Ex-Terminator Life After Marriage

by Suzetta Perkins

  “Claudette is on her way home.”

  “Your hands are soft,” he murmured.

  “Why me, Mr. Broussard?”

  “Why not you, Mona?”

  “There were so many good-looking women at that party.”

  “Need I remind you, most of them came with a date.”

  “Everyone except us.” They laughed.

  “You intrigue me, Mona Baptiste.”

  “You have a faint accent—islander?”

  “West Indies.”

  Mona sat back and her mind roamed to the day she met Timothy in college. It was the accent that caused her to take another look at the dark-skinned guy whose pearl-white teeth glistened like a lighthouse on a foggy day. She shook the memory from her mind.

  “You all right?”

  “Yeah. I was thinking of home. Haven’t been there in awhile.”

  “Maybe you should go for a visit. It might do you some good.”

  “I will eventually.” There was a short pause. “Make a left, then a right. Claudette lives four houses from the corner. I hope I find the right words to say.”

  “Just be her friend. And think about getting an airline ticket home.”

  Mona looked at Michael Broussard. He was a lucky find. Her Ex-Files had been emptied long ago. She had plenty of empty space to accommodate someone in her heart. And she was ready.

  Darkness fell as Mona and Michael waited for Claudette to arrive home. The night was silent, save for the hissing sound of the tires of the few automobiles that passed through the rain-soaked street. Another set of headlights beamed in their direction but slowed as it approached the house. Mona didn’t recognize the car that turned into the driveway but she did recognize the driver as he got out of the car. Claudette herself exited on the passenger’s side.

  “Hmmph, Claudette’s ex,” Mona said. “I wonder what happened to Claudette’s car.”

  “He must have come to Claudette’s aid when he got the news.”

  “Maybe.”

  Mona and Michael exited the car when another set of headlights stopped right in front of them.

  “Marvin and Rachel? I can’t believe they made up so fast. Just a few hours ago, Rachel was sulking,” Mona said in surprise.

  “These your friends?” Michael asked.

  “They are part of our support group for ex-wives, even though I’m not sure why I joined. I’ve been an ex for awhile, and I’ve gone on with my life.”

  “Hmmm,” Michael said, perplexed. “So, your life is fulfilled and happy.”

  “Well, yes, but there’s always room for new adventure.”

  “I see. You are a very complicated woman, Mona Baptiste, but don’t worry, I love puzzles.”

  Mona looked at Michael and smiled.I am verycomplicated, Dr. Michael Broussard, and it won’t be that easy to navigate my waters , she thought.

  As everyone gathered in Claudette’s driveway and gave her hugs, another set of headlights approached. Out hopped Sylvia and Ashley, outdone by the welcome party who beat them there.

  “Let’s go into the house, everybody,” Claudette said, throwing the butt of her cigarette down on the carport floor and smashing it for good measure.

  The group followed and sat on the sparse furniture without taking off coats or wraps. Claudette stood next to Tyrone; his arm was wrapped around her shoulders.

  “I love you all,” Claudette began. “It’s late and most of you have to get up tomorrow and go to work, but you cared enough to see about a friend.” A tear welled up in her eye. “Standing next to me is Tyrone, my ex-husband.” Claudette looked at T and dropped her head.

  “Hello, everyone,” Tyrone began.

  “My…my…my shop is gone,” Claudette interrupted. Tyrone squeezed her tight. “I drove by there after I left Rachel’s, and there’s nothing left. Kwame is in the juvenile detention center because the police found him outside. My baby is in jail and will have to stay there until we can make bail—fifteen-thousand dollars. Can you believe that?”

  The group stood up to offer their support. Claudette let the tears roll. There was no more shame.

  “Sit down, Claudette,” Tyrone prompted and led her to a chair.

  “Did Kwame set the shop on fire?” Mona asked.

  “Not on purpose. He was at the shop with his sister, for what reason I don’t know. He picked up a pack of my cigarettes and lit one. Reebe shouted at him and he threw it in the trash can, and it caught on fire. Accident. He didn’t mean to do it. I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

  “You can use your house as a shop,” Rachel put in.

