Unholy Matrimony

by Brenda Barrett

  Phoebe smiled when she opened the door. She liked Pinky. She had an easy way about her, almost like her brother.

  “Hey.” Charles greeted Phoebe. He was handsomely dressed in black. “She is spending the week with me; apparently she was fired from her job today.”

  Pinky growled, “Hi Phoebe. Your friend, Chris Donahue, is the most infuriating man on the entire planet.”

  “Come on in,” Phoebe murmured. “Correction though; last I checked, Chris was not my friend.”

  “All I did,” Pinky fumed walking in, “was ask him why is he still so hung up on Kelly Palmer? That's all. The man actually told me that I passed my place and gave me the boot.”

  “From the hotel?” Phoebe asked curiously. “I set up the Scrabble in the kitchen, come this way.” They followed Phoebe.

  “No,” Pinky said still miffed. “The original receptionist came back for her job and he offered me a job at his Bluffs Head mansion as a housekeeper. I get time off for school and the pay was good so I said yes. But he is so strung out on Kelly that I told him to get a grip. He fired me because of that.”

  She threw her hands in the air. “I probably shouldn't even be telling you this. I signed a confidentiality agreement that I would not discuss him with anyone for up to three years after my employment terminated. But he already booted me. What can he do now, huh? Send me to gossipers’ prison?”

  Phoebe looked at her as she sat in a huff on the chair at the table. She admired Pinky’s long multicolored dress that hugged her petite figure, and her blond hair that sported a spiky hair cut that was brushed to the front, and smirked, “You are the prettiest housekeeper I have ever seen.”

  Pinky rolled her eyes. “So?”

  “So, maybe Chris Donahue is getting over Kelly and not handling it well. Just saying.”

  Charles groaned. “All I've been hearing since she got home is how evil Chris Donahue is. Can we talk about something else?”

  “Well we could talk about the fact that this is Kelly's house,” Phoebe said looking at Pinky closely.

  “It is?” Pinky said wonderingly. “Can I look around?”

  “She didn't leave any pictures or anything like that lying around,” Phoebe said grinning at Pinky. “Somebody likes their boss and is curious about his lady love.”

  Pinky bit her lip. “Okay, we really need to change the topic.”

  The doorbell rang at the same time and Phoebe went to answer it. It was Tanya. She had her sisterlocks out, and they were almost to her waist. She was wearing a summer dress with bird patterns all over it.

  “You look pretty,” Phoebe said, “and your hair has grown. I never noticed how long it was before.”

  “Where is he?” Tanya asked eagerly.

  “My guests have no manners.” Phoebe ushered her into the kitchen. “Tanya Smart, meet Charles and Pinky Black.”

  “Oh, four of us for Scrabble,” Charles said, grinning at Tanya. “This will be fun.” And it was fun. Pinky played snarky words and called Chris every one she could think of.

  Charles kept on asking Tanya questions about herself and when he found out that she loved to sing he invited her to a band practice.

  “We are looking for a female lead,” he said. “Maybe you can come and show us what you have got.”

  Phoebe looked at them. When they started talking, she and Pinky were all but invisible. This was probably how it should be. She felt a faint wrench when she thought about Charles and Tanya, but then she convinced herself that she was happier being single anyway.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  One month after Phoebe moved into Kelly's house, she felt pleased with herself. She had a system going on that was truly working. Tanya picked her up in the mornings to go to work and Erica picked her up to go to church.

  So what if she felt lonely at the oddest times, like on Wednesday when she was having lunch with Tanya and she was gushing over Charles and his friends and how great a time they were having?

  On Thursday when Charles called to tell her, with a besotted tone in his voice, that he thought Tanya was a great girl, or on Friday when out of sheer loneliness she called Ezekiel's phone and his assistant answered saying he was indisposed.

  Phoebe was especially depressed at that; she had never really missed Ezekiel until he left her alone. She sighed when she got home on Friday evening. There was a big open weekend in front of her, but she had no one to spend it with.

