The Replacement Wife

by Tiffany L. Warren

  CHAPTER 6

  Quentin looked down at his friend Alexis as she slept. It wasn’t a peaceful sleep. Her snore rattled like an old car in dire need of a tune-up. But at least she wasn’t in pain, not now anyway.

  There were currently five residents at Transitions; they’d had up to ten in the past. All were referrals from a social worker or agency, and all had terminal cancer in its last stages. Quentin remembered how bad it had been in Chandra’s final days. She’d been in so much pain that one morphine dose barely held her over until the next.

  The medical bills were very expensive, but because of his family’s wealth, Chandra was as comfortable as it was possible for her to be. But there were unfortunate souls, like Alexis, who didn’t have a penny to their name. Alexis’s final days would’ve been much worse than Chandra’s had been if she hadn’t been referred to Transitions.

  Alexis finally stirred. She squinted her eyes and said, “Q-Doggie-Dog. How long have you been here?”

  “Just a few minutes. I was just about to leave with all that snoring.”

  Alexis let out a weak chuckle. “Was I loud?”

  “Yes. You sounded like you were hibernating.”

  “Yo’ mama.”

  “Does absolutely snore, but not as loud as you. How are you feeling?”

  Alexis sighed. “About a five.”

  The Transitions residents had a pain scale from one to ten, with one being a great day, and ten being a steady morphine drip. Alexis’s doctor had given her a three-month prognosis, and she’d been at Transitions for two months. Her condition hadn’t worsened, but it hadn’t improved, either.

  “You need meds?” Quentin asked.

  She shook her head. “No. I’m writing in my journal this afternoon. I have some stuff I need to get on paper today.”

  “Make sure you ask for them before the pain gets too bad.” Alexis gave him her lopsided smile. “Hey, if I’m in pain, it means I’m still alive.”

  “But don’t suffer, okay? That’s why you’re here.”

  “I think I’m here because God wanted me to have a caramel angel at my bedside while I waste away.”

  Quentin shook his head and grinned. Alexis had no problem openly flirting with him or talking about God like He was someone who actually cared about their day-to-day lives. Quentin was convinced that God paid as much attention to humans as humans did to ants building an anthill.

  “I’m at your bedside because I want to be. God didn’t tell me to do this.”

  Alexis shrugged. “Okay then. I was just giving you an excuse for your little girlfriend about all the time you spend with me. But you can keep it real if you want. Tell her you just can’t get enough of me.”

  “You are a mess, Alex.”

  “Where is she anyway? Why haven’t I met Miss Thang? Is she too good to visit us?” Alexis covered her mouth with her hand to contain her giggle.

  “Maybe I haven’t invited her.”

  Alexis laughed out loud. “Why wouldn’t you invite your fiancée here?”

  “Because she’s not my fiancée. Where’d you get that from?”

  Alexis shrugged. “I guessed because you’ve been dating her for a long time that you’d marry her. Maybe you don’t have the nerve to propose to her.”

  “Nerve?” Quentin said with attitude. “You don’t think I have the nerve to propose to Chloe?”

  “Terminally ill people are pretty candid. Don’t take it personal.”

  “It has nothing to do with nerve.”

  “Then why haven’t you asked her yet? You’re not getting any younger.”

  Quentin said, “Maybe I’m waiting on you to get better, so I can leave her and we can run away together.”

  “Shoot, we can do that now. Where you wanna go?”

  “I don’t know,” Quentin said. “Barbados?”

  Alexis pressed the remote control next to her bed and the television came to life. She clicked through the channels—all with some peaceful scene—until she got to the channel with the white sand beach and waves crashing over the shore.

  There were about twenty channels for the residents to choose from as a form of pain management. It was all about meditation and relaxation. Alexis used the television more than the other ladies, but then she also used less morphine.

  “You know, on a serious note,” Alexis said, “why don’t you get a couple dudes up in here? It gets pretty boring with all this cancer-ridden estrogen floating around.”

