Vernon drove to The Perfect Fit on South Chicago, thinking he’d crash on the couch in his office. Unfortunately, the key card he needed to get in was not-so-safely tucked away in his wallet—a wallet he hadn’t seen since he’d left Tanya’s place. His life was in that wallet!
Vernon trailed back to the house on Wabash Avenue, testing the bars first to see if he could find a way in. No such luck. He reached in his pockets and pulled out the chump change his “best friend” had given him. Flipping the bills within his fingers, he came up with a brilliant way to show Brandi and Tanya he meant business.
CHAPTER Seventeen
Tanya leaned back in the vinyl chair in the solarium, scanning the contract a third time.
Brandi slowly read the terms, her voice polite, almost questioning. “Breakfast at seven, eleven on weekends, a packed lunch for the kids every day and one for myself when I request it. Dinner at seven every evening, whether I’m here or not. By the way, we don’t eat pork or catfish.”
“That’s half of the good stuff. Are you guys Muslim or something?”
“No, but my good parents were.” Brandi lowered her gaze back to the document. “Laundry, dusting, grocery shopping, the beds made. Kids’ doctors’ appointments, track, volleyball.”
“Gardening?”
Brandi’s liquid brown eyes twinkled with mischief. “No, we have a guy that comes in once a week.”
“Windows?”
Brandi shrugged before taking a long, slow breath. “Schedule a service for the windows. As many as this house has, I wouldn’t wish them on my worst enemy.” Silence extended between them for several seconds before she shrugged. “No pun intended.”
“This seems so…strange,” Tanya said, taking a long sip of juice. “Why would you help me this way? You don’t even know me.”
Brandi was silent for a moment. “Because despite outer appearances, you’re me with the same broken heart, you’re me with the same broken dreams and no direction. And I truly believe we’re both victims here—not enemies. I just think that we’ll both come out ahead on this one—and Vernon will get a lesson he’ll never forget.”
Tanya sighed. “I guess I’ll just have to look at it as a new job—one with benefits.”
Taken aback at Tanya’s summary of the situation, Brandi asked, “What kind of benefits?”
“I can’t have children. My mother forced me to have an abortion when I was about twelve.”
A sudden welling of compassion flooded her soul. “She forced you? Your own mother? And you were pregnant at twelve?”
Tanya’s expression crumbled as a flash of pain leapt into her eyes. “It’s a long story. But it’s one of the reasons I had to finally leave Georgia when I was fourteen. Why I was so happy that Vernon had children, and now…”
Reaching a hand across the table, Brandi grazed Tanya’s arm with a soft, gentle touch. “You can always adopt.”
“I didn’t want to raise a child by myself.”
“Remember, you’re not alone now. You have a…husband for anything that doesn’t require a dick,” Brandi said. They both laughed.
The morning sun splayed brightly onto the linoleum floor. Tanya looked up from the contract. “You know, speaking of dick, people are going to think we’re lesbians.”
“I don’t care what people think anymore,” Brandi replied evenly. “I’ve always followed the rules—now I’m making them.”
Tanya took a few minutes to absorb that. “What about the kids?”
“Wait a minute,” Brandi said, bristling with uneasiness. “What’s with all the sudden backpedaling? Whose side are you on here?”
Tanya, who never liked to be yelled at, blinked back tears. “Theirs. They could be hurt by this.”
Brandi became suddenly still.
“I came here last night because I was angry and pissed off at how everything had changed so quickly,” Tanya said hoarsely. “Never in a million years would I have thought you were serious.”
“I wasn’t.”
Tanya’s lips pursed as she wiped away a single tear.
Brandi lowered her gaze, grinning. “Well, at least not at first. Now I’ve put my mouth out there and I’m not taking ‘I told you so’ from anyone. We’re going to make this work even if it kills us. Unless you’re having second thoughts?”
“Third and fourth,” Tanya said, searching Brandi’s eyes for some sign of malice. “For every practical reason, you should hate me.”
