Forever An Ex

by Victoria Christopher Murray

  Just as I thought, she was there, standing in front of the fireplace and looking down at a photo she held.

  She didn’t even bother to look up when she said, “This is one of my favorite pictures of me, Bobby, and Angel.”

  I flexed my fingers. “Where’s Angel?”

  She said nothing as she returned the photo to the mantel, then slowly, deliberately, lined the frame up with the others. Finally, she turned to me. “She’s not here.”

  “Don’t play games with me, Caroline.”

  Her left eyebrow arched. “Games? I’m not the one . . . playing games,” she said. “I wasn’t the one . . . playing games on that big-screen television last night.”

  Well, I understood what this was about. Caroline was hurt, finally realizing that she’d lost Bobby to me. But I wasn’t going to go back and forth with her over that. Not right now. “If you don’t want to tell me where Angel is, I’ll sit right here”—I plopped onto the sofa—“and wait. She has to come back soon.” I glanced at my watch. “What time does her party start?”

  Caroline shook her head. “There isn’t going to be a party.”

  I jumped up. “What do you mean?”

  “Angel’s party has been canceled.”

  “What?” Was Caroline really going to take this out on Angel like that? “You’re nothing but a vindictive little—” Before I could go straight reality-show ratchet on her, she held up her hand.

  “Oh, this wasn’t my fault,” Caroline said. “If you want to call anyone a vindictive little . . . what were you going to call me?” She paused. “Angel canceled her party. She was humiliated last night in front of her friends and she doesn’t want to face anyone right now.” She shook her head as if she couldn’t believe it. “So, it is you who caused Angel’s pain, not I.”

  Caroline’s words played over a couple of times in my head before I whispered, “Angel canceled her party?”

  Caroline looked straight at me when she said, “I guess it’s difficult for a child to feel like celebrating after finding out that her mother and her father are nothing more than . . .” She held her forefinger up and moved it in a circular motion. “What’s the word I’m looking for . . . tramps, or whores, maybe.”

  I wanted to rip this lady apart, but before I could go in on her, I had to find out about Angel. “Whatever happened with me and Bobby we’ll have to handle later. Right now my only concern is Angel.”

  “Oh, so now you’re concerned about her?”

  “Where is she?”

  “She’s with a friend. She didn’t want to stay here.”

  “Then you should’ve called me. I would’ve come and taken her home.”

  “She’s not trying to get away from me,” Caroline said as if that fact were obvious. “She wanted to leave because of you; she knew you’d be back and I think her exact words were ‘I never want to see my mother again.’ ”

  My eyes became thin like slits. My daughter was twelve, and yes, she was prone to being a bit melodramatic, but this? “I’m going to ask you one more time . . . where’s my daughter?”

  “You know the interesting thing about young girls,” Caroline began.

  I frowned. I didn’t know where this chick was heading, but I was going to give her ten seconds before I was all up on her.

  She kept on: “Young girls are so impressionable.” She kinda chuckled. “For example, take our lovely Angel. A couple of years ago, I convinced her to watch an old TV show. And while we were watching Fame, I made a few observations about how she was much better than any of those kids . . . and then all of sudden Angel wanted to go to school in New York.”

  My frown deepened.

  Caroline said, “And then Angel and I took that wonderful trip to Paris . . . that just happened to pop up on my schedule.”

  I crossed my arms and tried to steady my breathing.

  “Amid all of that shopping and sightseeing and girl talk, she’s telling me that she loves me as much as she loves her own mother.” Caroline held her hand to her chest like she was touched, and at that moment I knew she was touched all right. She was touched in the head. She was, like, crazy.

  “And then we had that wonderful slumber party last night to set off this birthday weekend.” She paused. “Did you know last night was my idea? I wanted Angel here with her friends.”

  A chill rushed through me.

  “And since they were all here, I thought they should have fun exploring the house. So, I sent her and her little friends on an adventure to the other wing. The wing that has always been off-limits to her, but last night it wasn’t.”

  I had to take in a mouthful of air. My daughter had been set up by this witch.

  “You knew?” I whispered.

  “Knew what, Chiquita?” She said, “Are you asking me if I knew that you were screwing my husband?” She chuckled again. “Come on. I never ask a question unless I already know the answer. I knew you were having . . .” She paused. “What is that called? Video sex?” She shuddered. “Well, anyway, I knew you were doing that TV stuff, and I knew you were once again spreading your legs for Bobby Johnson. I knew it all, and only came to your place to give you a friendly warning. But you were too dumb to accept my advice.”

  “So . . . what’s this? You’re mad about me and Bobby and so you hurt my daughter?”

  “I didn’t do that; you did. She’s mad at you, not me.”

  “You really think you can turn my daughter against me?” I laughed, though I didn’t feel as confident as I sounded.

  “I already have,” she said. She spoke with such calm, such coolness, and such certainty that all I could do was believe her.

  That was when my heart started pounding, but I wasn’t about to let Caroline see me weak. “So, what’s your plan?” I asked, pretending to be as cool as she was. “You think you can keep her away from me? Bobby would never let you do that.”

