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“Who the fuck is that? Where the fuck are you? That’s the problem. You always got people in our business! You got me on this FaceTime bullshit, just so you can embarrass me!” Dante screamed; it was as if he had forgotten that he had FaceTimed her.
“What business? You said you were done, so why are you still on the phone?” Linda stated as she snatched the phone and stared directly into Dante’s face.
Based on his looks, Linda could see what her daughter saw in this man. Based on his mouth, she knew that he was a soldier in the devil’s army. The Bible verse, …and no wonder, for Satan himself masquerades as an angel of light, rang loudly in Linda’s head as she looked into the face of a deceiver.
Goddamn! Dante thought as he looked into the face of the expressionless woman. He had never seen her before, but he could tell that she was Myla’s mother.
Though she was beautiful, her beauty did nothing to stop his rage. He was livid. The thought of being challenged infuriated him.
“You need to stay out of me and Myla’s relationship. If you focused on your marriage, your husband wouldn’t have found the time to fuck Myla’s disease-infected fiancé,” Dante spat venomously.
Myla’s heart stopped. She could not believe that Dante could say something so disrespectful to her mother. His exact question to her when she wanted to tell her mother about her father and Terry had been: What good would it do to have your mom experiencing the same heartache that you’re feeling? Now here he was throwing the act of betrayal in her mother’s face.
Linda gave nothing. No reaction, no response. No blink, not even a quickened pulse. Linda was from the old school. Her poker face was impeccable. Whether she knew or didn’t know that her deceased husband had been living an alternative lifestyle was not a reaction that she’d display in front of a stranger.
“I don’t care if he was fucking men, cats, or dogs; he’s dead. A dead man’s actions could never knock me off my square,” Linda replied coolly.
Dante looked away from the phone screen. He had expected the woman to flinch, recoil, or attempt to explain his accusation. She did none of those things. What she did was keep talking.
“Men like you aren’t rare. You’re found a dime a dozen. I don’t waste my time arguing with men like you. Men that pick out what you feel are keywords of a sentence to keep a nonexistent argument going. You’ve got an endless amount of time to go in circles about nothing. And unlike you, I’ve got things to do. Myla, do yourself a favor, and block this man’s number,” Linda said before ending the FaceTime.
Dante did not call back.
“When God delivers you from something, don’t go back to it. Situations, addictions, or a man. When God removes an affliction, allow it to remain gone. If you go back to it, things will be worse the second time around. That man said he was done with you, but I guarantee he will try to come back. I’m telling you now, do not let him back in. You’ll regret it,” Linda said as she handed Myla her phone.
Myla was embarrassed, but she needed to know the truth. “You knew, didn’t you? You knew about Daddy and Terry?” Myla asked.
“I didn’t know about Terry. But I knew about your dad. Sadly, there were countless men in and out of our marriage. A lustful man doesn’t care who he hurts or has to step on to get his needs met; he only cares that his flesh is satisfied. That’s why he and his father didn’t get along. His father had discovered his truth and wanted nothing to do with him. When I found out about his homosexual affairs, I wanted to leave him, but divorce was forbidden in my day.
“So, I took on the role of a beard. I think you all call it a lavender marriage today. A wife was expected to smile through her pain, and hope things would change, or wait until her husband died to find peace. Back in my day, if it looked like a husband was taking too long to get to his deathbed, a wife would help him along. A little razzle dazzle in his food or kicking a jack from under the car he was working on. You know, natural causes,” Linda admitted, hoping her daughter would take the hint. But from where she was standing, it didn’t appear that Myla was picking up what she was putting down.
Myla was a wreck. She could not believe the truths her mother was revealing. “Wow, you really don’t miss Daddy?”
“I miss your father. I miss his company because we were once good friends. But the truth is, I began to smile a whole lot more after my husband died,” Linda admitted.
The blaring sound of her iPhone broke up the discomfort between her and her daughter. She answered the call quickly when she saw Miranda’s work number.
“Hey, Honeybun! What’s—”
“Where are you? Are you ok?” Miranda interrupted frantically. The sheer terror in her voice had Linda on high alert. Miranda may not have been her birth daughter, but no one could tell her that Miranda wasn’t her child.
“I’m home. Why? What’s wrong?” Linda asked. Miranda was panicking, and Linda had no idea why.
“We have family sharing on the Pulsoid App for our Fitbit. Your heart rate is through the roof. This shit says your beats per minute are 210 BPM. It should be between 60 and 100 BPM. I’m calling an ambulance,” Miranda said as she picked up her cell phone.
“Girl, I don’t need no damn ambulance,” Linda laughed. “I just had to set Myla’s ex straight. He thought I’d fall into his trap of overexplaining and word salads. He had another thing coming.”
Miranda chuckled
“Oh, ok, well, I was just checking on you. Make sure you listen to the two-minute stress reliever on the Fitbit app and calm down. Call Heaven if you need anything. I’ll be at work until 7:00. I’ll check on you later,” Miranda said before ending the call.
Myla’s heart cracked. She noticed that Miranda didn’t ask about her. This was not like them. She also noticed that Miranda and her mother shared a fitness app that she wasn’t included in. She wanted to ask her mom what that was about, but truthfully, she had other things to think about.
“I don’t like the direction that your friendship is headed. You and Mimi have been friends for twenty years. You’re letting a man you barely know cause a rift between the two of you. You would rather appease him than fix things with your family. This man is not after love; he’s after control. You are a psychologist, so you should already recognize the signs of a manipulator.”
“He’s not a manipulator, Mommy. He’s just under stress due to his realty firm.”
Linda shook her head. She wanted to be mad, but she couldn’t. Some women made excuses for a man’s behavior. Sadly, her daughter had become one of those women.