Carlton’s words this morning were impactful. He had a way of making things plain and practical. He spoke about how God equips His children with everything they need to be successful in their earthly life and in the fulfillment of their dreams.
Meesha smiled as she listened intently. Her tummy felt like it was full of tiny butterflies flying around inside; Carlton had just that kind of effect on her. Hearing his voice over the phone line made her secretly blush as she thought about their lovemaking the night before.
Carlton was an expert lover and he didn’t hold back when it came to doing whatever in order to please her. This morning, before he got out of bed, they had an encore and she was still in a state of euphoria.
“Amen. God bless you and make it a great day,” she heard Carlton say as the morning call ended. Meesha shook her head slightly. She couldn’t believe that she’d zoned out during Carlton’s devotion. It amazed her that after twelve years of marriage she still felt like a newlywed.
She got down off the bar stool and headed upstairs to wake the boys. She went to eleven year old Carlton, Jr.’s room first because he was always the hardest to wake up. The other boys, eight-year-old Marlon, seven-year old Malik, and five-year old Micah usually woke up easily. She only had to monitor them to make sure they groomed themselves properly before coming downstairs to eat breakfast.
When they finished eating, they went to the study to speak to their father before Meesha drove them to school.
After returning home, Meesha went to the study and peeked in on Carlton. He was deep in the throes of studying his message for Sunday.
She walked over quietly to him, stood behind him as he sat at his dark walnut desk, and kissed him on the side of his face. She took in a deep breath, savoring the scent of his sexiness.
Carlton stopped writing, turned away from the computer, and focused his eyes on his wife.
“Good morning,” he said as their lips met in a passionate kiss.
“Good morning,” she answered, resting her bottom on the edge of the desk next to him.
“The boys get off okay?”
“Yes.”
“Good. How did you enjoy this morning’s devotion?”
Carlton always asked her opinion before and after he presented his messages and sermons. He valued Meesha’s opinion because she was going to tell him the truth, and not just what she thought he wanted to hear. Most of the time, his messages were right on point. Occasionally, if he was overly tired, or going through some tough time due to attending so many funerals or making numerous visits to the hospital, it reflected in his message. However, one thing about Carlton was that he made sure he had a capable staff of ministers to help him manage and execute the hundreds of tasks that had to be done to successfully operate a church the size of Perfecting Your Faith Ministries. That included having ministers that were responsible for visiting the sick or officiating the numerous weddings and funerals. Carlton made certain that he performed his share as the senior pastor but it was impossible for one man, even twenty for that matter, to tend to a flock of 20,000.
“You did great, as usual,” she said kissing him on his lips. “I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks, baby.” He grabbed hold to her waist and pulled her close while simultaneously rising from his chair. He wrapped his long toned arms around her as he smothered her mouth with his. When Carlton pulled away, for a few seconds they stared into each other’s eyes like two star-crossed lovers.
“Are you ready for breakfast?”
“Yes, I am. I’m really hungry this morning.”
“Anything in particular you want me to fix you?”
“Umm, what about your famous meatless scrambler?” he smiled.
“Okay, and I’ll even throw in a bowl of grits and some toast.”
“Awww, yes. That sounds good.”
They walked out of his study hand in hand, Meesha’s head resting against his shoulder. Life couldn’t be any better in the Porter household.
Chapter 4
“Sometimes you try and ignore the obvious and shield yourself from the blunt truth; that some people are truly clueless as to how much they hurt you.” Unknown
“Get out of here! I hate you.” Peyton hollered, picking up the thousand-dollar baccarat vase from off the table and throwing it at Derek, missing his head by mere inches. “I know you don’t love me. You only married me because you wanted to get your greedy paws on my money.”
“Your money? Ha, are you kidding me? Something is wrong with you. You need mental help.” Derek Hudson frowned, then stared at his thirty-five year old wife of thirteen years like he wanted to choke the life out of her. Instead, he shook his head, cursed underneath his breath, and stormed out of the family room.
That didn’t deter Peyton. She followed him, hurling one filthy, vile obscenity after another. It was mid-day Saturday morning but she was already turned up.
“Now that you’re Mr. Big CEO and president of Adverse City Bank, you think you’re all of that. But, you’re not worth two cents. Your bank account may be in the millions, but you’re still nothing but white trailer park trash. You forget that I knew you when you were in college and living off of poor folk’s noodles. I was the one who felt sorry for you and stuck by you, helped make you into the man you are today. I could have had any boy I wanted back then, but I chose you. But, you know what? I can’t blame anyone but myself. I guess back then I took one too many Ecstasy pills.” She laughed, then stumbled and almost fell but the wall held her up.
“You need to shut up and go lay your drunk behind down.”
“Don’t you talk to me like that. And I’m not drunk.” Peyton weaved slowly, like she was walking a tight rope.
“Then don’t you come at me with your crap,” Derek yelled back.
“You act like you’re so high and mighty. You wouldn’t be who you are if it wasn’t for my parents helping you out. It was my daddy who gave you a start and opened the door for you to make it in the banking industry.”
“Your daddy didn’t do a thing for me!”
