The Million Dollar Divorce

by RM Johnson

  When Nate got to work that morning, the first thing he did was call Lewis.

  “I need you to meet me at Taylor’s, one P.M.,” Nate said, when Lewis answered the phone.

  “Mr. Kenny, I—”

  “I don’t remember asking you to say a word,” Nate said, feeling extreme anger toward the boy and not knowing why. “Just meet me at Taylor’s, like I said, at one.”

  The bartender brought the drink to Nate’s table, set it down on a napkin in front of him. Nate dropped a ten-dollar bill on the woman’s tray.

  “Keep it,” he said.

  Just then the door of the bar opened. Nate saw that it was Lewis. He raised his hand and waved the boy over.

  “How you doing, Mr. Kenny?” the boy said, extending a hand, that Nate did not shake.

  “Sit down.”

  He did, and Nate eyed him closely. He was wearing a suit, a nice suit. Obviously one that Nate’s money had bought him.

  “Do you want something to drink?”

  “No sir.”

  Nate stirred the cubes around in his glass with a pink plastic stirrer, still eyeing Lewis intensely. He raised the glass to his lips and took a drink.

  “You enjoying your new life, Lewis?”

  “Sir?”

  “Are you comfortable? Do the new house and car suit you?”

  “Yes, Mr. Kenny.”

  The boy’s hair was different, as well. He had taken Nate’s advice, went out and got a haircut. He looked like a different man. If Nate hadn’t known better, hadn’t seen the boy for who he truly was, a loser, a homeless thug, he probably would’ve been deceived by this façade as well. This front that his wife was probably deceived by, this lie that Nate had created.

  “Did you fuck my wife last night?” Nate said, blatantly.

  “Sir?”

  “Just answer the question. Did you fuck her!”

  “No, Mr. Kenny. I wouldn’t—”

  “Did you try?”

  “Mr. Kenny—”

  “I said, did you try?”

  The boy looked Nate in the eyes, lowered his head, then looked back up again. “No, Mr. Kenny. I didn’t try. All we did was go out to see The Lion King last night.”

  “And why didn’t you tell me this? We spoke yesterday afternoon. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because I didn’t think you’d want to know every little detail that was going on.”

  Nate tossed his head back, let out a fake chuckle and smile, then returned his hard stare back to Lewis. “I saved you from the streets. I gave you a new home, clothes, money, a job that pays five thousand dollars a week. I don’t care if you don’t think I want to hear every little detail, you tell me anyway. As a matter of fact,” Nate said, leaning onto the table, “don’t think at all. From now on, you tell me everything that you’re planning, before you do it. And you definitely let me know before you try to sleep with my wife. Do you understand that?”

  “Yes, Mr. Kenny,” Lewis said.

  “Because if you don’t, I would hate to see you back on the streets, or even worse, in prison.”

  38

  Lewis sat in his Cadillac. He watched as Mr. Kenny drove his car out of the Taylor’s Bar parking lot. The man shot him an evil glance just before making a left out onto the street and driving away.

  Either Lewis was crazy or Mr. Kenny didn’t like him. And maybe dislike wasn’t even the best way of putting it. It seemed to Lewis, by the way Mr. Kenny was looking at him in the bar, that the man seemed to hate Lewis.

  Exactly what did he do? Lewis asked himself. The man was paying him to try to get in his wife’s panties, and now he’s all pissed off because he thinks he did just that.

  No. He wasn’t exactly telling Mr. Kenny the truth when he said he hadn’t tried to sleep with Monica, but the bottom line was, he hadn’t.

  Lewis stayed up well into the night trying to figure that one out. He had the woman on his bed, damn near butt naked; the only thing stopping him sliding inside her was a thin, saturated piece of panty material.

  He had her right where he wanted her, and she was wanting him too, he could feel it, then all of a sudden…

  Lewis ran the scenario over and over again in his head, and could come up with nothing that made sense, other than that she was married, and her conscience started getting to her.

  Lewis slipped his key into the car’s ignition and turned the engine over.

