The Side Effects of You (8 page)

“Look, I
am
happy. Just because I didn't do a handstand or a cartwheel when I said it doesn't mean I'm not happy.”

“Okay, let me rephrase this. Does he make you happy? Happy is a state of mind, so you could be happy with Andrea. But does
your husband
make you happy?”

I looked away. I hadn't been happy with him for a very long time. Yes, I was a happy person because of my salon, my kids, my beautiful home, and my family and friends, but Jeremiah hadn't done a thing in over two years to make me happy.

In a whisper, I lied. “Yes.”

“Okay.”

That was it, although he said okay like he didn't believe me. I didn't care.

“Tell me about you and your marriage, Quentin. Are
you
happy?” I wanted to get caught up with him since he was so caught up on me.

“I'm divorced. Been divorced for four and a half months, and no, she wasn't making me happy. We both became so consumed with work and image that we stayed in a loveless marriage for over three years. One day I came home to my huge five-bedroom house and decided I didn't want that kind of marriage anymore. It was too much space for me and the woman who lived there with me, not sharing it with me. I mean, it stayed spotless . . . always clean and organized, almost sterile. Can you imagine living in a home where you sat at the table together only at the holidays?

“Just imagine coming home to takeout or a quick microwavable dinner and then going up to bed with your spouse, who has files everywhere, so you have to go lie down in the guest room. Imagine planning a romantic night, but then you get a text saying, ‘So sorry, babe. I can't make it.' Andrea, it got so bad that I said for seven days I wasn't going to say a word to her. I was going to see if she noticed. And you know what? She didn't. I was alone in my marriage. Awesome career, hefty bank account, a couple of fancy cars, but in a loveless marriage. When I filed for the divorce, all she said was, ‘Okay. It is what it is.'”

He chuckled. He was about to continue, but just then the server brought our drinks. We ordered a couple of finger foods, and then he dove back in.

“Scheduling sex, frowning when I touched her, changing the subject when I wanted to talk about it got old.” He sipped his drink. “I told myself over and over that Andrea would have loved me, taken care of me, and cooked for me. Even if the mean was burnt or a disaster, she would have tried, just to make me happy. I let the best thing I ever had go. And the baby, that is an even bigger regret.”

Both of our eyes welled up. I hopped up. “Ladies' room.” I dashed off.

How dare he do that to me? Give me that sob story of how she treated him
, I told myself as I stepped into the ladies' room and walked over to sink. Still, I wanted to beat the snot out of her for hurting him. Quentin was one of the good ones. To have him was an honor.

“Stop it, Andrea,” I said to myself in the mirror. Why was his story so freaking similar to mine? Why did his spouse treat him just as horribly as Jeremiah treated me? Hell, even worse. At least Jeremiah had a scripture or two to hit me with each day to make me feel like I was the evildoer in the marriage.

And then Quentin brought us up. And the baby. I had to get the hell out of there.

“Okay, finish your drink and go home,” I told my reflection.

When I got back to the table, our appetizers were there. Then the server came over with another glass of wine for me.

“I didn't order that,” I said, looking at the wine.

“I did,” Quentin said. “I know you said one drink, but I miss your company, Andrea.” He stared at me for a moment, then looked up at the server and gave her a nod. She set the glass down in front of me and walked away.

I wanted to refuse it, but what the hell? Since I didn't have work the next morning, and since Jeremiah was still gone on his men's retreat, I accepted it. I would just miss the first service at church in the morning. Truth was, I had missed Quentin too, and for some reason, I didn't feel bad being out with him. After all, my marriage was over. So I continued to play catch-up with him. I learned he was a campus recruiter for Chicago State University. I had no idea what that meant, so he happily explained it to me.

We talked until closing, and after he walked me to my car, I didn't stop him when he kissed my lips softly.

“Go home with me, Andrea. Let me be with you tonight, and afterward, if you want nothing else, I promise I won't bother you again.”

Back off, Satan
, I said to myself.

“I want to, Q. I do. But I can't have that on my conscience. Two wrongs never make it right.”

“I know, Drea, but you deserve to be loved, held, and showered with affection. He hasn't touched you in over two years. I know how it feels to have a desire to be touched.”

