The Double Life: A Novel By Shea Lynn

by Shea Lynn

  “Hi,” she said, with a tight smile.

  “Hey. Good morning. You look nice.”

  “Thanks. I gotta get going,” she said, moving towards the doorway.

  “Sid?”

  She looked back at me, awaiting my next words.

  “I don’t want us to fight. I’m sorry for whatever I did to cause the fight,” I said.

  She gave me that tight, little smile again and replied, “I know you don’t. It’s not your fault. I’m sorry I yelled at you. I’ve really gotta get going. But I’ll see you tonight. Okay?”

  I nodded. “Tonight then.”

  She sighed and headed on down the hallway. I could hear her kissing the kids goodbye.

  This was our routine. Her commute into the city meant she needed to leave the house before any of us. She’d drive her car to the Park and Ride station to hop on the el and ride the purple line downtown. In the evening, she’d do the same thing in reverse. So that left me with getting the kids ready in the morning and picking them up after school.

  A lot of my co-workers couldn’t understand a man who got his children ready for school and picked them up in the afternoon. To them, that was what a woman should be doing. Some even suggested we get a nanny to help out. I always laughed at how ridiculous that sounded.

  I loved my kids. I loved spending time with them. And I loved the fact that the reason I was spending time with them was so my beautiful wife could follow her dreams and climb the ladder on the job. That was important to me. She was important to me.

  And it was like she couldn’t even see it.

  She couldn’t see she was breaking my heart.

  When I got to work that morning, I logged into my system, checked my email for any urgent items and then headed outside to walk around in the sun and clear my head. The weather was decent, hovering around the mid-sixties with a little bit of sunshine in the air. As I stood near the building, midway between the smokers and the doorway, a warm breeze slid around me. The spring was shaping up nice and I couldn’t help but look forward to the summer.

  But what did the change of seasons mean? More arguing? More nights alone in my bed?

  I rolled my head around on my neck, hoping to release some of the tension I was carrying there. I could already feel the beginnings of a tension headache. As I was heading back inside a thought occurred to me; I hadn’t been able to get through to Sidney, but maybe there was something going on she didn’t want to discuss with me. Maybe she thought I wouldn’t understand.

  But maybe someone else could.

  I didn’t want to go to her sister. I rarely talked to Karen and I didn’t want to call her up out of the blue to tell her all my business.

  I didn’t want to drag my mother-in-law into it either.

  The only other person that Sidney really seemed to get along with was Dayna Wilkins. I turned back around and headed out to that safe spot between the smokers and the doorway and looked through my phone until I found Dayna Wilkins’ cell phone number.

  Chapter Thirty-Two: Sidney

  I was having a stellar day. I’d had an 8:30am meeting with a client and 9:35am presentation on my current case load, complete with a case by case status report, with my boss. Andrew Nash, the fiftyish, slightly graying man before me seemed pleased with my progress. He smiled and leaned back against the black mesh of the chair, linking his hands together before placing them on the cherry wood table before him. I was still standing, my pointer in hand, at the front of our conference room.

  Andrew was my only audience. We had these meetings once a month. It was Andrew’s belief that I should be the firm’s next partner. I was young, brilliant, and my race had not gone unnoticed. Our firm was focused solely on intellectual property law. We advised both individuals and companies, both large and small. In the past few years there had been a meteoric rise in African-American owned and operated businesses and Baxter, Banks, and Woods wanted to gain as many of these clients as possible.

  And it was Andrew’s view that having an African-American partner would do wonders for the firm.

  My boss wasn’t shy about telling me so and I appreciated his honesty. Not to mention, he knew I was brilliant. He wasn’t intimidated by my intellect and to him it didn’t really matter why I moved up the ranks. He had a bonus tied to my promotion. Along with the extra cash would come the notoriety of being the man responsible for bringing the brightest mind into the tightly woven leadership circle of Baxter, Banks, and Woods.

