The house would be great for entertaining, William knew, as he envisioned the many political meetings and social engagements they would have. As for the vehicle, it wasn’t new, but it looked good. He had insisted on keeping the Protégé, though. It was the first big purchase he and Nikki had made together and it meant a lot to them.
He would hire a couple of people to help him run his computer business. That way, his business could grow while he focused on the campaign. Now that he didn’t have the pressure of the monstrous mortgage, William could have a little breathing room. He would use the money he had been directing to the mortgage to now pay a couple of part-time employees.
I told Nikki we would be all right. We’ve suddenly moved on up like the Jeffersons, William mused, humming a few bars from the old television show.
“Who is William Broussard, indeed?” he chuckled at the question the newspaper had posed. “Just wait till they find out.”
His eye caught sight of something else on the page. He squinted and peered closer. Photo by Nikki Broussard. What is this? He frowned as he read the story that accompanied the photo, about a big-rig that crashed into an SUV, sending a woman and child to the hospital and killing the driver of the rig.
“Nikki didn’t even say anything about this,” William muttered, jabbing his finger at the photo. “But I know she’s not trying to start working again. We’ve already settled that.”
Before he could call Nikki, his cell phone rang. William did not recognize the number but answered anyway. “Hello?”
“So, are you ready to get your rear end kicked?”
The voice was unmistakable. It was Spencer.
“How’d you get this number?” William demanded.
“You must have forgotten. You’re a political candidate now. I can get any information on you I want.”
“Well, there is really nothing to get on me, so I’m not concerned. And to answer your question, the only kicking that’ll be going on is the thrashing you’ll get on Election Day.” William hung up. Excitement coursed through him, but so did trepidation.
“What have I gotten myself into?”
Chapter 30
The doorbell rang and Nikki quickly put down the apple pie she had just removed from the oven, its scent of cinnamon and spices wafting throughout the house. She dusted a bit of flour from her chin with the back of her hand, and wiped her palms on a dish towel as she crossed the expanse that was the living room of her new home. The move from the old house had been quick, as Olivia and Reverend Hicks insisted on removing all vestiges of a struggling middle class family from William. Now, they lived in an expensive Southeast Shreveport home.
“Who is it?” Nikki called.
“Trudy McWilliams.”
Trudy McWilliams? “Who?”
“It’s Trudy, dear,” the voice called. “Please open the door so I do not have to continue standing out here.”
Who is Trudy? Nikki wondered. She opened the door and her eyes widened. Oh. Trudy. Trudy McWilliams was among the city’s black social elite and often appeared in the newspaper. She stepped into the living room, unbidden, her expensive perfume softly tickling Nikki’s nose, as her pearl earrings and upswept hair drew attention to a long, elegant neck. Trudy’s posture was perfect and her dress impeccable, as she checked out the newly decorated house Nikki and William had moved into only days before. Trudy’s eyes trailed over the furnishings.
“Not a bad start,” she said, a slight frown creasing her brow. “Before long though, we will need to replace that couch with this season’s version.”
“Pardon?”
Trudy turned. “Olivia asked me to stop by your home to help refine your tastes and to groom you, as you’ll now be traveling in some very prestigious circles,” Trudy said, again looking around. “I see we’re going to have our work cut out for us.”
“Oh . . . I. . . .” Nikki said, flustered. “We just moved in. We’re still working, though I thought the decorating project was coming along nicely.”
William had told Nikki that Reverend Hicks had a friend who needed a sitter for this Victorian-style house with its pitched roofs and high ceilings. Some of the furnishings belonged to the owners, but Nikki had redecorated the living room. She had brought in a contemporary vanilla leather love seat and couch set, and had placed an Oriental rug in front of the couch, flanking it on both sides with lamps. She created an intimate setting in the large space.
“Well, I’m sure you did your best,” Trudy said. She held out her gloved hand. “My throat is parched, dear.”
