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Authors: Suzetta Perkins

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18

D
rapes were pulled back as the restless and impatient group began to peek out the window and pace the room, waiting for the arrival of the honoree. A large “WELCOME HOME, JEFFERSON” banner hung across the fireplace. Margo assured the group that Jefferson would arrive shortly—getting into prison was easy, but getting out took a little longer.

Winter heard it first, running to the window to peek out and then catching a glimpse of the car that pulled into the driveway.

“They’re here!” Winter shouted, backing away from the window and falling in line with the other well-wishers.

Margo was a ball of nerves, her fists scrunched up as her excitement mounted.


Sshhhh
,” Margo hissed at the crowd so they would lower their voices and not spoil the surprise. It seemed so strange, hearing the knock on the door, but Margo moved posthaste, her smile almost larger than her face.

The moment of truth. Margo pulled open the door, and there stood her man, Jefferson Myles, the one she had promised to love, cherish, and obey until death they did part. Stacy Greer stood next to him, happy for this moment, as did the twenty or so well-wishers who waited patiently to give hugs and say their welcome. Jefferson looked worn and had lost weight, but his
healthy smile let everyone know that he was eager for the moment that had arrived. He was aided by a walker—a reminder of the car crash five years ago that had put him in a wheelchair—but rigorous therapy and the desire to walk again wrought the miracle Margo saw before her. Margo went to Jefferson and kissed him and then held him as he did her. Stacy closed the door behind them.

“Welcome home!” the anxious crowd shouted, then clapped for what seemed like forever.

Hugs, kisses, and even tears were passed around, each one thankful for the return of their brother. Margo was overcome as she saw Winter and Winston embrace their dad, accepting him back where he belonged, knowing that he had paid the price for his mistakes.

Jefferson held Margo around the waist as the well-wishers continued to share how they prayed for this day. Every other second, Jefferson stole glances at his soul mate, grateful for this courageous and steadfast woman who did not give up on him with all of his faults, insecurities and human frailties. He was going to do right by Margo, although he would never be able to make up the time he had stolen from her.

A frown formed on Jefferson’s face. “Where’s Malik?”

The question caught Margo off guard. She was aware that Malik wasn’t there, however, she had hoped that, with all the celebrating, Jefferson would be caught up in the moment and not give a thought to the whereabouts of his best friend. It was best that Malik stayed away, and Margo could never allow Jefferson to find out that Malik was not happy with his homecoming.

“He must be working late. He knows about the party,” Margo replied.

“I’ve got to call him. If you can get his number for me, sweetie, I would appreciate it.”

“May I get everyone’s attention,” Pastor said. Margo was thankful for the timely interruption. She would eventually have to get Malik’s number, but Pastor’s announcement would give her time to regain her composure.

“I’d like to say,” Pastor began, “that we are thankful this evening for our brother Jefferson Myles’ return home.”

“Yes!” the group yelled in unison.

“Brother Jefferson, we have prayed continuously for the day you and Sister Margo would be reconciled and resume your life together as husband and wife.”

Margo saw Winter nudge Winston.

“This is a time of rejoicing,” Pastor continued. “God saw fit to give our brother another chance, a chance to be restored…a chance to reclaim his life. We’re happy for Sister Margo and Brother Jefferson and this family, and we’re asking God to be with them, nourish them, give them peace and understanding and love for each other that will stand the test of time. We are denouncing the enemy that comes to seek, kill, and destroy, and we ask that this family continue to be covered with Your wings of protection.

“Now bless this food and let it be nourishing to our bodies. Amen. Let’s eat.”

Margo fixed Jefferson a plate and the others followed. This was the happiest moment of Margo’s life, next to the day she and Jefferson were married. She stayed close to him all night, wanting the celebration to be over so she and Jefferson could have a private celebration of their own.

He stuffed another chicken sandwich in his mouth and then
turned and smiled at Margo. “Don’t forget to give me Malik’s number,” Jefferson said.

