I spent most of the late afternoon rearranging books on the shelf to showcase a new author who was coming into the store next weekend for a book signing. I also had a dozen on display in the storefront window. Like I said, I believed in supporting authors.
I was down on my knees when I remembered I still needed to get the podium and microphone from the storeroom and set them up. Wednesdays were open mic night, and by seven o’clock the couches in back would be filled with students from the University of Missouri–St. Louis and from the local area for poetry, singing, and spoken word. Mia, a student, facilitated the event, while two others assisted with serving coffees and teas. After Aiden was born, I had hired a part-time evening manager to run the store and allow me more time with my family. Terrence Miller, a business major, was a godsend. He usually relieved me by seven.
The phone rang and I rose from my knees and walked up to the desk just as Karen was saying good-bye to a customer with two little children. I grabbed the phone before whoever was on the other line hung up.
“Book Ends, how may I help you?”
“Nikki Truth, please.”
My brow bunched because I knew that voice. “This is Nikki.”
“Hey, Nikki . . . this is Ann. I hate to bother you, but we’re about to close and Aiden still hasn’t been picked up.”
“What?” I glanced over at the clock on the wall. It was almost six. Where the hell was Donovan? “Ann, I’m so sorry. Let me see if I can reach my husband. Otherwise, I’m on my way to get him.”
“Okay, ummm . . .” She paused and I didn’t miss the hesitation. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you. I know this isn’t any of my business, but yesterday when your husband came by to pick up Aiden, I smelled liquor on his breath.”
I didn’t even respond because in all honesty I didn’t know what to say. I knew Donovan had been drinking more than normal, but I hadn’t realized he was starting so early.
“Really?” I said, then gasped for dramatic effect. “Thanks for telling me. I’m on my way.” I hung up because I just didn’t want to hear anything else about my husband or his behavior. I was confident it was nothing he and I couldn’t work out ourselves.
“Karen, I need to go and pick up Aiden from daycare. As soon as Dominique comes in to relieve you, could you please set up the mic before you go?” Dominique was my part-time cashier.
She looked at me and nodded. Hell, it wasn’t like it was the first time she’d had to cover the store while I jetted off. “Sure, no problem. Is something wrong?”
We had been working together long enough that I guess she could tell when something wasn’t right with me. But I just couldn’t bring myself to tell anyone yet what was going on in my house. Big Mama had always said keep your problems between you and your husband. It was times like this I missed her so much. She had been the only person I had ever been able to talk to. Sure, I had a mother, but she and I had never been close like me and my grandmother, who had passed away over three years ago.
I shook my head. “No, everything’s fine. I guess Donovan forgot he’s supposed to pick up Aiden.” I couldn’t even look at her as I spoke, because it was all a lie. Lying was something I had been doing a lot of lately. I moved back to my office, grabbed my purse, and as I headed to my car I called Donovan on his cell phone and got no answer.
An hour later, I carried a sleepy Aiden into the house and up to his room. He was such a good little boy and beautiful, too, with dark mahogany skin like me and dimples that could melt a lady’s heart. I slipped him under the covers and kissed his cheek, then went in search of my husband. I found him in our bed, asleep.
“Donovan!” I called out to him. When I got no answer, I leaned over the bed and tapped him on the shoulder. The second I made contact, his eyelids flew open and he jumped up, screamed, and rolled out of the bed onto the floor. He scared me so bad, I jerked back and bumped my head on the wall. “Dammit!”
He was in such a panic it took Donovan a few seconds before he remembered where he was. “Why the hell you sneak up on me?” he shouted.
I was rubbing the back of my head. Damn, that hurt. “I didn’t sneak up on you. I called your name.”
He kicked away the sheet that was tangled around his legs. “Then you should have called louder.” Donovan then rose and noticed me holding my head and immediately his expression softened. “Are you hurt?” He walked over and took a closer look, clearly concerned. One thing about my husband, he would never raise his hands to a woman.
