The Deal, the Dance, and the Devil (34 page)

“I’m too upset, Mom. I don’t think that I can really eat.”

I guessed she was trying to bait me with guilt, but my only response was a slight smile and a warning not to tarry too long.

But though it was relatively easy to subdue Alana, it wasn’t the same with my oldest. I was sure that Alana had passed on my message of no discussion to her sister, but twenty minutes later, Alexa bolted down the steps, busted into the kitchen, and posed in front of me as if she was the commando-in-chief.

“Mom! Are you and Daddy getting a divorce?”

Goodness! The girls’ discussion had gone really deep, though I should have expected this from the dramatic one.

“Good morning,” I said, greeting her and ignoring her at the same time.

Neither my words nor my stern stare did anything to dissuade her from her mission.

“Mom!” Alexa spoke as if that was a demand.

Because of her never-ending drama, there were few times when Alexa could move me. But in this moment, with her eyes filled with fear, sadness, and doubt, I was affected—softened and sickened at the same time.

“No, Alexa,” I said, cushioning my words with a gentler tone. “Your father and I are not getting a divorce.”

“Who’s getting a divorce?” Ethan asked as he came into the kitchen.

Alana followed him, though she was silent.

“Listen,” I said to all three of my children. “Whatever’s going on between me and your father has nothing to do with
you. This is grown folks business and you three just need to focus on the things that matter to you.”

“Huh?” Ethan grunted, evidence that my son was oblivious to the craziness that Adam and I had brought into our home.

But the twins were not going to let it go.

“Mom,” Alana began in a gentle voice that was supposed to coax me into giving in. “Everything that happens with you and Dad matters to us.”

I shook my head. “We matter, but not our business.”

“Daddy said,” Alexa jumped in, “that we’re a family and that means we have responsibilities to each other. So what’s going on does matter to us.”

This would’ve been much easier if I had been one of those old-school mothers who told their children to sit down and shut up before she smacked them upside the head. That’s what Marilyn would’ve done.

But since I was never going to be anything like my mother, I swallowed the “sit-down and shut-up” urge and said, “I’m not going to discuss this any further. Now, I’m going to put some bagels in the toaster, and what else do you guys want?”

“Cereal!” Ethan yelped.

But the twins were defiant. They sat with their arms folded, glaring at me, as if they could stare or scare me into telling them what they wanted to know.

After a few seconds, Alexa said to Alana, “You know what this means, right? They’re getting a divorce.”

There was only one way to explain what happened next: Adam, Shay-Shaunté, forty-eight hours, taxes, her man, her pregnancy, Adam’s confession that he’d told her he loved her, him wanting me to go back to work … now Alexa was pressing, pressing, pressing me …

I snapped!

In just three steps, I was in Alexa’s face. Grabbing her by
the white collar of her school uniform, with one hand, I lifted her from the chair.

“Mom!” Alana and Ethan screamed, though Alexa—whom I still held by the throat—was silent from her shock.

I growled, “Didn’t I tell you that this was none of your business?” Grasping her collar even tighter, I pushed her against the wall. “But you’re hardheaded. You couldn’t leave it alone. You couldn’t just do what I told you to do, could you?”

Alexa was in my grasp, but all three of my children whimpered.

I still had Alexa pinned against the wall when I heard “Evia!”

We all turned at Adam’s voice and slowly I relaxed my fingers—one by one—until I released Alexa.

Now trust me, though I was pissed, I had not hurt my daughter. I’d definitely scared her, but she was not injured in any way.

Still, when I let go of her, she crumpled to the ground. No one made a move to her, though. Maybe they all knew what I knew—that her collapse was nothing but drama. Or maybe it was because I’d scared them all and no one wanted to make any sudden moves.

“You all right?” Adam asked me.

“We’re fine,” I said, as each one of my children shivered behind me. Glancing over to the counter, I added, “I was just fixing breakfast.”

He nodded. “Okay, I can finish if you want me to.” His eyes were steady on me, without even a blink.

I was pretty sure that no one in my family would have an appetite for a couple of hours. But still, whatever our children wanted or needed right now would be best handled by their father.

