Bigamist

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Bigamist Page 9

by Elaine Flowers


  “Take your time? We don’t have all day. They gave us an hour and she was thirty minutes late as it is.”

  “Just give her a minute.”

  My sorrow turned to anger and I wanted to slap the shit out of Amy. But, instead I blubbered like an idiot. Then, I pulled out a stack of photos and one at a time, I placed them on top of the casket. The first one was of Erick and me on our honeymoon, hugged up on the beach in Cabo. The second picture was of Erick holding Jersey at Sea World with a dolphin soaring in the air behind them. The next one was a professional family picture of the three of us. And finally, I placed a picture of Erick holding Darius in the delivery room next to the others. The only picture they would ever have together.

  “Goodbye, my love…” I finally mumbled.

  Each photograph haphazardly rested on the bed of flowers, threatening to fly away in the mild wind that was blowing. I would’ve loved for them to be placed inside with Erick’s body, but the casket was closed securely, ready to be lowered into the earth. So, I had to settle with them being loosely placed in the ground. It didn’t matter anyway. None of it did, really.

  I felt Rose’s hand touch my shoulder and some of my tension dissolved. But, before I could settle in—

  “Okay, that’s the extent of my generosity. I’ll see you bitches in court.” Amy stepped back, called over the awaiting grounds keepers with the wave of her hand, and headed to her car with her blond hair blowing in the breeze.

  Rose nervously turned in my direction. “Are you okay?” she asked me as the men prepared to lower Erick into his final resting place.

  “I’ll be fine.”

  We backed away and headed to the road.

  “She’s hurting just as we are,” Rose said as we stepped over headstones pressed into the ground. “Just like you, she’s afraid for her children—Rick’s children.”

  My breathing increased as anger took me over. “Don’t worry, she’s got me fucked up. We’ll be ready for her ass in court.”

  “For the children’s sake, I hope it won’t come to that—but, that’s none of my business.”

  I stopped in front of the passenger door of my car where Mari sat waiting. “This shit is about to be lit,” I said and swung open the door.

  Rose gave a simple wave, solemnly shook her head, and kept it moving to her own car parked across the road.

  I waved back and got in.

  18

  Amy

  I needed an escape just for a little while…

  I couldn’t believe she tossed all those pictures on Ricky’s casket. I should’ve circled back and had those guys pull them out. But it didn’t matter; I had already slipped pictures of Kory, Kylie, and me inside, right under Ricky’s folded hands.

  Listening to Iris and Rose talk about their lives with my Ricky was too much. How could he do this to me—to us? I kept asking myself if somewhere deep in my consciousness I knew he had been living full lives with other women—or even just with one woman. Did I know and was in denial? Or, was he really that good at juggling separate lives? I felt like a fool and wondered if I’d look less of one if I told people I knew about the other women and we had an open marriage. After all, I’d had lovers of my own. But that just wasn’t the way we portrayed ourselves, so it really wouldn’t work. And what was the point in trying to save face now? It was all out there for the world to see.

  There was no need in harping over the embarrassment; I just needed to get ready for the fight, and I knew Iris and her new babies were going to be the enemy.

  Alan greeted me as soon as I came through the back door. The expression on his face told me he had news.

  “We have a court date,” he announced.

  “Good. I’m ready to get this all over with.” I placed my purse on the kitchen counter. “It’s a shame that I even have to go through this to prove my marital status.”

  “Well, this is Texas. In another state it would be a bit more cut and dry—not even an issue, really.” He marched over to his laptop and turned it towards me. “I know we have an attorney, but I’ve been doing some of my own research and I’ve seen some things that concern me.”

  “Like?”

  “If Iris can prove that he publicly acknowledged her as his wife, that could be a problem. Also, if they own anything with both their names on it, that could be a problem.”

