Myrtle got the broom and dustpan from the pantry. “Get out of the way, I’ll clean it up. Sit your clumsy behind down somewhere.”
“I’ll buy you another set of dishes, Auntie.”
“You sho will,” Myrtle said as she swept.
Adonis sat at the table. He and Monique stared fiercely at Arykah. She knew they were glaring in her direction, but refused to give them the satisfaction of looking up. Only one spoonful of mashed potatoes remained on her plate, however, Arykah savored it and made it last until Myrtle joined them all at the table. Then and only then would it be safe to look up.
On Monday morning, Adonis sat at his desk to enjoy a cup of strong black coffee before heading out to a job site. He thought about Boris and what he was going through. He couldn’t understand why Boris would willingly surrender a heavenly treat for a hellish trick. The more Adonis thought about it, Boris’s situation could actually work in his favor. Monique had yet to admit to him that she was totally done with Boris. Now that there was an illegitimate baby about to surface, it could be the pep in her step to run straight into Adonis’s arms.
He tossed and turned all night contemplating whether or not to inform Monique that the man, whose engagement ring she was wearing, was on the verge of becoming a not so proud papa. However, Boris was his cousin, and they shared the same bloodline, so Adonis opted to say nothing. And as Arykah would say, ‘Pregnancy is something that can’t be hidden. Eventually, the whole church will know.’
Adonis decided to sit back, relax and watch the karma and fateful chips fall where they may.
“Good morning, Adonis.”
He looked up to see Dan Thurman, Boris’s supervisor. “Good morning, Mr. Thurman.”
He gave Adonis a sealed white envelope. “Can you make sure Boris gets his paycheck?”
“Why are you giving his check to me?”
“He called in sick this morning. He said he came down with the flu over the weekend and asked if I could give his paycheck to you.”
Boris was gone when Adonis left the house that morning. He assumed Boris got an early start for work. This is the first that Adonis had heard about him having the flu. “Sure, I’ll make sure he gets it.”
When Mr. Thurman left his desk, Adonis called home. It was possible that Boris got halfway to work, then turned around. That way he and Adonis could’ve easily missed each other in passing. After three rings, Monique’s voice filled the telephone line. “You’ve reached the Cortland-Morrison residence. This call is very important to us. Please leave your name, number, and a brief message after the beep, and your call will be returned as soon as possible.”
Adonis could’ve disconnected the call when the voicemail picked up, but he looked forward to hearing Monique’s voice whenever he could. Adonis thought it good that her voice may soon come from a different voicemail in the near future; maybe from a house that he and Monique would share together as husband and wife.
He dialed Boris’s cellular phone and got his voicemail. “Hey, cuz, it’s Adonis. What’s this about you having the flu? Next time you ditch work, let me know. I was almost a lousy cover for you. Anyway, I got your check.”
It took Boris forty-five minutes to come down from his second high. He sat in an alley with his back propped up against a dumpster and his belt tied tightly just above his elbow. He gave Bubblegum another crisp $20 bill, then extended the belted arm forward a third time.
Bubblegum tapped the heroin filled syringe, then inserted the needle into the crease of Boris’s arm. “Somebody sho’ ticked you off, huh? Fifteen bucks is the most you’ve ever spent on this stuff. Not that I’m complaining, but what’s the deal? I mean, it’s been years since you’ve paid me a visit.”
With his vein reloaded, Boris leaned his head back against the dumpster. The blood throughout his entire upper torso became warm. The last time he dealt with drugs was when Monique threatened to leave him for good a year and a half ago ago. His mood swings and carelessness were tearing them apart. Boris swore to her that he’d never touch the stuff again.
“I’m about to be a daddy, man,” Boris said sluggishly.
“That ain’t necessarily a bad thing. You’re gettin’ married anyway, right?”
“Man, Monique left me about a month ago.”
Bubblegum sat next to Boris. “So who’s pregnant?”
“A girl named Kita.”
