize I’d balled my fists until I looked at my hands. Inez looked at them, too, and took a few steps back, holding up her hands. “My husband?” I mouthed, my fists still balled.
“It was long before he became your husband. It was during the time that I was separated from Paul.” Inez looked away for a moment, talking in a low voice. “Leon wanted to marry me. He knew I was going to divorce Paul, and he thought it was to marry him. But I married Vince instead. Leon had a fit. He promised me that he would always be in my life, one way or the other.” Inez looked at me and paused. I didn’t like the look of pity on her face. “I didn’t have a sister for him to hook up with, just so he could have an excuse to still be in my life.” Her voice cracked open like an egg, and she seemed genuinely frightened for a moment. A look came on her face that irritated me to the bone. She lifted her chin and blinked back her tears, and then she smiled. A crooked, mocking smile was on her face. “Once he found out about you, he decided that you were as good a substitute as any.” And just as fast as that smile appeared, it disappeared. She looked sad, beaten, and confused. The same way I felt. But I was also angry.
“Woman, are you telling me that the only reason Leon married me was so he could still be around you?” I marched up to her, ready to slap that stupid look off of her face. “How can I believe a slut like you?”
“I am not saying that that’s why he married you. Don’t put words in my mouth. I know he loves you now, but if it hadn’t been for me, he probably would not have given you the time of day in the first place.”
“You are a goddamned, lying, whoring ass bitch. I never dreamed you’d stoop this low!” I screamed, my whole body trembling.
“Let’s call him,” she said in a calm voice, nodding toward the telephone. Before I could stop her, she picked it up and started dialing. I sprinted across the floor and snatched it out of her hand, recalling the night that Leon had dialed her number when I’d asked him if he was having an affair with her.
“Why didn’t you tell me all of this shit before?” I wailed.
“I tried to tell you as soon as I found out you were interested in him. But you never wanted to hear anything bad about your man. He and I had several heated discussions about how he was using you just to get back at me. Starting that first night he saw you with me at the Victory Club.”
“Why didn’t you tell me all this before I married this man and had his baby? Why did you let me live a lie for over six years?” I couldn’t believe that the shrill voice coming out of my mouth belonged to me. I sounded like a shrew. I was sure that I looked like one, too, because my face was twisted into such an angry grimace, it ached.
“I just told you! And I tried to tell you more than once. But when it seemed like you both were happy together, I stayed out of your business. And since we’re bringing everything out in the open, you need to know that he did everything he could to get back in my bed after he married you.”
“And did you let him?” I whimpered, so weak that I could barely stand.
“No! Hell, no! I would never fuck a married man. Leon started hating me as soon as I told him what a bastard he was for using you as an excuse to remain in my life.”
“You can have him. If what you are saying is true, I will divorce his black ass, and you can move him in with you.” I was wringing my hands so hard, they got numb. “But let me tell you one thing. I plan to take him for everything he’s got, so you’d better prepare yourself to pay his bills, buy gas for his car, help him keep all those goddamned suits of his dry-cleaned, help him support his other child and her mother, and my child, too. The whole nine yards!” I yelled, shaking my finger in Inez’s face and rotating my neck. The bile rising in my throat tasted like poison.
“Renee, I don’t want to be with Leon. I am your friend, not his. I have always tried my best to be there for you, and whether you believe it or not, I’ll still be there for you.” Inez smiled, and I think that’s what sent me over the edge. I lunged at her. I slapped her face on both sides so hard that she stumbled and fell to the floor, her long legs flailing like a chicken that had just been decapitated. “Fuck you,” she said in an even voice, rising. “I hope you will enjoy the rest of your vacation.”
That was the last thing she said to me before she stormed out of the room.
CHAPTER 26
I spent the next two hours with a bottle of wine in one hand and the telephone in the other, trying to get in touch with Leon. I didn’t leave him any messages, because I wanted him to hear what I had to say out of my mouth, not from an answering machine. I was getting drunk, and more disgusted, wondering where in the hell he was.
I finally gave up and went to bed, but I didn’t sleep at all that night. I could still hear Inez telling me that the only reason Leon approached me was so he could still be in her life. Each time I replayed her words in my head, I sizzled with rage. I didn’t know which one disgusted me more: Inez or Leon.
