Ex-Terminator Life After Marriage

by Suzetta Perkins

  “I think it’s going to bypass New Orleans,” Papa said. “Your mother and I will be safe right here. How many of these storms have we survived? Too many to count. Folks are taking all of their belongings just to have to turn around the next day and come back home.”

  “So this is serious,” Michael piped in. “We haven’t been looking at television. I know the rain was heavy on our drive out, but it does explain all the cars on the road.”

  “Listen, young folks. Let’s enjoy our dinner. It’s so good to see my daughter after all these years of her being away.”

  “You knew where I was, Papa. You could have come to see me.”

  “Dinner is served.”

  Saved by the bell, Mona thought.

  Mona showed Michael the bathroom so that he could wash his hands. Large black-and-white pictures of various people, whom Michael assumed were family members, graced the walls.

  An old cherrywood banister led to an upper floor. The rooms were old but airy and were furnished with antique furniture. The house fascinated Michael, and if it weren’t for Rita calling again for dinner, he would have enjoyed exploring a little more. Michael was struck by a photo of five young children on the wall—the youngest, a girl, was dressed in purple taffeta and wearing long braids.

  “That’s a picture of me with my sisters and brothers,” Mona said still wiping her wet hands with a paper towel. “That was taken more than thirty years ago.”

  “You have a beautiful family.”

  “Thank you. Now we better get to the dining room before we have to stand before the firing squad.”

  As they walked toward the dining room, Mona and Michael stole glances at each other. Mona was happy to be home, and she gave Michael a quick kiss before entering the dining room.

  The dining room table was set with the Baptistes’ best silver, and silver serving trays filled with several dishes sat on the buffet. Mr. and Mrs. Baptiste sat at either end of the long dining table and Mona and Michael sat across. Rita served up platefuls of jambalaya and crayfish with pan-fried corn bread on the side. A burgundy wine was served.

  “Your mother and I have missed you very much, Jacqueline. I had hoped we would have seen more of you over the years.”

  Mona sat down her glass of wine—she would need it to get through the night.

  “Papa, I’ve been very busy cultivating my business. I’m a very sought-after caterer of Caribbean cuisine in Atlanta. I don’t often have time for personal things.”

  “Surely, Jacqueline, you could have made some time to come. Your nieces and nephews are growing like weeds, and the oldest will soon graduate from high school.”

  “I’m sorry, Mommy. I had hoped this trip would make up for the time I’ve been away.”

  “Let’s not talk about such sad things,” Jean Claude interjected. “We are glad you are here now.”

  “Yes,” said Mrs. Baptiste. “Jacqueline is just glowing. Don’t you think, Jean Claude? Her face is so full like when I was carrying her in my womb.”

  Michael glanced at Mona, who sat expressionless and refused to look in his direction.

  “Leave her alone, Rosalyn. Jacqueline always did have a contagious smile. Salute,” Jean Claude said, lifting up his glass. “Oh, listen to that wind. It is really howling.”

  “Would you like for me to help you board up the windows?” Michael asked.

  Jean Claude looked in Michael’s direction as if seeing him for the first time. He took another sip of his wine before replying.

  “So tell me, Dr. Broussard. Where did you get your education?”

  “Sir, I went to Johns Hopkins School of Medicine.”

  “Good school,” Mr. Baptiste said with a nod. “And I guess you’re interested in my Jacqueline.”

  Michael proceeded slowly. He was not there to ask this man for his daughter’s hand in marriage. He wasn’t sure where this line of questioning was going.

  “Yes, Mona…I mean, Jacqueline is very special to me. We are still getting to know each other.”

  “I see. So tell me, where are you from—your family, that is?”

  “We are from Trinidad-Tobago.”

  Jean Claude’s eyebrows arched.

  “I’m sure Jacqueline has told you that she was married before. She ran away and got married to a man ’bout your color who was also from Trinidad-Tobago.”

  Mona squirmed in her seat.

  “Papa, Michael is not interested in hearing about my past. That was so long ago.”