  She waved her hand as if Bobby didn’t matter. “He’s not going to have much of a choice in this. Angel doesn’t want to have anything to do with him either.”

  Did Caroline really think this was going to work? As if once I saw Angel, I wouldn’t be able to talk to her, explain to her, get her to understand. “Look, I’m not going through this with you anymore. Just tell me, where’s Angel?”

  She hesitated as if she was considering my words. Then, “You want your daughter?” Another pause. “Give me back my husband.”

  I opened my eyes so wide, my vision would never be the same. “Are you freakin’ kidding me?”

  “Do I look like I’m freakin’ kidding?”

  “You’re bargaining with my daughter? Holding her for ransom?”

  Caroline squished her nose as if she smelled something nasty. “Ransom is such a dirty word.”

  I moved toward her. “You know, you’re nothing but a low-down, dirty—”

  Before I could say every curse word I’d ever heard, she said, “Uh . . . before you call me out of my name, what would you call a woman who goes around sleeping with other women’s husbands?”

  “I don’t do that,” I said. Then, with a smirk, I added, “I’ve only had yours.”

  Her face and body stiffened and I felt like I’d scored a point, except I was still losing in this game.

  “You need to know, Chiquita,” Caroline said with her voice so tight her lips hardly moved, “that I’m way more than these clothes and my money. Because clearly, you’ve been fooled by my class. But let me tell you something.” Now she was the one who closed the gap between us. She came so close that I thought she was about to try to jump bad with me. Oh, I wanted her to do it. I wanted her to take one swing so that I could release all of my rage on her.

  We were inches apart when she said, “You and I are so much alike. Haven’t you noticed?”

  I didn’t say a word.

  She continued, “We may have grow
n up differently, and I may have money and class while you have”—she paused as if she had to think about it—“nothing,” she said, like she’d found the perfect word. “But I am just like you because I am still a black woman. And a black woman—with money or without money—doesn’t play.”

  “So you’re going to use my daughter?”

  She answered with a shrug.

  I asked, “Why do you want to be with Bobby if he doesn’t want to be with you?”

  She frowned and shook her head a little like she was confused. “What are you talking about? Bobby wants to be with me . . . we’ve been together all these years. And so why should I give up on my marriage? Being Mrs. Bobby Johnson gives me a certain, shall we say, cachet. And, there are major benefits for him having married a Fitzgerald. He doesn’t want to give that up. Bobby may have made a lot of money in his career, but it’s nothing compared to my daddy. My family’s fortune will always keep that wedding ring on Bobby’s finger.”

  There was a part of me that believed her, but then the other part remembered how Bobby and I were together. He really loved me; he told me and he showed me. He had enough money; he didn’t need hers.

  Caroline kept talking. “Bobby just gets a little off track sometimes and I have to remind him.” She sighed like the task made her weary. “But I’ve done it so many times since we’ve been married, it’s just something that I have to do.”

  So many times? I frowned. “What?” The word escaped from me before I could stop myself.

  She stared at me for a moment, then laughter was in her eyes when she said, “Wait, you don’t think you’re the only ho, do you?”

  I pressed my lips together and now she laughed out loud.

  And laughed. And laughed.

  And all I could do was stand there until she finished.

  “Oh, Chiquita, you do amuse me.” She paused to let a few more chuckles escape through her lips. “Bobby has had so many hos over the years it’s not even funny. But you thought”—she started to laugh again—“. . . you thought you were the only one.” More laughter. “Right now he’s probably with three or four . . . not counting you.”

  I wanted to punch her in her face. Just knock her out so that she would stop lying.

  She continued, “Just last week I caught him in that room doing whatever he does with some ho”—she paused and looked me up and down—“much younger than you. But he was in his room and they were doing all kinds of nasty things on that TV.”

  I was crying inside, but I wasn’t going to let one tear seep out of me. Not one.

  It wasn’t enough for her to stab me, she had to twist the knife, too. “That’s why Bobby got that TV, that’s why he has that room, that’s why I knew what was going on last night, and since it was after midnight, I knew he’d be with you because you’re his late-night ho. The one he goes to when he’s just about asleep.”

  I was dying, dying, dying.

  Caroline kept on: “So, what were we talking about before you came in here demanding to see your daughter?”

  I said nothing.

  She laughed. “That’s what I thought.” Then her face got straight serious. “So, here’s what you do. You tell Bobby that you won’t be seeing him anymore, ever.” She looked at me as if I was standing naked right at that moment. “And then I’ll work it out with Angel. Unless, of course, a man you’ll never be able to trust, a man who will never commit to you, is more important to you than your own daughter.”

  Then, before I could say anything, before I could scratch her eyes out, before I could make her die, she shouted, “Belinda,” and the woman who’d opened the door appeared. “Can you show Ms. Ingrum to the front door?” Caroline glided out of the living room without giving me another glance.

  I stood there, not knowing what to do. I couldn’t leave, could I?

  “Miss Ingrum?”

  I turned my head. “You can follow me.”

  All I did was nod and work hard to hold back my emotions. And, I was strong. I made it to the car.

