Satin Nights

by Karen E. Quinones Miller

  Regina and Tamika shared an uncomfortable look, then both glanced over at Yvonne, awaiting her response to Puddin’s remark. Regina’s eyes widened when Yvonne simply shot Puddin’ a dirty look and said nothing. Damn! Yvonne musta fessed up to Puddin’ that she’s gonna get back with him. She cleared her throat and looked at Tamika again before speaking.

  “Hey, Yvonne, you know the word out is that Robert didn’t quit his job, but that he got fired.”

  “Yeah, well, whatever,” Yvonne said as she reached for the remote control on the coffee table, then clicked the television back on.

  Regina nudged Tamika. “You’re not even going to ask why?” she asked Yvonne.

  “What the fuck do I care?” came the answer.

  Regina noticed that Puddin’ had dropped her shoulder bag to the floor and sat back down on the love seat. “What’s going on?” she asked as she crossed her long legs.

  Regina took a deep breath. “Yvonne, you’re not going to believe this, but Robert’s smoking dust.”

  “Get the fuck outta here,” Puddin’ said in almost a whisper.

  “What?” Yvonne threw the remote on the coffee table. “Where did you hear some stupid shit like that?”

  It was Tamika who answered. “David told me about a week ago. And just so you know, he didn’t leave his wife, she threw him out after she found out he drained his kids’ trust funds.” Tamika wrung her hands as she talked. “I didn’t think to mention it to you because I didn’t know you two were still in contact.”

  “Oh come on,” Yvonne said with a wave of her hand, “that bitch is probably just making all that shit up because she’s mad he finally kicked her to the curb.”

  “Naw, sorry, Yvonne, but I called Charles and verified it this afternoon,” Regina piped in. “He said that most of Robert’s friends had cut him off because he was getting crazy with the stuff. And rumor is that his law firm fired him because he embezzled about sixty thousand.”

  “Sixty grand?” Puddin’ let out a whistle. “That’s a whole helluva lot of dust. You sure that’s all he’s using?”

  “Well, this is the first I’ve heard of any of this shit.” Yvonne slapped her hands on the arms of her swivel chair and started swaying around. “And I’m not saying I don’t believe you guys, but at the same time, I’m just finding all this really, really hard to believe. I mean, I musta talked to him a hundred times over the last two weeks, and he sounded perfectly fine to me. And I know Robert takes a drink every now and again, but I ain’t never known him to do any drugs. Not even marijuana. And now you’re telling me he’s a dusthead? I just find this shit hard to believe.”

  “Well, if you want to, you can call David yourself and talk to him,” Tamika said. “You know that was his boy when him, Charles, and Robert were all at law school together, but when Robert asked him if he could join his practice, he turned him down.”

  Yvonne snorted and said in a low voice, “Some friend.”

  Tamika’s jaw tightened. “I don’t know how you can say that. It’s not like he’s turning his back on Robert, but he doesn’t want a dusthead who stole from his last firm working with him. And you know what? I think he’s right.”

  “Ooh, look at little Tamika basing up.” Puddin’ chuckled. “You should know better than trying to bust on her man like that.”

  “You know what?” Yvonne stood up. “I gotta go over to my mother’s house to run some errands for her. I’ll walk y’all downstairs.”

  What the hell kind of errands does Mama Tee need done at nine o’clock at night? Regina thought. Yvonne’s trying to cut and run. Out loud she said, “Well, Tamika and I aren’t doing anything. You want us to run with you?”

  “Nope. I got this.” Yvonne walked over to the coffee table and picked up the remote and clicked the television off. “Y’all ready?”

  “Vonne, why don’t you call Mama Tee and see if you can take care of her stuff tomorrow?” Puddin’ asked as gently as possible for Puddin’. “Come on and hang out with me tonight. I’ll pick up Usher, and you can pick up 50 Cent. We both can get some of that hip-hop cash.”

