The Perfect Mistress

by ReShonda Tate Billingsley

  Lauren wished she were at home with Matthew, working this out, not in Target buying supplies to make her mother comfortable. Lauren still wasn’t feeling the idea of settling her mother in Matthew’s place, but she knew he was right about it being the best place for her, especially now that she knew everything that was going on with Julian.

  Julian.

  She was still shocked that her brother—who grew up despising what his father had done—had turned around and done the exact same thing.

  Vernon Robinson had really messed his kids up.

  But Lauren was determined to stop focusing on the past, and worry about the present.

  That’s if she still had a present with Matthew.

  “Well, if it isn’t Raleigh’s resident ho.”

  Lauren spun around to come face-to-face with Dana, her ex-lover Craig’s scorned wife.

  Judging from her look of contempt, Dana no longer bought their story. “You know, my gut told me not to believe that cockamamy story you gave me about Craig buying jewelry for me and a spa day,” she continued. “But you were so convincing and I thought surely, this woman wasn’t so low to lie for my husband. And yes, I wanted to give my husband the benefit of the doubt,” she said, sneering at that notion. “I guess that’s what you were counting on, though. Of course, his other long-term side chick outed him.” She laughed at the expression on Lauren’s face. “What, you thought you was the only one? Hmph. Well, the other side chick busted him when she informed me that she was HIV-positive.” She gave Lauren a measuring look. “Have you been tested? I have, since you know we were all screwing each other.”

  Lauren gasped and almost fell over backward. HIV? She and Craig had used protection, but nothing was foolproof.

  The look on Lauren’s face made Dana bust out laughing. “Ha. I’m just kidding about the HIV, but it could’ve happened. And well, you just never know, so you might want to check that out.”

  Lauren stared at Dana in disbelief. “Really? Who does that?”

  “Yes, really. I should’ve let you keep wondering, but I’m not low-down like you.”

  Lauren shook her head. “That is the most childish thing I’ve ever heard.”

  “Don’t try to judge me,” she snapped.

  Lauren didn’t know what to say. Number one, she wasn’t in the mood for this girl. Number two, this was exactly why she only messed with powerful men, because she didn’t do ghetto drama. Craig had wooed her with his rugged good looks and near-perfect body.

  “Whatever. I don’t know what you’re talking about, so excuse me.” She tried to step around Dana.

  Dana moved in her way to prevent Lauren from going around. “Nah, I don’t think so,” she said. “You know, I saw the press conference.” She folded her arms across her chest. “Alienation of affection, huh? I wonder if we can make that a class-action lawsuit. Maybe we can take an ad out in the Sunday paper.” She motioned in the air. “If Lauren Robinson screwed your man, please call 1-800-KILL-THAT-THOT and join our class action lawsuit.”

  Lauren glared at her. “I’m not even going to dignify you.”

  Lauren tried to step around again, but this time Dana put a hand on her shoulder.

  Lauren glanced down at Dana’s hand. “If you don’t get those Klingon nails off of me . . .”

  Dana stepped in her face. “Then, what?” A momentary silence hung between them. “That’s what I thought. How long were you screwing my husband?”

  Lauren wanted to tell Dana everything she did that Dana didn’t, but she’d left that part of her life behind her. She didn’t need another scorned wife in her life right now.

  “Look, I don’t know what you and Craig have going on. I haven’t seen him since you came charging me up that day in the hotel.”

  Dana folded her arms. “I don’t believe a thing you say.”

  “And I don’t care what you believe. Your issue shouldn’t be with me. It should be with your husband,” Lauren said.

  “Hmph, speaking of husband, you still gonna have one? I went to Carolina State. And I agree with what they’re saying on social media. We don’t want a president that can’t tell his wife is a ho.”

  That stung. But Lauren was determined not to show it. “Look, little girl. You have no idea the hell I have been through. And as you know, stuff in my life is already jacked up. What’s one more murder charge?”

