P. G. County

by Connie Briscoe

  But none of it mattered, anyway, since she couldn’t get up the nerve to call him.

  “What are you doing?”

  She jumped at the sound of Jim’s voice behind her in the bedroom doorway but managed to slip the piece of paper into the little drawer in the nightstand before he entered the room.

  She turned to face him. “Oh, nothing.”

  He stood in front of her with his hands in the pockets of his khakis. “What’s been eating you lately, hon?”

  She hesitated. How much had he seen? “Nothing.”

  “Don’t tell me it’s nothing, Candice,” he said with annoyance. “You’ve been edgy for several days now.”

  She wanted to tell him everything so badly. But she wasn’t ready to do that yet. She wasn’t ready to tell anyone.

  “Is it about Ashley and Kenyatta?” he asked.

  She nearly laughed out loud. If only it were that simple. Ashley and Kenyatta were going full steam, sure enough. But right now her daughter dating a black man was no longer at the top of her list of concerns. What if I told you that your wife is black, Jim? How’s that for something to be worried about?

  “No, it’s not that,” she said. “I’m just tired.”

  He sat next to her on the bed. “I don’t buy that,” he said firmly. “It’s more than that. You’re different somehow. You go to work, then you come home at night and read or watch TV. On weekends you mope around the house all day in your robe and slippers. Or you’re off to the National Archives. Sometimes I see you sitting and staring at nothing. What’s bothering you?”

  Everything, she wanted to shout. Her whole world was spinning upside down, and sometimes it felt like she could barely catch her breath. One night she got up and ran into the bathroom so Jim wouldn’t hear her sobs.

  “I said it was nothing,” she said shortly. “Will you please just get off my back?”

  His face dropped with sadness and he stood up. “OK. Fine. If that’s how you want to be.”

  Boy, she had handled that well. Now she had her husband upset with her. “I’m sorry, Jim,” she said softly.

  He shrugged in defeat and turned back toward the door.

  She stood up. “Jim.”

  He turned back to face her.

  She didn’t want him to be upset with her. “Um. I … I am going through some things now that … that I can’t discuss. Not yet, anyway. I need more time to think about what to do. It’s … it’s complicated.”

  He frowned. “Maybe I can help you decide what to do if you just tell me what the problem is.”

  She paused. He was her husband. If there was something to all this, he had the right to know.

  Or did he? Did anyone have to know besides her?

  “This is something I need to deal with on my own for now,” she said gently. “Try to understand. Please.”

  He looked at her strangely, then nodded. “I’ll be here when you’re ready to talk.”

  He turned and left the room, and she let out a big sigh of relief. Oh hell. Had her behavior changed that much?

  She sat down, opened the drawer and stared at the slip of paper. Look at what this was doing to her and her family. She snatched the sheet of paper and ripped it to shreds. Then she jumped up and threw it in the wastebasket.

  Good-bye. Good riddance. She was going to forget all this ancestry crap and get back to her life as a happily married woman with two beautiful daughters—her life as a white woman.

  Chapter 25

  As usual, they were starting their day with a big fight about the new house. The closer they got to completion, the more they bickered. Jolene was so damn tired of it. Now that she was seeing Bradford Bentley, these arguments were getting harder to take.

  “Damn it, Jolene. You think money grows on trees? We can’t afford a Viking stove. What the hell is wrong with GE? We’ve already maxed out every credit card we have. We’re neck-deep in loans, and we have a daughter to send to college.”

  Jolene flipped her weave. Patrick was shouting so loud she could see the veins in his neck. She thought for a minute that he was going to cut himself with the razor blade he was shaving with. She fastened her black lace bra and slipped her arms into the straps. Then she sat on the bed to put on her panty hose. “Do you have to shout and cuss, dammit?” she snapped. “I’m sitting right here. And Juliette hasn’t left for school yet.”

  “She needs to hear how silly her mother can be when it comes to finances. Because I swear, this shit is getting out of hand. We owe Visa, MasterCard, American Express and Diners Club thousands of dollars.”

