Love Becomes Her

Chapter 3

Ann Marie dealt the first hand of spades while the ladies ate, drank and drank some more. Before the first game was finished, two bottles of wine were empty and Stephanie was on her third bottle of Coors. They were on a roll.

“Somebody up in here is cheatin’,” Ellie said, then began to giggle.

“I don’t see what’s so funny. I’m losing,” Stephanie grumbled. “Think I’m being taken advantage of.” She turned the empty bottle up to her lips, frowned then looked around for another one. Not finding one, she pushed herself up out of the chair, stumbled once, righted herself and headed for the kitchen. “The rest of the wine out here?” she yelled.

“In the fridge. And bring some more ice,” Barbara called out.

Ann Marie got up. “I’ll help before her drunk behind breaks something.” She zigzagged her way to the kitchen.

Barbara looked across the table at Ellie. They broke out laughing. Just another Friday night with the girls. A time to let their hair down and act the fool without recriminations.

“Good to see you laughing, Ell. You had me worried.” She finished the last of her wine.

Suddenly, as if someone had slapped her, Ellie howled in some kind of agony that scared the hell out of Barbara and had Stephanie and Ann Marie falling all over each other to get into the living room.

“What happened?” they screeched. They turned accusing eyes on Barbara, who was stunned into open-mouthed and wide-eyed silence as Ellie bawled and railed like a baby.

Ellie jumped up from the table, nearly falling down in the process. She grabbed the edge of the table to keep from going face-first on the floor.

Barbara hurried to her side. “Ell, calm down. What is it? Tell me, honey.” She put her arms around her and led her to the couch.

Stephanie and Ann Marie sat on the floor at Ellie’s feet.

“What got you so twisted, chile?” Ann Marie cooed, patting Ellie’s knee.

Stephanie patted the other knee. “You can tell us.”

Ellie sniffed hard, her body shuddering. “He… he… The bastard!”

“Who? What bastard?” Ann Marie asked.

“Matt!”

“Matthew? Your husband?” Stephanie asked.

Ellie nodded her head hard. “Don’t say his name.”

The three women looked at each other in confusion.

Barbara sat down next to Elizabeth. “Ell, just tell us what’s wrong. Maybe we can help.”

“No one can help me. No one.” She covered her face with her hands and cried harder.

“Oh, damn, she’s drunk,” Steph said.

“Oh, shut up. So are you.” Ann Marie patted Ellie’s knee a little harder.

“I know that.” Stephanie said with conviction. “What’s your excuse?”

“What!” Ann Marie tried to stand up and couldn’t. “You want a fat lip?”

“Who’s gonna give it to me, you?” Stephanie started to giggle. “Take off those damn high heels and I’ll just step over you and be done with it.” She laughed harder.

Barbara cringed. Ann Marie hated nothing more than to be taunted about her height.

Ann Marie snatched off her shoe quicker than a flash of lightning and raised it over her head ready to bean Stephanie. Not before Barbara, seeing disaster unfold, reached out for the shoe before it connected, but instead tumbled in a heap on the floor between the two would-be gladiators.

Seeing Barbara on the floor set them all off into a fit of near-hysterical laughter, until Ellie’s piercing voice broke through the cacophony.

“Have you all lost your mind? Doesn’t anyone care about my problem?”

The laughter stopped as abruptly as it started. Three sets of eyes rested on Ellie’s tear-streaked face.

“We would, but you won’t tell us what it is we’re supposed to care about,” Stephanie murmured.

Elizabeth looked from one concerned face to the next. She swallowed and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “Matthew wants a divorce.”

Barbara’s mouth opened and all she could say was her dear friend’s name.

Ann Marie whispered, “No,” then covered her mouth.

“Not you and Matt,” Stephanie muttered.

Barbara scrambled up off the floor and sat back next to Ellie. “What happened, Ell?”

Ann Marie sat up. “You bot’ seem so happy.”

“When did this happen?” Stephanie asked.

