Betrayed (2 page)

A book can't exist without the publisher who invests time and money to give an author voice. Zane and Charmaine, I appreciate you, Strebor Books, from the bottom of my heart for your continued support of my work. My endeavor is to always give the reader a good story and you've allowed me to do so. It's a unique experience to be part of the great Strebor family.

To my agent, Maxine Thompson, you are a jewel. I appreciate you because not only are you a hustler, but you believe in me…my work and understand my passion. I promise to move on some of those promotion strategies we discussed.

I'd like to end with a salute to you my readership. Writing is
my passion, but you give my passion wings. Your email that encourages me to write “the sequel” is the best form of flattery. I have stories waiting to get out, although, as my dear friend, Juanita Pilgrim tells me, I'm not moving fast enough. But I will get them out. I appreciate the two-page list of things that should be in the next book, Saundra Shorter. Emily Dickens, I appreciate the candid conversations we had about the characters as if they were real people. First Lady, Nancy Anderson, thank you for your unwavering support. LaWanda Miller, thanks for the cheerleading chants, and Mary Farmer, thanks for being my friend. Karen Brown, congratulations in advance because your book is about to be born.

September 27, 2008

I don't believe in fairy tales or happily ever after. It's not possible because I have a deep dark secret concealed in the bowels of my being, threatening to explode and expose what I've taken pains to keep hidden for the last nineteen years. There's no need to try and figure it out since there's nothing about me…nothing that I've said or done over the years that would betray my secret. That's what I want to believe, but the truth is, there was always a chance I'd be exposed…that the truth would be revealed.

The only reason I'm saying anything at all is…I'm afraid. My days may be numbered…maybe weeks away from discovery. I'm afraid that all I hold dear will suddenly vanish from my grasp. Scorn me. Point an accusing finger at me. Look at me in disgust and write me completely out of the lives of those I love dearly.

In the event something happens to me, I want Raphael and Afrika Nicole to know that all I've done was to protect them. My thoughts are premature, but going back to a place where I have no desire to go frightens me. And if I have to, I'll fight the demons that may threaten to smear my good name.

My name? My friends call me Mimi, although it has nothing to do with my real name, Setrina. Mimi was bestowed upon me by my best friend, Brenda. I like to sing and run up and down the scales like I'm Aretha or somebody. But the truth of the matter is I haven't sung many
songs, despite attempts by big record companies to make me a star because they happened to be in the one place I decided to let my hair down. I turned them down; exposure would certainly put me in the limelight and attention is the last thing I want.

Wow, I haven't said Brenda's name in years. Reason being, she's part of the secret or should I say…one of the reasons I have a secret at all. Actually, I never expect to see her again.

Mimi Bailey

M
imi sat in the kitchen at the round glass table inset in black marble atop black wrought-iron legs and re-read the entry in her brand new journal. Satisfied, she closed the cover and pulled the book to her chest, reliving in her mind the conversation she'd had a few days ago with her daughter. For nineteen years she had managed to bury and keep a secret hidden and safe, and now the decision to return to Durham, North Carolina, against her better judgment, could possibly make her nightmare a reality.

Unpacked boxes littered the hallway of her new, two-story, two-bedroom condo positioned on a lake. The newness still hung in the air like a home that had been ravaged by fire; only it was the smell of freshly painted walls and new carpet instead of burnt wood.

Mimi sat up straight at the sound of voices at the front door. “Hey, Mommy,” Afrika shouted. “I brought home my new friend that I was telling you about.”

Looking for a place to hide the journal, Mimi jumped up from her seat and pulled out a drawer that she had unconsciously labeled junk, and threw the book in it. She turned around and stared into the face of her daughter and another young lady who looked much like Afrika.

Mimi's eyes jutted from their sockets and lit up like lights on a
Christmas tree as she gazed at what appeared to be a clone of her daughter. She held onto the kitchen counter with her hands for support, her back up against it, afraid to let go for fear that she'd faint.

