After Lena left the table, Julian felt that he finally had enough courage to ask the question that was burning his heart, tongue, and soul. He swallowed hard and took a deep breath. “What was your wife’s name before she changed it?” he asked.
“Oh, I don’t think I should tell you that. Yolanda was so embarrassed by it that she hates it when she runs into old friends and they refer to her by that name.”
Just then Lena returned to the table with the takeout cup full of potato salad. “This is the last of it. Bishop Snow, can you tell Ms. Yolanda we need more?”
“I certainly will. Thank you, Lena.”
Julian carefully took the cup and held it lovingly in his hand as if it were a very fragile and priceless piece of crystal. After staring at it for several minutes, he suddenly looked up as he felt eyes on him. Jimmy and Lena were staring as he tenderly caressed the side of the cup. Quickly he set it down on the table. “Um . . . yes, thank you.”
Lena gave him another side-eyed look, then walked away giggling.
“Are you okay, Julian? I don’t mean to pry, but you’ve seemed sort of out of it this afternoon,” Jimmy said. “Is there something you need to talk about?”
Laughing nervously, Julian shook his head. “No, it’s nothing. I’m a bachelor, so it’s not often that I get good home-cooked food. Now, you were about to tell me your wife’s real name.”
“Oh no, I wasn’t.” Jimmy shook his head emphatically.
“You know, Bishop, this is typical. You called me here to ask me to feature your wife on the show, and I have graciously agreed to that. But you are not willing to cooperate. I really don’t see how I can feature her, unless I know everything.” Julian was growing tired of beating around the bush with Jimmy. Inside, he was a bundle of emotions.
“I don’t understand. What difference does it make to you what her real name is?”
Julian reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. He threw a twenty-dollar bill on the table as a tip. “Before we began shooting this show, I had my producer run background checks on all of the participants. The reason we do that is to make sure that there are no surprises. We ran a check on Yolanda Snow, and now I find out that’s not even her real name.” He stood up from the table. “It’s in our best interest that we keep her low profile. The last thing I need is for some overzealous reporter to find out her real name and then tell us she robbed three liquor stores back in 1999.” He grabbed the cup of potato salad and turned in the direction of the door.
“Wait, don’t leave. I didn’t even think of that. You’re right. Of course I’ll tell you her real name.”
An evil grin spread across Julian’s face. Quickly erasing it, he tried his best to look disinterested; then he turned around and took his seat. “I’m an understanding man. We’ll do our background check, but otherwise, I promise it will be just between the two of us.”
Looking around, Jimmy made sure that none of the other patrons in the café were eavesdropping on his conversation. Then he leaned in close and motioned for Julian to lean in as well so that he could share his wife’s secret. “It was Ophelia Guzman.”
Underneath the table, Julian’s legs quivered and buckled. His eyes closed, and he slowly slipped out of the chair and wilted onto the tile floor, passed out cold.
Chapter Twelve
“Momlanda, I’m home,” Priscilla yelled.
Yolanda was surprised to hear voices in the house so early. She looked at the clock on the wall over her desk. It read 3:30 P.M. “I’m in the study,” she yelled back.
“Hey, what are you doing in here, and where’s the camera crew?” Priscilla asked as she bounced into the room wearing her red and black cheerleader’s outfit. Pushing some papers aside, she sat down on the edge of the desk and let her long legs dangle off.
“Your dad reminded me that it’s time to begin working on Harvest Sunday. It’s hard to believe that it’s November already. I’ve been so preoccupied lately that I completely forgot. This is boring stuff, so the crew is out in the truck, probably napping. What are you doing home so early?” Yolanda continued typing on her laptop.
“I got a ride home. Oh yeah, JJ said to tell you that he’s going over to Teresa’s after football practice, but he’ll be home before dinner.”
Still preoccupied Yolanda barely looked up. “That’s fine. Who did you ride home with?”
