A Weekend Affair (2 page)

I came back to the present as I told Gabby the whole sordid tale.

“Shit just got worse from there,” I said. “He and I continued to fight. My kids had to see and hear all of this. I lost it, Gabby. I just lost it. In my house, in our room, with our children downstairs. He had no regard for me, no respect for our children, or our marriage.”

“That's a dirty—and I'm sorry, I'm just gonna say it—nigga. That's a dirty damn nigga.”

Gabby's words shocked me. She normally didn't use any kind of profanity or use the N-word.

“It gets worse,” I kept going.

I looked out the blinds of my front window. Darkness engulfed my home, but it was bright and shiny on the outside world. Real life depicted my mood. I smiled and fronted on the outside for my children; on the inside, I was a mess.

“Oh God, what else happened?” Gabby wanted to know.

“After all of that, after all that shit, he left. Took the car and left. I haven't been able to get the kids to school on time. Hassan has to be at school by seven forty-five. Malik doesn't come to the house until about eight fifteen. He's talking about going back to New York. And that's not the worst part.”

“Can it get any worse, Shell? I mean, really. Girl . . .”

She sounded as exasperated as I felt.

“He doesn't work at Anna's anymore. He hasn't worked there in about three weeks. The car note hasn't been paid. My electricity has been cut off.”

“But didn't you give him your school refund to take care of all this stuff?”

I nodded as if she could see me. The tears had stopped, but the ache and hollowness I felt hadn't.

“I did. Apparently, he's been buying her dinner and leaving flowers on her doorstep. Bought her a new bedroom set and all.”

“How—what? How do you know this?”

“Janay told me.”

“So you're talking to this trash-box hooker?”

“I called her. Asked her how long all this had been going on.”

“And she told you?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, goodness, I'm so sorry, Shell. Where are the kids?”

“They're at Renee's for now.”

“And what did she have to say about all this?”

I sighed inwardly, thinking about my mother. I called her by her first name because I didn't feel she deserved the title mother, mom, or mama. There was long, tainted history between my mother and me, and it showed in the way we regarded each other.

“She asked me what I'd done to make my husband feel he needed a mistress.”

Gabby made a sound that said she was disgusted. “Ugh, I have no comment. That's your mother, so I have no comment, but you already know how I feel. Give me the information to your power company.”

“Gabby, I already owe you money.”

“Shell, this isn't the time to be prideful, okay? Give me your information and let me take care of this for you. You can be prideful later. You need your kids home with you. God forbid Malik tries to pull some shady crap and take the kids to that chick's house.”

I wanted to fight her on the matter, I did. But she was right. It was my pride making me feel like I shouldn't take the help from her. After I told her what she wanted to know, I sat in silence as she went online and paid the over three hundred-dollar bill in full. I didn't know what would happen after all this. Had no clue how to proceed. All I kept thinking was, this kind of thing doesn't happen in real life. It only happened in Tyler Perry and Lifetime movies. Apparently, my life had taken on a Perry production with a Lifetime turn of events.

I couldn't believe what Shell had told me. Scratch that; I
totally
believed it. What I couldn't believe was that she actually came clean about it. I mean, what woman would want to admit to something so horrible, something that she had been warned about ad nauseam. I admit, I had beat the topic into the ground, made it known on the regular that I thought Malik was cheating on her. But in my defense, Shell had given me more than enough ammunition to think the worst of Malik. And when it was all said and done, I was right, although, after hearing the sadness and despair in Shell's voice, I wished I had been wrong.

Not only had that trifling, no-account loser beat her down mentally and emotionally, but now one could add desecration, humiliation, and abandonment to his long list of marital crimes. Bad enough he was cheating on Shell, but to do it in her home, in the bed they shared, with her children right downstairs—that was just vile. I was disgusted just thinking about it. She'd probably hate me for this, but I thought the best thing Malik ever did for Shell was leave.

Yes, I hated the fact that he basically left her and their children destitute, with no funds saved for her financial security and with only occasional royalty checks from her books that she had written, but he was dead weight who contributed very little to the household to begin with. It may not seem that way right now, but in the long run, she would be better off without him.

Understandably, Shell had sunken into a deep depression, and there was nothing I could do to get her out of her own head, not over the phone anyway. Over the next few days, we still talked on the phone daily, but much of the time, she would zone out on me, lost in her own thoughts. Which was why, after a week of her mood swings, I couldn't take it anymore and suggested we get away for a few days.

Not only would the trip allow Shell to vent all her frustrations in person, but it would also give me time to gain perspective, unclutter my own life, and clear my head from all the chaos around me. A hectic job, an ex who was going off the rails, and I was more than ready for some much needed me time. The plan was to kick back, check out the sights, soak up some local culture, then return home renewed and refreshed. At least, that's what I had hoped.