  “No, I gotta go take care of business,” Yvonne said sharply. “Y’all ready or not?”

  chapter five

  You’ve really outdone yourself, Regina. That was one birthday party Camille won’t forget.”

  “She’d better not,” Regina grumbled as she slouched farther down on the love seat and kicked off her shoes. “I swear, Charles, those kids drove me crazy. I thought capping it at ten kids would make it easier to handle, but I feel like there were a hundred kids running around the park screaming, jumping up and down, falling and scraping knees, and crying ’cause they didn’t think they got enough time on Barney’s lap.”

  “That was an awful-looking Barney, by the way,” Charles said as he swung his feet up so that he was lying on the couch. “Looked like he had fleas or something.”

  “The kids loved him, thank God, and that’s what counts,” Regina said with a sigh.

  “Yeah, Camille was still mumbling his name in her sleep when I put her in her bed. That girl is knocked out for the night, you know.”

  “Yeah, well, I can use the break. It’s not even six o’clock and I feel like it’s past midnight, I’m so tired.”

  Regina sat up and stretched, then looked over at Charles. Even as worn-out as he was, the man looked good. His six-foot frame was just as trim and fit as it was when she first met him, and the shiny dark mustache he had grown was in fine contrast to his almond-colored skin. And now that he had let his hair grow out a bit, his protruding ears weren’t as noticeable—not that they ever really detracted from his looks.

  “Boy, I know you don’t have your feet up on my couch,” she said as she threw a pillow at him, then ducked just in time when he threw it back at her.

  “Let’s go get something to eat. I know I promised to take you to dinner Thursday, but since I couldn’t break away to get to New York until today, let’s do it now.” Charles yawned. “Feel like Italian?”

  “You really wanna wake your daughter up to take her with us?” Regina said with a grin.

  “Dear Lord no.” Charles grinned back. “And I probably couldn’t wake her up if I wanted to. Wanna do takeout, then?”

  Regina paused. What she really wanted to do was go to sleep, but at the same time, she really didn’t want Charles to leave just yet, especially since it was so evident he wanted to stick around for a while. Probably, she figured, because he still wanted to talk to her about whatever it was he was alluding to on the phone the week before. And she really wanted to find out what it was. The suspense was killing her. “Yeah, I could go for a little something something. Maybe Chinese? I’ve got a menu around here for a place that delivers.”

  “No, that’s okay,” Charles said as he stood up. “Unless you know a liquor store that delivers.”

  “A liquor store?”

  “Yeah, I thought we might have some champagne.”

  Hmmm . . . whatever this little secret is, it must be good, Regina thought. Out loud she said, “I still have that magnum of Moët you sent me for my birthday. How about we break that open?”

  “Is it chilled?” Charles asked.

  “Been in the fridge since you gave it to me back in June.”

  “Have I told you lately that I love you?” Charles asked as he leaned back on the couch. “Pass me the menu, and I’ll make that call.”

  “So, okay, remember when I said that I was kicking around an idea that I wanted to talk to you about?” Charles asked as he served himself another portion of Hunan duck.

  “Of course,” Regina answered expectantly.

  “Okay, here it is.” Charles paused, then let out a deep breath. “I’m considering running for the U.S. Senate.”

  Regina blinked a couple of times and leaned back into the couch. “Get the fuck out of here,” she said in a low voice.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Sorry,” Regina said quickly. “I mean, well, wow! I mea
n, how long have you been thinking about this?”

  “Just a couple of months.” Charles chewed his lip as he talked. “Right after old man Spetrum announced that he isn’t running for a seventh term, leaving the office vacant and pretty much for the taking. And let’s face it, one of the big things I have going for me is negotiating that hostage deal in Afghanistan last year. That’s given me a wave of popularity that I’d be foolish not to take advantage of, wouldn’t you agree?”

