Ex-Terminator Life After Marriage

by Suzetta Perkins

  Ashley smiled and hung her head. “I thought sleeping with my ex would make me feel better about him leaving me in the first place. Somehow I thought it might hurt the mistress he left to come back home to me. But William has somehow changed. Maybe he had already changed and I had failed to notice. His behavior is erratic and unpredictable.”

  Marvin got up and moved close to Ashley, while the others sat on the edge of their seats. Marvin touched Ashley’s shoulder.

  “Has he hurt you, Ashley? I don’t mean to pry, but brother Tyrone and I noticed how nervous and jittery you were when you arrived earlier.”

  “He best not put his hand on her,” Claudette sounded out.

  Ashley didn’t reply. She blew air from her mouth and looked toward the ceiling, then back at the group.

  “Well?” Marvin pushed.

  “No, he hasn’t put his hands on me, if that’s what you mean. He’s become possessive and makes me feel trapped in my own home. William doesn’t…he doesn’t want me to be a part of this group. Threatened me if I went to the fund-raiser.”

  Sylvia stood with Claudette right behind her.

  “Ashley, why didn’t you call me or tell someone? We are here for you and care what happens to you.” Sylvia put her arms around Ashley, and Claudette rubbed her arm.

  “I don’t believe he is interested in me…just the baby.” Ashley paused and began to sob. “Frankly, I’m afraid of him. If he hadn’t gone to his sister’s birthday party in Charlotte, I would not have been here today. I’m sure he’s blowing up the phone, wanting to make sure I didn’t leave the house.”

  “What are you going to do, Ashley?” Sylvia asked.

  “I don’t have the faintest idea. And…the big and…William wants to get remarried. There is no way that I can remarry him.”

  A collective gasp came from the women.

  “Why did you sleep with him in the first place?” Mona finally spoke up. “Looks like you were asking for trouble.”

  “Come on, Mona,” Sylvia admonished. “Try putting yourself in Ashley’s shoes.”

  “Wouldn’t be there if I was in her shoes. I wouldn’t have opened my door.”

  “Easy for you to say,” Sylvia said. “This is about Ashley.”

  “It’s all right, Sylvia,” Ashley said. “I don’t pay Mona any mind.”

  Mona rolled her eyes while her head danced on her neck. “Mmmm-hmmmm.”

  Margo Myles stood up for the first time and went to Ashley and embraced her. Sylvia and Claudette moved back to their seats.

  “I know what it’s like to be in love with someone who breaks your heart. I was married for twenty-five years when I found out that my husband was having an affair with the married neighbor next door, who was my best friend, as well. On top of all that, he was deeply embroiled in a scheme to steal weapons from a military base and sell them to this rebel group in Honduras. He stole money from his clients and stole my heart from me. And, my husband was gunned down by someone in the organization he worked for while he was driving and nearly lost his life.

  “It’s not an easy thing to let go of someone you spent a lifetime and had four children with. I found myself fighting for what was rightfully mine. I didn’t care what people thought. Yes, I wanted to kill Jefferson for making me hurt the way I did, but there were so many good times I could not forget.

  “Whatever your relationship is with your ex, you have to assess what it is you really want. There must have been a good reason why you let him in the door. I’ve already heard some of your explanation, but the bottom line is you haven’t really gotten over him yet.”

  Ashley held Margo tight without uttering a word.

  “My husband is paying for his crime. He is spending the next twenty years of his life behind prison bars. I’m paying, too. Aside from all the humiliation that I suffered from the trial and all the news accounts that were in the paper and on TV constantly reminding me that the man I married and held in high esteem had wrecked our happy home, I’m alone without anyone to assuage my wound or my lonely heart. Yes, I could have divorced him. I certainly have more than enough grounds to do so, but I recognized that the man I loved was still beneath all the rubble of his tattered soul.

  “I’m not telling you to stay with William nor am I telling you to leave him. The decision is yours. By the sound of this group, they will be here for you no matter what road you chose. Be true to yourself. Don’t let anyone force you to do what your head tells you not to do. I’ll be a phone call away should you ever need me.”