“I don’t hate you. And between you and me, I don’t hate him, either,” she said, sipping from her second cup of coffee. “I’d still like to give him a swift kick in the rubber parts, though.”
Tanya let out a peal of laughter, breaking the tension.
“I have an application I need you to fill out, too.” Brandi reached into the folder and pulled out another sheet.
“A contract and an application?”
“So you can get health and life insurance from The Perfect Fit. I’m taking you out of the database as a client and putting you on the payroll. That way his money’s paying part of your keep. When I get court-ordered maintenance it’ll pay the rest.” Then Brandi’s eyes narrowed. “And another thing…”
Tanya sighed wearily before lifting two fingers to rub her temple.
“During the next six months you’re here, take your ass back to school and get a GED or something.”
Tanya relaxed slowly. “This is too much.”
Brandi became quiet, looking down into her cup. “Did you love him?” She looked up into Tanya’s eyes, waiting.
“Vernon made it very hard to love him. I appreciated the security. He was safe, or at least I thought he was. Truthfully, there’s never been a time in my life that I could open myself up and trust anyone,” Tanya said, her voice just above a whisper. She picked up the application. “Now I’m trusting the one woman on this planet that has no earthly reason to keep me nearby.”
“Proving a point is a powerful motivator.”
“Yes, but it can also hurt more than just Vernon. Did you think about that?”
Brandi took a sip of coffee. “I’m too numb to think, I can only react.”
Those words didn’t sit too well with Tanya. What would happen when the numbness went away and the pain truly kicked in?
♥♥♥
After enduring a nosy old woman’s questions at the currency exchange, the contract was official, with two signatures and a notary. They stopped by Avie’s house to pick up the girls.
Avie’s keen gaze narrowed on Tanya, who stared right back. The lawyer leaned on the driver’s side door, saying, “Brandi, let me talk to you for a minute. Having her in your house will mess up my court case. You’re supposed to be the victim here, not trying to make lemonade out of a sour situation. That’s my job.”
“She stays and that’s final.”
Minutes later, the girls sat on the couch across from the two women in the solarium of their home. Brandi said, “Mommy needs to talk with you about what’s going on, okay?”
Sierra, the younger at ten, looked from Tanya to her mother, then to Simone. The older daughter was dressed in a miniskirt so short even Tanya would think twice about wearing it.
“Tanya’s going to live with us for about…six months or so.” Brandi looked at Tanya for confirmation. “She’s going to take care of things, like keeping the house and getting you girls back and forth to track, gymnastics, and volleyball.”
“We help around here. What do we need her for?” Simone demanded. “You’re always saying you have three dishwashers: Kenmore, Sierra, and Simone.”
“That’s true, pumpkin,” Brandi said, running a hand over Simone’s hair. “But Mommy’s been working a lot and there’s more to it than just loading the dishwasher. You know what I mean?”
Simone eyed Tanya warily. “What about Daddy?”
“Well, um, Daddy’s a little upset about things right now—”
“Why?” Sierra piped in, her soft voice so much like Brandi’s.
“I think he wanted Tanya to live somewhere else, but right now I need the help, okay?”
Simone pulled a pillow from next to her and placed it on her lap. “Are you and Daddy getting a divorce?”
Brandi shook her head. “No, not that. We still love each other. It’s just a little grown-up misunderstanding.”
“A misunderstanding that has to do with his client?” Simone asked, glaring openly at Tanya. Did the little girl know more than they thought? Brandi thought. All she said was, “We’re just working some things out. Don’t you worry about a thing.”
Sierra piped up. “Is Tanya still going to teach us how to bake Red Velvet cake?”
“I’m sure she will. Why don’t you two get your room together and lay out your clothes for school next week.”
When the girls were gone, Tanya let out a long sigh of relief.
Brandi laughed, giving her hand a gentle pat. “Let it go. I’m not going to blast you every time someone makes mention of Vernon. And I’m not blaming you for anything. Unless there’s something you’re not telling me…” Her gaze leveled on Tanya as she waited a few moments. “No? Then it’s a done deal. Our contract will stand no matter what the outcome of my marriage or what happens in your life. If no one else stays true to their word, we, as women should. Deal?”
