More Lies and Alibis (Using Lies as Alibis #2) (5 page)

“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 venture.”

“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.”

Maybe I didn’t catch him in the act, but that girl was telling the truth.  I know she was.  Just because her baby happened to belong to her little college boyfriend doesn’t mean that she wasn’t also sleeping with Bryan.  Plus, Bryan is broke.  It’s not like she was trying to come up by accusing him of being the father of her child.

“I’m not holding you to anything.  That’s the point.  I’d like the same courtesy.”

“I will give you that.  But I need you to go along with this financial plan for a while, until we get our money in order.”

I decide not to fight about it right now, because I don’t think I will be successful.  But God is going to have to open heaven Himself and whisper in my ear that He wants us to sell this house. 

Because if I don’t hear from the Lord, it’s not happening.

Chapter Eleven

Sydney

I stand in front of the surgical schedule board and look at the time I’ve selected for Stephanie’s silicone removal.  I still don’t know if I think this surgery is the best for my patient, but since Fatima is the one who made the suggestion, I’m scared that my hesitation has something to do with the fact that I can’t stand her.

Jillian the intern walks up and stands next to me
.  “Am I scrubbing in?” she asks.

“You want to?”

“Um…yeah.  How many times will I get to remove booty shots from a stripper’s behind?”

I laugh out loud.  “I know, right?  I mean how much booty does one girl need?”

“Apparently, the bigger the better at that club where they work.  Stephanie said her tips tripled the night after she got the shots.”

“Wow.”

“And guess what.  That new doctor, Fatima, she said that she stripped her way through medical school.  Did you know that?”

I narrow my eyes in disbelief.  “No she didn’t!  Fatima is a trust fund brat.  Why would she tell you that?”

Jillian shrugs.  “Maybe she was just trying to make Stephanie feel comfortable about the surgery.  She was explaining to her how it would work.”

I close my eyes and inhale a sharp breath.  Why is this chic determined to muscle in on my surgery?  She’s not scrubbing in, no matter what she thinks. 

“I will explain the surgery to my patient.”

“Oh, of course.  I just…maybe I shouldn’t have told you that.  Are you mad?” Jillian looks worried. 

I shake my head and place a reassuring hand on her shoulder.  “I am not mad, and I promise I won’t let Dr. Graham know that you told me.”

“Oh, good!  Did you know Dr. Graham in college?  How do you know about her trust fund?”

“I knew her.”

“That’s all?  Were you friends?
”

I don’t really want the intern crew all up in my business and gossiping about any suspected love triangles.

“We were in the same circles, but I can’t say that we were friends.”

“Oh, because, you didn’t hear it from me, but I heard she said that she and Lucas used to date.
  She says he’s the one who got away.”

“That was so long ago.  I really don’t remember who dated whom,” I say.  I bite my bottom lip to keep from screaming at the top of my lungs.

Jillian says, “It would be kind of awkward if you did remember that, huh?  Since you and Lucas are kind of a thing now, right?”

“We are dating.”

“You don’t have to worry about me saying anything Dr. Baker!  You’re seem so tense about this conversation.”

Okay, did I say that Jillian was my favorite intern?  I may have to revise that opinion.  I’m almost one hundred percent sure that the contents of this conversation are going to be shared at the intern lunch table in a few hours.

“So, why don’t you read up on the procedure we’re about to perform, instead of trying to unravel gossip?  I really need you to be on you’re A-game, because this is my first time performing this particular surgery.”

“Really?  You should have Dr. Graham scrub in then.  She’s done it before.”

Is everyone in this entire hospital Team Fatima?  They don’t know anything about how shady she is, but they all seem to be enchanted by her.  I wonder if they’d feel the same way if they knew how big of a snake she is!

“I feel confident that we will do a great job and save Stephanie from any additional complications,” I reply.  “I will ask you what you’ve learned about this procedure at scrub in.”

“Sir, yes sir!” Jillian says as she salutes me.

I guess I do sound kind of official.  I don’t want
her to think I’m angry or anything like that, because that will just fuel the rumors.

“We’re saving lives, remember?”  I say this in a softer, friendlier tone.

Jillian seems to relax.  “You’re right.  I’m going to study up on it.”

