Secret Indiscretions

by Trice Hickman

  Although Vivana had been pissed to high heaven and had tried to choke him, now that she was calm, she felt bad about what she’d done to Johnny. She remembered how mangled his face looked after she clawed him like a bear, and she knew his jaw must feel even worse because her fist had hit him again during their heated exchange. But he’d called her a crazy bitch, and she couldn’t allow him to talk to her that way and get away with it. She wanted to teach him not to ever call her out of her name again. “I think I got my point across,” she said aloud.

  Vivana tossed the cloth to the floor and walked back into the room. She stood at the window for a second and looked down at her car below, and again, she thought about Johnny. With each second that passed, more and more regret surged through her. “All I wanted to do was show him how much I love him,” she whispered. “That’s why I want us to get away from everything, just the two of us. A romantic getaway is exactly what we need.”

  Vivana shook her head as she thought about the look that had come over Johnny’s face when she showed him the picture of the resort she wanted them to visit. While doing Internet research on him a few months ago, she’d come across his old wedding announcement. Although she was disappointed that the brief text wasn’t accompanied by a photo, she saw that he and his new bride had planned to celebrate their honeymoon in Cancun. After the incident this morning she wanted to see how much she could really trust him, so she decided to test him. She pretended that she wanted to go to Cancun, and she hoped that he would be honest and tell her that he’d been, and that, in fact, it was where he’d spent his honeymoon. But instead he lied.

  Vivana couldn’t understand why he’d lie about something as simple as a vacation spot he’d visited, especially since it was a thing of the past. But then it came to her that Cancun probably brought back too many bad memories of his wife, so she gave him a pass and was prepared to let the small fib slide. But when he reminded her of their “obligations,” that was when Vivana started seeing red. Then he added insult to injury by calling her out of her name, and that’s when she lost it.

  “I’m so sorry about what I did,” Vivana whispered aloud, thinking about the beating she’d given Johnny. “I need to make it up to him.”

  Vivana reached for her handbag and slipped on her shoes. She walked over to the ice bucket and turned the bottle of wine up to her lips again for another long drink. She took the plastic, hotel-issued laundry bag from the closet and placed the half-empty bottle inside. “I’ve got to put things back on track,” she said as she walked out the door.

  Once she was in her car, Vivana pulled out her smartphone. She logged onto her BrickHouse account and smiled. “Technology, you gotta love it,” she said as her screen lit up, detailing a map with grid-lines and red dots. Earlier today after she’d caught Johnny at the apartment building with a strange woman—she now wished she’d remembered to get the woman’s license plate number so she could run a trace to learn her identity—Vivana knew she had to find a more efficient way of keeping an eye on Johnny, so she made a visit to a local tech store and purchased a black cloud GPS tracker. The device allowed her to not only track Johnny’s vehicle’s movements in real time, it left breadcrumbs, indicated by tiny red dots, that pinpointed the locations where he’d been.

  Vivana saw that he’d made a stop on the south side of town, which she knew was where his best friend, Bernard, lived. She figured Johnny needed someone to talk to because he was just as upset and regretful as she was about all that had happened between them today. As Vivana looked at his current location, it showed that he had just arrived at his home. Another smile came to her face. “It makes sense now,” she said with excitement. “Johnny probably stopped by Bernard’s to ask him if he can stay with him for a while, and now he’s going to tell Geneva that it’s over and he wants a divorce. I bet he’s getting ready to pack his clothes any minute now.”

  Vivana was so happy she forgot about her sore hip and her throbbing headache. All she could think of was the happiness that she and Johnny were going to experience together once they were both free of the dead weight known as their spouses. She reached into the plastic bag and took another long swallow of wine. “Ahhh, now I feel just right.”

  With newfound determination Vivana put the key in the ignition of her car, started the engine, and headed home to tell Samuel that she wanted a divorce.

