A Little Bit of Karma

by ReShonda Tate Billingsley

  “Drink this.” Nicole returned and thrust the coffee cup at me.

  I took it without protest and gulped down the hot liquid. I grimaced—I hated black coffee—but Nicole was right: I needed to pull it together. I was a professional, and no matter what I was going through personally, this was not the way to deal with it.

  I took small deep breaths as I stood and tried to get my bearings. Nicole pulled out some more paper towels, wet them, then handed them to me. I took them and dabbed away the smeared mascara. Nicole helped me finger-brush my flyaway hair, then stood back and smiled.

  “There, much better,” she said, before glancing down at my feet. “Except for the shoes. Is that a new fashion trend, purple shoes with pink floral?”

  I managed a smile. “I guess we can say it’s a trend now.”

  “Yeah, I think that’s one trend I’ll pass on.” She grabbed my arm. “Now, come on. Let’s go put on an Academy Award–winning performance; then tonight, we can go back to my room, drink virgin drinks, and talk about how men aren’t anything but dogs.”

  “Except for Emerson. You have a good man.”

  “And we’re going to find you a good man. Someone worthy of Shannon Lovejoy.”

  “Parker. Shannon Parker,” I replied, sniffing as I lost my smile. “I’m going back to my maiden name.”

  “Whatever you want, sweetie. Just drink the rest of this coffee.”

  I gulped the hot liquid, then smiled in gratitude. I was glad to have someone like Nicole in my corner. Not only as an employee but, more important, as a friend.

  ten

  Throughout my marriage, I’d been used to women looking at me with envy. But today, this woman sitting in the first row in the auditorium seemed to be transmitting more than envy. Her face was filled with disdain.

  She looked extremely familiar, but my mind was so jumbled that I couldn’t place her. She caught me staring, then stood, shot me a hateful glare, and marched to the back of the room.

  Nicole arranged some papers on the podium. The event was standing room only.

  The rest of the awards brunch had gone off without a hitch, thanks to Nicole. I had even managed to smile and act happy as the Family First president raved about how the Lovejoys were “the example of how all marriages should be.” I’d wanted to laugh and tell him how wrong he’d been. Instead, I just nodded and accepted the accolades. And I’d kept my attitude at bay. So I definitely deserved to be awarded. I’d been the consummate actress. Viola would have been proud. I’d even made it through the day’s events without crying or cussing Jay out. But the act was exhausting, so I had turned in early. Now I was refreshed and alert this morning.

  “Did you see that woman glare at me, then stomp to the back of the room?” I asked once Nicole had returned to her seat next to me. “I’ve seen her somewhere before but I can’t remember where. Maybe I gave her some bad advice.” I shrugged, refusing to give the woman the satisfaction of knowing she was getting under my skin.

  Nicole laughed. “Or maybe she’s mad because she’s alone.” Nicole motioned around the room to all the couples.

  “Hey, Nicole,” Jay said, walking up to the stage.

  “Good morning, Jay,” Nicole coolly replied. She had to remain professional since she was, after all, both of our producer. But as my friend, Nicole made no secret of the fact that a part of her was hot with him for hurting me.

  “Good morning, Shannon,” Jay said.

  I gave him a terse hello, rose, and walked away. I’d gotten up and worked out this morning and we hadn’t seen each other before making our way to this first session.

  The event was designed to be a Q&A on what men and women wanted. We got things started, then fell into a natural rhythm as we had a candid discussion about what makes a marriage work. The discussion got heated at times as people asked questions and audience members gave unsolicited input. It took everything in my power to keep from interjecting my personal opinions. But when the woman with the attitude who had been glaring at me stood, took the mic from the intern taking questions, and said, “Can we address the topic of why men cheat?” I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep my personal feelings at bay.

  The question unnerved Jay and his reaction didn’t go unnoticed. He probably wondered if I was going to put him on blast. I decided to step in before he could deflect the question.