Excited, Priscilla began speaking rapidly. “Julian Washington, you know, the guy that owns the TV station. When I got out of school he was sitting out front in a limo, and he asked me if I wanted a ride home. That limousine is crazy. You could have a party in there; it’s so big, and he’s got it stocked with sodas and snacks. Well, of course, liquor too, but I knew better than to drink any of that.”
Yolanda suddenly slammed her laptop shut. “You rode home with Julian Washington? You know better than to accept rides from strangers.”
“He’s not a stranger, Momlanda. I met him at the cast pool party at Evangelist Hyatt’s house. Besides, he’s technically you and Daddy’s boss, as long as you are doing the TV show. He even said to tell you hi.”
“I don’t care about that. He’s a grown man, and you barely know him. Don’t you ever get into a car with him again!” she screamed. “Do you hear me? Stay away from Julian Washington!”
“Why are you freaking out? It was cold, and I didn’t want to wait for the bus.” Priscilla stared at Yolanda as her face turned several different colors.
“Don’t argue with me. Just promise me you’ll never ever go near that man again. Promise me!” she shrieked.
Priscilla hopped off the desk and shook her head. “Whatever, Momlanda, I’m going upstairs.”
As soon as Priscilla was gone, Yolanda lay her head on top of her laptop and began crying. She realized that she’d let things go too far.
It had been almost three months since she’d discovered that Julian Washington had found her again. The entire cast and crew of Revelations had been invited to the home of Evangelist Danita Hyatt for a pool party. Yolanda was aware that Jimmy had met with the owner of the television station, but until that afternoon at the pool party, she had no idea that it was her former fiancé.
Julian innocently sauntered up to her as she stood alone near the food table. Both of her kids were splashing around in the pool, and Jimmy was caught up in a discussion with Brandon Kitts about theology and football. “Hello, Ophelia,” Julian had said.
The sound of his voice made the baby-fine hair on her arms stand on end. Her first instinct was to run away from him as fast as she could, but she realized it would make her look like a fool. Instead, she stood there holding her breath.
“It’s been a long time. I never thought I’d see you again,” he said.
She stared at him but still did not speak. Her voice was not gone; she just had no idea what to say to this man.
“You look wonderful.” He smiled. “I mean, sometimes I run into our old classmates and it looks as if they had a wrestling match with Father Time, and lost.” He smiled again and stepped closer. Instinctively, Yolanda backed away from him. “Ophelia, surely you are not afraid of me?”
“That’s . . . that’s not my name,” she finally muttered.
“Oh, I’m sorry. You like to be called Yolanda now. Well, Yolanda, it’s been a pleasure seeing you again.” He smiled once more, and then he walked away.
A few days later, Yolanda opened her front door to a delivery man carrying two dozen red roses encased in a crystal vase. “Delivery for Yolanda Snow,” he’d said.
Excitedly, she directed him to place the bouquet on her dining-room table. After tipping the delivery man and escorting him out, she returned to the flowers and dug in for the card.
I remembered how much you love red roses, Julian
Yolanda immediately grabbed the vase from the table and took it out her back door. Then she threw the entire thing into the trash can and slammed the lid shut. The same delivery man returned every day for the next week. Each time, Yolanda to
ok the flowers, ripped up the card, and threw it all in the trash.
When Revelations aired that Friday night, Yolanda was surprised to see that the show had a new opening sequence. While all of the other ministers were featured in the opening without their spouses, Jimmy’s had been changed to include Yolanda. She was also shocked to see her name alongside his in the opening credits. Feeling elated, she watched the episode and marveled as she received more screen time than any of the other wives. After it was over, she sat on the sofa with a goofy, proud grin on her face.
“Momlanda, you were great!” Priscilla shrieked. “My phone has not stopped buzzing with text messages. Everyone loves you!”
“That’s right,” JJ agreed. “My friends think you are hot!”
Jimmy reached over and hugged her. “Julian really came through for you, honey, just like he promised.”
The smile suddenly fell from her face as she realized that Julian was responsible. “Um . . . you should call and thank him,” she replied.
