“Vera, stop.”
“Honey, listen to me. I have to tell you and let all of our friends know about how I thought I was the one fucked-up and fucking up.” She looked toward her aunt Cookie. “Didn’t you tell me that I needed to get it together? That I was working too much, Aunt Cookie. Isn’t that what you said?” Vera turned back to Taj. “And I was soooo torn up and sick about the decisions I was making. My God, I thought I was just always doing something that you didn’t approve of.”
“Vera—”
“It was as if you were the American Dream and I was anti-American dream. But all along I was the one being fooled. You were an illusion, living proof that if it’s too good to be true, it’s a facade. And so—”
“Would you stop?”
“I’ve filed for divorce.”
“What?” Taj looked at Vera as if he’d heard wrong.
“My Love,” She clinked the tip of her champagne glass against his. “May we forever be friends.”
Reunion
The Club
Millionaire Wives Club was a hit. The ratings for the second season were the highest the cable network had ever gotten for any show, making this one of the most highly anticipated reunions ever.
All the women were breakout stars, and the fans, blogs, gossip sites, and tabloids either loved them or hated them. There was not only the promise of a third season, but Bridget had already started perusing other major cities for a spin-off cast.
Jaise and Vera walked out onstage wearing five-inch heels and designer dresses that complemented their curves. They sat to the right of the host on a crisp white chenille sofa. Jaise crossed her legs at the ankles, while Vera crossed one thigh over the other.
Chaunci and Milan sat on an adjacent sofa. Chaunci was dressed in an olive-green strapless dress, and Milan wore a cream halter dress that lay perfectly over her thick thighs.
“Lights, camera, action!” the director yelled from backstage. “We’re live.”
“Welcome to the reunion of Millionaire Wives Club, season two,” said the host, who’d dyed his hair the wrong shade of red for his complexion. “I’m Don McBride and I’ll be your host this evening.”
“Hello, Don,” the women said simultaneously as the studio audience clapped.
“Good to see you, ladies.” He turned toward Vera. “Why don’t we start with you?”
Vera smiled. “Let’s start with me.”
“Can you tell us how you and Taj are? I mean, my gosh, you really took the season out with a bang. Are you guys divorced?”
“No,” Vera answered. “We’re not. We’re working on getting our lives back in order.”
“Is he back home?”
“Almost. We’re taking things slowly. But I’m sure he’ll be back home soon.”
“Were you able to recover all his clothes that you threw off the terrace?”
Vera and the audience chuckled. “I think he’s replaced those.”
“Well, all of America wants to know what happened.”
Jaise held Vera’s hand while she took a deep breath. “When Taj and I were dating, shortly after we had our daughter, we broke up for a few months. And he, umm, spent a night with an old fling. And eight years later, she heard that I was on TV and Taj was this famous oncologist, and she came calling. Especially after she found out her son wasn’t her ex-husband’s child. But that has nothing to do with Aidan. He had a right to know his father.”
“So Taj really didn’t cheat on you?”
“No.”
“How’s your relationship with Aidan?”
“He’s part of our family. He’s adorable. We love him and Skyy loves her brother. He comes to our house. Is every day great? No. Is this an adjustment? Yes. But we’ll make it.”
“Sounds like you’re on the right track.” Don smiled as he looked into the studio audience. “How about we take our first question of the evening?” He pointed to a short Latino woman with blonde hair. “What’s your question?”
“Hi, my name is Jessi and my question is for Vera. Are you still working on selling your hair products on HSN? Because I can’t find them.”
“Yes, we’ll debut our line next month. So look out for Volume.”
“Thank you, Jessi,” Don said as he turned to Chaunci. “So, Chaunci, what’s going on with you? Any new prospects?”
Chaunci smiled. “If you’re asking if I have a boyfriend, the answer is yes. Emory and I are doing okay.”
“So you’re over Idris?” Don pried.
“I’ve been over Idris.”
“Then there’s a chance you and Vera will become friends?”
“Hell, no,” Chaunci snapped.