“This morning. Over breakfast.” She laughed. “Grits, eggs and homemade hash browns just the way he likes them.”

Barbara put her arm around Ellie’s shoulders and squeezed. “Ell, what did he say?”

Ellie drew in a breath. “He said…he can’t live with me anymore. He…doesn’t…love me anymore. He’s in love with someone else.”

“Matt?” Stephanie asked incredulously.

Ellie nodded.

“Who is she? ’Cause it sound to me like she need her arse whipped.”

“Ann Marie,” Barbara scolded. “That’s not going to solve anything.”

“Maybe not, but it would make me feel better.”

“Yeah, me, too,” Stephanie seconded.

“I’ve met her. Sweet young thing. Not much older than our daughter! Can you believe that? Oh God!” she wailed.

“Oh, girl, it’s probably just a fling. A midlife crisis or something. You know how men get. He’ll come to his senses,” Stephanie offered.

Ellie reached for her purse, tucked near the arm of the couch. She opened it and pulled out a thick set of folded papers. “Does this read like a midlife crisis to you?” She sniffed and shoved the papers toward her friends.

Barbara opened them up. It was a petition for divorce. She passed them to Ann Marie, who then handed them to Steph.

Ann Marie pushed up from the floor, crossed the room to where she’d left her purse on the table and pulled out her bottle of Courvoisier. She put the bottle under her arm and collected their glasses. She handed a glass to each one and began to pour. “We need a real drink after that.”

“You ain’t lying,” Stephanie said.

Barbara took a hearty sip that went straight from the pit of her stomach to her head. This really was serious.

Chapter 4

Silence hung over the quartet for a good five minutes as they worked on digesting the startling information that Elizabeth had shared. The only sounds were the wail of Miles Davis’s trumpet on the stereo and the steady beat of rain pounding against the windows.

Finally, Barbara found her voice. “Have you spoken with a lawyer, Ell?”

Elizabeth nodded. “This morning. Right after that bastard left for work.” She sniffed.

“What did your lawyer say?” Stephanie asked.

Elizabeth wiped her eyes to make room for more tears. “He said if I wanted to fight it I could and that basically I could get everything since he…he cheated on me!” she wailed. “I can’t believe it. I had that little hussy in my house.”

“Don’t worry about that now,” Ann Marie said. “Just take Matt—I mean that bastard’s bags and set them on the curb.”

“I don’t know if I even want to live there…too many memories.” She lowered her head.

“But you deserve that house. You put your heart and soul into it all these years. You stayed home so that he could pursue his degrees and his career. You raised your kids there. That’s your house,” Stephanie insisted.

“She’s right, Ell,” Barbara said. “And it’s worth a fortune. I wouldn’t give it up. Let him find someplace else to live.”

Elizabeth sighed heavily. “I guess. Besides, where would I go? I certainly can’t live with Desiree or Dawne, they have their own lives. Ohhh, what am I going to tell my daughters?” She erupted into a new wave of tears and sobbing.

“Your daughters are grown and doing their t’ing. They are mature young women. They will understand. At least you don’t have to worry ’bout dem moving back in wit’ you like some daughters,” Ann Marie said with disgust. “And really upsetting your life.”

Stephanie turned to Ann Marie. “Like who? I know Raquel didn’t move back home.”

Ann Marie sucked her teeth. “Girl show up on me door bag and baggage. What me gon’ do?” She sucked her teeth again.

Elizabeth leaned forward, her red-rimmed eyes wide. “Raquel left Earl?”

Ann Marie looked from one to the other. “Yes.” She muttered something that no one could understand. “Grown chile ain’t got no business moving in wit’ her mudder.”

Elizabeth reached for Ann Marie’s hand. “Annie, something awful must have happened for her to leave Earl. Did you talk to her?”

“Me too upset to talk.” She shook her head.

“But don’t you even want to know what happened?” Stephanie asked, perplexed.

“What can me do even if she tol’ me? Nutin’. What me gon’ tell Phil when he come back next week?”

