A half-hour later, Ashley emerged from behind the double doors.
“Claudette, I’m going to have a baby.”
“No kidding. And what did the doctor say?”
“He told me I was in my first trimester. He told me to take my vitamins and iron and continue my exercise regime, and I should be fine. It was simple…it was like going for your yearly checkup.”
“What else did you think was going to happen?”
“I don’t know, but I’m going to have a b-a-b-y. Lunch is on me. Let’s celebrate.”
“Sounds good to me. I’m hungry and I need a cigarette.”
Ashley stood by as Claudette gathered her belongings, then moved toward the hallway on their way out of the clinic. Before they had gone two feet, Ashley stopped abruptly, Claudette stepping on her heels.
“What are you doing here, William?” Ashley asked. She grabbed her stomach.
“What?” Claudette asked.
“I’m not talking to you, Claudette. The gentleman standing in front of me is William, my ex-husband.”
“Ohhhhhh,” Claudette said out loud.God, he’s fine, she thought.
Ashley’s eyes were fixed on William and the honey-blonde woman with him. Her roots were showing; Claudette should give her her number, Ashley thought.
“Why are you and that—woman—here?” Ashley asked again.
“What areyou doing here?” William countered.
“I asked first.”
“I asked second.”
Ashley headed for the door. William was right behind her with Claudette taking up the rear.
“Come back here, William,” the girlfriend called.
Ignoring his girlfriend, William grabbed Ashley’s arm and swung her around to face him. There was hatred in Ashley’s eyes. Claudette stayed back a couple of feet ready to come to her friend’s defense.
“Why are you here, William?” Ashley demanded.
William sighed. He grabbed both of Ashley’s arms and looked straight into her eyes. “I hate to tell you this way, Ashley, but I’m having a baby.”
“Make that two, you son-of-a-bitch.”
“Yeah, make that two!” Claudette repeated loudly after giving William another once-over.
Ashley snatched her arm away and rushed out the door.
“You’re having our baby?” William seemed dazed for a moment. Then he suddenly gave chase to his ex-wife.
Startled mothers-to-be covered their stomachs to protect their precious cargo as he passed by, Claudette hot on his heels. They didn’t have far to go. Ashley sat slumped over on a bench just outside the clinic, holding her face as she sobbed. When she felt William’s hands on her shoulders, she shrugged him off and jumped up from her seat.
“Go back to your pregnant girlfriend,” Ashley shouted and pointed.
“Leave Ashley alone,” Claudette added. “You didn’t want her before. She doesn’t need you now. She’ll do fine without you.”
“Claudette—,” Ashley began.
“Oh, just let me have him, Ashley. He’ll wish he’d never seen the day he cheated on you. I’m going to call the girls because we need to have an Ex-family meeting.”
William stared at Claudette and spit on the ground. He turned to Ashley. “Our baby, Ashley.”
“No.My baby.”
William twisted his mouth and shook his head, giving Claudette the evil eye before softening his expression to look back at Ashley. Air escaped from Ashley’s mouth as she gazed from William to Claudette. She turned to William one more time and said, “My baby, and don’t you forget it.” She turned and walked away.
Disbelief was written on William’s face.
“It’s her baby,” Claudette repeated, waving her finger in William’s face. She half-skipped to catch up with Ashley.
“That’s what you think,” William said to no one in particular.
EX-treme Makeover
Sylvia followed the attendant through a labyrinth of halls before finally entering her treatment room. She placed her jacket on a coat rack in a far corner and forced a lid on her nerves as she examined her surroundings. The sound of soft music met her ears, causing her insides to tingle.
The room was serene and dimly lit by mod lamps that adorned the walls. Palm trees and exotic plants were strategically placed throughout giving the room the feel of a tropical island. The mood was enhanced by the sound of the small fountain tucked amidst the foliage. Cotton robes hung outside a marble shower that was separated from the main room by a bamboo divider. A black leather table with steel legs stood alone in the middle of the room—the table where her naked body would lie while experienced hands manipulated her muscles into obedience.
