Painted Passion

by Latisha Brandon

“Who the hell are you?” a shrill voice questioned.

  Ashlyn pushed Kevin, who responded with. “A few more minutes…please. Ashlyn, stop poking me.”

  “I’ll stop poking your side when you tell me who this chick is standing by my bed wearing tacky crotchless pants with nothing underneath!” She was a video girl come to life, straight out of Vibe Magazine. Her hair was blue black, hanging to her minuscule waist. Her flaring hips were a black man’s dream.

  “Who are you calling tacky?” she sneered. “Tacky are those green contacts you’re wearing and your poorly dyed, frizzy hair.” She had the audacity to sit on the edge of the bed. “You have to be a partial, because no true black woman would be caught dead with hair that thick in the roots.” Miss Tacky crossed her legs, dangling a killer stiletto from the end of a red-painted toe.

  “I may appear racially ambiguous to you, but you can be one hundred percent sure that I’m a black woman. So much so that I will kick yo…” Ashlyn didn’t know what came over her, but the rush was tremendous. She dove at Miss Tacky, loving the look of fright upon her face. Miss Tacky had no more words; she was too busy fending off Ashlyn’s advances.

  Kevin woke to crying, horrible wailing. He’d drunk too much the night before, which was so unlike him. But he was worried about Ashlyn. She hardly ate, she could keep nothing in her stomach, and when she turned down a glass of wine, he knew something was wrong.

  “Ashlyn, what the hell is that noise?” Kevin arose to find his wife wearing one of his T-shirts, straddling a woman who lay face down on their bed, wearing crotch-less pants.

  He was just as freaky as the next man, but had he unknowingly pushed Ashlyn over the edge, to where she now believed that she had to try a threesome? Kevin couldn’t lie, the sight before him was highly arousing, but this was Ashlyn, and he had to end the fantasy.

  “Ashlyn, baby, I love you, but this is too kinky even for me.” Was the woman on the bottom crying? Her face was planted into the bedding, so Kevin couldn’t tell. “Ashlyn, get off of her. I think she’s trying to tell us something. I don’t think she can breathe!”

  Ashlyn stood, ignoring the fact that she wore very little clothing. “I think she’s trying to tell me that I was a fool to marry Kevin Zahir Dunmore!” Ashlyn rummaged through the drawers, pulled out a pair of dark grey leggings, and threw them on. “Who is this wench? She was standing over us while we slept.”

  Kevin turned and faced the woman. At that point he knew he was in big trouble. “Reese, what are you doing here?” Kevin knew the answer, but he was trying to buy time.

  “You know this person?” Why was she surprised? Of course he knew this person. Why else would she have been standing over Ashlyn as if she belonged? Ashlyn called herself all kinds of gullible.

  Reese turned to Ashlyn, gladly informing her, “Whenever I’m in town, Kev and I get together. We have an agreement; we drop everything for each other.” She sauntered around the bed to his side. “You might as well exit. Your presence is longer needed.” Reese snickered at Ashlyn.

  Ashlyn pulled on a sweatshirt of Kevin’s and slipped boots onto her feet.

  “You are a bold bitch! I’m his wife…his delusional wife…but still his wife.”

  “Ashlyn, let me explain. Give me a moment to see Reese out,” Kevin pleaded.

  “No explanation needed, I’ll be making my exit with her.” Ashlyn grabbed a carry-on from the closet, throwing clothes inside.

  Kevin stood, momentarily in stunned silence.

  “I’ll send for the rest of my things.” Ashlyn ran down the stairs, hearing Kevin follow.

  He’d somehow managed to don a pair of sweat pants. Reese followed behind him.

  “Kev, you’re not the marrying kind…at least that’s what you told me.” Reese continued wreaking havoc. “Why would you marry Annie, when you could’ve had me?”

  “Reese, I need you to be quiet and leave, because you’re making the situation so much worse. Remember, we’re friends first. Well, I need that friend to leave in peace, so I can explain this to my wife.”

  She was astounded. “You’re really are married? Congratulations, Kev. But be careful,” she said, pointing at Ashlyn. “Ashlyn seems like the violent type. You wouldn’t want to wake up with your manly bits stuffed in your mouth.” Reese kissed his cheek and retrieved her trench coat from the closet. “I’ll get dressed in the concierge’s office…he adores me.” She blew a kiss over her shoulder and left.

