Mistress

by Meisha Camm

Genres: African American Urban

Synopsis

Alexis Gibbs, addicted to a controlling man named Jarred Simmons who has given her nothing but empty promises and broken commitments, must choose between being Jarred's mistress forever or moving on and starting a new life with a new man.

Release date: September 27, 2016

Publisher: Urban Books

Print pages: 304

Sample

The door slammed so hard that I thought for sure it would put a crack in the wall and all of the pictures on the shelves would come tumbling down. An ice-cold chill went down my spine as I lay down scared in the bed. Something wasn’t right. I decided to tiptoe down the stairs to see what the commotion was. I got to the sixth step and stopped because I didn’t want anyone to see me lurking in the shadows of the darkness. Everyone stopped in the kitchen.

Ma was fuming as she rubbed her round, firm, pregnant belly. “Robert, you no-good bastard, I’ve had enough! I want you and your shit out of my house!” Ma commanded.

It had been at least three months since my parents stopped fighting. Now this . . . just when the house was starting to get back to normal. All Ma ever wanted was for us to be a family.

“I’m carrying your baby and you have the nerve to cheat on me for the fifth time,” she barked, slamming her fist on the table.

“Baby, please you’ve got it all wrong. Just listen to me.” Pop tried to hold her hand.

“Cut the bullshit! How dare you insult my fucking intelligence. I shouldn’t have to track your sorry ass down at some bar at four in the damn morning.”

Ma was angrier than I’d ever seen, and Pop was like a dirty dog with his tail between his legs, begging for forgiveness, and trying to drum up the best excuse he could muster.

“And you had the audacity to have your fucking tongue down her throat for all the world to see. The last time I checked, you don’t tongue-kiss a friend. What kind of fool do you take me for?” Ma had tears in her eyes.

Pop continued to plead for Ma’s forgiveness. “It was nothing. It meant nothing. I mean, I do admit I did get a li’l tipsy . . . But it won’t ever happen again. I give you my word, hon’. I wasn’t thinking straight.” Pop sulked and shook his head.

Ma raised her palms in the air and yelled to top of her lungs. “Shut up, shut up. Just shut the hell up!” She turned back to Pop and leaned over the counter. Ma lowered her head, as if in prayer. She closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath.

“I knew you were with her. Since I slapped your tasteful lust out of her mouth, maybe she’ll leave your sorry ass alone. Robert! I don’t want to hear any more of your lame excuses.” She spoke between clenched teeth, her jaws tight.

I moved in closer to the kitchen and leaned in the doorway. I’d never seen Ma like this before. She was scaring me. This whole mess was scaring me. Pop’s messing around had finally come back around to bite him in the butt. Ma opened her eyes and glared at the knife laying on the counter. She inched her fingers closer to the knife. “You can’t keep your dick inside your pants.” She wrapped her fingers around it.

“Pussy is on your mind twenty-four/seven.” Ma quickly turned around and began wailing the knife in the air at Pop.

He jumped to his feet and stepped back toward the door, getting out of her way. “Okay, honey. This is getting out of hand. Put the knife down!”

“Fuck you! I’ll put this knife down when I’m done cutting your throat!”

I darted in the kitchen past Pop and dropped down to Ma’s feet, wrapping myself around her legs. “Ma, Ma, please stop crying!”

She looked down at me and lowered her shoulders. She looked at Pop and gazed angrily into his eyes.

“Look at what you’re doing to your own daughter, let alone this family.” Ma began to weep hysterically, the knife still affixed to the palm of her hand and held high above her head.

Uncle Freddy and Aunt Cecily had made their way out of slumber and into the kitchen, due to all of Ma’s screaming at the top of her lungs. They were staying with us for a little while just till their new house was built. Both stood in the doorway, alarmed at what was taking place before them.

Aunt Cecily called out to Ma, “Viv, don’t do this. He’s not worth it.” She began to walk toward Ma slowly and with extreme caution.

Uncle Freddy slowly followed on Aunt Cecily’s heels, mimicking her every move. “Cecily is right, Viv. No man is worth all of this. Think about Alexis and your baby.”

Aunt Cecily recognized that Ma was a time bomb that could explode any minute. “Viv, give me the knife, honey.” She extended her hand toward Ma.

“Please, Viv,” she whispered, “give me the knife.”

Uncle Freddy walked behind Ma as if he were walking on thin ice. He looked mortified at an angry woman wailing around a butcher’s knife. He slowly grabbed her by the arms and whispered in her ear. “He ain’t worth it.”

Ma stared off into space as she surrendered, gently placing the knife into Aunt Cecily’s hand and shaking her head repeatedly.

