The Available Wife (2 page)

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Authors: Carla Pennington

BOOK: The Available Wife
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CHAPTER 2

I sighed when the cab driver drove through the gates of my neatly manicured Houston subdivision nearly four hours after I was expected to arrive home. As I coasted through the neighborhood, I stared at each brick, single-family home and the families that were outside horsing around or tending to their yards. I wondered why I couldn’t be that happy or why my mouth could never form a smile. The only time it did was when I was with him; Kingston. In the seven months that we’d known each other, he’d swept me off my feet and filled my world with nothing but excitement. Unlike my boring-ass marriage.

I wasn’t ready to return to reality, but as the cabbie drove closer to my home, I had no other choice. I took a deep breath then reached inside my leather, Alma Louis Vuitton bag and pulled out a twenty dollar bill to pay the fare. When we pulled in front of the house, seconds later, I instantly frowned when I saw my mother’s car in the driveway.

What the hell is she doing here
, I thought. I certainly wasn’t in the mood to deal with her ass at the moment.

However, my scowl instantly faded when I watched the enjoyment on my four-year-old son’s face as he did cartwheels on the front lawn. When he spotted me, he made a mad dash toward the yellow cab. I gave him a huge smile as he patted on the window for me to hurry up and get out. I had to get myself together. I desperately had to jump back into my role as mother and wife. Even though I couldn’t get Kingston off or out of my mind, I had to regroup for my boys’ sake.

“Hey, Mommy!” Johnathan yelled. He jumped all over me when I stepped out of the cab.

I didn’t show any painful emotion when he excitedly stepped on my foot.

“Whew, you smell like a wet dog.” I playfully frowned as I gave him several kisses and hugs. “I see you got your hair cut,” I said, rubbing my hand over his nearly bald head.

“Unhuh,” he smiled with those perfect, beautiful, white teeth that I hoped would look the same once they fell out and the permanent ones came in.

“Where’s your daddy?” I asked in a dry tone.

Before he could answer, I heard the front door open. As soon as I looked up, I saw my husband, Germaine, standing in the threshold of the door holding our five-month-old son, Nathan in his arms. I took a deep breath as I stared at him wishing, for a brief moment, he was Kingston, but I knew that he could never amount to my lover.

“Why are you so late?” Germaine asked as soon as I made it to the front door.

“Because I am,” I replied in an irritable and defensive tone.

“Why didn’t you call and tell me that you’d be late?”

“Because I didn’t need to,” I snarled. “Why all of the fucking questions? Damn!”

“I thought something may have happened to you Nikki...that’s all. Besides, I left you four messages.”

“I know,” I replied nonchalantly.

“Well, why didn’t you return any of them?”

“Germaine, are we really gonna do this now?” I huffed and pouted. I placed my right hand on my hip and shifted my weight to let him know that I wasn’t in the mood. “I just got off the fucking plane.”

When Germaine realized that he wasn’t going to get any straight answers out of me, he dropped the whole interrogation.

“So, how was the trip?” he asked.

“Tiring.”

If only he knew just how tiring it was
. As my husband leaned down to kiss me, I turned my head slightly so that his kiss landed on my cheek. I, in turn, planted my lips on my bundle of joy’s chubby cheeks. Germaine said nothing as I walked past him and into my 4,800 square foot house which, to my surprise, was still clean. Normally when I went out of town I came back to complete chaos…a bachelor’s pad, but nothing could’ve upset me at that moment. I was still on cloud nine.

“You smell nice,” Germaine complimented as he and Nathan joined me inside the house.

“Thanks,” I replied dryly. “Where’s my mother?”

He pointed toward the kitchen before continuing. “Is it new?”

“Why?” I asked then sucked my teeth.

“Because it doesn’t smell like any of the other perfumes you wear.”

Damn, does he pay that much attention to me?
I thought. Kingston often told me that he loved the perfumes I wore, so I normally poured it on a little thick when we were together. “It’s the new perfume by Beyonce’,” I replied.

“Well, it smells nice.”

I made a mental note to put it in the drawer until I was with Kingston again. I didn’t want Germaine enjoying it. It was for Kingston’s enjoyment only.

