Heather chuckled. “Girl, don’t be naive. Mama tried to put plenty of common sense in that head before you went off to college for them book smarts.”
Aria could only shake her head. Her mother was the self-proclaimed guru / Oprah / Confucius of the ghetto and there was more to come.
“Listen, every city has good and bad. Some of it is just covered up better, but once you get past them iron gates and big sprawling front doors you’ll find a lot of the same shit that goes down around here. Bullshit is still bullshit even with icing on it.”
“But the icing makes it easier to deal with,” Aria countered.
Heather waved her hand dismissively. “Well, cleaning up the bullshit instead of living with it would be the easiest thing to do.”
Hmph. Mama just summed up the same thing Dr. Matheson told me earlier. Dr. Matheson had some serious competition on his hands.
More than working on your marriage, Aria, you have to deal with your unresolved issues, your guilt about your past. The first step is talking about it. Tell me about it.
She had shared a lot with Dr. Matheson today. A lot but not all. Aria turned her face to look back out the window, locking her eyes on a lone figure walking down the street, his head down, chin nearly buried to his chest. She briefly wondered what his story was. What was his own pile of bullshit to deal with?
“There’s a lot about me that you don’t know,” Aria began.
“I might know more than you think,” her mother said.
Aria shook her head. “Never. Not about this, ”she admitted softly. . . .
Aria took each step leading up to their second-floor apartment carefully. She definitely wasn’t able to run up the stairs like she’d done earlier.
“You a’ight, cuz?” Jontae asked from behind her.
Aria paused on the landing and reached out for the banister. She nodded. “Just cramping up,” she said, wincing as an intense spasm radiated across her lower back.
“It’s gon’ be like that all day,” Jontae said around a wad of gum she was popping like fireworks on the fourth of July.
“I know, I remember from the last time,” Aria said, taking a deep breath before she continued up the stairs to the front door of the apartment. It opened before she could use her key and she looked up at her mother standing there, wiping flour from her hands with a dish towel. Aria forced herself to stand up straighter and smile. “Hey Ma. ”
“Hey girls. What you two been up to today?” Heather asked, walking down the hall to the kitchen.
“We went downtown, Auntie, to look around in all the stores,” Jontae offered up from behind her.
Liar, Aria thought as she fought not to wince while she made her way to her bedroom at the rear of the apartment.
“Aria, are you okay?” her mom asked from the kitchen just as she passed.
“I think something I ate messed up my stomach,” she said, avoiding her mother’s eyes. Liar, liar, pants on fire.
“You probably need to shit it out, ” Heather said, sliding battered chicken wings into the bubbling deep fryer.
That made Aria smile even through her discomfort. Her mother was off the chain. “I’m okay. I’m just gonna lie down, Ma,” she said over her shoulder.
“I’ll be in to check on you, ” Heather called back.
“I know.” As soon as Aria stepped into her bedroom she kicked off her bright purple Reeboks and lay down on her side on her twin-sized bed covered with her Strawberry Shortcake comforter.
Jontae closed the door before she dropped down on the other twin bed and reached over to turn on the radio. “On and On” by Erykah Badu filled the room.
Aria rolled her eyes heavenward as Jontae began to sing along completely off-key. Before she could reach the next chorus, Aria’s bedroom door opened. She was facing the wall and turned to look over her shoulder as her mother stepped in.
“Jontae, since Aria isn’t feeling well, why don’t you head on back to your dad’s. ”
That was a nicely worded order and not at all a request. Jontae was sneaky with her shit and never showed outward defiance. Playing nice and sweet got her way more freedom. “Okay, Auntie. Bye, Aria. Hope you feel better.”
Behind Heather’s back she motioned to Aria that she would call later and then she left. Aria loved her cousin and summer companion, but she was glad to see her ass go.
“You sure you okay, baby girl?” Heather asked, coming over to touch Aria’s forehead.