“Team Shannon.” Vera smirked.
“I’m sure we’ll be seeing that on a T-shirt.” Don chuckled. “Let’s move on to our next question from the studio audience.” He pointed to the audience and two women, both wearing red bandanna dresses, stood up. “Hey, y’all. I know you remember me. I’m Roz.”
“And I’m Trena.” She snapped her fingers and looked directly into the camera. “Hey, Money, hey, baby. Don’t even let those C.O.s stress you about that extra time they placed on your bid, ’cause if a mofo needs to be shanked, then you gon’ have to shank his ass! At least you got heart, baby.”
“That’s my boy.” Roz smiled.
“Okay,” Trena said. “Now, here’s my question. Chaunci, were you jealous of Vera this season?”
Chaunci cleared her throat. “No, I—”
“Well, then, what the hell was wrong with you?” Roz interjected. “I was looking at the TV like, is this heifer trippin’? Vera should’ve handled you on a number of occasions. And the way you treated Emory, girl, a mess. And, Vera, I was with you, girl, when you called that fool Taj out. Acting like he’s so high and mighty. I would’ve jumped dead in his shit too and then taken a crowbar and beat dat ass.”
“You ain’t nevah lied,” Trena agreed. “His ass would’ve needed a doctor!”
“Only one question, please,” Don said.
“These ain’t questions, these is comments,” Roz carried on. “And Milan. Damn, you put all that work into Kendu and what did you get in the end?”
“Not a damn thing,” Trena said. “Thank you, that’s all we have to say.” And the women took their seats.
Don looked completely caught off guard, but since this was live TV he had to gather himself on the air. “Okay, well, let’s move to you, Jaise. How’s Jabril?”
“Well, Jabril isn’t perfect—”
“At least you’re being honest this reunion,” Chaunci cut her off.
“Yeah, really.” Milan sneered. “Because last year you made him out to be America’s dream kid.”
“How about this?” Vera interrupted. “It’s her damn story and her damn son. And if she wants to twist shit, how about that’s her business? You bitches lie, show your ass, and do all sorts of dumb shit. Shall we rehash it? Otherwise back the hell up.”
“Click, click, boom!” Bridget yelled from backstage.
“Oh, you’re really going a little too far,” Chaunci spat at Vera.
“That’s all you ever say,” Vera snapped. “I meant to go that far.”
“You know what I say.” Jaise waved her hand. “All’s fair in love and bitch slaps. Now, can I continue?”
“Yes,” Don said. “Jaise, please continue. Also, can you tell us what’s changed for you?”
“Well, Don, I learned that I had to let my son go and be a man, which is the hardest thing in the world to do. I had to see that there was a difference between being a mother and being a smother, a codependent. And I was truly holding him back.”
“How’s he doing now?”
“Believe it or not.” She shot a look at Milan and Chaunci. “Jabril is in the firemen’s academy.” Her face lit up. “He lives in Brooklyn in a studio apartment. He pays his own rent and his child support. He’s really trying to get his life together.”
“Great,” Don said. “Now we have another que
stion from our audience.” He pointed.
“Hi, I’m Keisha and I wanted to know how things are between you and Bilal.”
“Bilal and I are closer than we’ve ever been. Our first year was hell. It was. And I know that I played a major part, but things are back on track and I have my priorities in order.”
“So does your son still come first in your life?” Don asked. “I’m sure everyone wants to know.”
“I love my son and I will not apologize for that. And I can’t say that I’ll never help him again, because that would be a lie. But I’m not sure if I can answer whether my son continues to come first. But what I can say is that my husband and I are one, and my son is my son, and umm—”
“Here y’all motherfuckers go again!” Al-Taniesha screamed as she stormed onstage wearing a lavender sequined skirt suit with a large-brim hat and veil. Lollipop walked slowly behind her wearing a long black robe and white priest collar, holding a bible in one hand.
“No cussin’, Niesha,” Lollipop said. “No cussin’.”