  I exhaled, sat at the kitchen table, and scrolled through Alan’s research results. There was a lot there and it was clearly more than my mind had the capacity to grasp at the time. Also, I refused to believe that Iris had any real standing. I wanted to hang on to what I knew in my head and heart. Ricky was my husband only and I was his wife.

  “We’re meeting with the attorney again tomorrow. We need to prepare.”

  “I don’t know why the facts just don’t speak for themselves but that’s fine.”

  “How did it go at the cemetery?” Alan sat across from me.

  “Iris tossed pictures of her kids onto the casket, trying to get us to feel sorry for her. Rose fell for it.”

  “I have to tell you that there is going to be some sympathy for her position. There needs to be a DNA done to make sure the children are Ricky’s and if they are, she’ll have some rights—or at least the kids will.”

  “I don’t want to think about it right now.” I stood and said, “I’m going to lie down.”

  “We’ll talk to the attorney about it tomorrow because I have a lot of questions.”

  “Okay… whatever… I’m going to bed.” I grabbed a bottle from the wine rack and a glass from the cabinet. “Goodnight.”

  “Sis, you okay?”

  “I will be.” I held up the bottle and made my way up the stairs.

  The journey seemed to take forever. Ricky and I often talked about downsizing our home once the kids were gone, especially since he was rarely there. Yeah, he was rarely home. Now I know why. Well, this big-ass house would be the first thing to go once all of this BS was settled.

  Once the double doors were closed, I shed my clothes and ran hot water in the Jacuzzi tub. There was some leftover Ambien in the medicine cabinet, so I disassembled the bathroom in search of it. It wasn’t a good idea to wash it down with a Cabernet, but I didn’t really care about that. Sleep was all I wanted.

  When I found the bottle, I popped two in my mouth—probably should’ve only had one with the wine—and swallowed them with a palm-full of tap water. I opened the wine and poured a glass full, placing it on the side of the tub just before stepping in.

  I sipped and thought—sipped and thought. My mind kept going back to the cemetery and wondered what Ricky would think about the three of us standing over him.

  “Do you know the mess you’ve caused?” I mumbled between sips.

  Hearing two women speak about him with such familiarity was difficult, to say the least. He was a husband to each of us, but I would never admit that aloud. I am the one and only wife—the legitimate one—and I kept saying it so there would be no doubt for anyone else. I couldn’t help that my husband was unfaithful and any woman with a cheating husband would understand that. I didn’t care if Ricky had loved them, he belonged to me.

  “Did you see us standing over your casket, Ricky? All of us looking and feeling foolish… I really hate you for this.” I poured another glass. “And through all of this, I can’t find the love I once had for you—the love I used to feel.”

  I swallowed that glass in two big gulps and stood up from the water. I poured the last of the wine in my glass, slipped my wet body into Ricky’s bathrobe, and made my way to the bed. I had never wanted to get in it as badly as I did at that moment. I needed sleep. I needed an escape just for a little while, and then tomorrow I would be ready to face it all.

  Sleep came suddenly but unfortunately I could-n’t turn my brain off, still. I couldn’t tell if I was saying it aloud, but I kept asking why.

  “Why did you do this, Ricky?”

  “We weren’t supposed to end like this…”

  “
Why?”

  “Baby, I’m sorry,” I heard Ricky’s voice.

  “But, why did you do this to me?”

  “None of that matters now. Just know that I love you…”

  I know it was a dream, but I felt someone in the room with me, so I opened my eyes. There he was. My Ricky, standing at the foot of the bed.

  “You’re here…”

  “I had to see you—and you needed to see me one last time.”

  I couldn’t find my hate or anger for him. I was well within my right to have my questions answered. I needed to know specifics. I needed to know details: when did he decide to make these other women his family? Was he so unhappy with me that he wanted to start over? Instead, I felt nothing but peacefulness. I couldn’t even bring myself to mention the other women.

  The intensity of his presence increased as he moved closer to me. I never took my eyes off him even though they were growing heavy. I learned from when my father used to come to me after he died, if I closed my eyes or turned away, he’d disappear. I couldn’t let that happen. I wanted Ricky to stay as long as he could.