  If she only knew the type of man she was married to, Lewis thought, she wouldn’t have been troubling herself so much with trying to remain faithful to him.

  And then that man tried to threaten Lewis just moments ago in the bar, by taking away everything that he had given Lewis. He knew it wasn’t his, but Lewis didn’t like the way Mr. Kenny was hanging it over his head, trying to punk him with it, even suggesting that he would still try to have Lewis put in jail.

  He was a nasty man. He didn’t deserve the woman that he was plotting so hard to get rid of.

  Lewis could make it much easier for him to shake Monica, he thought. He could just go to her, spill everything about what her husband had been planning, and then it would be over.

  But then where would that leave Lewis? There would be no more house, no suits, no money, no more Mr. Real Estate Developer. And considering that’s the man that Monica thought Lewis was, there wouldn’t be any more Monica either. Lewis definitely didn’t want that, because he hated to admit it to himself, but he was taking a liking to the woman.

  It was foolish, he knew, because regardless of how this entire thing ended, once she found out who he was, she would lose whatever interest, if any, she had in him.

  Lewis threw the truck in gear and was about to drive off when his cell phone rang.

  “This is Lewis,” he said.

  “Hello,” a small voice answered back.

  “Yes.”

  There was a pause, then, “This is Monica.”

  “Oh, hi Monica,” Lewis said. “I’m glad you called.”

  “I want to talk about last night.”

  “Okay.”

  “Not now. Not on the phone.”

  “Okay, then where do you want to meet?” Lewis asked.

  “You’re place will be fine, if that’s all right with you. Will you be finished with work by then?”

  “Uh, yeah. Work will be done by then.”

  “So after you get off. Around five-thirty P.M., six?”

  “Yeah. I’ll see you then.”

  When the bell rang some hours later, it was Monica standing outside Lewis’s door. He opened it.

  “Hey,” he said, staring out at her.

  “Hey.”

  Lewis just stood there, marveling at how beautiful she was, surprised that she had even called him back.

  “Are you going to invite me in?” Monica said.

  “Oh,” Lewis said, practically jumping to one side. “I’m sorry. I was thinking about something,” he said, as she walked past him into his living room.

  “Probably about my behavior last night. I’m sorry about that.”

  “No need to be. I shouldn’t have taken you up to my room.”

  “You didn’t take me,” Monica said, moving one step toward him. “I asked to go up there, just like I asked to come back here last night. Remember?”

  Lewis nodded. “But I’m saying I’m sorry, anyway. If I didn’t ever ask you out to that show, none of last night would’ve ever happened.”

  “There’s no need for you to be sorry. I enjoyed The Lion King. I enjoyed last night too,” Monica said, her voice much lower when she spoke those last words.

  Lewis didn’t know just what was happening. Last night, the woman freaked out, practically ran out of his house with her panties in her arms, and now he thought she just said she had a good time.

  “Oh, okay,” Lewis said.

  “So…,” Monica said.

  “So?” Lewis said back, swinging his arms at his sides a little, as if waiting for something to happen.

  “Well, that�
�s all I really came over here to say.”

  “Okay,” Lewis said, but he asked himself, why would she do that, when she could’ve just told him that stuff over the phone?

  Monica walked slowly toward the door, Lewis walking behind her.

  Was he supposed to say something? Should he make a move? He really didn’t know, especially after last night.

  Then he wasn’t sure if he wanted to risk his new job by making another move too soon. Besides, wasn’t he supposed to alert Mr. Kenny if he even thought about trying something with her again?

  “Well, I guess I’ll be seeing you around,” Monica said, turning to face Lewis. She was standing in front of the door, making it hard for him to open it. After he finally maneuvered himself around her, and had it open, she stood there just inside the house, just looking up at him oddly.

  “Yeah, I guess I’ll see you,” Lewis said back.

  “Okay,” Monica said, finality in her voice. “I’ll see you.”

  She turned, but Lewis knew he didn’t want her to go.

  “Monica.”

  “Hunh?” she said, turning around, standing just in front of him.

  The hell with it, Lewis thought. “Would you mind if I—”

  And before he could finish his sentence, Monica had thrown her arms around him, and had pushed her lips into his.

