Every Woman Needs a Wife (35 page)

“You mean sticking your feet out of the bottom then peddling like crazy?”

“Exactly! And the fact that it was so slippery and the tires were more than bald—they needed rubber Rogaine just to grip the ground—”

Tanya bent over, giggling like a little girl.

“—we could only drive ten miles an hour. Then to top it off, I ended up in a teaching hospital, which meant a rotating group of interns and residents—doctors and would-be doctors—came around every half an hour to check under the hood. At one point I told them, ‘I’m going to charge admission.’ But then the main doctor grinned and said, ‘But we’re not going inside to watch the show.’ And I said, ‘Yeah, but you’re hanging out in the lobby and it’s all the same to me. Pay up, buster.’ They didn’t visit again until Sierra was ready to come into the world. But when she came looking like her sister, she was just as precious, a tiny thing with all of the same parts we had condensed into a tiny little bundle. I thought it was the most spectacular thing in the world.”

“I could only wish that I could experience it,” Tanya said in a small voice.

♥♥♥

Unfortunately, Tanya would never know the joys of motherhood. She had been rushed from the floor of her father’s library straight to Walton Medical Center. For a few days they kept her under police watch.

Unfortunately, Margaret Jaunal had other ideas.

She waited in the stairwell for hours watching the flutter of activity and people going in and out of her daughter’s room. In the middle of the night, as Officer Goodman nodded off at his post, she slipped by with a big burly man in tow. Tanya jolted awake only long enough to see the white cloth coming toward her.

She awoke later as the man placed her on what looked to be a kitchen table.

“We don’t have time for anesthetics.” Margaret Jaunal’s cold voice snapped Tanya out of her stupor. “Just get it over with.”

Tanya scanned her surroundings and realized she wasn’t in the hospital. “You can’t do this to me,” she said, voice cracking with each word

“You’re not having this child!”

The burly man gripped Tanya’s arm. A hard sting on her face took a minute to register. Her mother had slapped her; she’d never done that before.

Then reality struck like lightening: they were supposed to take a sample of the amniotic fluid to confirm the baby’s paternity, absolute proof of her father’s crime. Unfortunately, the doctor wanted to stabilize Tanya before worrying about proving paternity. If this man performed an abortion there would be no proof and Wilbur Jaunal would be free.

Her mother and the quack tied her hands to the handmade stirrups and yanked her pants down. The moment she lashed out with her feet and connected with the “doctor’s” face, she felt a hard blow to her own. Blood splattered across his already stained lab coat. “Girl, you do that shit again, and I’ll kill ya,” he growled.

The heavyset man’s beady green eyes and cold stare showed he meant every word.

The butcher tied her feet to the cold metal stirrups. He didn’t even clean the instrument before letting it hover over her face. Fear stabbed the center of her gut as a grin spread over his meaty face. In that moment she
knew two things: This man would enjoy hurting her, and she would probably not live to tell about this.

She was right in one case.

Her screams rent the air as pain worse than anything her father had caused tore through her insides as though someone had split her in half—from the middle up. Her throat dried and constricted, but more hoarse screams still came through.

“Shut her up,” he growled, wiggling a long silver instrument inside her, followed by a suctioning sound.

Margaret smacked her again—hard. “Is it done?”

“No! I just opened her up,” he said, struggling to keep Tanya in place. “I have to scrape the kid out, then it’s done.”

“And scrape out everything else, too.”

The man paused and looked up. “I’m not trained to do that!”

Margaret glared at him. “And you’re not licensed to perform abortions, either. But you know something about the female body and where all the working parts are,” she said through clenched teeth. “There can’t be any evidence of DNA from this child left behind.”

The man paused, staring open mouthed at the cold woman standing near Tanya’s head. He said, “You owe me big-time.”

“Just handle it.”

“I know one way you can pay me,” he said.

Margaret Jaunal leveled a steely ice-blue gaze on the man.

He nodded in Tanya’s direction.

“When?”

He grinned, slick black hair falling into his face. “Right after I’m done.”

“You sick bastard,” she spat, inhaling sharply.