“Kita Mitchell? The girl who goes to your church?” Bubblegum asked.
With barely opened eyes, Boris looked at Bubblegum. “You know Kita?”
Bubblegum chuckled. “Do I know her? I’ll tell you how well I know Kita. Her birthmark, shaped like a heart, is on her left breast. She has a small mole at the top of her right butt cheek, and if you look on the inside of her upper left thigh, you’ll see a purple hickey. I put it there last night. That’s how well I know Kita.”
The weight of Boris’s own head became too heavy for his shoulders. He freely let it fall to his chest.
Theresa walked into Monique’s office and saw her frantically rumbling through file cabinet drawers. “Good morning, Boss Lady. What are you looking for?”
“My date planner. I have to finalize a couple of out of town trips. Have you seen it?”
“The last time I saw it, you were taking it home so that you and Boris could select a date to view wedding invitations.”
Monique paused. Oh, my God. It was the second week of July, and she had forgotten to cancel the order for her and Boris’s wedding invitations. They were due to arrive that week. She did, however, call the church to alert the secretary that the wedding was off. Another church event could be planned for September 16th.
“Then it’s gotta be at the house.” Monique looked at her wristwatch. It was 9:30 a.m., a time when Boris should be at work. “Theresa, I’m gonna run to the house and get my date planner. I should be back in an hour.”
“I wanna know what you did on your birthday.”
Monique held up her right wrist. “For starters, I got this.”
Theresa gasped at the sparkling diamonds. “Adonis?”
“The one and only. You’re looking at five carats, girlfriend.”
“For five carats, I know you dropped your g-string and gave him some nooky.”
Monique looked at her secretary shamefully. “Do you eat with that mouth, Theresa? Is your mind always in the gutter?”
Theresa rotated the tennis bracelet around Monique’s wrist. “You did something to get five carats.”
Monique put her purse on her shoulder. “Goodbye, Theresa. I’ll be back in an hour.”
“And I’ll be waiting to pick up where we left off.”
Monique waved goodbye to her secretary as the elevator doors closed.
At the electric company, Adonis peeped into his supervisor’s office. “You wanna see me, Jack?”
“Adonis, there was an F-four twister in Detroit last night. It’s been reported that power lines, over a five-mile stretch, are all over the place. The city is soliciting volunteers from northern Illinois, eastern Iowa, and southern Wisconsin. I don’t know the extent of the damage, but what I saw on the news wasn’t pretty. Everything is in total chaos. You’re trained highly for this, and you’re one of the best I’ve got. Joe Cummings is already on board, but he needs a partner. Are you interested?”
There was no hesitation. “I gotta get home and pack a duffle bag. “
As Joe Cummings drove the company van out of the parking lot, Adonis called Monique’s cellular phone. In her hurry to escape Theresa’s interrogation, it sat forgotten on top of her desk. After the third ring, Adonis left a message. “Hey, black beauty. I guess you’re busy. I called to let you know that I’m on my way to Detroit to try and do damage control. I have no clue when I’ll be back. Depending how things are in Motown, I’ll try and call you later. I miss you already.”
Monique pulled into the driveway and pressed the ‘up’ button on the garage door opener that was clipped on her visor. Satisfied that neither Boris nor
Adonis were home, she closed the garage and parked her car in the driveway. On her way to the front door, Monique couldn’t help but notice the neatly mowed lawn. Surely, Adonis was responsible for its dark green texture.
It had been weeks since Monique had seen the inside of her home. She looked around the living room and saw that absolutely nothing had changed. The aroma of Issey Miyake cologne was fresh in the air. Monique had no idea how close she had come to running into Adonis at the house. He had rushed home, packed a duffel bag and was back out the door only five minutes before Monique had arrived.
She glanced at the photos of her and Boris sitting on the mantel above the fireplace. In one photograph, Boris stood behind Monique with his arms wrapped around her waist. Staring at their smiles in happier days, Monique had to admit that in that particular photo, she and Boris looked like a match made in heaven.
