by Honey
“Okay.”
“I really appreciate this.”
“It’s not a problem at all,” Mrs. Lomax said with a bright smile on her face.
Chapter Twenty-eight
“Gem is a very pretty name.”
“Thank you. My daddy gave me that name. He said I looked like a precious gem when he first saw me when I was a baby.” Gem picked up a red crayon and started coloring an apple on the group mural.
“Did your mommy say that about you too?”
Gem nodded her head and smiled, but she continued coloring without a word.
“Do you miss your mommy while she’s away?”
“Yes, ma’am. Well . . . Sometimes I do, but sometimes I don’t. We’re going to fly on an airplane to visit her soon.”
Mrs. Lomax’s perfectly arched eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “You’re going to Maryland to visit your mommy?”
“She’s not in Maryland.” Gem giggled. “Mommy is in Montana. She’s in the mountains.”
“Montana? I thought . . . Anyway, what is your mommy doing in Montana, sugar?”
“She’s very sick so she had to go to the special hospital in Montana to see the special doctor so he can give her medicine and stuff to make her disease go away forever.”
“What kind of disease does your mommy have?”
“It’s a bad disease called addiction.”
“Oh my God!” Mrs. Lomax covered her bronze-painted lips and gasped.
“You know about addiction?”
“Yes, I sure do, sugar.”
“It’s really bad. It makes Mommy act weird sometimes. She screams a lot and throws up all the time.”
Mrs. Lomax looked up in time to see Josiah and Treasure approaching the table. She smiled and picked up an orange crayon and pretended that she was helping Gem color her section of the mural. The wheels inside her head were spinning out of control. Her suspicion that there was trouble in the Bishop family’s perfect little world had been confirmed, but she hadn’t suspected that wifey was a drug addict! She wondered what her substance of choice was. She, Frances, and Leon would have to do some digging around to crack the case. The information could be invaluable.
God knew that Denny could use a boost in the polls because he was thirteen points behind Mayor Bishop. But if voters were to find out that the mayor’s cute and curvy Barbie-doll wife was a crackhead or an alcoholic that he’d secretly shipped off to rehab, the political needle could move in the Lomax direction. Charmaine would love that because she didn’t want all of her stompings on the campaign trail to be in vain.
“Thank you so much, Mrs. Lomax.” Josiah had returned and touched her shoulder gently in a friendly gesture.
“You are most certainly welcome, Mayor Bishop.”
Josiah bent down and picked Treasure up. “This little girl is getting sleepy. I’m going to take her home and lay her down for a nap.”
Treasure rubbed her eyes and rested her head on her daddy’s shoulder.
“Come on, Gem. We’re going home, sweetie. Say goodbye to Mrs. Lomax and thank her for watching you while Daddy stepped away with your sister.”
“Thank you for watching me. Bye-bye.”
“Aren’t you sweeter than molasses? May I have a hug?”
Gem nodded her head and threw her arms around Mrs. Lomax’s neck before she stood up. She waved again and grabbed Josiah’s hand. Then she allowed him to lead her away with Treasure in tow.
A wicked smile spread across Charmaine Lomax’s expertly made-up face. All kinds of underhanded ideas began to unfold in her brain as she watched Josiah and his daughters leave the building. One question also came to mind. Who was the young lady that Frances had seen the mayor and his girls with at the restaurant last week? According to her very efficient assistant, they’d looked and interacted like a regular family. Was the mayor having an affair while his wife was up in Montana trying to exorcize her drug demons? Inquiring minds wanted to know and . . . soon they would.
* * *
“Babe, I was hit with the most shocking revelation today at the children’s event. I didn’t get a chance to tell you about it because you rushed off to your meeting.”