  We talked for a while longer before I shut down my presentation and he collected his things and grabbed his hand-crafted wooden walking stick. Andrew was a vain man. Though he had a noticeable bulge at his waistline, he was still handsome, with sexy dark brows, piercing blue eyes, and a tan he maintained all year. He was clean shaven and his suits were always European cuts and reeked of opulence. His mane of salt and pepper hair added that Ricard Gere-esque look to a man who had no problem turning the heads of women half his age. I’d often wondered just how faithful he was to his loving wife.

  I walked toward my boss and he said, “Excellent work, Sidney. You’re moving along wonderfully. For our next staff meeting, I want you make a presentation similar to this. I’ll talk to Veronica and get you added to the schedule. Condense the material. Make it easy to digest, but keep the same level of detail. I want everyone to know just how many cases you’re handling and just how many different types of legal precedents you’ve handled over the past few months. For some reason, the other partners view that idiot, Paul Jacobson, as being the most seasoned associate we’ve got. They’re wrong. And I want them to see just how wrong they are.”

  I nodded, unable to stop smiling. “As do I. I’ll work on the presentation and get it ready for next week’s meeting. I’ll float you a copy before then.”

  He nodded, his blue eyes twinkling. “Thank you, Sidney. As always, it’s been a pleasure.”

  And then he walked off toward his office, the mild pause in his gait barely noticeable to me.

  Back in my own den, I docked my notebook computer and sat down in my leather chair. I was preparing to wade through the emails that had come through in the past few hours when my office phone rang.

  “This is Sidney King,” I answered.

  “It’s me,” she said.

  I recognized the gentle timbre of her melodic voice in seconds. It was the voice I couldn’t get out of my head. My heart began to race and my entire body tensed. How could I react so strongly to her after the time apart? When would her hold on my body fade? Would it fade?

  We shared pleasantries and I struggled to maintain a balance of cordialness without letting the soothing sound of her voice draw me into having a setback.

  “Aaron called me, Sid. He’s worried about you.”

  I went from cordial to fiery in an instant. My husband’s name was not the name I wanted to hear from her lips. “What do you mean, he called you?”

  Her tone was placating. “Calm down, Sidney.”

  My voice rose of its own volition. “Why is he calling you?”

  “Hey! Sidney. It’s me, okay? Stop yelling at me.”

  I took a deep breath and following a long exhale, my voice came out much more evenly tempered than it’d been at the outset. “I’m sorry. I overreacted. But please, tell me what you mean.”

  She told me about her talk with Aaron and about his request that she try to reach out to me in a way the he couldn’t seem to do. The theme from the Twilight Zone suddenly started playing in my mind. Once again, God seemed to be laughing at me. I grew quiet, filling the silence with my thoughts, the weight of my present heavy upon my shoulders.

  “Sid…Sid are you still there?” she finally asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Aaron did call me. But it doesn’t take him asking to make me want to know if you’re okay. I miss you so much,” she whispered.

  My eyes watered, the emotion in her voice unsettled me. “I miss you, too. I’ve uh…I’ve got a really busy day. Maybe we can get together. S
ome place public. Maybe the coffee house. Maybe we can just talk.”

  Her answer came quickly, as though it had been prepared before we’d spoken. “Tonight. 7:30. I’ll talk to Aaron. I’ll let him know you want to get together and talk. You just meet me there, okay?”

  I didn’t have long to ponder my evening plans. My calendar reminded me that I had a lunch meeting in twenty minutes at a location that was fifteen minutes away. I hurried away to my appointment, Dayna’s near “I miss you so much” still echoing in my mind.

  Chapter Thirty-Three: Dayna

  I glanced down at my watch. She was already ten minutes late. I’d been sitting at the quaint little coffee shop on Central Avenue for nearly twenty minutes. My peppermint tea was nearly gone and the half an inch that remained in my cup was tepid at best. I was seated at a table for two by the window in the front of the shop. This choice was strategic. I was hoping that us being so close to that window, practically on display for the rest of the patrons and anyone passing by, would help keep us on the straight and narrow.