“Okay, okay,” Tanya said, shaking Brandi’s outstretched hand. “No matter what, we’ll fulfill the terms of the contract.”
“And you can’t keep turning red every time someone makes reference to your relationship with Vernon.”
Brandi was very much at ease with being in control of things, just like Mama Diane, Tanya thought, who had run a household of four girls and three boys with a warmth that had never graced the halls of the Van Oy mansion. The fact that the wheels were still turning even after she had closed in for the kill reminded Tanya of her own mother.
Margaret Van Oy Jaunal, a woman once known for her warm nature and sunny disposition, had become cold and distant by the time Tanya turned ten. The woman wouldn’t stand up for herself even if Gloria Steinem gave her personal instructions. She stayed home to take care of her husband, relishing the fact that a mistake she had made in her teenage years had turned out to be the best mistake of her life.
Wilbur Jaunal actually couldn’t read and write, but he could fake it by talking a good game and keeping only a few people close to him. Margaret Van Oy had spent time in between their romps on the backseat to teach him how. So with the help of his wife, they formed a plan to break down the structure of Social Circle.
When Jaunal became mayor—which he managed by using the manpower of the Black population—he believed that they would be forever grateful that he had favored them with employment over their equally educated white counterparts. He thought he could easily lead and direct Blacks. This thinking almost cost him more than his political office; it almost cost him the main source of his cash flow.
On a dark July night in 1956, an unmasked lynch mob from Jersey killed George and May Murray and Dorsey and Dorothy Malcolm as they crossed the bridge to visit relatives in Social Circle. Several rallies—with walks from Mars Hill Baptist Church all the way to the bridge that spread out over the Apalachee River—had signaled that it was time the killers were brought to justice. Blacks also began to travel in armed groups—knives instead of guns being the weapon of choice. People were liable to give you a deadly ear-to-ear smile than draw a gun and shoot—either way got the same results. Jersey whites gained a different outlook on Blacks from the area, especially when a few of the most racist disappeared with not a fare-thee-well to family or friends.
Years later Wilbur Jaunal’s manipulations tried to bring that rift back to Social Circle. After making sure that Black folk were the majority of the workforce inside Social Circle, he tried to pull a fast one, lowering the pay scale across the board to a few notches above minimum wage.
Michelle Pitchford, Tanya’s best friend, told her that her father had a convenient “accident” on that same day. Because he drove the carpool that brought in four other managers, it shut down the whole business for two days. When the middle-level management walked, the ones under them walked, too. Blacks were not to be taken for granted.
Jaunal reinstated salaries faster than the Social Circle Bridge Club could down a few bottles of plum wine.
Tanya had learned to never underestimate people based on their color. Most of the teachers in Social Circle were Black, which meant the intelligence base in this one small city was all on equal footing, even though Blacks were taught in a church up until 1968 when laws were passed forcing integration. Afterward, Black principals ran all three schools in Social Circle. White children in the area learned early on to respect their intelligence. Well, at least Tanya did. And no one looked at her sideways because her best friend was Black and from the poorer side of town.
Vernon had underestimated Brandi’s intelligence and her ability to change a bad situation into one that worked for her. Vernon had also underestimated Tanya’s willingness to learn from the best.
CHAPTER Eighteen
Vernon parked in front of Jeremy’s house and sat for a moment. How had things come to this? He loved Brandi but wanted Tanya, too, though certainly not on her terms. If he let her dictate, the next thing she’d want was to run the whole damn show. Which was never gonna happen.
Afraid of getting another cold reception with Lissette looking on, he placed a call to Jeremy’s cell, and practically twisted the man’s arm to sneak out of the house to help with the U-Haul rental. Without a driver’s license Venon couldn’t do squat.
