Ex-Terminator Life After Marriage

by Suzetta Perkins

  Rachel and Mona giggled.

  “You are too funny, Sylvia,” Rachel said.

  “I think Adonis looks tired,” Mona quipped. Rachel covered her mouth to keep from laughing out loud.

  “Can you believe Adonis has the nerve to showboat that piece of trash out in public? That man has no shame.” No one responded and Sylvia fingered her sandwich, pouting as she did so.

  Mona and Rachel stared at Sylvia.

  “Don’t act like you don’t understand my pain,” Sylvia said, refusing to let go.

  Mona cleared her throat. “You have Kenny,” she whispered.

  Rachel coughed and cleared her throat. She pursed her lips to keep from laughing. “I don’t believe it,” Rachel said at last. “Kenny the asshole Richmond.”

  “Forget you wenches. I’m through trying to explain to you two fools what it’s like to be with the same man for twenty years and all of a sudden he experiences the male change of life while you’re having your own private summer and neither of you can put two and two together. Then he decides one day that he’s going to venture out because he doesn’t know what in the hell he wants, like he’s been walking in this great big circle, and ends up in the arms of this ancient nightmare.”

  “You are so dramatic, Sylvia,” Rachel said, still holding in a day’s worth of laughs.

  “‘Dramatic,’ am I? Nooooooo, you don’t understand because you’ve never had a man”—snap snap went Sylvia’s fingers—“this long.”

  “That was a low blow, Sylvia,” Rachel said. “This isn’t about me or Mona. You didn’t have to go there.”

  “Yeah. It was your man on national TV,” Mona quipped.

  Sylvia could feel the tears well up, and the last thing she wanted to do was cry in front of Rachel and Mona.

  “I’ve had enough. I’m going to get my facial, and I’m outta here.”

  “You can’t leave without me,” Rachel said calmly. “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

  “I’m sorry, too,” Sylvia said.

  “Enough of this apologizing. Let’s finish up,” Mona said. “I’ve got a date with my twins’ daddy.”

  Sylvia and Rachel looked at her. “Those twins aren’t real, Mona,” Sylvia said.

  “You need to exfoliate Adonis out of your brain, Sylvia, and leave me alone. Leave that man with his ancient ho and live your life.”

  Sylvia was silent. Thoughts of Kenny bounced around in her brain. She needed a fix, but wasn’t that why she was at the spa?

  Mirrors don’t lie, Rachel thought, as she tossed her bangs about her forehead, batted her eyes and swiped her fingers through her hair like she was a contestant forAmerica’s Next Top Model . In fact, she thought she was much better-looking than any of those girls, and though she was petite, she could work a runway from Milan to Tokyo. And her body felt wonderful after the massage she had today.

  Tonight had very little to do with how well she walked a runway or posed for a camera. It had everything to do with capturing a man’s heart—yes, a man’s heart, although less than two weeks ago she’d vowed to herself that men would be banned from her life. Rachel hadn’t counted on Marvin Thomas making a liar out of her.

  Although Rachel experienced disappointments in life, mostly self-inflicted, she was proud of what she had been able to accomplish. She was a senior account executive at IBM which enabled her to afford the beautiful house she now owned in the suburbs.

  A smile crossed her face as she looked at her surroundings. Warm colors adorned the walls throughout Rachel’s house. After throwing Reuben out, Rachel wanted something more tranquil, something more inviting to her soul. The strength of the colors warmed her, cuddled her, made her feel safe—the one thing Reuben or the other exes could never do. Marvin was somehow different, but tonight was all about fun, fine wine and dining. Discovery would be later. But that was Rachel’s problem. She never took the time to discover if she had picked a weed or a strong, thick vine.

  Rachel looked at the clock, dabbed a little more lipstick on her lips and sprayed herself with perfume. She hoped Marvin would like her green-and-white polka-dot, Italian cotton summer dress with a green patent-leather belt running around her waist. She bought it especially for their first date. She also picked up a pair of strappy green stilettos as well. He would be hypnotized by her beauty and style. And she would have Marvin right where she wanted him.