  “Oh, chill, Patrick. You’re such a damn tightwad. I don’t want just any old stove in my kitchen. It’s—”

  “For crissakes, Jolene. You don’t even like to cook. And look at this mess.” He threw his razor into the sink and raced from the master bath into the bedroom. He grabbed a pile of bills from the top of his chest of drawers.

  “Do you see these?” he said, lowering his voice only a little. He threw them on the bed beside Jolene. “And in case you’ve forgotten, we’re paying two mortgages until we put this house on the market.”

  Jolene sighed and rolled her eyes to the ceiling.

  “At this rate, we’re going to have combined mortgages of one and a half million at some point. Jeez. One and a half million.”

  She stood and faced him. “Well, have you asked Bradford for a raise yet? Or can you get up the nerve?” She sneered.

  “Even with a raise, we can’t afford to spend this way. Unless he doubles my salary, which he won’t. Why do you always have to be so over the top? We’ll never be like your snooty folks. You need to accept that.”

  She clenched her fists. “You don’t have to be so damn nasty about it. We can’t even talk without you putting me down.”

  “Oh, like you’re being Miss Congeniality. You could win a prize in the nastiness contest for the way you talk to me.” He stomped back into the bathroom and picked up his razor blade. She followed him and stood in the doorway, eyes ablaze.

  “If you weren’t so goddamn cheap, I—”

  “Mama?”

  Jolene froze. She turned toward the bedroom doorway to see Juliette standing there dressed for school except for bare feet. She was holding up one navy blue kneesock.

  “What in the world are you two fighting about now?” Juliette asked, placing her hands on her hips.

  “We’re not fighting,” Jolene said. “We’re just talking.”

  Juliette narrowed her eyes doubtfully. “Yeah, right.”

  “What do you want?” Jolene asked. “And why aren’t you ready for school?”

  “I can’t find my other wool navy sock.”

  “You have more than one pair of navy socks, honey,” Jolene said.

  “All the rest of them are dirty.”

  “Ha,” Patrick snickered as he rinsed his razor blade. “You can thank your mother’s wonderful housekeeping skills for that.”

  Jolene turned a cold eye toward her husband. How dare he talk to her that way in front of Juliette. She wanted to hurl every profanity in the book at him, but she would never stoop so low in front of their daughter. “That was so uncalled for,” she whispered between clenched teeth.

  She led Juliette from their room to help her find a matching pair of socks for school. When she returned to the bedroom, Patrick was sitting on the bed putting on his shoes, and her moment of wanting to curse him out had passed. She had nothing more to say to him.

  They finished dressing in total silence, and Patrick left for work just as she started to put on her makeup. That was fine with her. She was meeting Bradford for lunch that afternoon at the Ritz in Tysons Corner, Virginia, just outside of D.C. And nothing Mister Cheapo said or did could spoil her excitement about that.

  She and Bradford had been meeting at hotels for lunch for almost a month now. Barbara was going down to Virginia this week to visit her aunt, and Bradford was looking into getting them a cozy cabin in the Blue Ridge Mountains for the weekend. For the
first time, Jolene was going to get to spend some real time with Bradford, something besides a lunchtime rendezvous. She didn’t know what she would tell Patrick and she didn’t care either. If Bradford got a place for them to stay over the weekend, nothing would keep her away.

  She smiled as she thought about Bradford. He was quite the romantic. The couple of times she and that asshole Terrence went away together, she did all the planning and paid most of the expenses. Not with Bradford. He arranged every detail and picked up the bill. He was a real man.

  He did say they had to be discreet. That’s why they usually met outside of the city and a good distance away from Silver Lake. Fine. Whatever. Although if it were up to her, they would shout about their affair from the rooftops of Silver Lake. Let the whole damn world know. And the sooner the better. But if he wanted to be discreet, fine. The day to let it out would come.

  In the meantime, she could still fantasize, couldn’t she? Mrs. Jolene Bentley. She giggled. How fantastic did that sound? She had visions of herself lounging around the pool and supervising the help. She would leave her job, of course, and devote herself to Bradford. Juliette would go to the best private schools, and they would take long, luxurious vacations. She would be the envy of every woman in Silver Lake—black, white and every color in between, just as Barbara was now.