“Nothing like fresh clean pussy,” he said with a leer. “And you can’t talk much. You’re covering up for that redneck you married. People in glass houses—”

“Get this shit over with!” Margaret snapped. “I’ll settle up with you later.”

The moment the cold steel touched her skin, Tanya flinched.

Moments later God did Tanya a favor by allowing her to pass out.

When Tanya regained consciousness Margaret’s face loomed above her. “Hurry up,” she said to the quack. “I want to be able to tell Wilbur it’s all done.”

“Finished.” Then man rubbed his hands together as though he had just prepared a seven course meal.

“Come on,” she said, glaring at Tanya.

“But what about—but I wanted—” the man sputtered, but instantly paused with an icy glare from Margaret.

“I said later!”

Tanya lowered her legs from the stirrups the moment the “doctor” untied her shaking feet. The world swam out of focus, and when it came back, she saw stars, stripes, and colors she never knew were in the rainbow.

The second her feet touched the ground, the pain was back—worse than before. Blood flooded the makeshift pad the man had stuffed between her thighs and would soon soak her jeans. If she didn’t get some real help soon, she would die.

Margaret didn’t bother taking Tanya home. She dropped her off at a rarely used Greyhound bus stop and didn’t look back as the wheels of her silver Rolls Royce tore away from the curb.

But little did Margaret know that while she and the “doctor” were outside the room having another argument over his desire to have sex with Tanya, while Tanya was supposed to be getting dressed, the girl had stolen a portion of her baby from the little metal basin the “doctor” had carelessly left sitting there.

She was careful as she dipped the cotton balls into the bloody mess and then into a small bottle that had been sitting within her reach. As she tucked the little bottle into her waistband she vowed that her father would go to jail for what he’d done.

Through tears of pain and anger, she found a way to secure the jar so that it wouldn’t move around, then covered it with her oversized sweatshirt.

The blood flow had slowed considerably, but she knew her next stop had to be the hospital. Unfortunately, Walton Medical Center was more than ten miles away. She would have to draw on every ounce of inner
strength to walk that road. But that’s exactly what she had to do in order to preserve any of the evidence her mother had damned near killed her to erase.

Slowly she raised her chin, looking at the rows of trees stretched out before her like an obstacle course.

She would make it, even if it took her very last breath.

D
inner was lovely. Vernon had prepared honey-roasted chicken, rice pilaf, green beans almondine, tossed salad, and crescent rolls. She didn’t even know he
could
cook. Hell, she didn’t realize he even knew how to turn on the stove.

Vernon eyed her closely as she gathered her things. “Where are you going? We haven’t even—”

“Home to my wife.”

His face darkened. “When are you gonna stop with that bullshit?”

“Hey, you wanted to play the game. Don’t get mad when I take all my toys and go home. I like things they way they are,” she said. “If you have a problem with it, then put this separation into high gear, finalize the divorce, sign the papers, and let’s get on with our lives.”

“Let’s just end this whole court thing; let me come back home. I don’t want a divorce!”

“Neither do I,” she replied. “But reality is reality. There’s nothing you can do about Tanya right now. You’ve had her for two years, on my time and
my
money. Fairness says I deserve the same.”

His eyes widened in shock. “So you’re gonna keep her for the
whole
two years?”

“At least, maybe longer.” Brandi winked. “She might like what I do for her.” She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “And she’s doing quite well as my wife. I can’t say it enough: You’ve got great taste.”

Stunned, he lashed out, “You bitch!”

Brandi laughed as she tied the sash around her coat. “Not the nicest words you’ve ever spoken to me, but you’ve said worse.”

Vernon stared at her.

“Let’s get married,” she said with a mild shrug. “Yeah, it was something like that.”

“Are you sleeping with her?”

“Not yet.” She leaned in, whispering, “But I’ll keep you posted. I’m wondering if she’s better at it than you are.”

Anger flashed in his eyes; his nostrils flared just a little. He was pissed!

“But as happy as Tanya is right now, I don’t think she’d have a problem overlooking the fact that I’m missing that vital piece of equipment.” She reached down, stroking his dick through his trousers. “Good sex isn’t about what you have dangling between your legs.” She strolled toward the door, laughing. “But I’m sure you knew that already. But then again, maybe you don’t.”