  “Is she a prostitute?”

  “No! What type of man do you take me for?”

  She chose not to answer his question, but asked one of her own. “If not a prostitute, then what is she?”

  “A model,” he quietly answered.

  “Let me guess, a men’s magazine model. I damn sure know she’s not walking the runways of Paris.”

  Kevin tapped his nose, letting her know she was dead on. “Ashlyn, Reese and I have known each other for a long time. We had a causal relationship, nothing permanent. However, that was in my past, before I knew you, before we spoke vows. You knew I had a past, we spoke openly about it.”

  “That was before your past woke me up from my sleep. How did she even get in?”

  “Like I said, we had an arrangement, so she used her…” Kevin whispered the last word, “…key.”

  “You gave that play model a key?” She couldn’t believe the situation she now found herself in. It would be funny if she didn’t feel so pathetic right now. “I put everything on the back burner for you, and this is how you repay me?”

  “I never asked you to give up anything. I thought we’d found a way to have both.” Kevin paced in front of her.

  “I’m homesick…I miss my things.” Ashlyn let her eyes wander around the space she had called home for the past seven months. She felt no connection whatsoever. She didn’t notice the changes she’d made to soften the edges. The only thing she could see were the countless women who had stood in the place where she now stood. All the women who had walked through his door. All the women he had charmed and seduced.

  “You tap your nose like this is a game. Do I look like I’m laughing? This is not charades. I need to be out of your presence, because right now I can’t stand the sight of you.”

  “So what are you saying?”

  “I’m going home, back to Atlanta. I’ll send for my things.”

  “That’s it, you’re leaving, without talking more about it?” He knew she was hurt and disappointed. He would do anything to take the events back, but he couldn’t, and she needed to believe him.

  “I followed you into hoochie hell, and I’m just supposed to smile and move on? The women in your past have you spoiled, and I refuse to continue to do the same.”

  Kevin found her finger in his face, but he talked around her finger. “You’ve got the black woman’s grandiose attitude down pat. Full of fire and righteous indignation,” Kevin taunted, applauding her touch of theatre.

  “You’re damn right I do. The next time, if there is a next time, we see each other, it’ll be on my terms and on my ground, when I summon you.” Ashlyn counted her demands off on her fingers. “Arrive with gifts in hand, a more sincere apology, and a helping of humility. Goodbye, Kev.”

  * * *

  “Why does every married woman fleeing her husband find herself on my step?” Makayla asked.

  “Kayla, let me in. Why doesn’t my key work?” Ashlyn questioned.

  “Because I changed the locks.”

  Ashlyn stormed into Makayla’s condominium, throwing herself on the couch. “I’m going to need a copy.”

  “I haven’t seen you in months, and then you pop up, demanding a key to my home.” Makayla pushed Ashlyn’s feet off her sofa, sitting beside her. “What happened?” she casually inquired.

  “I woke up to find a certified teenage wet dream standing over me. She and Kevin had an ‘arrangement.’ She stops by whenever she’s in town. So now I’ve come home with my tail between my legs.” Ashlyn sank down into the familiar couch,
taking comfort from the softness. She looked around her best friend’s meticulous home. “You’re the female equivalent of Kevin.”

  “That speaks highly of him.”

  “Please leave the diva persona at the door. This is me you’re talking to, the same person who shared a mouse—and roach-infested apartment over a liquor store with you.”

  “We were so young, eighteen and nineteen…I still think you should have let your parents buy you a place at the time. Isn’t it just like a rich kid to want to be rebellious? You were pretty fearless, because that place was a dump. While I was pretty used to living in those types of conditions, you, Miss Black American Princess, were not.”

  “You know I would never have gotten out from under my mother’s thumb. She had my entire life planned out right down to a list of potential spouses. If I had stayed I would be hosting garden parties right about now. I had to try to make it on my own and I must say I did.” Ashlyn paused and then continued. “Until I met Kevin…I’m married to a man who compares King magazine to Essence.”

  “I peruse King magazine sometimes,” Makayla told her.