Aunt Cecily placed the knife in the drawer. She turned to Ma and kissed her on the cheek before embracing her. “It’s going to be all right.” She looked down at me and pulled me up to my feet. “Baby, your momma is going to be all right. Go to your room, sweetheart.”

I looked up at Ma. I always obeyed Aunt Cecily, but this time I had to get permission from Ma. I had to know it was all right for me to leave her. “Ma?”

“Go to your room, Alexis. Pack a few outfits and come right back, baby,” Ma instructed.

Aunt Cecily and Uncle Freddie were more of a stable couple. I never saw them fight. If things got too rough, Ma would send me over to their house, where I was treated like a true princess. Ice cream, candy, cookies galore, and all for me.

I got my clothes and ran back downstairs and into the kitchen with my bag and my favorite teddy bear, Jelly Bean, in my hands.

Ma did get one good lick at Pop, grazing his arm. I saw tiny drops of blood trickling down.

“I hate you.” She spat in his face.

“Don’t go. I love you. I’ll make it up to you.” Pop got on his hands and knees. “I told you, those other women don’t mean anything to me. You will always have my heart,” Pop proclaimed, pointing to it.

“Your heart got you home this morning and not last night. I’m tired of this, Robert. I can’t do it anymore. You’re driving me crazy. We have a child, and another on the way.”

I knew this song and dance all too well. Still every time, I cried. I didn’t want the most two important people of my life at each other’s throats.

“In the morning, you better be out of my damn house. Let me remind you that knife in the drawer is my new best friend,” Ma devilishly smirked, walking to the door with my aunt, uncle, and myself following behind her.

Next stop, my Uncle Leroy’s house.

It’d been a whole month since I’d seen Pop. Every night, he’d been standing outside the front door for hours pleading Ma to take him back. She would just tune him out and act as if he wasn’t even there. By morning, he’d be gone. She got the locks and the phone number changed. I missed him so much. Her tummy was getting bigger by the minute. I was hoping for a new baby brother.

I was watching my favorite cartoon, Tom and Jerry, while enjoying a bowl of Froot Loops.

“Alexis Kayla Gibbs, will you please give me a hand with these groceries?” Ma demanded.

Luckily, I went just in time to rescue the eggs that were falling out of her hands. “No problem,” I replied, laying them on the counter.

“Girl, I wouldn’t know what I would do if I didn’t have you.” She sighed and kissed me on the cheek.

“You would be sad.”

She put the milk in the refrigerator. “This cookie in the oven and you give me strength to go on.”

“I love you, Ma.”

“I love you too, baby. We’ve got a few things to do today. First, go clean up that filthy bathroom of yours and take a shower. You need to get your hair done. Lord knows, I don’t have the strength to tackle down those kinks in your head.” She plopped down on the leather couch. “I told Rhonda we would be at the shop in an hour. My doctor’s appointment is at two this afternoon.”

The bathroom was a piece of cake. All I had to do was to wash the bathroom sink with Comet.

I jumped in the shower for ten minutes. I loved to get my hair done. Ms. Rhonda would always make it look tight.

“Ma, I’m ready,” I panted, running from out of my room.

“Okay, let me just put these last bit of groceries away.”

Ms. Rhonda’s hair salon was packed, and even though Ma would always seem to wait till the last minute to book an appointment, she always managed to squeeze me in.

“What’s on the hair menu for today?” I asked.

“I was thinking about giving you a nice doobie wrap. This way, your mother or you can just wrap your hair,” Rhonda explained, applying the relaxer to my scalp.

“I want it to have some curl to it though.”

“Coming right up. Tell me if you’re burning.”

I was in agony sitting under the hot dryer. Ma was fast asleep. Nowadays, she only had a smile on her face when eating or sleeping. I let Essence, Ebony, Jet, and Ladies’ Home Journal all keep me company.

“You’re all finished.” Ms. Rhonda sighed. She sprayed glosser on my hair and spun me around in the chair.

“Thanks, Rhonda.” Ma pulled out her wallet. “How much do I owe you?”

“Nothing. Consider it an early baby shower gift. Vivian, don’t fight me on this one. Go home, relax, and take care of Alex and the one in your stomach.”

Ma giggled. “You’re too much.”

I waved good-bye to Rhonda, and Ma and I walked out of the shop.

Another woman waiting to step into the door looked down, locking eyes with me and then Ma. She had a huge ponytail that didn’t look like all of her hair and was fidgety at the door and seemed to be in a hurry.

“Hmm . . . excuse me, do I know you?” the woman asked, tapping Ma on the shoulder.

“I don’t think so, unless you’ve seen me at this hair shop,” Ma stated.

“No, no. I’m sure to have seen you and your daughter in a picture.” She looked back at me. “Alexis, right?”

“Yes, ma’am, that’s my name,” I said, trying to be friendly.