Later when they went back to Jeremy’s house on Saturday afternoon to move his car, it was no longer in the driveway. Jeremy’s neighbor was raking the leaves and looked up in time to tell him, “A flatbed came about an hour ago and lugged it away. Mrs. Shipp was standing outside when they did it.”
Damn, Lissette had probably figured out what Jeremy was up to, called Brandi and they cooked that shit up, too!
Jeremy grimaced, taking in the sour expression on his wife’s face. Then he popped Vernon upside the head before turning to walk away from him without a backwards glance.
Vernon pulled up in front of the house in Jackson Park Highlands in the U-Haul. He had waited all morning to get it and now it seemed pointless. He could only hope that his wife’s plan had backfired.
Moments later he knocked. Tanya peeked out, then opened the door, looking better than he could remember. A halter top and a pair of chinos did nothing to hide her curves. The soft scent of Satsuma wafted over him with every shake of her head. His dick stirred and nearly rose to the occasion. Damn, she looked good. Then he came to his senses.
“I came to get my things.”
Brandi appeared beside Tanya, opening the door wide, draping a single arm around Tanya’s shoulders. “They’re right where you left them.”
He watched as Tanya strolled to the kitchen. Brandi’s gaze locked on his, and she winked, acknowledging that she had seen everything. He looked back at his wife and cleared his throat. “I won’t be long.”
“Take all the time you want, dear heart. This is your house, too.” Brandi’s generous mouth stretched into a wide, sexy smile. God, what he wouldn’t give to kiss her. Jesus! What was wrong with him? He could never live in a house with both of them. He’d be hard so often, people would think it was coat rack.
Tanya appeared in the kitchen doorway holding a steaming cup of coffee. The smell assaulted his nose like a criminal making a break for freedom. His empty stomach growled. Vernon hadn’t eaten since Friday afternoon. He’d bounced around from place to place since then and still hadn’t found a place to hole up. Judging by the solid stare and arms folded across her breasts, he knew it would be a while before Brandi came around. He could tough it out. The game was on.
“Why did you lock me out of my house?”
Brandi answered in a perky, cheerleader tone. “Because I want us to be one big happy family.” Then her tone came back to no
rmal. “We can’t do that if you’re living somewhere else, honey.”
Tanya bit her bottom lip and swallowed hard, shoulders shaking slightly. Her eyes, with a twinkle of mischief flashing in them, never left Vernon’s face. Slowly she twisted her wrist, checking her watch before giving it a little tap.
Bitch! Vernon turned to his wife. “You’re lying and I know it.”
Unmoved, Brandi sank down in the wingback chair near the foyer. “Takes one to know one. And I thought you had scooped up the Oscar for that category.”
There was no way in hell to win an argument when she was like this.
An hour later, he’d packed his things in the U-Haul. He turned to face the women now sitting on opposite ends of the sofa. They were watching Lifetime on television. Just what they needed, female rights reinforcement.
As much as he hated to do it, he had to ask, “Have either of you seen my wallet?”
There was a slight hesitation as the women looked at each other and shrugged. “It should still be in your pants.” Brandi grinned and winked. “Unless you’re still having trouble keeping them on.”
“You wiseass.”
She blew him a fake kiss. “Ahhhh, you have such a way with words. See why I married him, Tanya?”
One of them knew where his wallet was. Monday the bank would sort things out, but until then he was strapped.
He turned to Brandi, whose smile had become a smirk. He knew she would refuse his request for cash or one of her cards.
“I’ll cancel the cards on Monday. You might not have access to our accounts then.”
“Oh, no, sweetheart,” she said, blinking innocently, “we have two different numbers on our cards now. I changed them recently. Only yours will be affected.” She winked and grinned so slyly, he wanted to jump across the room and wring her damn neck.
A sudden burst of alarm shot through him. Somehow he knew, just knew, that she had more going on than she let on. Had she already wiped out their accounts? Fuck!
Sierra and Simone filed into the living room. “Daddy!”
Every Woman Needs a Wife Page 12