Dendrick closed the book he’d been reading and placed it on the nightstand. He looked at his pretty wife as she walked closer to the bed in a sexy burgundy negligee. He smelled his favorite scented lotion on her skin as she rubbed her palms together. He wanted her tonight. He wanted her bad. Since the campaign had started, it had been difficult for him to spend time with his secret lover, Anastasia. Good Lawd, he missed her! But since it was impossible for him to be with the one he loved tonight, he would have to love the one he was with. It was cool, though, because Dendrick was still sexually attracted to his wife of twelve years. So, their random romps between the sheets were still satisfying. But Anastasia had that platinum pussy that made a man feel rich and famous after fucking her. Dendrick saw visions of Rolexes, Ferraris, and Nottingham Palace after every nut he busted inside of Anastasia. Yeah, she had that platinum, prize-winning punanny. But unfortunately, tonight, he’d have to settle for silver sex.
“What are you talking about, Charmaine?” Dendrick asked after she’d teased him with a moment of silence.
Charmaine sat down on the bed, almost on his lap and ran her fingers through his hair. “I found out some information that might just turn the campaign around in your favor, babe.”
“I’m listening.”
“A very reliable source informed me that Atlanta’s current first lady, Mink Bishop, is in a drug rehabilitation center in Montana. That’s why we haven’t seen her on the campaign trail with her hubby in months. Don’t you find that interesting?”
“That’s gossip, Charmaine. You know I don’t deal in bullshit. I want to win the election on my own merit and my stance on the issues. I’m not into mudslinging and slanderous attacks.”
“Ugh! But you’re losing, Denny! I want to win! I would make a much-better first lady for Atlanta than some crack-rock-smoking, alcoholic, pill-popping addict! I deserve all the glitz and glamour that’ll come along with the position.”
Dendrick snatched the covers from his body and got up from the bed wearing only a pair of plaid, flannel pajama bottoms. “Leave it alone, Charmaine. I’m warning you. Forget about whatever you think you know about Bishop’s wife.”
Charmaine pursed her lips and rolled her eyes in response.
Dendrick stormed into their spacious walk-in closet and exited with a gray and black jogging suit in his hands. He quickly dressed before he went back into the closet to search for his white sneakers. He ignored his wife’s juvenile pouting while he put on his shoes. She was such a snobbish, self-centered bitch. Their three children were far more mature than her childish ass. Did he want to kick Josiah Bishop’s ass? Hell yeah! But he refused to do it by trashing the man’s wife.
Dendrick picked up his keys and wallet from the dresser and headed for the door.
“Where the hell are you going?”
“I need a drink.”
“We have a full, goddamn bar downstairs, so where are you really going, Denny? You must think I’m a fool!”
Dendrick shook his head and laughed. “Only fools plot to get what they don’t deserve.” He slammed the door and jogged down the stairs. It would be a platinum night after all.
* * *
“I got it, Mrs. Lomax!”
“You do?”
“Yes, ma’am. It’s Serenity Springs Rehabilitation and Mental Health Center in White Sulphur Springs, Montana. That’s the only facility of that kind in the mountains up there.”
Charmaine Lomax took a long drag on her cigarette as she paced the floor in her home office. She blew out a stream of smoke before she gulped down a mouthful of brandy. “Do you have the Tracfone?”
“Yes.”
“And you know what to say, right?”
“I sure do.”
“Okay. Make the call.”
* * *
Jeremiah slid onto
the bench inside the booth across from his surprise lunch date. “What’s up, stranger? I haven’t seen you in three or four full moons. You’re looking chocolatey delicious, girl. I may just have to lick you for dessert.”
“You’re still crazy as hell. But . . . um . . . You may owe me a good licking after I tell you why I called and asked you to meet me here.”
“You’ve got my attention, baby.”
“I received a strange phone call after my morning show. It was from some anonymous chick with a tip on a potential scoop. She was adamant about me looking into the story and reporting on it as soon as possible.”
“Okay. I’m going to assume that this has something to do with my brother, right?”
“You’re kind of right. The tip definitely involves your brother, but it focuses more on his wife, J.”
Fuck! Even after he sends the bitch off to druggie boot camp, she’s still causing problems! “Go ahead and give it to me straight, Quay. No chaser. No bullshit.”
“The chick claims that your sister-in-law has been MIA on the campaign scene because she’s on drugs. And . . . She swears that the mayor sent his wife away to Serenity Springs Rehabilitation and Mental Health Center up in the mountains of Montana.”