  Did she feel any guilt about Barbara? Any pity? She had thought about that for all of five minutes. Hell, no. The woman had her chance and she blew it. Bradford Bentley slept in Barbara’s bed every night, and if she couldn’t hold on to him, that was nobody’s fault but her own.

  Pearl sat her client under the hair dryer and told the receptionist that she was going to duck into her office for a quick lunch break. Then she went into a room at the back of the salon and shut the door. The small office was cluttered with boxes of hair supplies and a desk piled high with paper. There was barely enough room to turn around in, but she loved it back here. It was the only place in the shop where she could take a few minutes to herself and recharge her batteries.

  But more than that, she was surrounded by the fruit of her labor, or maybe the seeds—boxes of shampoo and conditioner, computer printouts and spreadsheets filled with numbers and data about her business, an extra salon chair. It reminded her of how far she had come as a businesswoman.

  She sat at the desk, opened a brown paper bag and removed two pieces of broiled chicken, a salad tossed with olive oil and balsamic vinegar, and a bottle of spring water. This was week three of her low-carb diet. It was all the rage now, and since she had tried every other diet known to womankind she figured she might as well give this one a chance.

  She took a bite of chicken, then picked up a business card and held it in her hand. She had decided to call Patrick Brown after all and agree to make the cakes for his political reception. He worked for Barbara Bentley’s husband and one didn’t take unnecessary chances with a client like Barbara. Clients switched hair salons almost as often as they did hairstyles. Barbara had remained a loyal and generous customer for many years, and Pearl didn’t want to give her any reasons to switch.

  Besides, she liked Patrick and had a feeling he would be pleasant to work with. He had taken the time to send her a small African violet plant with a note asking her to reconsider. The plant fit perfectly in the picture window of her salon, and she suspected he’d put a bit of thought into it.

  And she could always use some extra money.

  She took a sip of water and dialed the number. She didn’t know why she felt so jittery. It wasn’t like she was calling to ask him out on a date. He was only a man and this was a business call.

  A receptionist answered and she asked for Patrick.

  “Hello?” came a male voice.

  “Patrick Brown, please.”

  “This is Patrick Brown.”

  “Hi. It’s Pearl Jackson. I got the plant. That was very thoughtful of you.”

  “I’m glad you liked it and I’m also glad you called. Does this mean you’ve reconsidered?”

  “Yes, actually. You’re a friend of Barbara Bentley’s, and she’s one of my best clients. And you need it for a good cause, so I’m open to doing it if we can agree on the terms.”

  “That sounds fair enough,” he said, obviously pleased. “I have a contract that I use for this kind of thing. Do you have a fax?”

  “No, I’m afraid not,” she said with a little embarrassment. “I’m hopelessly out of date. Been meaning to get one for the longest time.”

  “Don’t worry about that,” he said sympathetically. “I can mail it to you, but I’d rather bring it over myself to get things moving. The reception is in about two weeks, so I’m in a big hurry.”

  “Two weeks?” she said with surprise. “You’re right. That will be a bit of a rush.”

  “Will that be enough time for you?” He sounded worried.

  “Yes, yes,” she assured him. “I should be able to manage.”

  “So how about meeting for lunch? Is there a restaurant nearby that you like?”

  “To tell you the truth, I usually grab a bite at my desk here. I hardly ever have the time to get out for lunch. Maybe once a week, if that.”

  “Well, which day will that be this week?” he asked.

  Pearl chuckled. “You’re persistent.”

  “When there’s something I want, yes.”

  “I see,” Pearl said. “OK. Hold on while I get my appointment book.” Pearl stepped out to the receptionist’s desk and grabbed her schedule. “This week is so full,” she mumbled as she flipped the pages. “How about Friday?”

  “That works for me. At noon?”

  “I have a client coming on her lunch hour. But I can do it at one. Make it one-thirty. Do you like Italian?”