  “I think that’s a great topic to discuss,” I quickly said. “Anyone in the audience care to chime in first?”

  A lady in the front row raised her hand. “The answer to that is easy. Men cheat because they’re dogs.”

  I second that, I wanted to say.

  “If you keep calling a man a dog, don’t be surprised when he starts acting like one. After all, you spoke it into existence,” some man yelled from the back of the room.

  “They cheat because of Viagra,” someone else shouted.

  “I think they cheat because the sluts they cheat with have no moral compass,” another woman interjected.

  Another woman in the back raised her hand and immediately began talking. “I take offense to that,” she said. “I have dated several married men. But it’s not like I go looking for them. They find me.”

  The woman was wearing a low-cut blouse with cleavage that screamed “Look at me!” Of course men found her, I thought. She showcased her boobs like they were a GPS system.

  “Don’t you feel bad about doing that to another woman?” someone asked the woman.

  “That’s the thing… I’m not doing anything to anyone,” the woman replied with an attitude. “I have no loyalties to some woman I don’t know. If a man is going to cheat, he’s going to cheat. That’s just how it is. I’m not doing the cheating for them. I’m not making the men do anything they weren’t already going to do.”

  Several of the men in the room shifted uncomfortably like they really would rather not have been a part of this conversation.

  But the man who had spoken up earlier stood up. “Most men don’t wake up and decide, ‘Hey, I want to cheat.’ They’re lacking something,” he said.

  “Oh, miss me with that bogus excuse,” some woman from the left side of the room said.

  It was time for me to take back control of this situation before they started yelling at one another. My life was enough of a reality show. I didn’t want to turn this conference into one.

  “People in committed relationships should understand that there’s a profound probability that both parties involved will be tempted,” I interjected, “usually several times over the course of their relationship. That’s a part of life. What they choose to do with that temptation is up to the involved individual.”

  Jay wouldn’t look my way. He probably knew my eyes were boring into him as I waited for him to weigh in.

  “Am I supposed to deny myself something I want in order to preserve the false integrity of a marriage between people who aren’t satisfying each other?” the man said.

  “The bottom line is that the desire to cheat is a part of human behavior,” I continued. “But that doesn’t give anyone carte blanche to do it.” I turned my attention back to the big-chested woman. “I do agree that you’re not the one at fault here—you aren’t the one who made vows to someone else; therefore, you’re not the one to blame for the failure to honor vows. It’s the husband who pledges himself to his wife. He’s the one who bears the brunt of the responsibility for being unfaithful to his wife.”

  “So just remember, ladies,” the woman replied with a sly smile, “treat your man right, and he probably won’t end up with a girl like me.”

  “No, you should remember that if he cheats with you, he’ll cheat on you,” someone on the other side of the room snapped.

  The woman rolled her eyes at that, and Jay quickly stepped in.

  “We really don’t want this to turn into a bitchfest on infidelity,” he said. “We want to focus on resolving the issues that tear us apart. And one of those is communication. Let’s talk about ways to properly communicate.”
>
  I glared at him. Of course he’d try to change the subject. But the crowd was game, because someone raised their hand and asked about the five love languages.

  We spent the next thirty minutes in candid discussions about that and everything from shared responsibilities to rekindling the magic to the conversation that hurt the most for me—falling out of love.

  When we wrapped up and dismissed the participants, Jay quickly began gathering his things.

  “We need to get going,” he said to me. “We have to meet with the people from the foundation.”

  I wondered why he was rushing. That meeting wasn’t for another thirty minutes. It was obvious anything that shone a negative light on him made him uncomfortable.

  “In a minute,” I said, turning to talk to a woman who had walked up to have me sign a copy of our book.

  I opened the book but kept my eyes on Jay, because the woman who had been glaring at me at the start of the program had walked up to Jay and was standing directly in front of him with her arms crossed.

  “Can I talk to you?” she asked.