  “Thank you, Margo,” Ashley said. “I feel much better. I don’t know what I’m going to do yet, but I’m glad I have my extended family on my side.”

  “I also suggest professional counseling,” Margo added. “You may need a little more than this group can offer you. They’ll be here for the moral support, but you may need the other as well.”

  “Thanks again. I appreciate your kind words.” Ashley touched her stomach. “My baby and I are going to be all right. I know it.”

  “Group hug,” Claudette said, pushing to the front of the line. Everyone jumped up and made a circle around Ashley and squeezed. Ashley felt protected.

  Nothing Like an EX

  “Time to wet your whistle,” Mona crooned. “Let’s take a break. I’ve reinvented the famous Hurricane that they serve down in the French Quarter. Just a little rum in it; won’t hurt a fly. Of course, for the devout Christians and mother-to-be, I have a plain, fruity concoction that is equally good.”

  Margo gave Sylvia a glance.

  Mona brought out the drinks on a wrought-iron serving tray. She served the strawberry-colored drinks in tall, hurricane glasses, waltzing around the room like she owned it, extending her arm to each individual as she invited them to take a glass from the tray.

  “Let’s make a toast,” Mona said, looking in Marvin’s direction.

  “Why don’t you make the toast, since you came up with the idea,” Marvin said matter-of-factly.

  As if Mona was waiting for Marvin to concede, she lifted her glass in the air. “Lift your glass, everyone. To the Ex-Files. To new life, new loves, new beginnings and renewal.”

  “Hear, hear,” everyone shouted in unison.

  “While you sip on your drink and I have everyone’s attention, let me share this,” Mona quipped. “I still don’t know why I’m in this group, but I will say that it has awakened a sleeping giant within me. I moved on with my life some fifteen years ago. I’ve been having a ball since. What I realized from this group was I had dust in my Files. I analyzed it for what it was worth and decided that it was expendable. Once I got rid of the dust, real love was able to sprout.

  “You all met Dr. Michael Broussard over at Claudette’s. I’m not saying that a man defines me, but for the first time in years, someone has walked into my life that happens to be more than just a pretty face with a fancy car, a fabulous house and lots and lots of money. Dr. Broussard represents a man with principles. He saves lives for a living. This man has his life mapped out—knows what direction he’s going. It’s not just about today; it is also about tomorrow. His financially savvy stock portfolios are balanced like his checkbook. He can purchase any car outright with the flick of his Monte Blanc. He serves on boards of major corporations, and he gives tremendous amounts for AIDS research and feeding the homeless. Whew.”

  “Sounds like my Marvin,” Rachel said with a straight face. There was sniggering throughout the room.

  “Marvin isn’t Michael Broussard.”

  “Well, we’ve heard about ‘Michael Broussard,’ but how do you figure into all of this? Did he propose to you? Did he buy you a car? I’m just not getting the correlation,” Rachel said.

  “I wouldn’t expect you to,” Mona shot back.

  “All right,” Sylvia said, forever the mediator. “What are you trying to tell us, Mona?”

  “You too? I’m surprised, Sylvia. Well, Mr. Broussard has asked me to go away with him to Louisiana…to meet his family.”

 
“Ohhhhhhh,” said Rachel sarcastically.

  “Anyway, we will be leaving next weekend, and I’m really looking forward to it. I have feelings for Michael…”

  “Finally,” Claudette cut in.

  Mona rolled her eyes at Claudette. “My feelings for Michael are more than…you know.”

  “No, we don’t know, Mona. Why don’t you tell us,” Marvin said tactfully.

  “You people are just haters. Michael and I are in love. There, I said it.”

  “You told us that a couple of weeks ago, but we’re happy for you, Mona,” Marvin said. “While I have the floor, I’d like to say that I couldn’t agree with you more that I am not Michael, but you don’t know me like that. Don’t forget that I’m on my way to being a Fortune 500 company.”

  “Tell her, baby,” Rachel cooed.

  “All right, all right,” Mona cut in. “Since you people can’t think outside the box, let’s eat. You’ll be singing a different tune once you feast your lips on the New Orleans feast I’ve prepared at Mr. Marvin Thomas’ expense.”