“What if it’s true? Are you going to run with the story?”
“If I was going to do that, I wouldn’t have called you. I would be at the station with my team researching and writing. I came here to give you a head’s-up so that you can protect your brother and his daughters.”
Jeremiah nodded. “Thanks, Quay. I owe you big time.”
She licked her lips. “You damn sure do owe me, Negro. This story would’ve been major for me. Shit, I could’ve been the next Tamron Hall or Joy Reid if I had run with the tip. But I started reminiscing about all the good times we used to have. My conscience wouldn’t let me do it.”
“We can have a good time tonight if you’re down with it.”
“You don’t have time for me tonight, handsome. Just because I didn’t pounce on the story, it doesn’t mean that some other reporter at another station won’t. You, your brother, and his crew better get ahead of this. If that heifer called me, I guarantee you she’ll call someone else.”
Jeremiah rubbed his temples. “How do you suggest we handle it?”
“Is it true, J? Is your sister-in-law in a drug rehab center in Montana?”
“You already know the answer.”
“Okay. Mayor Bishop needs to have his publicist prepare and deliver a statement on his behalf right away. I don’t want him to do a press conference because it needs to appear that he’s too broken to talk about it or answer any questions. The statement has to be sincere and filled with emotional content and humility. Women like that kind of shit. Their hearts will bleed for him, and most of them will want to fuck him to sleep to comfort him. And men will respect him for being a loyal family man.”
“Do you really think so?”
“Hell yeah! Mayor Josiah Bishop will be a hero in everybody’s eyes. He’s a political giant, running a major Southern city while seeking reelection. And he’s doing it all alone while caring for his two little angelic daughters because his wife is away in a drug rehab center in Montana. Sympathy will pour in from all over the city. His poll numbers are going to shoot off of the meter.”
“I hope so.”
“Trust me on this.” Quay reached across the table and placed her hand on top of his. “Just make sure the mayor gets his wife to sign a medical release consent form permitting him to air out her dirty laundry to the public. Those HIPPA laws ain’t no joke. Do you think your sister-in-law will sign the form?”
“She better sign it because she owes JoJo royally. This shit that he’s going through is her fault. If she weren’t on drugs, my brother’s life would be squeaky clean. I hate the day he ever met that b—”
“J!”
Jeremiah exhaled audibly. “I’m sorry, but that woman makes my ass itch.”
“Just tell your brother to secure the medical consent release form, have his publicist compose a solid statement, and make sure it goes live as soon as possible.”
Chapter Twenty-nine
“Good morning, everyone. My name is Geisel Arrington, and I serve as publicist and media consultant for the Honorable Josiah J. Bishop, mayor of the city of Atlanta. On behalf of Mayor Bishop, I would like to thank all of you for coming on such short notice. Each of you members of the press was invited here this morning at the request of the mayor for an important announcement that he deems necessary and urgent. In an effort to maintain transparency between the mayor and the citizens of Atlanta, as promised during his first bid for the office he now holds, he has decided to make some very personal, painful information public at this time. Thus I quote:
It is with a heavy heart and deep humility that I inform you, my fellow citizens of Atlanta, that as of September the twenty-second of this year, my beloved wife, Mrs. Mink Sinclair Bishop, was admitted to a long-term drug rehabilitation and mental health facility in an undisclosed location in the United States. The reason for this is due to her continuous, yet hard-fought battle with substance abuse. Although my family, close friends, and I are deeply concerned about my wife’s illness, we are equally optimistic about her recovery because our faith sustains us. At this time, my family and I request privacy regarding my wife’s health. We humbly solicit your prayers and well wishes. Thank you for your understanding.
Sincerely,
Mayor Josiah J. Bishop
“I decline questions at this time. Again, thank you all for coming. The press conference is now over.”
“Mrs. Arrington! Mrs. Arrington!” a female reporter shouted with a microphone in her hand. “When will you take questions, ma’am?”
“Is Mrs. Bishop addicted to prescription drugs?”
An older male reporter snapped a picture of Geisel. “How long has the first lady been an addict?”