I shook my head and lied. “No, I’m fine.”
He kissed my cheek and stood in front of me. I took a moment to take a good look at him, standing there in nothing but boxer briefs. My husband had a body, so it was truly a beautiful sight. However, I suddenly noticed he was starting to lose weight, so the briefs didn’t hug his butt the way they used to and he knew how much I loved gripping that ass. There were also the dark bags under his eyes, and he had two-day growth at his chin. Where the hell was the gorgeous man who had held me in his arms and made love to me less than a week ago?
“Help me to understand . . . what are you doing in bed? Did you even go into the barbershop today?” I asked.
Donovan scrubbed a hand across his face and shook his head. “I didn’t feel like it.”
I wanted to scream at his ass to snap out of it. He hadn’t felt like it in over a week and it was starting to annoy the hell out of me. I guess what I wanted was for the man who had left for Afghanistan fifteen months ago to come walking through that door, not this alien invasion who was impersonating him.
I took a deep breath, then stepped closer to Donovan and gave him a huge hug and was pleased not to smell the stink of stale alcohol. “Baby, you’ve gotta snap out of it.”
“Snap out of what?” he shouted, then backed away from my grasp. “I just got back, Nikki. Damn! Give yo man some time to adjust to being at home. You expect everything to just be the way it was. Well, guess what? It ain’t. I need time to get used to being home.”
I looked into his eyes, hoping he could see evidence of how worried I was about him. “It’s already been three months. How much longer is it going to take? I’m trying to be patient. Really, I am, but Aiden and I need you.” Lord knows I was trying to be a loving and supportive wife, but this was getting to be a bit much.
Donovan closed his eyes and rubbed his face with his hands. I know he was tired of having this same discussion. Well, guess what? So was I. I wanted my husband back. He had been my rock. The old Donovan had always had my back and his goal, first and foremost, was to make sure his wife was happy. Before he’d been deployed we’d made love almost every night and had an insatiable appetite for each other, but now it was hit and miss. I ain’t gotta have it all the time, but can I get it at least consistently? Last night, I reached over and grabbed what I wanted and he had pushed my hand away. What man does that?
I lowered onto the bed and forced myself to take a deep breath before I ended up saying something I’d later regret. “You forgot to pick Aiden up from daycare.”
He swung around and I saw the look of confusion before my words suddenly registered. “Oh, damn! Baby, I’m sorry. I guess I should have set an alarm or something.”
Seriously? Was that all he had to say? He should have set a damn alarm. I raised a finger, ready to light into his ass, then thought better of it. Arguing was clearly a waste of precious time that I did not have. Thanks to him.
“I’ve gotta get back to the bookstore. Are you going to be able to watch Aiden until I get back?”
“Why the fuck you ask me that? Of course I can watch my son.” He shook his head and sucked his teeth, but I didn’t care.
“I’m just asking,” I said with attitude. “By the way . . . one of the daycare assistants mentioned she smelled alcohol on your breath yesterday.” I raised a perfectly arched eyebrow and searched his face for some kind of reaction.
“Which one? The chick with the wide forehead?” Donovan rolled his eyes. “Probably because she trie
d slipping me her phone number and I turned her skinny ass down.”
I didn’t know what to make of what he said. Part of me really wanted to believe it was just a jealous chick hating on my happiness, but deep down I knew it was more than that. “Listen, Don, I don’t know what the hell is going on with you and I’m trying to be patient, but that’s my baby sleeping down the hall, and I’ll be damned before I let anything happen to another one of my kids.”
His eyes widened, letting me know that he knew what, or in this case, whom I was referring to. “You think I don’t know that,” he stressed. “I can’t believe you gonna sit up here and think I would do anything to harm my son.” He had the nerve to try and look like his feelings were hurt, but I wasn’t bullshitting. There was no way I would allow anything to happen to Aiden.
