The Perfect Affair (15 page)

S
herri walked out of the office, and had it not been for the spring hinges that made it impossible, she would have slammed the door. She started for the kitchen but, believing that the desire to break something might be too hard to squelch, went to the master suite instead and headed straight for the closet. After making quick work of pulling on a pair of sweats and sneakers, she placed house keys, earbuds, and her cell phone in a pouch, ran into the kitchen just long enough to retrieve a bottle of water, and left the house.

She started walking without a destination in mind. It really didn’t matter where she went as long as it was away from Randall. She pulled out her phone, attached the earbuds, and tapped the music screen, scrolling until she found the folder titled “Walking.” Soon the upbeat sounds of McFadden and Whitehead blocked out the outside noise. In time, she hoped their positive message would work on how she was feeling on the inside as well. Securing the pouch around her waist, she engaged her arms, allowing them to swing freely as she did a semi-fast walk down the block. One of the early risers in their gated community was walking his dog. Another was jogging and yet another—who fancied herself to be the next Martha Stewart and tended the beautiful flower garden that framed their front lawn—snipped away at some unfortunate weed that didn’t belong. “Martha” attempted to wave and speak, but Sherri averted her gaze and kept it moving. She didn’t feel like talking to anyone. She needed space and time to focus on her feelings; why she’d gotten so upset just now and instigated her and Randall’s very uncharacteristic argument.

Sherri took a deep breath. Just this inner acknowledgment had taken a toll. She increased her pace, enjoying the increased heart rate, the rush of air from her lungs, and the slight discomfort in her fast-moving legs. Her friend Elle had been faithful, but after the first couple times, Sherri and Mr. Shaun T had had a parting of the ways. Her body was letting her know that stopping before really getting started had probably not been her best move.

But focusing on her body took her mind off her suspicions.

Is that a good thing?
She slowed a bit, remembering the conversation she’d had with Debbie, just after meeting Jacqueline Tate.

Aside from his singular indiscretion all those years ago, she’d never doubted her husband. True, he mostly worked around men, and the women in the field didn’t intimidate her, but there had never been a time when she felt this uneasy. Even when he’d cheated, she’d not had a clue. Not at first anyway. Back then, she’d been the last to know, and only found out because of a sympathetic woman in Randall’s office who hadn’t liked her being in the dark.

Sherri knew this was sound advice. So why was she finding it so hard to take heed? She reached inside her pouch to retrieve her vibrating phone. Looking at the caller ID, she welcomed the much needed distraction. “Good morning, Nathan.”

“Is it? By the sound of your voice, I can’t tell. When I called the house and Randall said you’d already left, I thought something had happened with Mom, but he assured me she’s fine.”

“Have you called her?”

“No.”

“You need to call her more, Nathan. Or better yet, make a few visits.”

“I know, Sis. I’ll do better.” A few seconds of silence and then, “So what are you doing up and out so early?”

“Decided to get a little exercise, take a walk.”

“A walk or a jog?”

“Walk, Brother. Unlike you, I’m not in the same shape as when I was nineteen.”

“Sherri, I am not in that kind of shape.” A pause and then, “My body feels like it’s all of twenty-one.”

“Oh, excuse me!” They laughed. “You’re up early too.”

“Yes, I’m participating in a barbecue cook-off.”

“When did you start cooking?”

“Not cooking, Sis, barbecuing. Don’t put me in the kitchen, but when it comes to meat and a grill, I can hold my own. It’s a fundraiser to send the kids we mentor to college.”

Sherri began walking again, a little slower this time. “We?” “I was asked to join a prestigious group here: the One Hundred Black Men of Atlanta. I didn’t tell you?”

“Not that I remember.”

“Several of the guys at the club where I work out are members. I figured that since I don’t yet have my own, I’d do what I could to help someone else’s child.”

Sherri pulled the phone away from her ear. “Wait a minute. Is this Nathaniel Duane Carver I’m talking to, or has an imposter reached me?”

“Don’t go making a mountain out of a molehill. And to answer the questions I know are in your mind: No, I’m not engaged. No, I’m not seriously dating anyone. And, no, nobody’s pregnant with your niece or nephew.”

“Are you sure about that? Because unless you’re celibate . . .”

“I’m sensible. I don’t take chances. I don’t take risks.”

