Ex-Terminator Life After Marriage

by Suzetta Perkins

  “Good for you,” the women shouted.

  And then there was this handsome man sitting in front of her named Marvin who had come to join their group. Rachel wasn’t sure what the look on his face meant, but she wasn’t going to be sidetracked by a friendly smile, a seductive wink or even a well-maintained body. She wasn’t going to put up with any more crap from any man. Sylvia’s voice brought her out of her daze.

  “It’s time to take a break. Let’s close the Files for a moment. We’ve got a long way before they will be completely clean. This is a start. Now let’s eat up. I’ve got plenty in the kitchen.”

  “I’m starved,” Claudette said, “and I need a cigarette.”

  “Me, too,” Ashley chimed in, “but I can do without the smokes.”

  “I know something smells good,” Mona said.

  “You ready to eat, Rachel?” Sylvia asked. “It might be a little messy, but I’ve got ribs.”

  Rachel shook her head no. She closed her eyes for a second. When she looked up, Marvin was standing in front of her offering his hand.

  “I think if you eat a little something, you might feel better,” came his baritone voice.

  Rachel’s hand shook like a palm tree in a hurricane as she tried to take his outstretched one. She wiped her eyes with the back of her other hand and said, “Okay.”

  EX-cuses don’t count

  “Girl, these ribs are kicking,” Claudette said, swinging a braid out of her face to keep it out of the sauce.

  “She didn’t cook them.” Mona groaned. “The least you could have done was asked me to cater this event for you, Sylvia.”

  “Girl, eat your food,” Sylvia said, licking the barbecue from her fingers. “You know I don’t spend much time in the kitchen.”

  “Well, it tastes wonderful, Sylvia,” Marvin said. “My compliments to the chef, whoever it may happen to be.”

  The ladies giggled.

  “You have to admit, Marvin,” Mona interjected, “this ain’t nothing like Mona’s Cuisine. I’ve catered how many functions for your company?”

  “Hmmm, five maybe six…”

  “Too many to count. But this will do.”

  “That’s not nice, Mona,” Claudette cut in between spoonfuls of baked beans.

  “Ahh, Sylvia knows I’m messing with her. If I didn’t enjoy cooking myself, I’d probably be eating out, too.”

  “Are you all right, Rachel?” Sylvia asked.

  Rachel sat on the bar stool listening to the others’ antics. She seemed withdrawn, but managed to put a weak smile on her face.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. I have a slight headache, but I’ll eat something in a minute.”

  “So Ashley, how long have you been an Ex?” Mona inquired.

  Ashley looked at Mona thoughtfully, then put the meatless bone on her plate. “It was final two weeks ago.”

  “Oh,” Mona said. “Still fresh.”

  “Yes, the look of those eyes of his that wanted to kill when the judge awarded me the house and half of everything we owned is still fresh in my mind.”

  “I’m sorry,” Mona said. “Didn’t mean to open up fresh wounds.”

  Ashley got up from her chair and left the room in a hurry, with Sylvia close on her heels.

  “There you go, meddling again,” Claudette said.

  “How was I supposed to know that she had just left the divorce court?” Mona replied.

  Claudette waved a hand at her in disapproval.

  Marvin got up from his seat and walked over to the pan of ribs. There was something about Rachel that tugged at his heartstrings. She seemed so fragile, yet feisty—easy to break but tough enough to fight back. He thought she was courageous to get up before the group and share her story with them. It took a lot of guts to reach way down in your soul.

  “Would you like me to get you some ribs?” he asked her. “They’re pretty good.”

  Rachel placed her hand on Marvin’s arm. “No, not at the moment,” she replied. Then, as if realizing for the first time that her hand was resting on Marvin’s arm, she jerked away, but not before Marvin felt the flutter in his stomach.

  “Now, that’s a fine brother, Claudette,” Mona whispered.

  “So why aren’t you with him?” Claudette shot back.

  “He’s not my type. I like those dark, baldheaded brothers with a little more thickness to them.”

  “You’re a trip, Mona. If he asked to jump your bones right now, you’d be waiting on him to get his clothes off.”

