Nina's Got a Secret (2 page)

While sitting next to Deidra's bed during the course of the three weeks, Larry actually started anticipating the sniffs. He monitored the sniffs so closely that he could tell when Deidra's time was running out because the sniffs starting coming quicker. The shorter time between sniffs was an indication of how difficult it had become for her to breathe.

While he sat slouched in the chair next to her bed sobbing uncontrollably, Larry attempted to dry his eyes once he noticed that the sniffs he'd grown to anticipate suddenly stopped. There was no sound. The room grew cold. His wife's vein-covered, frigid hand was now lifeless. Deidra was gone. Larry was now a widower.

Two Thousand Miles Away On That Same Day . . .

N
EW
O
RLEANS
, LA

J
UNE
14, 2000 – 10:12
P.M
.

N
ina sat on the battered hardwood floor of her mouse-infested, one-bedroom “shotgun” house and clipped coupons. She looked like a little Native American girl as she sat with her legs crossed and her wavy black hair pulled back into one long braid.

Nina took great pride in her coupon collection. She could be a perfectionist at times, and it showed in the way she carefully cut along the dotted lines of the coupons she chose. Afterward, she would painstakingly separate the old from the new, the cereals from the drinks, and the 20% off coupons from the 10% off coupons. NASA scientists didn't display this type of attention to detail.

Although she focused hard on her task, she kept a watchful eye on her ten-month-old daughter, Precious, who lay sleeping on a blanket a few feet away. The child had just dozed off, so Nina was careful not to make any sudden moves that would startle her light-sleeping and overly-observant infant.

The beat-up 20-inch television was positioned a few feet in front of her on a rickety, particle-board stand. Nina was able to ignore the distorted picture because the television's primary
purpose was to serve as a source of light for the room. Nina had learned to not rely on the television for entertainment because the picture was extremely snowy and the remote control was missing buttons, making it impossible to change the channels.

With the television permanently set on Channel 4, Nina focused on her coupons and occasionally glanced at the local news. She didn't pay much attention to the news report until she heard the reporter announce,
“Two African-American males found shot to death in a drive-by shooting that appeared to be drug-related.”

Nina allowed the old rusty scissors she was using to rest for a moment as she squinted to try to see the reporter on the ashy screen. She inched closer to the screen to get a better view of the live broadcast. Suddenly, the ash on the screen gave way just long enough for her to notice that the bullet-riddled car in the background behind the news reporter looked a lot like the car Flip, her child's father, drove.

As angst started to invade her senses, Nina applied the universal hood technical support strategy to the television to fix the picture. She smacked the television a few times on the side and shook it until the picture started to show better. Much to her chagrin, the clearer the picture became, the deeper she would plummet in the porthole to a pain she would never shake.

Nina placed her hands over her mouth and stumbled backward as the reporter announced the name of the victims.
“Bystanders identified one of the victims as twenty-one-year-old Donald ‘Flip' LeBlanc.”

The coupons that Nina had carefully stacked in three separate piles were stepped on and now scattered all over the floor as Nina wandered aimlessly in the tiny room. Her need for physical support prompted Nina to immediately pick Precious up and squeeze her tightly. She hugged the child until she awakened. Unaware that her father had just been murdered, Precious did
what any startled baby would do after being awakened from a sound sleep: she started crying.

Nina stood there holding her child in the middle of the room and cried along with the baby. It was as if time stood still. They were all alone. Their bond as mother and daughter instantly magnified.

Before she could put Precious into the crib and turn the volume up on the television, Nina's phone started to ring excessively. Nina didn't bother to answer. The angst that invaded her body when she first saw the car on television had mutated into an emotional pain that was so heavy and hurtful it made her knees buckle.

Once Nina collapsed and fell to the floor, answering the phone was no longer an option. At that point, Nina didn't care. She knew that it would be her so-called friends notifying her of what she already knew: the love of her life was dead.

M
AY
14, 2008

D
espite all of the hoopla surrounding a wedding day, more often than not, the people jumping the broom usually have less fun than the curious guests attending the ceremony. When it's your wedding day, glee and unbridled joy is often replaced with tension. The type of smile that's customary for such a festive occasion is stored away until after the ceremony. Even the poise needed to embrace last-minute snafus and unexpected occurrences is usually lost and nowhere to be found.

The church where Larry and Nina gathered for their nuptials was impressive. The Mercedes limousine that was parked outside waiting to whisk the new couple away was equally impressive. There was no shortage of guests there to see this odd union. But, all of the pomp and circumstance in the world can't hide a lack of sincerity from the primary participants. A fact Larry would be forced to come face-to-face with.

The thing that made the union between Larry Dennison and Nina Arceneaux so unique was that the roles were totally and unmistakably reversed. Traditionally, it's the woman who is irritable and difficult to get along with on the day of the wedding. It's the woman who is more concerned about the decorations and
whether the minister is on time. It's the woman who is wasting time badgering the wedding coordinator about the seating arrangements when she should be getting her hair primped. Stereotypical roles weren't to be in this union.

“Larry, you need to calm down, my brotha,” said Terry, Larry's best man.

“Man, I just want everything to be right. Do you have the ring?”

“For the fifth time, yes, I have the ring!”

“Okay. I just want this to be perfect. I really want this to be a special day for Nina.”