 

The room looked familiar. Jefferson sat on the edge of the bed and ran his hand across the smooth silk comforter. He scanned the room, reacquainting himself with his surroundings. It felt good to be home, however, the last time he had seen this room—his and Margo’s bedroom—their lives were turned upside down.

Jefferson was appreciative of all the good wishes Pastor Dixon and the others had given him tonight, but this was the moment he had looked forward to more than any other during the last five years—being alone with Margo again.

A tear rushed down Jefferson’s face. Seeing the faces of two of his children and embracing them made his uncomfortable journey back home easy. He had hurt them too, and Jefferson wasn’t sure they had forgiven him.

It was Malik’s absence that bothered him most. Malik had visited him only a few times while he was in prison. In fact, Jefferson could count the times on one hand. He understood Malik not wanting to come to the prison because it conjured up memories of his father who was serving a life sentence for armed robbery and murder, but his absence tonight was puzzling. Jefferson would try and call him once more before the night was over.

The bathroom door clicked and Jefferson looked up. Margo emerged wrapped in a purple towel from head to toe. Jefferson tensed, not sure what to do or say. Even wrapped in all that cotton, Jefferson could still see the hourglass figure which had made him fall for Margo in the first place. She was still the beautiful woman he had married years ago, and now his body ached for her.

Jefferson felt like an awkward young buck trying to get his mack on. It had been more than five years since he had touched a woman, and now this was his wife, Margo. He remained planted on the bed, following Margo with eyes that were full of longing and anticipation. Jefferson offered a smile when he saw that Margo had done so.

“Welcome home, Jefferson,” Margo said.

“It’s good to be home. So many nights I lay awake in that prison cell angry with myself for all the pain I brought upon this family and how I had hurt the most important person in my life. Margo, baby, I’m so sorry…”

“Sshhh,”
Margo said, placing a finger over her lips. “Let’s not talk about it now. I’m glad you’re here.”

“Thanks for the welcome home. It was good to see everyone, but I’m glad they’re gone. I’ve been looking forward to just you and me.”

Margo flinched. “Me, too,” she said and then looked away. “Why don’t I help you get your clothes off and get you settled into the shower?”

“I can do it.” Jefferson looked up at Margo and smiled. “You’re still beautiful, Margo.”

Margo blushed. She sat on the bed next to Jefferson with her towel still pulled around her. “We’re going to make it.”

Jefferson smiled again and placed a quick kiss on Margo’s lips, surprising her. With the aid of his walker, Jefferson got up and went into the bathroom as Margo looked on. When the door closed, Margo let her eyes fall to the floor. She clutched the towel that was still wrapped around her, and with her free arm circled her upper torso. She closed her eyes and whispered a prayer.

 

They lay side-by-side without touching. Their eyes were wide open, each with a different view. Margo stared at the wall, while Jefferson stared at the white cotton gown that was draped over Margo’s back. He reached out to touch Margo, but at the last minute, pulled his arm back. Her body was stark still, but his subconscious fear of rejection made him withdraw.

“Are you asleep?” Jefferson asked, a slight tremble in his voice.

“No,” came the feeble reply.

“Margo, I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you. For the past five years, all I thought about was you. I love you, Margo, and if I could erase all the ugly things that brought us to this day, I would. I can’t, but I want a life with you. I understand that it may take some time for you to respond to me, but I want us to try. I need you.”

Margo did not turn to face Jefferson. She held her pillow tight and shut her eyes. What she remembered was that Malik had been there to protect her for the past five years. He had come to her rescue more times than she could count. When Margo was locked out of the house, Malik was the one who called the locksmith and came by to make sure she would be all right. Malik was her dinner companion when she desired to go out for a bite to eat, and he was her confidant when she needed a friend. While she waited patiently for Jefferson to return home from prison, Margo had unconsciously fallen in love with Malik. What was she going to do?

19

F
rustrated, Angelica headed for Greenwich Village, hoping that she would have better luck. No one was hiring; the seasonal help had been selected weeks ago. She needed a job that paid benefits and would give her a comfortable cash flow so that she could do all the things that made her happy.

