Page 31 of Happy Is On Hiatus
“Because he was cheating on me and got another woman pregnant,” Rita countered, bringing the tension at the table to a fever pitch.
“Hey, y’all!” Sharae had never been happier to see Jemel prancing over to the table, waving like she hadn’t just seen them forty-five minutes ago.
Marc walked beside her, holding her hand and grinning just like Jemel. They really did make a cute couple. If they could actually get their act together long enough to remain one, it would be cool. At least, Sharae figured that was the way it should be. Relationships weren’t her thing, so knowing who should be together and who shouldn’t didn’t come as easily to her as it did the Aunts.
In the next moments, Marc was embracing each aunt, and Sharae watched the older women hug and kiss him. Each congratulating him and wishing him well as if they hadn’t just been talking about the woman this man loved and her tardiness.
“Girl, you came right on time,” Sharae said to Jemel, who was standing at the end of the table where she and Rita sat. “They were just starting to go in on Rita about the divorce.”
“No,” Rita said and rolled her eyes. “They were just critiquing my parenting skills.”
Jemel glanced at Sharae, and Sharae gave a quick, short shake of her head, warning her to not go there right now.
“Well, this party is lookin’ dry,” Jemel said. “Let me go over there and tell the DJ to play something jumpin’.”
And that was just what Jemel did. The next song that came on was the “Cupid Shuffle,” and in true Black-cookout fashion, just about everybody got up from their seats and formed a couple of lines in the grass to dance every step to the song. By the time Sharae, Rita, and Jemel returned to the table, the Aunts had found another subject to dissect, and the afternoon progressed without any further family discussions.
That worked out well for Rita, who looked tired but continued to smile and chat with whoever came by their table. Jemel was in her element, beaming with pride as Marc and The Squad finally took to the stage to sing one of their early ballads and then standing by Marc’s side as he was interviewed by reporters. It was moments like this that Sharae felt a little left out. She wasn’t the socialite, nor had she ever wanted to be the center of attention. All she’d ever aspired to be was a cop, but today, she wondered if that was really enough. If the life she’d created for herself had somehow become a box she didn’t know how to break out of.
Where those thoughts came from she had no idea. Perhaps because Sanford was dead. The man she’d blamed for all her unhappiness growing up was gone, so now whose fault was it that this feeling of discontent had suddenly crept up on her? She didn’t have any answers, nor did she feel like hunting through her mind to find them. Instead, she went to Rita’s second stash situated under the table, grabbed a wine cooler, and stood by herself drinking and swaying to the nostalgic sound of rhythm and blues on a balmy summer’s night.
Chapter 13
A NEWDAY.
“That sleazy, no-good bastard!” Jemel picked up, then punched, one of the throw pillows on the beige sectional in Rita’s living room. She’d been sitting at one end, her legs tucked under her, white-painted toenails winking at the world. Now she clenched the pillow between her hands like she was strangling it ... or someone.
From the other side, with her legs stretched out along the extended end of the furniture, Sharae shook her head. “I’m not even surprised. When you’re already considered dirt, there’s nothing you can do to take you any lower.”
Rita sat comfortably with her hands resting on the wide arms of the chair across from them. One leg was crossed over the other, comfortable fluffy purple socks on her feet. “I’m over it,” she said, her even tone depicting the peace she’d come to feel about the situation. “And I sold every piece of jewelry he ever gave me.”
Sharae’s eyes widened. “All of it?” She waited a beat. “Even that ruby-and-diamond necklace-earring set you hated wearing because you thought it was gaudy and over the top?”
With a slow nod, Rita said, “That twenty-two-thousand-dollar perfectly ugly ruby-and-diamond necklace-and-earring set.”
“That’s right! Get your money!” Jemel added. “But you still need to get back half of what that asshole took out of those accounts.”
“My lawyer’s taking care of that,” she told them. “I considered emptying the second joint savings account but decided playing tit for tat wouldn’t make me any better than him.”
Jemel shook her head. “You always taking that high road, I swear. I would’ve taken every penny out of any other accounts left with both our names on them.”
Why didn’t that response shock her? Rita chuckled as Sharae shrugged. “I don’t really see nothin’ wrong with that. I mean, it’s only fair.”
“My lawyer said she’ll get it all back and then some. I’m trusting her to do that,” Rita told them. Clearing her throat, she prepared to tell them the real reason she’d invited them over here on a Sunday afternoon. “I also had some money of my own that I’ve been saving for the past few years or so.” Six years, to be exact. When she’d looked at the account with only her name on it with more detail, she saw that every catering job she’d been paid for in the last six years, she’d deposited the checks into that account and hadn’t thought about them again. Over time, that money had gained considerable interest.
“Oh no, Miss Prim and Proper wasn’t keeping a secret stash from her husband.” The smile on Jemel’s face said she totally approved if that were the case, which it was not.
“Nate knew I’d started getting paid for the jobs that I did outside the church and the dealership. In fact, he and I had discussed what I should charge when the school board asked me to cater their appreciation dinner.” They’d gone to dinner down at Little Italy that night, and he’d told her she should definitely start charging for her time and services. He’d even told her to contact their business attorney to get a contract drawn up that she could use for future clients. Funny how the good moments with Nate were much harder to remember now than the bad ones.
“And last year, he’d decided I would start being paid by the dealership to plan and cater the holiday party each year.”
“But you didn’t put that money in your joint account?” Sharae let the question linger in the air even though Rita was certain she wanted to say something else.
“No, I didn’t,” she replied. “And you know what? I don’t know why I didn’t.” Rita had believed her marriage was a partnership and that whatever she had, Nate had also and vice versa. For years she’d listened to Aunt Rose go on and on about being independent, owning her house and having her own money. It was no family secret that her aunt loved men—loved sleeping with them and using them for whatever else she wanted at the time—but never kept one longer than it took to get what she could from him.
Aunt Rose’s stance was that she could take care of herself and would only tolerate a man if he was bringing something extra to the table. From what Rita could remember, Aunt Rose never lacked for a man in her life, regardless of those terms. What her aunt also never experienced, as far as Rita could tell, was a broken heart.
“I guess deep down you always knew you’d need a safety net,” Sharae was saying, snapping Rita from her thoughts.