I knew that some men did some stupid shit when it came to women, but I found it hard to believe that one would marry one woman just to spite another. If what Inez said was true, then the last six years of my life had been a farce. It was hard enough to think that Leon didn’t really love me, but where did that leave our daughter, Cheryl?
I had t
o know, and I had to know before I faced him again. When morning arrived, I tried to call him again, but I was not successful. I finally dozed off for a few hours, expecting to wake up and find Inez back in the room. Around noon, when I checked with the front desk, I found out that not only had she not left any messages for me, she had transferred to another hotel! Housekeeping had been instructed to pack her baggage and send it by taxi to the other hotel. The only consolation was that she had paid our hotel bill in full and had preapproved any additional room service I ordered.
I had a massive hangover, and my head felt like it was about to explode. But my head was not the only part of my body that was in pain. My stomach was in so many knots that I could barely walk in an upright position. I had slapped Inez so hard that the palm of my right hand, and my wrist, throbbed like a toothache. My throat was sore from yelling at her so hard.
When the maid came to clean the room, I went out on the balcony, where I finally broke down and cried like a baby. Now I had to deal with burning, itching eyes, too. My mind was in a frenzy. I swayed every time I stood up, and I had to hold on to the wall to keep from falling on the balcony floor. I was glad that the balcony had such a high railing because it would have been so easy for me to accidentally tumble to the ground. There were two lounge chairs on the balcony. I plopped down on one, hugging my heaving chest as I let the tears roll.
I had to think back over the years and wonder what I had done to deserve such unspeakable betrayal. Other than what I’d done to my ex, Robbie, I didn’t think that I had done anything bad enough for my life to be in the state it was. Hell, I’d done a lot more good than most of the people I knew! I was a role model for the kids I taught, I contributed to charity, and I’d even sent my last bonus check from work to the Red Cross to help the victims of Hurricane Katrina. The big question in my mind was, what good had it done me to do so much good? If my marriage fell apart, what would become of me? I was thankful that I’d still have a lot of positive things in my life, like my job, my precious daughter, and the rest of my family. And unless I had a nervous breakdown before I got back home, I’d still have my health.
I didn’t want to be pitied. I didn’t want people writing me off as just another weak woman who went to pieces because she couldn’t handle her business. I vowed right then and there that I wasn’t going to let Inez and Leon destroy me. I was going to come out of this mess with some dignity and class. I didn’t care what it took; I would do whatever I had to do so that I could still hold my head up.
The longer I remained in the room by myself, wondering where Leon was and whom he was with, the worse I felt. I paced the floor like a caged panther. I didn’t know what to do to ease the pain, but I had to do something.
Around seven that night, I called room service and ordered a steak sandwich. It was the first thing that I’d put in my stomach since the evening before. Right after I finished gobbling up the steak, I took a quick shower. As soon as I towel-dried myself, I slipped into a pair of white shorts and one of the see-through tops that I’d packed. Then I was out the door. I flagged down the first taxi I saw and jumped into the back seat while it was still moving.
“Take me to a club where I won’t run into any tourists,” I told the young taxi driver.
“I don’t know if such a club is on this island, senorita. This is a small place,” the driver told me, giving me an apologetic glance in the rearview mirror.
“Well, there must be at least one club where I won’t run into too many tourists,” I insisted. The main tourist that I didn’t want to run into was Inez McPherson, of course.
“Well, there are a couple of clubs on the south end of the island that most tourists avoid.” The driver gave me another apologetic look before he finished. “They cater to a more, uh, uninhibited crowd.”
“Sounds good to me,” I chirped, my eyes looking out of the window.
A few minutes later, my driver stopped in front of a small brown building with a green door. I could hear reggae music blasting from inside before I even got out of the taxi.
“This is the Cockpit Club. One of the oldest establishments on this island. If you like to dance, this is the place to be,” the cab driver told me.
“Do they speak English in this place?”
“We are a bilingual island. You’d be hard pressed to find someone within city limits who does not speak English.” The driver turned around to face me, watching me as I watched a fierce-looking man with a bullet-shaped bald head and bare feet snatch open the green door and enter the club. “Just be careful. An American got himself stabbed to death in this club recently.”
“Oh?” I said, removing my hand from the door handle.
“But he was asking for trouble. A room full of witnesses swore that it was a case of self-defense. The police didn’t even hold the man who did the stabbing.”
