Counterfeit Wives

by Phillip Thomas Duck

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  Uncle Roscoe said, “This have something to do with them voting candles you left all around in the bathroom?”

  I said, “Votive. Votive candles.”

  “Come again?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  He grunted. No one had hit him, but he sounded like someone had punched him in the gut. I knew that sound.

  I said, “The storm rattled me, okay. I was here all by myself.”

  “Were you?”

  I leaned up on an elbow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Uncle Roscoe’s raspy laugh filled the room. I’d have preferred Alicia Keys or D’Angelo’s baby mama, Angie Stone. Uncle Roscoe said, “Place smelled like loving when me and Jimmy came in. We were surprised seeing as you been up in here alone.”

  My mouth was open, but I was too shocked to speak.

  Uncle Roscoe said, “I askted Esperanza’s brother to check in on you. I take it he did. Boy, did he ever. That’s okay, though. You young, good to see you still got some life in you.”

  Shocked, but I managed, “Asked. Not askted.”

  “What?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Boy got a thing for you,” Uncle Roscoe said. “He got his nose open soonst I put that picture up on its nail in the kitchen. Can’t speak hardly a lick of English ’cept for what he pick up in movies…but he can say your name backwards and forwards.”

  I said, “Can’t believe you sent him here.”

  “I’ve been trying to help you, Jacqueline.”

  “I don’t need it.”

  “Ain’t washed your tail since I been home,” Uncle Roscoe reminded me.

  I said, “Told you, I’ve wanted to be lazy.”

  “That’s lazy, all right. You got a dirty backyard.” That raspy laugh again, it filled the room.

  I said, “What business you had to attend to in Tennessee?”

  That cut the raspy laugh in half like a knife, killed it.

  Uncle Roscoe shifted on the bed. The springs sang out. He sighed, long and hard. He said, “Thangs been tough, Jacqueline, truth be told. Gas, milk, everything’s outta control. Got you here. We need the extra money and it doesn’t matter how we get it. I’m determined to take care of you this time.”

  This time. He hadn’t when I was thirteen.

  Foster homes. Two foster dads I’ll never forget.

  Mr. Robinson wasn’t too bad. He just made me touch it.

  I said, “Be better if I left?”

  Uncle Roscoe said, “Nah. Nah, Jacqueline.”

  I heard something in my uncle’s voice. I looked over at him. He’d taken off his glasses, was rubbing his eyes. His shoulders were moving in an up-and-down rhythm. I’d caught Papa in the same way, one day months after Mama had left. He was at the kitchen table where they made me sit when they went into their room together.

  I said, “I forgive you, you know?”

  He didn’t answer.

  I pushed aside the covers, slid out, went over to him. I put my arms around him, hugged him with everything I had. Tears came to me, too. We just held one another and cried. After a while, he was doing the holding. My head was on his chest, he had one arm wrapped around me, the other rubbing my head. It was a cocoon. Best feeling I’d had in twenty years.

  Jimmy was at the door to my bedroom. “Aww, can I get me some of that love?”

  Uncle Roscoe’s raspy laugh filled the room again. I smiled.

  Jimmy stepped in. Mud was caked on his boots. He saw my eyes dart down, said, “I know, Jacqueline. I know. I just wanted to run this mail into you. That DHL brought it in one of them trucks. Gotta be important, right?”

  I said, “Mail?”

  That was surprising. I didn’t even know anyone knew I was staying there. I’d left my old life behind. There wasn’t anything to bring along anyway, nothing but tears and pain. It’d been a clean and easy break. So who’d be sending me mail? I said, “Probably just junk mail. An application for a credit card or something.”

  Jimmy said, “Who’d send you that? Your credit all shot to hell.”

  I snatched the envelope from him. His toothless smile and Uncle Roscoe’s raspy laugh—I hated them both at that moment.

  Jimmy said, “Junk mail don’t be coming from DHL, do it?”

  “No.”

  It was a clean white stationery envelope, looked very official, and yes, important as Jimmy had said. My name was typed neatly at the center. An official stamp in the top left corner: DNA Girl, Inc.