  I stopped in the middle of signing my autograph. At first, I was just glancing out of the corner of my eye. But now I stopped writing altogether. The woman standing in front of me also turned and was watching Jay and the woman, as were several other people in the front of the room.

  “I’m a little busy,” Jay said, feigning a smile. “I have to get to another meeting.”

  “Well, we can talk in private,” the woman said, motioning around the room, “or we can talk right here, in front of everyone.”

  Nicole’s eyes were glued to Jay and the woman as well. My best friend was poised and ready to take off her producer’s hat and go into full best-friend-got-your-back mode.

  “Excuse me for a moment, please,” Jay finally said to a couple who were waiting to talk to him. He motioned toward a side door that looked like it led to a storage room; then he and the woman headed in that direction. I stood frozen until Nicole shot me a What the hell are you waiting for? look.

  “Excuse me as well,” I said, handing the book back to the woman in front of me. I quickly headed toward the door through which Jay and the woman had gone. I had just reached for the doorknob when I heard Jay say, “What the hell are you doing here?”

  I tugged at the door and was angered when I saw it was locked. I tapped on it, even though I wanted nothing more than to kick it off its hinges.

  “Jay, it’s me, open the door.” I heard some mumbling, but the door didn’t open. This time, I pounded. “Jay, I swear to God, if you don’t open this door, I am about to act a straight fool and you know I’ll do it.”

  A minute passed, then he eased the door open. Defeat blanketed his face. The woman stood there with her arms still crossed, attitude on full display.

  I stepped inside the small room, which was stacked from the floor to the ceiling with toiletries and cleaning supplies. An assortment of brooms and mops lined the wall.

  “What’s going on?” I asked, looking back and forth between the two of them. “Who is this?” I asked, but I already knew. This was the reason my marriage was over.

  “Yeah, Jay, tell her what’s going on.” The woman was defiant. Entitled, even. “Tell her who I am.”

  My jaw was tight as I looked at her. “How about you tell me who you are?” I said.

  The woman pursed her lips in defiance but didn’t bother to answer.

  “Shannon, let me handle this,” Jay said. “Please?”

  I held up my hand and whipped my head toward my husband. “I’m not talking to you.” I turned back to the woman, who slowly unfolded her arms, her hands going to her hips. Jay having an affair was one thing; bringing that woman to this conference was grounds for justifiable homicide.

  “If you must know, I’m Vonda Howard,” the woman said.

  I suddenly remembered where I’d seen the woman. At the book signing the other day—the woman who hadn’t wanted Jay to sign her book.

  I kept my glare on her as I said through gritted teeth, “Jay, you’d better tell me what’s going on before I turn this place upside down.”

  Jay sighed in resignation.

  “You’d better tell her, because I’m tired of this. All these empty promises,” Vonda said. Her voice had started quivering now. “I’m fed up with your games. With your lies. And you told me she backed out of the conference.”

  “Backed out?” I asked incredulously, staring at the woman. “It’s the Lovejoy conference. Led by both of the Lovejoys. Me back out? What kind of sense does that make?”

  “Well, I didn’t think my man would lie to me,” she said with a smirk. “But I guess I was wrong.”

  “Vonda!” Jay said.

  My man? I felt like someone had taken a bat and hit a home run into my stomach. “Excuse me? What did you just say?” I had heard her loud and clear. I just couldn’t believe what I heard.

  “My. Man,” Vonda repeated.

  “Are you talking about my husband?” I said, trying to keep my voice steady, as I was sure no one had left the auditorium.

  “Your soon-to-be ex-husband,” Vonda corrected.

  “I knew you were low down but this is unbelievable even for you,” I said, turning to face Jay. “You not only cheat, but then you have the audacity to bring your side piece to our event?” It was taking everything in my power to keep that South Side of Chicago I’d been reared in at bay.

  “No,” he protested. “You have to believe that I would never do that.”

  “Whatever,” Vonda said. “You know—”

  “Shut the hell up, Vonda, with your stupid, delusional ass,” Jay snapped.