  That made Dana step back. People often mistook her prissy nature for weakness. But she was two seconds from snapping.

  “Now, if I were you, I’d go home and check my husband, because I’m sure you didn’t put him out. And by the way, tell him to lose my damn number and stop texting and calling me. Now, move your ghetto ass out the way before they have to call for a cleanup on aisle two.”

  Dana glared at her hard, but she did step to the side.

  Lauren composed herself and strutted to the front to pay for her items. She was so sick of these men and their wives. Someone was out to ruin her, but Lauren doubted that Dana had the brainpower to set her up. Who in the world could it be? As she paid for her purchases, she made a decision. Screw what Matthew said about leaving this alone. She was determined to get to the bottom of things and end her personal drama.

  Lauren paced back and forth across the plush carpet of Thomas’s downtown office. The receptionist was giving her the side eye, and Lauren could tell the woman couldn’t wait for her to leave so that she could get on the phone and gossip with her friends about the raving lunatic who had just demanded to see her boss.

  As Lauren wore a hole in the Berber carpet, she couldn’t help but think that maybe showing up here wasn’t such a great idea. But it was too late for regrets. She was here now and she wasn’t leaving until she talked to Thomas.

  “Ms. Robinson.” Thomas appeared in his office doorway, wearing a classic Armani suit, which must have cost three thousand dollars. He plastered on a fake smile, no doubt for his secretary. “Come on in.”

  The secretary smirked at the two of them. Any other time Lauren would’ve given her one right back, but today she was on a mission.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” Thomas said as soon as the door was closed. “Why are you showing up at my office like this?”

  “Alienation of affection? Really?” Lauren waved a copy of the lawsuit in his face.

  “You think I want this?” he said, lowering his voice. “This is bad for business. My wife is losing her damn mind. And here you come giving her more ammunition. There is no telling what kind of spies she has around here.”

  “I thought you had your wife under control. That’s what you always tell me.”

  He huffed, his Ivy League education taking a backseat to his hood upbringing. “Look, I got enough drama. I don’t need you trippin’, too.”

  “I don’t need this,” she shot back. “I’m about to get married.”

  Thomas stared at her. “What?”

  “Married.”

  “So, what does that mean for us?” His whole tone had changed.

  She flung the papers at him. “Are you freaking kidding me? There is no us. Your wife is suing me.”

  “My wife is crazy. I figured since I’m headed for divorce court now, you and I—”

  It was Lauren’s turn to be shocked. At no time had Thomas acted like he expected anything other than a booty call.

  “You figured I’d be sitting around waiting on you? It doesn’t work like that, Thomas.”

  He held his hands up. “Whoa. Who are you and what have you done with my Lauren?”

  “You don’t have a Lauren. You have a woman that stroked your ego and told you what you needed to be told at that time. She was your side chick.” Uttering the words made her cringe.

  He stepped forward and tried to hug her. “Well, now she can be my main chick.”

  Lauren pushed his arms back. “I don’t want to be your main chick. I want you and your crazy-ass wife to leave me alone.”

  He looked wounded after his advance had been repelled. “She’s tryi
ng to get ammunition, that’s all.”

  “By suing me? And stalking me?”

  “Stalking?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh, no. She might’ve filed the lawsuit, but she would never stoop to stalking. She’ll try to take us both down, but not harassment.”

  “Oh, that makes me feel so much better,” Lauren quipped.

  “Look, just lie low. She’s just mad because she found the hotel bill for our trip to Paris. All this will die down soon.”

  Lauren glared at him in disgust. “Thomas, we didn’t go to Paris.”

  He paused. “What?”

  “No, asshole. That was your other side chick.”

  “Oh, dang.” He stepped closer to her again. “Well, that’s beside the point. All of that will die down. She’s moving forward with the divorce, talking about she has enough to take me for half.” He had the audacity to laugh. “It’s cool because it’s only half of what she knows about.”