She searched the bookshelf next to the entertainment center for her date planner but didn’t see it. She moved to the dining room, but the date planner was nowhere in sight. In the kitchen, Monique saw it was spic and span. Not one dirty dish could be found. Neatly stacked glasses, plates, and utensils were in the dish rack. Monique noticed the old Crisco Oil can that she used to store left over bacon, chicken, and fish grease was no longer on top of the stove. She could smell the freshly waxed floor beneath her feet.
Monique opened the refrigerator and saw a twenty-four pack of Miller’s Genuine Draft, a gallon of drinking water, a pitcher of grape Kool-Aid, and a bucket of chicken on the top shelf. She looked in the bucket and saw a crispy thigh and a wing. On the second and third shelves were carry out containers from at least seven different restaurants. Monique figured the reason the kitchen was so clean was because nobody was cooking anything.
She walked into the second bedroom that was used as a home office and a mini gym. On top of the desk, Monique searched through books, papers, and junk mail, but still couldn’t find her date planner. The only other place it could have been was in the master bedroom. Monique passed the bathroom and saw that it too was spotless. The smell of disinfectant penetrated her nostrils. The toilet seat was up, a sure sign that bachelors resided on the premises.
Unknown to Monique, just before she walked into the master bedroom she had shared with Boris for the past two years, the entry light on the security alarm panel next to the front door lit up.
On the dresser, Monique saw three bottles of perfume she’d left behind. The levels of perfume were lower than she remembered. The bottle of Ralph Lauren was almost empty. She put all three bottles of perfume in her purse. She opened the closet door and saw it was full of Boris’s clothing. Boris had managed to take over Monique’s side of the closet. The space where her blouses, dresses, and slacks once hang had been replaced with gym shoes, jeans, and athletic wear. Had Monique seen any female clothing not belonging to her, she would have introduced them to a pair of scissors.
The dresser drawers she used were empty. Next to the bed that was decorated with a comforter set Monique had never seen before, was a nightstand with her date planner lying on top of it. She fumbled through it before turning around and facing Boris standing in the doorway.
“What’s up?” he asked her.
In the two words he spoke, Monique knew he was as high as a kite. Boris’s eyes were bloodshot red and glassy. His pupils were dilated. Monique hadn’t seen those eyes in over a year. She remembered the dangerous and uncontrollable side of Boris when his veins were loaded. She thought that if she didn’t confront him on his latest drug use, things would remain calm and she could leave the house without a problem arising.
“Nothing. I just came by to get my date planner. Why aren’t you at work?”
“I didn’t feel like going today,” he said. Boris could hardly hold his head up. His speech was slurred, and Monique gave him credit for having enough sense to stay away from live wires.
“Well, I gotta get back to the station,” she stated.
“Who put those rims on your car?”
“What?” She asked the question allotting herself time to answer him.
“Who bought those rims for your car?”
“I did,” she lied.
“What brand are they, Monique?”
She couldn’t answer Boris because she really didn’t know the answer. “I don’t know. I liked them so I bought them.”
“Those are Lowenharts, and you can’t afford them. Who detailed your paint and who bought you new floormats?”
“Why were you roaming through my car, Boris?”
“You got a dude spending money like that on you? You spreading your legs for him?”
“You gave up your right to know my business when you started messing with Kita.”
“Kita? I don’t care about her.”
Monique shrugged her shoulders. “Oh, well, that’s on you. I gotta get back to the office,” she said, but made no attempt to move past him. She wanted him to willingly step aside.
“We can’t talk?”
“There’s nothing to talk about, Boris.” When Monique adjusted her purse strap on her shoulder, Boris caught a glimpse of her sparkling tennis bracelet.
“What the heck is that on your arm?”
Monique didn’t answer. She clutched the date planner against her breast and proceeded to squeeze past Boris standing in the doorway to the bedroom. He grabbed her wrist to examine the diamonds. “Who gave this to you?”