  Chapter 17

  GENEVA

  Geneva felt like a teenager experiencing her first real crush. She was lying in bed, talking to Donetta on the phone, and giggling with each detail she revealed about her conversation with Samuel. “I’m glad you’re finally admitting that you’re interested in the man,” Donetta said.

  “It’s almost hard for me to believe, but yes, I’m interested.”

  “Okay, now you know you have to give me the low-down.”

  “He’s so kind and sweet,” Geneva said with a smile in her voice that matched the one on her face. “This time last week I would’ve never thought that I’d feel this way about another man. It’s like that love at first sight stuff you see in the movies.”

  “I’ve never experienced anything like that, so I wouldn’t have a clue.”

  “Until today, neither had I. But let me tell you, it’s real. As soon as I saw Samuel at the open house last week, sparks started flying. We have a natural chemistry that feels so right. I’ve never felt anything like this.”

  “And I’ve never heard you sound like you do right now. This man really made an impression on you, huh?”

  “Yes, and as crazy as it sounds, I feel like we’re connected. He’s easy to talk to and he has a way of making me feel relaxed and comfortable. Oh, and he looks directly into my eyes when he talks to me.”

  “Honey, that’s a good sign. Most brothers totally avoid eye-to-eye combat, acting like it’s gonna kill them or something, ’cause they can’t tell the damn truth if they mama’s life depended on it. They be lookin’ all sideways, tryin’ to string together some ol’ bogus lie.”

  Geneva felt bad for Donetta because she knew the kind of man that her friend had just described was the kind that Donetta had had the misfortune of being involved with. Donetta’s bitter disdain for men was not without irony, given that she was still anatomically a male, and wouldn’t complete her gender reassignment surgery until sometime next year. Geneva knew that her friend had a closet full of bad memories and disappointments when it came to relationships. And even though Donetta was salty most times in matters of the heart, she still desired to have someone to love.

  “Okay, I know he’s nice, and smart and everything,” Donetta said, “but do you think he can fuck?”

  “Donetta!”

  “What?”

  “What kind of question is that?”

  “A legitimate one. And for your sake, I hope he looks like he can.”

  “There’s no way you can tell if a man is good in bed just by looking at him.”

  “I disagree. They give you clues, you just have to know what to look for. Take for instance, if he walks with swagger, and especially if he has rhythm when he dances, most likely he can put it down. Did you notice how he walked?”

  Geneva shook her head and laughed. “He walks just fine.”

  “Good, now you need to get him on the dance floor.”

  “Leave it to you to always be thinking with the wrong head.”

  “Honey, like it or lump it, sex is what makes the world go round . . . that, and money. But seriously, I asked because you know how it is when it comes to men and screwin’. Either they ain’t worth a damn, but they can bring it between the sheets, or they can solve a linear equation but can’t find your g-spot if you give ’em a damn GPS.”

  Geneva laughed. “You’re straight-up stupid.”

  “And I’m right, too.”

  Geneva had to admit that, although crude in her approach, Donetta made a good point, and Johnny was a perfect example. He was a bad boy, for sure, but over the years he’d given her pleasure that fulfilled her sexu
al needs and never left her wanting. Conversely, the men she’d dated in the past, who were nice, polite, and gainfully employed but had absolutely no swagger, were the ones who’d left her needing to use her vibrator.

  Geneva reached over to her nightstand for the novel she was currently reading. “Donetta, I can’t deal with you tonight. I’m going to read the next chapter in my book before I go to sleep.”

  “Where’s Mr. Wrong?” Donetta huffed into the phone. “Is he still out?”

  “Yeah, I guess so.”

  “What do you mean you guess so? Either your husband is or isn’t at home.”

  Geneva sighed. “Honestly, I could care less about where he is or what he’s doing. All I know is that I’m going to read my book, fall asleep and then wake up for work tomorrow.”

  Donetta was silent.

  “Are you still there?” Geneva asked.

  “Yes, I’m just a little shocked. Normally you get all upset and beside yourself over that Negro, especially when he’s out for no good reason. You really feelin’ this new man, ain’t you?”

