The Perfect Mistress (26 page)

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Authors: ReShonda Tate Billingsley

BOOK: The Perfect Mistress
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Joyce folded her arms and poked her lips out, upset.

“So if we can get started . . .” Dr. Lawson ignored Joyce's temper tantrum. “Please sit,” she told Lauren.

Lauren plopped down in the seat at the end of the table, across from her mother.

“So. Who's going to begin?” Dr. Lawson said, taking out her notepad.

No one said a word. Finally, Julian spoke up. “My mother and my sister need help.”

“I don't need help. I'm fine,” Lauren said. She didn't understand why her brother had excluded himself from the equation like he was Mr. Perfect.

“Their relationship needs help. The doctors have said Mama's progression is worsening. So, I want this, as you said, addressed before it's too late.”

Joyce rolled her eyes.

The doctor nodded. “I agree. I've been trying to get your mother to see that. So we're going to start with you, Joyce. Why are you so mad at your daughter?” she asked point-blank.

A heavy silence filled the air as Joyce glared at Lauren.

“Why don't you ask her why I'm so mad? She didn't just cosign his cheating. She helped take him away from me for good.”

Lauren's hard glare bore into her mother.

This was a conversation that Lauren had been dreading for years. And if there was any way she could have gotten out of it, she would have. But when she saw the disdain pouring from her mother, she knew that it was time. No, it was
past
time.

She turned to the doctor. “You know what? Let's lay it all out, because I'm tired. You want to know the truth? Well, sit back as I tell you how my father died, because you're in for a ride.”

Lauren didn't realize that she was crying until Julian handed her a box of tissues.

She looked across the table at her mother, who was trembling. Surprisingly, she'd kept her tears at bay.

This was the first time Lauren had ever recounted the complete story of the night her father died. Naturally, that night Lauren had called 911. She'd been too afraid to call her mother. Of course, the police called her mother, who showed up just as they were loading her father's body into the county medical examiner's hearse. Her mother had been devastated. Lauren had tried to console her, to deliver her father's dying words about apologizing, but that had only sent Joyce into a rage. So, she'd never talked about that night again.

Until now.

Dr. Lawson finally asked, “Joyce, do you have anything to say?”

Lauren braced herself for her mother's scathing remarks, but her mother just shook her head.

Even Julian was shell-shocked. He had never heard all the details, either. No one had. Lauren didn't know what had made her open up today. She thought it would make her feel better. Instead, the sordid tale made her feel worse than ever.

H
er daughter's tears should have moved her, but they didn't. They only angered Joyce even more. Lauren's retelling of the worst night of Joyce's life reminded her of her daughter's betrayal.

“He was coming home and Callie got mad.”

Lauren had told her those words that night, but Joyce had been too distraught to process them. But when the realization set in, she realized that Vernon had chosen her. Her husband was coming home. And that woman had stopped him. And Lauren had helped her.

Yes, Lauren had betrayed her in the worst possible way. She'd betrayed Joyce by giving Vernon those keys. If she hadn't, he would never have left that day and maybe they would've worked through their difficulty like they always did. But she had, and he left and moved in with that scuzzy whore, who ultimately took his life.

Julian instinctively reached to take his mother's hand. Joyce glared at her daughter and didn't realize she was crying until a tear dropped into her lap.

Silence continued to fill the room until the doctor repeated herself: “Joyce, do you want to respond?”

She didn't say a word. She
couldn't
say a word.

“She doesn't need to reply. She has always made her feelings clear,” Lauren said.

The indignation in her voice rubbed Joyce the wrong way. “How would you suggest I feel?” she asked her daughter. Julian squeezed her tighter, no doubt trying to keep her from getting upset. But it was too late. In fact, she'd never stopped being upset.

“You don't have any children. But one day you will. One day you will labor, have your body distorted trying to bring a child into this world. You will bend over backward to give her the world, and after loving her from the bottom of your soul, she will turn around and stab you in the back. When that happens to you, then maybe you can tell me how I'm supposed to feel. But until you've experienced your flesh and blood betray you—”

“I was a child!” Lauren screamed, cutting her off. “A damn child! How long are you going to punish me?”

“Okay, let's keep our voices down,” the therapist said.

Lauren threw her hands up as she stood. “No, you know what? I'm done. All I wanted was my parents to get along. All I wanted was my daddy's love
and
my mother's love. I didn't want to be in the middle of any marital drama. I didn't want to be there when my daddy died. I just wanted a piece of fictional happiness and not the dysfunctional reality I lived in daily.”

“Maybe if you had told him to come home, he would have, since you were his little princess,” Joyce said sarcastically.
“It was bad enough that you stole his heart from me, but then you turned around and watched him give it to other women.”

Lauren stared at her mother like she was crazy. “Are
you freaking for real?” Her voice lowered, her words shook. “Mama, you were absent. You lay in bed all day long. Don't you remember you couldn't ever get out of bed?”