“Phil!” the trio sang in unison.

“Girl, you have got to be kidding,” Stephanie croaked.

“He’s fine and everything, but that’s your child. What are you worried about him for?” Elizabeth asked.

“I have a one-bedroom apartment for a reason. Don’t keep no company that’s not sharing me bedroom, if you get what I mean.”

“But that’s your daughter, Ann Marie,” Barbara scolded, unable to fully understand Ann Marie’s total lack of concern for her child. It was unreasonable and cruel, not characteristics that she associated with Ann Marie. But when you put folk’s backs up against the wall there was no telling if they were going to come out swinging or singing. She always felt that Ann Marie’s relationship with her daughter was not all that it could be, but this turned her stomach. There had to be more to it than what Ann Marie was saying.

“Yes, she’s my daughter wit’ a ’usband.” She pushed herself up from the floor and fixed herself another drink. “I don’t want to talk ’bout it no more.” She took a long swallow and for an instant her gaze connected with Barbara’s, and Barbara was stunned to see fear in Ann Marie’s eyes.

“You know what’s best for you and your daughter,” Barbara said, letting Ann Marie off the hook. “But don’t let a man come between you and your child. That’s all I’m gonna say besides pass me the bottle. I really need a drink now.”

The women giggled, releasing some of the tension in the room as Ann Marie refilled everyone’s glass. They sipped in silence.

“What would you do if you didn’t want to have sex anymore, but the person you didn’t want to have sex with was your boss?”

The silence was officially broken.

Chapter 5

All eyes turned in Stephanie’s direction. She had a pinched look on her face, as if she’d swallowed something sour, but the look of defiance that generally hovered in her caramel-colored eyes was missing. Barbara immediately thought of the episode that morning and knew her gut feelings about Stephanie had some merit. This she had to hear.

Ann Marie was the first to speak up. “What you say, girl? Your boss? You been doing the do with your boss?”

“Ann!” Barbara admonished. She lowered her voice. “Is it true? You and Conrad what’shisname?”

Stephanie bobbed her head and took a sip of her drink.

“Well, I’ll be,” Elizabeth murmured, forgetting her own drama. “How long?”

“About a year.”

“And you’re just telling us,” they cried off-key.

“It wasn’t supposed to be anything, you know. Just a few dates.”

“Is that how you got your last promotion?” Ann Marie asked.

Stephanie looked at her and rolled her eyes. “I was going to get the promotion, anyway.”

The trio um-hmmmed her.

“Fine.” She jumped up. “I knew I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m not an idiot. I didn’t get to where I am on my back. I work hard for everything I have in the boardroom or the bedroom,” she slurred. “I thought you all were my friends.”

“Damn, she actually looks like she’s gonna cry,” Ann Marie muttered in awe, the four glasses of alcohol making Stephanie look like one of those desert mirages floating in front of her. “Sit down. You’re making me dizzy.”

“Yes, please,” Elizabeth said, rubbing her eyes. “You’re giving me an ache or something.”

Barbara sputtered a giggle. “Oh, what a night,” she sang badly and raised her glass in a toast. “To Ellie, who after twenty-five years of marriage is being kicked to the curb by her philandering husband and a hussy.”

“Hear, hear!”

“To Ann Marie, who can’t get it on anymore, with her daughter in the next room, and is now afraid her stuff will dry up and be no more good!”

Even Ann Marie fell out laughing.

“A toast to Stephanie, who’s been secretly canoodling with her boss and can’t figure out how to say, ‘Boss, I ain’t feeling this no more…but can I still get my raise?’”

Fits of laughter filled the room.

“And to dear old Barbara Allen, who is being pursued by a man young enough to be her son.”

This time even the stereo and the wind outside went silent.

“Stop playing, Barbara,” Elizabeth said. “You would be the last person in the world to fool around, especially with a man young enough to be your son.”

“Yeah. Give me that glass. You’ve had too much to drink.” Stephanie reached for the glass, but Barbara snatched it away.

