Every Woman Needs a Wife (29 page)

Tanya remained silent, wondering how long it would take the woman to get the message—
she didn’t care
. The shrill ring of the final bell almost made Tanya jump from the chair. Her nerves were raw. She was angry with everyone and everything. That is, when she wasn’t afraid, and there were a lot more of those times than she cared to count.

She pulled her black jacket tighter around her body, but the coldness she felt had nothing to do with the cool temperature in the room. The sun’s rays pouring through the smoke-tinted glass windows were bright and warm enough to make Mrs. Patton’s plants thrive, but not enough to sweep away the anger, pain, and fear that had become a regular part of Tanya’s life.

Tanya took a long, slow breath. “Means I’ll have to go to summer school. It ain’t so bad.”

“It
isn’t
so bad,” Mrs. Patton corrected, peering at her so intensely she wanted to shrivel up and disappear.

Tanya leaned back in the hard wood chair. “Whatever.”

The teacher’s gaze bored into Tanya until she felt naked and lost under the intensity. “What’s with this attitude? You’re the top student in my class and all your other classes. Well, at least you were. This attitude is so unlike you. Talk to me,” she said, taking Tanya’s hand.

Tanya snatched her hand away as though scorched by an open flame. “Don’t touch me!”

Mrs. Patton’s left eyebrow shot up as she stared at Tanya, who quickly regretted her action but couldn’t help herself.

Several icy moments later, Mrs. Patton moved her chair, closing the gap until there were only a few inches separating teacher and student. “That’s certainly new. Along with your snappy answers, lack of interest, the way you dress, and the way you don’t make eye contact with anyone.” Mrs. Patton closed the grade book, dropping a ballpoint pen on top. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were using drugs—”

Tanya’s head snapped up. “I don’t touch that stuff.” This time, her eyes made contact with the teacher whose awards and plaques for an outstanding job were more a part of the classroom than pictures of her family.

“Good to hear, but something’s going on and either you’re going to allow me to get to the bottom of things, or I’m going to call your father; we’ll see what
he
has to say.”

Tanya sat still, trying to think of a way out.

Minutes later, Mrs. Patton’s chair scraped the ground as she stood and said, “Fine. You leave me no choice.”

Tanya gripped the teacher’s white blouse so tightly it almost ripped. Wrinkles instantly appeared where her hand connected with soft cotton fabric. “Please leave Daddy out of this,” Tanya whispered, trying to keep the few bites of sandwich she’d had for lunch from resurfacing. The classroom suddenly swam out of focus and she found it very hard to breathe.

“Come on, Tanya,” Mrs. Patton said softly, patting her hand gently, eyes wide with alarm. “Let me take you to the nurse.”

“No, I’m all right.” Tanya said between breaths, willing the nausea to go away. “I just want to be…I’ll turn in all of my work tomorrow. I promise. I won’t give you any more trouble.” Had someone turned the heat up in the room? Small beads of sweat peppered her forehead. Tanya couldn’t break down. Not here. She had to get out of the room—and fast. “I’ll be back.”

Mrs. Patton spoke in a tone that painted a world of trust. “I’m not finished talking to you, Tanya. I want to help, but you’ve shut me out. I don’t know what else to do.”

Tanya’s slender body trembled as she tried to breathe slowly, evenly. “Mrs. Patton,” she whispered before turning away, facing the empty rows of chairs. She was used to the noisy comfort of her classmates, the spit-balls being thrown when Mrs. Patton’s back was turned, notes saying
I love you
being passed back and forth, or the sighs coming from the entire class when a pop quiz was announced. Tanya could deal with that, but her problems were now so much deeper. “I can’t tell you. Even if I could, I don’t know where to start.” Tanya looked at the teacher who had always
encouraged her to do more. Mrs. Patton was the reason Tanya had joined the debate team and cheerleading squad. She had told Tanya that with time management a girl could do whatever she wanted.

The woman cautiously reached for Tanya’s hand. Tanya pulled away at first, then slowly, timidly, placed both hands in Mrs. Patton’s. The warm hands cradled Tanya’s cold ones. The move said,
trust me
. Tanya wanted to so badly, but…

“Talk to me. You can trust me. Let me help you. I’m here for you, just like I’ve always been.” Mrs. Patton’s thumb stroked gently across Tanya’s hand. “Are you pregnant?”

“No.” But Tanya had to think about it for a moment. “At least…I don’t think so.” Her voice broke and sobs poured forth no matter how much she tried to keep it together.