  Michael put his fork down. “I would be very interested in knowing all about you, Jacqueline.” Michael watched as Mona’s face changed, like she was trying to hide something.

  “He was studying to be a doctor just like you, Dr. Broussard. He and Jacqueline met at college.”

  Michael watched Jean Claude. He seemed to derive some pleasure out of what seemed to be an uncomfortable moment for Mona. Michael didn’t know what was going on, but it had to have something to do with Mona not seeing her parents for a long time.

  “Rita, get the dessert, please,” Mrs. Baptiste requested, running interference for an awkward situation.

  “You might know the young man,” Jean Claude continued.

  “Papa, enough of this! I don’t want to talk about my past,” Mona said desperately.

  “As you please, Jacqueline. Dr. Broussard, I’ll take you up on that help to board the windows. That wind is packing a bigger punch than I expected.”

  “Sir, I will come over tomorrow after Mona…Jacqueline and I have had breakfast.”

  “Well, that’s settled. There is something about you I like, Dr. Broussard, even though you are a little dark for my liking. Jacqueline is the black sheep in our family. She’s the only one that stayed in the oven too long.”

  “Mr. Baptiste…”

  “Dr. Broussard, I don’t mean any harm by it. I like you, and you already know I love my daughter. A father is a protector of his family. He monitors what comes in and what goes out. It was a little tough for Jacqueline growing up, living under my strict rules and regulations, but she turned out all right even though she’s a feisty one—headstrong, always wanted to do what she wanted to do. And she did. Why don’t we have that dessert now?”

  Michael was feeling a little uncomfortable, but Mona’s father intrigued him. He would like to get to know this man better—he might just be his father-in-law one day. In the meantime, he would get to know Mona better and maybe unearth the secrets she seemed anxious to keep hidden.

  An EX-page out of History

  Sunday morning, Mona and Michael woke up to anxious voices. People were milling in the hotel hallway talking about evacuation. Michael turned on the television and watched as the mayor ordered a mandatory evacuation of the city. Hurricane Katrina was on course for New Orleans.

  Mona looked out the window. People were scurrying about in the rain and taxis were lined up outside the hotel. Mona’s attention was averted when she heard that the airport was shut down.

  “I need to check on my family as well as go to your father’s house and help him board it up. I’m not sure they are as safe as he thinks,” Michael said.

  “Yes, you’re right.”

  Mona had been awake most of the night, playing the scene at dinner over and over in her mind—except she watched her father unravel the pages of her life right in front of Michael—the parts she had purposely not shared with him. Mona believed that Michael wanted to know more, but right now she couldn’t. She wasn’t sure how Michael would react when he found out that she’d been married to his cousin and the circumstances surrounding their divorce. She didn’t want to dredge that up ever again.

  A Time of Healing

  Most of Michael’s family had packed their belongings and set off for higher ground. His sister admonished him to leave with them because she feared the worst. He still had to board up windows at Mona’s parents’ house, and going back to the hotel would not be an option. A long line of cars stretched from Interstate 10 to the Gulf, running away
from what had been announced as a Category Five hurricane, destined to leave damage in its wake.

  Mona sighed. She should have listened to her friends about postponing her trip. She’d been oblivious to the fact that a hurricane might hit New Orleans because Dr. Michael Broussard was all she thought about night and day, and she wanted to be with him when he went to see his family. Now they couldn’t even fly out of the city because their safety net had been grounded, stranding natives and tourists alike.

  “Let’s hurry. I’m afraid that the roads will be tied up with people trying to get out. I think we should leave, too, Mona. I don’t have a good feeling about this storm.”

  “I don’t know if I can leave Mommy and Papa. I’ve just seen them for the first time in almost twelve years, and I can’t…I just can’t leave them, Michael.”

  “Then you must convince them to leave.”

  “I’ll see what I can do. I’m scared, Michael. For the first time in a long time I don’t feel safe.”

  “I’m going to be by your side and we’re going to weather this thing together.”

