More Lies and Alibis (Using Lies as Alibis #2) Page 5
As soon as I hear Rod disconnect his call, I yell, “Rod!”
He walks into the room with a deep frown on his face. If he’s directing that at me, he can keep it. I’m the one that should be frowning.
“So how far, exactly, does your amnesia go back? I know you remember our marriage, and you don’t remember Peach or your daughter, but did you also forget your business transactions? Did you know you were an owner in that strip club? Is your amnesia current? Did you forget to tell me that you got your hoe a job at your club?”
Rod closes his eyes tightly. “Dionne. Not now, babe. I can’t take this from you too.”
Did he seriously just call me babe? Oh, I see he thinks this is a game.
“Why do you think I don’t deserve to know about this, Rod? You got me out here looking crazy!”
“No. I have you out here in designer clothes, jewelry, luxury cars and living in mansions. You’ve never cared about my business before Dionne. Yes, I am a part owner of Club Hurricane. We inked the deal not too long after I got shot. My lawyer presented the opportunity and I jumped on it.”
“So you did get Peach a job there?”
He shakes his head. “No. I have absolutely nothing to do with the day to day operations of the club. The manager does the hiring and firing.”
“I guess she just interviews well, huh?”
Rod sighs. “Of course, they knew she was connected to me. She’s got some notoriety. You may not like it, but it’s good for business. Good business means more money for you to waste on planning parties.”
“I’m wasting money? This is our baby shower. We’re celebrating the birth of our child, here.”
“Yeah, but it didn’t have to be this expensive. I just saw the florist bill. Did you really need three hundred white orchids? In December?”
I give Rod a blank stare. He’s trying to turn this around on me. It’s not my fault that his baby mama got him twisted.
“Since we are talking about unnecessary expenditures,” I say. “Why does Peach have a monthly allowance?”
“It’s an agreement that I made before I got shot. My lawyer says that it is binding. I’m not sure why we made the agreement, and not even my lawyer knows all of it. Part of the reason, of course, was that I never wanted you to find out about Rodeisha.”
“But you were going to leave me for her.”
Rod rubs his head and sighs. “I was divorcing you, but I didn’t want you to know about Rodeisha before the divorce was final, because you’d be able to get more money in the settlement. That’s what my lawyer told me.”
I shake my head. “Wow, Rod. Really? This is a big mess.”
“It is. I just want to know that you have my back.”
“Don’t I always?”
“You have always held it down for me, Dee. I don’t know what I was thinking when I was going to leave you.”
“I don’t know either.”
The doorbell rings, and although I know it’s Hailey coming over to help me with the final plans for my baby shower, I don’t move. I’m seven months pregnant, and we’ve got too much help for me to leave my serenity space to answer the door.
Rod doesn’t move either. I guess he doesn’t think the help is a wasted expense, because he acts like he can’t answer doors either.
I hear Grandma Baker’s voice. “Well, of course you can leave her here, but don’t you want me to get the baby’s daddy first?”
Wait. Who in the world is Grandma Baker talking to? I know Peach didn’t bring her trifling tail over to my house with that little girl. Rod rushes out of the room and leaves me sitting on the couch.
I shimmy my extra pregnant self off the couch and waddle into the foyer. Just like I thought, little Rodeisha is standing there holding my grandmother’s hand. But it’s not Peach who is standing outside my door, it’s her live-in nanny.
“Hello Mr. Knight, I do apologize for just bringing Rodeisha here, but I didn’t know what else to do. Her mother just left her there with me. She said it is your weekend and she has things to do.”
“We just tried to pick her up and Peach wouldn’t let her leave. Why the change of heart now?” I ask.
“She got an important job with some professional football players here for the weekend. Please don’t tell her I told you that. She would be angry, but I have to go and take care of my mother. She’s sick and the nurse is off on Sundays.”
“An important job?” Rod asks.