The door opened, and a male dressed in a loose-fitting white cotton jacket and gray slacks entered the room. A girlish smile crossed Sylvia’s face in anticipation of what lay ahead. The masseur draped a clean sheet over the table, instructing her to take off her clothes, lay facedown on the table and cover her body with another sheet she was given. For the first time, Sylvia was able to see the masseur’s face. He was of Spanish descent, but more than that, he was the handsomest man Sylvia had ever seen. She blushed as the masseur turned to leave the room so she could get undressed.
“He’s going to get a big tip if he knows how to work it,” Sylvia said to herself.
“First time?” he asked, startling Sylvia as he turned to face her, catching the glow on her face.
Sylvia thought she was going to melt. His voice was deep and romantic. This was not the time to get cold feet. What if his voice hypnotized her and she fell into his clutches, where he would do what he liked to her body at will? She shuddered and drew the sheet close to her body, although she still had on all of her clothes.
“Uuhm, yes,” Sylvia said, a little embarrassed.
“I’ll be gentle. You have nothing to worry about. My name is Andreas.” And he walked out the door.
Sylvia looked around the room afraid to speak. She squeezed the sheet tight, then released it. This was the kind of moment when she needed to consult her girls. She wondered how Rachel and Mona were doing with their facials.
“Okay, Sylvia,” she said out loud to no one. “Let’s do this. You were the one who wanted to play in the mud, wanted to feel a man’s touch, wanted her body rubbed, wanted to moan and groan while every muscle in her body was kneaded and twisted. Oh yes, I’m going to do this. My name is Andreas,” she mimicked the masseur, shaking her head as she did so.
Sylvia eased out of her clothes and placed them neatly on a chair nearby. She crossed the room and stood at the foot of the table, inspecting it for who knows what. Then that crazy smiled skipped across her face again, and she crawled onto the sheet-covered table, placing the other sheet over her body.
“Rachel Washington?”
“Yes, that’s me.”
“Follow me, please. My name is Anika, and I’ll be giving you your facial today.”
“Sounds great.”
“Your skin looks beautiful. It appears that you’re doing all the right things to keep your skin looking healthy.”
“I do try to eat right. It’s the men in my life that cause my body stress. That’s why my girlfriends and I are here today—makeovers to revitalize our bodies so that we’ll be fresh when we meet our new somebody.”
Rachel and Anika laughed.
“I think it’s a great idea that you and your girlfriends came together to support one another,” Anika commented as she ushered Rachel into her treatment room.
“Truth is, my girlfriend, Sylvia, brought a few of us divorced women together, and we now have what you call a support group. Sylvia calls it the Ex-Files. Our ultimate goal is to move forward in our new life as an Ex and help each other overcome emotional suicide after a bad divorce. And when we have made it, we will have cleaned out our Ex-Files.”
“Hmmm, that sounds wonderful.” There was a long pause. “Look,” Anika continued, her voice now a soft whisper, “do you have room for one more person?
”
Rachel jerked her head so that she could see Anika’s face.
“Sure. I’ll talk with Sylvia. She’s getting a full-body massage right now, but I’ll see her when we all come together for lunch. I’ve been going on and on and had no idea…”
“It’s okay. Today is my lucky day, I guess. Sometimes, it’s all about timing. Now sit in this chair so I can do your facial. I don’t want to cheat you on what you’re supposed to have since I have another client in thirty minutes.”
“I’m not going to let you cheat me,” Rachel assured her. “How long…how long has it been since you were divorced?”
“A month. He said he really wasn’t ready to be tied down. If only I had known that before my parents spent ten grand on the wedding of my dreams two years ago, I would be a much happier person today.” Anika began examining Rachel’s face, but that didn’t stop the other woman from replying.