“It’s all right,” Mrs. Patton said, as Tanya reached out and held on to her.

She began rocking gently back and forth. A small cry of pain escaped her lips, followed by a low, whimpering sound.

“It’s all right, Tanya. Take your time. Everything’s going to be all right.”

Tanya nodded as Mrs. Patton’s reached for the tissues on her desk. Tanya’s voice came out in a whisper. “He…hurt me.” Tanya took in a breath and shifted uncomfortably on the chair. Her hands repeatedly rubbed her thighs as though wiping away imaginary dirt. “Daddy…hurt…me.”

Mrs. Patton froze. Her small intake of breath sounded like a cannon blast in Tanya’s ears. She felt the woman’s body stiffen with anger, then she saw the teacher’s face softened with compassion.

“At first it was just him…touching me,” Tanya said softly. “It always made me uncomfortable, but I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know what to do.” Tanya sighed, then linked her fingers together, then loosened them, and began wringing her hands like a dishrag. “Then it started happening more and more. Then he started coming into my room late at night after Mama went to sleep or if she was out doing charity work. And he…hurt me. It…hurts. Every time.” Tanya barely managed to say the words without breaking into sobs. “I used to love my daddy. Now I’m so afraid of him that I’m afraid to go to sleep. I’m afraid to go home.” Tanya
stood, almost knocking Mrs. Patton over, and rashed toward the door.

Mrs. Patton raced after her and attempted to console her as Tanya slumped to the floor.

“You can’t tell anyone. My family is all I have,” she whispered, fear penetrating every cell in her body as she realized what she’d done. “I want my mama, but I can’t tell her this. She’ll hate me.” Tears blurred Tanya’s vision. She felt so small. So invisible.

“Your mother could never hate you. She loves you so much.” Mrs. Patton’s warm, soothing voice echoed in the empty classroom. “She would never have wanted this to happen to you.”

When Tanya glanced up, the wetness on Mrs. Patton’s cheeks only made Tanya cry more. Mrs. Patton understood. She really did.

“I saw the signs, Tanya, but I wasn’t sure. I hoped that you would come to me when the time was right. But I could see that you were sinking deeper and deeper in despair. I had to do something today.”

“Maybe Mama won’t believe me. Daddy owns this town. Mama might not want to see him go to jail.”

Mrs. Patton shook head. “Your safety, your healing, your situation come
first
. Don’t try to think or work out things for the adults who will be affected by your reporting the abuse. You have a right to be safe. Remember the incident happened to
you
and
you
are the person who needs protection and help.” Mrs. Patton moved so that her face was only inches from Tanya’s. “Do you think your mother would really care about money if she knew her little girl had been hurt? If anything, we’d probably have a hard time getting her to let the police handle things because she’d be so angry she’d want to go after your father herself.”

Tanya wiped her tear-stained face with a baggy sleeve. “Mama will blame me. I mean, she’s always telling me to wear those old conservative clothes.”

Mrs. Patton shook her head sadly. “Grown women—grandmothers even—covered from head to toe or wearing business suits, have been raped. It doesn’t have anything to do with what you’re wearing. There are cases where boys have been sexually abused, and we know that they mostly wear jeans and T-shirts and don’t have breasts or curves.”

Tanya stared at Mrs. Patton as if her words alone would ensure safety.

The seconds ticked by as Mrs. Patton stayed silent. After a while she said, “I’ll talk to your mother and tell her everything I know about sexual abuse and let her know about all the options available to both of you. I’m also a rape advocate for Walton Medical. I can be with you through this and help smooth things over with your mom so you can really deal with what happened to you. The choice is yours.”

Tanya shrugged. “I still don’t know. How can I tell her something like this? She really loves Daddy.”

“Yes, but she loves you, too. Mothers have a special bond with their children. You’ve heard of mothers running back into a burning building to get their children out?”

Tanya nodded.

Mrs. Patton’s soft smile warmed Tanya’s heart. “Then know that same love applies to you now.”

“You think so?”

“Yes, I really do. And you have your little sister to think about. This could happen to her, too. Your mother needs to protect both of you. In your mother’s time, there weren’t as many choices. Now there are. You trusted me, now give her a chance.”

“All right.” Tanya stood, brushed off her jeans, and helped Mrs. Patton from the floor. “I’m ready. Let’s go home. She should be there.”

About thirty minutes later, they sat across from Margaret Jaunal in the library and told her everything.

Mrs. Patton was wrong. Very wrong.

Tanya’s life became a living hell.