So, without looking back, I marched past Adam. But in just a few moments, I wanted to run back and hug them all.

Pressure and misery had made me snap, but I could never let that happen again. Adam and I needed to fix this. And fast … before this horrible sin that we’d committed became a price that our children had to pay.

Chapter 56

O
NE AND A HALF MILLION DOLLARS.

I could almost hear the angels singing! The ones who were protecting us even in the midst of this madness. Because according to Adam’s records on the computer, even though we’d paid off our house, bought new cars, paid past due bills, and even made payments into the future, we still had $1,575,860.04 left. Even after Shay-Shaunté played us, we were still in the millionaire game.

Not that I was overly confident—I knew this money wouldn’t last long, not in today’s times, and not with all the obligations that we had to our extended family. But this was still a major blessing. Adam and I would have new jobs soon—and with this money, we were free.

I surveyed those beautiful numbers on the spreadsheet once again. This had been our goal: to get our finances back in line … to make sure that our children wouldn’t have any kind
of change in their lifestyles. We’d achieved that objective, and we deserved a high grade for that.

But we’d failed overall because we hadn’t counted the high cost. We’d paid a price that was now burdening our children.

My heart ached as I thought about what I’d done to Alexa this morning. Adam and I prided ourselves on never having raised our hands to our children. That child-rearing philosophy had been passed down from Ruby. But though it was the path that Adam’s mother had taken, my mother had had a different journey. Marilyn had beaten me so many times, often for no reason other than she’d had a bad day.

I’d vowed that I’d never be like her.

But this morning, I’d turned into my mother.

I’d grabbed Alexa in my frustration, my sadness … my anger.

Of course, there were plenty of reasons to explain why I’d jumped over the edge—Shay-Shaunté’s taunting, Adam’s confession. But neither should have driven me to put my hands on Alexa.

Really, all I wanted to do right now was go down to Alexa’s school, pull her out of class, hold her, and apologize, though I was sure that if she saw me coming, she’d run the other way. I’d have to wait until she got home. Not only Alexa, but Alana and Ethan, too—all of my children needed an apology, a hug, and a promise that they’d never see me go off like that again.

But though I was truly sorry and couldn’t wait to be with my children, I couldn’t dwell. It would just be another hour or so before they’d be home, and I’d already wasted too much time today, wallowing, sipping wine, and wishing for the old days.

I clicked from the spreadsheet to the web browser, not really sure where to begin. Should I browse the Internet or go
through an employment agency? Either way, it wouldn’t take me long to find a job. Not only was I confident of my abilities as a top-notch assistant but I’d also worked for Shay-Shaunté.

The thought of her made my confidence wane just a little. My position at Ferossity was a major asset, but how was I going to explain not having a recommendation from my boss?

I sighed. Adam was going to have to help me figure that out.

Adam.

This was only the millionth time that I’d thought about my husband since I’d stomped past him after almost choking one of his children. He’d stared at me with such utter amazement and disappointment that I’d truly expected him to follow me into the bedroom and demand to know what I’d done with his wife because surely what he’d witnessed had not been the woman he loved. I’d been ready to tell him that his wife had disappeared with my husband and that I wanted that other guy back, too.

But after he’d helped the children off to school, Adam had left without a “what’s wrong with you” or a “good-bye.” And now, eight hours later, I still hadn’t heard a word from him.

I leaned back in the desk chair, closed my eyes, and channeled better times. Looking back, our marriage had been so easy—overflowing with the vows we’d taken … to love, honor, and cherish. Sixteen years of bliss—and then we’d hit a wall. But even with all of our financial problems, I’d felt loved, and adored, and safe with Adam.

Until the money. What was supposed to have saved us was destroying us!

My eyes popped open at that revelation, and right over me stood my husband.

“Dang!” I said, so startled that I almost toppled the chair. “You scared me.”

“I’m sorry. I thought you heard me come in.”

No, I hadn’t heard him, hadn’t felt him. It was like every bond between us had been severed.

He said, “You looked like you were asleep.”