Aria closed her eyes and enjoyed the smooth and warm feel of her mother’s touch. Tears welled up in her eyes behind her lids. She fought like hell not to let them fall.
She fought like hell not to speak the truth. Mama, I just killed my baby.
She fought and won both times.
“I’m good, Mama,” she said, feeling really tired and just wanting to hug her pillows to her stomach and wait for the cramping and bleeding to stop like the nurses at the clinic said it would.
Heather turned on the window air-conditioning unit and closed the blinds to block some of the sun’s summer rays.
“If you don’t feel better I’m going to give you a laxative,” she said, pulling the pillow from the empty twin bed to settle gently under Aria’s head.
Aria chanced a look up and she felt surrounded by the love in her mother’s eyes. That look eased the throbbing aches of the cramps.
“Mama don’t want nothing wrong with her baby,” Heather said, smoothing Aria’s head before she softly patted her cheek.
Mama don’t want me lying here recovering from a second abortion at just sixteen. Aria couldn’t stop the tear that raced down her cheek.
Her mother’s face filled with concern.
Tell her, tell her the truth. Let her help you through this, she told herself, all the while knowing she wouldn’t. She couldn’t. Not ever.
Aria reached up and wiped the tear away. “Something must be in my eye, ” she lied.
Heather sat up straight and crossed her arms over her chest as she eyed her daughter. “Somebody bothering you? Somebody hurt you? What you and Jontae been up to?”
Aria forced herself to smile. Her mother was in detective mode and that would end real fucked up for her. “Just not feeling good, Ma. That’s all.”
Her mother walked to the door. “I had you. I raised you. I know you, Aria. Mama here when you want to talk. You hear me?” she asked over her shoulder.
“I hear you, Ma. ”
Long after her mother stepped out of the room, closing the door softly behind her, Aria lay there with her eyes locked on the wall silently crying....
Aria remained quiet and kept her gaze locked on the male figure getting smaller and smaller in the distance.
Her mother sighed and it was filled with a lot of things Aria recognized—regret, disappointment, anger—but still the love a mother has for her child, especially her only child. “Do you regret having the abortions?” she asked softly.
Aria turned in the dimly lit room to eye her mother in surprise.
“What, Aria, you think I’m gonna grab a brush and beat your ass like Diahann Carroll in Claudine?” she asked, leveling her eyes on her daughter’s face. “Don’t get me wrong, I woulda did it back then, but now? Now you’re a grown woman living under her roof with her own husband.”
“I’m sorry, Mama,” she said.
Heather Goines smiled sadly. “So am I because you could’ve come to me. I don’t care what the situation I always got your back, Aria. It hurts that you didn’t know that.”
“I should have,” Aria admitted, looking down at her hand as she twisted her three-carat wedding band around her finger beneath her three-carat solitaire. “Just like I shoulda known not to keep secrets from Kingston.”
“More secrets?”
If only you knew, she thought, thinking of all the things about those summers her mother still didn’t know. If Heather “keep your panties up” Goines knew just how much sex and scheming her little girl had done....
“More secre
ts, Aria?” her mother asked again.
“I fucked up, Ma. I fucked up bad. He might be gone for good.” Aria’s heart ached as she breathed life into her true feelings and her tears raced.
“What happened?”
“I need to talk to Kingston first,” she said. “But I will tell you about it because in a way it affects you, too.”
Heather Goines reached over and grasped her daughter’s hand. “If it’s God will then all things can and will be done, Aria. You remember that. Okay?”
And in that moment, nearly shielded by darkness with just enough light to shimmer in their eyes, Aria knew that her mother had guessed about her infertility. And she also knew in that moment that the matter was set aside until Aria was ready to fully discuss it with her.
“Now, your old mama gon’ give you some advice. Some tough love,” Heather Goines said, rising to her feet and pushing the dining room chair back under the table.
Aria closed her eyes and smiled. Picture Heather Goines not getting her nickel in, she thought.
“To me—and it’s just my opinion—you should be home waiting on your husband. If he walks through the door then you fight to let him know that you love him and if he never returns then you begin to rebuild your life without him.”