Let me back up for a minute to properly introduce myself. My name is Gabrielle. I currently reside in North Carolina, although at heart, I was still a true-blue city girl from Brooklyn, New York. What prompted me to move, you might ask. The simple answer: the cold weather back home had gotten the better of me. The real answer: I finally realized how stagnant I was in my job. Working as a pediatrician was nice, but it just wasn't fulfilling anymore. I realized I needed to do more with my life. That's when my then boyfriend, Daniel, and I packed everything up and moved down South a little over five years ago looking for a change of scenery and a warmer climate.

Careerwise, my life was on the upswing. A year before moving, I started applying for several sports medicine fellowships. I was lucky enough to secure a one-year fellowship at the University of North Carolina-Chapel Hill. Once that was completed, I began working at a well-known sports medicine center in the Raleigh-Durham-Chapel Hill area. I had finally found my true calling, and I was loving every minute of it.

My relationship, on the other hand . . . Let's just say it crashed, burned, and disintegrated much like the Hindenburg. The first few years were pretty good, but as time passed, I felt more and more unfulfilled. For starters, Daniel was about as affectionate as a cold, dead fish floating in the Arctic. Anytime I initiated any type of display of affection, such as a hug or a kiss, his standard response to me would be, “You're freaking me out.”
Seriously?
Who does that? Not to mention his idea of intimacy was telling me to go into the bedroom and pull my panties down. I was so turned off by him that I hadn't slept with him in six months.

Any time I voiced my concerns, he made me feel like I was asking too much from our relationship, and yet, all I wanted was the
basics
; to feel loved and respected, like I actually mattered. One day, after twelve long, wasted years of settling and being unhappy, I decided I wanted out. I knew the relationship was going nowhere. No chance of marriage, no chance of children, no chance of anything. And I wanted to go somewhere—just not with him. When it was all said and done, I broke things off with Daniel, and while it felt good to finally be free, it was also terrifying. I spent most of my adult life being in a relationship, and now I had to start over; problem was, I didn't know how, and honestly, I wasn't sure I wanted to.

After the breakup, I buried myself in work, mainly, so I wouldn't have to deal with my pathetic lack of a social life. Unfortunately, I was basically a homebody and had very few friends in the state, which meant when I was home, I had nothing but time on my hands to contemplate my depressing existence. While I had a great career, the rest of my life was in a very sad state of affairs.

Worst still, as a constant reminder of my relationship failings, Daniel refused to accept the fact that we were over. It started with constant phone calls to both my home and cell phones at all hours of the day and night, begging me to take him back. It had gotten to the point that I was forced to block his number on both phones. When his phone calls failed to sway me, he began cyber stalking me, creating fake people via e-mail and Facebook to harass and threaten me, trying to make it seem as if I needed his protection.

Little did he know, I was more cyber savvy than he gave me credit for, tracing the e-mails back to him. I had half a mind to call the police on him, but I didn't want to be responsible for sending another black man to jail, although Shell was all for it. Instead, I confronted Daniel about his antics. Of course, at first, he denied everything, but when I showed him proof about the e-mails, he eventually came clean and promised to back off. Because he seemed so sincere, I eventually unblocked him.

Finally, I thought to myself, my life can get to some semblance of normalcy, and I was going to enjoy every minute of it. That's when I decided I needed a well-earned vacation. I could have easily scheduled a trip back home, but since I was already going back for the Christmas holidays, I wanted to go someplace new and different. I talked to Shell, and she suggested Tybee Island, Georgia.

“I've never heard of Tybee Island. Where is that exactly?” I questioned.

“It's about a five-hour drive from the Atlanta airport, or forty minutes if you fly into Savannah,” she replied. “When are you going on vacation?”

I had already scheduled my vacation for February. While it was technically wintertime, the state of Georgia was notorious for having unseasonably warm weather at that time of the year. And it was off-peak season, meaning the rental rates would be much cheaper. My timing now seemed like fate, considering everything that was going on with Shell.

“I have the first two weeks of February off.”

“That's perfect,” she noted. “The Savannah Black Heritage Festival will be going on, and I think you'd love it.”

Shell spent the next five minutes telling me all about the festival, how it ran for almost the entire month of February, and about the activities that took place. She really didn't need to convince me. I was already sold.

“Do you think you can get away for a few days?” I asked.

You could hear a pin drop as I waited for her to respond. I knew Shell was wallowing and wasn't really up for a good time, but she needed this trip just as much as I did. And although she was reluctant to leave her kids for a few days, even she knew she needed a break.

Finally, sighing, she replied, “I'm not sure. You know my money situation. Besides, I'm not sure I'll be feeling up to it. I can't make any promises, but I'll see what I can do. I'm due a royalty check in a few days, so I might be able to swing it.”