“I wasn’t; I was just thinking about something—I wanted to talk to you.”

“I wanted to talk to you, too.”

I’d expected him to let me speak first, like he always did, but just like everything else in our lives, that had changed. He said, “What happened this morning?”

My mind had been on another track; I’d wanted to forget the pain of the past week and make a pact with my husband to move to the future. But before I could talk to Adam about my new thoughts, I had to handle this old deed.

“I don’t know,” I said. “I was upset with Alexa, but I should’ve never let it get out of control like that. I’m going to apologize when she gets home.”

He sighed. “You know it’s the pressure that’s getting to both of us, right.”

“I know.” I stood up. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

He kept on. “And if we think this pressure is bad,” he paced in front of me, moving fast, like he was nervous, “it’s going to be ten times worse if we end up in court.”

We were back to that? I didn’t want to talk about Shay-Shaunté suing us, and I told Adam that. “There’re so many other things to talk about. No need to waste energy on something that’s not going to happen.”

“But what if it does?” He didn’t give me a chance to answer. “You have to go back to work, and I think I’ve figured out a way.”

I folded my arms and poked out my lip. Why wasn’t this man listening to me?

He said, “I’ll talk to her, we can talk to her together. I’ll tell her to stop playing games.”

He paused, as if he expected me to cheer, but I kept my lips pressed hard together, determined not to repeat what he already knew.

“I’ll tell her that she has no chance with me … that that wasn’t the deal.”

I gave him more silence.

“And even if she doesn’t stop, you know that whatever she says isn’t true.”

Now he gave me something to work with. “I don’t know that, Adam. And I don’t want to be running home to you every night asking if this happened or if that happened based on how Shay-Shaunté decides to torment me that day. I’m not putting myself through that, and I’m not putting that strain on our marriage.”

“The strain is already there, Evia,” he said, his voice shaky.

“But it doesn’t have to be.” I stayed calm for the both of us. “Even with the trick that Shay-Shaunté pulled, we still have over a million dollars left. Why can’t we just take that and move forward?”

“Because if she sues us we’re not going to have that money. And it’s too much to lose because your feelings were hurt.”

“Is that what you think?” I asked, tightening every part of my body. When I balled my hands into fists, I wanted to hurt more than just his feelings. “You think this is just a little temper tantrum because my feelings were hurt?”

“I don’t know what you’d call it, but whatever it is, it’s putting everything, especially our children, at risk.”

“I would never do anything to hurt our children.”

His eyebrows rose, like he wondered if I remembered this morning. I needed a different approach.

“Look, Adam, I’m telling you, it would be more dangerous
for me to go back there. Every day that I’d be around Shay-Shaunté would mean that’s a day that she’s around our family. And with what she’s pulled, and the things she’s said, I don’t trust her. I think there’s more to her agenda.”

“There’s nothing she can do to us if we fulfill our part of the contract. You have to just handle her because it’s too much to ask the twins and Ethan and my mother—”

“Your mother?” I couldn’t believe he went there. “Don’t throw her in my face.”

“Why not? If I don’t come to you, where do I place the blame if this deal blows up? You’re the one who’s backing out, wanting to take the easy way, not caring how it will affect everyone, even your ghetto family.”

I couldn’t count the times that I’d called my family ghetto. But hearing those words from Adam hurt.

“Is that what you think about my family?”

He shrugged. “You got another name for them?”

For a moment, I just stood still. This was not the man I’d married. I stomped across the room and jumped right into his face. “You must’ve forgotten where you grew up. You and I are from the same block, the same blood, the same hood. If I’m ghetto, you are, too.”

His nostrils flared with an anger I’d never before seen in my husband. “You need to back off me, Evia,” he warned.

“Or what?” I screamed. “What are you going to do, Adam? Hit me because I won’t do what you tell me to do?”

“Mom!”

I froze. My first thought—this couldn’t be happening again.

But then, I heard “Dad,” and the whimper of our son.

When I turned around, I saw that today was far worse than yesterday. Because next to our son stood his best friend, Dougie, looking as traumatized as Ethan.