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Ex-Terminator Life After Marriage

Page 22

by Suzetta Perkins


  Marvin followed close on the nurse’s heels. They passed several rooms, making a few lefts and rights before proceeding through a door where Denise lay on a recliner. She looked so fragile to Marvin; the mere sight tugged at his heartstrings.

  “What is this I hear about you not taking chemo?” he asked gently.

  “I’ve been thinking, Marvin. My chances may be better if I have a radical mastectomy.”

  “When did you decide this?”

  “I was lying here thinking about Danica and what would happen to her if I died. Marvin, I know I’ve been a vain woman most of my life, but I’ve got a little girl I’d like to see grow up and give me some grandbabies. My chance of survival will be greater if I do this, and I don’t want to suffer through the side effects of chemo and the bald head.”

  “Even if it would save your life? You’ve got that vain thing going again.”

  “I haven’t been a role model, or the best wife, or the best mother I can be. I’ve lost a lot because of my stubbornness and bourgeois attitude, but if I can increase my chances of being able to raise my child, I want to take it.”

  The door suddenly flew open and in walked a tall, dark and statuesque physician in civilian clothing—a long white coat draped over it.

  “Hello, Mrs. Thomas. I hear you’ve made a decision regarding your breast cancer treatment.”

  “Yes, Dr. Sosa. And this is my husband ah…ex-husband, Marvin Thomas.”

  “Nice to meet you, sir. I’m Dr. Timothy Sosa, Mrs. Thomas’ physician.”

  Marvin extended his hand. “Nice to meet you, Dr. Sosa. I just need to know if Denise’s decision is the best one.”

  “Let’s ask the patient.”

  “Dr. Sosa,” Denise began, “I know in the beginning you suggested that a mastectomy might be the best route for me to take considering the stage my cancer is in. I know I wasn’t very agreeable to that in the beginning, but after thinking about it and praying about it, this is what I want to do.”

  “Let me say this, Mrs. Thomas. You have stage II breast cancer, for which we are treating you appropriately. Since we are already on course with your chemo treatments, it’s advisable that you complete today’s treatment. That way, if you’re sure about having a mastectomy, your tumor will have had enough shrinkage for us to consider your request. Right now, we need to get your vitals and blood count so that we can proceed with your treatment.”

  “Dr. Sosa, am I going to lose all of my hair?”

  “More than likely. You don’t have much now, which is typical after the second cycle of treatment. Since we are hoping that all goes well, you’ll be able to grow your hair out again.”

  Denise smiled.

  “Have you told the rest of your family about your illness?” Dr. Sosa glanced at Marvin. “Other than Mr. Thomas?”

  Denise winked at Marvin. He smiled back but was not amused.

  “Not yet, but Marvin and I will tell them this week.”

  Marvin flinched and gave Denise a haunted look. This was harder than he expected. He’d been caught up in the moment of Denise’s desperate plea for help. Being the decent man that he was, there was nothing else to do but to be there for her. He was not enjoying the cozy little family environment that she was painting for the good doctor, though. Maybe Denise was scared and was holding on for dear life. Rachel crossed Marvin’s mind, and suddenly he wanted to talk to her.

  Dr. Sosa briefly placed his hand on Denise’s folded ones for reassurance. Then he prepared to administer the IV portacath that would be inserted just under her collarbone. “Let’s get started.”

  Marvin moved toward Denise and stroked her arm. She looked innocent and helpless. “I’ll wait for you in the lobby.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’ll let you know when Mrs. Thomas has finished her procedure,” Dr. Sosa said. “Then we can talk about scheduling her surgery.”

  “All right, Doctor.” Marvin shook Dr. Sosa’s hand and left the room.

  Marvin felt his heart flutter. He would be there all the way for Denise, but he needed to reach Rachel because he was going to need support as well.

  Life Support

  Denise felt a little weak but much better than she did after her second treatment. First thing in the morning, she would be at the clinic to get her Neulasta shot to boost her white cell count. She adjusted her wig and looked in the mirror, applying a small amount of lipstick. A month from now, she would be minus one breast, but she felt confident that her life would be extended well beyond the one to five years she feared could be her diagnosis.