  “Of course you do, because you have the mentality of a man. Makayla, I’m very much aware that men view you as one of the boys.”

  “Was she before you?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “Yes, it does, because we all have a past. Does he know about your relationship with Franklyn?”

  “Yes, he does. He knows all about Frank, but Frank wasn’t standing over us with his bare ass hanging out. Makayla, she was wearing crotchless pants.”

  “Where do you think she found crotchless pants?” Makayla mused aloud, thinking she would love a pair.

  “Makayla, place the kinky beside the diva and listen to me. I got married and I’m questioning whether I made the biggest mistake of my life,” Ashlyn said, giving voice to her worst fear.

  “What we need to do is play some music. I’ll mix the cocktails and we’ll compare relationship horror stories.” Makayla moved to the kitchen, worried about her best friend. Ashlyn was the one who lived in a cloud of perpetual optimism.

  “I can’t drink!” Ashlyn told Makayla’s back.

  Makayla stopped dead in her tracks, speaking, but not turning around. “Why?” she asked, as if the idea of not having a cocktail were foreign and preposterous.

  “Because I’m pregnant, and my baby daddy is twenty-five, drop dead gorgeous, and every time I encounter him I want to shed my panties. Hell, who am I kidding? When I’m around him I don’t wear any!” She put her elbows on her knees and rested her head in her hands.

  “I’m going to be an auntie, the cool auntie who dispenses advice, and the voice of reason between overbearing parents and a rebellious child.” She sounded thrilled. At that moment she noticed the emerald on Ashlyn’s hand. “At least your baby daddy is rich.” she offered sweetly.

  “Thanks, Makayla, you really know how to soothe.” She suddenly looked around. “Where’s Fancy? I thought she would hide for a while, punishing me, but why hasn’t she come out yet?”

  “She’s not here, she went out for a walk.” Makayla said, a little too casually.

  “With whom? Keep in mind I can’t tolerate any more surprises.”

  “You’re about to find out.” Makayla opened the front door while still talking to Ashlyn. “Keep a level head, think about my little niecey.”

  Fancy pushed past Makayla, jumping on Ashlyn, and excitedly licking her face. “Fancy, I’ve missed you!” It was good to know she wouldn’t have to work too hard to win her dog back.

  Time to get her life back on track, minus one husband, plus one kid. She and Kevin were having a baby. Who was she kidding, their lives would forever be intertwined. Was it possible to be terrified and enlivened at the same time? It had to be, because she found herself in that place.

  “She’s happy. Thank you for taking good care of her.” Fancy felt as if she’d gained at least ten pounds. Makayla was probably feeding her bacon, but who was she to complain? She’d skipped away from all she held dear. On the other hand, she’d gained so much more. Ashlyn touched her stomach, because she needed to stay positive. Would he or she have her red hair, Kevin’s beautiful brown eyes?

  A familiar voice yelled, “Ashlyn, it’s so good to see you! How have you been?”

  “Dawn! What are you doing here? How long have you been here?” Ashlyn turned to Makayla. “What have you done? Why is my happily married cousin in your living room dressed like a high-class, Rodeo-Drive-walking, label-dropping housewife? I realize how you feel about marriage, but couldn’t you have left hers alone? Dawn has a good marriage, an exemplary one. Not everyone detests marriage as you do.”

  “What do you mean?” Makayla questioned, hurt by Ashlyn’s allegations.

  “My happily married cousin has left her child and husband to come play with you.”

  “I only helped Dawn pick out better clothes. What’s so sinister about telling her to wear a wrap dress instead of a muumuu?”

  “Don’t taint Dawn with your absurdities.”

  “Taint? I would never try to force my viewpoints on anyone. I simply offered to help with her wardrobe.” Makayla snapped her fingers. “Fancy, just because Ashlyn is here doesn’t mean you get to sit on the couch…get down.” She turned to Ashlyn. “I have nothing to do with the deterioration of Dawn and Haile’s marriage. I think you’re just jealous that I might find your replacement.”

  “We are…” Dawn couldn’t complete her sentence before Ashlyn interrupted her.

  “Jealous?” She was, but only slightly. “Puh-lease…she can have you.”

