Every Woman Needs a Wife (28 page)

“A real woman would stay at home and raise her children,” he told her and then added insult to injury by asking, “What kind of mother are you?”

“A mother with a brain and the ability to do three things at once: raise a child, run a business, and keep her husband happy. What is it that you do?” she said. “Oh, yeah, right…um, help with the business? You don’t lift a finger to do anything around here, and I’m sure diaper detail and housework is beyond your understanding.”

“That’s not my job,” he shot back. “My mother managed to keep everything intact and was happy taking care of me and Dad.”

“I’m not your mother.”

His lips curled into a sneer. “Well
that’s
a given!”

“You know what?” she said, waddling up to him, a hand splayed across her protruding stomach. “In a minute, I’m gonna put my foot so far up your ass, your intestines will thank me for cleaning you out.”

He paused, as his jaw dropped. “I’m gonna let that slide, ’cause as big as you are right now, you can’t make good on that threat.”

“I’ll try and manage it when you’re sleep. You’ll be too busy snoring and drooling to notice. You give a whole new definition to the words
full of shit
.”

“How can you raise our children right if you’re not here?” he asked, following her. “I don’t want them raised by babysitters and day care centers.”

“I didn’t want children in the first place.
You
wanted them. You want to stay home and raise them? Fine with me! I don’t see you volunteering to do shit else,” Brandi snapped. “You want to be head of household? Let’s see you do more than just talk a good game. Do what I do, which is practically every damn thing. So don’t question me about how I want to do things!”

Vernon walked away and she followed, trying to finish her point. “Ever since the business moved up a level, you’ve been trying to run my life. I’m the same woman you married two years ago, with the same goals and everything. Now you want the reins because your father’s pushing your buttons? Maybe you should stay with him and see what it’s like. Fuck you and him,” she said, looking an angry Vernon in the eye. “Don’t make my life miserable because your balls are swinging a little low. I’ve had to do what you do and then some, so when you reach my level, then we can talk.”

The argument, laced with vicious comparisons between her and his mother, would undermine the happy points of their marriages. But she had made a point before accepting his proposal to let him know that she had every intention of being a business woman. She had also let him know that she didn’t want children—period. And surprisingly enough, he was cool with that—at the time.

The change began after his father started making hints about certain things: Brandi shouldn’t have so much say in the business, Brandi should be at home with a family, Brandi this and Brandi that—all aimed at putting
her where William thought every woman should be. Then when Vernon joined the League of 1,000 Professional Black Men, all that testosterone in one place only bolstered his arrogance. None of the men from the League had women who shared businesses with them. Slowly he began to pull away and the change in him became more pronounced. Oh, to have the Vernon she had met in college again.

He’d always been a bit arrogant, but underneath he’d been sweet, compassionate, and most of all patient. And his response to his father the day the man insulted her showed her that Vernon was willing to go the distance.

As Brandi held Vernon in the powder room, and the vicious words between the Spencers spiraled over them, she made a decision right there and then that she would marry him. She would prove Vernon’s father wrong. She was not low class and Vernon was not average and uninspired.

Following the argument, Brandi followed Vernon back to the spacious dining room. He held out the chair for her before taking the space right next to her.

His father pursed his lips and glared at Brandi as he and Bettye reentered the room. “So, Martell. I mean, Champagne. Oh—I’m sorry, it’s Brandi, right?”

Vernon stood, walked to his mother, and planted a gentle kiss on her forehead. Then he extended his hand to Brandi, who stood and placed the napkin on the table between the glasses and the shiny silverware.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” William bellowed.

“Someplace where my future wife will be respected.”

“You’re—you’re—you’re not thinking of marrying this girl?”

Vernon looked his father square in the eye. “More serious than anything in my life.”

Brandi saw the pain in Vernon’s eyes. For the first time she understood his long spells of silence. She understood his drive to be better than everyone else. She also understood that Vernon would probably never accomplish the one thing he wanted most—gaining his father’s approval.