  Nerves replaced self-confidence as Rachel paced from room to room. She looked at her watch. Marvin was fifteen minutes late. All those good feelings were starting to fade when the doorbell rang.

  She ran to the door on jet fuel and jerked it open before the doorbell could ring a second time. Rachel could not contain the smile that was upside down only moments earlier.

  “Hel-lo, Mr. Thomas,” she said.

  “Marvin is fine.” He smiled.

  “Hello, Marvin.”

  “Aren’t you beautiful.” Marvin was unable to take his eyes away from Rachel. “Wow, you are absolutely gorgeous. That dress looks stunning on you.”

  “Well, thank you.” Rachel blushed. “Do come in.”

  “Ummm, nice home. Warm, inviting. I like it.”

  “I’m glad you approve.”

  “Oh, I do. I don’t understand why the others—the guys in your Ex-Files—didn’t get it.”

  Rachel blushed again, although it did conjure up bad memories. “I say it’s their loss.”

  “Certainly is,” Marvin agreed. “Certainly is.”

  “Would you like something to drink before we go to dinner?”

  “Yes, I would.”

  Rachel went to the wet bar and brought back two glasses of Chardonnay.

  “So tell me about your wife.”

  Marvin took a sip of his drink. “What do you want to know?” Marvin said, somewhat dejected.

  “I know it’s a hard subject to talk about, but I’m curious to know why the woman in your Ex-Files was crazy enough to forfeit the best.”

  Rachel sat down and motioned for Marvin to join her on the couch. She was sorry, almost as soon as the first word left her mouth, that she had steered the conversation in this direction. She felt terrible.

  Marvin sat next to Rachel, arms folded across his chest. His voice was soft as he spoke.

  “You remind me of Denise.”

  Rachel shrank back, not sure what to think.

  “I mean…you’re both petite and beautiful. She was the woman of my dreams, and I had big plans for our future.”

  Rachel realized that she had made a second mistake in the ten minutes since Marvin had entered her house. It was obvious that Marvin still loved his wife—rather, his ex-wife. Rachel had turned the windup toy on, and now she couldn’t get him to stop. She tuned out his soliloquy—his sad, tale of an unfaithful wife—one second into his story.

  Marvin was very handsome. Rachel digitized him into her memory one pixel at a time. She didn’t realize he had stopped talking until he touched her arm.

  “Are you okay, Rachel?”

  She jumped. “Me? Yeah, I’m fine. I must have been daydreaming. Sorry.”

  “No need to be sorry. I’m sure I bored you talking about Denise. It was so devastating, Rachel. But why talk about Denise when the most beautiful woman I’ve seen in a long time is sitting on the couch next to me?”

  Rachel’s cheeks ballooned.

  “You’re blushing,” Marvin said. “And what pretty dimples.”

  “Why do you still wear your wedding ring?” she blurted.

  Marvin sighed. “Sometimes it’s hard to let go. You try to hang on as long as you can until one day you wake up and realize time has passed you by. And it cost a fortune.”

  Rachel laughed and Marvin joined her.

  “Why don’t we go to dinner?” he asked. “I’ve made reservations at a quaint little spot I hope you’ll like.”

  “Just so long as you’re by my side, it doesn’t even matter,” Rachel replied.

  Marvin looked at Rachel thoughtfully. Rachel
smiled one great big smile.

  “I love green ones,” Marvin said at last.

  “What are you talking about?” Rachel asked.

  “M&M’s. You remind me of a bag of green M&M’s—my favorite.”

  “I’m not sure what I’m supposed to say or think, but I’ll assume it’s a compliment.”

  “You’re beautiful, and I love that dress. Let’s go eat.”

  “Okay.”

  Escargot

  The skyline was a canvas of orange, red and purple. Just behind the outline of a dogwood tree, the sun dipped on its descent beyond the horizon. Streetlamps illuminated the city, while men and women stepped into their favorite restaurants for a bite to eat.