  What was she thinking when she hooked up with this man? “Just get your wife in check.” The last thing Lauren needed was her name dragged through the mud. Not at a time like this.

  “I think we need to go away for the weekend,” Thomas said smoothly. “Let’s go to the Caribbean, get our heads together.”

  “I think you need to get your wife together.” Lauren stormed toward the door. “Make this go away, Thomas. You claim to be such a big shot, make it go away.”

  “So, can I call you later?” he called out after her.

  “You can go to Hell and lose my number.”

  She stomped out of his office, past the nosy receptionist, and back outside to her car. Once inside, she fell back against the seat and rubbed her temples. She still didn’t know how Teresa found out all that information.

  Lauren felt her stomach churning as she imagined how long the list could turn out to be.

  Who wants to know when they’re going to die? Definitely not Joyce. She would’ve much preferred that death stole in at night and took her that way, because this way was Hell on earth.

  When Lauren arrived to pick her up this morning, Joyce was intent on greeting her with a smile and a positive attitude. But the cancer had other plans. She’d woken up to excruciating pain. The nurses had given her meds that had alleviated the agony some, but her head was still throbbing.

  “Come on. Stand up,” Lauren said.

  Joyce kept her face stoic as Lauren and Matthew helped her into the wheelchair. Her daughter had done well with this one. He was so charming and attentive, and it saddened Joyce when he’d told her on the ride home that he and Lauren were together for two years in college.

  She had known so little about her daughter’s life.

  “Thank you,” Joyce told Matthew as she eased out of the car and into the chair.

  “Come on in,” he said, wheeling Joyce through the front door of his spacious ranch home. “The nurse has already gotten your room set up for you.”

  Lauren had told her they’d hired a nurse. They were going all out to make her life comfortable . . . before she died. Truthfully, Joyce didn’t think that would be long. She felt weaker by the day, and the bouts of blurry vision and extreme exhaustion were becoming a regular occurrence.

  “Is there anything I can get you?” Lauren asked once they were inside.

  “No, I’m fine.” Their relationship was so strained that for once, it made Joyce sad. What had she done to her baby girl to create this distance?

  Lauren busied herself, no doubt trying to ease the uncomfortable tension that hung in the air.

  “What’s this?” Joyce asked when she noticed a bag of pictures on the dining room table. She wheeled over and placed the bag in her lap.

  “Nothing,” Lauren said, racing over to pull them out of Joyce’s grasp.

  “No, I want to see them,” Joyce replied, tightening her grip around the bag.

  Lauren stepped back, defeated. “Aunt Velma gave me those to make copies.”

  Joyce pulled out several of the pictures. A smile crossed her face at the baby pics of Lauren and Julian. She stopped when she got to a tattered black-and-white photo of Lauren.

  “Oh, I remember this picture.” Joyce pulled it out. “I had just bought you this lavender ruffled dress. I had a grown-up version of it. And we wore it Easter Sunday when you were five years old. Only you wanted to wear yours every Sunday thereafter.”

  Joyce laughed at the memory, even though she expected a bad one to overtake it. When it didn’t come, Joyce managed a smile. Maybe, just maybe, her last days could be filled with nothing but the happy memories.

  She dreamed of Vernon last night. Only in this dream, she wasn’t sick. They were happy. Her whole family had gathered for Thanksgiving.

  Vernon and Joyce were old. They were sitting on the porch, holding hands as children played in the front yard. Then Julian and his wife appeared. Behind them were Lauren and Matthew. They were all together.

  That dream was what Joyce wished her reality could’ve been. But just like there was no happy beginning, there would be no happy ending.

  She opened her eyes when she felt the wetness on her face. “What are you doing?” she asked as Lauren ran a towel over her forehead.

  “You’re sweating really bad.”

  Her voice felt weak and she coughed. Lauren helped her mother into a sitting position.

  “Here, sit up, so you can take your medicine.”

  She poured two pills into Joyce’s hand and handed her a glass of water. Joyce eased the pills into her mouth, then took a sip of water to wash them down. She didn’t bother asking what they were for.

