Diary of a Mistress

by Miasha

  “Oh, no, see, now she’s takin’ it too far,” Monica said.

  “Keep readin’. This is the good part,” Rita jumped in.

  “Rita, how did she know about that Christmas?”

  “I don’t know, but let’s find out. Keep readin’,” Rita instigated.

  “ ‘It’s been a whole year and we’ve spent a lot of time together, you know, whenever his wife would go to the nursing home to see her dad, and the time she went to Texas for her family reunion, but he kept saying he wanted to wait until the time was right.’ ” Monica slammed the book shut. The nerve of that son of a bitch, she thought.

  “Rita, I do not believe this! She knows a little too much. What if Carlos—”

  “Hold up. Now, Monica, you know Carlos like the back of your hand. Don’t you think you would have sensed something, had he been cheating on you all this time? Don’t lose your cool so quick.”

  “But she knows entirely too much stuff. Like this, listen to this,” Monica said, as she found a random page in the middle of the book. “It says, ‘March 3, 2002. Dear Diary: Today Carlos stood me up. We were supposed to get together and go down to the casino. But his wife caught mono from one of those kids she teaches.’ Remember that? How would she know that?” Monica asked.

  “But plenty of people knew about that,” Rita said.

  “Like who? My family and close friends, and a few of his close friends, and the other teachers, of course. But that’s it,” Monica explained.

  “Exactly!” Rita said, “It could be a number of people playing with you. I bet you it’s one of them fake-ass teacher friends. Think, who would want to cause problems between you and Carlos?”

  Monica ignored Rita’s question. At that point she no longer believed the diary was a hoax like Rita did. Her heart began to beat faster.

  “Listen to this,” Monica started up again. “ ‘You won’t believe who I ran into down Penn’s Landing today—Carlos and Monica. This was my first time seeing her. She’s cute. She had on a cute outfit too. Some fitted white pants and a red-and-white halter and some red stilettos. She didn’t look anything like the wholesome schoolteacher Carlos described.’ I remember exactly what day she’s talking about, and nobody we know saw us down there because they would have stopped and spoke,” Monica concluded.

  “Well, yeah, I guess so,” Rita agreed. “What else does she say about that day? Maybe there’s a hint in there about who she is.”

  Monica read on. “ ‘Carlos looked a little scared like I was going to play his cards in front of his wife. I wanted to real bad, especially now that he hasn’t called me ever since I told him I was…’ Oh, my God, Rita! I will kill that man!” Monica shouted.

  “What, Monica?” Rita asked.

  “This bitch was pregnant by my husband!” Monica yelled. “Rita! Wait ’til he brings his ass in here! I will kill that man! I swear to God!”

  At that moment Rita started to take the diary more seriously. She could tell Monica was hurt, and as her best friend she wanted to console her. “Monica, calm down, sweetheart, you still don’t know if this is true or not.”

  “It better not be true, Rita! Because if it is, Carlos is a dead man! How could he do something like this to me?”

  “Well, where is Carlos now? You should ask him about this,” Rita suggested.

  “He went to Mom’s to pick up the boys,” Monica told her.

  “Well, I’m coming to get you,” Rita decided.

  “For what? I wanna be right here when he gets back so I can…OH! I don’t believe this shit!” Monica shouted, tears gathering in her eyes.

  “Monica, you don’t need to be there when he gets there. How you’re feelin’ right now, there’s no tellin’ what you will do when he comes through that door, and you don’t want the boys to be in the middle of all that.” Rita made a rational point.

  Monica took into consideration what Rita was saying. Her best friend was right. C.J. and Chris didn’t need to know what was going on. She thought maybe it would be best for her to go over to Rita’s, at least until she calmed down some.