I wave my hand in the air in a dismissive motion. “Oh, of course she can stay. This is her home too. Let Peach know that even though she left her child to go chase ballers, that she’s safe with her father and stepmother.”
The nanny nods. “Thank you so much.”
Rod closes the door and frowns. “I don’t like this.”
“What? You wanted to spend some time with your daughter, and now she’s here. Plus, she can participate in the family photo shoot we’re doing for the baby shower.”
Grandma Baker walks out of the room shaking her head. “Lawd have mercy, Jesus.”
I look down at Rodeisha’s wide, blinking eyes. She looks nervous. I can only imagine the type of life she has with Peach as a mama. Ratchet.com.
“Do you want to go shopping for a new dress?” I ask Rodeisha.
Her eyes light up. “Can it be pink?” she asks.
“Well, we can get you a pink dress too, but you need a very special white one. We’re taking pictures today. Would you like that?”
She nods. “A photo shoot?”
Rod and I exchange glances. What does a three year old know about a photo shoot?
“You know, Ms. Dionne! When you put on your pretty panties and take a bunch of pictures!”
Rodeisha runs over to the wall, puts her palms on it and glances over her shoulder seductively.
“Like this, Ms. Dionne!”
Suddenly, I feel sad for Rodeisha. She deserves so much more than a life with a ghetto stripper who lets her baby watch while she does booty poses for the camera. Rod is furious.
“You’ve seen your mother taking pictures like that?”
“Mmm-hmm! She got a calendar!” Rodeisha proclaims proudly.
I take my cell phone out of my pocket and call Hailey.
“Hey Dionne, I know I’m late, but I’m on my way,” she says before I get the chance to say anything.
“It’s okay. Can you come over in about two hours? I’ve got to take Rodeisha shopping for our family photos. We can talk about the shower after that.”
“Okay. Look at you being the good stepmother. Next thing you’ll be playing tea with her and braiding her hair.”
I imagine this and decide that it’s not such a bad thing. “Maybe. I don’t know. See you in a little bit, okay?”
As I press end on my cell phone, Rod picks Rodeisha up into his arms. He hugs her tightly and tickles her little neck with kisses.
“Daddy! Your beard is scratchy!”
Rod sets her down and she runs over to me. “Are we going to get that dress now?”
I take Rodeisha’s hand and grab my purse from the foyer table. “Yes we are! And some hot chocolate too!”
“Motherhood looks good on you Dionne,” Rod says.
I give him a weak smile in return. With everything I’m learning about Rod, I can’t get excited about his small kindnesses. All I can do is make plans and exit strategies.
“It does, doesn’t it? You just keep that in mind when you go shopping for my push gift.”
Rod chuckles. “Your push gift?”
“Yes. I am partial to designer clothes, jewelry and cars, just so you know.”
Rod walks over and kisses me on the lips. I don’t push him away, but I don’t kiss him back.
“I know exactly what you like,” he says.
Rodeisha giggles. “Ooh! Y’all bout to do it.”
Rod’s good mood immediately fades. “What do you mean, honey? Do what?”
She covers her hand with her mouth and continues to giggle.
r /> Rod squats down until he’s eye level with Rodeisha. “Have you seen your mommy do it?” he asks.
No longer laughing, Rodeisha blinks rapidly. “I can’t say that Daddy. Mommy would be mad.”
“We won’t tell her, honey. I promise.”
Rodeisha looks up at me and my grandmother, and we both give her looks of reassurance. Rod needs to know what his child is being exposed to.
“Sometimes,” Rodeisha says in an almost whisper, “my mommy and her boyfriends do it in the bed.”
“And you’re in the room?” Rod asks. I can hear him struggle to keep his voice from sounding angry.
“I sneak in and hide in the closet until they come in. Then, I watch. Mommy dances first, in her panties. Then they do it. Mommy likes it, and her boyfriends give her money after.”
Rod puts his face in both hands and his entire body shakes. He looks ready to explode.