  Now, in the last few weeks, I’d been emotional. But nothing compared to what I did when I slid inside my car and closed the door. You couldn’t quite call it crying. I was filled with too many emotions to cry. Instead, I howled, like I was howling at the moon.

  Chapter

  Sixteen

  It was hard to see, hard to focus. Not because I was crying; I’d finally stopped. Now I could hardly move because I was in shock.

  But finally, I had enough in me to swerve around the circular driveway and then drive down the long road that led to the street. Once outside the gates, I pulled over to the curb.

  I squeezed the steering wheel and I lowered my head so that I could rest; I was so exhausted. And I had to find a way to stop all of this trembling. I trembled with fright, with anger, with hurt. And then there was all of that stuff going on in my head . . . thoughts that were jumbled together—where was my daughter, and how could Bobby Johnson cheat on me?

  One side of my heart was so crushed by that, but I had no time to mourn the loss of that relationship. Everything in me had to be about Angel.

  I grabbed my cell phone, and just before I tapped the emergency icon, I stopped myself. What would I say to the police? That my daughter was in the custody of her dad and her stepmother on the weekend that she was supposed to be there? Where was the crime in that?

  And really, the only peace I had was that Angel was fine. That was the one thing I knew for sure. Caroline would make certain of that.

  But while my daughter was fine physically, how was she really?

  “Oh, my God,” I whispered. What was I supposed to do now? That video played in my head again . . . of Angel, and her friends, walking into Bobby’s office, seeing me, seeing Bobby.

  And I couldn’t get to Angel to explain it. I couldn’t get to her to hold her and make her hurt go away.

  I reached for my cell phone again, and made the call that was becoming all too familiar. But this time all I had to say was, “Sheridan,” and that was it.

  “Where are you, Asia!”

  I sobbed.

  “Are you home?”

  “No.”

  “Can you drive?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Can you get to the church?”

  “Yes.”

  “Go there now. Kendall and I will meet you. Do you need me to stay on the phone with you?”

  I sniffed back my tears. “No, I’ll be okay. I’m about twenty minutes away.”

  “I’ll be waiting for you.”

  When I hung up, I cried some more, but for the first time it was because I felt at least a little bit of relief. With Sheridan, with Kendall, and with prayer, maybe I’d be able to put just a little bit of my life back together.

  Chapter

  Seventeen

  Kendall stomped back and forth in front of me. “Okay, come again.” She paused and cocked her ear as if she needed to do that to hear me better. “Did you just say that that heffa won’t tell you where your daughter is?”

  Sheridan said, “Uh, Kendall, I don’t think you should use that word while we’re here in the church.” She knelt in front of me and squeezed my hand.

  “Whatever!” Kendall said, still going off. “God might even be calling Caroline that right now.”

  I could almost feel the steam coming out of Kendall. She was much angrier than I was. I wasn’t angry anymore, I was just scared.

  Kendall’s rant continued. “I think it’s time for us to go over there and pay this . . .” For a moment she stopped moving and stood right in front of us, then she said, “. . . this heffa a visit.”

  “Kendall! You’re not helping!” Sheridan snapped.

  Kendall shook her head, took a deep breath, then she knelt in front of me. She held my hand as she said, “You know Angel’s all right. One thing you know is that he
ffa will take care of her.”

  If I wasn’t so sad, I would’ve laughed. But all I could do was nod and sniff. I felt so drained, but thank God for Sheridan and Kendall. With them here now, all I had to do was keep breathing. They’d figure the rest out for me.

  Sheridan added, “And Bobby, too. He’ll take care of her. He always has.”

  “In my heart, I know Angel’s okay . . . at least, physically. But mentally . . .” My eyes shut and that video played in my head again. “I still can’t believe that she walked in on us like that.”

  Kendall moved from kneeling in front of me to sitting next to me on the front pew. “Girl, I always knew you were a freak . . .”

  And there wasn’t a thing that I could say because I’d told my girls everything. When I first barged into the church, I’d run right into Sheridan’s arms, since she was standing by the door waiting for me. Kendall was there, too, waiting for her turn, and after a couple of seconds, I fell into her embrace.

  They went back and forth, taking turns holding me, saying nothing, until I was drained of all of my emotions. Then, when Sheridan pulled me down onto the front pew and asked, “What happened?” the story poured out of me. I started with how I’d thought Bobby wanted me, when he really didn’t, and then I explained how Bobby and I eventually got back together. And the grand finale: I told them how I’d put on a porn show on a sixty-inch monitor for Bobby, Angel, and her friends.

  I didn’t think there could possibly be anything that I could do to shock Sheridan and Kendall. Through the years they’d seen the best, but definitely the worst of me.

  But this story right here had Sheridan and Kendall sitting with their mouths open in matching wide Os. It was a major achievement—I’d made Kendall speechless.

  Until I told them how I’d gone to Caroline’s looking for Angel. That was when Kendall’s rant began. And as she paced and roared about what she wanted to do to Caroline, I was so grateful. Kendall was saying all that I wanted to say, but didn’t have the energy to do right then.

  “A freak,” I said, finally responding to Kendall. “If that’s what you’re calling me, what’re Angel and her friends saying?”