  “All right,” Monica said, letting out a sigh. “His ass is lucky I love my sons like I do, otherwise, I swear to God…”

  Chapter 5

  Rita’s row home off of Cottman Avenue wasn’t but ten minutes away from Monica’s. But with it being Labor Day, every other street was blocked off. Rita had to take detours, turning her typically ten-minute drive into a twenty-minute one. And Monica kept her eyes glued to the diary the entire time, not even budging the couple times Rita tried to get her to look at a block party.

  When they finally got to Rita’s, Monica plopped into a recliner chair, tucking her feet under her behind. Her face was stained from the mixture of her tears and mascara. She was reading the diary page by page, reciting some parts of it to Rita. She was growing more and more angry with each entry, in complete and utter disbelief at the things that were being revealed about Carlos.

  “You need to put that book down. You’ve read enough,” Rita told Monica.

  “Before you were tellin’ me to read everything!” Monica shot at her friend.

  “Yeah, but that was when it was amusing. The shit ain’t funny no more. It’s hurting you. And it’s hurting me because I can’t address the bitch who’s bringin’ you this drama,” Rita said as she practically slammed a cup of lemonade on a wooden end table beside Monica.

  “Listen to this,” Monica said, turning her attention back to the diary, and disregarding Rita’s speech.

  Rita sat down on the sofa diagonal from Monica and rolled her eyes. She let out a sigh, but kept silent as she listened to Monica read.

  “ ‘I’m three months pregnant with his got damn baby, and he wants me to get an abortion. When I told him I didn’t believe in abortions, he told me that was my problem. He said I would end up raising the kid on my own, and he would never have anything more to do with me. I’m the stupid one, though. I should have figured if he wanted me to get rid of our baby that bad, he must have had no intentions on leaving Monica. He was trying to protect his marriage. He didn’t want his wife to find out about us and definitely not a baby. I should have the damn baby anyway, and I should take his ass to court for child support and see how he likes it. His wife would really be pissed if she had to find out about her husband’s affair in a courtroom. As a matter of fact, I think I’m going to do just that.’ ”

  “All right, look. That was in ’02, right? Well, if this is all true and this broad had a baby by your husband, don’t you think she would have executed her plan by now? Why hasn’t she taken Carlos to court? I know I would, wife or not!” Rita said, still trying to discredit the diary.

  Meanwhile Monica’s eyes had not lifted from the pages.

  “ ‘October 12th, 2002. Dear Diary: Tonight was the final straw. He knows I’m pregnant—five months at that. I’m showing and everything, and he still had the nerve to put his hands on me. He was upset that I still hadn’t gotten the abortion, and he was worried that it was too late, but under no circumstances should a man put his hands on a woman, especially while she’s carrying his child. He grabbed me by my hair and threw me onto the floor. He told me that if I didn’t get rid of my baby on my own, he would do it for me. Well, I snapped. I told him that I was going to have the baby and introduce him to his brothers and see how his wife would react. That did it. He took both of his huge, masculine hands and wrapped them around my neck so tight. I was sure I would die right there in his arms. That’s the one time I can say I was thankful he had a wife, because she called his cell phone at that very moment. She told him she needed him to come home because one of their sons had a fever. He left immediately. And somehow, I feel like I owe that woman my life.’ ”

  Monica closed the diary and let it fall in her lap. She held her face in her hands and cried. She was learning things about her husband that scared her. How could a man she knew so well lead another life as someone she didn’t know at all? It was a hard pill to swallow. Carlos had be
en more than a good husband to her, and the love they shared for each other was immeasurable. She could not understand how he could do the things the diary described. She badly wanted to write it all off, but the information and the details the woman provided made that impossible.

  Immediately, she started thinking of all the times Carlos had made excuses to be away from her, all the times he came home late from work, and all the times he didn’t answer his cell phone. She was sure he was with his mistress on those occasions. She then started thinking about all the good times she and Carlos spent together and how he kept her extremely happy and how great a father he was. Was it all done to keep her blinded from his affair? Was it was all an act? He had been playing one role with her and another with his mistress all to be able to have his cake and eat it too. And I fell right into it, she thought, I should have known he was too good to be true.