“We all have,” Ann Marie muttered.

“Why is it so hard to believe that someone would be interested in me?” Barbara shouted, then struggled to her feet. She weaved back and forth for a moment and all eyes followed her swaying motion until she steadied herself. “I’m attractive.”

“Yes, you are,” they agreed.

“I’m still sexy.”

“Um-hmmm.”

“A lot of men would want me.”

“Of course,” Elizabeth said.

“Well, did you do it or didn’t you?” Stephanie asked, getting straight to the point.

“Scared.”

“Of what?” Ann Marie asked.

Barbara plopped down on the love seat and stretched her legs out in front of her. “I haven’t been with a man since Marvin died.”

“Ohhh,” they chorused in sympathy.

“Well, it’s like riding a bike. Once you get on, it all comes back to you,” Ann Marie said.

“That’s very true,” Stephanie added.

Elizabeth sniffed. “I wouldn’t know. That bastard was the only man I’ve ever been with.”

“Ohhh,” they chimed.

“I don’t know if I should get involved…like that,” Barbara said. “He’s a patient of mine.”

“It’s not the same thing as doctor–patient,” Ann Marie offered.

“That’s true,” Stephanie concurred.

“How do you feel about him?” Elizabeth asked.

Barbara turned gentle eyes on her friend. “I like him…a lot.”

“So go for it, girl. You only live once. It’s not like you’re going to marry him,” Stephanie said.

“And every healthy able-bodied woman needs some young lovin’ every now and then,” Ann Marie added.

The trio nodded in agreement.

Barbara sighed. “Wouldn’t it be ideal if women could just sit back and pick who they wanted, when they wanted, how they wanted, with no recriminations.”

“Yep! Old, young, very young, married, single, rich, poor, your employee or your boss,” Stephanie said.

“Yeah, and they’d all been previously screened,” Elizabeth said. “And you could find them all in one place.”

“Yeah, like a male supermarket!” Ann Marie joked.

“Or like in a department-store window,” said Stephanie. “You could window-shop for a man. And they would have to be returnable.”

Barbara giggled. “Yes, they’d all be posing in the window, like puppies in a pet shop. Pick me, pick me.” She giggled again. “And the women would pause to take a look at the men and move along to the next window.”

“Um-hmmm.”

“Wish there was a place like that,” Elizabeth said wistfully.

“Shopping for men would certainly keep our minds off of our own troubles,” Ann Marie said.

“But sometimes you just want to look, you know,” Barbara said.

“And if women sat around ogling men all the time…well, you know what they are called,” Stephanie said before finishing off her drink.

“Still, it would be nice if there was a place where you go to look and fantasize and maybe—” Barbara shrugged “—who knows, maybe something would happen if you wanted it to.”

“Um-hmmm.”

They looked at each other, and their faith, love and trust in their friendship stripped away any inhibitions they may have had and they began talking all at once.

They talked and ate and drank until the sun beamed through the windows of Barbara’s apartment. And they’d come up with an idea that was so far-fetched and deliciously exciting that it simply had to work.

Chapter 6

The aroma of frying bacon tickled Ann Marie’s nose. She turned on her side and tried to ignore it. She needed sleep, more sleep. She put the pillow over her head hoping that it would block out the tap, tap, tapping in her skull. She pulled her knees up to her chin. That didn’t help, either, and if she didn’t know better she’d swear someone was calling “Mama.”

Mama! Damn. She sat straight up in bed, the covers falling off her nude body, and her head did a three-sixty. She pressed her palms to her temples, hoping to slow down the spinning.

“Yes,” she croaked. Her tongue felt like a glue strip.

Her bedroom door eased open. Ann Marie pulled the sheet up to her chin.

“I fixed breakfast,” Raquel said. “I thought you might be hungry.”

“Thanks. You didn’t have to do that.”

“It’s okay. I wanted to.” She stepped into the room, balancing the tray.