“Oh.” I shrugged with relief, reaching for the door handle.
I paid the driver and gave him a decent tip. Then I hopped out of the taxi in such a hurry that I almost fell to the ground. As soon as I opened the heavy green door and entered the club, I felt refreshed. There were wall-to-wall men in this place, and all eyes were immediately on me. It looked like a scene out of the movie Scarface. Men of all different sizes and shades of brown strutted around in light-colored suits, loud-colored shirts and ties, gaudy jewelry. Some had on white Panama hats, and others had slick-backed hairdos and thick, bushy mustaches. There was so much machismo in front of me that I had to blink hard to bring everything into focus.
I got asked to dance three times in English and Spanish before I even made it to a table. And this was just what I wanted: attention.
I wasn’t myself that night, in more ways than one. Under normal circumstances, I never would have climbed on top of a table and danced a jig like I did. I paid for my own drinks until I got down to my last ten dollars. From this point on, I boldly asked each man that I danced with to buy me another drink.
I had a table near the stage, where a young DJ was playing all the latest tunes from America, but I spent most of my time on the dance floor. I don’t know if it was my age that finally caught up with me, or my senses. But all of a sudden, I started feeling tired and bored. There were a few other women in the club, all of them attractive, and that was the fuel that kept me going. I was holding my own, and better than I thought I could. More men were asking me to dance than any other woman in the club, and that gave me even more confidence and courage.
“Would you like some company later tonight?” a man whispered in my ear from behind. When I turned around and saw that it was the bald-headed, barefooted man that I’d seen entering the club when I arrived, I almost screamed. His teeth were almost as brown as his complexion. His breath was as foul as cow dung.
“I’m…uh…expecting someone,” I lied.
“An imbecile, I presume.” Baldhead’s English was so pronounced, he sounded British. I found his accent intriguing. However, I couldn’t get past his bald head, brown teeth, bare feet, and bad breath.
“Excuse me? Why would you say something like that?” I asked. There was something about anger that gave me courage that I didn’t know I had. Anger also made me do things that I would never consider, like go to a strange bar in a strange country by myself, looking for somebody who would prove to me that I was still an attractive woman.
“A man would have to be an imbecile to let such a lovely woman be on her own in a place like this. You’ve been on your own for some time now. I’ve been watching you. I know that you are here with no one in particular.”
“Uh, my boyfriend had to work late. But he’ll be here any minute,” I said, rising from my seat, my eyes scanning the room. As if it had been planned, I looked into the eyes of the same man who had caused that first bout of friction between Inez and me: Jose. He looked so dapper in his white linen suit and red shirt. A white Panama hat rode his thick red hair.
I didn’t wait for Jose to come to me. I rushed over to him. “Jose, I am so happy to see yo
u again!” I had to yell to be heard over the loud music. He seemed pleased, but surprised.
“Have we met?” he asked.
I nodded. “Don’t you remember me? Are you with someone?” I asked, looking behind him. “I hope not, because I want to show you a really good time tonight.” I nudged him with my bare knee. I didn’t know how to interpret the strange look he gave me. But then he smiled and followed me to my table, with me leading him by the hand.
“You are from Ontario, yes?” he said, sitting. I sat down, too, making sure our knees touched.
“Ohio,” I said. “I teach second grade,” I said proudly, immediately wishing that I could take my last sentence back. One thing I had learned was not to volunteer too much information about myself, unless it was interesting. Most men were not impressed with schoolteachers, unless they were one themselves. Like that man Inez had snatched practically out of my arms the night before. “Are you with someone?” I asked again, hoping he would say no. Some of the men had been pretty aggressive, trying to pull me to their tables or off into a darkened corner. One even tried to drag me into the men’s room, kissing me up and down my neck all the way. I had to slap his hand for him to release me.
I felt safe with Jose. And comfortable. Comfortable enough to tell him about my fight with Inez. I left no stone unturned, even referring to her as my ex-best friend. Jose listened with wide eyes, nodding, shaking his head, totally in my corner.
“And where is that vixen now?” he asked, scanning the club.
“I don’t know where that woman is, and I don’t care. She checked out of our hotel, and knowing her, she’s probably shacked up with some other woman’s man right about now.” I gave Jose a weary look. “That’s the kind of woman she is. She’s just that bold and nasty. You saw how she jumped on you, even though you were talking to me!”