Imitation of Wife Page 5
“Some steaks would be cool,” Tricia said.
Titus walked over and kissed her cheek. “Steaks it is.”
Tricia grabbed the remote and turned on the TV, which was just as big as the ones in the den and in Titus’s man cave. Turning to the Lifetime channel, she tried to relax, but couldn’t. She was still bothered. Tank had been surprised when he found out that she’d gone over to Peyton’s house. Titus, on the other hand, didn’t seem surprised at all.
Chapter 5
Janelle
Although she’d been in church, Janelle had no clue what the sermon had been about. She’d been too distracted by thoughts of Titus, who she’d seen briefly when he arrived to pick up Tank, and Sherrod, who’d been calling and texting nonstop. Both men had her mind in a mental whirlwind, and she couldn’t focus on anything Pastor Franklin had said. As the service ended, she hoped Aunt Connie wouldn’t ask her opinion about it.
“Hey, Janelle. It’s good to see you.”
Janelle turned around to see Willie Barnett smiling at her. “Good to see you too, Deacon,” Janelle said as she gave him a brief hug. He was a nice-looking, likable man in his late sixties. He was also very stylish and prided himself on being the best-dressed man in the congregation. Suits, ties, pocket squares, and snakeskin shoes with matching belts, Deacon Barnett stayed sharp. His Cadillac Eldorado was just as clean as his Sunday attire every week.
“Your aunt told me you brought her to service this morning. I offered to take her home, but she said y’all have some place to be.”
Lying to the deacon, especially while standing in the middle of the Lord’s house, wasn’t something Janelle felt comfortable doing, but she had to back up Aunt Connie’s story. “Yeah, we have a couple of errands to run.” Janelle nodded.
“I understand, I understand. Would’ve been nice to take her to lunch and on a nice drive, though. I keep inviting her out, but she keeps declining.”
Janelle saw the disappointment in his handsome face and felt sorry for him. “That sounds like it would’ve been nice, Deacon.”
“Maybe you can talk to her and suggest that she accept an invite one of these days.”
“I’ll try,” Janelle told him. “You know she’s a tough cookie to crack.”
“You got that right. But I’m determined to soften her up.” He winked and gave her another quick hug before rushing off.
Janelle walked out into the vestibule and spotted her aunt near the exit.
“What took you so long?” Aunt Connie asked. “You know I’m trying to get out of here before Loretta and the other women start talking me to death about joining some committee I don’t wanna join. I done tried to be polite and smile while waiting for you, but it can only last for so long.”
“Lord, Aunt Connie.” Janelle shook her head. “I’ll go get the car.”
“I can walk with you.” Aunt Connie slipped her coat on and followed Janelle out of the church. As they were getting into Janelle’s car, a horn honked. Deacon Barnett slowly drove by in his shiny Cadillac and waved. Janelle waved back, and Aunt Connie frowned.
“Aunt Connie, why are you so mean to him? He’s nice.”
“He’s aggravating, and he’s old,” Aunt Connie told her as she put on her seat belt.
“Old? Y’all are about the same age.”
“Exactly. Hell, I’m old too.”
“He really likes you. Don’t you want a nice friend to go out on dates with?” Janelle asked.
“Yes, but I don’t want an old one. Willie is gonna have to take his zoot-suit-and-shiny-shoe-wearing, funeral-car-driving, AARP ass and find someone else, because I am not the one.”
Janelle laughed. Aunt Connie was truly a character, and an entertaining one at that.
“Aunt Connie, how do you feel about coming and staying with me for a couple of days?”
“With you? For what?” Aunt Connie asked.
“I mean, I was just thinking with everything going on at Sylvia and Garry’s, maybe you wanted to get away while they figure everything out,” Janelle explained.
“Well, thanks for the offer, Nelle. That’s real nice of you, but I’m praying I’ll be getting back to my own house in a couple more days,” Aunt Connie told her. “They should be finished with the remodeling by the end of the week.”
“Okay, well, just so you know, if you ever wanna come and hang out with me at my place, you’re always welcome. It’s been kinda fun hanging out with you the past few weeks. We love you.”