  She jumped when her phone rang and picked it up dejectedly. The ID on the phone said private number.

  “Hello,” she answered gingerly—she hated taking calls from private numbers.

  “Phoebe.” His voice was smooth and smoky.

  “Ezekiel,” Phoebe whispered, feeling excited and trembly all at the same time.

  “Sounds like you missed me,” he chuckled

  “I actually do,” Phoebe said, a big grin on her face. “I know we are no longer together, but I hadn't heard from you in sooo long that I thought you had forgotten me.”

  “No I haven't. I'll never forget you.”

  Phoebe flushed at that. “I'll never forget you either.”

  “I am in Switzerland,” Ezekiel's voice sounded smooth as honey. “I had something to take care of. I will probably be here for six months or more.”

  That was the start of their daily phone calls; they spoke everyday, sometimes for hours. Phoebe found herself rushing to go home and do her chores so that she could be free for the nightly calls.

  It had become such an obsession for her that she kept looking at her watch while she was hanging out with Erica and Tanya after church.

  “Why are you looking at your watch so eagerly?” Erica asked her for the fourth time.

  “It's nothing.” Phoebe grinned secretly.

  “Now listen, Missy,” Erica said, “you know I can't stand a secret. What is going on?”

  Phoebe giggled. “It's just that I’ve been talking to Ezekiel every night for the past couple of weeks. I want to go home and freshen up and get into bed before he calls. I especially like when all the lights are off and there's just the two of us in the dark.”

  Tanya's eyes widened. “Are you serious? You back with Ezekiel Hoppings?”

  Phoebe smirked. “I don't know. We just talk. We talk about everything and nothing. I even have him listening to music with me over the phone. I can't explain it; he has become like a good friend, you know,” she blushed, and her ears turned red, “you know.”

  Erica clapped her hand over her mouth. “I can't believe it! Do you love him?”

  Phoebe wailed, “I don't know. I think I am addicted to him, like one would be addicted to a radio program. You know you can't get enough of it and you eagerly wait for the next hit.”

  “She loves him,” Tanya said dryly. “She loves her ugly, rich guy.”

  “Can we leave yet?” Phoebe asked. “Who is dropping me home?”

  “I will,” Tanya said. “I am going down to Vanley's Bar with The Perfect Number. I was going to ask you if you want to come.”

  “No thanks,” Phoebe said impatiently.

  “Can you tear yourself away from Ezekiel on Thursday next week and come to my house for dinner?” Erica asked, “You too Tanya, and bring Charles. It's Caleb's birthday. It will be a nice little party; I invited some of his friends from work along with you guys.”

  “Sure,” Phoebe said, “I'll be there. Charles hardly calls me anymore, Tanya might be the reason.”

  Tanya got into her car, blushing. “Ah the complexities of life and love.”

  Erica grinned. “See y'all next Thursday.”

  *****

  Chris Donahue was at Caleb's party and was standing by himself in a corner beside a bookcase cradling a cup of drinks when Phoebe arrived with Tanya. Caleb's friends were a fun bunch to be around and she was soon involved in a conversation when Chris came and sat beside her. His hazel eyes were more green than brown at the moment and he had a far away look in his eye.

  “Are you sure you want to sit
beside me?” Phoebe asked him when the group had drifted off for more cake. “I might hound you to marry me?”

  Chris looked at her contemplatively. “I never understood that whole stalking thing you did. You were doing it like a woman possessed,” He grinned, “like you had a list or something. One day I swear I saw you rifling through my garbage bin at home.”

  “I had no idea where you lived until the other day I went to Bluffs Head,” Phoebe said smiling. “Besides garbage bins are not my thing. I am sorry about that whole episode. I did have a list. My mother had a ten-point plan to catch you. I didn't even really like you like that.”

  Chris guffawed. “I am sorry too for embarrassing you like that before the entire church. It's just that I couldn't seem to shake you.”

  Phoebe shrugged. “I deserved it. No woman in her right mind should have been so thirsty. I am happy I am back to my senses once more.”