Nikki snapped into action, her mind whirling. Olivia sent Trudy? But why? I have taste and I know how to act in public. I don’t need some high-class tutor, she thought to herself. Nikki immediately moved to the kitchen. She turned to face the woman again, though. “Oh, forgive my manners,” she said. “Please, have a seat. Would you like sweet tea?”
Trudy’s brows shot up ever so slightly. “Sweet tea? Do you have any hot tea? Any golden needle perhaps?”
“Oh, I can make it hot,” Nikki said, smiling. “That’s not a problem. What’s golden needle?”
“It’s a black tea.”
“Oh, yeah, I have black tea right here,” Nikki said, pulling the bags out of the cabinet.
Trudy looked aghast. “No, darling, surely you’re not referring to those supermarket tea bags? The tea I’m interested in costs at least $80 an ounce, not ninety-nine cents for a whole box.”
Nikki gulped. “Oh . . . I . . .” she looked at the tea box in her hand, embarrassed. “I’m sorry. I don’t have anything like that.”
Trudy sighed and fanned her face. “Oh my,” she said. “We must get started quickly on your refinement. I’ll pass on the tea. Do you have any scones and a bit of marmalade or spread?”
Nikki squirmed. “I don’t. But I do have apple pie I just made.”
Trudy pursed her lips but nodded. “Very well. I’ll take a bit of the pie.”
Trudy insisted Nikki have a spa date with her the following afternoon. Nikki didn’t want to go, but she knew William wouldn’t like it if she alienated these new people who were prying into her life, so she arranged for Keedra to baby-sit Psalm after school.
“I can’t do anything to jeopardize my husband’s new career,” Nikki reminded herself. It didn’t matter if she preferred an afternoon at home so she could work on her thesis for her final degree requirements. Nor did it matter if she wanted to spend time helping Psalm with her kindergarten assignment, now that the girl was in school. Nikki needed to get out there and start mixing and mingling with Trudy and her friends.
As she stood on the steps of the spa the next day, Nikki had to admit that some of the high life wasn’t so bad. This was her first-ever spa visit. She strode into the foyer and was immediately met by a smiling attendant.
“Good afternoon,” the lady said, gesturing for Nikki to follow her. She seemed to know who Nikki was, even without an introduction. “Mrs. Broussard, please come this way.”
The woman led Nikki into a back room with reclining seats. “Please wait right here. Make yourself comfortable.”
Nikki received a little jolt at the personal attention, and sneaked a peek around. The green and white colors seemed to spell serenity and the plush furnishings bespoke the luxury of the moment. “Has Mrs. McWilliams arrived?”
“She telephoned just before your arrival to say she is running a tad late, but she will be here shortly.”
Nikki sighed with relief, glad it was McWilliams who was late. The attendant left Nikki and her stomach immediately rumbled loudly. She tried to suck her midsection in to squelch the sound, thankful she was alone.
She sat in the soft chair to wait for Trudy, but her stomach squealed again. Nikki rummaged around in her purse for gum, candy, anything. Her eyes fell on a bowl of cucumber slices and a basin of water with lemons. “Oh, they have refreshments,” she said and walked over to the bowl. “People with money are so weird. Who wants to just eat a bowl of cucumbers? And where ar
e the napkins and forks?” The hunger pangs reminded her that she didn’t care about napkins right now.
Nikki didn’t want anyone to see her dig into the bowl with her fingers so she quickly glanced around to make sure no one was coming, and then fished a few cucumber slices out of the bowl. She said a hasty grace and stuck them in her mouth. The cool crispness felt good on her tongue.
She stood over the bowl, eating a few more. She was chewing a slice when the attendant and Trudy stepped into the room. “Good afternoon, Nikki,” Trudy said, eyeing the bowl of cucumbers.
“Hi,” Nikki said, swallowing the last bit and moving away from the bowl.
“When are you going to do something about that nappy head?” Trudy whispered when the attendant showed them to their changing area.
Another attendant placed cucumber slices on the eyes of a woman reclining in a robe on a plush seat. Nikki gulped in embarrassment. So that’s what those cucumber pieces were for, she realized.