  Literally.

  I bent down and drank the last sip of my tepid tea from the large, green coffee mug. The moment I sat the cup down she was standing beside me, grinning from ear to ear.

  My eyes betrayed my intentions. They gazed longingly at the crisp gray suit, lingering at the curve of her hips. My wayward eyes then moved up to the cup of her breasts, pausing at the space of silky brown flesh left exposed between the low-cut, silky white tank of her shirt and her collarbone. I had planted a hundred kisses in that space and I absently licked my lips at the errant memory.

  “Hi, sorry I’m late,” she said, smiling down at me.

  I was breathless.

  Sidney leaned down and kissed my cheek, leaving a soft, vanilla fragrance that hung in the air even after she’d taken a seat across from me.

  What was the protocol for this situation? What were the rules?

  “Thank you for meeting me,” I said, a nervous smile spilling across my lips. She’d caught me off guard; her chaste display of affection had left me shivering.

  Her eyes met mine and the pretense disappeared. She didn’t answer my greeting and she didn’t need to. We went deeper than casual conversation and the discussion we shared with our eyes was more than sufficient. I could see the flaming embers of want dancing around her dark brown pools. The need that touched the part of me I’d tried hard to forget.

  “I’ve missed you,” she said, through soft painted lips that beckoned to be tasted.

  I looked down into my now-empty cup. “I think I may have missed you more.”

  She reached out and placed her hand on top of mine. The sensation was both comforting and arousing. “Please, look at me,” she whispered. That need still present in her dark eyes.

  I met her gaze. “What did…what did you want to talk about?” she asked.

  “Aaron.”

  That name seemed to dampen the flame. She nearly recoiled from me. Drawing back her hand and glancing down and around. Anywhere but at me.

  “Ahh. Aaron. What exactly is he so worried about?”

  “You. He says you haven’t been yourself. You’re irritable and distant. He’s afraid…afraid of losing you.”

  Tears shone in her eyes and for the first time, I felt sorry for her. She looked wounded and hurt. Vulnerable. Far different than she’d appeared just moments before.

  “Dayna, I think he may have already lost me. I can’t sleep. I can’t stop snapping at him. I don’t want to hurt him. But…he’s just not you. I miss you so much. It’s not his fault that I feel this way, but I keep punishing him. I know it’s not fair…but it’s like it’s not me. I want to be kind to him, but I just can’t.”

  I wanted to take her hurt away. I wanted to soothe and hold her and race to Sara’s. But my carnal wants weren’t what she needed. She needed a friend and a guide. Someone to help her out of this darkness she’d found herself in.

  I gave her a soft smile and replied, “It’s just the enemy, you know.”

  She rolled her eyes and chuckled bitterly. “Well, if it is the devil in me, it certainly makes sense. I feel possessed.”

  “Don’t give him the control You have the control. And you know….I learned that from my Sunday school teacher,” I said with a wink.

  That made her smile. “So you did learn something.”

  “I did. And we all miss you in class. I barely see you these days, Sid.”

  “I think that’s for the best. I can’t be around you without wanting you.”

  Those words slid through me and made my center ache. The power of her presence amazed me. We’d been there all of ten minutes and already, I knew I had to be moist with want. My body needed her. But I was determined not to give in and be Sidney’s friend.

  I shifted in my seat and scratched the side of my neck before asking, “Do you want some tea?”

  She nodded and I signaled to the spunky, tattooed waitress. She smiled broadly and asked, “What can I get you?”

  I ordered us a pot of relaxing mint tea with honey and some light tea sandwiches. Our waitress smiled once more before she departed.

  Sidney cleared her throat and asked, “Do I make you uncomfortable?”

  I stared directly at her and replied, “Yes. You do.”

  “That was honest.”

  We were playing with fire. Tap dancing around a bottomless pit.