  Regina nodded. Charles had made the cover of every newsmagazine and been on all of the major Sunday morning talk shows after bringing home twelve soldiers who had been captured by the Taliban. Especially when it was found out that Charles had promised the Taliban nothing in return for the hostages besides the possibility that the United States would be willing to sit down across the table from them at some point in time. Many of the liberal news media outlets were already touting Charles as the first real potential African-American presidential candidate—though that really didn’t mean much, since they had awarded that label to every African-American from Colin Powell to Barack Obama.

  “I’ve already put out a couple of feelers, and I think I’d have some pretty strong support from party officials. They all think it would be a long shot, because you know Pennsylvania hasn’t had a Democratic senator in almost twenty years. And at thirty-one I would be the youngest person elected to the Senate. But I think they’re all keeping in mind that I was a long shot when I first ran for Congress, and we managed to pull that through.”

  Regina nodded again, remembering all too well. They had been married only a few months when a group of local politicians approached him about running for the House of Representatives. The campaign had gone well at first, but then his opponent, Richard Davis, found out about Regina’s past—her shoplifting, her sugar daddies, her shooting—and leaked the information to the press. All hell had broken loose. Charles’s campaign rushed to do damage control, and he was successful in his election run, but the ordeal had put a fatal strain on their marriage. That and, of course, Charles’s affair with an old flame.

  “I wanted to talk to you, though, before I made a final decision,” Charles was saying. “Because you know this is going to affect you and Camille as well. I mean, of course, I wouldn’t expect you to come out and campaign for me or anything.” He paused and grinned. “I would appreciate your vote, though.”

  “Charles,” Regina said slowly, “you do realize that my past is probably going to come up again, right?”

  Charles nodded. “I do. But it won’t be too damaging, since we’re no longer married.”

  “No?”

  “No.” Charles shook his head. “And I think we can handle it the same way we did before—turn it to our advantage. I really believe the whole thing might have actually won me some votes. Made me seem more human.”

  Regina stood up and walked to the window, fingering her chin. “Yeah, but that was for the House. This might be a lot different. You only had to win over people in that congressional district, which is pretty liberal. Running for the Senate means you’d have to win votes statewide, and some of the cities in upstate Pennsylvania are extremely conservative. Pennsylvania might not be quite as bad as Mississippi, but remember, they’ve never sent an African-American to the Senate. My past is not going to play too well in Altoona, honey.”

  “Yeah, I thought about that. But—”

  Regina cut him off. “And remember, too, if you do win the Democratic primary, there’s a good chance you might get national media coverage, which would mean even more possible exposure of my past. I mean, you’d be only like the third African-American elected a U.S. senator.”

  “Yeah, well, since Reconstruction, but I did think about that, too.”

  “And?”

  “And I think it’s going to be hard, but, Regina, I can still win the election.”

  Regina walked over and sat in a chair facing Charles. “Really? Is that a fact?” she said slowly. “And what about—”

  “What about you?” Charles finished the question for her. “That’s why I’m coming to you.” He leaned forward and grabbed her knees tightly. “This is something I really want to do, but there’s no way I will if you think it’s going to hurt you or Camille.”

  “I don’t know, Charles. I don’t think it would be a good . . .” Regina paused. “You know what? I guess, well, why not, huh?” She paused again. “I don’t know, Charles. Let me think about it, okay?”

  “Fair enough,” Charles said, releasing his grip on Regina’s knees. “I can’t ask for more than that.”

  They sat in silence for a few minutes, not looking at each other.

  “Well, how about we don’t break open that champagne tonight, then?” Charles said finally. “I could use a drink, though. Do you have any Scotch?”

  Regina nodded and got up to fix them both a stiff drink, when the telephone rang.

  “Hello,” she said rather distractedly.

  “Hey you,” the voice on the other end said.

  “Oh,” Regina said breathlessly as she recognized Little Joe’s voice and his usual telephone greeting. “Hey you back. How you doing? I thought you lost my number or something.”

  “Been a little busy but doing okay. What you doing? Can you get out tonight?”