  “It’s my favorite.”

  “Good,” she said. “There’s a small place nearby that makes great pasta.”

  “I’ll see you then.” Pearl hung up and let out a deep breath of air. Only then did she realize how nervous she was the whole time she was talking to Patrick. What was the matter with her? He was married, and to Jolene Brown at that. And this was business. She kept repeating that to herself as she tidied up after lunch and called her next client.

  Bradford rolled off of Jolene. “Oh, baby. That was fantastic,” he said between deep gulps of air.

  Jolene laughed in agreement. “The best.”

  As soon as her breathing slowed a bit, she propped up the pillows, leaned back and closed her eyes. This being a world-class hotel, there were six luscious pillows to snuggle into.

  This was the happiest time of her life. No question about it. Bradford Bentley rocked her world. He could be as wild as a tiger one minute and gentle as a kitten the next. And the man had so much class.

  She was madly in love. Plain and simple. Hell, if she had her way they’d both dump their spouses and head to Vegas for a quick marriage right this very minute.

  But he hadn’t told her how he felt about her yet. And a man like Bradford could not be rushed. He had to take the lead, or at least think he was taking the lead. He had to tell her how he felt first. So she would have to be patient and play a perfect game if she wanted the big prize.

  Bradford sat up and kissed her palm. She loved it when he did that. It sent tingles all up and down her spine.

  “I’m glad we finally found each other,” he whispered in her ear.

  “So am I,” she said softly. She loved the way he said sweet things like that. If only he would say the magic three words.

  “I mean it. I had my eye on you for a while, but seeing as you were with Patrick, I didn’t think I should interfere. So—”

  “I had my eye on you, too, but you have Barbara.”

  “Well, if I had known we would click like this, I would have made a move a lot sooner.”

  Jolene snuggled closer to him. She loved the way he smelled. “Better late than never, I always say.”

  “Right you are. Wait there just a minute.” He picked up his suit jacket from the back of
a chair and fumbled around inside until he came up with a long rectangular navy box from Bailey Banks & Biddle.

  She gasped before he even handed it to her and sat up excitedly. “For me?”

  He got back in bed and leaned up on one elbow. “Go ahead. Open it.”

  She giggled as she lifted the jewelry case out and flipped the top. It was a white gold and sapphire bracelet. She placed her hand on her bare breast. “Oh, Bradford. It’s beautiful.”

  “You like it?”

  “I love it.” She spread kisses all over his face. Then she lifted the bracelet and draped it around her wrist. She held it up to the light. Without a doubt, it had to be the most expensive piece of jewelry she’d ever worn. She would have preferred an “I love you” from him, but if this was the way he expressed his feelings, she could live with it. “It’s gorgeous, Bradford. Fabulous.”

  “I’m glad you like it.”

  She rested her head on his shoulder. She loved the way he smelled even more now. “Bradford, there’s something I’ve been wanting to say to you but—”

  “What is it?” he asked as he draped an arm around her.

  Should she? The feeling was so strong it felt like it would burst out of her chest if she didn’t release it.

  “I’m falling in love with you.”

  He sat up so abruptly her head fell off his shoulder.

  Uh-oh. She’d made a big fool of herself. Fuck. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Sorry.” She moved away from him and stared straight ahead.

  “You’re not scaring me. I’m just surprised. I’m … I’m flattered, actually. Um, I think I’m falling for you, too.”

  “Really?” Jolene almost gulped. She couldn’t believe her ears. He had said the magic words. Almost.

  They slipped back down under the covers, and when they came up an hour later, Jolene thought she would die with happiness. She couldn’t wait until Barbara went away, and they would finally get to spend some real time together.

  “Where will we be going for the weekend?” she asked from the bathroom as they both dressed to get back to the office.

  “Going?” Bradford asked from the bedroom.

  Jolene stopped in the middle of putting on her lipstick and walked back into the bedroom. Had he forgotten already? “I thought you were going to get us a cabin in the mountains since Barbara’s going down to Virginia to visit her aunt and uncle.”