Black and white. That was her Mama.
She looked over as her mother turned on the ceiling fan, basking the room with light from above. She continued on to the front door and opened it. “Go home, Aria,” she said firmly with a soft smile.
“But Mama—”
Heather shook her head. “Go home. You can’t keep running and hiding and lying about your problems. Where has it gotten you so far?”
Aria rose to her feet and grabbed her car keys. “I thought I was the college grad,” she teased, reaching to playfully pinch her mother’s cheek.
“Common sense can’t be topped.”
Aria hugged her mother close. “If I call for you—”
“I’m there. Me and Uncle One-Eye will tear that highway up,” Heather finished, playfully swatting her daughter’s buttock.
“Not Uncle One-Eye,” Aria drawled, thinking of how well his nickname suited him.
Heather just laughed. “Go on. Get.”
Aria walked out into the hall, turning to look back at her mother. She saw the sadness her mother felt and turned away, just grateful that her mother chose not to ream her out for her deceptions in the past.
But she wasn’t crazy. Aria knew she hadn’t heard the last of it.
“Picture that shit.”
Aria entered her passcode and waited patiently for the heavy iron gates of Richmond Hills to open for her. She waved to whichever security guard sat in the booth as she whizzed past, taking the long curving roads before she reached the first home in the subdivision. She eyed Renee’s brick Colonial and her foot edged over to the brake. It seemed like every light in the house was lit, making the sizable structure beam against the backdrop of night.
The last time they’d spoken, it had sounded like Renee was crying or drunk. Renee had rushed off the phone and until her own drama had hit her like a Mack truck, Aria had meant to check on Renee. Be a better friend than she had the last month or so.
Tomorrow, she thought.
Tonight her thoughts were all fucked up with the mess waiting for her around her own door.
Go home, Aria.
Her mother’s voice echoed in her head and she shifted her eyes to the home she shared with Kingston. She eased her foot off the brake and lowered it onto the accelerator.
Her stomach was tight with anxiety as she pulled into the drive, but her heart hammered like crazy to find the lights on in the living room. Kingston! He must have parked in the garage, she thought, feeling like her heart was about to explode in her chest.
Emotions overwhelmed her as she lowered her head to the steering wheel and licked the last remnants of her gloss from her lips. What awaited her on the other side of that door? What story was about to unfold?
Aria was afraid.
Taking a deep steadying breath, she left her SUV and made her way up the stairs. Her thoughts were racing.
What do I say? How do I explain? How do I make it right? Why did I give Jessa the power? Why didn’t I tell him myself?
Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit, Aria. SHIT!
Aria slid her key into the lock not even sure it would still work. Click. She felt relief as she pushed the door open and stepped inside the foyer. “King—”
The sound of laughter from the living room made her freeze. Aria frowned deeply as she held her keys so tightly as to almost pierce her flesh. She made her way to the living room with long strides like she was marching to war. If a bitch is in my house, it’s gonna be a war.
At the front arched entry to the living room, she pulled up short. The anger dissipated from her face as Kingston and his parents turned their heads to look at her. She smiled stiffly as her eyes shifted to Kingston. Were they ALL here to kick her out? “Hello, hello, hello,” she said, slightly cautious.
Kingston stood up and walked across the mahogany hardwood floor. Her eyes took in everything about him. His strong and handsome features, only softened by his long lashes. The way every movement of his muscled frame was like that of a panther in the loose-fitting jeans and pale blue shirt he wore.
Her eyes tried to search his as he came to slide his hand onto her back and kiss her cheek. Aria stiffened, unable to hide her surprise at his show of affection. “I forgot my parents were coming for dinner. I guess you did, too,” he said, his voice seemingly warm. “I told them you had an interview to do and wouldn’t get back until late.”
Is this a Jaime-and-Eric-type, Emmy award–winning performance? Are we fronting now or is everything okay?
