He’d never been good at cheating, though. She’d always caught him, or at least she liked to believe that she did. She was sure that the romp he’d had two weeks ago wasn’t the first in the last three years.
She lay back on the bed as a headache suddenly overcame her. How had he done it when he spent all of his time with her, and Julian and Lauren? When had he found time to cheat?
Maybe what he’d done two weeks ago was just an aberration. But a second after she had that thought, she doubted it.
Once a cheat, always a cheat. He’d been cheating on her; she just didn’t know how.
Now she had to figure out what to do. Was she really ready to do something this time? In the early years when she’d stayed, she blamed her weakness on her children. Raising young children was always better with both parents. But Lauren was thirteen now, Julian seventeen. What was her excuse now? Why couldn’t she find the strength to leave?
Because when he’s good, he’s so, so good.
Plus, she’d tried leaving before. Twice. She squeezed her eyes shut at those memories, but still her mind took her back to the first time she tried to love herself more than she loved Vernon.
Joyce had been suspicious, since Vernon had never fired the law clerk like he’d promised, telling her that he was new at the firm and he couldn’t make hiring and firing decisions. But he made other promises.
“I promise that nothing will ever happen with me and Alicia again.”
“I promise that I will never hurt you again.”
“I promise that I love you.”
She’d tried her best to believe his promises, but then when Julian was only six months old, Alicia had been bold enough to call their home.
“I want to inform you that Vernon and I are in love,” she said with the assurance of a woman who was having a torrid affair. “He’s only staying with you because of the baby.”
Alicia described their trysts, all the different times that she had been with her husband, in lurid detail.
“He told me that if it weren’t for Julian, he would marry me.”
Joyce was sure that Alicia had embellished the facts, but at the core of Alicia’s story was the truth—she was having an affair with Vernon. Joyce’s bags were almost completely packed before she hung up the phone. She wasn’t going to give Vernon a chance to charm her this time. She wasn’t going to give him a chance to sway her with another one of his sad apologies. This time when he came home from work, she and their baby would already be gone.
The only thing was, Joyce didn’t really have anywhere to go—except back home. She’d showed up at her parents’ door without any warning, praying that they wouldn’t ask any questions.
She’d showed up just after five, and both her mother and father had already come home from work. Of course, they’d let her in with their arms wide open. But while her mother gave her the space she asked for, her father wasn’t having it. As soon as she laid Julian down to sleep, he grilled Joyce to the point of tears, asking, “What are you doing here? What did Vernon do to you? Does he know you’re here?”
He shot questions at her rapid-fire, ignoring the fact that he had reduced her to tears. That made Joyce’s mother finally step in.
“Leave her alone, Charles,” she said. “Joyce, go to your room and pull yourself together. We’ll take care of Julian.”
She didn’t have to tell Joyce twice. Joyce bolted from the room and headed to the place that had given her childhood solace. Her room was still the same, as if her parents had expected her to return home someday.
She lay down on the twin bed that she’d had since she was six and closed her eyes. She slept for long hours, and when she awoke, the clock on the nightstand told her it was close to midnight.
Her stomach growled and she rolled over and out of the bed. As her feet hit the floor, she heard a tap on her door. Before she could answer, her father stuck his head in.
“How are you feeling?”
Seeing him, remembering how he’d reacted to her coming home, made her wish that she’d slipped back under the covers, pretending to be asleep. But there was nothing she could do now. She clicked on the lamp on the nightstand. “I’m okay, I guess.”
He nodded his head and took a cautious step into her room. “You know I just want what’s best for you.”
“I know.”
“Come on out here.” He motioned with his head toward the door. “We all need to talk.”
“We?” Joyce’s eyes narrowed. “Who . . . is . . . we?”
“Me, you, Vernon, and your mama.”
“He’s here?” She glanced at the clock once again. “It’s too late to do any talking,” she said wearily. “And anyway, I don’t want to talk to him.”
Her father’s look was as firm as his tone. It was the expression that he used to give her when she was a child. And now, like then, she felt like she was in trouble. “Look, you made the decision to drop out of school for this man. You made your bed and now it’s time to lie in it.”
“So, you think it’s okay that he hurt me?”
“Did he hit you?”
Why was he asking that question? “No, of course not.”
“Then anything other than that, you can work through it. Now, come on,” her father said.
Joyce couldn’t believe it. Even though she hadn’t told her father what had happened, he had to know. He had to know that Vernon was a cheater. Did he want that for his daughter?
But before she could explain more, he’d marched out of the bedroom. So she did the only thing she could—she got up and reluctantly followed him through the hallway and finally into the dining room.
Vernon was sitting at the table, his eyes drooping and bloodshot, like he’d been beat up by someone. Her mother sat stone-faced across from him. Her father took a seat at the head of the table, then motioned for Joyce to sit next to Vernon. She sat two seats over, grateful that their dining room table sat eight.
Her father assessed the two of them, glancing back and forth. “Does someone want to tell me the problem?” he asked in his supervisor’s voice.