“Don’t tell Daddy! She won’t like it if she knew I hid in the closet. She might hit me.”
“She hits you too?” Rod asks.
“Only when I make her mad.”
Rod looks up at me. “Dionne, take her now. Get her whatever she wants. We’ll talk later.”
“You okay?” I ask him.
“No, but I’m going to be. And so is my daughter.”
Rod takes out his cell phone as he walks out of the room. I know he’s got to be calling his lawyer.
Grandma Baker who has been standing in the hall entry says, “Lord have mercy here! I’m going to pray over this situation here.”
Then, she walks over to Rodeisha and puts her hand on her head. “Jesus, be a fence around this precious and innocent child. Lord, don’t let this baby see too much anymore. Be a protection over her mind, soul and spirit! In the name of Jesus!”
Grandma Baker isn’t playing about this, and I know she’s about to get all of her other prayer warriors involved. When those ladies start praying, stuff starts happening. Shoot, Rod lived when the doctors said he wasn’t gonna make it.
Peach better watch out. She sure can’t blackmail God like she’s trying to do my man. She can go have a seat. Well, since her behind is so big, she might need to have two seats pushed together.
Chapter Ten
Camille
When I walk into the house, Bryan is already sitting at our dining room table, with a laptop open, and cartons of half eaten Chinese food in front of him. At least I know that I don’t have to cook dinner, but I was hoping that I could stall a little on his budget conversation.
“You got Chinese?”
“Yes, I know it’s not good for me, but I didn’t want you to have to cook. This is going to take a while. Come on and have a seat.”
I peel off my coat and hang it on the coat rack, trying to think of a way to escape.
“I may not have all night,” I say. “My sister’s baby shower is on New Year’s Day. I think she wanted me to help her with some things this evening.”
This is a total lie, of course. Up until now, I didn’t even plan on attending that star-studded fiasco Dionne is planning.
“This is more important than your rich sister. I don’t want us to go into a new year with the baggage from this year. Part of that baggage is our finances.”
As much as I hate to admit it, he’s right. Our finances aren’t the best even when I’m not spending money on the lottery, or at the bingo hall, or at the casino. But we’ve been okay. The Lord has kept us.
I sit down at the table in front of Bryan. “So what are we going to do? What are we going to change?”
“First of all, we are putting this house on the market. We don’t have any children, and it doesn’t look like we’re going to anytime soon, so we’re selling this and downgrading to a townhouse.”
I’m so shocked and appalled by this suggestion that my words get choked in my throat. We don’t have much, but at least we have this house. I can’t let Bryan take my home away from me.
“N-no! Not my house. I have a garden in the back, and we’ve got colors picked out for the nursery and everything. I can’t believe you think God isn’t going to bless us with a child. And what happened to adoption? Why aren’t we talking about that anymore?”
“Do you actually think I’d bring a child into this dysfunctional home?”
My bottom lip quivers. “I thought we were doing better, Bryan. I don’t think of us as dysfunctional.”
“At any rate, I’ve been listening to Dave Ramsey on the radio and his financial advice for us would be to sell this house. We’re upside down on it, and we don’t need the space. The decision is made. I’ve already met with a realtor to put it on the market.”
“Without talking to me first?”
Bryan smirks and taps some keys on his laptop. “I didn’t know real estate transactions required a discussion. You didn’t discuss anything with me when you bought your illegal properties.”
Well, of course, Bryan would bring that up. That’s what he does. He’s just like the devil wanting to harp on things that are already covered under the blood.
“Also,” Bryan continues, “I have cancelled all of the debit cards on our account. We will only use cash. Every dollar will have a name.”
“What do you mean?”
“Every expense that we have is going to be on this spreadsheet. Everything.”
“Even my personal purchases?”
Bryan spins the laptop around and points at the screen. “Health and beauty items.”
“Well, what about my play money?”