  “Thanks, Mona. I appreciate you cooking for my party. I do want you to know, Mona, that we love you and are happy that you’re happy about the new man in your life.” Everyone clapped. “We know that you can’t help who you are and that you know how to get on most people’s last nerve, but you are consistent.”

  “Got that right,” Claudette put in. Mona stood quietly with her lip poked out.

  “Rachel, will you come here?” Rachel looked puzzled but got up and stood by Marvin’s side. “I’m in love with this beautiful woman,” Marvin continued. Rachel batted her eyes as Marvin wrapped his arm around her. “Sylvia, the Ex-Files was your doing, and it has turned out to be a blessing. It has helped to bring marriages back together, establish new ones…I mean, new relationships, and…”

  “Yeah, you said what you meant, Marvin,” Sylvia howled. “Give it up for Mr. and Mrs. Thomas.”

  “Hold on a minute,” Marvin interrupted. But he couldn’t hold back the chants.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Thomas! Marvin and Rachel! Mr. and Mrs. Thomas! Marvin and Rachel!”

  Even Tyrone and Margo joined in on the chant. Rachel waved “no” with both hands, but her smile said “yes.”

  Mona brought in an empty pot and beat it with a wooden spoon. “Rachel and Marvin, Mona and Michael.” Waves of laughter washed over the room. Marvin had never seen anything so infectious.

  Just before everyone moved to eat, the door to the clubhouse flew open.

  “Hello everyone,” said the new arrival.

  “Anika.” Rachel rushed to meet her. Anika wore a pair of white denim stretch jeans that were sculpted onto her full-figured hips and a multi-colored napkin shirt that covered her small top and waist. “So sorry I’m late, but I had to stop and pick up someone I invited to come along. She’s a fairly recent divorcee. I met her at the spa while giving her a facial.”

  “Well, we’re glad you were able to come. Where is your friend?”

  “She was right behind me.”

  The door opened again. A woman dressed in a smart military-inspired blazer in camouflage green, a green knit tank, a pair of eggshell-colored slacks and a silk camouflage-patterned scarf tied around her neck stepped into the room. Rachel stiffened at the sight of Marvin’s ex-wife, Denise.

  Rachel and Denise went into a diva lock.

  “We’re in the middle of a meeting, and you’re interrupting it.”

  “Rachel—it is Rachel? Why don’t you try and be polite. I’m an invited guest,” Denise drawled. “I’m here to see my husband…”

  “Ex-husband,” Rachel corrected.

  “Whatever. I’m here to see what kind of meeting Marvin is orchestrating. It’s amazing what you learn at the spa. I couldn’t believe it when Anika produced Marvin’s card, talking about he invited her to a support group meeting for ex-wives and husbands. I just had to see for myself.”

  “Look, Denise, you’ve seen it; now you can leave. This group is by invitation only.”

  “Need I remind you again that I was invited?”

  “Well, I’m uninviting you,” Rachel retorted.

  “I am too sophisticated a woman to stoop to your level and give you the behind beating you deserve. I don’t know what Marvin sees in you, but you are no match for me, Miss Thing.”

  “Low is where you go from what I heard.” Rachel pointed her finger in Denise’s face. “Youhad a good man, and you threw him away. I’m not the clean-up woman, but I’m going to tell you in very clear, audible tones so that your sophisticated ears won’t misconstrue what I’m saying…He’s my man now. Holler.”

  “So Marvin likes ghetto girls, now. Holler back,” Denise sneered.

  “What are you doing here, Denise?” Marvin asked, finally freed from the paralysis of shock her appearance gave him. “This is a private meeting.”

  Before Marvin could stop Denise, she moved from the back of the room toward the group that sat eating. Denise looked around the room with distaste and sneered as she devoured each person nibbling on their food. She waved Mona over as soon as she was able to get her attention.

  “Hey, Denise. What brings you here?” Mona questioned looking around the room.

  “Marvin is standing over there with that ghetto woman, if that’s who you’re looking for,” Denise offered.

  “I wasn’t looking for Marvin. Trying to make sure that everyone has what they need since I’m catering this event.”