When neither of them responded, her father bellowed, “Hello, am I speaking a foreign language?”
Still, silence.
Her father released a frustrated sigh. “When you stood before that minister and said until death do you part, those were not words to be taken lightly.”
Vernon finally spoke. “Sir, this is all my fault.” He took a deep breath to stall. Then, with more courage than Joyce thought he had, Vernon said, “I have been unfaithful to your daughter.”
Joyce’s mouth opened wide, but then her father shocked her as much as Vernon just had.
“Did you love the woman?”
Why was he asking Vernon that? Joyce wondered. Why was he asking anything? Joyce had expected her father to snatch Vernon by the collar and throw him out of the house.
But when he didn’t do that, she answered before Vernon could. “He’s a liar,” Joyce said. “He told me he’d fire her and he just kept screwing her.” Facing her husband, she added, “Vernon is a liar and a cheat!”
Her father ignored her. Instead, he stared at Vernon until he finally replied, “Absolutely not, sir. I love no one but your daughter.” He turned his body totally toward Joyce. He spoke to her father, but his eyes were on his wife. “I love her with everything inside of me. I don’t want to lose my family.”
“You should’ve thought about that before you cheated on me.”
“You’re right,” Vernon said in a voice so low it could hardly be called a whisper.
A heavy silence hung in the air before Joyce’s father said, “Son, is my daughter not enough for you?”
Vernon shook his head. “On the contrary. She is everything I want and more.”
“Then, why?” Joyce’s mother spoke for the first time. With a glare she said, “If you love her so much, why would you cheat?” Then, with a move that Joyce did not miss, her mother slowly turned her gaze to her husband. “I don�
�t understand how you could say you love her and then cheat on her like that.”
While her mother kept her gaze on her husband, he kept his eyes pinned on Vernon. He was avoiding his wife’s silent condemnation, and Joyce had a terrible suspicion that she knew why. Her father? And mother?
“I don’t know why.” Vernon lowered his head. “I don’t have an answer. I could try to make up some excuses, but they’d be just that, excuses. I just want her to give me another chance.”
“I gave you another chance.”
“He’s said that he loves you,” Joyce’s father said to Joyce. “This affair, it doesn’t mean anything to him.”
Joyce’s eyes widened. There were so many things she wanted to say to her father—like tell him that he should be coming to her defense, not Vernon’s.
“His affair had to mean something since he was willing to hurt me over it. Or are you saying that it’s okay to break my heart?”
“The bottom line,” her father said, leaning forward on the table, “is you two have a commitment to one another. You have a son. You made vows. For better or for worse. This is the worse. But you can get through this.”
Joyce shook her head in disbelief.
He continued: “Joyce, you know you are my everything, but I cannot in good conscience contribute to the breakdown of your family.”
“What does that mean?” she asked sharply.
“That means, go in there and get your things, and go home with your husband.”
“Charles!” her mother said.
“No, it’s settled.” He sat back, but he didn’t give Vernon a total pass. “You need to get it together, son. What you’re not going to do is continue to hurt my daughter.”
Joyce felt a little relief. There was the man she’d expected to stand up for her. But still, he was sending her home and that brought tears to her eyes.
“She’s given up everything for you,” her father continued. “Her education, her career. My grandson needs his father. So go home and work this out.”
The tears thickened in Joyce’s eyes, but Vernon wore a smile that was big enough for both of them.
“Thank you so much, Mr. Thornton. I promise, I’m going to spend my life making your daughter happy.”
“Good,” was all that her father said.
Joyce sat in a state of shock. This man had told her father that he cheated, and her father had basically said that she needed to get over it. That was not the way for a father to protect his daughter, so Joyce turned to her mother. But her mother lowered her head as if they’d both gone down in defeat.
It was obvious to Joyce that her mother didn’t agree with her father’s decision, but she wasn’t going to challenge him. She never challenged him on anything.
“Go on,” Joyce’s father said. “Go on and get your bag. Your mother will get Julian.”
“Come on, baby,” Vernon said, taking her arm, helping her up. “Let’s go home.”
Joyce’s eyes popped open, snapping her away from that memory. Maybe that’s why Vernon kept cheating, because he’d got her back so easily the first time. She set the standard for her marriage that day. A man would only do what you allowed him to do. And she’d allowed the women, and so the women kept coming.
Sitting up, Joyce reached for the receipt again. What she needed to do was file this away with her important papers. She might need it in divorce court because right now, that looked like where she and her husband were headed.
Lauren loved these days at church. Sunday morning was the only time when Lauren was hopeful that her family would stay together.
Outside of church, her family was falling apart. Her mother and father yelled and fought so much, she was sure one of these days her father would just pack his bags and walk out.
She couldn’t quite determine why her parents were fighting so much. They always stopped fighting when she walked into the room. But she figured it had to stem from all the lady friends that her father had.
Even though she’d kept her father’s secret, her mother had to know. So many nights her father had come home late. Or at least that’s what her mother yelled about during their arguments, and Lauren had been awake a few times herself when he’d come home after midnight and she’d started yelling.