Her employment adventure this morning left her exhausted and, as the train passed from station to station, Angelica had a thought. At the next stop, she jumped off the train, climbed the stairs and went to the other side to catch the northbound train. Time was not on her side, and Angelica headed back to midtown.

Angelica got off the train and hailed a cab. Once inside, she pulled her hair out of the bun and instructed the cab driver where to go. Within minutes, the cab pulled to the curb and Angelica jumped out, confident that she would have a job by the end of the day.

Outside, the sign posted on the building read Club Platinum. Angelica slipped inside and met the dark. She was guided by a light that spilled from the inside of an office around a corner. The click of her heels announced her arrival long before anyone saw her, and when she entered the open door, Angelica put on her seductive smile and switched her hips with her ponytail following.

The two men looked up and photographed Angelica with their
eyes. One of the men sat behind a desk, while the other stood next to him, both dressed in designer suits. It was obvious they were the owners and not some run-of-the-mill overseers handing out orders at the request of the boss.

“May I help you?” the man sitting behind the desk asked, his elbows resting on the desk while his eyes gave Angelica his full attention.

“Yes, you may. My name is Angel…Angel Barnes,” Angelica said. She even liked the sound of Angel—a name she was called while in prison. “I’d like to dance. I need a job.”

The man looked at her again, looked back at his partner for support, and then turned back to look at Angelica.

“What is a classy chick like yourself doing in this joint? And, you appear to be much older than the girls we hire to dance here.”

“Look, I can dance. I’m willing to audition for you now, if you like. I’ve stripped before, and I was darn good.”

“How long ago was that, Angel? Ten, twenty years ago?”

The other gentleman laughed.

There was a seriousness in Angelica’s eyes that the man behind the desk recognized. “Lady, I don’t know why you’re here, but I’m going to let you audition to see if you’ve got what it takes. This work is not glamorous, and the filthy-rich men who come in here spending their money won’t have much respect for you. They’ll eat you alive and sometimes treat you like the night women who are a dime a dozen. The only difference is that you’re inside and they’re on the street.”

“I can handle myself, Mr…. I didn’t catch your name.”

“Peter Ward and my partner, Gerald Lloyd.” Peter pointed to the other man.

“I don’t care what the customer thinks of me, Mr. Ward. I’ll be using them to get what I need.”

“All right, Angel. Do you have something you can dance in?”

“No, I hadn’t…” Angelica stopped short. She thought better of sharing the reason she was there. This was the last place she wanted to be, but it was the only place that would get her out of the hole she had been dropped into. Donna hadn’t crossed her mind until then, but if things went well at Club Platinum, there would be no time for Angelica to think about what her life would have been like if she hadn’t walked off the job. In fact, it was already yesterday’s news.

“Gerald, find something for Ms. Angel to wear. And Angel, after you’ve put on the bikini, please go to the stage; it will be lit for your audition. We’ll see you in fifteen minutes.”

“Thank you, Mr. Ward. You will not be disappointed.”

Angelica followed Gerald Lloyd to a tiny room and changed into the bikini he gave her. It was skimpier than the outfit she had on yesterday, yet it felt right. While most of her body was exposed, only she and the pole would make love to each other and the only thing touching her skin would be the Hamiltons, Lincolns and Washingtons that half-drunk men would ease under her G-string, not the repulsive fingers of another female. She looked in the mirror, took out a tube of lipstick from her purse and repainted her lips. She squeezed her lips together, checked herself in the mirror and proceeded to the stage.

On the stage were three poles that were affixed to the floor. A long-ago memory rushed into Angelica’s mind. She was a much younger woman then, and her stage exploits got the attention of the man who became her husband and took her away from the life because he didn’t want any other man laying eyes on her body. Angelica smiled at the memory and, for a fleeting moment, wondered how Hamilton was doing.

“Ready?” Peter asked, startling Angelica.