“And again I say, unless you’re celibate there’s . . .” Sherri paused as she looked at her phone. “Hey, Brother, this is Mom’s neighbor, Ms. Riley. I’ll call you back.” She clicked over, stopping abruptly in the middle of the path. “Ms. Riley? How are you doing? Is everything all right?”

“I’m doing fair to middling, and your Mom is okay.” Sherri audibly released the breath she’d been holding and began walking again. Instead of turning right and heading back toward the house, or left toward the golf course, she went straight, to an area where more grandiose homes and a community clubhouse stood. “Then what can I do for you this morning?”

“Now, I don’t want you to panic . . .”

Sherri stopped again.
Too late.

“But I called to talk about the full-time assistant you mentioned for your mom, and whether you’d found somebody.”

Sherri’s gait was slow as she began to walk again, eyeing the mostly cloudy sky and the slivers of sun peeking out. “Why, Ms. Riley? What’s going on?”

“One, your mother continues to be forgetful. She hasn’t wandered off again, but she couldn’t remember where she parked the other day, and while conversing she repeats topics we’ve just discussed. Then, there are the headaches. I don’t feel comfortable leaving her alone for too long. And, two, that’s what I’m about to do. Leave.”

Sherri’s heart dropped. “Where are you going?”

“St. Louis. My oldest grandchild just had a baby, a bouncing baby boy.”

“Congratulations, Ms. Riley. I’m sure you’re quite proud.”

“I am.”

“How long will you be there?”

“That’s the thing, Sherri. Taking care of a child is a lot of responsibility for a twenty-year-old who is also working and going to school. My daughter is already overloaded handling school, a full-time job, and a special-needs child. So I’ll be gone for a good little while. Eventually, I might move there.”

“I’m sure your daughter will like that. I’ve been trying to get Mom to move for years.”

“I think she holds on to that place because it reminds her of Clarence. She says he was never as happy as when they left Chicago and moved here.”

“She always wanted to go back to where she was born. Daddy was a southern boy, so it all worked out.”

“I won’t be too happy about leaving. But my children need me. So, do y’all have somebody in mind who can come and watch your mama?”

“Not yet but don’t worry. We’ll step up our efforts to get someone right away. When will you be leaving?”

“I told them I wouldn’t leave until Elaine had someone to watch her; I’m hoping in the next month or so, to stay for a couple weeks. Then, depending on how I feel about a longer stay in the Midwest, I’ll make the move permanent. But if that happens, it will be more toward the end of the year.”

“We’ll get right on it. Thank you so much, Ms. Riley, for everything. Mom talks about you all the time. You’re a good neighbor and a wonderful friend. We really appreciate you.”

“It’s my pleasure, darling. Your mama’s not just a neighbor; she’s my friend, too.”

Sherri ended the call, scrolled the screen and tapped the redial button. “Hey, Nathan,” she said once her brother had answered. “It’s me again. We have to find live-in help for Mom, and we have to do it now.”

R
andall ran a hand over the lapel of his tuxedo as he walked into the dimly lit grand ballroom at Chicago’s Peninsula hotel. He remembered a time when putting on a monkey suit felt as foreign as Tanzania, and entering a formal setting could bring on the nerves. But tonight he was calm and self-assured, knowing that he stood shoulder to shoulder with everyone in this room, and that he belonged. He adjusted his cuff links as a heavily Russian-accented voice caused him to turn around.

“Dr. Atwater. Dr. Atwater!”

“Yes?” Randall reached for the hand outstretched before him.

“I am Dr. Varennikov, from the European Medical Center group in—”

“Moscow, Russia,” Randall finished, as recognition dawned and he shook the doctor’s hand more heartily. “You’re a leading authority on brain-related diseases, and sent a note after reading an article on my work. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“I was delighted when, upon looking at the schedule of speakers, I saw your name along with that of Dr. Chatterji and others whom I admire.”

“Well, the feeling is mutual, sir.”

Before long another Russian doctor joined them and soon Randall was surrounded by colleagues interested in his research and those whose work he admired. Some of them, especially the international contingents, had brought their wives, who were introduced as well. It made Randall think about Sherri and the few words that had passed between them since the past weekend’s argument.