  “Looks like he’s got his eye on Ms. Rachel. She wouldn’t know what to do with a good man if he fell into her lap.”

  “Well, right now,” Claudette said, “a man is the furthest thing from her mind. And I don’t blame her with all the heartache she’s been through.”

  “Yeah, I admit it was tough listening to her story. Makes you wonder what goes on in a woman’s head when they see a guy like Reuben and ‘playa’ is written all over his face.”

  “What’s done is done,” Claudette said. “Right now, I’m going to have a second helping of ribs.”

  “Eat up,” Mona said. “Our new divorcee is returning, probably ready to spill her Ex-Files. I like thatEx- Files.”

  “Ten more minutes before we head back into the meeting room to finish up,” Sylvia said as she and Ashley returned to the their seats. “Four more files to open.”

  Marvin sneaked a glance at Rachel, but she refused to look in his direction. He picked up his plate and tossed the remains of his meal in the trash. He moved toward the door of the kitchen, then doubled back and stood before Rachel. She had a smile on her face as she slowly looked up into his, and it warmed him from the inside out.

  “What is it, Marvin?” Rachel asked, her hand to the side of her face.

  “I really think you should eat something. It might do your headache some good.”

  “That session wore me out, and I could stand to forgo a meal or two.”

  Marvin looked at her petite frame and thought she could pass for a fashion model. She was a breath of fresh air.

  “No excuses. In fact, you could stand to put on a pound or two.”

  Rachel gasped and held her stomach to keep from laughing. “Marvin, you are funny. You really are funny.”

  “Why don’t I get you a small plate—just eat a little something. See, you haven’t heard my story yet. I’ve got some crazy stuff in my files, too.”

  Rachel grinned. She liked this guy. “Would you mind getting me a Coke, too?”

  Ashley Jordan-Lewis

  Ashley closed her eyes and exhaled. She opened them and looked at the group waiting for her to empty her files. Ashley wasn’t sure that telling her business was what she really wanted to do, especially with this group of hungry piranhas sitting anxious for the kill. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected when Sylvia invited her to become a part of this group, but here she was in the wilderness—all alone, it seemed—and she had to make the best of it.

  “I truly loved William,” she began. “We met while we were students at Georgetown. I was running for student government president, and he was the only person that hung on to my every word. After that, I would see him every morning when I jogged along the Washington Mall.

  “I remember the first time he spoke to me. The cherry blossoms were in full bloom. My body was soaking wet after running for an hour, and William turned a corner and bumped into me.

  “‘Oops, I’m so sorry,’ he said, placing his hand on my arm to steady me.

  “‘I’m all right, but if I didn’t know better, I would have thought you staged that,’ I replied.

  “‘No, I would have done better than that to get your attention.’

  “I think you already had my attention.”

  “William’s raised eyebrows and quizzical eyes met my gaze. ‘I had your attention. Hmmmm.’ He wrinkled his nose and searched deep within for the moment I seemed to suggest.

  “I ran for student government president.’ I stopped to see if he was paying attenti
on. “My platform,” I began again, “concerned equal representation for all students regardless of their color, ethnicity, religion, or…”

  “Yeah, I remember you,” he said.

  “I remember hesitating and then asked him how he got into Georgetown. William’s eyes turned cold; the smile was completely gone from his face.

  “You mean like affirmative action?” he asked me.

  “Like affirmative action,” I replied.

  “So, you’re telling us,” Claudette cut in, bringing everyone back to the present, “that William is black?”

  “Yes, he is,” Ashley said without hesitation.

  Quick glances went around the room; Marvin stared straight ahead.

  Ashley continued, “I remember the day vividly. My thought at the time was what do I really know about affirmative action.”

  A loud grunt came from someone in the group.

  Ashley swallowed hard and was silent longer than she had planned. She was up in front of the group now and might as well purge the demons that stalked her inner sanctum day and night.

  “I had a mind to let this tall, dark, and handsome man continue on his way”—another grunt from the group—“but my intuitive nature pushed me where I wasn’t prepared to go. I asked William again if he was the result of affirmative action.”