  Rita had been rubbing Monica on her back as she cried. “It’s going to be all right. Once you talk to Carlos and hear what he has to say about this, and you calm down some, I bet he’ll clear this up, and we’ll all look back at this day and laugh. Just put the book on hold until after you talk to your husband. It could all be a misunderstanding,” Rita said, desperate to comfort her friend.

  Monica shook her head from left to right and mumbled, “I have to know everything before I approach him.”

  Straightening up and wiping away her tears with her trembling hands, she retrieved the diary from between her knees and opened it again.

  Her voice shaking uncontrollably and light tears escaping her eyes, she read, “ ‘March 30th, 2003. Dear Diary: I thought I would be over Carlos after not having any dealings with him for so long. After that night in my apartment, back in October, I didn’t want shit to do with his crazy ass. And I guess the feeling was mutual because he hasn’t called me at all. He didn’t even call to see if I had went through with terminating my pregnancy. I’m glad though. He probably would have really killed me after seeing that I never got the abortion. I was almost six months pregnant when I finally consulted a doctor, and he talked me out of it. Thank God. He said I was too far along and it would be too risky. He went over all of my other options, and adoption seemed to be the best thing for the baby and me. So for the remainder of my pregnancy I avoided Carlos. I couldn’t let him see me pregnant. I was fearful of what he might do. But I wish I didn’t have to go through that experience alone. I had terrible morning, noon, and night sickness in my first trimester. Then in my third trimester, I developed what they call gestational diabetes. I was considered high-risk and had to eat a special diet and give myself finger pricks to check my sugar all the time. Then, on top of all that, I was depressed, wishing I hadn’t made the mistake of involving a child in my mess. As bad as I wanted a baby, I regretted getting pregnant under such fucked-up circumstances. I beat myself up about it. I was miserable, and I felt so alone. I didn’t have anyone in my corner. And the couple of people who may have been helpful, like my sister and my housekeeper, I avoided out of embarrassment. I didn’t want anyone to know that I was pregnant, especially by a married man who wanted nothing to do with my baby. I thought I could get through the nine months and give the baby up without anybody ever knowing. Then I had the nerve to believe I could just get on with my life as if it never happened. I was so wrong. I had Carla Sabrina on March 11th, 2003, at three o’clock in the morning. She was adorable. I never thought I could love another human being as much I loved that baby. For a few seconds after having her I forgot about everything. Looking down at her in my arms, it felt like all my problems had disappeared. I forgot about Carlos and all the bullshit he put me through. I forgot about my recent depression, and I even forgot about agreeing to adoption. Well, maybe I just suppressed all of that. When it came time to give my daughter up, I cried for three days straight. It was the biggest mistake of my life. And to think it was all for a man who could care less about me. Now, I have to live with this—and I have to live with it alone.’ ”

  Chapter 6

  Angela was sitting on a park bench with her legs crossed and arms folded, watching her fellow residents who were gathered in a circle, clapping their hands, swaying side to side, and chanting, “Go Peggy, go Peggy, go!” to the beat of Rob Base’s “It Takes Two.”

  She was bored. She couldn’t believe that she was spending a beautiful Labor Day institutionalized. She would have much rather been at home trying to hook up with Carlos, even if it took begging or a made-up story about needing a workout tape. She thought about the diary she had Vanessa mail. She wondered if it reached its destination, and if so, whether Monica read it. She wished she had called Carlos to see what state he was in. If he was arguing with Monica, it would have told in his voice, and she would have been able to offer support. Then she would have the chance to prove to Carlos how much she really loved him and was willing to do anything to be with him. He would be able to appreciate that, she thought.

  “Come on, Angie,” Vanessa said as she danced over to Angela, motioning for her to join the group.

  Angela frowned and shook her head no. “I can’t dance,” she said.

  “Yeah, right,” Vanessa said, as she grabbed Angela’s arm, forcing it to unfold, and pulled her to her feet.