“What picture?” Ma demanded to know.

“Now, I know. My boyfriend Robby showed me a picture of you and your daughter. You’re his sister, right? He’s hoping the baby will be his brand-new nephew so he can have somebody to watch football games with. Now, I need a favor from you,” she insisted.

“What’s that? Um . . . I didn’t catch your name,” Ma said, balling up her fists.

“It’s Yvonne. I’m not one to be working. Robby promised to help out on my bills. I need to get my hair done. I have no other choice than to write a postdated check to Rhonda, hoping it clears the bank. He’s a real catch. I see the future and his restaurants are taking off, which means I can be the homemaker and eat Klondike bars all day and watch the soaps. So, if you see him, please let him know I’m on the lookout.” She giggled.

Ma said, “Yvonne, let me ask you a small question.”

“Sure. You can ask me anything.”

“Did you screw him?”

“Yeah. What’s it to you? You’re his sister. You shouldn’t want to know how he gets down in the bedroom.”

“Three things, Yvonne, you need to know. First, Robby is my husband. Second, the restaurants we own together. Third, take this as a lesson learned. Never screw a man who promises to give you the world. He should have gave it to you before you gave it up to him. It would be in your best interest to leave him alone. Dogs always know where home is,” Ma announced and then walked to the car, leaving Yvonne standing in the doorway in tears.

My heart was racing as I saw Pop’s Ford 150 green truck outside of the restaurant. It stood the test of time, rain, sleet, and snow. Before the Chicken Shack was opened, Ma and Pop sold chicken dinners for five dollars outside of the truck. I was always strapped down in my car seat, playing with toys and eating a Popsicle to keep me quiet.

After one year, my parents saved enough money to open their own restaurant where folks could sit down and eat their food. The grand opening was on July 17, 1979, a day that I will never forget. Three months before the big day, Ma and Pop had family, friends, and anybody that could help putting up flyers in Virginia Beach, Chesapeake, Suffolk, Franklin, Norfolk, Portsmouth, Hampton, Newport News, and Williamsburg.

The night before, Pop was so nervous. I could hear Ma and him praying to God, asking for His favor over the restaurant. It was my father’s dream, and my parents worked relentlessly to see this dream come true.

Dressed in a royal-blue chiffon dress with matching bow ribbons for my hair and patent leather shoes, I witnessed people from all over the Tidewater area come and get a taste of Pop’s soul food. The items on the menu featured fried chicken, white and dark meat—Pop could even fry a whole chicken—chicken sandwiches, fried fish, featuring whiting, trout, catfish, and croaker, hickory smoked BBQ ribs. (They have always been my favorite.) There was also beef and pork. The sides included mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, corn on the cob, corn pudding, rice pudding, candied yams, potato salad, macaroni and cheese, collard greens, cabbage, string beans, and black-eyed peas. For desserts, apple, blackberry, peach cobbler, vanilla and chocolate ice cream. After a lot of coaxing, Pop finally put an ice cream machine in the restaurant. That meant I could have ice cream anytime I wanted.

As Ma jumped out of the car, she took off her quarterinch sandal heels and wobbled into the restaurant. My heart was beating faster. She was pissed and had never confronted Pop here, of all places. “Robby, where are you?” Ma shouted out.

“Hey, Vivian, how are you feeling?” Mr. Marshall, one of Pop’s best cooks, walked to the front door.

“Hello, John. Have you seen my husband?”

“Yeah, he’s in the back. I’ll go tell him you’re here.”

“That won’t be necessary. Besides, it’s going on one o’clock. I know the kids are waiting for you to take them to the park. You go on home to your family.”

“All right, well, I’ll see you two ladies later.” He smiled and walked to the door.

We searched everywhere for Pop, looking in the customer and employee bathrooms, the kitchen, and the closets. Finally, Ma spotted the back door slightly cracked open. There, we found Pop sweating profusely, unloading the Valley Food Service truck with the restaurant’s weekly supplies.

“Alex, hold my purse and go inside to get a slice of peach cobbler,” Ma told me.

“I don’t want any cobbler, Ma,” I whined.

Pop, his back turned to us, still hadn’t turned around because the truck was so loud.

“I didn’t ask you what you wanted. Now, I’m not repeating myself, so do what I asked you to do,” she warned, cutting her eyes at me.

“Yes, ma’am,” I answered, feeling defeated and scared for my life and Pop’s. I was tired of my parents fighting. I quickly walked to the door and slightly kept it open so I could see.

“Robby?” Ma shouted out.

“Viv, are you all right? Where’s Alex at?”

“She’s fine, Robby.”

“Why do you keep calling me Robby? No one calls me that except my Aunt Pam, who I can’t stand to. . .