  I said, “Never heard of them.”

  “What?”

  “Nothing,” I replied.

  Uncle Roscoe said, “Read your mail. Jimmy and I got that field to plow.”

  They moved on. I opened the letter with the sharp edge of one of my nails.

  A quarter of the way down the page, my eyes started to tear up again.

  Midway through my heartbeat was racing.

  By the end, I was angry, ready to move to action.

  CHAPTER 18

  DAWN

  “Dawn?”

  I was in the darkness of my bedroom but I heard Corey clearly, felt his presence by my door. Oak moss and spice, Derek Jeter’s cologne, Driven. I smelled it strong, as if he was sprawled out right next to me. Other than my husband, Corey was the most beautiful man I’d ever laid my eyes on. But none of that mattered anymore. He hadn’t saved me when I needed him most. He’d let me die a million deaths in the Hilton hotel. I’d never forgive him.

  “Dawn?”

  I feigned sleep, kept my eyes clamped shut.

  He said, “You’re not asleep. Both of us know that. We need to talk.”

  I didn’t move.

  “We need to discuss what happened.”

  I couldn’t take it anymore. I barked, “Nothing happened, Corey. Go away.”

  “You disappeared. I called and called. Did something happen to you?”

  I said, “Yes.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “No.”

  He didn’t know how to respond, so he didn’t. He didn’t say anything.

  I said, “I made a huge mistake, Corey. I realize that now. I shouldn’t have told you the things I did. Shouldn’t have put myself out there, left myself so vulnerable.”

  He said, “I’ve hurt you.”

  “Yes, you have. I wanted you to make love to me. You just wanted to fuck me.”

  “No, no.”

  “What then, Corey?”

  He said, “It was a mistake for me to go back to that hotel with you, Dawn. I was trying to hurt Tanya. What you told me about her and Walter just…I got you tangled up in this thing. Caused you a whole heapa heartache you didn’t need. I’m sorry.”

  Heapa. There it was again, subtle, the Jamaican patois.

  That brought a smile to my face. The smile quickly faded.

  Corey flipped the light switch.

  I covered my eyes, adjusted to that sudden light.

  I said, “Don’t want to talk about this.”

  I heard, “We’re going to. We’re going to talk about this until some things get settled.”

  That wasn’t Corey.

  Tanya.

  I looked across the room. She was standing by her husband, guarding his left shoulder. I’d never seen her that close to him, never seen a more determined look in her eyes. She said, “Put on some clothes, Dawn. Then meet us downstairs in the living room in five minutes. And I mean five minutes.” She turned and military marched away before I could respond.

  Corey was still lingering by the door. He said, “I’m sorry about all of this. It is best this way, though.”

  Then he was gone, too.

  I sat there for a minute, then got up and changed from my nightgown to a pair of khaki pants and a T-shirt. Everything I’d been wearing that day at the Hilton was gone, donated to the Red Cross. Everything, even the Christian Louboutin high heels. I never wanted to open my closet and see those items again.

 
The walk down their winding staircase wasn’t pleasant.

  I knew what waited at the bottom.

  Tanya said, “Corey has told me everything about you two, Dawn.”

  I nodded.

  She added, “He wants to know why we hate one another so much. Why we aren’t closer.”

  I said, “Okay.”

  In a robotic drone she said, “You will tell him, Dawn. You will tell him everything. Then you will pack your things and you will leave my home. You won’t be coming back, ever. Do you understand?”

  I whispered, “I understand.”

  She said, “We’ve all made mistakes. Everyone in this room has.”

  “We have.”

  “Today we deal with our mistakes. We take responsibility, we hold ourselves accountable.”

  I said, “Good.” I meant it, too.

  Tanya said, “Now tell my husband why we hate one another so much.”

  I cleared my throat, said, “Jo Min thought I was sleeping with Clarence.”

  Corey’s brows knitted. “Your father? Incest?”

  I nodded. “Yes.”

  Corey said, “Oh my God.”

  Tanya said, “Tell him the rest.”

  I looked at her. I hated her. She hated me. I loved her. She loved me.