Now Bryan looks irritated. “What play money? You don’t need play money. Every dime outside of our expenses is going into our savings account.”
“So, what about monthly lunch with my sisters?”
Bryan sighs and points at the computer screen again. “We will budget for that. Monthly lunch with your sisters costs about thirty dollars, right?”
What I’m really worried about is that I won’t have anything that’s to myself. My mama and my Grandmere Batiste told me to never let my man control all the money. I’m supposed to have a stash, and he’s making that almost impossible.
“Why do we have to do this spreadsheet thing? Why can’t we just pay the bills? And I don’t want to sell my house. I’m not in agreement with that.”
“Well you better get in agreement, Camille. You’ve been running amuck. The saints have told me that you are a regular fixture at several local bingo halls. Can you imagine how that makes me feel?”
“How what makes you feel? That I play bingo or that the saints came and told you?”
“Both! I am the Minister of Music at our church! You can’t just be out here doing whatever you want. It’s time to pull in the reins. You’ve been manipulative and deceptive long enough.”
“I’m manipulative and deceptive?”
Bryan nods. “You’re both.”
“What do you even mean by that?”
Bryan scoots back from the table and walks out of the room. Is the conversation over? Is this spreadsheet over? Because I am over it!
Bryan walks back into the room holding a dictionary.
“Manipulative. Influencing or attempting to influence the behavior or emotions of others for one’s own purposes.”
I suck my teeth. “You can’t be serious.”
“Deceptive. Apt or tending to mislead by a false appearance or statement.”
“That’s what you think I am?” I ask.
Bryan nods. “You are both. Or you have been lately. You didn’t used to be. So maybe this year things will change and you’ll get back to being the woman I married.”
I am surprised at the tears that roll down my cheeks. I thought I was beyond being hurt by Bryan’s harsh words, but this time he really hit below the belt. I made a mistake, but it was only because I didn’t think he’d support me.
“You know, if I felt like you were in this with me, maybe I would’ve shared with you my home buying opportunity,” I say.
“Illegal house flipping ventur
e.”
“Well, of course you can say that now, but I didn’t know it then! If you were concerned about us getting all of the financial blessings that God wants us to have, then we would be on the same page. A team.”
“The problem, my dear wife, is that you only care about financial blessings. To the point where it makes you crazy.”
“The Bible says that God has given us the power to get wealth.”
“Yes, He has! But what are you doing to get it, Camille? Do you have a business venture, gift or calling?”
“I’ve sown seeds that will reap a bountiful harvest, pressed down, shaken together…”
“Listen to yourself! You only think about money. You are so desperate and materialistic. You hang with your sister Dionne too much. She’s so pressed for cash that she’s popping out babies with a man who’s cheated on her in front of the world.”
“Why are you talking about my sister? She has nothing to do with this.”
Bryan nods. “You’re right, because this has nothing to do with Dionne or Sydney. This is about me and you. From here on out if you want to spend money on something not on this spreadsheet, you will have to fill out a paper requisition.”
“Like what we do at church?”
“Yes. You know exactly how that process works.”
“And who decides if it is approved?”
“I do,” Bryan says. “And our bank account will now require both of our signatures to make a withdrawal.”
“So, you’re in control of everything now?”
“I am the head of this household. I don’t consider it to be control. I just think it’s leading. And remember, I can’t take out money without your signature either.”
“And what if I don’t agree to any of this?”
“Then, I won’t think that you want this marriage to work. I’m trying really hard to put all of your misdeeds behind us, Camille.”
My misdeeds? My misdeeds! Oh, he is really trying my salvation right now, because I feel a cussing demon getting ready to rise up and attach itself to my spirit!
“Bryan, I think we both have some things that we have forgiven. How about you not keep account of mine, and I won’t keep account of yours.”
Bryan laughs out loud. “You talking about that girl in the choir? That was never proven. I know you’re not trying to hold me to rumors.”