“I made reservations at seven o’clock at that hibachi restaurant that you and John John love so much,” Germaine spoke as he rested his hands on my bare shoulders.

Using Johnathan was his way of getting me to say yes, but I wasn’t in the mood to go out. I wanted to escape into my tub filled with hot, bubbly water to dream and reminisce about my time with Kingston.

“Let me ask you a question?” I addressed him. “How in the hell can you make reservations to a restaurant when you don’t have any money?”

He gave me an uncomfortable look. “I thought maybe you wouldn’t mind…”

“Spending my damn money?” I finished his statement. “You have a lot of fucking nerve. Isn’t there something boxed in the freezer that you can throw in the microwave? Better yet, since you’re
Mr. Mom
, can’t you just throw some shit together like you’ve been doing?”

He gave me another uncomfortable look, cradled Nathan in his arms a little tighter and walked toward the door. “I’m happy you’re home, Nikki,” he replied before moping back outside.

As soon as Germaine closed the door, Johnathan ran inside. I didn’t realize how filthy he was when he met me at the cab. His fairly new, gray and white Nike’s were dingy and scuffed. Even his Sean John jean shorts and white t-shirt would need a miracle to come clean from the all the visible grass and dirt stains. I was more than sure that I’d be tossing those items in the trash. Germaine knew better than to let him play in those clothes, but I guess I was to blame for not being at home to supervise.

“Mommy, I’m getting my kickball. Daddy gon’ kick with me,” Johnathan spoke excitedly as he ran past me like the kid, Dash, from the animated movie
The Incredibles
.

“Okay,” I said and smiled. “Have fun and don’t hurt yourself.”

As soon as Johnathan dashed upstairs to his room, I could hear him rummaging through his toy chest for his ball. At that moment, I rolled my Louis Vuitton suitcase through the tangerine colored living room, but stopped when I saw an ashtray filled with cigarette butts and two Bud Light bottles on the glass table. I was pissed. Germaine knew that smoking shit wasn’t allowed in my house. I grabbed the filthy ashtray from the table and stormed outside. When he saw me with the evidence in my hand, he gave me a guilty and shameful look.

“Didn’t I tell you not to smoke in the fucking house?” I growled at him.

“I know. I only did it when the boys were asleep.”

“I don’t give a shit if they’re comatose! Don’t smoke in here!” I yelled before throwing the ashtray at his feet causing some of the ashes to scatter. “If you find a fucking job then you won’t have to smoke or drink!” I blasted before storming back inside the house.

Running into my mother didn’t help the situation. I assumed she’d been ear hustling in the kitchen the entire time.

“Why do you treat him like that?” she asked before taking a bite into what appeared to be a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

I stared into her hazel contacts and rolled my eyes. “Why are you even here?”

“Your husband called me over here to stay with the boys so he could go to the airport to find out what was going on with your flight. He was worried.”

“Oh really. Well, there was nothing going on with the flight. I decided to take another one.”

“Well, why would you do that and not let anyone know?” she asked.

I looked at my mother up and down because I knew she wasn’t questioning me in such a way. Last I checked, I was no longer a child.

“Look, you can leave now,” was my response. “As you can see, I’m fine.”

It looked like she wanted to choke me. I knew that look all too well.
Jealous bitch
. She walked past me in her fitted, size six, Ann Taylor jeans, navy blue tank top and black flip flops. My mother was a forty-eight-year-old dime piece. She could wear anything and always made that shit look good. I was the same way and sadly, was also the spitting image of her.

“You’re gonna lose a good man with that stank attitude of yours. You need to get your shit together, Nikki,” she tried to chastise.

“Mind your own business and get out.”

“Gladly.”

As she walked out, I could hear her outside saying her goodbyes. Johnathan begged and whined for her not to leave, but she told him that she’d be back soon, then left.

I did everything in my power to not let anything that her or Germaine said get under my skin since I was on a feel-good high. But Germaine was pressing my nerves as usual. I knew he was going to be a softy when I first met him back in New Orleans six years ago. I was getting ready to burst onto the music scene with my sultry R&B sound while he assisted in producing tracks for my record. If only I’d known that my singing career would be shot to hell, I probably would’ve dropped his ass a long time ago.