  “You’ve got some nerve,” Regina said in a teasing voice before remembering Charles was in the room. She looked over at him and noticed he was so busy looking the other way that he had to be listening intently. “Um, no,” she said into the telephone. “I really can’t. And I, uh, really can’t talk right now.”

  “Why? Your man there?” Little Joe said with a chuckle.

  “Very funny,” Regina said, trying to keep her voice casual. “But could you call me back in a little bit?”

  “Yeah. No problem.”

  She started to say “Make sure you do,” but caught herself. She didn’t want to sound desperate.

  “Okay, then,” she said instead.

  “About an hour, then?”

  “Yeah, that’ll be fine.”

  “Okay,” Little Joe said before hanging up without saying good-bye, which, Regina remembered, was how he usually ended telephone conversations.

  She hung up and turned toward Charles with a weak smile. “I’m sorry. Let me get those drinks.”

  “No, that’s okay,” Charles said, looking at his watch. “I need to get out of here, anyway. So who was that on the phone?”

  She wanted to tell him that it was none of his business, but she was feeling a little too guilty. Which, she reminded herself, was silly. After all, she and Charles had been divorced for about four years. “It was just an old friend,” she said simply.

  “Must be a pretty good old friend,” Charles said as he put on his jacket. “It’s been quite a while since you used that tone of voice with me.”

  “Charles . . .”

  “No problem. I know it’s none of my business.” Charles leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. “I’m staying at the Plaza until Monday morning. Call me if you want to talk, okay?”

  Regina rushed to the telephone after he left and looked at the number on the caller ID. It was a 917 number, which meant it was probably a cell phone. She hesitated a moment, then punched in the number.

  “Hey you,” Little Joe said.

  “Hey you back. How’d you know it was me?” Regina said as she settled into the couch.

  “Same way you got this number. Caller ID. You got rid of your man already?”

  “Please. That was not my man,” Regina replied.

  “You got a man?” Little Joe demanded.

  “None of your business. Are you still married?”

  “None of yours. Now, can you get out tonight? I wanna take you to dinner.”

  “Aw, I wish I could, but I don’t have a babysitter.”

  “Call your girlfriend. The one you was with the other day.”

  “Tamika? I can’t. She’s home with her own kids.”

  “Then drop y
our daughter over there. Come on, girl. I wanna see you. We got a lotta catching up to do.”

  “You still didn’t tell me if you’re still married.”

  “Come out to dinner with me and find out,” Little Joe taunted.

  Regina started thinking quickly. She wasn’t tired anymore, and she really wanted to see Little Joe. It had taken him almost a week to finally call, and she didn’t want to wait another week before talking to him again. “Let me call my niece and get right back to you, okay?”

  “Okay. Hurry up, though.” The phone went dead.

  He’s got a whole helluva lot of nerve calling me like this at the last minute and expecting me to just figure out a way to do what he wants me to do, Regina thought as she once again punched numbers into the telephone.

  “Hey, Ray-Ray? Can you do me a favor, sweetie?”

  chapter six

  She’d been careful picking out her outfit—a pale yellow silk blouse and knee-length black suede skirt, topped with a black suede jacket—but still, she felt self-conscious as she entered the Flash Inn to meet Little Joe. It had been one of their favorite restaurants back in the day, and Little Joe even had his own table, which management kept vacant just in case he decided to show up. It was still a classy place, though a little worn from the years. The wallpaper was a little faded, and the clientele was a little older, but then, so was she.

  She suddenly found herself comparing her present-day image to her fifteen-year-old former self. She still looked good, she thought, patting her waist and sucking in her slight belly, but she certainly didn’t look like the teenager Little Joe had been so enamored with. He didn’t seem to mind when he saw her in the street with Camille a week before, but perhaps he would while sitting across from her at a dinner table.

  “And may I help you, miss?” the tuxedoed maître d’ said in a slight French accent that she assumed was Haitian.

  “I’m actually meeting someone,” Regina answered as she quickly scanned the restaurant for Little Joe. “I’m here a few minutes early.”