“Well, where in the world is Miss Eve?” I finally ask. “I’m worried about her. She’s really late.”
“Oh?” Kat looks up at me from her Essence magazine. She looks puzzled. “Didn’t she call you?”
“Call me?” I shake my head. “No.”
“Hmpf. That’s funny. She said she’d call you. She leaves tonight.”
“She leaves? Tonight?” I spin around, surprised and confused. “Where’s she going?”
“To Boston,” Kat replies.
“Boston?” I ask.
“Yeah, Boston. She said something suddenly came up.”
Yeah, like my husband’s dick?
Kat has no idea she just dropped a bomb.
“Eve is in Boston?” The words are still stinging and ringing in my ears. “Is that what you said?”
“Yeah, that’s what I said.” Kat is looking at me like I’m nuts. “She said she was going to call you before she caught the last flight out tonight.”
“Well, she didn’t!” I angrily snap back and slam my wooden spoon down on the kitchen counter.
“Whoa!” Kat puts up a defensive hand. “Don’t get mad at me. I wasn’t the one who stood you up for dinner. I’m here and I’mma eat my chicken.” She rolls her eyes.
“She still should have called, Kat,” a more level-headed Hope chimes in. “That’s just plain rude, especially if your girl went through all the trouble to do all this cooking.” She motions toward the dinner table, decorated for a feast for four friends. “Honey, did you check your machine? Are you sure she didn’t leave you a message? She said she was going to call you.”
“No, she didn’t.” I am still in shock. “Eve is really in Boston?”
“Yes. Yes. Yes! Eve is in Boston. Eve is in Boston. Big deal—let’s eat.” Kat swoops up her martini and heads for the dinner table.
“Eve is in Boston.” I shake my head in utter disbelief.
“How many times are you going to say that?” Kat snaps. “Let’s just eat, please! That fried chicken smells so good.”
The pieces of the puzzle are suddenly starting to fit.
“Garrett is in Boston too,” I say.
“And?” Hope doesn’t get it.
“Garrett and Eve are in Boston together,” I reveal, slowly and surely. “They are having an affair.”
Hope’s and Kat’s heads snap back at the same time. Hope drops her fork. Startled by this sudden revelation, Kat puts down her martini.
“Whoa! Hold up—wait a minute,” she says, squinting at me with her head cocked to the side. “What did you say?”
I nod my head slowly and stare at the hardwood floor. “Eve and Garrett are having an affair. It’s been going on for a while.” I look at each of them for any possible signs of their knowing.
“Please don’t say something like that if it’s not true,” pleads Hope. “Are you absolutely sure? I mean, really, do you have any proof?”
“Hope, I found her red hair in my bed, okay?”
“Oh my God!” Hope and Kat gasp, understanding the severe and horrible implications of such a find.
“I found another strand of her red hair in my bathroom—in my tub, no less!”
As my emotions begin to percolate, Kat and Hope sit there, wide-eyed and slack-jawed.
“And Maxine told me that Garrett has been giving Eve gifts. I think I even saw some lingerie he gave her. Shit! I just know, y’all. To tell you the truth, I have always felt there was something more than an ‘old friendship’ between Garrett and Eve.”
Hope looks shattered, as if she is about to cry. “But, honey, do you really think Eve—our friend—would …” She gestures her hands around in circles in the air, unable to speak the words that will annihilate what we have believed to be reality up until now. This particular truth will surely and severely hurt us all. Life, as we know it, will never be the same.
“Everything seems so clear now as I look back. Garrett has changed. Our marriage has changed. I have changed. There are actually times when I feel like I’m dead.”
“Oh, honey …” Hope and Kat try desperately to comfort me. I confess to Kat and Hope that I feel that I have truly lost myself and am on the verge of losing my mind. At the same time, I sit here wondering if maybe I’m just hallucinating. I know where everything is in our beautiful brownstone—the clothes, dirty and clean; the bills, paid and unpaid. I even know where Garrett can find his misplaced socks, his golf glove, or lost keys, but ask me where I am, and I could no more tell you than the man in the moon.