“Shut your mouth. I ought to be givingyou a facial and a massage. You’ve been through a lot. Girl, I’ve been down the aisle three times and divorced just as many, so I’m kind of numb when it comes to divorce court. Our group was the one thing I needed to make me look at life differently, though. We’ve only had two meetings, but I feel rejuvenated already, and if there should be a number four in my life, oh well, I’ll just have to wait and see. It’s not because I need a man, mind you. I like having a special someone to go out to dinner or a play with every now and then. Bottom line is I’m feeling good about myself again—confident.”
“Well, my new friend Rachel, I’m your first stop today at the station called confidence. And if you don’t mind, I’m going to ride with you.”
“Well, come aboard, Anika. There’s an empty seat with your name on it.”
Sleep was an easy option as Sylvia lay facedown on the table, waiting for Andreas to return. The steady trickle of water and the soothing music relaxed her so much that she forgot where she was. Then she heard the door open, gently, then close but without the sound of footsteps. Then he spoke—his voice so soft and sensual that it paralyzed Sylvia from the head down.
“Are you comfortable?” Andreas asked.
Was she comfortable? She was darn near scared out of her wits.
“Yes,” came her feeble reply.
“All right, we’ll get started. I need you to place your arms by your sides and relax.”
How am I going to relax,Sylvia thought to herself,with his handsome body swooning over me and whispering sweet nothings in my ear . She placed her arms at her sides obediently. “I’m ready.”
“First, I’ll start with our Signature Mud Massage. It will be a little cool to the touch, but when I’m finished you will feel renewed.”
Sylvia felt a slight chill as the sheet was lifted from her left hip and leg. Strong, sinewy hands glided over her buttock in a circular motion, massaging a light mud mask deep into the muscle. Then Andreas’ hands moved down her leg, applying more mud over her calf down to the ankle.
“Ahhhhh,” Sylvia sighed.
After Andreas finished the one side, he repeated his performance on the other. Then he drew the sheet down to work on Sylvia’s back, finishing at the nape of her neck. Sylvia was so relaxed she couldn’t move. There had to be healing in those hands.
Andreas let Sylvia lie a few minutes on her stomach.
“It’s time to turn over,” Andreas said softly not wanting to threaten the mood.
Sylvia wasn’t sure how she was going to accomplish this without exposing her goodies, but Andreas left the room as if reading her mind while she exchanged one side of her body for the other. Andreas returned on cue and worked on her legs and her arms.
Sylvia felt rejuvenated. She closed her eyes, casting her inhibitions to the sky. The feel of Andreas’ hands was much too much for her, but she was anticipating the moment when he would touch her breasts, which were past due for an examination by a handsome gentleman. She was ready and waiting.
Then Andreas said, “Relax for ten minutes, then take a shower. Everything you need is behind the partition. When you’re finished, lie back on the table for a final rubdown. I’ll be back in fifteen minutes.”
Sylvia’s eyes popped open and stared at the ceiling. She moved the sheet from her breasts and stared. He hadn’t touched them—no mud, no hands, no sensation. She had been robbed of the one thing she had really wanted after succumbing to this handsome man. She’d been cheated, cheated, cheated!
Sylvia swung her legs over the table and slipped off, holding the sheet tight around her body. As the music continued to soothe her, she loosened the sheet and let it slide from her bosom, draping it loosely around her hips. She waltzed to the music as graceful as a swan, performing several pirouettes before gliding toward the bamboo room divider. And for her last act, she dropped the sheet and shook her groove thing while extending her arms to the sky. She smiled seductively, then disappeared behind the divider and into the shower.
EX-foliate
Sylvia, Rachel and Mona were assembled in a medium-size room that held a table, a refrigerator, a TV and built-in shelves full of spa literature. Large palms sat among African artifacts—masks, statues, ceremonial robes—from the Ashanti tribe. The room was painted a dark salmon color, adding to the mystique. The same lamps that Sylvia saw in the room where she received her massage hung on the wall here as well.
Lunch was served on salmon-colored mats. Sliced turkey sat between a sliced croissant. A bag of chips and a glass of raspberry tea completed lunch. The television was on, the volume turned low.