  “It goes beyond feeling him. I’m feeling myself. For the first time since I married Johnny I’m putting myself first instead of him. I’ve bent over backwards trying to get that man to do right, to notice me, and to love me. I finally realized that I shouldn’t have to beg anyone to be with me.”

  “Amen to that!”

  “Samuel doesn’t know it, but he’s an important part of what finally opened my eyes. In just the two times we’ve seen each other he’s made me feel more beautiful and appreciated than Johnny ever has.”

  “Wow,” Donetta said. “You sound like a different person. But I like it. This is almost more than my cynical ass can take in one night.”

  “So does that mean despite the fact that you don’t trust love at first sight, you’re happy for me?”

  “Honey, I’m overjoyed. As a matter of fact, when you see Mr. Wonderful again, ask him if he has any available friends.”

  “Good night, Donetta.”

  “See you at the shop in the mornin’.”

  After Geneva hung up, she opened her book to the page where she’d left off last night. Just as she was about to start the next chapter she heard footsteps coming down the hall. For the first time since she’d been married she hoped that Johnny wouldn’t come home tonight, but unfortunately he was there. She didn’t want to deal with his lies, moody disposition, or downright funky attitude.

  Geneva raised her book eye-level to her face so she wouldn’t have to look at him. When he reached the bedroom, he stopped short of coming in and stood at the door. Geneva didn’t move a muscle and she hoped he’d do as he normally did, which was avoid her. She continued to read her book in hope that he’d get the hint that she wanted him to go away.

  “Um, I’m home,” Johnny said in a pitiful sounding voice.

  Geneva had wanted to ignore him, but she’d never heard Johnny sound the way he did now, as if he’d just lost his best friend. It prompted her to look up from her book. The first thing she noticed was that he was wearing a shirt she’d never seen before. But as she zeroed in on his face she nearly fell out of bed. She gasped as if she’d just seen a ghost. She placed her hands over her mouth as her eyes grew big at the sight of him.

  “Don’t panic. I’m okay,” Johnny said.

  “What happened to you?” Geneva kicked her legs over the side of the bed and stood to her feet. “Oh, dear Lord! What happened?” Her hand flew to her mouth again.

  “Geneva, calm down.”

  “How can I calm down when you walk in here looking like this?”

  Johnny slowly made his way over to where Geneva was standing and she became more horrified with each step he took. His handsome face that always felt smooth to the touch was now covered with scratches so deep in some places she could see his pink-colored flesh beneath his skin’s surface. She looked down at his right hand, which was holding his bloodstained dress shirt, and saw that his fingers looked just as badly mauled as his face. “Who, or what, did this to you?”

  Johnny walked over to his side of the bed and sat down atop the comforter. “I got jacked.”

  “What?”

  “I was carjacked.”

  Although Amber was a safe town with a very low crime rate, Geneva knew there were some dicey sections where one shouldn’t go after dark. She also knew that Johnny made sure he never visited those areas, and being in real estate, he definitely knew where to go and what parts to avoid. When she thought about it, there was a section of town that was known for such activity, and it was one that Johnny specifically avoided. As she took another look at his face, closely examining his injuries, she found his story hard to believe. Although his jaw was badly swollen, most of his wounds were scratches. She knew that carjackers pistol-whipped, punched, and beat their victims, not scratch them.

  Then it came to her as if a lightbulb had just been turned on, allowing her to see things clearly. He’d probably been messing around with a woman, pissed her off, and then she scratched the hell out of him. Geneva felt sick to her stomach at the thought. She walked over to him. “Tell me how this happened.”

  Johnny lifted his head, but he didn’t look into her eyes as he spoke. “I don’t even know where to begin.”

  “The beginning is always a good start,” she said in a dismissive tone.

  “Why’re you talking to me that way?”

  “What way?”

  “All nonchalant like you don’t care. I was attacked and I’m sitting here in pain, and you’re acting like it’s no big deal.”