  Her strength and energy came through Marvin. She felt awfully lucky to have this wonderful man back in her life, although it was at her expense. She walked out of the hospital room and smiled as she approached Marvin sitting in the waiting room.

  “Mr. Thomas, I’m ready,” Denise said.

  She wrapped her arms through Marvin’s as he led her to his car.

  “What’re you thinking?” Denise asked. “You’ve hardly said a word.”

  “I can’t imagine what you’re going through. I wish I could wave a magic wand and you would be healed. Too much all at once, I guess. I don’t know if I can give you what you need.”

  “Your being here with me today has meant so much to me. And with advanced technology in chemo treatment, a cancer patient, at least in the early stages, doesn’t suffer as much. Marvin, I believe that I’m doing the right thing by having this mastectomy.”

  “Why haven’t you told your family? Does Harold know?”

  Denise stopped and pulled her arm from Marvin and held her chest.

  “My family has been through a lot with me and my troubles. First a failed marriage—that just doesn’t happen in my family. I was the successful one but I had to go and screw it all up by…by making a mockery of my marriage…and then a baby that wasn’t ours. My family is a loving group, but heaven help you if you screw up and give the family a bad name. They weren’t ready for my sad news. It would have killed them for sure. As for Harold, we only share a daughter between us. You and he are blood, and whether you know it or not, he misses you, Marvin.”

  “What if things don’t go the way you hope? I don’t want to sound as if I don’t share your optimism; I want to believe that you will be all right. You have a daughter who’s depending on you, and you need to be up front with Harold about your health and what it might mean. I will be here to support you all I can, but you’ll need the support of your family who loves you dearly and can give you all the extras you’ll need.”

  Denise was silent, letting Marvin’s words soak in. She slipped her arm back in his.

  “Why don’t we go to our favorite restaurant? I’m famished and not quite ready to go home.”

  “I’d rather not, Denise. I have a lot to do at the office.”

  “Marvin, I’m scared,” Denise admitted. “I’m scared to go home. I’m afraid to go to sleep. I’m afraid I might not wake up.”

  Marvin pulled Denise close to him, and she laid her head on his shoulder.

  “I know you’re scared, Denise. So am I.” Marvin lifted her chin with his finger and smiled. “Why don’t we have lunch, Mrs. Thomas?”

  They settled on Steak and Ale. It was a little early for a steak, but he felt like he needed substance to get him through the rest of the day. He knew that Denise would want him to stay with her, but he had some very important business that needed to be taken care of at the office. And as real as the disease was that racked Denise’s body, Marvin wished he could distance himself from the pain of her affair with Harold, which still seeped through his pores.

  The waitress took their orders and Denise headed for the ladies’ room.

  “I’ll be right back,” she said softly, giving Marvin her winning smile that stole his heart so long ago.

  “I’ll be right here when you get back.”

  Marvin watched as Denise disappeared from sight. He surveyed the room and pulled out his cell phone. He looked around again and then dialed the num
bers.

  “Rachel, please don’t hang up. I need you.”

  EX-travagance at its Best

  Excitement made Mona smile as she sifted through her purchases from the last two days of relentless shopping. Bags from Neiman’s, Macy’s and Saks lay on her king-sized bed. There were dresses in exotic colors, cotton shirts and matching shorts, casual slacks for sightseeing and a sexy after-five dress should an evening that demanded it arise. She pulled more than ten shoe boxes from the box that had been delivered today—everything from the sexiest diva heel to the most elegant sandal.

  Prancing before the mirror, Mona tried on outfit after outfit until she was satisfied that her purchases were indeed what she wanted, kissing the point of her dainty index finger and tapping on the mirror that glanced back at her.

  “Mr. Broussard, eat your heart out.” Mona cackled as she took off her last purchase and neatly folded it and put it into her suitcase. “A new queen of hearts is about to descend upon New Orleans.”