Germaine was different from the other men that I’d dealt with in my past. He was supportive and I needed that boost. But as the days became weeks, the weeks into months and the months into years, I needed the aggression that I was beginning to miss and Kingston harpooning into my life gave me just that.

To avoid Germaine killing my mood, I disappeared behind the doors of my office where I spent the next few hours checking and replying to emails and messages that I received while out of town.

When I came out of my office nearly five hours later, I found Germaine on our chocolate, leather sofa in the living room with his feet kicked up. I couldn’t believe his ass was watching
Tom & Jerry
on the Cartoon Network. Johnathan had fallen asleep in his lap and Nathan was in his arms.

“Don’t you think you need to put them to bed?” I addressed.

He glanced up at me and stretched causing Johnathan to shift positions. “Are you done taking care of your business?”

“As done as I’m gonna be.”

He yawned. “Good. Maybe you and I can have some alone time.”

“If alone means me being in one room and you in another then that’s fine with me. I don’t know why you keep wasting your breath on that issue,” I huffed before lifting Johnathan from his lap and carrying him to his room.

Although Johnathan smelled as though he’d been playing outside all day, I didn’t bother removing his clothes. Germaine would just have to change and wash his covers when he did the laundry. By the time I slipped Johnathan’s shoes off and covered his body with his favorite SpongeBob blanket, Germaine was on the other side of the room tucking Nathan in as well. I smiled as I watched Nathan’s five-month-old body wiggle under the covers. I knew that he’d be waking up within the next few hours for a feeding, but that was going to be Germaine’s job not mine. He carried his Mr. Mom title very well and I wasn’t about to battle him for it.

After we put the boys to bed, I retreated to the kitchen to pour myself a glass of Moscato. I needed something to help shake Kingston out of my mind and to deal with the stresses of being back home. But something told me that Germaine wasn’t going to let it be that simple.

“Did you get that guy on board?” he asked after following me into the kitchen.

I instantly frowned. “What?”

“Did you get that singer on board that you went to see in Tennessee?”

He’d caught me off guard. There was no artist. I’d used that excuse just to get to Kingston. Being the CEO of my own record label,
Kingquole Records,
gave me plenty of opportunities to see
my man
.

“He decided to go with a different label,” I lied before sipping the wine.

“Oh, sorry to hear that. Well, your label is still doing well isn’t it?”

“Yeah, my artists and staff are loyal to the label. Everything’s good. In my eyes, it’s slow, but I’m getting there.”

“You talk like it’s threatened,” Germaine responded.

“No, it’s not threatened. It’s just that I expected it to be in a bigger place at this point in my life. I just need to push a little harder. Besides, I have a lot of big wigs backing me on it. I didn’t go into this with my head in the sand.”

“I didn’t say that you did, but you knew that this type of business was risky.”

“I do recall that you were once in this business, too,” I seethed.

I was getting upset and he knew it. I didn’t want to talk about my label not to him anyway. Germaine always seemed depressive when he would put his two cents in and I didn’t need that.

“Germaine, I don’t want to get into this with you now. Why are you pestering me? I know you want me to sit behind someone’s desk, but that ain’t me. I know you want me to come home at reasonable hours to help you with the boys, but my career is chaotic. You, of all people, should understand that.”

“I do, Nikki. It’s just that…”

“I can’t sing anymore because of these damn nodules on my fucking vocal cords so it was only wise that I do something that involved music,” I interrupted. I wasn’t done with my speech. “You backed me on this when I first told you about it. So, I can’t understand why you’re tripping.”

“I know I backed you. Hell, I was there when you were going through that shit. Remember? I’ve had your back since the beginning, so don’t go there.”

A few months before I was pregnant with Johnathan, I learned that I had nodules on my vocal cords which prevented me from singing. I was devastated. Since I was destined for great things, the drama hit me right after my first and last record was released. No matter how hard I tried, the surgeries I endured and defying doctor’s orders, I knew that my singing career was over. It was heart-wrenching, but my passion for singing and music was so strong that I had no other choice but to start my own record label. Germaine didn’t and couldn’t understand that was one of the main reasons why I resented him. Kingston, on the other hand, understood the passion and drive.

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