“You’re a liar. He did,” Peyton screamed. “Not only did he help you get into banking, he’s the one who connected you to the right people and told them about that App you invented and made you the wealthy scumbag you are today. You wouldn’t have a dime if it wasn’t for him and for me,” she said, her words slurring as she pointed one finger of her sculptured nails at herself. She regained her footing and started walking up on him.
“You sound like a fool,” said Derek, biting his bottom lip and shaking his head. She didn’t see his clinched fist. It was like he was ready to pounce on her if she punched him, something she had done many times when she was in a drunken state like she was today.
“Mom, stop it already,” her fourteen-year old son, Liam, pleaded as he walked in on her verbally attacking the man he idolized. “Please, Ma. Just go back to bed.”
Peyton immediately refocused her attention from Derek to Liam. “Who the hell do you think you’re talking to?”
Derek’s hand went out, keeping his son from walking any farther into the room. “It’s all right, son. I’ve got this.”
“Hah, and who are you supposed to be?” Peyton asked, turning away from both of them and heading toward the bar area located just to the right of the family room. “I don’t need this crap this early in the morning. Do what you want to do, just leave me alone,” she told them both as she waved up her hand and disappeared.
This time, Derek was the one who followed. As she was about to go behind the custom designed bar to retrieve her favorite bottle of Vodka, he grabbed hold of her elbow. “No, you’ve had enough. Come on, you’re going upstairs and sleep this off,” he insisted.
Surprisingly, Peyton didn’t protest. Sprigs of her curly blond hair were in her face, covering her blue bloodshot eyes. As Derek led her toward their bedroom, Liam appeared and stationed himself next to his inebriated mother.
Peyton looked at her son and started bawling. “I’m such a bad m
other,” she cried. “I’m sorry, baby.” She sobbed while Derek continued leading her up the spiral staircase to the third floor of their elaborately decorated home.
“It’s okay, Mom,” Liam reassured her. “Just do what Dad says and get some rest.”
She stopped walking and looked at her lanky, freckle faced, brown-eyed son who she described as the spitting image of his father.
“You’re such a good son. I don’t deserve you.” Next, she looked to the other side at her husband. “Why do you keep putting up with me? Why don’t you just divorce me? I’m ugly and I’m fat,” she said, tears flowing down her pale-skinned face.
“You’re not ugly and you’re not fat,” Derek told her in a calm, reassuring tone. “Now, come on. I’m going to put you to bed. You’ll feel better after you take a nap.”
Liam took hold of his mother’s other arm as she took the last few steps to the third floor landing.
Peyton kissed her son on his cheek. “Thank you, baby.”
“No problem, Mom. Get some sleep,” Liam told her and then turned and went back downstairs while Derek continued escorting her to her bedroom.
Chapter 5
“One of the hardest parts of life is deciding whether to walk away or try harder.” Unknown
“Look, I don’t know why you’ve decided to bring up the past, and of all times tonight. I told you, she meant nothing to me.”
“If she meant nothing to you, then why is she still calling your phone?” Avery held Ryker’s phone in her hand with a vice like grip. “And you think I’m just supposed to trust you again? I can’t do it, Ryker.” Avery began to cry.
Avery was thirty-seven years old. She had given Ryker two beautiful little girls. Eight-year old Lexie looked just like her father with coffee bean brown skin, deep brown, doe shaped eyes and a head full of black hair that Avery kept in two braids that cascaded down the little girl’s back. Six-year old Heather, people often said, looked more like Avery. Heather had features like Avery’s French Canadian mother and African American father. Heather’s hair looked more blondish brown in the summer months and darker in the winter months. Avery kept her hair in one long ponytail down the center of the little girl’s back.
“Do you really want to do this? Because I don’t think you do,” Ryker stated while standing in front of the dresser in the bedroom, tying his tie.
“It’s not my fault,” she continued to cry. “And I won’t let you make it my fault.”
Ryker finished the last loop, surveyed his handiwork, and then turned around to face Avery who was sitting on the edge of their bed with one leg tucked underneath her Kim Kardashian bottom.
“You’re the one who started this. It’s your fault. You pushed me into the arms of another woman. Why don’t you admit it,” he accused as his voice escalated.
Avery covered her ears with both of her hands and shook her head from side to side. She quickly jumped up and ran toward the bathroom.
“Don’t run now,” Ryker told her. “You wanted to go here, so now we’re here.” He trailed behind Avery and was a second quicker than her, stopping her from closing the bathroom door in his face. “Let me refresh your memory since you seem to be having a bout of amnesia tonight.” His arms flailed as he unleashed his verbal tirade. “You’re the one who wanted to awaken your inner freak, I guess,” he said, laughing mockingly. “It was you. Not me. You’re the one who told me to find someone that was willing to share our bed. I did that. I did that for you, Avery. Remember?” Ryker was practically yelling by this time while Avery kept shaking her head and holding her hands over her ears. “Was it your sick way of trying to bring our stale relationship back to life? Huh, Avery?” Ryker kept talking.
Avery kept her hands over her ears as she went and sat down on the toilet and tucked her head between her knees.