  “Yeah, that’s a great idea,” Mona chimed in. “Go back to the roots. You know that’s how we did it before these fancy, schmancy salons came along.”

  “I agree,” Sylvia said. “It’s an excellent idea. We’ll help you notify your customers.”

  “I’m so grateful to you all,” Claudette said. “I don’t know what I’d do without the Ex-Files.” She laughed for the first time.

  Marvin moved toward Claudette. “I’ll donate the money for Kwame’s bail and help you get whatever you need to get your shop set up.”

  Everyone stared in awe at the gorgeous and gracious gentleman who had withdrawn from the group only hours earlier.

  “Oh, oh, I…I can’t, Marvin. That is so generous, but I can’t take anything from you.”

  “Please, accept my offer. If we hurry, we can bring Kwame home tonight.”

  “And I’ll purchase the hair supplies you need,” Ashley put her two cents in. “You were right there for me, Claudette, when I needed a friend.”

  Rachel could not stop staring at Marvin. She went to him and kissed his lips. Marvin searched her eyes, which were full of tears, and he kissed her back passionately in front of a room full of friends.

  Sylvia turned away unable to keep the tears from streaming down her face. She had not seen such a beautiful display of affection in a long time. It was obvious that Rachel and Marvin were soul mates, and Sylvia knew she could mark the day as a pivotal one in Rachel’s life—her resurrection day.

  “Thank you, Ashley,” Claudette said, giving her a hug. “I appreciate it, girl. Whenever you need a babysitter, Auntie Claudette will be here for you.”

  “Thanks, man,” Tyrone said, shaking Marvin’s hand. “I appreciate what you’re doing for Claudette—for us. Kwame’s my son, too. I’ll hit you back, man. I’m going to do all I can to help my family.”

  Claudette glanced at Tyrone. She had gotten used to being by herself—gotten used to her independence. This was not the time for Tyrone to try and waltz back into her life. Maybe God was trying to tell her something. She would not dwell on Tyrone at this moment; she wanted to bring her baby home, and she had to find the other one. Reebe was in trouble.

  “Before we go,” Marvin began, “another thought came to mind. We should have a fund-raiser this Saturday to help Claudette.”

  “You have to plan for that, baby,” Rachel insisted.

  “Not if we do it right. We’ll have a barbecue. I’ll get the meat and ladies, you can make the dishes that go with it. Everybody is tasked with calling their friends and co-workers. I don’t care who they are as long as they buy a plate. It’s for a worthy cause, and I expect everyone to work. We can have it in the parking lot of the beauty shop—I’ll check to make sure we can have it there.”

  “Take charge, baby. Take charge!” Rachel shouted.

  “What happened between three o’clock and now?” Sylvia asked Rachel with a nudge to her rib cage. “You were singing a different story earlier.”

  “Break up to make up. It’s a beautiful thing. Don’t hate, my sister.”

  “I don’t, Rachel. I’m happy if things are working out for you and Marvin. Give that ex-wife, Denise, a run for her money.”

  Rachel threw Sylvia a sly glance. “I’m not worried about Ms. Denise. I’ve got something for her if she thinks she’s gonna try and reclaim my man. Plus I’ve got backup. We really are a team.”

/>   “Don’t expect me to fight like a street hood,” Sylvia shot back.

  “If I’m in trouble, you better come running.”

  “I’m happy for you, Rachel. I really am, sis.”

  “Thanks, Sylvia. That means a lot.”

  Sylvia longed for Kenny, but she knew he could not be a fix every time she felt she was in trouble. No one would ever say she was a junkie, but she wanted him. She needed him like a crack addict needed his rock. Kenny had become her rock. Yes, she had become very dependent on him because he offered shelter from the rain, his words soothed when she sought calm and he had become the man she had looked for to complement her life. Sylvia walked to her car and waited for Ashley.

  The Prodigal EX

  Sylvia drove in silence as she sped toward Ashley’s house. Ashley must have sensed Sylvia’s need to recede into herself because she interrupted the silence only to tell Sylvia that she was about to pass the turn onto her street.

