The Perfect Mistress (7 page)

F
orsaking all others.

Joyce wasn't sure why that portion of her marriage vows flashed through her mind at this very moment. No, she knew exactly why. She needed the reminder as she stared at the six-foot-three, two-hundred-pound man who looked like Denzel Washington's little brother and was standing at her door.

“Hello, Mrs. Robinson,” he said. When she didn't respond he said, “It's me, Norman Martin.”

Norman was the man who had sold them their life insurance policy. But he'd been an overweight nerd with dreadlocks.

“Wow. Norman?” she said, still dumbfounded at what was nothing short of a total transformation.

“I know, quite different, right?” He flashed a smile. “It's amazing how death can make you reevaluate life.”

“That's right. You had . . .”

“A kidney transplant.” He patted the right side of his abdomen. “But now I'm like new and figured since I had a new lease on life, I needed to make the best of it. So, I got on a plan, lost the weight, cut the hair, and here I am back to work.”

“Wow, you look . . . you look . . .”

“I hope the word you're looking for is
good
.”

“Yes, yes.” She nodded. “
Good
is definitely the word.”

They stood in awkward silence for a minute, before he finally raised his briefcase.

“Your husband said it would be okay to stop by and go over the policy updates. Now that Julian is about to graduate, he wanted to boost your coverage.”

Joyce was lost in his beauty. She always thought Norman was cute, and he'd flirted with her from the first day she'd met him. But she'd never paid him any attention because she'd never been able to see past the weight. But now . . .

“Ah, yeah, he mentioned that,” she said, finally stepping to the side. “Please, come in.”

“Well, would you like to go in the dining room?” he said.

The bedroom would be better.
She almost gasped at the wicked thought that had raced through her mind.

Joyce had never so much as given another man a second look. But after that woman showed up at church last week, maybe Joyce needed to give Vernon a taste of his own medicine.

No!

She shook away the thought. She wasn't about to bed some other man to get back at her husband.

“Yes, we can go over everything in here,” she said, pointing toward the dining room.

Long after the paperwork was signed and put away, Joyce and Norman were still talking. She admired his new outlook. She'd heard about his kidney issues but had no idea that he'd gotten the transplant.

“Well, it's been so great catching up with you,” he said, glancing at his watch. “But I guess I'd better get going. Your husband probably won't think too kindly of me having spent all this time here with his beautiful wife.”

Joyce didn't want him to go. She didn't realize how starved for companionship she was. Oh, Vernon showed her attention, but the baggage that came with him outweighed a lot of his affectionate acts.

“No, my husband won't be in until late,” she found herself saying. “And the kids are at my sister-in-law's.”

“Yeah, I heard your husband works long hours,” Norman said. “He does a lot of pro bono stuff, right?”

His tone told Joyce that even he knew better. She shuddered at the thought of what people around town must be saying.

“Yeah, he does stay quite busy.”

“So, where does that leave you?” Norman asked pointedly. He had leaned in closer and it should've made Joyce uneasy, but a surge of excitement actually shot through her body.

“Well, it does get kind of lonely. I mean, I have the kids, but Lauren is always off with her dad and Julian is always with friends,” she said.

“What about you? You don't have friends?”

“I have a couple that I talk to occasionally. But”—she motioned around the house—“this is my life.”

“That's not good,” he said. “A fine woman like you, you should get out, dance, have a good time.”

“The only new people I meet show up at my door.”

That brought a smile to his face.

“Your husband has no idea the jewel he's neglecting.”

She wanted to ask him how he knew she was being
neglected. But maybe it was the way she was breathing so heavily, dang near panting as he scooted closer.

“I'm going to say something and if you want to slap me after I say it, I'll understand.”

She didn't say a word, fearful that if she opened her mouth, the wrong thing would come out.

“I have always admired you. Wanted you.” His voice was husky. His cologne penetrated her nostrils. His closeness sent her heart racing. “I would never disrespect you. But if you ever decide that what's good for the goose . . .” He slipped his card in her hand, letting his fingers linger inside hers. His lips moved close to her ear, as he whispered, “I would love to take you to ecstasy and beyond.” He leaned back, licked his lips, then stood. “I'd treat you like the queen that you are.”