Mimi closed her eyes for a second and, in her subconscious, saw the man who had torn away her clothes and violated her, leaving her humiliated and broken.

Afrika laughed and snapped her fingers. Mimi opened her eyes. “Mommy, what's wrong with you? You look like you've seen a ghost.”

“Nothing. Nothing at all.”

“Mommy, are you sure? Don't get all weird on me.”

“Yeah, yeah!” Mimi couldn't take her eyes away from Afrika's friend.

“Well, this is Asia; the friend I've been telling you about.”

“Asia?” Mimi mimicked. “Oh, my God.”

“I know,” Asia began. “People say that Nikki and I could pass for twins.”

“Twins,” Mimi said under her breath. Slapping her hands on her hips, Mimi leaned to one side and looked at Afrika. “So you're going by Nikki, now?”

Afrika always liked to be called by her first name. Prior to coming to Durham, all of her friends called her that.

“Your name is not Nikki?” Asia asked.

“Nikki is short for Nicole, but it's my middle name. Now, Mommy, please. I want to be called by my nickname, if you don't mind. As Asia was saying, we're known as the freshmen twins.”

Asia continued, “Everyone freaks out when we tell them that we only met a few weeks ago.”

“You and Afri…ah, ah Nikki are twins, they say. I must apologize for staring. Ah, Nikki,” Mimi looked at Afrika to confirm that she
had chosen the right name, “told me about this wonderful person she had become friends with and had so much in common with. I just didn't know how ‘in common.'”

“I'm a little darker than Asia, but our hair is about the same length and we wear it in a ponytail. We're about the same height, and we both love pizza,” Afrika said all in one breath. “But, Mommy, you won't believe this. We both had a sixth finger that was taken off.”

Mimi's tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth and refused to open.

“Mommy, what's up with you? Did you hear what I just said?”

“Afr…Nikki, I heard you. I'm shocked; that's all,” Mimi said, not venturing to look at Asia. She wanted to run as fast as her legs would take her. It was a mistake, coming back to Durham. Her husband had begged her to go to Germany with him, but it was Afrika's desire to go a Historically Black College—North Carolina Central, to be exact. Mimi didn't want to hear anything else—nothing about what Afrika and Asia had in common and in particular, who Asia's parents were. She held her heart until she felt Afrika shaking her.

“Mommy, what's wrong? You're acting so strange. Should I call Daddy?”

“No,” Mimi said, catching her breath and really taking a good look at Asia this time. “Ladies, forgive me. I'm a little stressed out with all the moving. I'm going to make an appointment soon to make sure I'm all right.”

“I'm going to call Daddy,” Afrika said, full of concern.

“No, no, that won't be necessary. All your father will do is worry.”

“My dad is in the Army,” Afrika explained to Asia. “It's his last tour of duty, and he wanted Mommy to go with him. But you
know how mothers are. Mine followed me to Durham so that I would have someone close by, if I needed anything.”

“Where did you come from?” Asia asked.

“Fort Riley, Kansas. My dad was stationed there, but I'm glad to be in a big city. We had to drive either to Topeka or Kansas City to experience the life of a big city.”

“My parents, my brother, and I have lived in Durham all of my life,” Asia explained. “But my grandfather was in the military, and he and my grandmother lived in Germany once.”

“So did my grandparents,” Afrika said. “Wow, another coincidence.”

“It's a small world,” Mimi finally said.

“I stopped by so Asia could meet you, Mommy. I was hoping that you would be up to going out to lunch. I told Asia what a cool mom I had—that you were fun to hang out with, that you loved shopping, and that you were the life of a party and could sing your ass off. Oops…I mean, can sing your butt off.”

Mimi smiled.

“Yeah, you're going to have to hang with us one Saturday, Mrs. Bailey,” Asia said. “Maybe do some karaoke. And I want you to meet my parents.”

Mimi fixed her face so the fear that seemed to encompass her body wouldn't show. She didn't know what it was, but it was more than a premonition. If anything, the cause of her fear was standing in front of her. No facts to prove anything, but it didn't seem to be a case of mistaken identity.