  “I’m not enough man for you?” Quentin asked, as he stood up from his chair. He kissed Alexis on the top of her head. It wasn’t something he did with all the residents, but he and Alex had become close. If he’d ever had a little sister, he imagined she’d be like Alex.

  “You’re about to make me blush,” Alexis said. “Don’t go home smelling like me; your girlfriend might get mad.”

  Alexis burst into laughter at her own joke. She smelled like a mixture of menthol, oatmeal, and sickness. There was nothing appealing about the scent of decay.

  “I’ll be back to see you tomorrow. I’ve got to meet some new nanny my mother hired.”

  Alexis raised her sparse eyebrows. “I’ll be counting the seconds until you return. Except after I take my meds. Then I’ll be out like a light until your return.”

  “Yes, you better take your medication, Alex.”

  “I will. I promise.”

  Quentin squeezed her hand. “Don’t suffer.”

  “You either.”

  Quentin kissed Alexis’s head once more before he left the room. He couldn’t promise her he wouldn’t suffer, though. Quentin witnessed the pain of every resident at Transitions and felt an emotional drain every time one of them passed on.

  Sometimes Quentin asked himself how many times he would watch someone die before he stopped feeling guilty for being alive. And he couldn’t answer the question. He didn’t know when it would be enough, or if it would ever be enough. As long as his pain enveloped him like a woolen shawl, he’d continue to watch their transitions, while he stayed the same.

  CHAPTER 7

  Montana stood outside the Chambers mansion, feeling tiny in comparison to its grandeur. Although it was the biggest house she’d ever seen up close, the white brick and blue shutters gave it a welcoming feel.

  Montana lifted her hand to ring the bell, but the door swung open before she got the chance. Standing in front of her stood a sour-faced woman in all black, with her hair pulled back in a mean-looking bun.

  “Oh, hello,” Montana said, unable to hide her surprise.

  The woman’s gaze swept over Montana from head to toe. “You’re late.”

  “I know, and I’m so, so sorry,” Montana gushed. “I just ran into horrible traffic on the way from church.”

  “Come in. Mrs. Chambers is expecting you. I am Ms. Levy. If you do get the job, you will report to me.”

  If she got the job? Montana thought their meeting was a formality. She didn’t know she was still being tested. She approached this prospect with some trepidation. Her tardiness had already put her on her potential supervisor’s bad side.

  Montana couldn’t help but gasp as Ms. Levy led her through a large foyer with ceilings that seemed to stretch into infinity.

  “I bet the acoustics in here are great,” Montana said.

  Ms. Levy said, “The late Mrs. Chambers swore by the acoustics in this foyer. She’d have Mr. Chambers wheel a piano right in here and play for her while she sang.”

  Montana smiled at Ms. Levy’s musing, thrilled that she’d evoked a good memory instead of a bad one. Perhaps it would erase her earlier faux pas.

  Ms. Levy showed Montana into a parlor filled with pretty peach and silver furniture. She motioned for Montana to sit, and she did.

  “Wait here,” Ms. Levy said. “It shouldn’t be long.”

  Montana gazed out the room’s bay window at the wonderful view. The sun danced on a lake surrounded by small peach trees. A little family of ducks traveled across it as if they had major bus
iness to accomplish.

  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

  Montana turned to answer whoever belonged to the deep, rich, baritone voice. “It is. Very.”

  And so was he. Montana’s breath caught in her throat at the sight of him. On first take, she couldn’t find one flaw. He had smooth caramel skin, dark curly hair that fell across his forehead, and light brown eyes. Those eyes were what had Montana feeling flustered. The contrast of their color and the heavy, long eyelashes overwhelmed her. It was as if God had said, “Let there be romance” and then drew those eyes.

  He offered his hand for Montana to shake. “I’m Quentin Chambers. I think I’m supposed to be meeting you.”

  Montana jumped to her feet. “Mr. Chambers, I’m Montana Ellis. I attend church with your mother.”

  He chuckled. “Don’t be nervous. I’m not the one in charge here. It’s my mother and Ms. Levy that you have to worry about. And my mother obviously likes you already or you wouldn’t even be here.”

  “I love your mother. We sing together in the choir.”