  Light jazz rippled through the Cadillac Escalade as Marvin and Rachel zoomed into the heart of Atlanta. Marvin took occasional glances at Rachel, while also keeping his eye on the road. Marvin made a right turn onto a quiet street and found a place to park. A small French restaurant hugged the corner of the block.

  “Oui, oui, monsieur,” Rachel said, taking a stab at her French lessons of twenty years ago.

  “Oh, weparlez-vous Francais ,” Marvin responded.

  “I love the French language. It is so romantic.”

  Rachel and Marvin turned in each other’s direction and quickly turned away to disguise what their eyes were saying.

  “Rachel, sweetheart, stay put until I open your door.”

  “Merci, monsieur.”

  French music met their ears the moment Marvin opened the door to the restaurant. Rustic, medieval trophies hung from the rafters and room-size lampposts were placed throughout, giving the room a feel of sitting in a sidewalk café. Conversations were muted, with the restaurant’s guests lost in their own Parisian fantasy, sipping Merlot and tasting the delicate garlic-infused escargot.

  A dainty waitress met the couple and showed them to their table. They ordered a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon and sat a minute browsing through the menu.

  “This is so cozy,” Rachel said.

  Marvin eyed Rachel. “It certainly is.” He smiled.

  Rachel placed her hands atop of Marvin’s. “I didn’t take you for French food.”

  “Why, do I look like the country boy that I am?”

  Rachel smiled. “No…well, maybe a little. You are so full of surprises.”

  “I just know how to treat a woman. I grew up with a houseful of women—my mom and three sisters. My father was a hardworking black man who took his responsibility seriously. Oh sure, there were times when we had to go without, but we were a family, a wholesome family—something I hoped to have when I became a man and could afford to offer my wife the things she needed and wanted.”

  “Where have you been all of my life, Marvin? I prayed for a man like you, but I guess God doesn’t hear a sinner’s prayer.”

  “That’s not true. God hears everyone. You just didn’t give Him enough time to give you what you asked.”

  “Hmph, you’re probably right. And so wise. Let’s toast.”

  “To what?”

  “To us…the beginning of a new day in our lives, the beginning of friendship and possibly love, and the beginning of the music that’s playing throughout my body.”

  “You feel it, too?”

  “A little flute, a little bass…”

  “I feel a drum beating…ohhhhhhhh…it’s touching my soul.”

  “I’m serious, Marvin.”

  “So am I, Rachel. So am I.”

  The waitress returned with the wine. As she poured, Marvin lightly tapped the edge of the table. Rachel closed her eyes and lifted her head toward the ceiling. She thanked God for this moment—the beautiful music, the universal language she defined as love that danced all around her. She dropped her face and opened her eyes to meet Marvin’s warm hazel gaze.

  “I’m glad you like the place,” he said.

  “It’s heaven, and I hope the food is as good. We better look at our menus before the waitress comes back.”

  “I recommend—” Suddenly Marvin jerked his head to the right and back.

  “Are you all right?” Rachel asked. “Something wrong?”

  “No, no. I was about to say that the duck à l’orange is very tasty.”

  “Duck is pretty close to chicken. That’s what I’ll have.” Rachel thought this first date was headed in the right direction, even though he seemed a bit distracted.

  The waitress took their orders and Rachel poured herself another glass of Cabernet. She looked at Marvin, who had a puzzled expression on his face.

  “Are you sure nothing is wrong?”

  “I’m sure, Rachel.”

  “We were talking and having a good time.”

  “Yes, we were.”

  “Is there something you need to tell me?”

  “No.”

  “It’s going to take some time, Marvin. You’re a good man and you deserve better. Ex-Files brought us together, and it’s going to help us get through our situations.”

  “You’re right, Rachel.” Marvin picked up her hand and kissed her fingertips. “Did I tell you tonight that you’re beautiful?”

  “Welllllll, you did, but, I could stand to hear it again.”

  They laughed, then Rachel excused herself to the ladies’ room. “Don’t start dinner without me.”

  Marvin watched as Rachel walked the length of the room and disappeared. He picked up his glass of wine and held it tight. His nervous gaze wandered around the room, grateful for the salad the waitress placed on the table.