  She rolled her eyes but shut up. I was in shock. Jay didn’t talk to women like that. And what kind of woman would even let him talk to her like that?

  “Shannon, please, let me explain.” Jay stepped closer to me and I stepped back.

  “You are such a liar,” I said. I was trembling in fury.

  “And don’t think you’re going to get half our money,” Vonda said before Jay could respond. “You need to just lick your wounds and go on your merry way.”

  My focus immediately shifted back to Vonda. This woman was certifiably crazy. “Our money?” I took a step toward her again. So much for appearances. I was about to unleash my rage and beat this woman down in the broom closet. “Bi—”

  Jay jumped in front of me to stop me. “Shannon, no, this isn’t the time or the place. I’m going to need you to calm down. Please don’t let her get you out of character.”

  That made Vonda’s eyes grow wide. “Why are you worried about her, Jay? Huh? What about me? How do you think I feel?” she cried. And not just in tone. She had real tears trickling down her face. I couldn’t believe this whole scenario. In that moment, I saw my mother pleading and crying and disgust filled my stomach.

  Vonda continued. “I’m sitting out there watching you two play lovey-dovey. You told me that your marriage was over, that it’s been over.”

  “Vonda, please just shut the hell up,” Jay said, exasperated. He clenched his fists and I swear if I didn’t know better, I would think my husband was going to punch this woman.

  Vonda crossed her arms defiantly. “All I know is I told you, I’m not going to be the other woman for long, and I’m not. I guess you thought I was playing. I gave up a lot for you, and I’m not going to let you treat me any old kind of way.”

  I took a deep breath. I was going to take my soon-to-be ex’s advice and stay calm. Jay wasn’t worth it. “Whatever, Jay. You and this bitch can go to hell.”

  “I’m a bitch with your man.” Vonda chuckled half-heartedly. Her whole demeanor had changed just that fast. “How ’bout that?”

  I stared at her with pity. “And you say that like it’s a good thing.”

  “Oh, it is. I know how to keep a man.”

  I laughed—a deep guttural, pain-filled laugh. Part of me wanted to snatch this woman’s long, golden brown hair out of her head. The other part just
said, Let it go. I would not sully my reputation, my career—over my husband’s side piece.

  “Sweetheart, he’s all yours,” I said as I turned to walk out the door. I had finally come to the realization that it was time to let my marriage go, and if Vonda Howard wanted my husband so bad that she would travel halfway across an ocean for him, then she could very well have him!

  I ignored Jay calling my name as I headed in the opposite direction of the auditorium.

  eleven

  I was still fuming. I’d been unable to attend any more workshops or sessions yesterday because I couldn’t bear to face the people who had to be curious about what was going on with the Lovejoys and that “mysterious woman,” as Nicole had referred to her.

  But I was scheduled to conduct the first session of today alone, so I couldn’t skip it. Besides, I’d decided I wasn’t going to let Jay and his mistress make me hide out in my room. I was going to do my job and get through this week; then my husband and that tramp could go live happily ever after.

  I didn’t know where Jay was, and I didn’t care. I’d disappeared after the broom closet fiasco, taking a cab into the city, telling only Nicole where I was going. I’d spent the day sightseeing and losing myself in the solitude of the island’s beauty. I’d wished I had Ivan’s number, because there would’ve been no guilt this time.

  I’d heard Jay come into the suite last night, shortly after I did. He’d knocked and asked if we could talk, but I’d refused to answer him.

  This morning, I’d heard Jay moving about the suite. He’d most likely gotten up and gone to breakfast. Then again, he could’ve gone to see his mistress. Probably the only reason he didn’t spend the night with her was because he didn’t want people at the retreat talking.

  I pressed the down button to summon the elevator, then stepped on when the doors opened. There were several people inside it, two I recognized from yesterday’s session. They flashed sympathetic smiles as I stepped on. I could only imagine the rumors that were swirling around and this was exactly what I didn’t want—someone’s pity.