Peace? That was laughable. I didn’t feel like I’d ever have peace again.
“Just think about what I’m saying,” my mom said. “If not for you, for your family.”
My bingo-playing, warped-Bible-verse-quoting mom had actually said something profound. Too bad I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to fully receive her words.
54
Paula
I HAD MANAGED TO GET off the sofa, shower, and even fix me and the kids some breakfast when my front doorbell rang. My mom was in the back and the kids were upstairs, so I removed the last of the bacon from the pan, took the skillet off the stove, and headed to the door.
I looked out the peephole and suddenly wished I had that hot bacon grease in my hand.
“You have a lot of nerve showing your face here,” I said, swinging the door open. I couldn’t believe that Felise Mavins was standing on my doorstep.
“I know,” she humbly responded. She looked tired and puffy-eyed, in a wrinkled maxi dress and some flip-flops.
I expected Felise to launch into a rationalization, trying to explain away what she’d done. Instead, she stood there waiting.
“So, can I come in?” she finally said.
“No,” I replied. It was taking everything in my power not to revert to my Southside DC ways and drop-kick this trick right here on my doorstep.
“Then, I’m just going to say what I have to say right here,” she said, raising her head like she’d found some courage.
“You can say what you want to my front door because I’m about to slam it in your face.” I took a step back and was surprised when I bumped right into my daughter. She was peering over my shoulder, looking out at Felise.
“Tahiry, go back to your room,” I said
I expected Tahiry to protest, beg to stay, anything. But she just glared at Felise before turning and heading back down the hall.
“Please? Can I just have five minutes?” Felise said.
I wanted to tell her where she and her five minutes could go, but I needed to hear what she had to say. I finally stepped aside to let her in.
“Mind if I sit down?” Felise asked as I shut the front door.
“Yeah, I do,” I replied. She didn’t need to have a seat because she wasn’t going to be here long. The only reason I had let her in was because I needed to hear how and why, not that anything she said could justify her betrayal, but I did need to make sense of it.
“Paula, you have every right to hate me,” Felise began.
“Tell me something I don’t know,” I replied, folding my arms across my chest.
“I just . . . I just thought you might have questions, and I wanted to give you answers.”
“Oh, there are answers to this? I mean, you really have an explanation as to why you screwed my husband?” I stood in front of her, my arms crossed. I never had any intention of sitting down because I needed to look this tramp straight in the eye.
Tears welled in Felise’s eyes. I was not moved.
“No, I don’t,” she replied. “There is no rational reason to explain what I did. But I did want to—”
“How long?” I said, interrupting her.
“How long what?”
“How long were you having an affair?”
She looked surprised. “We weren’t having an affair.”
“You liar,” I snapped.
She was upset that I would make such an accusation. “I’m not expecting you to believe anything I’m saying. I lost you. I lost my husband. I lost everything.”
“Boo-hoo, cry me a freakin’ river,” I shot back.
“I’m not looking for sympathy.”
“Good, because if you are, you rang the wrong damn doorbell.”
“I’m just saying, you already hate me, justifiably so. So I have no reason not to be honest. So whatever you ask me, I’ll tell you the absolute truth.”
“Do you even know what that is?” I willed back the tears. No way was I going to shed a tear in front of her.
She nodded.
“How long?” I repeated.
She looked me dead in the eye. “We were not having an affair. It was just a one-time thing.”
“Come on, Felise. You can do better than that,” I said, rolling my eyes. “So all these years I had you in my home, up under my husband, y’all were secretly pining after each other?”
“No, absolutely not. Steven never did anything inappropriate. And we never crossed any lines. We loved and respected you too much,” she said defensively.
“Don’t say that!” I yelled, jabbing a finger in her face. She flinched. “Don’t you ever say that again.” My voice was cracking. “My husband didn’t love me and you damn sure didn’t because love would’ve stopped you from checking into a hotel room with my husband. Love would have stopped you before you did the butt-naked dance with the father of my children. And love wouldn’t have let you stand by my side, pretending to be my friend, conv—” I paused as I remembered the last few weeks. Then I couldn’t help but release a pained laugh. “Convincing me to drop my quest for answers. ‘You’re paranoid, Paula.’ ‘There is nobody else, Paula.’ ‘Let it go, Paula,’ ” I said, mocking her. “And it was just a game so I wouldn’t find out you were the slut that was sleeping with my husband!”