  “Somebody’s about to get slapped down,” Claudette muttered.

  Ashley pretended she didn’t hear her. “William did not move. I was sure he was breathing, but those eyes of his pierced my soul as if I had detonated the atomic bomb. He looked at me hard when he replied.

  “He said, ‘My name is William James Lewis. I have two hardworking parents who are educators, three sisters who are educators and a brother who’s a captain in the U.S. Air Force. I graduated undergrad at Howard University, in the top ten of my class with a 3.99 GPA, and you dare ask me if I was the product of affirmative action?’ He kicked at a rock nearby. Then he asked,‘Why is it that if your skin is brown, black or tan people always wonder how you made it into college? I made it on my own merit, damn it. Not every black face is poor. Not every black person needs a handout. Not every black face needs financial aid, but thank God it’s there for those who need it. Give me a break.’

  “William was so mad that tears began to well up in his eyes. Not knowing what else to do, I reached out and hugged him…I kissed him. And to my amazement, William kissed me back. We were happily married for fourteen years, and two weeks ago it was all over—no salvaging, no pleading, and no good-byes. Finished.”

  Ashley bowed her head and twitched her mouth. She looked out at the ladies and Marvin, this somewhat unfriendly group. She was the only white face in a group of black ones. So what? The same kinds of things that happened to white women happened to black women. This group sitting in front of her was just mad because she was married to the finest black man on the planet—well, they didn’t know that yet, but she couldn’t be held accountable because she and William fell in love with each other, and yeah…he was black.

  Ashley sighed. “When I caught William with another white woman, he had the nerve to say it was affirmative action.”

  “Serves you right,” Claudette said.

  “Serves me right? It’s okay for him to cheat on me?”

  “I’ll say it again: serves you right,” Claudette said. “There ain’t enough black men to go around as it is for all the single black sisters out there.”

  Sylvia jumped up from her seat and stood between Ashley and Claudette.

  “That’s enough, Claudette. We have to respect one another. Everyone in here is a victim. We share a common denominator. We are all Exes and we’re tired of the self-serving, ain’t-going-nowhere pity parties that makes us eat a two-pound bag of Oreos and a half-pint of Ben and Jerry’s Chunky Monkey just at the thought of our broken lives. We are all hurting and looking for a way to get past the hurt and the pain, and that’s universal and extends to no one race. Let’s let Ashley tell her story without further interruption, please.”

  “Maybe this is not a good time,” Ashley said, looking at Sylvia but not at Claudette. “This was a bad idea.”

  “Yeah, it was a bad idea.”

  “Enough, let Ashley get on with it,” Mona said in a high-pitched voice, shoving her hand in the air.

  Claudette rolled her eyes at Mona.

  Ashley stood still for more than a minute. She squeezed her eyes shut, then exhaled.

  “I was angry when I caught him…them in bed together. But all I could do was just stand there because I was in such a state of shock I couldn’t even scream. They looked at me likeI was a stranger in my own bedroom and had walked into the wrong house.

  “I asked William how he could do this to me, but all he could do was stare at me, wide-eyed. And the little bitch was so scared, she cowered underneath my husband to shield herself from what she believed was coming next.

  “I didn’t even have the energy to fight. I was pathetic. I walked out of the room and my husband didn’t even beg me to stay or say that he was sorry. I could hear them whispering, planning what they were going to do next. I walked out and went to my parents’ house.

  “I loved that man—a part of me always will. There were many days and nights of pleading and begging for him to end the affair. Yes, I went back home, but it only made the pain greater since he ignored me. When I could no longer take the mental abuse, I told him I was going to file for divorce. I thought this strategy would wake him up and he would realize that he’d be losing a good woman. No such luck. He looked at me and said, ‘Fine. I’ll move out tomorrow’—no good-byes or apologies.

  “He would slip back home, wanting to have sex with me because he knew it was good, and he knew I would let him. Even a couple of months before the divorce was final he showed up at the door—must have had a fight with the new girlfriend—and I let him in.