“Dog, just relax. I've already had the wedding coordinator double and triple check everything. All you need to do is get ready to grab your nuts, kiss your days as a bachelor goodbye, and marry that woman.”

Larry stared in the mirror and looked at his tuxedo once again. Sweat beads started to form as he struggled to pluck a pesky piece of lint off of his shoulder.

“Dog, are you absolutely sure you wanna do this?” Terry asked.

“Yep, so don't ask me that again.”

“All right, my brotha,” Terry said, as he stood behind the nervous groom and put his hands on his shoulders. “I just wanna make sure you got your head on straight. My instincts are tellin' me that this may not be a good move.”

“Trust me, dog, my head is on as straight as it's ever been,” Larry replied, opting to look at Terry through the mirror rather than turn around. “Nina and I are meant to be together. We are in love with each other. We get along great, and I love her daughter like she was my own. She supports me and my career; and the fact that she is finer than Beyoncé doesn't hurt.

“I am ready to marry this woman. Now, can you stop being a detective long enough to be happy for me and be my best man?”

“I can respect that,” Terry replied. “I'm not a police detective today. I'm just your boy.”

“I hope you got your head on straight,” said a burly female voice. It was Larry's sister, Barbara.

She walked into the room wearing a blue sequined dress, matching hat, and a frown on her face. By the way she was frowning and squinting, you would have thought she'd just eaten an onion and washed it down with a glass of prune juice.

The scowl lines that resided on her forehead stretched and curved until they made their way down to the space between her eyebrows. There was no mistaking her feelings regarding the nuptials that would soon take place.

Rarely did anyone pay much attention to Barbara because her temperament was usually unpleasant. Her nickname should have been
Bad Mood
. One of Larry's friends once described her as the mean high school vice principal that roamed the hallways pissed off at all the students because she got passed over once again for a principal position.

Larry rolled his eyes when he saw Barbara come into the room. Her negativity was the one thing he didn't want to deal with on his wedding day. He instinctively knew that the only way he could avoid allowing her sour mood to taint this special day was to make sure she remained occupied at all times.

“Barb, don't start messin' with me.”

“I didn't say a thing.”

“You don't have to say anything; it's written all over your face.”

“I don't know what you're talkin' 'bout,” Barbara replied as she used her long nails to remove that elusive piece of lint Larry was battling. “So tell me, baby brother, is Ms. Nina going to take on your last name?”

“I told you last week what the plan was. She doesn't have any
brothers to carry on her family name. Besides, she doesn't want her daughter to have to grow up answering questions about having a different last name than her mother.”

“So, what you're saying is she's going to be one of these women that put the hyphen between their maiden and their married name.”

“Yes, Barbara! That's what I'm saying. Now leave it alone.”

“Man, I'm tellin' you now, when I get married, the only way my wife will be keeping her maiden name is if she's some kind of movie star or celebrity and she makes money off of her maiden name. If that's not the case, she's ridin' with me 100 percent,” Terry said.

“Hello!” Barbara shouted.

“Leave it alone,” Larry said with a growl as he glared over at Terry.

“All right,” Terry replied. “I'ma go and see what's happening out there.”

“You should follow him, Barbara.”

“I'd prefer to stay here and help you.”

“Sis, I don't need your help. If you wanna help me, go and check on Nina. I know she's probably nervous. She doesn't have a ton of relatives and friends here to support her.”

“She has her bridesmaids.”

“I know that, but it would mean a lot to me if you went over and offered to help her. Do that for me, Barb.”

Barbara sighed and rolled her eyes. She wasn't Nina's biggest fan, and she wasn't shy about letting her brother know it. As far as she was concerned, Nina may have been a lot of things, but good enough for her brother wasn't one of them.

She kissed Larry on the cheek and then slapped him upside the head as she reluctantly left the room and headed over to Nina's dressing room.

I
T WAS
N
INA
'
S WEDDING DAY
, but you wouldn't have known it by the somber look on her face. Nina was the type of self-centered diva who would spend three months coordinating the outfit she was going to wear to her eight-year-old daughter's birthday party. Considering the size of her ego, her lack of excitement about her own wedding was a clear sign to her best friend, Val, that Nina didn't really want to go through with this ceremony.

“Nina, are you sure you want to do this?”

“Val, that's the third time you've asked me that today.”

“And I'm gonna keep asking you until you give me an honest answer,” Val replied as she sat in the high back chair in the corner of the room. “Nina, you don't have to marry this man.”

“I know that.”

“So why are you doing this?”

“Why do you think I'm going to marry him?”

“I don't know. He is shorter than you.”

“What does his height have to do with this?”

“Nina, you know damn well you ain't lookin' forward to being the tallest nigga in the bed. Besides, you've already admitted that you aren't physically attracted to him and you don't love him. He's nearly ten years older than you. You've already admitted that he's got a little dick and he doesn't eat pussy. So, I can only conclude that you're about to marry this man because he has money.”

“Ahhh, excuse me, have you forgotten that we are in a church?”

“My bad,” Val sheepishly replied.

“The money doesn't hurt. My child and I can use the financial stability.”

“Nina, that doesn't make any damn sense!” Val blurted out, forgetting to censor her language in the church. “You were the most attractive dancer in that club. You used to make more money than most of us combined. You don't need his money.”