  Suitcases in the car, Michael and Mona headed toward the mansion. Sunday worshippers piled out of church believing God would see them through. Dark clouds settled in the city while the wind continued to whip its tail.

  “You’re awfully quiet, Mona. You’ve barely said a word.”

  “Just thinking about life, wondering what I’d do if I had a chance to live mine all over again.”

  “I’d come back filthy rich so that I could help everyone who needed a helping hand.”

  “You’re always thinking of someone else,” Mona chided. “You can’t save the world, you know.”

  “That’s true, but I would die trying.”

  “I can visualize it: Black Robin Hood. He takes from the rich and gives to the kids in the hood.”

  “Not quite as I had envisioned it.”

  Mona remained quiet. She twiddled her fingers, then caught her throat. She massaged her neck, but she could not control the volcano in her stomach.

  “Pull over to the side, quick,” she pleaded.

  Before the car stopped, Mona threw the door open, leaned over and retched until there was nothing left in her stomach. She wiped her mouth on the back of her hand and closed the door. She looked straight ahead, avoiding Michael’s stare.

  “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

  “Nothing, Michael, nothing at all.”

  “It couldn’t be nothing since this is the second time in the last twenty-fours you have had an upset stomach. And don’t think I didn’t hear the remark your mother made about you glowing. I’m a doctor, remember.”

  “I’m pregnant. I’m carrying your child.”

  “Somehow, I already knew. I was just waiting for you to confirm it.”

  Mona said nothing—afraid to look at the expression on Michael’s face, afraid joy would turn to disdain, afraid the man she loved would run away.

  The wind continued to whip and small raindrops hit the windshield. Mr. and Mrs. Baptiste were in the yard when Mona and Michael drove up.

  “I was afraid you all weren’t coming,” Mr. Baptiste said as Mona and Michael got out of the car.

  Mona almost fainted as her father came around and gave her a hug and shook Michael’s hand followed by her mother.

  “Lots of traffic on the road, sir,” Michael responded, taking back his hand from Mr. Baptiste’s firm grip.

  “Papa, Mommy, why don’t you come with us? Michael and I think it might be too dangerous for you to stay here. It’s starting to rain again and the wind hasn’t let up at all. We would feel better if you would come with us.”

  “You going to help me board up these windows, young man?” Mr. Baptiste asked, ignoring Mona’s plea.

  “Yes, sir, but I do believe Mona has a good point.”

  “Jacqueline has always been a scared and overprotected little girl. Jacqueline, take your mother into the house and wait for us there. It shouldn’t take us too long.”

  Mona looked at her father in despair. But she put her arms around her mother and Mrs. Baptiste put her arm around Mona’s waist. They turned and went into the house and then the kitchen.

  Mrs. Baptiste put tea bags in two porcelain cups and poured hot water from the kettle that sat on the stove. Mrs. Baptiste nursed her cup and turned to Mona.

  “I’ve looked forward to this day for a long time, Jacqueline. So much time has passed and I thought I might not see you again. I’m sorry for the way things were back then—not understanding your desire to be a cook…”

  “Chef, Mommy.”

  “All right, chef. I wanted you to have the best like your brothers and sisters. I had such high hopes for you because you were such a good student, so full of promise. I know now that my children are individuals, and your papa and I couldn’t dictate how you all live your lives. We wanted each of you to marry well so that your lives would be prosperous, but it doesn’t always turn out that way.

  “At first I wanted to point the finger when your marriage didn’t last. Maybe it was our fault that you ran off. If we hadn’t been so critical, maybe you wouldn’t have made such a rash decision. If we’d kept our noses out of your business, maybe you would have taken the time to get to know Timothy better.”

  “Mommy, Timothy and I were not meant for each other. I should have listened to you and Papa. He was married to someone else when he married me. He was just using me to get a visa. I’m the one who should apologize.