“You replaced me with his whores.”

“You wallowed in your place of despair. You left me at the age of fifteen to fend for myself.”

They were interrupted when the therapist said, “Joyce, do you think there's some validity to her point?”

Of course she did. To an extent. She knew that in the beginning, her daughter didn't realize what she was doing. But as she got older and decided to keep the secrets, she was just as much to blame as Vernon.

Her silence prompted Dr. Lawson to continue. “That's a lot of weight for a child to carry.”

It didn't matter what anyone said, though. Joyce wanted the past to stay in the past. There was no changing it, so no need to revisit it.

“I feel woozy,” Joyce told Julian.

Lauren rolled her eyes. “Of course. Anytime she doesn't want to address something, she plays sick.”

Joyce kept her focus trained on her son. “I'm sorry, baby.” She stood, wobbled, and grabbed his arm. “If you want me to keep trying, I will, but this is too much.”

“Oh, give me a break,” Lauren huffed.

Julian's face, though, was blanketed with concern. “You know what? Maybe this is all too much. Maybe we should let her rest.”

“Fine. I'm out of here.” Lauren grabbed her purse and marched toward the door.

“Lauren, wait,” Julian called out after her.

Lauren spun around. “No. You got it handled. This is what she wants anyway. Her precious prince is here, and that's all that matters. So, Julian, you stay here and you handle her.” She glared at her mother. “Because I'm done. For good.”

Then she stormed out of the room.
God forgive me,
Joyce thought, but she finally felt a sense of relief.

I
t was obvious that any love her mother had for her was gone. Lauren needed to face that and stop trying to force a relationship between them.

But even as she vowed to never make this trek up I-40 again, the tears wouldn't stop coming.

The tears blinded Lauren as she sped down the freeway. She'd managed to keep them at bay until she pulled out of the parking lot, but then a wave swept over her. She cried for her father and her relationship with her mother, which today, she finally realized, could never be repaired.

The funny thing is, if Lauren had to do it all over again, she didn't know if she would do anything differently. Because she had been, after all, just a child.

Her ringing phone snapped her out of her thoughts. Vivian's name appeared on her caller ID. She almost didn't answer, but maybe Vivian could take her mind off what had just happened.

“Hey, girl.” Vivian's voice chirped through the phone. “What's going on?”

Lauren let out a heavy sigh. “Nothing. Just leaving the rehab facility.”

“Are you okay?”

“I'm all right. Just had a horrible visit with my mother. But I don't want to talk about it.”

“Oh. I'm sorry to hear that. Well, let's talk about something on a lighter note. Like your date with Thomas the other night,” Vivian said.

That caused Lauren to stiffen her grip on the steering wheel. “That would definitely not be a lighter note. His wife showed up.”

“What?” Vivian said. “Crazy Teresa and you're still living to talk about it?”

“I know, right?” Lauren replied. “I'm just . . . I'm just tired. I'm tired of all this. I'm tired of my mom. I'm tired of these guys. I just want . . .” Her voice trailed off.

“You want Matthew.” Vivian finished for her.

“You know, you're right. What's wrong with me? Why am I thinking about him so much?”

“Because, like I told you,” Vivian replied, “all that playing the field gets old. And you need to get out before you run up on the wrong chick. There's nothing like a woman scorned.”

“Yeah, I know, although I'm not worried about any of these women. They don't need to be mad at me because I'll do what they won't. Plus, I didn't make vows, their husbands did.”

Lauren couldn't be sure, but she thought she heard a sharp inhale.

“How's that working out for you?” Vivian said. “Yeah, you know how to be the perfect mistress to these guys. They love that. But do you love yourself? Because if you do, I can't believe you want this as your future.”

Any other time Lauren would've said something, but
Vivian was speaking some hard truths. She'd never had an issue with what she did, never even felt the least bit guilty about it. Now, not only was guilt setting in, but so was regret, and a host of other emotions.

But at this point, did it even matter? With all the dirt she had done, could a woman like her ever find redemption? Could she find the happiness that she'd convinced herself she didn't want?

“Yeah, since you got all quiet, I'm gonna let you go,” Vivian said. “You don't want to admit it, but if you think about it, you know I'm right. I'll talk to you later.”

Vivian hung the phone up without saying good-bye.

Her words were still weighing heavily on Lauren as she exited the freeway. The sound of a honking horn jolted her out of her thoughts.

Lauren looked to her left at a man in a Lamborghini, honking as he tried to get her attention. She noticed the wedding band as he motioned for her to pull over to the side. Any other time, the hot yellow Lambo would have been all she needed. But Lauren was tired. What she needed now . . . what she would love to do now was not meet another rich man—a married man. What she needed was to go home and snuggle in the arms of Matthew King.

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