“How was your massage, Sylvia?” Rachel began, anxious to get the details.
“It was divine—better than sex.”
“At $300 a pop,” Mona chimed in, “it better be.”
“Details, details,” Rachel pushed.
“A man with wonderful hands just gave me the most wonderful massage I’ve ever had. He massaged every muscle on my body.”
“Mmm-mmm,” Rachel said. “Sylvia looks pretty satisfied. Don’t you think, Mona?”
“Yeah, there is something different about her. I want to know if it was so good that it made you want to do things you couldn’t tell your mama about.”
Sylvia smiled. “Eat your lunch. In fact, I think we should be talking about how Ms. Rachel is going to feel after her date tonight.”
“Date? With whom?” Mona asked. She threw her hands up in disbelief.
“The one and only Marvin Thomas—your Mr. CEO,” Sylvia offered.
“Oh really? And just what did you have to do to get his attention? Bend over backward or feign a headache so he would come running?” Mona said nastily.
“Mona, you sound as if you want Marvin for yourself,” Rachel retorted. “I don’t owe you an explanation for anything. Just know this my friend, me and the CEO are having dinner tonight.”
“Umph, you’ll mess that up, too.”
“Okay, ladies,” Sylvia cut in. “We’re here on a healing journey.”
“Speaking of healing, Rachel, did Sylvia tell you that she’s hanging out with Kenny again?”
“Kenny? Kenny who?” Rachel asked.
“Kenny Richmond,” Mona replied. “Our girl took him to the Gordons’ fund-raiser. Can you believe that?”
“Oh,” was all Rachel could say as she looked at Sylvia with disappointment in her eyes.
“Thanks, Mona,” Sylvia said with disgust. “This trying to get on with our lives is difficult with the two of you. I’m going to get my facial.”
“Speaking of facials,” Rachel began, “I was telling the young lady who does the facials why we came to the spa, and she asked if she could join our group. Poor thing was only married two years, and she’s so young.”
“Sounds like a shoo-in to me,” Mona said. “This place gives great manicures and pedicures.” She stuck out her hands to show off her nails. “But right now I’m hungry and if you don’t mind, I’d rather eat than talk.”
They laughed and then there was quiet.
“We may fuss an
d get on each other’s nerves,” Sylvia said, “but I’m glad we’re here together. It helps the pain.”
“Same here,” Rachel said.
Mona picked up the remote and began surfing through the channels. “Look at that,” Mona exclaimed, pointing toward the TV.
“What is it?” Rachel asked. “You’re messing with my peace and tranquility.”
“You weren’t studying peace and tranquility a minute ago. Yak, yak, yak,” Mona said.
“What is it?” Sylvia asked.
“Now that Tiger is cute.” Mona grinned. “I like that red polo on my man. This must be a recap of what happened this past Sunday.”
“I’m not talking about Tiger,” Sylvia said, her voice raised. “My God, Adonis is in the stands with that prehistoric hoochie.”
“Where?” Rachel snapped, eyes glued to the TV. “I think you’re imagining things.”
“That is Adonis.” Mona pointed. “Sylvia, your man is sitting in the stands at the U.S. Open with another woman.”
“I can’t believe the camera keeps panning his unfaithful face. Look at them, sitting up there like they’re the king and queen of Pinehurst, Pinewood, Pinecrest…whatever it’s called,” Sylvia stuttered.
“Don’t hate,” Mona said. “Anybody that would dig up the past like yesterday’s trash…”
“He never took me to a golf tournament.”
“Because you never wanted to go, Sylvia,” Rachel pointed out.
“They’ve just panned past himagain . I’m going to call the TV station…”
“And tell them what, you crazy girl?” Rachel asked.
“That they have violated FCC regulations. Showing those two ugly faces on national TV is worse than Janet Jackson showing her breast.”
Ex-Terminator Life After Marriage Page 10