“That might be the case,” I snarled with attitude. “But until things get better with you, the only person who’ll be taking Aiden to and from daycare will be me.”
Donovan turned his dark eyes to me and gave me an evil look, but must have seen the fear in mine and backed down. I just wasn’t about to take that chance and allow anything to happen to my only child.
As I took a seat on the bed, my mind flashed back to when I had first opened my bookstore. I had just finished working a double shift and was in the backyard lying on a recliner while my daughter, Mimi, played with her toys. I had dozed off and apparently the gate hadn’t been properly secured. Mimi had only been two years old when she had run out into the street and was hit by a car. Losing her had ripped a hole in my heart and my marriage that had taken years to repair. Just thinking about that time in my life caused my hands to shake. I’m sorry, but there was no way I could ever endure that pain again.
Donovan came around to the side of the bed, took a seat beside me, and studied my face, probably still trying to figure out if I was serious. Did I stutter? Hell yeah, I was serious.
He hesitated, then said, “Nikki, I’m really sorry. I didn’t sleep good last night. I went to the gym this morning and then tried to watch a little television and the eyelids got heavy. Like I said, I didn’t plan on oversleeping . . . it just happened. I’m sorry, baby, really I am.” Donovan grabbed me and pulled me close, and I felt my cold attitude starting to thaw. I desperately wanted to believe him. “Trust me, baby. It won’t ever happen again.”
I was starting to feel bad for doubting him. Easing back slightly, I gave him a weak smile. “I know it won’t.”
Then he French-kissed me and I wrapped my arms tightly around him and prayed that for once he was right.
6
Trinette
“Hey, Netta, baby. For some reason . . . your breasts seem bigger.”
I jerked upright on the bed and gazed at my husband lying beside me. His eyes were paying way too much attention to my 44DDs. “Leon, puh-leeze. That’s from you sucking on my damn titties so much,” I spat, then hurried into the adjoining bathroom and shut the door behind me. Thank goodness I was a quick thinker.
I moved over to the mirror and gazed at my naked body. He was right. My breasts were rounder and fuller. Damn! The last thing I wanted was for him to start noticing my body changing, especially since I was scheduled to have an abortion the following Monday.
Ever since the nurse called and dropped the Mac bomb on my life, I have been losing my mind while trying to figure out how the hell I had gotten myself into this mess. Having a baby was the last thing in the world I ever wanted. So why? I asked. Why me? Especially since I was sleeping with two different men. Hell, sometimes in the same night. So there was no way to know whose baby I was carrying until after I gave birth and trust me, that wasn’t going to happen. Besides, I worked too hard to look this good to let it all go to shit. I know too many women who’ve never gotten their bodies back after giving birth, and I just couldn’t imagine losing my perfect curves.
Turning to the side, I stared down at my stomach, making sure my stomach was still smooth and flat, and was glad to see that it still was. The only evidence was my swelling breasts.
Leon knocked at the door. “Hey, baby, you wanna take a shower together?”
I rolled my eyes. He can be so worrisome at times. I just gave him some, now he wanted to spend the rest of the weekend in each other’s arms. I was supposed to meet Jrue at two o’clock in Williamsburg for lunch and, more importantly, dessert.
“No, sweetie, because we’ll never get out and I don’t want to get my hair wet,” I whined like a little girl, just the way he likes. “I told you I wanted to spend the afternoon at the outlet mall. You wanna go with me?” I asked, although I already knew the answer.
Leon was quick to object. “No, I’m going to kick back and watch the basketball game.”
I grinned. I am so damn sneaky.
Within minutes I was showered and spreading Beauty body lotion all over me. Jrue loved that scent on me. And who am I not to give my man what he wanted?