  “I don’t want you to worry about what others may say. You come first. Don’t worry…”

  “We were supposed to grow old together, but you left me.”

  “I’ll never really leave you… I loved you first.”

  I could barely keep my eyelids up, but I pressed on. “You left a mess.”

  “Forgive me and try not to blame them. It’s not their fault.”

  “I don’t know if I can do that.”

  “It’s all going to be okay.”

  I felt my eyes closing even though I willed them to stay open. I heard one more ‘I love you’ from Ricky and it was all over. He was gone. And I was asleep.

  I slept hard because it seemed that only moments passed when Alan was knocking on my door to wake me. There was sun beaming through all of the windows, so it was clearly morning. Finally, he came through the door calling my name.

  “Are you okay in here?” Alan was fully dressed and placed a cup of coffee on the nightstand next to me.

  “Yeah, what time is it?”

  “It’s nine-thirty and time for you to get up and get it together. Our meeting is at eleven.”

  I had never felt so down before—even through all of this, this had to be my bottom. I couldn’t move. I wanted to go back to what seemed like only moments ago and see Ricky again. I wanted to talk to him and have him tell me again that everything was going to be okay. I knew that once I got out of that bed, the memory of seeing him again would start to fade.

  “Come on, get up.”

  “I’m not going. I’m tired.”

  “What do you mean you’re not going?”

  “I can’t make it.” I pulled the covers up over my head and nestled in.

  “You have to be there. Do you want me to reschedule it for later today?”

  “No, just go and tell me what’s going on when you get back,” I announced from under the covers.

  “Preliminary court is on Monday. Now is not the time to throw in the towel.”

  “I’m not—I just can’t do it today. Maybe he can ask for a continuance or something.”

  “A continuance? I thought you wanted this over with quickly.”

  “I haven’t even had a chance to grieve the loss of my husband,” I yelled, imagining it sounding muffled with the comforter over my head.

  “You can’t do both. Grieve later and fight now. If you want to make sure those heifas don’t get their claws on what’s yours, the window of opportunity is now.”

  “Really…” I poked my head out. “Today is not a good day. Just see if you can relay the information and we’ll stay on track with Monday’s date.”

  I heard Alan close the doors behind him once I retreated under the covers again.

  19

  Rose

  …I just couldn’t look away no matter how badly I wanted to.

  Opening the mail hadn’t been a priority since Rick died so when I finally spent time at home, and decided to address household business, I discovered a letter in a weighted stack of mail, demanding my appearance in court. My desire to bow out of this mess gracefully wasn’t going to happen. At least not right away.

  I truly wanted to be done with everything and move on with my life. I could cherish my memories of Rick without the public humiliation of competing with women who obviously had the upper hand. That just wasn’t my style.

  There wasn’t any food in the house, so I managed a cup of tea and some stale graham crackers. I sat at the breakfast bar holding the letter, reading it over and over again. I picked up the phone and scrolled through the contacts, dialing the one number of whom I knew could help.

  “Dr. Rose McDaniel for Stanley Satcher, please.”

  “Yes, Dr. McDaniel. I’ll see if he’s available,” a voice on the other end said.

  “Hello, Rose. How are you?” a new voice said seconds later.

  “I’m fine, Stanley. How are you?”

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to the service. I was out of town. Rick was one of my dearest friends and clients so let me take this moment to extend my sincerest condolences.”

  “Thank you so much.”

  “Did you get the flowers Trudy and I sent?”

  “Yes, of course. I’ve been a bit slow about getting out thank you notes.”

  “No worries. What can I do for you?”

  “I have a letter here…” I held it up as if he could see through the phone. “I’m sure you know what’s going on… according to this, I’m supposed to appear in court and honestly, I just want to remove myself from the fight. The other two have children—and really, I’m not up to it. I just don’t want to put myself through it. Things are ugly enough.”