He’d tried to make it right. Had returned from an invigorating game of golf and apologized for his outburst. He’d tried to relieve her suspicions about the snippet of conversation she’d heard. Potential additional research funding, he’d explained, possibly that might help properly diagnose her mother’s illness. Talk of Mom Elaine tended to pacify her somewhat, but Randall knew she still had questions.

“Are you sure there isn’t anything you’re hiding from me?” she’d asked him.

That he’d said no with a straight face just underscored how committed he was to making sure that nothing was revealed, that she didn’t know a thing about the details of his covert actions until the time was right. Keeping this particular situation a total secret would simply be better for everyone. And since the doctor had given him an all clear during Monday’s physical, he didn’t tell her about the strange sleeping-in-the-middle-of-the-day episode either. He just hoped that at the end of the day, when everything came to light and the reason he’d lied had been revealed, she’d be able to forgive him and life could go on.

For the first couple days of the week, Randall had left for work early and come home late. By the time he arrived, Sherri was either in another part of the house reading or watching TV, or already asleep. He’d interacted with the children mostly—with Blair, their nanny, and with Atom and Dizzy, their shepherd dogs. He’d left a note in the master bath before catching the plane on Wednesday. It was simple: I love you. She’d texted her response: Me too. That’s the only interaction they’d had since Wednesday. Today was Friday, and he’d be going home on Sunday.
When I get back there
, he thought as he watched a few couples take the dance floor,
I’ll fix this lack of communication between us. I’m the reason it’s happening, and I’ll make it right.

 

“We’ve got to keep meeting like this.” Jacqueline had sidled up to Randall without his knowing and now whispered into his ear, from behind him.

He turned, the scowl on his face turning into a smile once he saw her. He started to speak but stopped as he took in the formfitting maxi and the deep-plunging neckline where a strategically placed teardrop necklace highlighted her generous globes. He allowed a moment for his eyes to travel down to her shiny stilettos and up to the bone-straight hair cascading around her shoulders before meeting her eyes and speaking again. “Isn’t the phrase
stop
meeting like this?”

Jacqueline shrugged, happy to see how Randall’s eyes kept darting to her cleavage. “I prefer my version.” She shifted until she was standing directly in front of him. “You look quite handsome tonight. The tux works for you.”

“Thank you. You look nice as well, although, quite frankly, I’m surprised you’re here.”

“Why’s that?”

“You’ve been to what, two or three conferences and expos in the past few weeks, meeting many of the same doctors, scientists, researchers, and engineers. I’d think you’d have enough for several in-depth articles for a variety of magazines.”

“What are you trying to say, Randall?” she asked, closing the distance between them. “That you’re growing tired of my presence?”

“Not at all. I’d never begrudge the company of an intelligent woman who can speak my sometimes boring language. I guess not knowing much about the life of a writer makes me curious, that’s all.”

“You know what I’m curious about?”

“What’s that?”

“If a man of your intellect can also get down on the dance floor.”

Randall chuckled. “I do okay.”

“Oh really? Let’s see.”

In that moment he became aware that the band had gone from playing classical music to instrumental pop. “I really probably shouldn’t, I don’t want to embarrass you or myself.”

“Trust me,” Jacqueline said as she linked her arm through his and turned toward the dance floor. “That isn’t going to happen. Just follow my lead, handsome, and we’ll do fine.”

 

Sherri nestled deeper into the great room’s wraparound couch, ready to enjoy a peaceful Friday night and an episode of the new
Arsenio Hall Show
. She and her BFF Renee had just today talked about how good it was to have him back on late-night TV, how he picked up where he left off, and how it hardly seemed that more than a quarter of a century had gone by since last seeing him in the late-night spot. She liked how many of the guests were stars she’d grown up with and artists she enjoyed. Mostly, she knew that for at least an hour she’d be able to stop thinking about Randall and how unfairly she felt she’d treated him earlier in the week, before he went to Chicago.

“Girl, why are you trying to create drama where there is none?” Renee had asked, when during an earlier phone call Sherri had detailed their latest argument. “So the man doesn’t want to talk to you about his business, so what? Is he providing for you?”
Yes.
“Is he supportive of you and what you want to do?”
Yes.
“Has he given you any solid, valid reason to believe he’s not being faithful?”
Not really.
“Uh, that would be a no. Listen to me, Sherri,” she’d continued, her voice filled with compassion mixed with concern. “You’ve got a good man, and take it from this single woman out here trying to find one, they aren’t as plentiful as they used to be. It sounds like you have too much time on your hands and not enough to keep that mind of yours occupied and that imagination from working overtime. You’re creating a problem that’s not even real. When that man comes home, you need to have a good meal, a hot bath, and a wet pussy waiting, and let him know how much you missed him, and how much you love him. You know I love you, sistah, and you know I support you, but that’s real talk right there.”