Even so, Lauren wasn’t prepared for what happened on the steps of their church, right after Sunday service. Lauren clearly read the look of horror on her mother’s face when a woman stomped toward them in a too-tight zebra print dress that was completely inappropriate for church. Her long auburn hair bounced like she was doing a shampoo commercial.
Lauren’s mother stood poised to perfection, the consummate southern belle ready to fend off a rival.
The woman didn’t give Joyce a second look, though. “Well, look at the happy family,” she sneered. All of the people gathered in front of the church could tell that she was about to go off. Lauren could tell by the way they were trying to pretend they weren’t watching. But Vernon kept a smile on his face as he leaned toward the angry woman and whispered, just loud enough that Lauren overheard, “Cecile, have you lost your mind coming here? Don’t ever disrespect my family like this again.”
Lauren wasn’t able to make out what he said after that. But whatever his magic words were, they were enough for Cecile to force a grin as she took a step back. “Mr. Robinson, I’m sorry for any misunderstanding,” she said. “I just came over because they’re trying to take my mama’s house away, and I really need you to finish my paperwork.”
Lauren knew that even though her father was a big-time attorney, he did a lot of work for free. Correction, a lot of work for women for free. But even Lauren knew that nobody was buying Cecile’s fake-sounding explanation.
“Well, Sundays are my family time,” Vernon casually replied. “Call my office in the morning and we can take it from there.” He raised his voice an octave to ensure all the nosy folks heard. He didn’t say another word as he took his wife’s hand, motioned for Lauren and Julian, and walked down the steps with the coolness of the October breeze that swept over the lawn of New Hope Baptist Church. Still, Lauren was mighty glad when they reached their black Cadillac.
Tension filled the car, but no one said a word until they were three blocks from the church.
“You must think I’m stupid,” her mother said from the front seat.
“Not now, Joyce,” Vernon said, not taking his eyes off the road.
“When then?”
“When we’re not in front of the children,” he said through gritted teeth.
Lauren and Julian were sitting in the backseat. Julian was playing on a handheld game, blocking out their impending fight. Lauren never knew if her brother did that on purpose or if that was his escape mechanism, but she always watched her parents with bated breath.
“I can’t believe you can’t keep your hoes in check,” her mother snapped.
“I don’t have any hoes,” Vernon replied, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. “And we’re not going to talk about this now.”
“Who is she, Vernon?”
“She’s a client,” he replied.
“You think I’m stupid. That’s what it is. You think I’m a fool. But you know, I’d think I was a fool, too, since my fool behind keeps taking your cheating ass back.”
“Would you. Just. Shut. Up?”
Her mother reached over and smacked him on the side of his head nearest her. It caused him to swerve and Lauren froze in terror, wondering if her father was going to turn around and slap her back. But instead he navigated the car off to the side of the road. He got out, walked over to the passenger side, and pulled her out of the car.
“Have you lost your damn mind?” he screamed, slamming the car door. “Don’t you ever put your hands on me.”
They continued to fight, argue, and scream. And Julian continued to play his game.
Tears ran down Lauren’s cheeks at the way her parents were going at it. Finally, her father threw up his hands and came back around the back
of the car. When he opened his door, and Lauren saw her mother still standing outside, her heart dropped. That made Julian look up, too.
“Put your seat belts on!” her dad snapped to them as he started the car. That was strange because no one had been worried about a seat belt when they pulled away from the church.
Julian looked out the window at their mother screaming and crying and finally spoke up. “Dad, we’re not leaving Mom here, are we?”
“Your mother is having a meltdown and I’m not about to deal with that mess.” He started to pull out.
“We can’t leave Mom!” Julian cried.
“You that worried about her, get out and walk home with her,” her father snapped, slamming on the brakes.
Julian glared at the back of her father’s head. It’s like the older Julian got, the more he couldn’t stand their father. The two of them argued all of the time. This time, though, Julian didn’t say a word as he slowly opened the door and got out of the car. Meanwhile, Lauren sat in silence.
“You going, too?” Vernon yelled. He took a deep breath and said, “Or are you still Daddy’s girl and rolling with me?”
Lauren looked through the rear window at her crying mother. Julian was hugging her, trying to comfort her. It was a sad sight. But Lauren didn’t want her father to be alone. That’s what she was always afraid of, him going off alone and leaving them. “I’m going with you, Daddy.”
Forsaking all others.
Joyce wasn’t sure why that portion of her marriage vows flashed through her mind at this very moment. No, she knew exactly why. She needed the reminder as she stared at the six-foot-three, two-hundred-pound man who looked like Denzel Washington’s little brother and was standing at her door.
“Hello, Mrs. Robinson,” he said. When she didn’t respond he said, “It’s me, Norman Martin.”
Norman was the man who had sold them their life insurance policy. But he’d been an overweight nerd with dreadlocks.
The Perfect Mistress Page 4