Aria smiled and slid her hands around Kingston’s waist, aware of his parents’ eyes on them. “You should have called and reminded me. I would have come straight home.”
“Didn’t want to bother you,” he said.
Aria side-eyed him, not sure how to take it all in as he gently freed himself and reclaimed his seat by his father, Tony.
“You’re always so busy. When are you going to slow down enough for you two to give us grandchildren?” his mother, Olivine, said as Aria moved forward to kiss her cheek and hug her close.
Aria froze. She shifted her gaze to Kingston and did not miss the tightening of his square jaw. “Are y’all staying the night?” she asked, moving over to hug her now-standing father-in-law. His parents now lived in upstate New York and usually avoided the forty-five minute ride home until the mornings.
“Yes, Eric filled us up with Chinese food and you know I hate to drive on a full stomach,” Tony Livewell said, patting his slightly rounded belly. His tall and stocky frame was a testament to his fitness in his youth.
“So, Aria, back to my earlier question,” Olivine said, crossing her ankles in the casual and flowing silk pantsuit she wore with large and bold colorful jewelry that Aria knew came straight from a high-end boutique. “Babies. When will I be able to rock some grandbabies?”
Aria turned and gave a long and hard look at Kingston. Even though he stared back willfully she saw the pain flash in his eyes.
Aria loved her mother-in-law to death. She was a sweet and affectionate woman who knew how to cleverly get her way without even seeming like it. Kingston was a classic mama’s boy and Aria had literally poured the pussy on him to break some of the more ridiculous ties like him stopping by his mother’s house for dinner almost every night.
Olivine Livewell was an overprotective mother whose main goal was to be an overprotective grandmother. She used to e-mail Aria articles on ways to increase fertility, working mothers, and anything else she thought would make Aria start popping out kids like her last name was Duggar or some shit.
Even though she didn’t know it she was making shit real awkward for Aria. “Soon, Olivine. As a matter of fact I’ll give you a buzz when I’m ovulating so you can be in on it from the beginning.”
“Aria!” Kingston chopped out sharply.
She licked her lips, looked somewhere for a quick second, before she forced a smile and faced her mother-in-law. “I’m sorry, Olivine. I’m just a little grouchy today.”
Olivine nodded, her asymmetrical bob swinging back and forth slightly. “I didn’t mean anything by it. I was just asking.”
“I’m going up to get your room together,” Aria said, rising to her feet. The pretending was too much. Just too damn much.
“Kingston, what is going on?” his father asked as soon as Aria stepped out of the rear entrance of the living room.
She paused. It was hard to ignore their whispers floating from the room.
“Is she mad at me?” Olivine asked in obvious disbelief.
“No, Mother,” Kingston answered, his voice distant.
“Yes, Mother,” Aria mimed sarcastically, knowing she was being childish. Olivine was a cool mother-in-law. She had just caught Aria at the wrong damn time with her baby-making shit. If I could, Olivine, I would. Damn.
“Well, what’s going on?” Olivine asked, still whispering.
Aria frowned as she pressed her back to the wall and leaned in closer to the arched entryway. She knew that her husband was slouched in his chair with his head leaned back on the chair, eyes closed, mouth a straight line.
“Ma, Aria and I are going through something right now—”
“Something like what?”
Aria stepped back into the room. Sure enough he was slouched in his chair just like she had guessed. “Kingston, I need help upstairs,” she said, tired of the limbo she was floating in.
She wasn’t going to stand there and ear hustle on the status of her marriage. She deserved to hear it first. Face to face. Was she fighting for her marriage or preparing to move on without him—something she couldn’t imagine doing.
I fucked up, she thought, flushed with embarrassment.
“Aria, I really am sorry,” Olivine said, rising to her feet.
“It’s okay,” she said. “Kingston?”
He rose to his feet and made his way past his father’s seated figure to join her in the hall. Kingston turned and closed the double doors blocking that side of the living room from the hall with the rear stairs to the upper level.
Mistress No More Page 15
