Young Wives

by Olivia Goldsmith

  She hated this plan, she hated being in Michelle’s house, and she hated Clinton and Tonya. How had she allowed herself to be talked into it? Thank God she had Michael and Bill with her to help her stay calm and to be witnesses.

  Now they were ready to help Clinton carry the stuff away down the block, but Tonya wasn’t through window-shopping. “She need her big bed?” Tonya asked. “He go to the joint, she won’t need a big bed. But we could sure use one.”

  Angie thought of all of Tonya’s denials under oath that she and Clinton were having an affair. Maybe Jada was right—the system just didn’t work. Ah, but there was justice to be had; she stopped in her restraint of Tonya’s free furniture campaign and remembered the scene up in Marblehead with Reid glued in place. She couldn’t help it, she had to smile. She wouldn’t mind seeing both Tonya and Clinton glued to this mattress, but as far as she knew, it wasn’t available.

  “I’m sorry,” she said coldly. “That belongs to Mrs. Russo.” She had been playing the part of attorney, though why Michelle would need an attorney to give away her furniture didn’t seem a question Tonya would ask Clinton, though, was so busy taking freebies he didn’t seem to care. She looked at her watch and excused herself, going into the south bedroom and looking out the window. Jada had to be on her way to church by now.

  Had she actually done it? She paused. There, dark against the sky, was the answer to her question—a plume of smoke twisting in the wind. Angie shivered. Hell hath no fury, she thought. It would be perfect timing, she supposed. She checked to see that the wig and outfit were ready, and that she had the spare keys to the Volvo. She went back to join the other four downstairs in the living room.

  Clinton was removing the cushions from the sofa so that Tonya could carry them, while the three men were getting ready to heft the sofa itself. Angie opened the door as Bill backed out and down the front steps, Michael and Clinton following with the rest of the sofa between them.

  They were almost to the sidewalk, Tonya ahead of them with her awkward burden, when Angie simultaneously heard Tonya’s wail and Michael’s exclamation. Bill, with his back to the house, didn’t know what was going on. When Clinton looked up, he let go of his end of the couch; Tonya dropped the cushions and began running. Angie herself ran to the sidewalk, and though she saw the back of the Volvo around the corner and knew time was pressing, she couldn’t help it. Like the other moths, she was drawn to the flame.

  Clinton’s house was already burning merrily. The upstairs windows were lit with a rosy glow. The smoke she had seen was not coming from the chimney, but was rolling out the back of the house. The front door was open and inside what had once been the hall, Angie could see the floor and the walls already licked with bright orange flames.

  “Oh my God!” Tonya cried.

  “Is anyone in there?” Michael asked.

  Clinton, his mouth open, shook his head. “The kids went to church with my wife.”

  “Are you sure?” Bill asked. “The children are out? No one visiting? No cats, no dogs?”

  “My stereo!” Clinton said. “My rotary saw!”

  “I’ll call 911,” Michael said, running back to Michelle’s house.

  But someone already had. The fire truck pulled up behind them, its scream matched only by Tonya’s. “Get the pickup!” she yelled. “Get the pickup out of the driveway!”

  Just as the fireman arrived, an upstairs window blew out with a whoosh. The stink of melting plastic and burning polyester and nylon carpet hit them in a nauseating wave. Firemen were everywhere.

  “No one is in there,” Angie told the chief. “The house is empty. No pets. Nothing.” He nodded his thanks and called out to one of the men. Angie grabbed Bill’s elbow. “Tell Michael I have to go,” she said. “I have to tell Jada.”

  Bill nodded his head. Then he looked at Angie. “She didn’t?” he asked, his face serious.

  Angie tried to keep her face blank. “She didn’t,” Angie agreed. “Tell Michael. And don’t you or he go near the house. No dead heroes.”

  “Don’t worry,” Bill assured her.

  66

  Oh, heavenly Father

  Jada met Samuel outside the church. “Go in on your own,” she told him as her social worker approached. Ms. Patel seemed even meeker than usual, looking around nervously at all the dark-skinned people milling forward.