“I could, but I think it would sound better coming from you.”
It took her several days, but finally Yolanda picked up the phone and called Julian. As soon as he answered, she got right to the point. “I just wanted to thank you for my extra role in the show. I appreciate it.”
“You don’t have to thank me, Ophelia. You know I’d do anything for you.”
The thought of it made her cringe. “I told you before, that’s not my name. It’s Yolanda. Yolanda Snow,” she said while putting extra emphasis on Snow.
“You don’t have to remind me that you are married. I haven’t forgotten, but we both know that you were supposed to marry me.”
“That was a long time ago, Julian. I don’t ever want to go back there. I only called about the show.”
Yolanda heard Julian sigh loudly. “There’s no way that country preacher can give you all the things that I can. I want to shower you with diamonds and furs and take you on exotic vacations. As my wife, you’d never want for anything. The world would be yours.”
“I don’t care about those things. I love my husband and our family.”
Suddenly Julian began laughing hysterically. Yolanda felt humiliated and was about to hang up the phone when he finally stopped. “I know what you care about. Can that country preacher make you a star?” Just like Satan, he’d found her weakness and zeroed in on it.
“Um . . . well, no . . . but . . .”
“I own a television station. I have the power to give you your own show. I can put your name up in lights, Ophelia . . . I mean Yolanda. We both know Bishop Jimmy Snow can’t do that.”
Yolanda bit her lip to stifle a moan of temptation from seeping out. She wanted all of those things, just not from Julian. “But he’s my husband,” she protested weakly.
“Not for long,” Julian answered. Then he hung up the phone.
For the next several weeks Julian set out to win her back. The daily flowers continued, but she stopped throwing them away. Instead she simply hid the cards from her husband, rationalizing that what he didn’t know couldn’t hurt him. Since she’d accepted his flowers, Julian stepped up his game and asked Yolanda out on a date. She immediately turned him down, but he refused to give up. He cajoled, begged, and pleaded for just a few moments of her precious time. Finally, against her better judgment, she agreed to have lunch with him. Every fiber of her being told her that she was wrong, but she wouldn’t listen. For the next several weeks, her part on the show grew larger, and her lunch dates with Julian became more frequent. They laughed together, and she flirted, but still she continued lying to herself by saying it was all perfectly innocent.
Then one afternoon, Julian brought her crashing back to reality. They were sitting in his limousine outside her home after another lunch date together. Julian had impressed her by stating he had plans for her to star in a new movie. He’d even promised to get Morris Chestnut to be her costar. Yolanda stared into his eyes, falling in love with the idea while Julian mistakenly believed she was falling in love with him. Unable to contain his desire any longer, Julian leaned over and kissed her deeply on the lips.
She quickly pushed him away. “What are you doing? I’m a married woman.”
“I’m tired of the games, Ophelia. You are mine. You have always been mine, and you will always be mine.” Julian roughly grabbed her arm and tried to pull her closer to him.
Yolanda snatched her arm away and reached for the car door. Julian grabbed her arm again and dug his nails into her flesh. She looked at him and saw fire blazing in his eyes. That look should not have surprised her, as she’d seen it many times before during their previous relationship. After she’d left him long ago, she vowed that she never wanted to see that look again. “Let me go. You’re hurting me,” she whimpered.
“I’m the one in pain, Ophelia. It tears me apart every time I see you with him.” He tightened his grip on her arm, twisting her flesh like a vise.
Panicking, she screamed out in pain, and within seconds, the glass separating them from the driver began to slide down.
“Is everything all right?” the driver asked.
Julian quickly released his grip on Yolanda’s arm. “It’s fine. Mrs. Snow just stubbed her toe on something.”
While he was speaking with the driver, Yolanda pulled on the door handle and discovered that it was locked. She turned to the driver. “I think I’m locked in. Can you open my door, please?” she asked sweetly.