“But what about Jacqueline?”

“What about her? Didn’t you tell me he told you about the interview; didn’t try and hide that he’d met the woman in LA?”

“Yes, he told me.”

He’d also admitted that he thought she was beautiful. And he’d been right. But during the chance meeting at the restaurant in D.C., Jacqueline had had eyes only for her date, a man who looked like he’d stepped right off the pages of a fashion magazine as well. She’d been cordial and professional, and hadn’t shown any romantic interest in Randall at all. But still, Sherri had judged her.

Muting the TV during a commercial break, Sherri chided herself. “You’ve messed up royally, girl,” she mumbled. “It’s time to get it back together.”

“Get what together?”

Sherri jumped. “Albany! Girl, you scared me. I didn’t hear you come in the house, let alone this room.”

“That’s because you were a million miles away.” Albany plopped on the couch, munching on an apple. “Thinking about Dad and why you’re mad at him?”

Sherri’s head snapped around. “Who says I’m mad?”

“Please, Mom. You guys try to hide it from me and Aaron, but we can always tell when you guys are fighting.”

“Oh really?”

Albany laughed. “It’s so obvious.” She reached for the remote.

Sherri grabbed it first and placed it on the other side of her, away from Albany’s hand. “I’m watching this.”

“Who is it?”

“Arsenio Hall.”

“Who’s he?”

Sherri gave her daughter the side eye. “You don’t know who that is?”

“Nope.”

“I guess you wouldn’t, but at one time he was very, very popular, and made history as the first African-American to host a show on late-night TV.”

“Must have been before I was born,” Albany responded in the kind of bored voice that only a thirteen-year-old can possess. “I’d rather watch TeenNick.”

“Why are you home anyway? I thought that after the movies, y’all were going bowling.”

“Plans changed.” Albany turned to look at her mother.

“Why are you mad at Dad?”

“I’m not mad at him, honey. We just had a little misunderstanding, that’s all.”

“But y’all barely talked for two whole days. Looks like more than a little misunderstanding to me.”

“That’s because you’re a child who knows nothing about relationships. Now back out of your parents’ business and stay in the child’s lane where you belong.”

“But your marriage is my business. If y’all get divorced, it will affect my life!”

Now it was Sherri’s turn to shift so that she could face her child fully.
Why in the world would Albany even consider such a thing as Randall and I separating?
She had no idea but knew it was time to find out.

“Honey, every couple has their ups and downs; every family. Do you and Aaron always get along?”

“No, but that’s different!”

“How?”

“Because he’s my younger brother and they are always pains in the butt.”

“Ha! Can I tell you a little secret?” Albany nodded. “Sometimes, so are daddies and husbands. And sometimes mommies can be a pain. But that doesn’t mean that we don’t love each other, just like it doesn’t mean you don’t love Aaron when the two of you fight. Daddy and I love each other very much. So you can get the thought of a divorce right out of your head. Because the four of us—you, me, Aaron, and Dad—are a family. And no one is going anywhere.”

 

Jacqueline tossed her hair away from her face, smiling as she mounted Randall like a thoroughbred and began to ride. “Ooh, baby, you feel so good inside me. Does this feel good to you?” He nodded. “Do you want me to come for daddy?” Another nod. “I can’t hear you!” she sang out.

“Yes, Jacqueline. Come for daddy!”

“Okay, I’ll do it. I’ll do it. Now, now, now!” She increased her pace, her breasts bouncing up and down, her smile wide as she heard the mattress springs creaking with the intensity of their lovemaking. “I love you, Randall! I love you!”

Jacqueline went over the edge, her body jerking with the force of her release. She flopped on the bed, body sweaty, breath labored. And in this moment she knew. It wasn’t enough to see Randall sporadically, to enjoy only clandestine meetings in luxury hotels. She wanted everything, all of him, and to know that there was someone named Sherri standing between her and this desire mattered not at all.

Because she was Jacqueline “I’m a Survivor” Tate. And she always got what she wanted.