  “Thanks,” she said, handing her back the glass.

  “Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?” Lauren asked.

  Tears sprouted into Joyce’s eyes as she stared at her beautiful child. She took her daughter’s hand. “Lauren, I know that I haven’t been the best mother. But I can’t leave here without you knowing . . .” She looked down, finding herself on the brink of a huge chasm. She’d never uttered these words before. “. . . without you knowing how sorry I am.”

  Lauren looked like those were the last words she ever expected to hear.

  “Mama, don’t worry about any of that. The sickness has you talking delirious.”

  “I’m not delirious. I’m dying.” She clutched Lauren’s wrist, wanting her to know this was for real. “Your father came to me in a dream. He begged me to forgive you. And he wants you to forgive him, too.”

  “Forgive him for what?” Lauren said, uncomfortable.

  “For putting you in the position that he did. For being the catalyst that destroyed our relationship.” Joyce didn’t know why, but a part of her wanted Lauren to say their relationship was not destroyed. “I’m so sorry, honey. I love you with all of my heart. I don’t know what day will be my last, but I don’t want to leave without you knowing that. And well, I need you to forgive me, too. I don’t want to die with us like this.”

  Lauren was not as moved as she’d hoped. “Mama, stop saying that. I forgive you and you’re going to get better.” Joyce didn’t know whether she meant that or if she was just saying it because she thought Joyce needed to hear it. Either way, those words warmed her heart.

  “Thank you for letting me spend my final days here and not in that god-awful place,” Joyce said. No sense in arguing about whether death was imminent, because they both knew that it was.

  “You’re going to be fine.” Finally, what Joyce had said was sinking in, and Lauren looked grateful. “I know we’re not really praying people, but maybe we should try,” Lauren said.

  “Maybe that’s what’s been wrong,” Joyce mumbled, feeling a pang of sadness that she had let women drive her not only out of church, but out of her relationship with God. “But I’m no longer delusional and I believe my time is up. And honestly, I’m ready. I’m tired and I’m ready.” She tightened her grip on her daughter. “The only thing I want is to see you marry that man because he’s a good one.”<
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  “You’ll see us,” Lauren assured her. “You’ll be around next year.”

  Joyce tsked. “I might not be here next week.” A wild notion came to her, but before she could stop herself, she said, “I know this is a lot, but can you move the wedding up? I want to be there to watch you get married. I’ve missed so much of your life.”

  Lauren frowned. Joyce knew the request caught her off guard.

  “Move it up? I don’t know if that’s something we can do.” Lauren’s eyes shifted downward. “Honestly, I don’t know if there’s even going to be a wedding.”

  Joyce patted her hand. She didn’t know why she expected her to do something so drastic. Joyce needed to just be happy Lauren wanted to look after her. It was selfish to make that request when her daughter had so much on her plate. “I understand.”

  Suddenly, she felt drained by the conversation. She had never felt so weak. But she had to ask how Lauren was. She hadn’t talked to her about the lawsuit, but Joyce could tell that it was weighing heavily on Lauren.

  “How are you doing, you know, with everything that’s going on?” Joyce asked.

  She shrugged. “I’m making it. Matthew is really upset.”

  “He’s a good guy. He’ll come around.”

  “I hope so.”

  This was one of the first conversations Joyce had had regarding her daughter’s personal life in a long time, and that both saddened Joyce and made her happy.

  “I’m going to sleep now, okay?” Joyce said, worn out.

  A look flashed on Lauren’s face, like she thought if Joyce closed her eyes, she wouldn’t wake up.

  “I’m fine. I won’t die in my sleep,” Joyce said, her voice low. She said a quick prayer that her words would be true.

  Her fiancé had lost his mind. Apparently Matthew had overheard Lauren’s mother’s request to move the date up. And without consulting with her, he’d gone in when Joyce awakened from her nap and told her that they would indeed move the wedding up.