  There was a chill in the night as the light from the moon cast a sinister glow on the wet, black asphalt. When they were about to pull up to the two-story, three-car garage brick house, Ashley drew back in her seat, paralyzed. It was then that Sylvia noticed the black BMW sitting triumphantly out front.

  Nervousness was written all over Ashley’s face. She did not move for several minutes. A car door opened, and a tall man stood beside the BMW. Sylvia could not make out his features in the dead of night, but she could tell that he was dark and possibly bald.

  Ashley sighed.

  “You all right, Ash? Is that your ex-husband?”

  “Yes, it’s William. I’ll be okay.”

  “Sweetie, you can come home with me, if you like. I’m not liking the vibes you are sending me.”

  “Nothing to worry about, Sylvia. It’s…it’s just that I thought I wanted my husband back, but since seeing him at that clinic with that pregnant woman, I feel differently. And what kind of man leaves the woman he ran off with because she lost his baby to turn around and be with the one he said good-bye to in a court of law because he found out she’s having his baby? I don’t understand William’s psychotic reasoning at all. If my heart was bulletproof, then it would be one thing, but this man poked holes in my soul and now his all-of-a-sudden repentant heart wants to undo the wrong. I’m going to clean out my Ex-Files and label it ‘case closed.’”

  “I wish it were that easy, Ashley. Now you have a tie that binds the two of you together, forever—the child growing in your womb.”

  “Some miracle.”

  They watched as William advanced toward Sylvia’s car.

  “Call me if you need me,” Sylvia said before Ashley got out of the car. Sylvia sat and watched as Ashley walked toward her ex. The fear in Ashley’s eyes did not escape Sylvia, and for the first time, she was afraid for Ashley.

  Sylvia began to back out, then turned and noticed that Ashley and William were still standing in the driveway. Ashley’s hands became animated as she tossed them in the air to demonstrate her point. William was up in Ashley’s face, territorial in his stance with no thought of backing down. Sylvia thought she saw Ashley slap her hand toward her, telling her to go. Sylvia was afraid and decided to sit in the driveway until she was sure Ashley would be all right. She circled around a couple of times to be sure.

  Claudette, Tyrone, Rachel and Marvin headed for the juvenile detention center in hopes of being able to bring Kwame home. No one said much of anything. Claudette took brief glances at Tyrone, and Tyrone squeezed Claudette’s hand every thirty seconds. Rachel and Marvin sat in the backseat huddled together as if their lives depended on it, smiling at each other like lovebirds.

  “I want to thank you again, Marvin,” Claudette began. “First for being a true friend and for doing the unimaginable. If I can pay you back, I will. I thank you from the bottom of my heart.”

  “We thank you,” Tyrone said.

  “You are more than welcome. It’s not a loan; I want to do this. But I would like to ask something of you, Claudette.”

  Claudette finished dabbing at her eyes. “What is it, Marvin?”

  “You said that Kwame picked up your cigarettes and lit one.”

  Claudette felt her stomach tightening. Only Tyrone had admonished her about her smoking, and she ignored him. Now the man with the generous gift was going to give her an ultimatum. She was sure of it. But there would be no words to dismiss him because he was going to rescue her baby from the pit of hell.

  “Yes.”

  “Do you think Kwame was trying to get attention?”

  “I don’t think so,” Claudette said calmly. “I know I work hard, but I’m there for my son. I help him with his homework and take him to his sport activities…”

  “And he’s learning bad habits,” Tyrone interjected.

  “T, Marvin was asking the question. If Kwame had a father around, maybe you’d be in a position to say something.”

  “Just remember, Claudette, it was you who left me and took our kids away from their father.”

  Tyrone rocked his neck back and forth to ease the tightness, and he sealed his lips.

  “Look, guys, this is not the time to get upset,” Marvin offered. “You’ve got to get it together for Kwame. I’m sorry that I said anything.”