“Oh, excuse me.” Al-Taniesha fanned her face. “Got me cussin’ and shit. And here I am saved.”
“Al-Taniesha,” Don said, flabbergasted. “I had no idea you’d be here.”
“Because nobody invited me. If it wasn’t for Bridget, I wouldn’t have known the reunion was being recorded. And, see, this is why I quit the show, because of favoritism. These heifers all up on TV showing their asses and because I had some class and didn’t want to do that, I couldn’t get any airtime. So I said, ‘Al-Taniesha Chardonnay Richardson, you better step to the side and quit before you been done cut a bitch.’ Forgive me, Jesus. What I meant to say was, I didn’t appreciate that again.”
“So, umm, what are you two doing now?” Don asked, doing his best to collect himself.
“Well, we have got a special calling over our lives.” Lollipop clutched his bible. “Thank ya.”
“Sho’ do.” Al-Taniesha waved her hand. “Amen.”
Lollipop continued. “And I am now Bruh Pastah Lollipop, head of the collection plate, I mean, the congregation of Heathen No More Tabernacle.”
“And I’m first lady of Heathrow, Hallelujah—what is it again, Lollipop?”
“Heathen.”
“First lady of Heathen No More Tabernacle.” Al-Taniesha snapped her fingers. “As you can see, we’re doing our own thing and we don’t need these hoes, I mean, these heathens to be successful. But they are welcome to come to the tabernacle.” She pointed at the other women. “Because lawd knows they need somebody to pray for ’em.”
“Wow, well.” Don reached for a glass of water on the table next to his chair. “This has really been quite an unexpected turn of events. I don’t even know where to go from here.” He paused. “Oh, yeah, umm, Milan.” He looked toward her. “I believe we still need to catch up with you. How are things?”
“Things are okay, Don. Life is different,” Milan said, while Chaunci patted her hand.
“So I take it that you and Kendu aren’t back together?”
“No.” Milan did all she could to hold her tears at bay and sound sure of herself.
“Do you still love him?”
Milan hesitated. Tears filled her throat. She looked up at the ceiling, then back toward Don. “It gets better every day.” She mustered a smile.
“Well, I need to know the secret.” Kendu stood up and walked down the center of the aisle. All eyes immediately fell on him and instantly the audience started buzzing.
Kendu continued. “I need to know the secret of how it gets better every day because for me it gets worse.” He continued to walk until he was at the front of the stage staring at Milan. “I don’t know what the hell to do. And I sat at home, watching this shit and I kept looking at you, Milan, and thinking I have to go and get her. I gotta try one more time. Because I’ve been in hell for the past six months and I’m lost without you. All I wanna do is love you, Milan. But if I can’t and you won’t let me love you then tell me how to get over that shit. Tell me.”
“Well down at the Heathen No More Tabernacle,” Lollipop said. “We offer classes entitled Flesh Be Still.”
“Milan,” Kendu walked on stage, ignoring Lollipop. “Tell me. Tell me how to do it.” Tears filled his eyes as he kneeled before her. “I think about you every day. I’ve called you a thousand times, written you a million letters and you won’t talk to me. Talk to me, Milan. Tell me. I promise you if you tell me you don’t love me, or better if you tell me how to stop loving you then I’ll try. But as of right now, today, I’m fucked up.”
Tears ached Milan’s throat as she said. “You take me for granted.”
“I’m not perfect. I’m not and I fuck up. I do dumb shit. I get scared—”
“Scared of what?” She rolled her eyes to the ceiling. She had to do something to stop tears from spilling, but judging by the way they were filling her bottom lids nothing would stop them.
He continued. “Scared that you’ll never come back. I’ve never loved as much or as hard as I love you. It’s like I breathe you. Milan, tell me do you still love me? Because if you don’t, I promise I’ll walk away. I’ll leave here today and deal with the bed I made.”
Milan swallowed. She desperately wanted to lie but she couldn’t. “I still love you,” she whispered.
“Then marry me.”
“What?”
“Marry me right now, at this very moment. Right now.”