He was the first man who had ever tried to burrow through the shell she’d erected. Even Michael had been too polite to do more than give a
cursory inquiry into her past; almost as if he was following some rule book only he knew about. He didn’t inspire her to give more of herself than required. Vernon, by his intensity, his patience, his gentleness, his aggressiveness—the very contradictions of him had pulled to her, forced her to love him.

That night, she opened up to him, giving Vernon a condensed version of the rape. That night, they only cuddled, and he held her as she cried. And she had cried more tears than a human body should produce. Cried for everything that had been done to her that day. She cried that her father had not been there to protect her and love her. She cried because she had finally found someone who loved her, truly loved her in a way that allowed Brandi to be Brandi. And lately, that first time was something she held onto during lonely nights.

She loved him then, despite his flaws. She loved him and always would. Even his involvement with Tanya wouldn’t make that love go away. She was disappointed that somehow, despite everything, he would still let someone else dictate his definition of a man. The mistress thing had his father written all over it. How William managed to keep three with Bettye only finding out three years ago was a minor miracle. But Vernon was nothing like his father in some aspects, and alike in the places he shouldn’t be.

No wonder he got caught the first time out.

T
anya swirled past Brandi, leaving a breeze of Satsuma behind. “I left the keys on the dinner table. The kids are at Avie’s house.” With a weary shrug of her shoulders, she strolled briskly, bags in hand, toward the front door.

“Wait.”

Tanya froze, slowly turning back to face Brandi.

“I’m sorry, it’s just been a rough day.”

Tanya lifted her chin, lips quivering in an effort not to cry. “Then don’t take it out on me!”

Her wavering voice sent a stab of guilt into Brandi’s gut.

“You know, deep in my heart I knew that this was all about revenge for you.” Tanya said. “And me? Well, it was because I was too afraid to go forward. Too afraid to try and make it on my own. I’ve learned a lot from you and I’m not afraid anymore.”

Brandi just stared at the woman, mouth slightly parted to speak.

Tanya didn’t give her the chance. “It’s coming back to bite us in the ass. Every time something goes wrong with you and Vernon, you turn your anger my way. And I’m tired of that shit.” Her chest rose and fell with indignation. “I may not hold a degree and I may not have a fancy business or anything like that, but I sure as hell don’t deserve to be trampled on, either. I have feelings just like you, I have needs just like you, and though you swore up and down you’d do a better job, at least if you
had
a dick, you’d be understandable. I thought Vernon had you beat, but your mood swings are killing me.”

“All right, I apologize.” Brandi rubbed her temple, sure that another headache was trying to come through. “I want you to stay. Put your things away,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand.

“No!”

Brandi looked up, frowning. “No?”

“No.” Then she had nerve enough to roll her neck better than any sister Brandi had seen. Oh shit!

Brandi leveled a steely dark gaze on the woman with a tear-lined face and pain-filled eyes. “I’m not begging your ass for anything.”

“And I’m not asking you to,” Tanya said softly, still holding ground in the middle of the floor. “But if you want me to stay, then there’s going to be some changes around here.”

“Like what?”

Tanya placed her bags down, and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand like a little child. “A new contract. This time I want
my
needs to be considered.”

Brandi sank down on the sofa, mumbling, “Damn, the woman has been taking notes!”

♥♥♥

It wasn’t like Tanya was stupid in the first place. She was once an outgoing, popular student, who played the violin and flute, and was a member of the cheerleading squad and the debate team. At one time, there wasn’t a party invitation or social event that didn’t have her name written all over it.

By the time she turned twelve, though, Tanya had lost interest in everything that she once considered important. The beginning of the second semester of her freshman year,
party
didn’t mean much to her anymore. People didn’t, either.

Tanya’s friends barely recognized her. She slapped her shoulder-length hair back into an untidy ponytail instead of wearing it in perfect spiral curls. Baggy jeans and sweatshirts that looked like she had raided the Goodwill store replaced the stylish clothes from Rich’s, Macy’s, and Belk’s. She wore
clothes much too large for her slender, shapely body—a body she tried to conceal at every possible turn.