  “Would you like to join us in worshipping the Lord?” Jada asked her, putting it on as thick as she could. “Jesus has a big welcome for everyone.” Of course, that was true, but Jada didn’t think that Ms. Patel would necessarily feel that way, or want to be a part of the service. At least that was part of Plan A. And Plan A seemed—so far—to be the only one necessary.

  “I will sit in the back,” Ms. Patel said. “Or perhaps take some air. Do not worry about me.”

  Jada smiled. She wasn’t going to worry at all. “God bless you, Ms. Patel,” she said, and meant it. With luck, it would be the last time she ever spoke to the woman.

  People were arriving and most had already entered the church, but nobody could say that Jada was late. She carried the baby in front of her, and with Kevon on one side and Shavonne on the other, she stepped down the main aisle and made sure that she said hello to as many members of the congregation as she could. They were witnesses, every one.

  She took her seat as decorously as an arsonist could possibly manage. Reverend Grant was already up at the pulpit, leafing through some announcement papers. Jada folded her hands, told Shavonne to stop wiggling, and tried to compose herself.

  Lord, she prayed silently, I just did something very, very wicked. And I know that, but I can’t truly say that I’m sorry. I didn’t break a commandment, and I didn’t physically hurt anyone. I just felt that I had to stand up for what was fair. Forgive me, Lord, for any sin I committed in Your sight, and protect my neighbors and the firefighters if they get there. But Lord, if it’s possibly Your will, please let the house bum right down to its foundations. And then help me to get my babies away.

  At that moment, Sherrilee picked up the necklace from around Jada’s neck and put a blue bead into her mouth. How strong was the chain, Jada wondered, versus how much noise Sherrilee would make if she plucked the necklace out of the baby’s hands. She searched through her bag and took out a bottle nipple that she sometimes let Sherrilee use instead of a pacifier. Sherrilee’s eyes opened with joy, as if she were greeting her long-lost and very best friend. Well, that would keep her quiet.

  The service began with a hymn. Kevon sang lustily, while Shavonne, at first, tried to mumble when she could. But soon the spirit moved her, and by the last chorus she was singing as loudly as the rest of them. Jada smiled, closed her eyes, and said another silent prayer. All she wanted was for her children to be able to lead good family lives.

  She opened her eyes as the hymn ended and glanced across the aisle to Samuel Dumfries. He was sitting across from her, looking attentively up at the minister. He looked stable, successful, and upright, the last person in the church that anyone would think was to help abduct three children. Just goes to show how looks can be deceiving. The man was risking so much for her. Jada closed her eyes again. Please, Lord, help me get away with this, and be sure that no harm comes to my friends or Samuel Dumfries for helping me.

  The next hymn was announced: “The Lord Is the Only Home You Need.” Jada almost smiled. Since she’d thrown the match she wasn’t sure where she was going to live now, the Lord was the only home she had. But wasn’t this a sign? She wasn’t a believer in that sort of thing. The congregation sang together and some of the women behind Jada got the spirit. But it was only the warm-up. When the next hymn was announced, Jada had to cover her mouth with her hand. “We’ll now sing ‘Light a Torch For Jesus,’” Reverend Grant announced.

  Oh, Lord, Jada thought. Even for a woman who doesn’t believe in such things, this has to be a sign. There have been some dark days, and You have certainly tried my soul, but surely this means that You are helping me.

/>   “Mommy, I’m hot,” Kevon said. “Can I take off my jacket?”

  “May I,” she corrected, “and the answer is no. Not in church, Kevon.”

  He sighed and put his thumb in his mouth. Reverend Grant cleared his throat and began the sermon. “How many of you,” he asked, “have heard God speak?” Several voices were raised in answer. “But how many of you have seen the Lord?” Reverend Grant inquired again. There were fewer answers but the room was heating up with the spirit.

  “Not many people are granted that gift,” Reverend Grant intoned. “Moses heard the Lord, but he did not look upon the Lord’s face. Moses saw only a burning bush. Fire was the way the Lord showed himself to Moses.” Jada’s eyes opened wide. This was almost too much. “When Moses took the Israelites across the desert, the Lord appeared as a tower of smoke in the daytime and a tower of flame in the night. You had to be brave to follow the Lord. You had to be daring to leave a home of bondage and wander into the unknown, looking for the promised land.”