  “Marvin, I know where you’re coming from,” Claudette countered. “I want to quit smoking…God knows I do. And I will…if you will help me.”

  “We’re there for you,” Rachel finally said. “All for one. We’re going to see you through this ordeal and any other ordeal you might have.”

  “That’s so sweet of you, Rachel. I know you didn’t like me very much when we first met, but I must say God knew what he was doing when he had Sylvia to organize the Ex-Files.”

  “Ex-Files? What’s that?” Tyrone inquired.

  Everyone laughed.

  “We’re all exes, man,” Marvin piped in.

  “I’m an ex,” Tyrone said.

  “Yeah, but I was trying to find a way to move on without my ex,” Claudette said.

  Everyone laughed again.

  “This isn’t funny,” Tyrone admonished.

  “Lighten up, man,” Marvin said, still laughing. “You want to join our group?”

  Claudette’s bunched-up face met Marvin’s. She was a funny sight. Rachel began to laugh and so did Marvin.

  “What’s going on?” Tyrone asked.

  “Drive the car,” Claudette said through clenched teeth.

  “Man, our next meeting of the Ex-Files will be at my house…I’ll have to get back to you on the date. It is going to feel good with another man in the group.”

  They all broke out in laughter. Tyrone joined them since it was the only logical thing to do.

  Anything for my Man

  Mona peeped out of the window for the third time in ten minutes, hoping to see Michael drive up. The candles were lit, and the dining room table set for two. Sparkles bounced off the crystal in the chandelier that hung above the dining room table as the light from the candles gleamed on their teardrops.

  China plates with stainless steel covers sat at either end of the table. Under the covers were plates of veal tenderloin that sat in a river of brown gravy dotted with scallions. Steamed asparagus draped with hollandaise sauce and rice pilaf completed the meal. A vintage red wine sat chilled in a bucket ready to be poured at the right moment.

  Mona jumped at the sound of the telephone ringing. She grabbed her throat, hoping the voice at the other end would not disappoint her or make her regret all the time and effort she had gone through to make this evening perfect. She grabbed the phone on the third ring and sighed when she heard Sylvia’s voice.

  “Ohh, don’t scare me like that.”

  “What are you talking about, Mona?”

  “Girl, I thought you were Michael calling to say you couldn’t make it. I’ve prepared this scrumptious meal for him…and I’m so nervous.”

  “Girl, please. Not Mona the man-handler.”

  “It’s not fun
ny, Sylvia. I…I think I’m falling in love with this man.”

  “What? Not you.”

  “You don’t think I’m capable of love?”

  “I know you can throw a mean meal, and if Mr. Broussard doesn’t show up I will.”

  “He’ll show up. Got my stomach all in knots. No man has ever done that to me before.”

  “No man?”

  “Well, maybe my ex-husband did, once.” For the second time in two days, a vision of Timothy tried to penetrate her thoughts. “Guess what?”

  “Tell me so that you can put me out of my misery.”

  “Michael and I are going to New Orleans.”

  “What?”

  “Sylvia, you know I haven’t been home in…”

  “A long time, my dear. You’re overdue. But why go with Michael?”

  “He has family there. If things aren’t well with my family, I’ll just stay with Michael’s family.”

  “Wow. How long have you known him? Two weeks, a month?”

  “Poor, poor Sylvia. Can’t stand to see anybody happy. I heard what you said to Rachel tonight. If Kenny was half…”

  “Now hold on a moment—”

  “Hold on, Sylvia. I think I hear a car.”

  Mona rushed the two feet to the window and pulled back the drapes. Wishful thinking. “It wasn’t him.”

  “You are sprung.”

  “Like I said, Sylvia, I’m falling in love with this man. We’re going to purchase our tickets to New Orleans tonight.”

  “Whatever you do, you best be at the barbecue fund-raiser on Saturday for Claudette. We should let you cook the side dishes since it’s what you do.”

  “You heard Marvin. Everyone must participate.”

  “We will. Hold on, it’s Ashley. I’ll put us on three-way. William was waiting for her outside the house when I drove her home last night.”