  Makayla said, “You don’t mean that. We’ve been through too much. Don’t get above yourself just because you were getting some on a regular basis and now you’re going through withdrawal.”

  “Haile and I…” Dawn tried again.

  Completely ignoring Makayla’s customary dramatic rant, Ashlyn said, “Deteriorating marriage? Dawn and Haile? But that’s insane. I’ve never seen a happier marriage. So again, I ask, what have you done? When I departed for Philadelphia, Dawn and Haile were fine. Over the past few months, Dawn and I have emailed and sent text messages. She never spoke about problems in her marriage.”

  Dawn had tried to get a word in for the past ten minutes. “Why are the two of you discussing me like I’m not in the room? Makayla, leave my marriage to me. If I want Ashlyn to know about the condition of it, I will tell her. Ashlyn, there was no way I could have explained all that was going on in an email or text.” Dawn took Fancy’s spot beside Ashlyn.

  Ashlyn held her hand. “What happened?”

  “I began to feel invisible. The sole focus of my life was Haile and Laney. I had no other interests, nothing for myself. Haile began to pressure me about having another child, when I felt as if I were finally coming awake. He didn’t understand when I said I was fighting to find a self-identity. He wanted me to be happy with where I was.”

  Dawn motioned to Makayla who sat on the opposite side of Ashlyn. “Makayla invited me for a week of shopping. I found myself unable to say no, and I’m so glad I didn’t.”

  “To the detriment of your marriage?” Ashlyn asked.

  “I never did anything to harm my marriage, and I won’t allow you to think or say otherwise. What’s the harm in me feeling good about myself? Pampering, cherishing myself. Where’s the fault in that? If Haile can’t see I make a better wife, well, then it’s his loss.” It would be her loss as well. They were good together, but she couldn’t go back to being an indistinguishable peon.

  “Where’s Laney?”

  “She’s at a sleepover this weekend. Don’t worry, Ash, Laney’s being well taken care of.” Dawn laid her head on Ashlyn’s shoulder. “Have you come home to stay?”

  “Yes, I’m home to stay.”

  “Where’s Kevin?” Dawn asked.

  “In the City of Brotherly Love, where I left him,” Ashlyn said. She didn’t want to talk any more about it. “Dawn, I’ve known
Haile from the very beginning and he’s not the type of man to let you walk away from him without putting up a fight.”

  “Is Kevin the same type of man?”

  “I hope so.” She couldn’t lie; she hoped Kevin fought for their relationship, but on familiar ground. She was done with making most of the major changes.

  Makayla clapped her hands. “Enough talk about the men in your lives. Besides, I don’t have one to complain about.”

  “Makayla, that’s by your decision. You had a good one, but you let him go,” Ashlyn informed her.

  “I refuse to talk about it, and you should know how hard it was for me to rebound with a semblance of sanity.” Makayla stood, ushering Fancy out the French doors, breathing in the brisk air. “Let’s go out tonight.”

  “Let’s go dancing and you two can drink my share of cocktails. I’ll be the designated driver,” Ashlyn informed them.

  “Ashlyn, you want to go dancing? You hate dancing,” her best friend said, shocked.

  “Not anymore. Besides, it’s been too long since I had a girls’ night out.”

  “I’ve never gone to a nightclub; I don’t know if I’m ready,” Dawn whispered, unsure if she could.

  “Where have you been?” Makayla couldn’t get over the long list of things Dawn had never done.

  “I was never comfortable in that type of environment. I think I would stick out like a sore thumb, and Haile wouldn’t want me there.”

  “Well, now you have the perfect excuse to go—because Haile wouldn’t want you there,” Ashlyn told her, her eyes suddenly open to the events of Dawn’s marriage. “Is that why whenever I invited you for a long weekend or a simple day trip you would turn me down?”

  “He never came out and said it, but I knew he liked having me at home. In the beginning I didn’t mind, because I was so happy that someone like him married someone like me. I loved being needed. Now I’m not so sure.

  “I know if we remain married, he has no other choice but to accept the person I’m becoming. I needed to realize I’m worthy of his love, but he has to be worthy of mine. I don’t have to be a Stepford wife.

  “You know what, let’s do it, let’s go out. I have the perfect outfit. I brought it from Bella the last time I was here,” Dawn said.