The only place I feel alive and important is at work and out with my camera crew, chasing the news of the day through the fast-paced, hard, and dangerous streets of New York City. Here, I’m an eyewitness to the best and the worst of human nature. Funny how I can witness the same things in my own home, behind closed doors that seem so strong, solid, secure, and impenetrable, but, in reality, are not.
Having finally spoken my truth, releasing my worst nightmare and secret to my best girls, I burst into tears. I wail and sputter and cough my way through this heavy burden and unrelenting pain of finally facing my new reality.
Hope and Kat run over and grab me, just before I sink to the floor, wailing aloud like a desperate, wounded animal. My two best girlfriends hold me, locking me tightly within their loving arms, as together we drop to our knees. They will not let me go. They squeeze me even tighter, surrounding me with their love.
Kat keeps repeating, “I got you. I got you, baby,” gently whispering the words into my ear so they drum home her message of care and concern and support. I know it is not easy for Kat to surrender to such a caring place. I know it deeply pains her to see me so weak. I know it scares her when it is not her time to be tough.
“Let it out, baby girl.” Hope rocks me as I bawl in pain. “Just let it all out. We’re here with you. We got you, Des. Just let it all out.”
And I do, for what seems like days.
Once I have finally calmed down, Kat and Hope move me over to the couch, stretch me out, and cover me with an old quilted throw from back home. We say nothing. We just sit and think in silence, staring out the bay window, as the candles burn down to melted stubs, and our special feast of friends turns cold. We have all lost our appetites.
Finally, Hope breaks our silence. “What are you going to do?” she asks gently. “I don’t know, Hope,” I reply weakly. “I know I’m not happy. I believe this thing with Eve is Garrett’s way of getting even with me for some reason. We are so distant these days.” I start to cry again but fight through the pain to continue. “I truly believe in my heart that Garrett has always had a thing for Eve. This is like their unfinished business from college. I don’t think I could have stopped them, even if I was aware that something was going on.”
“That motherfucker,” Kat hisses. “Men are going to do whatever they’re going to do, honey. Even if you confront him about it, he’s still gon’ lie to you right there in front of your face.”
“Hey, have you confronted him—or Eve, for that matter?” Hope asks.
“After Maxine told me that Eve said she was feeling uncomfortable with Garrett hitting on her and giving her gifts, I asked her about it.”
“Eve?”
I nod.
“Well, what’d she say?” Kat sits on the edge of her seat.
“I asked her if Garrett was doing anything to make her feel uncomfortable, and she said no.”
“Did you ask her specifically about the gifts Maxine claims Garrett’s been giving her?” Hope asks.
“No,” I admit, realizing now that I was afraid of the truth. It hurts too much to know the whole truth sometimes. But perhaps it hurts even more when you don’t.
“Well, why the hell didn’t you ask?” Kat demands as she stands up, hands on her hips. “I don’t know why you didn’t bust that bitch’s ass right then and there.”
“Why not bust Garrett’s ass?” Hope throws back at Kat. “He’s the one who stepped out of their marriage.” She turns back to me. “Oh, how could they do this to you—to us? Garrett should know better. They both should … oh, dear …”
“Yeah,” Kat agrees. “First rule—you never shit where you eat.”
We sit again in silence that speaks so many words. “C’mon, y’all, tell me—you really saw no signs?” I’m desperate to know if I am the last to know. “Please, tell me the truth.”
Kat and Hope look at each other and then to me.
“Well? Did you know all along?” I continue to press the question, looking back and forth at my two best friends for anything close to a clue.
“Well, we have noticed that Eve has been acting strange lately, you know, canceling on us at the last minute a lot,” Hope says.
“She has also become unusually secretive,” Kat adds. “We just figured she had another private dancer. We had no idea the dancer would be Garrett.”
“Hm-hm-hm.” Hope shakes her head in disbelief.
“But to tell you the stone-cold truth,” Kat suddenly pipes up, “I honestly thought the bitch was fucking Maxine.”