  “So, who is she?” the voice demanded as Marvin stabbed at his salad.

  “I thought I saw you. What are you doing in Atlanta, Denise?”

  “I’ve moved back. Tired of New York.”

  “Moved back? To Atlanta?”

  “Yes, to the A-T-L. Me and Danica, although Danica will be spending a lot of time with Harold.”

  Flashbacks of Denise and Harold put salt on an old wound. For an instant, Marvin wondered if Danica looked like Denise or Harold. Danica might even favor him since he and Harold were first cousins. Marvin shook the thoughts from his mind, hoping he could make Denise disappear for good.

  “So you’re already passing the baby off.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I do know that you probably would have been an unfit mother for our child, if we had had one. I am blessed not to have crossed that river.”

  “Don’t insult me, Marvin. It won’t change a thing.”

  “You’re right, so…”

  “Look, I actually came to Atlanta to talk to you.”

  “Don’t go there, Denise.”

  “Please. Let me finish before you pass judgment on me.”

  “All the pleas I made that fell on deaf ears—too late now.”

  “Because you’ve found someone else to carry your seed?”

  “You are so tacky, Denise.”

  “Well, that’s what you always wanted, wasn’t it, Marvin? A baby? A nice little family?”

  “I’m sorry that I didn’t recognize from the beginning that you were not my soul mate.”

  “You couldn’t resist me.”

  “I resist you now, and you better leave before Rachel comes back to the table.”

  “Rachel…is it? I wonder what Ms. Rachel would think of you if she knew that this wasour favorite restaurant? Didn’t have enough intelligence to find one of your own.”

  As Rachel approached the table, she watched as he spoke with a petite and beautiful woman who stood over him.

  “Is this your ghost, Marvin?” Rachel asked. “She looks nothing like me.”

  “You’re quite right,” Denise exclaimed. “Know this, Rachel, the ghost wants her husband back.”

  Rachel huffed and looked Denise dead in her eyes. “You won’t get him. Knowthat .”

  Denise stormed off with egg in her face. Marvin glanced at Rachel, whose music had faded. It was replaced with red-hot coals that exuded ninety-degree heat. They sat there an
d said nothing. Marvin twitched uncomfortably in his seat. The waitress brought their food.

  “I’m not hungry,” Rachel said.

  EX-cedrin Headache 101

  Sylvia pulled the covers over her head. Andreas was massaging the length of her body. Not a muscle in her body was left untouched. Sylvia lifted her arms to lasso his neck and bring him to her, but his image faded along with the good feeling that had overcome her.

  The room was pitch-black, just the way Sylvia liked it. Darkness was her security blanket against the evils of the world. She had learned to live alone but every now and then a small sound—the wind blowing through the trees, a squirrel scampering over the roof of the house—got her on edge, especially in the absence of any protector.

  The bedspread shifted left, then right before sliding to the floor.

  “No, don’t go, please don’t go,” Sylvia cried out. “What did you say, Adonis? I know I didn’t hear what I thought I heard.”

  “I want a divorce, Sylvia. I can’t say it any plainer than that.”

  “But why, Adonis? When did you decide this? I didn’t know that our marriage was in trouble.”

  “That’s the problem with you. You’re always too busy to notice what’s going on right under your nose. Too busy, too busy, too busy, too busy. Think you’re better than everybody else; and—if you remember before we got married—I told you I didn’t like fat women.”

  “I’ll get on the treadmill tomorrow, I promise, but can we talk about this…try to work it out? We have invested so much of our lives into this marriage. Our daughter, what is she going to think?”

  “Sylvia, I’m unhappy. I’ve been unhappy a long time, and now it’smytime. I’ve got to go.”

  “But…but…but what about me?”

  “What about you?”

  Sylvia sat up straight and wiped the sweat from her face, panting, trying to place the strange sound that had awakened her. “Damn, the phone. What time is it?”

  She reached for the phone and looked at the clock. It was eleven-thirty p.m.

  “Sylvia, I hope I didn’t disturb you,” Ashley said.

  “No,” Sylvia said as coherently as she could.