“You all of a sudden got a word from Jesus,” he wobbled his head in a sacrilegious gesture. His jaw flinched as he bit down on his bottom lip. “Then you started acting like you were sorry about it all. Well, I’m sorry, too. I’m sorry that I couldn’t turn a whore into a housewife. I’m sorry I had the unmitigated gall to believe that you got with me because you loved me and not because of my fat bank account. You know what? I don’t care what you think anymore. You run up to that church practically every Sunday, you and your girls pretending like you have it all together. Who do you think you’re fooling? Who, Avery?”
Ryker turned around swiftly and walked out of the bathroom. Before he left the bedroom, he walked back and stood at the bathroom door. “If you want to know why Olivia still calls me, why don’t you ask her. You should be able to ask your own cousin,” he said then stormed out of the room.
Avery got up from the toilet only to collapse onto the heated concrete tiled floor. In a balled up heap, she sobbed. She didn’t know why she told Ryker she wanted to have a ménage a trois. Maybe it was because somewhere during the ten years they’d been together, their relationship seemed to have hit a brick wall.
Ryker had faired quite well as a prominent, well-respected attorney, so much so that he was a millionaire several times over. When Avery met him, he was in Las Vegas attending one of the largest trial attorney conventions in the country. She, along with several more ladies, had been set up to provide special entertainment. Ryker and some other attorneys were treated to a private set complete with strippers who weren’t afraid to take it all off and give the gentlemen whatever they asked for, as long as the money was right. Avery was one of those girls.
When Ryker asked her for a private dance in his hotel suite, for the right price, she obliged him. She usually didn’t get involved with her clients, but something about Ryker was different. He was a fairly decent looking man, but Avery had seen better, lots better. He was average height, about five nine, had a slight gut on him from eating what she figured was plenty of steak. She remembered that he had the most gorgeous smile she’d seen a man display, and his teeth had to have been braced when he was younger because they were perfectly straight and white as snow. He was kind to her that evening and she broke another one of her cardinal rules, which was not to fall for her customers. That night, not only did she sleep with Ryker, she spent the night with him, and the next night and the next night, and every night after that up until the time he had to leave Las Vegas and return to Florida.
She didn’t see him again after that until about seven months later. As fate would have it, she moved to Florida with her aunt and her family because she wanted a new start and a chance to start her life fresh.
Avery had been in Florida for less than two months when she saw Ryker walking into a restaurant where she had gotten a job as a server. When she saw him, he was accompanied by three other men. All of them looking good, real good in their black suits, white shirts, and designer ties and shoes. She was lucky enough to be the waitress for their table that day. At first, she was nervous to go to his table, not sure what he was going to say, or if he would even remember her. But her apprehension quickly faded when he watched her as she took their orders. After she memorized all of their orders, Ryker smiled and winked at her.
At the end of her shift that evening, he returned to the restaurant and asked her to go out with him. She couldn’t believe that he would want to see her again. To make sure he understood that she had turned over a new leaf in her life, she let him know right away that the girl he met in Las Vegas was not the woman he was talking to today.
Ryker seemed pleased. He asked her if she would consider going out on a real date with him that weekend coming up. She accepted and they had been an item ever since.
Now, here it was, nine years later, and he still hadn’t legally made her his wife, but no one knew that. Not Peyton. Not Eva. Not Meesha. No one. She’d given him children, and he’d given her the 8,600 square foot, three story house, they lived in and anything his money could buy. She tried to be a good wife and mother, but she felt like a phony. Maybe that’s why she did what she did. Maybe she wanted to see if he would really go fo
r having a threesome, when deep down inside she didn’t want him to agree to do it. She was confused, had been drinking that night, and once it came out, there was no turning back because after Ryker got over the initial shock of what she suggested, he acted like he was all for it.
She pulled herself up slowly from the bathroom floor, got dressed and silently thanked God that Lexie and Heather were spending the weekend with Ryker’s parents. The house was empty. The housekeeper wouldn’t be back until tomorrow morning and only God knew when Ryker would return. She had plenty of time to kill herself.
Chapter 6
“Only your real friends will tell you when your face is dirty.” Sicilian Proverb
Dressed to the hilt in their church attire, Eva Stenberg minus Harper, and Peyton with Derek and Liam strolled into Perfecting Your Faith Ministries. The sanctuary was filling up quickly as it did every Sunday morning. They held three services; 8 a.m., 10 a.m., and 11:45 a.m. The housewives attended the ten o’clock service most of the time. On occasion, they would attend the first service so they could get their church time done and out of the way.
The four of them made their way to the middle of the sanctuary toward their seats. It wasn’t like they owned special seats in the mega church, but it was like an unspoken word that they all sat in the same section and on the same rows every Sunday.
When they made it to their seats, Derek and Liam stood to the side, allowing Eva and Peyton to sit down first before Liam took the seat closest to his mother. Derek sat next to his son.
“Have you talked to Avery?” Peyton asked Eva, turning slightly around to face her as they walked down the carpeted aisle to their seats.
“No, I called her a couple of times last night, but she didn’t answer her phone.”
The Real Housewives of Adverse City Page 2