“Knott—”
“Marry me.” He kissed her. “Marry me. You make me a better man. You make me want more. I’m no good with this shit, Milan. Just say you’ll marry me, right now.”
“How am I going to marry you right now, Knott? I need time to think.”
“No, you don’t. Let’s just do it.”
“All you need is a preacher,” Lollipop said as he cleared his throat.
“And I’m working on the license right now!” Bridget screamed with a phone held to each ear. “And Carl, I hope you’re getting close-ups! Ratings will shoot through the roof. Milan!” She screamed. “I smell a spin-off!”
“I haven’t even said yes.” Milan wiped tears from Kendu’s eyes.
“Oh, girl,” Jaise said. “Would you tell this damn man yes?”
“Knott.” Milan paused.
“Say yes,” he whispered.
Milan cupped his face and pressed her lips against his. “Yes.”
He stood up and took Milan by the hands. “I love you,” he mouthed as sweat formed on his brow.
Chaunci, Jaise, and Vera walked into the audience, leaving Milan and Kendu onstage as the ceremony began.
“Are we really doing this?” she mumbled to him.
“Hell, yeah.” He grinned. “We’re taking it back to our roots. Ghetto, baby.”
Milan laughed. “This is why I’m madly in love with you. You just have a way with words.”
“Let’s get it on.” Lollipop stood up and looked toward the audience. “I bring you greetings from the Heathen No More Tabernacle, where you are welcome to send donations for one of our many charities. We take credit cards, debit cards, Family First cards, Visa, Mastercard, and we are working on American Express.
“And now that we’ve got that out of the way, let’s handle this here. We are gathered here today to unite this fine, oversized chocolate bar, who looks like my cellmate from back in the day, Nephew.”
“Nephew!” Al-Taniesha screamed. “Why are you bringing up Nephew?”
“Would you get to the point?” Kendu said.
“I am. I am.” Lollipop continued. “Okay. We are gathered here today to unite Milan Starks and Kendu Jackson.”
“Who the hell is Kendu Jackson?” Kendu frowned. “It’s Malik. I know you watch football, man.”
Lollipop grumbled. “That’s what I meant to say, Malik. Kendu Malik and Milan Starks. We are gathered here today to witness them becoming one. Now, who gives this woman to this man?”
“We do.” Bridget bolted onto the stage. “We do.�
�
“Rings, please.” Lollipop said.
Milan replied. “We don’t have any—”
“Here you go.” Kendu slid two rings from his pocket, one for him and one for Milan. “I came prepared, baby.”
Milan smiled as Lollipop prayed over the rings and handed the respective rings to each of them. Kendu held Milan’s hand and as he slid her ring onto her finger, he said, “Milan, I always knew that you would be my wife. I always knew it, from the moment I laid eyes on you on the playground and did my best break-dancing move to impress you to the moment we first made love. There was something about you that made me always want to risk it all to be with you. So here I am, promising to love, honor, and cherish you forever.”
“This is so beautiful,” Bridget whispered. “I need a tissue.”
Milan wiped the tears that streaked Kendu’s face with her thumb. She placed his band on his finger. “I never knew where we were going or where we would end up. All I knew is that I loved you so much and that I always wanted to be with you, forever. You are my best friend, the perfect lover, everything I have ever wanted and needed. And from this day forward I promise to love, honor, and cherish you forever.”
“And by the power vested in me by the Heathen No More Tabernacle and the state of New York, I hereby declare you husband and wife.” Lollipop turned to Kendu, “You may get busy with your bride.”
“Carl!” Bridget cried. “Come over here, please. I need somebody to hold me.”
To Melody Guy, for your patience,
your talent, and for the richness you
have brought to my literary career!
I could never thank you enough
for all that I’ve learned from you.
God bless and may we meet again.
Acknowledgments
First and foremost I thank my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, who died so that I would have everlasting life!
To my mother and father for always being there.
To my husband for dreaming up crazy characters with me.
Money Never Sleeps Page 22