Hope and I almost fall on the floor.
“What?” we respond in unison.
“Seriously. That’s why I think Maxine told you that shit about Garrett. She wanted you to get all upset ’cause Garrett’s getting in her way.”
“Oh, Lord.” Hope exhales as she lifts her palms to heaven. “This is too many things.”
I sit here simply dumbfounded, speechless, and confused.
“Yeah, honey, Maxine is an old dyke from way back,” Kat continues. “She runs a lot of product for Fritz down in the Chelsea projects, and that’s how she hooked up with Eve. Eve delivers the goods, you might say.”
Hope and I glance at each other for a quick reality check and then turn back to a babbling Kat as we hang on every word.
“You see, Fritz made Maxine like a little kingpin down in Chelsea. She gets a little power, a little extra money for that lazy kid of hers, and she also gets Eve, who of course wants to keep all her meal tickets happy.” Kat delivers the punch line with the dramatic flourish of a great gossipmonger.
“Kat,” I say, fearing we have gone from bad to far worse. “What in the world are you saying? Frankie and Maxine are sharing Eve—and now with Garrett?”
“I’m just sayin’ that as quiet as it’s kept, a lot of those nice furs and jewels ain’t from Fritz, honey. Huh-uh. They’re from Big Momma Maxine.”
“Aw, c’mon, Kat,” I say.
“Well, we know they ain’t from Garrett with his cheap-ass!” Kat snaps.
We all agree.
“Y’all remember that time that asshole gave you them zircons and made you believe they were real diamonds till Hope and I got you to take them fake shits to my jeweler boyfriend, who laughed and told you to get some new earrings and a new husband. You should have known something was up with that dickhead then.” Kat sucks her teeth and rolls her eyes.
But Kat was right; Garrett had led me to believe that those fake diamond earrings were actually real. They turned out to be just as fake as our marriage.
“I need a drink,” I say, exasperated.
“Me too,” Kat and Hope chime in and the three of us head off to the kitchen to mix up some very, very strong martinis.
“Have you talked to an attorney?” Kat asks as she pours our drinks. “You know you may need more proof of this affair than just your gut. Any letters, phone calls, pictures of the motherfuckers?”
“No,” I sadly reply. “I just can’t believe this, y’all. I am so embarrassed. How has my life gotten to this point?” I start to well up again.
Kat throws out a batch of tough love as she hands me a drink. “You’ll get through this, girlfriend,” she says as she lifts her martini glass. “You gotta get through it to get to it! Here’s to gettin’ to it. Cheers!”
“Cheers!”
Hope places her cold martini on the table and her warm hand on my shoulder. “Forget about feeling embarrassed in front of us,” she reassures me. “We’re your girls. We got you. Remember, we’re not here to see through each other; we’re here to see each other through.”
“What have you guys been doing, reading a bunch of self-help books or something?” I tease.
“After it’s all said and done, I guess I’m not really all that surprised,” Hope admits with her head down. “We all saw from day one how much Eve drooled over Garrett and his big TV position.”
“You think all of this is for a TV job?” I ask incredulously.
“Maybe for Eve. She has nothing else,” Hope replies.
“’Cept ho-ing,” says Kat. “And we still don’t know why your idiot husband would risk everything he has by doing something and someone so stupid and so close to home.” Kat bites her martini olive and chews it up. “I’m sorry, but you don’t work out your problems with your wife by sticking your dick in another woman’s pussy!”
“Kat!” Hope snaps.
We take long sips of our drinks, staring off into space, in wonder of what we’re all now aware of.
“What are we going to do now?” asks an exasperated Hope.
Kat looks up, waits a beat, and then turns to me and says, “Wipe your tears and dress to kill, honeybunch. We’re going to Boston.”
Chapter Eighteen
Thanks to Hope’s job as a flight attendant, we are well on our way to Boston after she finagled three last-minute buddy passes on the shuttle from New York. I admit that we are still a bit tipsy from our martinis back at my house, but we’ve had just enough of the liquid courage to get us on that plane by 8:00 p.m. for our one-hour trek north. We should beat Eve there—but only by an hour or two. We’ve got to move fast.