“And what you can't cover, I've got the rest. As far as you not feeling up to it, all I'm asking you to do is show up. I'll handle everything else.” I wasn't giving her the option of backing out.

The only other issue left to address was who was going to watch her kids for the few days she was away, being that her childcare options were very limited. She had very few family members in her area, and the ones she did have were either not reliable or were not the most altruistic. Any help she received always came with conditions. And she definitely wasn't going to ask Malik to watch the kids, especially because he was staying with his side ho.

“Shell, I hate to bring this up, but the kids—”

“You already know,” she replied, cutting me off. “I'll have to ask Renee, and there's no telling what she'll say or what she'll want in return.”

I shook my head in disgust. I couldn't understand how a grandmother could treat her own grandchildren so callously. Then again, her mothering skills left a lot to be desired. Shell's relationship with Renee was strained at best, estranged at worst. But considering the alternatives, Renee was her best bet. Despite her shortcomings, Leianni and Hassan adored her.

“Well, ask her anyway. You're taking this trip no matter what,” I stated firmly.

“Yes, Mom,” she laughed. Shell knew better than to argue with me.

As luck would have it, Renee was in an agreeable mood and said she would watch the kids. Of course, she wanted some cash to do it, but it was a small price to pay for Shell's peace of mind.

Fast-forward and here I was, the evening before the trip. I had some obsessive-compulsive tendencies, so I made sure that, aside from my toothbrush and some other essentials, I was packed at least two days prior. I took a nice hot shower around nine o'clock, planning to go to bed a bit earlier than usual since I had a very early flight.

Being a chronic insomniac, sleep was precious to me, so imagine my annoyance as I was awakened in the middle of the night by someone obnoxiously banging on my door. My annoyance quickly turned to sheer revulsion when I looked through the peephole seeing who it was. For two months, Daniel had actually stayed true to his word. That was . . . until now. He was pleading for me to let him in. I was afraid someone was going to call the police, so I reluctantly complied.

“What do you want, Daniel?” I asked, clearly vexed at him for interrupting what little sleep I had gotten.

“I need you,” he slurred, trying to hug me. He smelled like a distillery. “You're all I have left.”

I backed away from him, rubbing my palms down the front of my face. “Daniel, I don't know what's going on, but we're not together anymore. Ergo, you don't have me.” My eyes were beginning to burn from lack of sleep, only adding to my irritation. “I'm really tired, so whatever you have to say, please just say it and go.”

“G, I lost my job. You're the only good thing I have left in my life.” He fell to his knees, tears in his eyes.

I sighed knowing I was probably about to make a huge mistake. “Daniel,” I said, reaching my hand out to him, “please get up.”

Sometimes I was a big softy, and right now, I was having one of those moments.

He took my hand, slowly getting to his feet, stumbling slightly. “I don't know what to do now, G.”

I led him into the living room over to my oversized black velvet touch couch.

“Just relax, while I make you some coffee so we can talk,” I said walking into the kitchen.

I wasn't a coffee drinker myself, but I always kept some on hand for guests. I pulled the container out of the cabinet, placing two teaspoons in a mug, then I added some water and put the mug in the microwave for one and a half minutes. During that time, I went to check on Daniel. When I reached the living room I noticed he was knocked out. I was jealous. It was always so easy for him to get to sleep, and stay asleep. Shaking my head, I walked over to my linen closet, fishing out a blanket. I took it back to the couch and covered him with it. I then turned out all the lights, taking my weary self to bed for what little time I had left.

Despite being bone tired, I was still excited about my trip. Nothing, or no one, was going to ruin that for me. I got ready, packing the few items I still needed for my trip. I had scheduled a cab the night before, and it was supposed to arrive in fifteen minutes. I carried my knapsack and carry-on bag to the foyer, leaving them by the front door. Then I walked into the living room to get Daniel up. He looked horrible, and he still smelled of tequila.

“Wake up, Daniel,” I said, gently tapping him on the shoulder.

He slowly began to stir. “What's up?” he uttered, looking dazed and confused.

“You don't remember?”

“Remember what?”

I glanced at my watch, knowing that the cab would be arriving in ten short minutes. I needed to get Daniel out of my place so I could lock up. “Long story short, you showed up at my door drunk as a skunk crying about how you lost your job. Then you fell asleep.”

He sat up slowly, clearly hungover. “Damn, I don't even know how I got here.”

“I'm guessing you drove yourself. Not smart, by the way,” I said, glancing at my watch, trying not to seem impatient. I actually felt bad for him about the whole job situation.

Daniel looked as if a lightbulb had turned on. “You're up early. Going somewhere?”

“Actually, I am. And I really need to be outside when this cab shows up.”

“Where are you going?” he asked nosily.

“Away for the weekend,” I replied.

“That's not what I asked you.”

So much for feeling sorry for him.

“Well, that's all the response you're going to get.” My patience was really starting to wear thin.