“Did you hear what I said?” Trudy repeated.
“Huh?” Nikki drew her attention back to Trudy.
“Your hair. When are you going to do something about that nappy head of yours?”
“What do you mean?” Nikki touched her natural hair, which was pulled back into a puffy ponytail.
Trudy rolled her eyes. “Surely, you can’t expect to walk around looking like a pickaninny.”
“Pickaninny?” Nikki was offended.
Trudy waved off the protest. “Spare me the righteous indignation,” she said. “I know you think you’re being vogue by going ‘natural’ but the nappy hair has got to go. You’re going to have to get a perm in that head of yours. Surely you don’t want to be photographed looking like some little refugee child?”
Nikki’s back stiffened. “I don’t believe I look like anyone’s refugee,” she told the older black woman stiffly. Her mother hadn’t liked when Nikki began wearing her hair natural five years before, and even Danielle had disliked the look. But Nikki had insisted on the natural look. At the time, she had done it because she detested spending all day in a beauty shop and it was a bit of a financial decision as she couldn’t afford to have regular beauty appointments after she got married. Besides, Nikki thought she was cute with natural hair. She cut her eyes at Trudy.
“Well, be that as it may,” Trudy said, “we must do something about that head. I can understand your affinity for Mother Africa or whatever, but you’ve got to look at the big picture. What you look like is quite important to this campaign. And do you want to help your husband or hinder him?”
“I want to help him, of course.”
“Then you’ll need to get rid of that hair,” Trudy said. “This campaign is not about what you want. It’s about what will get your husband elected. And if that means sacrificing a bit of yourself, then you’ll need to do that.”
Nikki looked down at her hands. Sacrificing for her husband was nothing new. She nodded. This was yet another piece of herself she had to give up.
Nikki picked up Psalm from Keedra’s later that evening and took her to the campaign office. She let the child play in a corner, while Nikki designed posters, flyers and yard signs on the computer. Olivia would take them to be printed the next day.
The office was abuzz with activity. Some of Oliver Chance’s volunteers had stayed on and the small office had an air of purpose.
“We may be small and few in number, but we are going to do this!” William said, rallying his troops.
“Yeah!” a volunteer yelled. Another clapped.
Nikki looked up from her work and smiled. Reverend Hicks had promised to help raise funds and to send his church members to vote for William, but Nikki knew pulling off this campaign in so short a time frame would still be difficult. William’s days were even longer than when he worked on Reverend Chance’s campaign. And now, Nikki found herself at the campaign office often.
The volunteers started leaving one by one around 10:00 P.M., until only Nikki, William and Olivia remained. Olivia and William were hunched over a table, scouring a city map and planning strategy.
Nikki rose from her seat to take a stretch. Psalm was playing with a doll, but Nikki could tell the child was sleepy. She stretched and walked to William. “Baby, it’s getting late.” Nikki rubbed his back.
William looked up. “Huh?”
Nikki smiled. William could be so one-track. “The time. It’s after eleven,” she said. “Psalm is getting antsy. She has school tomorrow.”
“Baby, we just have a few more things to discuss,” William said, looking at Olivia, who held no expression.
“I know, sweetie, but you’ll stay out here all night if I let you,” Nikki said. “Everybody else is gone. I know we have a lot of work to do on this campaign, but we also have a life.”
“Baby, this campaign is my life right now,” William said.
“William, we really have a lot of work to do,” Olivia said quietly.
“William, it’s almost midnight,” Nikki said. “I’m tired. Psalm is tired.”
“Oh, well, you don’t have to stay. That’s one of the good things about having two cars now. Why don’t you go on home? I’ll finish this up with Olivia and be right there.”
“I was thinking we could all go home,” Nikki insisted.
Olivia stood and smoothed her charcoal skirt over her round hips. “Well, maybe your wife is right. Maybe we are putting too much time into this campaign. All the volunteers have left. We can pick up tomorrow. I guess just because we got a late start and have to play catch up is no reason for us to work so hard, huh?”