  Quentin lifted an eyebrow and cleared his throat. Montana panicked. Had she said something wrong?

  “But I’m not sure about Ms. Levy,” Montana continued, trying to recover. “I don’t know if I’ve impressed her.”

  Quentin’s warmth seemed to return. “Her bark is bigger than her bite. I’m sure you’re fine.”

  Montana looked at her feet for a moment to gather her wits. She couldn’t match Quentin’s steady gaze.

  When she felt ready, she looked back up at him and asked, “Do you have any questions for me? They’re your children.”

  Quentin ran one hand through his hair while he pondered, and it was then that Montana noticed his biceps. She swallowed hard. He wasn’t just fine. This man was incredible.

  “For the life of me, I can’t think of one thing to ask you. That’s horrible, right? Maybe if you looked more like a nanny, I’d have a question or two.”

  Montana looked down at her clothes. She’d worn what she’d had on at church—a white blouse, a black skirt, and a red rose. Well, she’d moved the flower from her lapel into her massive headful of curls, but other than that it was the same outfit.

  She shrugged. “How should a nanny look?”

  Quentin looked stumped again, but this time he was saved by his mother, who burst into the room, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

  “Well, I wanted to introduce you,” Estelle said, as she gave Montana a hug. “This is the young lady I was telling you about. What do you think?”

  “Um . . . what do I think?” Quentin asked.

  Estelle shook her head slightly as if he was irritating her. “Yes, don’t you think she’s perfect?”

  “Oh, yes. Whatever you say, Mother. This was all your idea.”

  “And after Deirdre’s shenanigans you agreed with me.” Montana felt like she should say something, but she didn’t know what, so she looked from Estelle to Quentin with curious glances, hoping they’d remember that she was standing right there in the room with them.

  “Montana, I will have Ms. Levy show you around the house, and to your room.”

  Montana’s eyes lit up. “So, I’m hired?”

  “Yes, honey. If you’ll accept the offer. We’re paying fifty thousand a year, plus room and board. I think that’s fair, don’t you?”

  Fair? That was more money than she’d ever made in her life. Just to watch some children who were half grown already? Montana felt like she should make a counter offer of something lower.

  “It’s very generous. Thank you,” Montana replied.

  Estelle nodded her approval. “I remember your testimony during choir rehearsal. Do we need to send movers to your apartment?”

  Montana blinked back tears of joy. “Yes, ma’am, that would be really, really helpful.”

  “We have lots of storage here if you want to keep your furniture here, or I can have Ms. Levy locate a local storage facility if you don’t feel comfortable with that,” Estelle said.

  Montana was in awe of Estelle. Had she thought of everything?

  “Before she accepts, don’t you think she should meet the children?” Quentin asked.

  Estelle gave him an irritated glance. “Oh, Quentin, I declare. As if they would deter her from accepting this offer. I’ll go and get them, though. It will be love at first sight.”

  “Ms. Levy can get them, right?” Quentin asked. Montana wondered if he didn’t want to be left alone with her again.

  “Ms. Levy is off for the afternoon. She is going to visit her aunt in Marietta. I will be right back.”

  Estelle left the room, and Quentin gave Montana a nervous smile. She returned the gesture with what she hoped was a warmer smile than the one Quentin had managed.

  “Thank you so much for the opportunity, Mr. Chambers. You don’t know how badly I need this.”

  He shrugged. “It’s my mother. She probably thinks this is ministry. And you can call me Quentin.”

  Montana shook her head. “I’d rather call you Mr. Chambers. I don’t want the children to think I’m unprofessional.”

  Quentin chuckled. “Sure, that’s fine.”

  Ms. Levy popped her head into the parlor. She was out of her all black and in a colorful shapeless dress. The bun was still there. Montana did not think the dress was an improvement. The black suited her better.

  “Quentin, Ms. Chloe has arrived. Should I tell her to join you in here?”

  “Um, yes. Of course. Enjoy your afternoon.”

  A few moments later Chloe walked into the room looking stunning in a red sleeveless dress and red pumps. Montana was sure designers had made every piece of her outfit.