“And I love y’all. Even though between you and your sister there’s more drama than one of those housewives shows on TV.” Aunt Connie sighed.
As she drove toward her sister’s house, Janelle couldn’t help thinking that, once again, her aunt was right: her life had more drama than a reality show.
* * *
“Syl, can I come in?” Janelle knocked on Sylvia’s door. She listened but didn’t hear anything, so she slowly turned the knob and opened the door. “Syl?”
“What do you want, Janelle?” Sylvia’s voice came from the sitting area of her bedroom.
Janelle walked in and saw her sister on the small love seat in front of the fireplace, typing on her laptop. A glass of wine sat on the coffee table in front of her, and soft jazz was playing. Had Janelle not known what had gone on over the course of the past twenty-four hours, she’d have thought that Sylvia was relaxed and enjoying a typical Sunday afternoon.
“I wanted to talk for a few,” Janelle told her, “and make sure you’re okay.”
“I’m fine,” Sylvia said, still typing, not even looking up.
“I also wanted to apologize for taking Peyton without telling you. That was dead-ass wrong, and I’m sorry.” Janelle eased over and sat on the opposite end of the love seat. Under normal circumstances, she would’ve picked up the glass and taken a sip. Lord knows she felt as if she needed a drink even more than she had earlier. Instead, she just promised herself plenty of mimosas later, once she’d made up with her sister. “I got caught up in being the cool aunt she felt comfortable talking to. You know how Peyton and I are. I love her like she’s my own child. But even with that, I was wrong. And I told Peyton that she was wrong for asking me to take her. So like I said, I’m sorry.”
“I’m fine, Nelle.” Sylvia glanced up, then went back to typing.
“You’re not fine, Syl. And no one expects you to be fine. Last night was crazy, and then this morning with Tricia. I mean, I’m sorry about that too. I feel like I got you in the middle of this, and you shouldn’t be.” Although technically it wasn’t her fault that Titus’s wife showed up at their house, Janelle still felt responsible somehow, and since she was already apologizing for the Peyton situation, she added it in for good measure. When Sylvia didn’t respond, Janelle reached over and closed the laptop.
“Stop it. What are you doing?” Sylvia whined.
“I’m trying to talk to you and say sorry. You’re being rude and not even listening.”
“I heard you.” Sylvia picked up the glass and sipped her wine.
“And?”
“And what?” Sylvia asked.
“Talk to me, Syl. Why are you being like this?”
“Being like what, Janelle? You said what you had to say, you gave your apology, I said everything’s fine. It’s whatever. Last night was a whole mess, but the girls are safe.”
“And Tank is home safe too,” Janelle volunteered, hoping hearing something positive would lighten the tension a little.
“I know. Tricia sent me a text and told me.”
Janelle frowned. “Why is she texting you? How did she even get your number?”
Sylvia placed her laptop on the coffee table next to her now-empty wineglass. “I gave it to her.”
“You what? Why would you do that?” Janelle couldn’t believe Sylvia.
“Because she was an emotional wreck because her son was missing, and I understood exactly how she felt because I felt the same way last night.” Sylvia rolled her eyes at her, then added, “W
ait, how did you know Tank was found?”
Janelle cleared her throat nervously as she prepared to answer the question. “Um, because I was the one who found him.”
“What? Where?” Sylvia gasped.
“At church. He showed up there, trying to surprise Peyton.”
“Church? You’re lying.”
“Nope. He was right in the parking lot. I called Titus, and he came and picked him up.”
“That’s crazy.” Sylvia shook her head. “At church of all places. His mother is probably going upside his head right now.”
For a second, Janelle thought about asking her details about Tricia, but she didn’t. She reminded herself of the same thing she had for years: there was no point in comparing, because she was his wife.
Instead, she changed the subject. “Speaking of church, did you know Deacon Barnett was tryin’a holla at Aunt Connie?”
“For months.” Sylvia finally laughed. “But she won’t budge. I don’t know why. He’s handsome, nice, and paid.”
“And he can dress and smells good,” Janelle added.