  I didn’t want her to get burned. And I didn’t want her to fall.

  I cleared my throat and whispered, “We’re being like Job. Remember?”

  She nodded, her long lashes batting shyly at me. “I remember.”

  “Good. So please, turn down the sexy. You’re killing me.”

  That made her laugh. A soft girlish laugh that touched her lonesome eyes and made me smile.

  “What sexy? I’m just being me. But I’ll try to evoke Baptist Sunday school teacher for you. ” Then she leaned over closer to me and lowered her voice. “And….before we flip the switch and turn off my sexy, please turn off yours, too.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked coyly.

  “You have been eyeballing me from the moment you saw me. Your lips are saying one thing but your eyes are saying another.”

  I’d been caught. It wasn’t long before our order arrived and the soothing effect of the tea seemed to calm the tension between us. Over that pot of minced mint leaves, we chatted as girlfriends.

  “Dayna?” she finally said, sitting her tea mug down on the table.

  The way she spoke my name always called me to attention. My eyebrows involuntarily saluted and my gaze met hers.

  “I feel like I’m losing my mind. I really do.”

  “Because of us?” I asked.

  She told me about the anxiousness she’d been feeling. About being off balance and being angry with Aaron. Of resenting him. Of watching herself be mean to him and feeling unable to stop it. And as she spoke, I couldn’t help but see images of the two of them sharing heated words. And in the fantasy I could slip my arms around her waist and whisper soothing words into her ear. I could calm her and take her away with me.

  Her voice tethered me to the coffee shop and I said words that I hoped were encouraging and supportive. She asked me how my trials were shaping up and I sighed and sipped from my mug of tea. “Cameron’s moving back in.”

  The flash of hurt in her eyes, the pained look that flashed across her face met me before her words. “He is?”

  I needed her to know. I wanted her to know. I’d never wanted to cause that pain in her eyes, but I wanted to be honest with her.

  “He is. He was supposed to talk to his landlord today and see if he could move out by the first of May. He’s only on a month to month.”

  Sidney stared through me, her body present but her words sounded hollow and lost. “Yeah. I remember that. Month to month lease. The first is only a few days away.”

  We shared a small silence before she whispered, “Sweetie, look at me.”

  I was st
ill “Sweetie”. The sound of that nickname on her lips sent a rush of warmth through my body.

  “We keep going. We keep trying. You’ve worked really hard on your relationship with Cameron. You’ve been to counseling for months now. If he’s really sincere, you owe it to him to keep trying. You owe it to Nina to keep trying.”

  I sighed and swallowed thickly before I replied. “He is trying. He’s trying so hard. And I need to tell you something else.”

  I saw her eyes flicker and her shoulders sink a little before she replied, “Okay.”

  “That last Saturday, when we went to Sara’s?” I began.

  She nodded, her dark eyes focused intently on me. And then I told her about the flowers that had been waiting on me in the kitchen of the house I now shared with him. I told her about my mother’s phone call. I filled in the missing pieces that we hadn’t shared. And then I asked her a question I hadn’t stopped asking myself, “What if I’m making a huge mistake by rushing him back home?”

  Sidney’s shoulders slumped and though she looked down and dejected, her words sounded strong. “You can’t make a mistake in giving him another chance. You can’t go wrong with following God’s plan for you.”

  Those words should have been meaningful and soul-filling. But they were hollow, like her dark brown eyes.

  “How do I know that’s His plan?”

  She smiled bitterly and bit her lip before responding. Her eyes shone when she spoke. “Because I surely can’t be His plan for you. We….us….together, can’t be His plan.”

  We continued walking the delicate balance between friends and lovers and it wasn’t long before the clock read 10pm and we’d made it through two pots of tea and two separate bathroom breaks.

  Sidney glanced at her watch and said, “You know what time it is.”

  It wasn’t a question, but a statement. A signal for me to acknowledge it was time for us to part ways.