  “I’ve wasted a lot of years. I’m not proud of myself. I was so bent on hurting you and Papa the way you had hurt me…but all I did was hurt myself. You and Papa mean the world to me, and if I could do it all over…”

  Mona began to sob. Mrs. Baptiste put her cup of tea on the table and held her daughter as Mona fell into her arms. They hugged each other for what seemed hours, although it was barely five minutes.

  “I love you, Mommy.”

  “I love you, too, Jacqueline. So tell me about this Michael. Is he real nice? He seems very intelligent.”

  “I love him, Mommy. He’s a doctor just like Timothy.”

  “You’ve seen Timothy?”

  “No. I met someone a couple of days ago who knows him well.”

  “You have a new man now. Timothy is the least of your worries.”

  “Mommy, I have something to tell you.”

  “What, Jacqueline? You sound serious.”

  Mona took her mother’s hand and laid it on her stomach. Mrs. Baptiste’s eyes twinkled.

  “I knew it. I knew it. Jacqueline, you are pregnant.”

  “Yes, Mommy. It’s Michael’s baby. I have another chance to be a mother—something I always wanted to be.”

  Her mother gasped. “You were pregnant before?”

  “Yes. Timothy and I were going to have a baby. I was so happy and I thought Timothy was, too, but that’s when he began to act strange, staying out late and finally not coming home at all. That’s when I found out he had another wife. I don’t know if it was the stress that made me miscarry our baby, but it happened so soon after. It’s the only thing I can equate it to.”

  “You should not have had to bear that all by yourself, Jacqueline. If you had not been so stubborn…I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay, Mommy. You’re right. If I hadn’t been such a mean-spirited person, I would have had the support of my family. I suffered for it, though. But now, Mommy, I’m a totally different person. I’m so glad I’m able to talk openly about my feelings with you. You don’t know how often I needed my mother’s love to carry me through.”

  “You have me now, Jacqueline. Let’s not waste time dwelling in the past.”

  “You’re right, Mommy, but I must tell you about the person I met a few days ago. It was Timothy’s ex-wife, and she said that Timothy is a doctor practicing in Atlanta. But he’s also Michael’s cousin.”

  “You know Timothy?” Michael said, startling Mona and Mrs. Baptiste as he and Mr. Baptiste walked into t
he room.

  “Yes. Timothy Sosa. He’s the guy Jacqueline ran off with and married. It didn’t last long. Jacqueline’s mother and I tried to tell her she was making a mistake, but she wouldn’t listen—and she blames us. That’s why we haven’t seen Jacqueline all this time. Her mother and I were distraught, but we are happy to have her come home at last.”

  Mona stood there feeling the heat from Michael’s wrath.

  “Why don’t we all have some tea,” Mrs. Baptiste said.

  “Doesn’t Michael favor Timothy, Jacqueline? They could be brothers.”

  “I don’t see the resemblance,” Mrs. Baptiste replied.

  “Same height, same color and they are both from the same place.”

  “Timothy Sosa is my cousin,” Michael said without looking at Mona. “Mona, we’re going to spend the night with your parents and head out tomorrow. If we can’t get a flight back to Atlanta, we’ll drive back.”

  Something’s Wrong at this House

  The newspaper carrier cursed. Three days’ worth of papers were crammed in the tube.

  “They should have had someone pick up their papers if they weren’t going to be home,” the route carrier said to no one. “If I leave this on the grass, the first thing they’ll do is call the newspaper. Oh, hell with them.”

  The carrier put the paper on the ground just below the metal receptacle that held the others. It wasn’t his fault they hadn’t picked them up. He pulled his digital camera out of his pocket and took a picture. This was cause for an occasion like this. You had to protect your tail from vindictive customers because it was your word against theirs. The carrier made sure he captured the address on camera so there was no mistake if and when he had to present proof.

  Hurricane Katrina

  The house shook and faded to black. Mona wrapped herself around Michael as the wind’s fury lashed out at the house. The howl of the wind was like an angry voice, deep and commanding, sounding the alarm that trouble was near. The rain came down in torrents, pelting the ground like an atomic bomb.