Not only was Boris high, but also drunk as a skunk. Monique smelled stale alcohol on his hot breath. There’s no telling what he’d do to her when he was in that state of mind. She knew she’d better get out of the house. She snatched her arm from his grip. “Let go of my arm. Don’t you ever put your hands on me.”
Boris glared at Monique the way a predator does when it is waiting for just the right time to pounce on its prey and devour it. “Who in the heck are you talking to?”
She allowed him to take her there. “I’m talking to your crazy behind.”
In a split second, Monique was pinned up against the hallway wall by her throat. In no time, though, Boris had gone from being angry to loving Monique. He kissed all over her face.
“I miss you, baby. I miss you so much. Please come back home.”
With all of her might, Monique tried to peel Boris’s fingers, one by one, away from her throat, but she wasn’t strong enough. The more she fought, the tighter his grip became. “Boris, let me go,” she strained to say.
With his free hand, Boris attempted to unbutton Monique’s blouse. “You smell so good.”
“Let me go, Boris.”
He kissed Monique’s neck. “You don’t want me no more? You will always be mine.”
Fear crept into Monique. She knew she had to do something drastic to get Boris off of her. She sent her right knee full force into his groin. He released her and yelled out in pain. He covered his groin with both hands and Monique slapped his face. “Boris, are you crazy?”
He fell to his knees in pain. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
Monique clutched her date planner and ran past Boris, out to her car. She buckled her seatbelt and reached for her cell phone and became horrified that she didn’t have it with her. She realized that she must’ve left it on her desk. She’d just have to call Arykah when she got back to the radio station. She backed out of the driveway and proceeded to head back to the radio station. She turned on the radio and heard Heather Headley singing the second half of her latest release.
“Why you wanna hurt me so bad? I wish I could go back to the day before we met.”
Monique could’ve written that song herself. Was it possible that another woman was going through the same crap with her man? Monique turned the volume up as Heather sang the words that came straight from Monique’s own soul.
Fifteen minutes later, a distraught Monique walked up to Theresa’s desk. “Any messages?”
She saw that Monique was agitated. “Are you all right?”
“I ran into Boris at the house.”
>
“At this hour?”
“He decided not to go to work today. He chose to get drunk and high instead.”
Theresa saw that Monique was anxious as she spoke. “What did he do, Monique? Did he hurt you?”
“No.”
“But he tried to, didn’t he?”
“Theresa, I’m fine. Are there any messages?”
“No messages, but you left your cellular phone on your desk. It rang five minutes after you left.”
Monique went into her office and shut the door behind her. She sat at her desk and listened to Adonis’s message that he’d left on her cell phone, then she dialed his number and got his voicemail.
“Hi, I’m sorry I missed your call. I saw the news this morning. It’s just like you to run to the rescue. Please be careful. I’ll talk to you soon.”
If there was ever a time she needed to be wrapped in Adonis’s arms, it was right then.
Theresa brought Monique a cup of hot lemon tea and sat it on her desk.
“Thank you, Theresa. Can you get me the number of calls that came in from last night’s show? And call the studio and ask Jasper to play “When Sunday Comes” by Darryl Coley. I need to hear that right now.”
Five minutes later, WGOD aired Monique’s request.
Later that afternoon, Theresa pressed the intercom button. “Arykah is on line two.”
Monique picked up the extension. “Hey there.”
“Hey yourself. What time are you getting off today?”
Monique glanced at the clock on the wall. “I won’t be here too much longer. Theresa and I had a lot of paperwork to sort through. How was your day?”
Arykah squealed into the telephone. “I sold two houses today.”
“Congratulations. I might be in the wrong business. Maybe I should go to house-selling school.”
Arykah chuckled. “There is no such thing as house-selling school. You enroll in realty classes. Anyway, I feel like celebrating. What are you doing tonight?”
Monique exhaled. “Spending another celibate evening alone.”
“Monique, you’re celibate by choice.”
A Woman's Worth Page 15