  It was hard for Geneva to listen to his pathetic, nonsensical lie. But she surprised herself because even though she was appalled by Johnny’s blatant disrespect, she wasn’t upset. As a matter of fact, she felt indifferent. She didn’t want to see anyone in pain or hurt, but at the same time she didn’t feel overly concerned about him, at least not physically. He was strong and he had more lives than a cat.

  “Say something,” Johnny said, pulling Geneva from her thoughts. “Tell me that I’m wrong. Tell me that you care, Geneva.”

  “Tell me what the hell really happened to you?”

  “I told you, I got carjacked!” he said, raising his voice.

  “Don’t yell at me,” she countered. “Tell me in detail what happened.”

  Johnny let out a deep breath. “I was at a stoplight in Harris Point, on my way to get my hair cut, when a car pulled up behind me. Two guys got out and stood on each side of my truck. They pulled their guns and told me to get out, and when I did one of them started whalin’ on me. It was pretty much a blur after that. It all happened so fast.”

  His lie was so ridiculous that she didn’t feel like punching holes in the story he’d spun. She didn’t want to get upset so she went on to a more logical line of questioning. “Did you call the police?”

  “No, I didn’t. Do you know how many carjackings and robberies happen on that side of town? If I’d called the cops I’d still be there right now, waiting for them to come.”

  Geneva examined his face again. “Your cuts look like they’ve been cleaned, and you’re wearing a fresh shirt,” she said, looking at the bloody one in his hand.

  “Uh, yeah. I went by Bernard’s.”

  Geneva tilted her head as she thought about what Johnny had just said. She knew that Bernard had cleaned up his life and was a completely reformed man from the person he used to be. He was now honorable and loyal to his girlfriend, and Geneva knew this from being around him as well as from what his kind-hearted girlfriend, Candace, had told her.

  “Okay, so let me get this straight,” Geneva said. “You drove to the roughest side of town in the middle of the night to get your hair cut, and you got carjacked, yet they didn’t take your truck . . .”

  Johnny interrupted her. “Because I fought them off.”

  Geneva rolled her eyes at his lie, but she found the focus to continue. “Okay, whatever. So after the attempted carjacking, instead of calling the police or g
oing to the hospital, you went to Bernard’s house, washed your face and changed your shirt.”

  Johnny nodded his head and continued to avoid her eyes.

  “You should be ashamed of yourself for pulling Bernard into your lie.”

  “I’m not lying! I did go to Bernard’s house. You can call him if you don’t believe me.” Johnny pulled out his cell phone and held it up in front of Geneva. “You know he won’t lie.”

  “I believe that the part of your story about Bernard is true, but I don’t believe the rest of it. I’ve put up with a lot of your foolishness over the years, and I accept responsibility for that because I should’ve known better, but enough is enough. I’ve had it up to my neck with your constant lies.”

  “Geneva, I’m telling you the truth. I was attacked and I could’ve been killed by a lunatic.”

  “You just said ‘a’ lunatic. Not lunatics. I thought you said there were two of them.”

  “It was, but only one of them attacked me.”

  “Did he have press-ons or acrylics, because it’s clear that someone scratched you up. What’s her name?”

  Johnny hung his head low. “I’m telling you the truth.”

  Geneva couldn’t bring herself to listen to any more of his lies. She silently walked over to her closet, pulled off her nightgown, and slipped on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. She grabbed her overnight bag and stuffed it with enough clothes for a few days. She walked back out to the bedroom, bag in hand, and found Johnny still sitting in the same spot where she’d left him.

  “Where’re you going?” Johnny asked. His voice registered alarm and surprise all at once.

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m going to Donetta’s.”

  “Why?”

  Geneva ignored his question. She walked over to her dresser, opened the top drawer, and pulled out several pairs of panties and bras. She stuffed them into her bag and then headed to the bathroom. It only took her a few minutes to pack the essential toiletries she would need. Her overnight bag was full when she walked past Johnny.