“Certainly, ma’am,” he said. He rolled up the window and got out. As soon as he opened her door a few seconds later, Yolanda rushed out of the car and inside the safety of her home. When Julian called the next day, she told him that she didn’t want to see him again and to stop calling her.
Over the next few weeks, Julian became progressively persistent and aggressive. He called and texted her over and over, but she refused to speak with him. One Sunday, Yolanda looked out over the congregation from the choir stand and noticed Julian had walked into the church. He took a seat in a front pew and spent the entire service just staring at her. She’d faked a stomachache and left service early.
One afternoon, later that same week, she was at the grocery store, and suddenly, she noticed he was behind her in line. “Ophelia, you can run, but you cannot hide,” he growled in a low voice. Yolanda abandoned her groceries and rushed out of the store.
Repeatedly during the months of September and October as she drove around Atlanta running errands or doing church business, she’d glance into her rearview mirror and notice Julian’s car following her. Once he’d let his car roll into her bumper while sitting at a red light, tapping her lightly. He backed up a few feet then drove forward, intending to hit her harder just as the light changed and she drove away. On another occasion, he sped up his car and drove into the lane beside her. Yelling out of his car window, he screamed her name over and over again until he’d caused her to run off the road and knock down three of her neighbor’s mailboxes while he sped off up the street. Secretly, she’d paid the neighbors for the damage and prayed that Jimmy did not see the scratches on the car before she could get it repaired. Yolanda felt there was no way she could admit to him how the accident happened.
Her phone rang one morning at three A.M. Still half-asleep, she reached over her husband and answered. Then she dropped the phone after Julian screamed vile obscenities at her. Yolanda couldn’t fathom what was going on inside his mind. One moment he was professing his undying love for her, and the next minute he was spewing venom like a rattlesnake.
As her head lay on her laptop crying, Yolanda could not believe that Julian was now trying to get to her through her own daughter. What am I going to do? Dear God, what am I going to do? she prayed. For two months Julian had made her life a living, breathing nightmare. She heard the front door close and suddenly realized that she had no choice. It was time to tell Jimmy the truth.
Jimmy walked into the study and immediately noticed that she’d been crying. “Yolanda, what’s wrong?”
/> “I’m so sorry, Jimmy. I messed up. I messed up really bad,” she cried.
He walked over and pulled out a chair to sit beside her. “It can’t be that bad. Just tell me what’s going on.”
Yolanda took in several gulps of air; then she began speaking. “I know I should have told you this a long time ago, and I’m sorry that I didn’t.” She paused to wipe her face, but the tears continued to fall.
“Told me what?” he asked.
“I promised myself that I’d never talk about it, not with anyone.”
Jimmy stared at her. “You’re scaring me. Just tell me what it is.”
“Before I met you . . . I was engaged to marry Julian Washington.”
He didn’t speak. Jimmy just stared at her. His eyes grew wide with surprise. “It was a long time ago, Jimmy. It seems like it was another lifetime.”
“You were engaged to marry another man, and you never told me?” He stared at her in disbelief.
“I just wanted to forget. I wanted to move on and forget.”
Jimmy shook his head. “How could you keep something like this from me? All of these months that we’ve been doing this show, and you never once thought it was important to mention that you almost married this man?” Jimmy stood up from his chair and walked to the other side of the room.
Yolanda could see the hurt and disappointment in his face. She dropped her head in shame. “There’s more.”
He turned to look at her, and Yolanda spilled out the story as fast as could. She began by telling him about seeing Julian at the pool party, and ended with the kiss in the limousine.
“You kissed him?” he demanded.
“No, no, he kissed me, and I pushed him away. I never meant for things to go that far. Honestly, I didn’t.”
Jimmy turned his back to her again. This time, Yolanda recognized his rage as he struggled to contain it. “I don’t know who I’m angrier with right now, you or him. What made him think that he could manhandle my wife?”
“Because it wasn’t the first time,” Yolanda said softly.
“What did you say?”
Faking Reality Page 9