  Jada could hardly believe it. Homes, torches, burning bushes, and towers of flame. She knew she was meant to do this and her last bit of guilt disappeared. “Thank you, Lord,” she whispered, and her eyes filled with tears. The sermon went on and on, but Jada heard no more. She was poised to go as soon as she could. She looked at her watch, and noticed Samuel checking his.

  When they called for the choir to come up front, Jada rose and made sure that the children did, too. She moved toward the front of the church, though Shavonne gave her an inquiring look and said, “I’m not singin’.”

  “Shhh,” Jada told her.

  Discreetly, waiting his turn, Samuel Dumfries rose and joined the moving bodies. People were already making a joyful noise and Jada had the nerve to turn and see if Ms. Patel was watching, but either she was lost behind the standing crowd—she was a very small woman—or she was waiting in the vestibule for all of the noise to be over. Smoothly, moving past the rest, Jada walked past the pulpit to the side nave and out the exit door, Samuel Dumfries now right behind her.

  “The car is there,” he said, and she followed him. This was the moment she had feared, the moment she had prayed over. If the children didn’t agree, she swore that she would make Samuel turn around. She’d face the music for whatever crimes she’d be accused of.

  What if they said no? What if, at this very moment, the children decided that life with their father, that life in a known quantity, was what they desired? That they weren’t willing to leave their friends, their school, their grandmother? Jada was willing to make every decision for them necessary but they had to realize what they were leaving behind and be willing to do that.

  Jada got them into the backseat of Samuel’s car while he got into the driver’s seat, then she sat down in the passenger’s seat and turned to observe her children. “All right,” she said, “listen up. I wanted us to be together, all of us together, as a family, but Daddy didn’t want it that way. He wanted Tonya. And he loves you—but so do I. He didn’t want me to see you very much, or live with you. So we’re going to leave here and go to where we can be together. Unless you say no.”

  “Is he going to be our new Daddy?” Kevon asked, pointing to Samuel.

  “No, of course not,” Jada assured him. “You only have one Daddy and you only have one Mama. But sometimes they can’t live together.”

  “So you want us to live with you?” Shavonne asked. And Jada looked at her daughter and held her breath.

  “Honey, I’ve always wanted you to live with me. Every single second. Didn’t you know that? It was Daddy and I having the fight over that. I never, ever wanted anything else.”

  “Really?” Shavonne asked, her eyes growing big, the way they used to when Jada told her a fairy tale.

  “Of course,” Jada said. Was her daughter going to go for it? Was her daughter going to let her pull off this caper?

  Shavonne leaned over and hugged Jada for the first time in what felt like months. “Really, Mom?” she asked, her cheek crushed to Jada’s.

  “Really. Really. Oh, baby, I love you,” Jada said.

  “So, where we goin’?” Kevon asked. “And who’s he?”

  “We’re going to grandma’s and grandpa’s, at least at first,” Jada said. “And after that, well, we’ll have to see. It might be hard, at the beginning. A new school, new friends.”

  “Are we goin’ to live down there?” Kevon asked. “By the beach?”

  “Yes, sweetie. We’re going to try to.”

  “Hooray!” Kevon shouted. “I’m going to go swimming every day! Can we live right on the beach?”

  Out of the corner of her eye, Jada saw Samuel smile. “I’m not sure,” Jada said. “Shavonne?” she asked. “Is this okay with you?”

  “We get to be with you, Mama? Every day?” Shavonne asked.

  “All the time,” Jada promised.

  Then, “Yes! Yes!” Shavonne said, a little less fearless than Kevon, but a lot more aware.

  “Okay,” Jada said, turning around and putting on her seat belt while she silently thanked God. Then she turned to Samuel. “Step on it.”

  67

  In which the final chapter is written

  Michelle pulled up to the curbside check-in, got out of the Lexus, and waved for a skycap. “Are we taking a plane to our new house?” Frankie asked.