  Ever since Michael said he wanted to take Mona to meet his family, she fantasized about the moment they would arrive in New Orleans, anticipating the look on their faces when she strolled through the airport on Michael’s arm. Their eyes would be fixed on her stunning beauty, sizing her up and taking bets as to her family’s standing in society; she was sure that Michael had told them all about her. She would be gracious, not too snooty. You never show all your cards in the beginning. If the Broussards passed her inspection, there was no telling where she would go from there.

  Mona’s thoughts turned to her family. She had not seen them in ten years. There were several attempts to bridge the rift, especially after Timothy was no longer in her life. It was always Mona going home to see them. Not once had her parents or siblings journeyed to Atlanta to see her. No news was good news, but Mona missed them dearly and she wanted nothing more than to put her arms around her mother and father and tell them she loved them.

  A lone paper sack sat on the bed, away from the other pretty packages. She picked it up and looked inside, finally pulling out the contents. She read the package label and started for the bathroom.

  Brrng, brrng, brrng.Mona raced for the phone and jerked it from its base, dropping the package back onto the bed.

  “Hey, baby. What time are you coming over?”

  “Sorry to disappoint you, sweetheart, but this is Sylvia.”

  “What do you want?”

  “I do not like the tone of your voice—but I forgive you. I can tell you are madly in love with Dr. Michael Broussard.”

  “And what’s it to you?”

  “Look, Mona. I was thinking about that episode with Denise last night, and I’ve come up with what I think is a great idea.”

  “Great idea for whom? Sylvia, I still can’t get over her snatching that wig off her head and announcing she has breast cancer. Poor Marvin. He’s going to end up taking care of that girl after all.”

  “My idea, Mona, is we get together and support Denise in whatever way we can. Ex-Files has to be about something. Look at Claudette and Tyrone. They have found their way back to each other.”

  “Tyrone probably smelled the check coming after Claudette’s shop burned down.”

  “Girl, you are crazy,” Sylvia said, coughing in between laughs.

  “All jokes aside, I like your idea, Sylvia. Makes me feel human.”

  “Michael makes you feel human.”

  “Got that right. We’re going to New Orleans this weekend.”

  “That’s right. Girl, go and have you some fun.”

  “I plan to do just that. Count me in on whatever you want to do for Denise.”

  “I’ll touch base with Marvin about the particulars of her treatment. Maybe we can take turns going to the clinic with her.”

  “How’s Rachel taking this?”

  “Not well. Just as she thought she found the man of her dreams, in walks the jealous ex-wife who has real issues that maybe only Marvin can handle.”

  “What a drag.”

  “Oh, oh, oh, today, Ashley’s ex-husband dragged her down to city hall to apply for a marriage license.”

  “Was she kicking and screaming?”

  “Not enough, apparently.”

  “She asked for it, inviting him back into her bed.”

  “He tricked her, Mona.”

  “Dumb blonde. Need I say more?”

  “Mona, something just came to me. The Gordons…”

  “You mean Kohara and…”

  “Yes, yes. Her fund-raiser was to raise awareness for breast cancer. Maybe she can help us with Denise.”

  “Girl, what a brilliant idea. I’ll contact her and see what she can do.”

  “Let me talk with Marvin and I’ll get back with you.”

  “All right. Let’s talk as soon as I return from my trip.”

  “Okay. I’ve got to call the others. Have a safe trip.”

  Mona put the phone down. She took time from her purchases to wonder about Denise. She didn’t know Denise as well as she did Marvin, but she’d interacted with the woman at several big functions she’d catered for Marvin.

  Denise always played the role of the executive of the executive husband. There was no illusion in anyone’s mind that Denise was her own woman and that Marvin did not define who she was in society. In fact, Marvin was just an asset that boosted her status among the rich and not so famous. Now she was vulnerable and at the mercy of the little people.

  Mona held her breasts tight as Denise’s announcement came back to her with a vengeance.

  Mona shook her head. So many years had passed, but Timothy crossed her mind. His dream was to be an ob-gyn doctor. Mona wondered what had become of him.