He said that matter-of-factly. Like he knew all of Vernon's dirty little secrets.

“I will get these papers processed and everything should be good to go in three days. I will see myself out.”

Joyce still didn't say a word as he put a hand on her shoulder and gently squeezed. “I really do hope to hear from you soon.”

She couldn't move. She couldn't remember the last time a man had excited her so, and she didn't know if it was because she genuinely was attracted to Norman, or if she believed being with him would be the perfect revenge against Vernon.

“Why are you sitting in here in the dining room?”

Joyce hadn't even heard Vernon come in, but when she glanced at her watch, she realized that she'd been sitting for over an hour.

She stood. “Just sitting here, thinking.”

He sighed, like he knew what she was thinking about. “Look, Joyce. I told you, Cecile is just a—”

“Yeah, I know,” she said, cutting him off. “A client. They all are.”

She eased the business card into her pocket as she walked past her husband. No, cheating wasn't her nature. But if she wasn't going to leave just yet, she needed to find a way to cope, and maybe Norman would be that way.

T
he little piece of paper in her hand should've made her happy.

Should have.

But the way things had been going between her and Vernon, a baby was the last thing they needed. Julian had just graduated. Lauren was going into high school. Why in the world would she want to start over with a baby?

And then there was Norman.

After months of back-and-forth flirting, and more lies from Vernon, Joyce had made the decision to take him up on his ecstasy offer. Now she just needed to lose his number.

The baby changed everything.

Joyce tossed the beat-up piece of tissue she'd had crumpled in her hand, along with the piece of paper confirming that she was eight weeks pregnant, on the passenger seat and started her car. She'd been sitting forlornly in the parking lot of the doctor's office for the last hour, shedding tears at the news that she was about to be a mother again.

Joyce cried because at one time she'd wanted a houseful of kids. Five, to be exact. But if two made it hard to leave him, five would've made it impossible. So Joyce had religiously taken her birth control pills for years.

“Nothing is foolproof.”

The doctor had uttered those words with a smile. Probably because she thought the news she was giving Joyce was good. But it had taken everything in Joyce's power to not burst into tears right there in the doctor's office.

Joyce glanced over at the dashboard and saw it was two o'clock. Her mother should just be wrapping up her soaps and her father wouldn't yet be at home. She needed to talk to her mother.

Joyce made a U-turn and headed toward her parents' house.

Thirty minutes later, she was sitting in the living room of her childhood home with a cup of hot tea set in front of her.

“Okay, start talking,” her mother said, sliding into the seat across from her.

“How long before Daddy gets home?”

“He'll be here in about an hour,” she said. “I'll be glad when he retires at the end of this school year. Because he's getting more and more sickly. He doesn't need to be working so.”

Joyce often checked on her father, who seemed like he kept a case of bronchitis. But in typical male fashion, he refused to see a doctor or get treated.

“I know you didn't come over here to get an update on your father, so what's going on?”

“I just left the doctor.”

Her mother's hand went to her chest. “Is everything okay?”

“No,” Joyce said, burying her face in her hands. “It's not.”

“Oh my God.” Her mother jumped up, raced to her side, and immediately put her arms around Joyce. “What's wrong?”

“Mama, I'm pregnant,” Joyce whispered, barely looking up.

Her mother stiffened and took a step back. “What?”

“I'm pregnant,” Joyce cried.

Her mother smiled. “Chile, I thought something was really wrong.”

Joyce frowned. Of course her mother would react this way. “Are you serious? Something
is
wrong. I have two children almost out of the house and a husband that has given me grief since the day I said ‘I do' and now I'm about to start all over? What could possibly be right about that?”

A clouded expression filled her mother's face. “Well, you've always wanted a big family.”

“I gave that dream up a long time ago.”

“There is nothing wrong with you having another baby.”

“Mama, I was just waiting on Lauren to leave so I could leave.”

Her mother sighed. “And do what, Joyce? You've been a housewife for seventeen years. How much of a nest egg do you have stored away?”

“Nothing,” Joyce said resentfully.

“Exactly. So you're gonna leave and do what?”