  “Sitting in the courthouse listening to the judge talk about our lives, our assets, why we no longer could be husband and wife, chilled me to the bone. I looked at William with that smug look on his face—I’m sure he was thinking freedom at last. But when the judge announced my settlement and then proclaimed that our marriage was dissolved, a smile formed on my face. I said to myself, it isn’t over yet. You see, Mr. William James Lewis, I’m carrying your baby—the one thing you always wanted…a baby.”

  “Ooooohs” and “ahhhhhs” came from the group.

  “Ohhhhhhhh my God, Ashley,” Sylvia said. “Why didn’t you tell anyone? The court would’ve figured the baby into your divorce settlement.”

  “No need. When I get up enough nerve to tell William, he’s going to wonder what it will take to win me back.”

  “You go, girl!” Mona exclaimed. “You are one tough sister. Had me fooled.”

  “May I have a drink?” Ashley asked. “I’ve got nothing else to share. And I’d like a group hug, too.”

  Everyone laughed and huddled around Ashley. Claudette even rubbed Ashley’s nonexistent stomach.

  “Make him beg,” Claudette said. “Make him beg.”

  “Who said I was going to take him back? I never said I wanted him back; I said, he’ll wonder what it will take to win me back. There will be no going back. No, no, no, no, no. When I was begging and pleading, he turned a deaf ear. When I bared my soul, he looked at me in disgust. Now I’ve got something he really wants, but I’ll have the power to deny him. He’ll have visitation rights and child support to pay. Oh yeah, I still love that man, but me and my little one, hmph, we have other plans and they don’t include the baby’s daddy. Now, may I have a drink?”

  “No!” everyone shouted. “You’re going to have a baby!”

  Claudette Beasley

  “Whew,” Claudette said. “Everyone’s files are so tedious, but mine…they aren’t full at all.

  “I met Tyrone about sixteen years ago at the NCO Club at Fort Stewart, Georgia. My girls and me loved to go to Fort Stewart and check them fine servicemen out. There ain’t nothing like a brother in a
uniform.

  “I was shaking my groove thang for real when Mr. Tyrone C. Beasley walked over to me and said, Lawd have mercy.I was still switching my tail—I was a size ten back then—and ooohhh my, those brown eyes could melt a sister down. He asked if I wanted to dance, and I told him I was already dancing, couldn’t he see. Yeah, I had a smart mouth back then, too. He looked at me and said what the hell. Next thing I knew, we had the floor to ourselves because that brother was getting downnnnnnnnn.”

  Claudette’s arm went up in the air and around…then down to the floor. The group giggled as she demonstrated her point.

  “Me and T, as I called him, dated awhile, and after a couple years we decided to make it legal. We were doing everything else anyway. The paper just made us respectable. We got married in a little church just outside of Atlanta. Had ten bridesmaids and ten groomsmen in that church—most of them were family.

  “As stories go, the familiar gets old after awhile. We tried to keep it fresh, but we fell into that real marriage thing—work on the job, work at home, eat, sleep and maybe time to hang out with your boys or your girls. And it didn’t help when I decided to go to beauty school on top of my part-time job. See, I had plans for my future.

  “I forgot to tell you that two months before we got married, me and Tyrone found out we were pregnant with Reebe. To make matters worse, Tyrone got rifted from the military—surplus. That didn’t do well for his ego. I think it hardened him and he never forgave the Army for treating him the way they did, especially after he put his life on the line for them during Desert Storm. He was a communications man, and he was still able to get a respectable job working with the phone company laying wires.

  “After we got married, we began to argue a lot. We argued about what time breakfast and dinner would be ready. We argued about how much it cost for Pampers and baby formula. We argued about my weight since I seemed to be gaining ten pounds every year. We argued about the unwholesome shows he said I watched on television. We argued about how much water to put in the sink when I washed dishes like I’d never washed a damn dish a day in my life. We argued about washing the floor with a mop or getting down on all fours and hitting it like my grandmammy did back when she was washing the massa’s kitchen floors. Yes, and there were days when I cried out and sang that old Negro spiritual, ‘My Lord Done Delivered Daniel.’