With a smile on her face, Mimi patted the two girls on their backs. “I'd love to hang out with the two of you one Saturday. Just give Mommy some advance notice, ah, Nikki.”

“Great, Mommy.”

“And don't forget; I want you to meet my parents,” Asia said again.

“Okay, okay,” Mimi said with less conviction as she wiped her brow with her fingers. “I'll do that.”

She kissed Afrika and gave Asia a hug goodbye.
If your parents are whom I think they are
, Mimi thought to herself,
I have no plans to ever meet them
.

She watched as Afrika drove off. Then a terrible thought lit up her mind like an unexpected lightning bolt that splintered the sky. What if Asia took Afrika to meet her parents? Would the same thoughts cross their minds that had crossed hers when they saw Afrika?

“My God, I have to warn Afrika,” Mimi said out loud. But to warn her would require Mimi to give Afrika an explanation. What would she say?

The devil was definitely busy and conspiring to wreak havoc on her life; although she hadn't been in Durham a good month. At any cost, she was going to shield her child from the threat that might possibly expose her secret that had the potential to be a tabloid size story, even if it meant giving up the $300,000 condo she had yet to completely furnish. Mimi pulled her journal from its hiding place and began to write again. She ended with “Afrika must never find out.” Signed Mimi Bailey.

“Y
our mom was real tense,” Asia said to Afrika, as they drove down Fayetteville Street heading back to their dorm. “Maybe you should call your dad, in case something is really wrong with her.”

“You're right,” Afrika said. “I can't figure out why she was acting so strange, and I don't know what I'd do without Mommy, if something happened to her. She's devoted her entire life to me—to make sure I had the things I needed. Even when she protested my going to Central, she gave in with some reservations, and instead of going to Germany with Daddy, she came here so that she would be available to support me whenever I needed. My mom was once offered a recording contract by Clive Davis of Arista Records.”

“You mean the guy who made Whitney Houston a household icon?”

“Yep, one and the same.”

“Oh, my God, Nikki! That's so exciting. Why didn't your mother sign?”

“I was seven at the time, but according to my grandma, Mommy said she couldn't subject her daughter to the life of a recording artist and she was obligated to be there for her husband and his military career.”

“No offense, Nikki, but that sounds like a cop out. Maybe your mother was scared. Did she live a sheltered life?”

“No, my grandparents were and are still very outgoing. They lived for my mom. In fact, they encouraged my mother to sign the contract so she could live her dream.”

“What about your dad?”

“I don't think he was as excited about it, according to my grandma. At the time, my dad was a young Army officer barely starting his career, and he understood what the recording industry was like since one of his close cousins was a rapper. But Grandma said Daddy would've let my mom sign, if she really wanted to. So I chalk it up to her being afraid. Maybe it was even out of her comfort zone. But at church, if someone asked Mommy to sing for a big event, girlfriend, she would throw down. I wonder if she regrets not signing that contract.”

“Maybe we can get your mom to sing at a campus function.”

“That's not a bad idea.”

“If you don't mind, Nikki, let's stop by my house so I can introduce you to my parents. I'd love to see their faces when they see you; although, I've told them all about you.”

“I guess seeing is believing.”

“They're going to do a double take like your mother. You may have already seen my father.”

“How so?”

“He works in the Admissions Office on campus. In fact, he's the director. You couldn't miss him. He's kinda handsome, if I do say so myself. I hear what some of those wild bitches say about him.”

“Well, I haven't seen any fine, sexy man on campus, let alone at the Admissions Office. Call and see if your parents are at home.”

Asia pulled her cell phone out of her purse and dialed her parents' number. Just when she was about to hang up, someone answered on the fourth ring. “Trevor, that you?”

“Hey, Asia; what's up, sis? How's college? Momma's going to give me your room.”

“Hold up, Trevor. Stop talking crazy and telling lies on Momma. Ain't no way you and your stanky gym shoes smelling self is going to find a way into my room. Not even in your dreams, boy.”