  Chris looked at her again, contemplatively. “So, is Charles Black your boyfriend?”

  “Nope,” Phoebe said, “I am single.”

  Chris shook his head. “What about Ezekiel?”

  Phoebe blushed. “He’s great! But no, we aren't together.”

  “Ah,” Chris took a sip of his drink, “I saw a pause there when I mentioned Ezekiel. He told me you refused to marry him because of your integrity. I’m happy for you, Phoebe.”

  Phoebe flushed. “I belatedly found my principles and shook that particular demon off my back. What about you?” Phoebe asked.

  “Still here alone,” Chris said forlornly.

  “Cheer up,” Phoebe said. “Take it from your former stalker; you are a good catch for one lucky woman.”

  Chris looked at her warmly. “You know Phoebe, you are not too bad.”

  Phoebe grinned. “You are not too bad yourself.”

  The mood was broken when Charles came and sat beside Phoebe on the other side.

  “Want to dance?”

  “Sure,” Phoebe said, joining the young people on the floor.

  They were dancing to some old reggae tunes. Phoebe laughed at Charles' antics; he was gyrating and making crazy faces, and the other dancers were cheering him on.

  “I hardly see you these days, what are you up to?” They danced to the balcony and Phoebe leaned on the rails, inhaling the night air.

  Charles looked at Phoebe. “I've been spending lots of time practicing with the band.”

  “And hanging out with the new female singer,” Phoebe prompted gently.

  “I don't know how it happened,” Charles said painfully, “but one moment I was so hotly in love with you and the next thing I know, I was in love with Tanya. But it's not the same. With her, it's different. It's like we move to the same beat.” He looked down at the ground sheepishly. “I feel like such a dog.”

  Phoebe laughed. “Promise me one thing.”

  “What?” Charles asked eagerly,

  “Don't you stop your plans to improve, and never stop living life simply. It's nice to find someone with whom you move to the same beat, huh?”

  Charles smiled in relief. “It is…” then he knitted his brow. “You are taking this well. I thought you and I had a thing going on, especially after you ditched Ezekiel Hoppings.”

  “I liked kissing you,” Phoebe said, blushing. “Okay, I really enjoyed it, but I didn't see us moving to the same beat, you understand?”

  Charles nodded. “Perfectly. It's a relief to get that cleared up, because I want to kiss Tanya, and I was feeling a tad bit guilty about you. I can stop torturing myself now.”

  Phoebe smiled. “Well you have my blessing. I introduced you two on purpose, by the way. Tanya really wanted to meet you.”

  “Is that so?” Charles asked, a pleased look on his face. “Wait...does this mean that we can't play Scrabble together again?”

  “Oh no,” Phoebe wagged her finger at him, “come over any day you have some free time. Call before you come by, though.”

  *****

  After Phoebe got in that night, her phone rang at eleven thirty.

  “How was the party?” Ezekiel's smooth honey voice was enough to make her heart pick up speed.

  She gave him a run down, and they conversed for long minutes. Phoebe finally acknowledged to herself after he hung up the phone that she wasn’t merely addicted to Ezekiel Hoppings' voice, but that she loved him. Admitting it to herself was giving her quite the shock. She sat on the bed and contemplated it.

  It definitely was not one of those love at first sight situations because Ezekiel was not handsome. It wasn't even the fact that he was rich, she had gotten past that whole rich handsome guy thing.

  She loved him because they were friends. She could tell him anything; even those deep dark secrets about herself that she thought were terrible; like the fact that she was reared to be a gold-digger, and the fact that she stalked Chris Donahue for two long months, and how she would approach men to find out what kind of car they drove. He heard her out and didn't judge.

  He even shared his secrets with her too, like the fact that he was afraid of plastic surgery because of his two-year stay in hospital when the doctor's thought he would die, and that he became a Christian because during his stay, at the hospital, he dreamt of a kindly man who kept telling him that Jesus was waiting to get to know him.