Tanya usually wore a little lip gloss, eye shadow, and a light touch of blush on her cheekbones. Now her lips were cracked and almost bleeding. People walking past her on the street could easily mistake her for an unloved and abandoned little girl. No one would believe that Tanya had a mother who was part of the Social Circle elite and a father who owned most of the town. Her only comfort came from the one woman who had provided wisdom and a quiet calm for as many years as Tanya could remember. Mattie, their maid, kept a quiet watch over Tanya and her little sister, Mindy. Unfortunately, Daddy fired that wonderful woman at the end of seventh grade, about the same time Tanya had grown breasts. About the same time he began touching her whenever he walked past.

Even Michelle her best friend since first grade, didn’t matter anymore. Though she was Black, people marveled at how much alike they were because their clothes, style, and attitude were close. Whenever Tanya purchased clothes, she always bought two—practically making them twins. No one could make that mistake these days.

One day in school, Tanya was ignoring everything as usual when she heard from behind her, “Tanya! Tanya, wake up!” She didn’t have to turn to know it was Michelle.

“Girl, it’s hard to catch up with your behind these days. What’s up with you?”

“Nothing. I just want to be left alone,” Tanya said, walking faster, hoping to outpace her friend.

Michelle sprinted forward, whirled around, and stopped squarely in front of Tanya, whose gaze landed on the short row of lockers leading to the bathroom, then on a few of the passing students. Finally, Tanya’s eyes focused on the black and tan squares on the ground, but not before she’d gotten a look at Michelle’s cute denim outfit and healthy golden skin. Tanya felt ashamed she’d even stepped out of the house. Michelle placed a hand on her shoulder, gracefully displaying a freshly done manicure. “Hey, it’s me. Your girl from the east side of the tracks.” Tanya couldn’t even
smile at the reference to her friend’s home. “You’ve been brushing me off.”

“No, I haven’t—”

“Don’t even try,” Michelle snapped. “We don’t do homework together. We don’t do lunch anymore. You’re always in the library or something. You even missed Alicia’s birthday party, the one we talked about for weeks.” The hand trailed over Tanya’s shoulder. “What’s going on?”

Tanya shrugged, slipped under Michelle’s hand, and glanced briefly over her shoulder. “Nothing. Just leave me alone.” The new glasses made Michelle’s almond-shaped eyes even more beautiful, but Tanya didn’t miss the sad look that flashed in them before her friend turned and trudged away.

Breathing a small sigh of relief as the last few students left their lockers, Tanya quickened her step, hoping to make it to her safe place—the library—before anyone else stopped her.

Mrs. Patton’s slender ivory hand came out of nowhere, blocking Tanya’s path as it landed on her shoulder. The sudden contact from her English teacher both stunned and frightened her. “I need to speak with you.”

Tanya groaned. “What’s with everyone today?” She shrugged off Mrs. Patton’s hand as though it carried a lethal disease and tried to keep going. “I don’t have time right now. Maybe later.”

The loud, solid
splat
of a hand slamming on the wall right in front of Tanya made her wince, then stand still.

“We’ll talk right now, young lady, or I’ll have to call your parents.”

Now
that
got Tanya’s attention. Mama was the last person she wanted to see. And her dear old Daddy could be six feet under and that still wouldn’t be a safe distance.

Tanya followed Mrs. Patton to the empty classroom across from the lunchroom, and plopped into the seat right next to the desk, a spot normally reserved for parent conferences, or students who needed a little extra help.

The gray metal desk was off to the left side of a dark green chalkboard. Yesterday’s assignment displayed in bold white chalk was a frightening reminder that Tanya hadn’t done her homework for the class. Actually, she hadn’t done any other class work, either.

Soft gray eyes fixed on Tanya as Mrs. Patton opened her classroom schedule and grade book. “You’ve missed four assignments this week.”

Tanya shrugged, staring absently at the chalkboard. “So.”

“The work you’ve turned in,” Mrs. Patton said, impatience creeping into her soft voice,
“when
you decide to do the work, has been poor. You’re dangerously close to failing this class.”