“He does smell good.” Sylvia nodded.
“I asked Aunt Connie if she wanted to come hang at my place for a few days.”
“Why would she do that? Did she say she wanted to leave?”
“No, she didn’t. I was trying to help, honestly.”
“Help who?” Sylvia frowned.
Janelle moved a little closer and stared into her sister’s face. “You. And I should’ve offered for her to stay a long time ago. You’ve been dealing with a lot, and I could’ve let her stay with me to lighten your load, at least a little.”
“Load? Aunt Connie? Girl, please, she may have a whole lot to say, but she’s a whole lot of help. She lightens my load. And quiet as it’s kept, I probably need to talk to her about moving in with us for good.” Sylvia sighed.
“Wait, what?” Janelle knew Sylvia didn’t mind her staying at their home every now and then, but she was shocked to hear her talk about making this a permanent situation.
“Yeah, after Garry moves out, I’m probably gonna need her to help.”
“So, you really are done, Syl?” Janelle asked, using the same term Garry had earlier.
“You seem surprised. You were there last night. Garry was a complete madman. I’ve never seen him act like that before. Did you recognize that man who attacked Sherrod? Hell, did you even know Garry knew Sherrod, or that he had been keeping Jordan from seeing Sherrod for weeks?” Sylvia asked, but before Janelle could answer, she continued. “Nope, and neither did I. It’s one secret after another. And honestly, I’m sick of being married to a man who thinks it’s fine to communicate with his wife on a need-to-know basis.”
“I’m sorry, Syl.”
“Don’t be. The last thing I need is people feeling sorry for me. I’m going to be fine.” Sylvia shrugged.
Janelle didn’t want to upset her sister, so she didn’t press the issue. She also figured now wasn’t the time to bring up the letter Sherrod told her about last night. Instead, she decided it was probably best to leave. She’d apologized, and Sylvia had forgiven her for the role she’d played in Peyton’s disappearance. Besides, she still had plans to meet up with Natalie for mimosas, even if they weren’t bottomless.
“I’ll call you later?” Janelle said as she stood.
“Sure.” Sylvia nodded.
Janelle went downstairs, pausing to check on Peyton before she left. “Hey, kiddo, you okay?” she asked as she walked into her niece’s room. Peyton was lying across the bed, her hands tucked under her chin, watching television.
Peyton sat up and said. “Yeah, I’m okay. Tank finally texted me. He’s fine. He thought I was gonna be at church this morning and was waiting there for me. That’s cute, huh?”
“It is.” Janelle nodded. “But he still should’ve let his parents know where he was. The same way you should’ve yesterday.”
“I know. He’s at a team meeting but says he has something important to ask me. You think he’s gonna propose?” Peyton smiled.
“You better pray to God he doesn’t.” Janelle laughed. “Your mom would kill him.”
“Is she still mad?”
Janelle gave her a look, letting her know she knew the answer to her own question. “Well, I’m gonna go ahead and get out of here.”
“Thanks, Aunt Nelle. I love you.”
Janelle had almost made it to her car when she heard someone calling her name. She turned around and saw Jordan running out of the front door toward her.
“Miss Janelle, wait!”
Janelle stopped and waved. “Hey, Jordan.”
“Hey,” Jordan said. “Here, please.”
Janelle looked at the cell phone Jordan was holding toward her. “Huh?”
“It’s for you.”
Janelle took the phone out of her hand. The caller ID read Pops. She hoped Garry wasn’t about to try to talk to her about Sylvia, because now wasn’t the time.
“Yeah?” she said into the phone.
“Janelle?”
“Sherrod?” Janelle sighed. She’d avoided him all day, but now with Jordan standing in front of her, she had no choice but to talk.
Chapter 6
Sylvia
When she heard someone knocking on her bedroom door, Sylvia didn’t move from where she was sitting. She figured Janelle would once again open the door and waltz in as she had earlier. Instead, the light tapping continued. Sylvia walked across her bedroom. “Nellie, stop playing and bring your ass in. I thought you were leaving.” She snatched the door open.
“Oh, I... My bad.”