William held up his hand. “Wait, Olivia, don’t go,” he said. He turned to his wife. “Baby, Olivia is right. We are in a race against time.”
Nikki’s shoulders slumped. “Okay, baby,” she said. “Fine. But I’ll wait around with you. We’ll stay for a while longer.”
Chapter 31
Danielle sat in a tub filled with jasmine-scented bubbles, with lavender candles lining the edge. She leaned her head on the pillow and breathed deeply. “You’ve got to stay calm,” she told herself as she felt the warm water swirl around her body.
It seemed that her supervising nurse was out to get her. Just today, the woman had tried to test Danielle’s knowledge by asking her random questions about medications and their dosages.
“Like she’s trying to give me a pop quiz or something. But she’s not going to get me. She thinks she’s slick, trying to make me look dumb. But I’m smarter than all of them.” Danielle spoke the words aloud.
The pop quiz had been interrupted by Peggy, the downstairs receptionist, who paged Danielle over the loudspeaker. “Danielle Esperanza, you have a visitor in the first floor lobby.”
Danielle flashed a quick smile at her supervising nurse. “Well, I have to go downstairs.” She turned to leave. “And for the record, I do know how to do my job.”
Danielle grabbed her stack of papers and found the elevator. When she stepped off, she was surprised to find Troy waiting at the front desk.
“Hey, baby,” he said, kissing her cheek. “Brought you something.”
Their relationship seemed to be going smoothly. Troy still hadn’t made good on his promise to go to church with her, but no more strange women were calling her number.
Troy held out a white bag from her favorite deli. She took it and looked inside, smiling when she saw a Philly cheese steak sandwich, fries and cookies. “Thanks, baby.” She gave him a quick peck on the lips.
“Anything for my soon-to-be wife,” Troy grinned. He stayed for a moment longer, and they chatted. “Hey, I’ve got to get back to work.”
“Okay, well, I’ll see you when I get off, baby,” Danielle purred. She tiptoed and kissed him on the lips. A few heads turned, and a nurse standing nearby frowned. Danielle didn’t care if any of those people saw her kissing her man. They’re just jealous, she thought with a touch of defiance.
“Bye, baby,” Troy had waved as he walked toward the exit.
He had been doing lots of nice things lately, but Danielle couldn’t get the notion out of her mind that something wasn’t right. She felt he was cheating on her. She vowed that if she caught him, it would be over.
The memory of that afternoon produced mixed emotions as Danielle now sat in the tub. She tried to use the breathing exercises a counselor had once taught her. She knew she would break out in hives if she continued to let the stress control her. The feelings began to rise in her chest, crushing her breathing, causing her breath to come out in sharp, jagged thrusts as the room started to spin. One . . . two.... Pant, pant. Three . . . Four.... Pant, pant.... Five . . . I can’t breathe!
She flailed about and splashed out of the tub, dripping water all over the carpet. She fanned her hands in front of her face, but the breathing kept coming in sharp, shallow bursts. Danielle grabbed on to the edge of the counter with soapy hands, trying to steady herself. It took a few seconds, but the room slowly stopped spinning. Her breathing began to slow down and she realized she was cold as the water dried on her body.
She grabbed for the phone on the counter and pressed speed dial. “Hello?” A strange voice answered. She looked down at the phone to make sure she had dialed the right number, knowing she had.
“Uh. May I speak to Nikki?”
“Oh, is this Danielle?”
A chill shot through her. “Yes,” she said coolly. “Who is this?” Why was somebody else answering Nikki’s cell phone?
“Oh, this is Keedra,” the chipper voice said. “I met you a while ago.”
“Why do you have Nikki’s phone?” Danielle demanded.
“Oh, she’s just down the hall,” Keedra said. “She’s putting Psalm to bed. She asked me to answer the phone for her. Do you need me to give her a message?”
Scandalous Truth Page 13