Lucas leans on the nurse station grinning at me, and Jillian scurries away as if she’s interrupting something.

“I didn’t see you walk up, babe.  What’s up?” I say.

“I got a text from you that I need an all-white outfit.  What’s that about?”

“My sister’s baby shower is on New Year’s Eve.  We have to wear all white.”

“So, we’re going to a baby shower for New Year’s?”

How do I describe one of Dionne’s parties to Lucas?  “It’ll be like the club.  Better than the club.  They will have a hot DJ, celebrities, and a dance floor.”

“Oh, because I heard baby shower, and I thought about games, veggie trays, cupcakes and diapers,” Lucas says with a chuckle.

I giggle.  “You sound like you’ve been to a lot of baby showers.”

“I’ve been to a few, and I never went willingly.”

“Well, I want you to want to go to this one!  It will be fun.”

“I don’t know.  I just envisioned us having a wonderful dinner, and toasting the New Year in our beautiful hotel suite with a single glass of champagne.”

“Sounds so romantic, babe!  But, my sister will kill me if we don’t show up at her baby shower!”

Lucas steps closer to me and kisses me on the cheek.  “If I go, you’re going to owe me.  I get to decide how I want to cash it in.”

“Um no!” I squirm away from him and giggle.

Lucas’s pager goes off and he reads it and frowns. 
“Jewel is running a fever.  I was afraid of her developing an infection.  Her injection sites were red and inflamed before the emergency surgery, so we had to start her on broad spectrum antibiotics.”

“So, did you and Fatima take the silicone out yet?”

“No.  I was waiting to see if she’d be okay after the brain surgery.  It looks like your surgery will be first.”

“Oh, okay.  Did you know that Fatima is telling the interns that the two of you used to date?”

“She is?  We never dated.  We only…uh…”

“I know what you did.  Why would she want them to think that you guys dated?  That’s just weird.”

“Maybe they heard her wrong.  Maybe she didn’t say that at all.”

“I don’t Jillian made that up.  Are you taking up for her, Lucas?”

He shakes his head.  “Absolutely not.  I just don’t want you confronting her over a rumor.”

“Why do you think I would confront her?  I don’t have to do that.
  I’m not that kind of girl.”

“Okay.  I’m glad, because I wasn’t lying when I said it was all about you.”

“I know, babe.  So your all white outfit?”

“I will pull something together.  Anything for Dionne and Rod.”

I shake my head and laugh.  “You sound so enthusiastic about this.”

“I am!”

Fatima walks past us and waves.  When neither one of us waves back, she stops.  “Y’all can’t speak?”

Lucas clears his throat and chuckles.  “Have you been telling people that we dated back in the day?”

Fatima’s head jerks back as if Lucas slapped her. 

“
I may have mentioned briefly that we used to see each other.  Some of the interns have a big crush on you.”

“If my memory serves me correctly,” Lucas says, “we didn’t date.  We just hooked up.”

“Multiple times,” Fatima says.

“But you weren’t my girlfriend.  I guess if you want to consider getting some Taco Bell after having sex as dating, then maybe.”

I turn my back to Fatima and pretend to read the surgical board, because I feel laughter coming on real soon.

“So you’re trying to show off in front of your girlfriend?  Trying to make her feel better about what happened back at Emory?”

“Nope.  I’ve already apologized for that, and she’s forgiven me,” Lucas says.  “I just didn’t want you to be confused.”

“I’m not confused at all.  We both know what went down back in the day.  It was just small talk, nothing serious,” Fatima says.

“Well, I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t talk about that too much.  It’s a little unprofessional.”

Fatima laughs.  “Look at you, the perfect boyfriend.
  Apparently, you’ve changed.”

I spin on one heel, ready to give her a piece of my mind, but she’s already
walking down the hallway. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Lucas says. 

As much as I’m excited that Lucas did all of the talking and totally shut Fatima down, I can’t help but be concerned.  I do believe that Lucas is a different man than he was in college, but if he isn’t…if he hasn’t changed for the better, I won’t find out until my heart is on the line again.  And Fatima being here still checking for Lucas, is sure to put our rekindled love to the test.