  I said, “I led her to believe that I was.”

  “Why?” Corey’s voice raised a notch.

  Tanya and I were locked in our gazes. This day had been years in the making.

  I said, “Because I knew she would do something either way.”

  Tanya let out a deep sigh, sat down on the couch hard. Corey looked at his wife. Brow knitted, he had no idea of our skeletons, had never had this talk with his wife. Tanya and I had never had it, either. We should have a long time ago.

  I said, “I was Clarence’s favorite. Tanya was Jo Min’s.”

  Tanya started to sob. I didn’t. I had no tears left.

  Corey looked from one of us to the other.

  I continued, “I wanted my mother’s approval, too. It hurt not to get it. Tanya knew that. She was forever letting me know that Jo Min didn’t love me.”

  Corey said, “I’m sure she did.”

  I shook my head. “She didn’t. Jo Min told me so herself.”

  “What?”

  “She was a cruel woman, Corey. Prone to sudden bursts of violence, be it words or physical.”

  Tanya wailed. It was all coming back to her. It was nothing but painful.

  I said, “She beat me on a regular basis. There were always welts all over my back. Many of those times Tanya would be in the room, watching.”

  Corey grunted.

  I said, “She never so much as touched Tanya with anything but love.”

  Corey said, “Why?”

  I said, “You’ll have to ask your wife that one.”

  He did. But there was a storm brewing inside of my sister, and it took her forever to get it settled, took forever for it to subside. We all sat wordless while she worked that out.

  Then through sobs she said, “I was older. More was expected of me.” She paused, then, “Especially when Jo Min’s sight started to go bad.”

  I ran my tongue over my lips. My mouth was getting dry.

  Corey said, “Your mother had vision problems, too. I didn’t know that.”

  I said, “Retinitis pigmentosa is largely hereditary. My mother had it.”

  He said, “Tanya?”

  I heard the concern for his wife. Through everything she’d done, all of her mistakes, there it was for me to swallow whole—he loved her. He’d never love anyone else like that. They belonged together.

  He repeated, “Tanya?”

  I said, “Is okay. And she should remain so. She’s had tests done. Many.”

  Corey looked at her. She’d never even told him that. Never even let him know the battery of tests she’d been through. Never let him know that a life of darkness might one day be her sentence. They had a lot of work to do on their marriage. A lot.

  I said, “So anyway, she’s had the tests. She’s going to be okay. It’s a gamble you know…disease? Tanya called heads. I called tails.” I smiled bravely. “Tails it is.”

  Tanya’s sobs deepened.

  I asked my sister, “Speaking of tails. Can you finish our tale?”

  She took a deep breath, nodded. “I resented all that I had to do for Jo Min.”

  I stood up, walked over to their fireplace. Pictures lined the top of it. Jo Min and Clarence, sepia-toned pictures. Tanya and me as little girls with pigtails. We weren’t smiling in any of the pictures. We weren’t hugging. It was just two sisters side by side because someone told us to be. Forced Kodak moments. I looked at the pictures and listened to my sister talk. I was very interested in what she had to say.

  She said, “Dawn got to be carefree. Do whatever she pleased. I had to attend to Mother. I had to work.”

  Corey said, “Jealousy. That’s jealousy.”

  Tanya said, “Yes. A great deal of it on my part.”

  Corey said, “Why was your mother so cruel to Dawn, though?”

  “That was Jo Min’s way. She was a harsh woman, like Dawn said. When things went wrong, she dealt with them harshly.”

  I swallowed at that. More apt words had never been spoken.

  Tanya said, “Her disease made her worse. If things were out of place…she’d fall into a rage. She could really be something. It was all so very scary.”

  Corey said, “And she blamed Dawn for these things?”

  “She did. I’d usually edge her to it, though. I’d tell her that Dawn did it. That was my favorite phrase…Dawn did it.”

  I whispered, “Dawn did it.”

  “It was hard on Father,” Tanya said. “His wife was losing her sight. She was irritable. She wasn’t much of a wife.”