Angelica faked a smile, but she would do what she had to do.

“Any music preference?”

“Do you have ‘Golden’ by Jill Scott?”

“Gerald,” Peter shouted, “see if we’ve got ‘Golden’ by Jill Scott and put it in the player.”

Before too long, Jill Scott’s voice boomed through a set of speakers that were on either side of the stage. Angelica sauntered over to one of the poles and reached up and caressed it with her right arm. Her body followed, now parallel with the pole, and within seconds Angelica’s body began to move like a belly dancer’s. So smooth was her rhythm that it was hard not to be mesmerized…to be caught up in the lure of the sensual fantasy that was being played out on the stage.

Her ponytail fell back as Angelica wrapped one leg around the pole and extended the other in the air, her head pointed toward the floor. She swung her body around the pole, performed a sultry move and then brought her body upright, making love to the metal like it was made of human flesh. All of a sudden the music died, and Angelica came out of her trance. She was annoyed that her audition had been interrupted.

“When can you start?” Peter Ward asked, looking back at Gerald and giving him a wink.

Angelica started to hesitate but in the next breath said, “Immediately.”

“Be here at six-thirty this evening. You’re going on tonight.”

Angelica smiled. “Salary?”

“You can make up to five thousand dollars a night—depending upon what kind of night you have.”

“I can live with that,” Angelica said. “Thank you, and I’ll be here at six-thirty.”

Peter and Gerald watched Angelica disappear into the dressing room to change.

“She’s a pro,” Peter whispered. “A revenue goldmine. When word gets out about our find, there won’t be a soul left at Club Amazon.”

Gerald laughed out loud. “Goldmine!”

Angelica heard them laugh but ignored it. The job was a stepping-stone on the course she was charting for herself. She walked toward the exit, giving an extra jiggle to remind the owners why they hired her.

 

Overcast skies awaited Angelica when she exited Club Platinum. She walked to the corner to catch a cab, but took a moment to reflect on what to do next. Angelica looked at her watch. It was two-thirty in the afternoon, four hours away from show time. What would she tell Ari? She needed a place to stay, but she didn’t want him all in her business. If he’d give her a key to his house, the matter would be resolved. The wheels in her head began to click.

She pulled her cell phone from her purse and dialed. No response. She clicked off, then dialed the number again.

“Hello,” said the voice at the other end.

“Ari, this is Angelica.”

“Hey, love. Something is going down at the condos. Police cars are lined up out front. Can only talk for a second.”

“Okay, well, I got a job!

“Great, Angelica!”

“Problem is I’m working the night shift.”

“The night shift? Where at?”

Angelica was in no mood to play twenty questions, and she owed Ari nothing but the rent she would pay him for her temporary shelter.

“Ari, my shift begins at six-thirty, and I need to go to the house and freshen up. Is it possible to get a key to your house?”

There was a moment of silence. “Sweetheart, I’m not in the habit of giving out my key. You seem like good people, but I’ve known you for less than a week.”

“So why did you invite me to your house? Look, I’ve been straight with you from the beginning. My time is temporary, but I will pay rent until I get on my feet. Right now, I need a means to access my things so I can freshen up.”

“All right. Come by your cousin’s condo and I’ll give you my spare key. You may not be able to get close to the condos because of the cops. If you have any trouble, call me on my cell and we’ll work it out. I’ve got to go.”

“Thanks, Ari. I owe you.”

The line was dead.

It was easier than she thought. Angelica waved down a cab and headed for the condos. It took less than five minutes to reach the street where Donna lived, but as the cab got near, she could see that up ahead the street was blocked off and there seemed to be a lot of commotion going on.

Angelica dialed Ari’s cell phone and asked him to meet her down the street. When he arrived, his face was ashen. Ari handed the key to Angelica and, without a word, he turned and walked away. Angelica looked in her hand and smiled. Ari was having a bad day, but she was on the road to recovery and possible success.

BOOK: Déjà Vu
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