  Chloe gave Montana a charitable glance. “Is this a new staff member?”

  Montana’s jaw dropped. She was wearing her Sunday best, and Chloe’s first assumption was that she was the help? True enough, her skirt had come from T.J. Maxx and her blouse from Target, and yes, her comfortable Nine West pumps had been on sale at Ross, but she clearly wasn’t dressed like staff.

  “Chloe, meet Montana. She’s the new nanny. Montana, meet Chloe. She’s . . .”

  “Quentin’s future wife,” Chloe finished his sentence. “I am very glad to meet you.”

  Chloe daintily extended her hand for Montana to shake. Montana responded with a hug. This seemed off-putting to Chloe, who took two steps backward to separate herself.

  “We’re not quite engaged yet, Chloe,” Quentin said with raised eyebrows. Chloe promptly ignored him and continued to smile at Montana.

  Montana said, “I’ve seen you in church. Do you recognize me from the choir?”

  “Typically I arrive in time for the sermon, so I don’t usually get to see the choir,” Chloe said. “But if you’re a member of Freedom of Life, I guess a ‘Praise the Lord’ is in order.”

  “Yes it is,” Montana replied. “He’s worthy.”

  Estelle walked back into the parlor with five children in tow. She looked at Chloe with an unreadable expression. Montana tucked that reaction away into her memory.

  “Well, here’s the surprise,” Estelle said, as she took Montana’s hand.

  The child who was apparently the youngest looked at Montana with a confused look on her face. “She is so not a pony.”

  One of the identical twins said, “Grandmother never said it was a pony, you said it was a pony.”

  “Well, what is it exactly?” the other twin asked.

  “She, not it, is your new nanny,” Estelle beamed. “How would you like the children to address you, dear?”

  “Uh, I guess Ms. Montana will be fine.”

  The oldest girl burst into laughter. “Are you serious? You really went out and got a nanny. This is un-freaking-believable.”

  “Deirdre! Manners, please. Ms. Montana is going to think you were raised by a pack of wolves,” Estelle snapped.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, Grandmother,” Deirdre snapped back. “How do you do?”

  Deirdre did an el
aborate curtsy that made her younger sisters laugh out loud. Montana bit her bottom lip to contain her own giggle. This one would be a challenge, Montana was sure about that.

  The only boy said, “You stay clowning. Hello, Ms. Montana, I’m Reese. I’m sure we won’t have too much contact, since I’m hardly ever here, but welcome.”

  “Thank you.” Montana beamed in his direction. “And you might just need me every now and then. Are you a senior?”

  He nodded. “Yep. Almost grown.”

  “Almost,” Montana said. “Do you take calculus?”

  Reese frowned. “Yes. That class is whipping my butt.”

  “Who was in the math club in high school?” Montana raised her hand. “Oh, that would be me.”

  “Well, then, Ms. Montana, we might be best friends. But you’re not my nanny.”

  “No, no. You’re almost grown. You absolutely don’t need a nanny.”

  Deirdre rolled her eyes at Montana. “And neither do I.”

  “But I’d love to be your friend too,” Montana said.

  Deirdre scoffed. “Friends aren’t on the payroll.”

  Deirdre turned and ran out of the room before anyone could stop her. Montana bit her lip again. Deirdre was going to be more than a challenge. She was going to be a prayer request.

  “I’m sorry,” Quentin said. “She’s angry with me and taking it out on everyone.”

  “No need to apologize. She’ll do it later,” Montana said.

  Chloe chuckled, and Estelle cut her eyes at Chloe, immediately shutting that down. Quentin wasn’t lying about who was in charge.

  “So what are your names?” Montana asked the twins, and the youngest. “I’ve got Deirdre and Reese.”

  “We’re Madison and Morgan,” Madison said. Morgan nodded. Montana decided that Madison was the mouthpiece of the two girls.

  “I’m Danielle, and I like you already,” Danielle said.

  Montana gave the youngest child a hug and spun her in a circle on her roller skates. “I remember you from Vacation Bible School. Do you know I love roller skating too? I have my own pair.”