Fury raged within him, followed by a feeling of helplessness. He thought he was close to getting his wife to see reason. Now he knew that nothing could be further from the truth.

“J
udge, this ruling doesn’t fit the law,” Mason Myers said, standing to make his point.

Unmoved, Judge Bowden popped a sunflower seed in his mouth. “There’s a legally signed and executed contract with the family, and a clinical assessment has been completed as to the children’s take on things. They’re actually loving the extra attention. To me, it’s like Mrs. Kaufman is a live-in nanny, personal assistant, and helpmate all in one. There’s no sexual involvement between the women.” He lowered his piercing gray gaze to Brandi whose lips twitched trying to keep in a laugh. “Unless Mrs. Spencer has something to add—”

“Oh, no, Your Honor,” she said waving her hand in a delicate flourish before placing it on her chest. “Live-in nanny, personal assistant and all that. Nothing more. She actually—ouch!” Brandi scowled at Avie, growling, “Woman, if you kick me again, you’ll need your own lawyer.”

“Then cut it out,” Avie said through clenched teeth. She leaned forward, gripping Brandi’s arm in her slender hands and addressed the court. “That’s all, Judge. No sexual involvement.”

“So my rulings
do
fit within the laws of community property,” he said with eyes locked on Attorney Myers. “The contract belongs to the wife by execution, and to the husband by implied action. He had the woman’s—ahem—
services
for two years, and the wife wants a little of the same. She keeps the two-year contract and the mistress, and will receive maintenance for her upkeep, plus child support. Her involvement with Tanya Kaufman will not be held against her.”

Vernon stood. “So if I’m paying maintenance for Kaufman, then I should get something, too.”

“What you already had is why we’re here in the first place.”

“And I paid for it then, too,” Vernon shrieked. Then he scratched his head. “That didn’t come out too good. I want custody and some time with the mistress, too, if I’m paying. I might as—”

“That’s your wife’s point, Mr. Spencer.” Judge Bowden grinned. “Then let’s even things up. Can your wife sleep with her?”

Brandi blinked and laid a hand on her breast, saying in a breathy whisper, “Well, if I must…”

“No! No—no,” Vernon sputtered. “No!”

“Then you’ve got to keep it in your pants,” the judge said with a small smile. “Maybe you’ll learn something. No sexual contact with the mistress.”

Mason’s jaw dropped. He brushed off his maroon striped suit, then looked up at the judge. “Are you doing this because you’re running for office?”

Judge Bowden craned his neck, looking behind him. Then he turned to Mason, one eyebrow raised. “The office is running away from me? When did that happen?”

“Sir?”

The portly bailiff laughed behind his hand.

“I don’t run away from anything that’s not running from me,” the judge said, leveling cool gray eyes on the lawyer. “So I don’t get your point.”

Mason grimaced as Vernon glowered at him, saying, “Political office.”

“Oh, that,” Judge Bowden said with a shrug. “You think this is all because I’m playing up to the female population for a few votes?”

“Well, what else could it be?”

“The fact that the wife has done her homework and came prepared, and all your client has is accusations and hot air,” he shot back. “And the infidelity issue is not helping him at all.”

“You’re too biased to hear this case,” Mason said, rocking on his heels.

“You want to remove me from this case? This late in the game? Go right ahead and try it,” the judge said with a sly grin on his paper-thin lips. “My fellow arbitrators only wish they had a case like this. And I guarantee they might not be so…nice.”

Mason looked over at Vernon, who stared blankly ahead.

“Now as I was saying, before
someone
so rudely interrupted—” Judge Bowden flexed his pudgy fingers—“the house on Wabash Avenue will remain empty until it is sold. The proceeds will be split fifty-fifty.”

Vernon jumped to his feet. “Why can’t I live there?” Mason tried to yank him down, but Vernon shrugged him off. “I have to pay half the mortgage! So why can’t I have a place to live?”

Judge Bowden peered over the top of his glasses at Vernon. “Because you’re supposed to do counseling so you
can
go back home—
your
wish, mind you. The counselor said you walked out, when I’ve ordered you to be there.”