  “No, honey. We’re just saying good-bye to our friends. Then we’ll drive to our new house. Jenna, take your brother out of the car and stand with him over at the curb.” Jenna, for once, didn’t argue, and did as she was told. Michelle had had a serious talk with her daughter and Jenna knew now that they were making big changes.

  “I have a lot of luggage here,” Michelle called out to the porter, and began to unload Jada’s new suitcases, all packed with the equally new clothes that she and Michelle had bought together. It would be a good way to start their new life. “I packed them with my sister,” Michelle lied. “She’s parking her car. I’m about to go park this one.” She pulled out a twenty-dollar bill. “Here are our airline tickets. Could you just keep an eye on this stuff and my children until I get back?”

  “Well, technically I’m not supposed to.” Security at the airport was berserk. As if a real terrorist would answer questions honestly or be deterred by these guys.

  “Sir,” she said. “My sister has three children. They’ve got a lot of luggage. It couldn’t fit in one car. And she’ll miss her plane if I have to park and drag it back with my kids. She’ll be pulling up any minute. Please,” she said, pulling out another twenty. “I’m trusting you. I’m not asking you to check it or anything.”

  The man took the money and nodded. Michelle smiled at him and then drove the Lexus over to a fairly close short-term parking space, running back as fast as she could. “What are we waiting for, Mom?” Jenna asked, antsy.

  “We’re waiting to say good-bye to somebody,” Michelle told her.

  “Can I go in and watch the planes take off?” Frankie asked. “Can I get some candy? When we go to the airport with Daddy, we always get candy.”

  “You can get a chocolate bar in just a few minutes, when we go inside,” Michelle said, bending her no-sugar-before-dinner rule. She retrieved the tickets from the skycap and she walked up and down the curb; it seemed like an endless amount of time until, at last, Jada pulled up with the children and Samuel.

  Jada slid her long legs out of the car, stood up, and looked around. “We’re at the wrong airline,” she said, looking confused.

  “Not for the Caymans,” Michelle told her, and looked at Samuel, who nodded.

  “Wait a minute,” Jada said. “I don’t have the money to go there. I’ve got to take my chances in Barbados.”

  “Let’s just get checked in,” Michelle told her calmly. “Everything is under control. We can discuss the latest update once we’re safely inside.” She looked around nervously, as if expecting Clinton or the police to pull up at any moment.

  Jada looked at Samuel, who was calmly unloading
the rest of the luggage. He nodded. “This had better be good, Mich,” Jada said.

  “It’s very good,” Michelle told her. Meanwhile, Kevon had climbed out of the back of the rental car, and he and Frankie greeted each other happily. Shavonne and Jenna acted as cool as preteens with mixed feelings could manage. “You have to check in all the luggage and answer the security questions,” Michelle told Jada.

  “It would be easier if I knew where I was going,” Jada snapped tartly. Michelle handed an envelope to Jada and turned back to the skycap.

  “Here’s my sister, and the rest of her luggage,” she said. He opened his eyes wide, looking the group over; five children of assorted colors; a lanky blonde; a tall, tawny-skinned woman; and a very dark black man obviously were more confusing than his sexual mathematics were up to. Wait till he sees Angie! Michelle thought. He shrugged and rolled the luggage cart to the terminal door, following them without another question. “Come on, kids. First class. Flight Three-two-one,” Michelle announced.

  “First class?” Jada asked, as the group moved together to the counter. “But Michelle, I can’t afford it. And if you cooked this up, you shouldn’t have, and even if you could, then I should save the money for other things—”

  “Oh, relax,” Michelle said. “I think it’s finally appropriate to.” She looked around. “So long as Clinton doesn’t show up at the last minute, and Angie does, we’re home free. Now just answer the security questions and let’s get up to the gate.”

  Jada handed her passport, the kids’ birth certificates, and the tickets to the very, very thin woman behind the counter and watched as the luggage was moved to the scales. Everyone in economy was waiting on a long snake of a line. The first class clerk looked up. “This is first class,” she said, as if Jada had got it wrong.

  “I’m aware of that,” Jada said coldly.