“Why didn’t Mayor Bishop make the announcement?” Someone yelled out from the back of the room.
Geisel continued her brisk walk up the aisle of the atrium without a word, leaving a throng of media vultures yelling at her back. She was flanked protectively by Josiah’s staffers and other employees with the exception of Jeremiah and Gypsie. They were with the mayor upstairs inside his office at city hall watching it all go down on TV like the rest of Atlantans. Rev and Myrlie were there also supporting their son. The small group watched in silence as reporters ran after Geisel firing questions at her until she entered an elevator and the doors close behind her.
Jeremiah picked up the remote control from Josiah’s desk and turned off the television. No one spoke immediately. The quietness lingered, and everybody remained perfectly still. Finally, Rev stood from the love seat he’d been sharing with his wife. He walked over to Josiah who was sitting behind his massive cherry wood desk with his chin resting in the palm of his hand.
“Everything is going to be all right, JoJo.” Rev gripped his son’s shoulder.
Unable to respond verbally, Josiah buried his face in his father’s side and wept. For the first time since Jeremiah had delivered him the shocking news that his darkest family secret had been discovered, he succumbed to his pain. Initially, he was livid and wanted to know who had violated his family’s privacy and why. Then fear followed. He was afraid of how the publicity of Mink’s drug addiction would affect Gem and Treasure. Children could be so cruel. No one knew that better than the Bishop twins. Josiah could recall many times that he and Jeremiah had been teased and picked on as young boys because they were preacher’s kids, better known as PKs. He would bet his life that if Gem and Treasure had a choice between a preacher dad and a junkie mom, they’d quote Bible verses, speak in tongues, and beat tambourines all day long.
After Josiah was finally able to reel in his emotions, he raised his head and looked around the room. The first person in his line of vision was Gypsie. From the sad expression on her face and her bloodshot eyes, she appeared just as upset as he
was. She was crying, and her body was trembling terribly. Josiah hated that he had pulled her into his crazy world. Although it had never been his intent, their hearts had somehow connected. But even in this low and uncertain moment in his life, Josiah was sure that his love and commitment for Mink remained intact.
* * *
Mink anxiously paced back and forth in her elaborately furnished and decorated private room at the rehab facility. Her thoughts were on her two babies. She figured that Josiah’s publicist had done the press conference by now, and the entire city of Atlanta knew her secret. Tears pooled in her eyes just thinking about the noonday and evening TV news reports on all of the major local channels. The radio shows were probably popping off as well.
Quite naturally, Mink had signed the medical consent form, granting Josiah permission to go public with her condition, but she’d only done so because she felt she had no other choice. Like thousands of times in the past, she had agreed to do something she really hadn’t wanted to do just to please someone else. Mink had truly believed that she owed it to Josiah because of the predicament her drug problem had placed him in politically. She was an addict for sure, but no one could ever call her selfish.
All her life she had made sacrifices and given up her will for the people she loved. So, yesterday, when Josiah called and told her about the situation involving the anonymous culprit that wished to expose her secret drug dependency to hurt his chances at being reelected, she did what had been expected of her, as usual. Without hesitation, she used her fingertip to scribble her electronic signature on a medical release consent form his office had sent via email in a PDF file. There was no way that she was going to allow someone to rob Josiah of his dream. So, she’d done what she had to do, all for the sake of love for her husband and her commitment to him.
Mink sat down on the bed and rubbed her hands up and down her arms against the chill in the room. She had been quite irritable for the last few days because she hadn’t snorted any cocaine or popped any Ecstasy tablets in nearly a week. Hell, Greg hadn’t even slipped her a sip of alcohol. He was a brick-wall motherfucker. Whenever he decided on something, he stuck with his plan. And his current plan was to keep her clean of all substances until after Josiah and the girls’ visit this upcoming weekend. He didn’t want to risk losing his job, but that’s exactly what would happen if anyone were ever to discover that he had been supplying her with drugs and alcohol. So, he had cut off Mink’s fixes several days ago to prepare her for her pending weekend visit with her family. She had to pass a drug screening before they arrived. Otherwise, the visit would not take place.