  They kissed, long and passionately, Monica’s hands rubbing all over Lewis’s back as she continued to deeply kiss him.

  Lewis thought he heard Monica trying to say something to him.

  “What?” he said, still kissing her.

  “I said, take me inside.”

  Lewis slowly pulled away from her, looking her seriously in the eyes. “We tried that last night, and look what happened.”

  “That was last night.”

  “What changed your mind?”

  “I have my reasons,” Monica said, offering nothing else.

  “I don’t think you’re serious.”

  “Take me back upstairs, and you’ll see how serious I am.”

  There was nothing else to say. Lewis grabbed her hand and headed for the stairs.

  39

  So Lewis had sex with Monica, and during that act, she didn’t all of a sudden jump up in bed, dive to the floor for her panties, and start screaming about how she had to get out of there, as he had thought she would.

  They had sex for almost an hour, Lewis wanting to take as much time as he could to enjoy her, and give her as much pleasure as possible. He believed he accomplished that by the serene look on her face as she lay on her back afterward.

  He was surprised she hadn’t gotten up, kissed him on the cheek, telling him she had to get back to her husband, but instead relaxed beside him, as if she had all the time in the world.

  Lewis rolled up on his elbow, stroking her hair, gazing at her.

  Monica turned her head slightly to catch him staring. “So, was that serious enough for you?”

  “As a heart attack. And you know, you almost gave me one.”

  “Yeah, right.” Monica laughed, then turned, gazed back up at the ceiling. “I really needed that. Thank you.”

  “Thank you,” Lewis said back.

  Monica turned again, looked at Lewis. “You’re wondering why I did this, when I was always going on about how I’m married.”

  “No. I wasn’t wondering that. It’s your decision.”

  “My husband wasn’t treating me right, was treating me badly. He acts as though he doesn’t even love me anymore. He just stopped acknowledging me. Made me feel as though I was worthless, as though I wasn’t attractive. So I had to do this for me.”

  “Do you regret it?”

  “No,” Monica answered quickly. “It was my decision and I made it. I’ll probably even tell him about it one day, if it ever comes up.”

  Lewis had to damn near bite his tongue to stop himself from saying something about the prenuptial she had with her husband, and why would she risk what was coming to her for the sake of honesty.

  “So, does that mean I’ll see you again?”

  Monica looked to be giving it some thought, then said, “I don’t know.”

  Lewis was disappointed, but the following day he received a phone call from Monica, wondering what he was doing later that day.

  “Nothing,” he said, a wide smile on his face.

  “Can I see you?”

  “Of course.”

  This went on for the next three evenings, making it five days in a row that he had seen her, and each day he made love to her. Each day they lay in bed afterward, laughing, kissing, and playing.

  One of those days, Lewis held Monica in his arms and asked her, “Do you ever wonder?”

  “Wonder what?”

  “Wonder if the people that we’re with now are the ones we’re supposed to be with forever.”

  “I don’t know,” Monica said, thinking on the question for a moment. “I believe that everything happens for a reason, and we’ll ultimately end up with who we’re supposed to be with.”

  “Do you think that person could be me?”

  Monica rolled off Lewis so she could look him in the eyes. “I’m married, Lewis.”

  “I know that. I mean, if you weren’t married. If I met you before he did, could I have been the person for you?”

  Monica smiled, leaned in, and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. “Yes, Lewis. You definitely could’ve been that person.”

  Each of those days he had spent with Monica, he had also spoken to Mr. Kenny, but hadn’t once told him that he was having sex with his wife.

  When Mr. Kenny asked Lewis if he was close—did any opportunities present themselves?—Lewis told him no, and to Lewis’s surprise, Mr. Kenny didn’t sound too disappointed by that, which was a good thing.

  Lewis wanted this situation to last as long as it could, because he would’ve been a fool not to acknowledge the fact that he was enjoying himself. He had never lived like that, never enjoyed the material things he possessed now, but most of all, never spent time with a woman like Monica.