  “I doubt if you have a choice but stop by my office and let me see the letter.”

  “All I need is a death certificate to turn over to the insurance company, you know…”

  “I see…”

  “Can’t you just go in my place and tell the judge I’m bowing out?”

  “I can do that for you. But, are you sure that’s what you really want?”

  “I couldn’t be any more sure. Rick and I had a full life together and I don’t want to continue to muddy up the memories we shared. There really isn’t anything worth fighting for that I don’t already have. And as for Amy and Iris, they have good reason.”

  “What about the house you two lived in?”

  “It’s my home—I bought it before we moved together. The funny thing is, we had the paper work to add him to the deed, but we never got around to turning them over to the mortgage comp… hey, they can’t take my home from me, can they?” Panic arose in my chest. “I mean, he paid the mortgage, but…”

  “Well, don’t worry about it for now. I’ll be there to speak on your behalf. Stop by this afternoon with the letter. It’ll be good to see you.”

  “Thanks, Stanley.”

  When I disconnected the call, I finished my tea and made my way to the den to lie down for a bit. Sleeping in our bed had proven to be anything but restful. I tossed and turned the night before, dreaming of Rick. The dream was so real I questioned my own sanity once I awakened. It was as if he were in the room with me—speaking to me.

  In my dream, Rick looked like himself but more like his true self—calm and peaceful. He looked the way I imagine everyone would if they didn’t have the weight of the world’s trouble resting on them. Not one ounce of stress coming from him. He didn’t say much. He mostly smiled; telling me everything would be fine. What I remember most was that he seemed so happy. Not ‘laughing’ happy but ‘satisfied’ happy. I was thrilled for him, and everything that I’d been feeling—the anger and disappointment—was nowhere to be found. It only felt good to experience him and his love again.

  It was just a dream but in my mind, treated it as if it were real. While tears stung my eyes, I reminded myself of what we were to each other—friends—family. No one could
take that from me. But, withdrawal from addiction to Rick was settling in. I didn’t recall ever being addicted to anything before, so I was guessing that this is what it must feel like when you can’t get the needed fix. My body literally hurt, and my soul was numb. I had no idea how I was going to get through it because working day in and day out would only keep me afloat for so long.

  There was enough time for me to rest before preparing to see Stanley, so I turned on the television and wrapped a throw about my shoulders. After clicking through the channels, I settled upon a nationally syndicated talk show. I didn’t watch much television, so it was new to me. There were a couple familiar faces of women who sat around a desk—actresses and comediennes. I didn’t recognize them all, but I assumed they were all celebrities.

  The ladies were discussing what was hot in the media when the subject of the bigamist doctor came up. I could feel a pit forming in my stomach and immediately I wanted to change the station or even turn off the TV. However, I kept listening. It was like a train wreck; I just couldn’t look away no matter how badly I wanted to.

  Amy, Iris, and I were called every ugly name imaginable—as well as stupid. “How dumb were these women?” one woman asked. She went on to say that she knew her husband’s every move so that situation could never happen to her. Another woman berated her co-hosts of bashing women and letting the man off the hook. “Why is no one going ham on him?” she asked. ‘Ham’ was a new term for me.

  I found it interesting that people were arguing over the mess we were in. Some called all three of us dumb, some called Rick a womanizer, and most everyone sympathized with Amy—everyone except most black women. And then, when it came out that she too was a black woman, there was a debate over whether or not it was true, and why it mattered if she was or wasn’t.

  There was also plenty of discussion on Iris because she was already a bit of a celebrity in her own right and there were plenty of photos and video footage of her and her work. Then, there was talk of her losing endorsements because of the scandal. My heart broke for her. She had children to raise so I didn’t know how she was dealing with all of her attention being pulled in different directions. She got most of the heat because she was the last woman to come aboard and most thought she was a mistress ignoring that the ‘good doctor’ was married.

 

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