  She fervently wished that she could see him and tell him to his dear battered face that she loved him. It was a wondrous feeling, this love thing. She curled up in her bed and tried to analyze it. It wasn't just physical attraction though. That kiss that they shared at his dinner kept replaying in her mind.

  Indeed it had taken up a good part of thoughts lately. She wanted more kisses from him, and it didn’t matter how he looked, or that he had scars. She just wanted him near. She wished he'd hurry up with his business in Switzerland so that she could tell him face to face that she loved him.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Ezekiel always played to win and during the six months he spent in Switzerland he made sure that he kept Phoebe close by telephone. He had racked up quite a phone bill from the private facility in which he stayed while he recuperated from surgery.

  He hadn’t seen her for seven whole months and his longing to see her, to touch her was intense.

  A few months ago he would have looked in the mirror at the stranger looking back at him and fretfully wonder if he had made the right decision. His business acquaintances wouldn’t recognize him now. Even his assistant, Nathan, had been shocked at his transformation. Ezekiel had gotten over the urge, a few weeks earlier, of constantly touching his jaw to feel the smoothness of his skin.

  Neville Tate had even removed the stains from his teeth. He had wanted to go to Jamaica as soon as his transformation was complete, but Nathan had insisted that they take his face out on a test drive.

  They went to a cafe and the response to him was overwhelmingly good. Women who would not give him a second glance before had actually smiled at him and given him coquettish looks under their eyelashes. It was ego boosting and only made him want to go to Jamaica even more.

  He sat in Nathan's office waiting for him to stop prodding and cooing over his face.

  “Yup, you are fit to leave,” Nathan said proudly. “I declare your cosmetic procedures to be successful. You are such a handsome fella.”

  “Thanks,” Ezekiel said gruffly. “Now I need to go home and see my girl.”

  Nathan laughed. “She won't recognize you from the battered face I had to sort out.”

  Ezekiel thought about that all the way to Jamaica. How would he do this? For all the time he was at the clinic, he never told Phoebe what he was doing, and so he wondered how he should introduce his transformation to Phoebe.

  *****

  Phoebe was tidying her desk to go to lunch; a slight feeling of depression had dogged her all week. It seemed as if everybody's life was moving on and falling into place nicely.

  Erica was planning for her baby's arrival in one month, and all she did was talk baby talk; she mad
e a note to herself: if she was ever blessed to conceive a child, she wouldn’t bore people to tears about every little development of her fetus, like Erica did.

  Tanya was so involved with her newly found music career and her involvement with Charles that she hardly saw either of them.

  Even her mother was scarce these days. Phoebe had called Ezekiel's aunt, at his suggestion, and gotten Nishta a job as a housemother in the new place of safety that they had set up for abused children. Apparently, Nishta had taken to the job like a duck to water. She had several children under her care and she was beginning to realize that her kind of poor was not that bad. There were persons who were much worse off than she could even think.

  Phoebe wished Ezekiel was around; just speaking to him on the phone wasn’t enough any longer and she wished that she hadn't broken up with him. She wished she had somebody to do buddy stuff with, but here she was, back to square one.

  At least this time her unhappiness wasn’t borne out of covetousness. This time she was unhappy because she felt lonely. A deep sort of loneliness that only the person you love could fill. She sighed loudly.

  “That is a loud sigh,” Vanessa popped her head over the cubicle, “feeling down?”

  Phoebe had made nice with her fellow colleagues for the past few months and they had been surprisingly responsive. She now realized that the old adage ‘he who wants friends must show himself friendly’ was right.

  She nodded wanly at Vanessa.

  Vanessa whispered conspiratorially, “If you see the dishy guy that Mr. King was ushering into his office and genuflecting to, you would cheer up.”

  “Oh my gosh, here he comes, tall, caramel, handsome.” She hunkered back down around her desk.

  “I’m not interested.” Phoebe murmured limply. “I would take battered face, sexy voice and cares for me any day over some slick rich guy that’s out for a good time.”