  “What am I interrupting?”

  “Denise, this is a group of divorced folk…you know…a support group.” Mona sighed.

  “So I heard. You mean to tell me you all sit around discussing your problems?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Well, I’d like to join. I’ve got problems I’d like to discuss with the group. To whom do I speak to about joining?”

  “This might not be the place for you, Denise. Marvin is already a member and it might cause a conflict.”

  “Why, Mona? Because of Ms. Thing back there? I am not afraid of her. I have every right to be here.”

  “This is an invitation-only group, but I’ll introduce you to Sylvia. She’s the founder. It’s up to her.”

  “Not a problem. Introduce me.”

  Don’t Look Now

  Sylvia was talking to Margo when Mona approached with Denise in tow. The twisted look on Mona’s face and her upturned lips indicated trouble was not far behind.

  “Sylvia, this is Denise Thomas, Marvin’s ex.” Mona raised her eyebrows and rolled her eyes so that Denise couldn’t see. “She wants to join the group.”

  Sylvia’s look was grave, but she extended her hand to Denise. “Hello, Denise. Welcome.”

  “I’ll talk with you later,” Margo said as she walked away and grabbed Mona’s arm.

  “I was invited to be a part of this group,” Denise quickly said before Sylvia had an opportunity to get another word out.

  “I’m not sure what your interest is in joining the group, Denise. This is a support group for divorced men and women who are struggling with going on with their lives and feel the need to express their feelings to others. I’m sure you already know that Marvin is a member, and I’m not sure that it would be healthy to have his ex-wife in the same group.”

  “It wouldn’t be healthynot to have me in this group. I think having us both might provide the kind of therapy Marvin and I need to get past the reason for our failed marriage and possibly place us on better footing.”

  “Have you discussed this with him?” Sylvia asked.

  “I was hoping I would get an opportunity today. Instead, people in here are trying to undermine what I hoped to achieve.”

  “And just what do you hope to achieve, Denise? I think Marvin is already on the mend, and I would hate for something to interfere with his progress.”

  “So are you saying that I can’t be part of this group?” Denise questioned. “You know I can call you up on discrimination charges. Do you have a charter, a set
of bylaws that govern this group?”

  “Let’s not get carried away, Denise. If you like, you may stay this evening, but I’d really like for you to think about the reason you’re doing this and what you expect to gain. Our purpose is to heal broken and wounded hearts and give one another a sense of purpose so that we can move on and have happy and productive lives. If that’s not your purpose, this is not the place for you.”

  “Well, Sylvia, I’m a perfect candidate for this group. I feel a sense of family already, and I have a broken heart that needs mending.”

  “As I said, you may visit with us this evening, but let me warn you…I’m sorry, I don’t mean to sound so harsh, but no foolishness will be tolerated here. I hope we understand each other.”

  “Oh, quite well. I’d like to grab a plate, if you don’t mind. I’m quite famished and quite fond of Mona’s cooking.”

  “Help yourself,” Sylvia said, pointing toward the food. “You aren’t fooling me,” she added under her breath.

  When Denise left, Marvin headed her way.

  “You’re not going to let her stay, are you?” he asked, stopping in front of Sylvia.

  “Your ex is a barracuda, Marvin. It’s going to take more than a few words to throw her out. I’m surprised you put up with her as long as you did.”

  “She’s jealous of Rachel…that I got over her so soon. Denise thought I could never love anyone but her. In fact, she had me believing it. I am a simple man, Sylvia. I’m not a player. I don’t hang out with the boys. I don’t hang out in bars. I love football, basketball and Jesus…and Rachel, too.”

  Sylvia smiled at Marvin. “You do love her, don’t you?”

  “I know it hasn’t been that long, but I knew it the first time I laid eyes on her at your house. Rachel had a lot of junk in her Ex-Files, but I knew that girl was the one. If Denise thinks that she can come up in her and try and manipulate somebody—”

  “Are you talking about me, Marvin?” Denise asked, as she barged in on Sylvia and Marvin in her sophisticated sort of way. She put the plastic fork on the side of her plate and then looked between the two.