  Yes, he had beautiful women before, but none so caring or intelligent as her. Just being around her made him feel smarter, like a better person, so unlike being around Selena, which made him feel less than he really was.

  And then there wasn’t the negativity that Selena always carried around her. There was always some dark cloud hovering over her head. The world was always coming to an end with her, and that weighed on Lewis. It exhausted him many times, when he didn’t even want to have a conversation with her because he knew, afterward, he would feel depressed.

  With Monica, every time he spoke to her, he felt uplifted. He definitely wanted this to last.

  The day after the fifth time he saw Monica, Lewis was supposed to go to Selena’s to pick up his daughter.

  When Lewis arrived that Saturday afternoon the apartment was cleaner than he had ever seen it.

  Selena had Layla all clothed, a baby bag packed and sitting beside her on the sofa, ready to go.

  Lewis leaned in and gave Selena a kiss hello on the cheek, but he noticed something didn’t seem right with her. She seemed agitated, unsettled.

  “Is everything okay, Selena?”

  “Everything is fine, but I think I’m going to need a little money. You think you got that?”

  “Why?” Lewis said, shouldering the baby bag. “I just gave you four hundred last week. What the hell you doing with it?”

  “Things cost. The baby was sick. I had to buy the pink stuff, and other expenses came up.”

  “You ain’t working no more?” Lewis said, using the term very lightly.

  Selena looked as though she didn’t appreciate the comment. “I only did that ’cause I had to. It ain’t like I enjoyed it.”

  “You could’ve fooled me.”

  “I don’t want to argue with you, Lewis. I just really need some money.”

  She looked pathetic there standing in front of him, Lewis thought. She appeared beaten, worn, as though
she had been up for hours, and he wondered why he had ever been with this woman to begin with.

  He pulled out his wallet, pulled out a hundred dollars in twenty-dollar bills, and handed it to her.

  “Thank you, baby,” Selena said, leaning in with a kiss directed toward his lips.

  Lewis turned his face and received the kiss on his cheek.

  “I’ll bring her back this evening, okay?”

  “Okay, but don’t be too long.”

  When Lewis got to his place, he gently lifted Layla out of the car seat he had bought for her a couple of days ago, when Selena said it would be all right to take her.

  He walked her toward the house, excited.

  “I got something to show you,” Lewis said, unlocking the door and walking in.

  He walked slowly through the house, giving his daughter a tour.

  “Here’s the fireplace,” he said, walking through the living room. “We got a chandelier up there, see it,” he said, once they were in the dining room. And when he walked her into the kitchen, Lewis said, “We even have a dishwasher, so when the dishes get dirty, we don’t have to let them all pile up in the sink, and sit for days like Mommy does.” Lewis laughed at his remark, and his daughter laughed as well, as if she knew what he had said.

  “But that’s not what I really wanted to show you. I got something special for you.” They headed upstairs.

  He made a left in the hallway, instead of the right he normally made, leading to his room. He pushed open the door that led them into another bedroom, and there sitting in the middle of that room was a brand-new, top-of-the-line baby’s crib, a huge red bow tied to it.

  “Look at that!” Lewis said, standing in front of it with his child, admiring it like it was a brand-new car. “How do you like that?”

  He carried Layla over to it, and set her down in it.

  “What do you think? It has an extra comfort mattress. Can you feel that?” he said, reaching in and pressing down on it himself.

  Layla responded with a number of “goo’s” and “gah’s,” smiled, and rolled around on her back.

  “You like that, don’t you?” Lewis was smiling, watching his child, but then the smile disappeared from his face. “You shouldn’t have to live the way you’re living, baby. Your moms shouldn’t be neglecting you like she’s doing, exposing you to things you’re seeing,” Lewis said, picking her up out of the crib and taking her in his arms. “But I’m gonna make sure that don’t last too much longer. And it won’t be this one,” Lewis said, walking Layla toward his bedroom. “But we’re gonna get us a nice place, and I’m going to bring your crib, and we’re gonna live the way we supposed to. I’m promising you that, baby,” Lewis said, sitting on the edge of his bed, staring into his daughter’s big round eyes. “I promise you.”