True.
I hated that I had shared the entire truth about Jeremiah and me with Quentin.
Damn wine.

“I know you want to be touched,” he said. He caressed my cheek, and I grabbed his hand and kissed the back of it.

“I do, Quentin, but I'm not that kinda woman. Even though I'm miserable, I can't break that vow. God doesn't excuse misconduct because we feel some type of way. You just walked back into my life. I don't want us to make things messy by jumping into this physical trap.”

“You're right, and I'm sorry for crossing any lines with you. I respect you, but I won't lie. I'm still attracted to you, and I really would like another chance to be with you. I'm a patient man. I'll wait for you. I'll dance to the beat of your drum. Just know, with me, it's not a physical trap. I want more than that.”

“Thank you, Quentin. I should be going.” I reached for my car door.

“Your welcome.”

“Good night, Quentin.”

“Good night,” he said one last time. He shut my door, and I pressed the button to start my car.

“Dear Lord, please forgive me for lusting after Quentin. And more than that, forgive me for leaving Jeremiah. I'll be talking to a lawyer soon, so please, God, have mercy on me. In Jesus's name, amen.” I pulled out of the parking lot and headed home.

* * *

The next morning, I was awakened by the phone.
Man, I shouldn't have drunk last night
, I thought. I didn't feel like moving. It was the same mysterious number. This time, I answered quickly.

“Hello?”

“Mother Young?”

“Yes, this is she,” I said.

“This is Helen McCoy, Franklin's wife.”

“Yes, good morning, Sister Helen.”

“I wanted to know if we can meet to talk.”

“Sure. What's this about?”

“I'm not sure if it's wise to say what it is over the phone.”

My breath caught.
Oh boy, my worst nightmare. Jeremiah!

“What's going on, Helen? Did something happen to my husband?” I said in a panic. Jeremiah and Franklin were pretty tight, and I knew they were on the retreat together.

“No. Nothing like that.”

Relieved, I let the air escape from my lungs. “Okay, then, what else is there? It's okay to tell me over the phone.”

“No, I'd rather tell you this face-to-face. Can we meet after church this morning?”

“Sure, Sister Helen. Where would you like to meet?”

I got up from my bed. I was fully awake by now, and my heart was racing. This would be the first time I had to deal with any issues related to my husband and another woman. I knew that was the only other important thing she would want to say to me in person.

She gave me the name of a restaurant and its location, and for the first time in ten years, I didn't go to church. I showered, dressed, and was at the restaurant on time. I couldn't wait to hear what she had to say.

Monday rolled around quickly, and I was back at work. Ana had had to get a couple of stitches over her eye. When I'd asked her who had done this to her, she wouldn't say.

“Good morning,” a baritone voice said.

I looked up from the magazine I was browsing. It had been a slow morning, but I was posted behind the desk, instead of in my living room ogling the monitors. “Jayden, hey. I'm so sorry I didn't come back the other night. I had some issues with my baby girl and me. I—”

He stopped me. “Josie, it's okay. I think I came on a little too strong.”

“No, no, no. You are perfect. I just walked in to find my daughter's face all bruised up, and yesterday we spent, like, the entire afternoon in the ER. I'm really sorry.”

“Listen, I'm fine. I'm about to head out to the firm, but I wanted to know if you'd have dinner with me tonight.”

My heart stopped. He wanted to see me again, after I'd played a move on him the other night.

“Yes, yes, yes, of course. I'd love to.” I accepted his invitation with a bright smile on my face.

“Is seven good?”

“It's perfect.” I looked him up and down. He was the most handsome man who had ever asked me out.

“Good. And wear a dress. I want to check out your legs.” He winked. He gave me another warm smile and then exited the building.

A dress, huh?
He had to be planning to take me someplace nice. I quickly dialed Sam. It was early, and when she answered, I knew she was still sleeping.

In a groggy tone, she said, “Hello.”

“Sam, I'm sorry to wake you, but I really need to go to that salon you went to. Jayden wants to take me to dinner, and he said to wear a dress. I want this night to be perfect.”

“Josie, honey, it's Monday. There are no salons open on Monday.”

“You're kidding me, right?”

“Supercuts maybe, but no regular salons.”