V
ernon opened the front door, frowning when he found Jeremy and Craig bundled in their warmest winter clothes as they stood on his mother’s doorstep. Frost followed every breath.

“I don’t want to talk with you Negroes. You weren’t there for me when I needed you, so don’t show your asses up now.”

“Hey,” Jeremy said, “I helped you rent a U-Haul.”

“Yeah? And I couldn’t sleep in that bitch, either.”

Vernon slammed the door, turned on his heels, and headed for the couch.

Craig yelled loud enough to reach through the door. “Okay, but we’ll miss you at Thighs High…”

Vernon froze mid-step, blinked as the name registered.
The strip club?
He whipped around in a complete 180 and ran back toward the door like a kid tumbling after the ice cream truck, grabbing his keys, coat and gloves, slipping on his boots just before he stepped onto the front porch.

Craig, wearing a black outfit underneath his wool coat, grinned as Jeremy folded his hands across his beefy chest.

Vernon grimaced. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, all’s forgiven,” he said with a dismissive wave, then fell in step behind them as they crunched through the snow toward Jeremy’s navy BMW.

“Mmmmm, hmmmm,” Jeremy said, giving him a once-over before getting into the driver’s seat. “Mention a little tits and ass and his dick does all the thinking.”

“Fuck you.”

Craig roared with laughter as he snapped the seat belt in place. “See, too much time alone. Now he wants to play for the pink team.”

“Yeah, I always wanted a pretty little house bitch like you.”

“That’s what I’m talking about,” Jeremy said, before pulling out onto Forty-seventh Street. “We need to get your ass some therapy—quick.”

“Thirty dollars to get into that strip joint is therapy enough.”

Thighs High, named after an old Tom Brown funk-R&B tune, was exactly what the name implied. Gorgeous women in shades ranging from the darkest chocolate brown to the creamiest alabaster either took their place wrapping their sexy bodies around a gold pole that extended from the ceiling to the stage, worked the room with lap dances, or poured drinks. Everything from hoochies to high class all in one spot—one-stop pussy shopping. Vernon’s mood lifted a little when he saw the women with smooth bare bikini lines and thighs, and a couple of them with hair poking out on the sides of their panties. The latter made him want to take a line from the old commercial: “Great Scott, what a lawn!”

“All this in one place is as good as an instant hard-on,” Craig said, holding his beer midway to his mouth. “God’s way of saying, ‘Heaven belongs to us.’” His golden skin flushed as he rubbed his hands together, grinning like a kid who had just met the tooth fairy with a sack full of cash. “Ass to the left of us, ass to the right.”

Vernon’s gaze narrowed on his friend, who seemed a little too happy for the occasion. “Where does Alanna think you are?”

Craig didn’t blink as he took a swig of Miller Genuine Draft. “Pool hall. There’s one upstairs, right?”

Vernon turned to Jeremy, whose thin lips lifted into a sheepish grin. “Your mama’s house, cheering you up.”

“With y’all’s lying asses.”

Jeremy shrugged. “Hey, I did stop by!”

Vernon took a swig of Miller Lite. “And
I’m
the one in the doghouse.”

“Hey, we also don’t have a white mistress and we didn’t get busted,” Jeremy shot back.

Even in the midst of all the booty-shaking going on around him, Vernon
missed Brandi, missed the comfort of his own bed and her luscious body curled up with his, the sounds of his daughters’ voices as they squealed with delight when he entered the house. Some things a man couldn’t buy, but others—like the tall, leggy blonde who started this trouble–were purchased in monthly installments. Something about Tanya had touched him, made him feel like protecting her, but he hadn’t really loved her as much as Brandi. Tanya reminded him of how vulnerable Brandi had been in the beginning, but she had grown stronger each year of their marriage. The one night that would always stand out in his mind more than any other, was the first time he made love to his wife.

♥♥♥

Stretched out on a blanket in a secluded spot near a place called The Point, under the bright lights, towering skyscrapers, and liquid beauty of Lake Michigan reflecting Chicago in all its glory; Vernon reached out for her, kissing her long and hard, exploring the warm depths of her mouth with a searing moist heat. As moans spilled from her smooth, lovely throat, she ran a soft hand through his short-cropped hair. He peeled away her blouse, lifted her bra, exposed the soft mounds of flesh, and encircled her engorged nipples with his hot tongue. He took one into his mouth, sucking as though her creamy skin could provide nourishment. And for him it did. The fact that she allowed him to touch her in this way spoke volumes. The fact that she reached for him, drawing him closer to her breasts, said all he needed to know about her need to be intimate with him.