I called Garrett’s assignment desk before we left for the airport to ask Garrett’s boy, Stevie, where they were putting up my husband in Boston for the big race riot story. The girl who answered the phone informed me that there was no one named Stevie on the desk, no one named Stevie in the entire newsroom, but because she knew I was Garrett’s wife, she would give me the information. Garrett’s staying at the Ritz-Carlton. Once in Boston, we plan to race over to the swanky hotel, all in hope of storming my husband’s room, where we highly suspect we’ll find him fucking my best friend.
Oh, this’ll never work.
“Y’all got your tickets? We’ve gotta board the plane,” Kat barks as we march down the long LaGuardia Airport hallway leading to the shuttle gate. Kat is acting as if we’re on some kind of military war mission. Perhaps, in a strange way, we are.
Finally seated on the plane, Kat, still breathless, holds an emergency strategy meeting across the aisle.
“Look, we’ll just tell the guy at the front desk that you came to the hotel to surprise your husband for his birthday or something. Hell, you’ve got proof you’re his wife. Wave the ring.”
“Okay, Kat,” I say, totally exasperated. “This is crazy!”
“No, it’s not,” Kat spits back in a harsh whisper. “Not if you want that bitch to stop fuckin’ your husband.”
“Be brave, girl,” Hope offers as she gently pats my hand. “We’re with you on this. Plus, you need to know once and for all what’s really going on between Garrett and Eve—if anything. We’re here to support you. Do not worry.”
I am less worried about the plane going down.
“What if he’s there alone?” I persist. “What’ll I say then?”
“Well, then, say you came to surprise him, that you love him, and then you jump his bones, and get your husband back.” Kat’s cocky smile says she has it all figured out.
“Wouldn’t that be a blessing?” Hope always imagines good things. “I mean, I really pray she’s not there, and this is all a big misunderstanding.”
“Me too,” I say under my breath. I look out the window and down at the bright pinhead lights winking from the ground below. These may be my last moments of solitude. We’ll soon land in Boston, where I may face one of the biggest challenges of my life.
The tall, slender flight attendant speaks with a silky voice through the airplane’s PA system. “Please fasten your seatbelts and prepare for landing. Gather your belongings, and please be careful when opening the overhead bin, as stored items may have shifted during the flight.”
Lady, my whole life has shifted during this flight.
We beat the crowd to the taxi stand and hail a cab. None of us says a word as we make our way through the streets of Boston, silently preparing for what, we do not know.
The Ritz-Carlton reeks of elegance. We drive up to the five-star hotel, where a smiling uniformed gentleman with a bright red face approaches our cab and swings open the door.
“Welcome to the Ritz Cah-lton,” the man exudes in his Boston accent, which only reminds me of how far away we are from Harlem. “Can I gah-ther your bahgs, ladies?” He offers his impeccable white-gloved hand to help us out. Although the man has a round pouch of a stomach, the brass buttons on his jacket still lie uniformly neat and flat.
“We don’t have any bags,” Kat replies matter-of-factly as she slowly steps one of her long cocoa legs out of the cab. She lifts her skirt just a bit, and then, with a coy smile, she offers the man her hand. Quite pleased, he helps her out of the car, stealing a quick glance at her lithe legs. As Kat stands, she moves in closer to her unsuspecting prey. With a sexy lift of her eyebrow and a naughty twinkle in her eye, she seductively slips the man a hefty tip inside his left breast pocket. She smiles again, serving the man a sweet little pat-pat-pat on his pocket and then winks as she turns and smoothly floats away. “Thank you, sir,” she purrs.
The man’s eyes follow the slow and purposeful sway of Kat’s voluptuous hips as she saunters her way up the long marble staircase leading to the world-famous Ritz. The uniformed man with the big brass buttons admires Kat as if she’s a delicious piece of chicken.
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