Ann Marie looked at her daughter and saw the spitting image of the child’s father; the dark, almost haunting eyes, shadowed by sweeping black brows and a mass of hair that resembled black cotton candy. Oh, yes, Terrance was a looker and so was his daughter.

Raquel gently placed the tray on her mother’s lap. “I’ll leave you to your food.” She turned to go.

Was that a motherly pang she felt tightening her chest at the sad look in her daughter’s eyes? She felt as if she should say something, do something. But she had no idea what.

The door closed quietly behind Raquel. The moment was gone.

Ann Marie toyed with her bacon and eggs. She took a sip of orange juice. What was she going to do about Raquel? There was no way she could let her stay indefinitely. Her mama had put her out on her own at sixteen and she’d never looked back, although she’d wanted to. But her mama had been very clear about having another grown woman in the house beside her. No good, her mama said.

Her situation was different, however. There was more to it than simply having another woman in the house, even if it was her daughter. She sighed and took a bite of bacon. She couldn’t explain it to the girls and she never even voiced her fears out loud. The truth—she was afraid. She couldn’t face the look of disappointment that she knew would linger in those beautiful eyes. So instead of risking that, she would have to make Raquel go, go to wherever it was she needed to be. Anyplace other than here.

By the time Ann Marie finished her breakfast, bathed and dressed, Raquel was gone.

Ann Marie moved slowly through her one-bedroom condo. She checked the living room where Raquel spent the night. Everything was in its place. The smoked-glass tables were spotless, the pillows on the couch were properly fluffed, no dust on the wood floors, and her imported area rug was exactly where it was supposed to be. The bathroom and kitchen were equally as spotless. It was almost as if no one lived there. Almost.

She breathed in deeply the empty air, hoping perhaps to catch at least a brief hint of Raquel’s scent. Even that was absent.

She should be relieved. She put her breakfast dishes in the dishwasher. Oddly, she wasn’t. Walking into the bathroom, she opened the medicine cabinet in search of her bottle of Extra Strength Tylenol. She shook out two gel caps and tossed them down her throat with some water. It would take a good ten to twenty minutes for the full effect to kick in. They’d really tied one on last night and she was paying dearly for it this morning.

Ann Marie frowned, trying to bring the events of the prior evening into focus as she walked back to her bedroom. It seemed that everyone was in some kind of turmoil, as if a cloud of unrest had settled on their quiet block. Ellie with her cheating husband; Stephanie with a boss who wanted more than nine-to-five and good old conservative Barbara being pursued by a boy toy.

She shook her head and laughed. Then snippets of their conversation began to come back to her, something about showcasing men.

Right! She snapped her fingers as the details became clear. A slow smile tipped the corners of her mouth. Yes, even in the light of day their idea was a winner. And if memory served her, she was the first link in the chain.

Picking up her pace, she went into the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee. She’d need to be clearheaded.

While the coffee brewed, Ann Marie turned on her computer in the small room at the end of the hall that she used as an office. She placed her notebook and several empty manila folders on the desk then turned on the printer. To keep her company she popped in a John Legend CD then went to get her coffee.

If there was one thing Ann Marie knew hands down it was a good piece of property—and a man, of course. But finding a true gem of a building and understanding its potential gave her a rush equivalent to sexual expectation.

She smiled to herself as she added Sweet’n Low to her coffee with a dash of canned milk.

Ann Marie had been in the real-estate game for more than fifteen years. Her master’s degree in urban economics helped her to fully appreciate the power of ownership and how easily poor communities can become no more than a memory in a matter of a few short years once an investor with a keen eye discovers the value of a particular area.

She’d been telling her friends for years that they needed to invest in some property. Of course, Ellie was already married with a home, but Barbara and Stephanie came up with one excuse after another why they couldn’t buy.

The area of Harlem where they lived, an area where houses couldn’t be given away ten years earlier, was now so expensive that it was unreachable for most. At least she owned her apartment, and a four-story apartment building on the lower east side of Manhattan that was finally paying for itself after eight years. And she had a town house.