  “Go, Angie. It’s your birthday, not a holiday, but do it anyway,” Vanessa sang as she held Angela’s arms up and waved them side to side.

  The radio started playing “Push It” by Salt-N-Pepa, and Angela loosened up. “Aw, they playin’ all the old-school hits,” Angela said, starting to do the bump with Vanessa.

  Before long Angela and Vanessa were dancing to every song, doing all types of old-school moves—from the Whop and the Butt to the M.C. Hammer and the Cabbage Patch. Haywood from the kitchen had the grill lit up. Everybody around her was smiling and dancing. Even the young girl with whom she had words earlier cheered her on when it was her turn to go down the Soul Train line. She felt like she was at a family reunion with real family. It was a feeling that she’d missed ever since her parents were killed in a car accident when she was fourteen. She couldn’t even recall feeling that good and that complete during her seven-year marriage.

  “Hello,” Rita answered her phone.

  “Hey, Rita, how you doin’, it’s Carlos. By any chance, have you spoken to Monica today? I dropped her off to unpack and she’s gone,” Carlos explained.

  “She’s here,” Rita said nonchalantly.

  Carlos sighed with relief and asked to speak with his wife. Monica was hesitant about taking the phone. She didn’t want Carlos to charm her out of being mad. She decided to take the call, but she intended to make the conversation short.

  “Carlos, I’m staying here with Rita for a little while, just until I can cool off.” Monica got straight to the point.

  “What? What are you talking about? Cool off from what?” Carlos asked, completely confused.

  “I know all about the affair, but now is not the time to discuss it. I don’t want the boys to know. I don’t want my mother to know. I just want to stay here with Rita for a while until I can work things out in my head,” Monica calmly explained.

  “I don’t understand, Monica. What affair?” Carlos asked.

  Monica was getting angrier just hearing her husband’s voice.

  “The got damn affair. The Christmas in Langhorne. The big case you had to work on while I was in Texas. The pregnancy you wanted terminated! Do you want me to spell it out for you, Carlos? The fucking affair!” Monica replied, her voice rising in anger.

  “You watch way too many talk shows,” Carlos said with a smirk in his voice.

  That was the wrong thing to say because it set Monica off.

  “Yeah, that’s what you think, isn’t it? Isn’t that what you told her! I do nothing but sit on the couch watching talk show after talk show! Well, what about when I’m cleaning your house, or cooking your dinner, or washing your clothes? Or what about when I’m tending to your children, bathing them, clothing them, feeding them, occupying them? All that a
fter an eight-hour day! What the hell do you call that? I’ve been a good wife to you, Carlos! And a damn good mother to Carlos Jr. and Christopher! And this is what you do to me? Why, Carlos? Why did you feel the need to get another woman? What did she do for you that I didn’t? What was worth losing your family?”

  There was a long pause.

  “ANSWER ME, DAMN IT!” Monica screamed into the phone.

  “Monica,” Carlos said.

  “WHAT?”

  “Monica, I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about. Why don’t you just come home so we can figure this out. Apparently someone has been lying to you. And Rita’s house is not the place to find out the truth.”

  “CARLOS, YOU’RE THE ONLY ONE WHO HAS BEEN LYING TO ME! YOU’VE BEEN SLEEPING WITH ANOTHER WOMAN AND COMING HOME TO ME!”

  “Monica, I swear to you I haven’t been messing around. We just came from a beautiful vacation celebrating—”

  “Oh, was that to celebrate? Or was that done out of guilt? Because I must say, I have been a little suspicious of all the extreme niceness lately.”

  “Suspicious? Monica, I bent my back over for you our entire marriage. This niceness that you’re talkin’ about didn’t just arrive. And I worked hard to pull off that surprise vacation for our anniversary! Our tenth anniversary, which is today! If I felt guilty about anything, I’m sure I could have just bought you some flowers and wiped my slate clean. I mean, you and I both know it don’t take much to make you happy,” Carlos said.