  She looked at the clock. She was going to be late for her date at the beauty shop. She moved her empty shopping bags to one side of the room and left her purchases on the bed. She picked up the small package that was in the brown paper bag and disappeared into the bathroom. She emerged ten minutes later without the package. Tying back her braids, Mona grabbed her purse and headed out the door.

  Jacqueline Monique Baptiste

  “Girl, it’s a wonderful day,” Mona chirped. “Claudette, I need the full works for my braids. I want them to smell extra spicy. You know I’ve got to have it going on for my trip to New Orleans.”

  “So you and Mr. Broussard are going to do this?”

  “Oh yes, and you should see what I’m taking on the trip. I am so tired from all the shopping I’ve been doing the last two or three days.”

  “So, you’ve been on Bourgeoisie Boulevard spending all of your money?”

  “Claudette, don’t hate. It doesn’t become you. I am so looking forward to going home to see my family.” Mona paused. “It’s been a long time, but it will be extra special because I’ll have Michael by my side.”

  “You don’t know anything about him.”

  “I know enough. He’s rich, rich and rich.”

  Claudette and Mona laughed.

  “You know being rich isn’t everything. It’s the rich guys you have to watch.”

  “Well, how are you and Tyrone getting along? It’s never the same when they come back.”

  “How do you know? Did Timothy ever come back to you?”

  “So nasty so early.”

  “Well, you need to be careful what you say to people. Tyrone and I are doing great. Even the kids have settled down, and I think our marriage has a wonderful chance at restoration. Now sit your ass down in this chair so I can make you pretty for Mr. Broussard.”

  “That’s what I’m talking about,” Mona cackled. “Make me pretty for my man; I’ll do the rest.”

  “I know you will.” Claudette laughed. “Poor Michael, he is in for it.”

  “Don’t you worry about Michael. I’m the one you need to say a prayer for because that man of mine is a tiger.”

  “Uhmmm, got your tank full already.”

  “Let’s just say, when you hear the roar, it’s my man fully satisfied.”

>   Mona and Claudette laughed and laughed until Mona was about to choke. Mona settled down and caught a glimpse of half of a cigarette crumpled up in an ashtray.

  “So you’re smoking again, Claudette?”

  “Mind your own business, Mona. You know better than to go meddling.”

  “We stood in the hot sun selling barbecue dinners to save your tail. Don’t you get it, Claudette? Your children could have died and you could have lost everything. Besides that, you could get lung cancer. Did last night have any effect on you?”

  “Hold it, Mona. I’m trying. That was sad about Denise. Sylvia called awhile ago talking about doing something for her.”

  “I know. I think it’s a great idea. But I don’t want to have to have one for you, too. One fund-raiser is enough, although I was happy to be a part of it. Even though I talk crazy, Claudette, I’m happy for you and Tyrone. I’m not jealous; I think I’d just like to have a little happiness in my life, too.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with that, Mona. You deserve it. Speaking of happiness, I’ve got to check on Ashley. That crazy ex of hers is trying to drag her back to the altar.”

  “Ashley needs to give him a swift kick in the…well, I won’t say it, but she needs to demonstrate to him that it’s not happening. She’s going to have to get out of the house or have him put out of the house.”

  “I’m afraid that he might hurt her. She has a doctor’s appointment tomorrow, and I’m going to close the shop for a few hours and go with her. I’m really concerned for Ashley.”

  “Maybe she should take out a restraining order.”

  “Those are worthless as Monopoly money. One of my best girlfriends took out a restraining order on her ex-husband who stalked her day and night after she left him. They had a son, and the ex vowed that my girlfriend wasn’t going to take his son away. He was not to go within two hundred feet of her, but that jackass didn’t care what the law said. One night he just went crazy. He went to her house and started banging on the front door. My girlfriend called the police, but they couldn’t do anything because all he was doing was banging on the door. Well, that fool went into the yard, picked up a brick, broke the front window and went inside and murdered my girlfriend. I cried for days.”

 

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