I stepped into the master suite, then looked around the room and grinned. We’d been living in our home on Cary Street for over a year and I still couldn’t believe how beautiful it was. The master bedroom was a dream all by itself, with more than 2,000 square feet, large picture windows, a cathedral ceiling, and French doors that led into a master bath that was better than any spa I’ve ever been to with a Jacuzzi tub big enough for me and Leon. I moved across cinnamon-colored carpet where stone columns led into a spacious sitting room where Leon spent hours watching the game from a 55-inch flat screen that was mounted to the wall. He had gone downstairs, probably to find something to eat, and I was glad to have the bedroom all to myself. Leon loved watching me walk around the room naked, but after a while he’d be ready for round three, and I was trying to save some of my energy for Jrue.
I stepped into my walk-in closet. For my birthday, Leon had a contractor come in and build me all kinds of neat shelves and racks perfect for all my clothes and accessories. One thing no one could ever say was that my husband did not love my dirty drawers.
I brought a hand to my hip as I browsed the assortment of clothes in my closet. It was a shopaholic’s dream. Most of the items still had price tags hanging on them from my favorite stores such as Neiman Marcus, Saks Fifth Avenue, and Macy’s. Thanks to Nikki, I even occasionally scanned the shelves at T.J. Maxx, but I’m very selective about what I buy there, and even then I have to get there the same day the trucks arrived before everything was picked all over. There’s nothing worse than trying on a dress after several other women had it on. Just seeing the deodorant stains gave me the creeps.
I finally decided on a pair of skinny denim jeans, a ruffle red blouse that showcased the twins in the best way possible, and fire-engine red heels. I even wore lipstick to match. A sistah’s gotta keep it cute.
I grabbed a colorful leather purse and took one final look in the mirror. I had wrapped my hair so my weave draped perfectly around my shoulders. I sauntered down the double staircase into a marble foyer with a large crystal chandelier hanging overhead.
I found Leon in the kitchen making himself something for breakfast. He knew when he married me I hadn’t known a damn thing about cooking. After ten years, nothing had changed.
“Hmmm, something smells good,” I commented as I moved into the beautifully decorated kitchen. It had stainless-steel appliances, dark oak cabinets, and chocolate granite countertops. Leon was standing in front of a large island with a spatula in hand. He took his cooking skills seriously. The moment he saw me strutting into the room, he grinned like he was looking at a runway model or, in my case, a plus-sized diva.
I grabbed a slice of bacon and took a bite. “What kinda waffles are those . . . pecan?” I loved his cooking. He didn’t mind experimenting and trying new things.
“You know it, baby,” he said with that goofy grin of his. To most women, my husband probably wasn’t much to look at. He was about five-nine, thin, dark skinned with a receding hairline that seemed to get thinner every time he brushed his head. But he had the gentlest brown ey
es and an outgoing personality that people were drawn to. Not to mention, he had a financial mind that was so sharp it made him the genius that he was.
“You want me to make you one?” he asked, because my husband was thoughtful like that. That’s why we made a good team. He loved to cook. I loved to eat.
I shook my head. Otherwise, I’d never get out the door. “No, I’m not hungry. I’ll just eat a granola bar on the drive down. I gotta keep a watch on this figure.”
He was staring at my titties so hard, Leon looked like he was a second away from drooling. “I’m watching and that figure looks mighty good from over here.”
He drew me close and I leaned in and made sure my breasts brushed his bare chest. I then French-kissed him until I felt an erection jerking beneath his sweatpants.
“Damn, you keep that up you won’t be going anywhere except back to bed,” he warned with a playful chuckle. I’d been married to Leon long enough to know he was serious. He loved making love to me. He just had a problem holding out long enough for me to get mine. It’s a curse. I seem to have that effect on most men.
I eased back and smiled. “If I stay home in bed, then I won’t be able to pick up something extra special to model for you tonight.”
That got his attention. Leon’s eyes got wide with interest. “Something like what?”
Grinning, I pulled away. “I guess you’ll have to wait until tonight to see what little something something I come up with. I might even find a pair of pumps to match.”
Consequences Page 4