  I whispered, “Dawn did it,” as I fingered one of the picture frames. It was my father, in his military getup. Tight Afro, dimples, such bright and arresting eyes. Handsomest man ever.

  Tanya said, “Jo Min wasn’t much of a wife at all.”

  Tanya’s sobs had subsided. She was strong. After everything we’d been through, I was, too.

  Tanya said, “He was a loving father. A very good man, in fact. I’ll never let anyone tell me otherwise. He had needs, though. And a wife that wasn’t fulfilling them, that couldn’t fulfill them. So I stepped in like a good little soldier and I…I took care of his needs.”

  Corey said, “Oh my goodness.”

  Tanya kept going. I thought she’d stop. But she kept going.

  “My father had a closet where he’d pray,” she said, voice steady and strong. “A literal closet. Jo Min heard him praying one day. Heard him asking his Heavenly Father for forgiveness. For touching his daughter in such an ungodly way. Apparently it was eating him up.”

  Corey said, “Lord have mercy.”

  Tanya said, “Jo Min automatically assumed Dawn.”

  I whispered, “Dawn did it.”

  “Dawn accepted responsibility for it. I’ve never known why.”

  Then the tears came to me. I wasn’t dry after all. There was still more in the well.

  Tanya said, “Why, Dawn?”

  I didn’t turn to her. I didn’t face my sister. I loved her. I hated her.

  I said, “I didn’t want to see you get beat, Tanya. That would have hurt my heart…too much.” I choked on my tears, recovered. “I could handle whatever Jo Min did, I was used to it.” I spider-walked my fingers over the picture frame of my father. “He was a hero, our father. You were a hero. I figured if I took responsibility, if I took the blame, you guys could both go on being heroes. Dawn did it.”

  From over my shoulder I could hear the sobs. Both Tanya and Corey.

  Me.

  I said, “Jo Min beat me to near death. I had two broken ribs when the dust settled. Some other issues, as well. She did that to me. Then she managed to cook dinner and walked up behind her husband and stuck a knife in Clarence’s heart while he sat at the ta
ble.”

  Corey stopped cold. “What?”

  I said, “Then she stuck the knife in her own heart.”

  “Dawn, Tanya, no…”

  Welcome to the family, Corey.

  “This is for the best.”

  I said, “You’re right, Tanya.”

  “I need to…I have to fix this thing with Corey. We made a covenant with the Lord. That means something to us both. I’m ashamed that I haven’t done a better job at this.”

  “You don’t need any noise. Me living here is noise.”

  My sister asked, “Where will you go?”

  I said, “I don’t know.”

  I didn’t.

  Tanya came over to me. I thought she was going to hug me, give me a kiss. I wasn’t sure I was prepared for that. As it turned out, I didn’t have to be. She took my hand instead and slipped a piece of paper into it, then backed away as smoothly as she’d come. I looked down at the rectangular slip of paper. It was a check drawn from her account with Bank of America. Five thousand dollars.

  From across the room she said, “To get you started.”

  I nodded. “Thank you. Thank you both.”

  She said, “Corey didn’t want to be here for this, but he said to send you his love.”

  I said, “I won’t apologize for what happened with him.”

  “None is needed, Dawn.”

  I loved her. I hated her. She loved me. She hated me.

  “Let me get out of here.”

  I walked past my older sister, through the foyer, straight outside. I had nothing in my hands, but plenty on my heart. Everything material had already been packed away. The sun was beaming down brightly. My rented U-Haul truck was by the curb. Ten-foot Mini Mover was all I needed. I’d drive until dawn.

  Dawn. The rising of the sun. Dawn. My name.

  Behind the U-Haul was another truck. DHL Express.

  The driver moved up the sidewalk. I met him before he reached the porch.

  He said, “I’m looking for Dawn Darling.”

  That surprised me. I told him he’d found her.

  “This is for you, then,” he said.

  I signed for the package, a thin letter from DNA Girl, Inc.

  I opened it carefully, read it just as carefully. Two times I read it.

  Tanya was on the porch. She called out, “Everything all right, Dawn?”

  I nodded. “Yes.”