“Oh my, my, my. Can you call Andrea? She's your friend. She'd make an exception for you, right?”

“Josie, I just met her a few weeks ago. We've hung out a few times, but I don't know. We are cool, but I don't feel comfortable asking for such a huge favor.”

“Oh, please. Oh, please, can you ask her? I have money saved up. I'm willing to pay whatever. She just may say yes. I'd ask her, but she knows you better, Sam, and I'm desperate. She made you look so beautiful, and I just don't want to walk out looking crazy. You can't trust just anybody with your hair, you know.”

“Okay. I'll call her, but don't get your hopes up.”

“I won't. Just try. This is, like, the first man that I've been out with since my sorry-ass excuse for a husband got locked down again. I just want tonight to be special, and I want to look good.”

“I'll see what I can do. I'll call you back.”

“Okay. Thank you so much, Sam.”

“Don't thank me yet,” she said. A couple of minutes after, Jayden texted me, asking where would we meet, and I said at Sammie's. I couldn't take the risk of one of my employees seeing us together.

Not wanting to make the call, I scrolled down my numbers on the screen of my cell phone, swiped Andrea's name, and waited for the call to connect.

“Good morning,” she answered.

“Good morning, Andrea. How are you?”

“I'm okay. How are you?”

She didn't sound okay to me, but we weren't good girlfriends, so I didn't pry.

“I'm good. Listen, I know you may say, ‘Hell, no,' to this question, but my friend Josie has a date tonight. She hasn't been out in decades, and she wants to get glammed up. Can you please perform the miracle on her that you performed on me?” I bit the corner of my lip, waiting for the “Hell, no.”

“Well, you know I'm not open on Mondays, but I need to get out of this house. If you can meet me at my salon, I'll take care of her.”

“You'd do that?”

“Yes, ma'am. I need a breather, and hair and makeup normally ease my mood. It helps me to relax my mind. Hair is my only escape, and I need it.”

“Okay. Thanks so much. I'll come with her. What time?”

“Well, my kids are in school and pretty much fend for themselves when they get in. What time is her date?”

“I'm not sure. Let me text her.”

“Go ahead.”

“Okay. Give me a second to see what she says.” I texted, and Andrea held on. While waiting for Josie to reply, I said, “Listen, Andrea, you don't sound like yourself. Do you want to talk? I mean, you can tell me to mind my business.”

“No, everything is not okay. And the cut is so fresh, I'm not ready to talk about it.”

“Okay, but I'm here,” I said. My phone alerted me that I had received a text. It was Josie. I read her text, then said, “She said seven.”

“Well, I think she should come at about two, if possible. She will be my only client, but I definitely don't want her to be late for her date.”

“Okay. I'll let her know. Again, Andrea, thanks so much. Josie is going to be thrilled.”

“I'm happy to help. By the way, how are things with you and Ethan? He seemed really nice.”

I sat up in my bed with a big smile. “Aw, Andrea, he is. He is
perfect
. Too bad I have to stop seeing him.”

“What? Why?”

“I . . . I . . . I,” I stuttered. I wanted to tell her, but I had never shared my secret with anyone.

“Listen, you don't have to give me the reason.”

“I know, Andrea. It's just baggage from my first marriage.”

“Say no more. I'll be divorced very soon.”

“Really? Is that why you need a breather?”

“Yep. Actually, I need a drink.”

“Well, you know you are welcome to come to my restaurant and get loaded.”

“I know,” she said. I heard her voice crack.

“Andrea, what did he do, honey?”

She sniffled and didn't say anything. I could tell she was crying.

“Okay, Josie will be there by two, and afterward, you and I can go for drinks. We don't have to go to my restaurant. We can hit a spot close to you.”

“Okay,” she replied, still crying.

“It's going to be okay, Andrea, trust me. Whatever it is, it's going to be okay.”

“I know,” she said through her cries.

“Okay. I'll see you soon.”

We hung up, and by then, I was definitely up. She had sounded terrible, and I wondered what had happened. Could her situation be worse than the situation I had been in with Charles?

I suddenly felt sad for her. I felt really bad for both of us. I didn't want to break up with Ethan, but I couldn't bear to tell him the truth.