Sylvia looked at Jordan standing in the doorway, looking as uncomfortable as she now was. “Jordan, I thought you were Janelle.”
“She’s gone. But I can come back.”
Sylvia shook her head and moved aside, motioning for Jordan to come into her room. “No, come in. It’s fine.”
Jordan hesitated for a moment, then stepped inside. Sylvia followed, then closed the door. She saw Jordan looking around, and it dawned on her that this was probably the first time that the girl had ever been in there. Every time they’d ever really interacted had been downstairs, where Jordan’s bedroom was located.
“What’s up?” Sylvia asked, wondering what prompted Jordan to come looking for her. Since arriving at their home after her mother’s death, Jordan hadn’t been receptive to any of the attempts Sylvia made to connect with her. Other than Garry, the only person Jordan seemed to even like was Aunt Connie.
“I, uh, I just wanted to, uh, tell you something,” Jordan said, her eyes looking down at the floor.
“Okay.”
“Um, well, first, I’m sorry about what I did yesterday. Sneaking off without permission and not letting anyone know where I was going. I shouldn’t have, uh, I mean . . .” Jordan’s voice cracked, and she sounded like she was about to cry.
“Hey.” Sylvia’s voice was soft. She reached out and touched Jordan’s shoulder. “Come over here, and let’s sit and chat.”
Jordan nodded and accompanied her as she went back into the sitting area to the love seat.
“Now, let’s start over, and this time, how about you look at me while you’re talking? I know it hasn’t been that long since you got here, but you know me well enough by now to know I don’t bite and my breath don’t stink,” Sylvia told her.
Jordan looked up at her and smiled slightly.
“That’s better.”
“Okay, well, like I said, what happened yesterday was uncalled for, and I’m sorry. Like, I didn’t think anyone would come looking for me. And I definitely wasn’t expecting you to show up at the game. Then the fight . . .” Jordan shook her head. “This is all messed up.”
“Well, I appreciate your apology, Jordan, and you’re right, it’s messed up. Your dad and I went into a panic when we didn’t know where you were,” Sylvia explained. “It didn’t matter where you were. We were going to find you and show up.”
“I see
,” Jordan mumbled.
“You’re going to have to accept the fact that we care enough to make sure you’re safe. That’s not a bad thing, either,” Sylvia said.
“I was safe, though,” Jordan told her.
“And how were we supposed to know that when we didn’t even know where you were?” Sylvia asked.
Jordan shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Sylvia angled her body so that she could face Jordan. “Jordan, I know your life has literally been turned upside down the past few weeks. When I lost my mom, I felt like someone ripped my heart out. You not only lost your mom, but you had to move to a new city and live with strangers.”
Jordan’s tear-filled eyes met hers, and she softly said, “Strangers?”
Sylvia nodded. “Yeah, strangers. Because even though we are family, the situation is strange for all of us, right?”
“Very right.”
“But you’re not going through it alone.”
“He’s not a bad person,” Jordan whispered.
“Who? Your dad?” Sylvia asked.
“No,” Jordan answered. “Sherrod.”
Sylvia was caught off guard by Jordan’s statement, so she simply said, “Okay.”
“I know Dad doesn’t like him, and I don’t want you to think any bad things about him. I heard him talking on the phone and asking about a restraining order. I don’t want that to happen.” Jordan swallowed hard. “The only reason he took me to the game was because I threatened to run away and never come back. He made me promise that if he took me, I wouldn’t run away again.”
“Sweetie, I don’t know him. But he probably still should’ve let us know,” Sylvia said.
Jordan shook her head. “In theory, maybe. But I just need for you to know he’s not a bad guy. He loved my mom, and they were best friends, and he loves me. He’s smart and nice, and he says I can come and live with—”
“Oh my God, Mom. Guess what?” Peyton’s voice called as she rushed into the room.
“What?” Sylvia answered. She heard Peyton coming toward her.
“You’re not gonna bel—” Peyton stopped midsentence, and her eyes went from Sylvia to Jordan. “Oh.”
“What? What’s going on?” Sylvia asked.