If Your Wife Only Knew Read online

  Kiara laughed, yet she wasn’t completely satisfied. That was why when Kiara bumped into Grand Pop minutes later, she wanted his side of the story.

  Grand Pop was still handsome even though he walked a little slower since he turned seventy. But he trotted about like an old-school pimp.

  “Grand Pop, have I ever told you how much I love you?” Kiara choked up and gave him a hug.

  “Aw, sugah, I love you, too.”

  “And I want you to know that I’m praying that my husband will be just like you—strong, stable, smart, and dedicated to his wife.” She shook her head. “It’s unbelievable that you two have been blessed to see this day.”

  Grand Pop averted his eyes. He gazed at the ceiling and cleared his throat.

  “Well, sugah, I hate to tell you this right now, but you would’ve found out about it anyway. I-I am filing for divorce before the end of the year. Sooner rather than later.”

  “W-w-hat did you just say?”

  “You heard. We may have been together for forty, but I’m telling you now, ain’t gone be no forty-first anniversary.”

  “Grand Pop! Nooo!”

  “Sugah, you young but you ought to know by now that shigitty happens. That you can have it good for a long time, but good don’t always stay good.”

  “I just can’t believe I’m hearing this.” Kiara stared into space and pondered the shocking revelation. “I mean, I’ve been to your house. I’ve seen all the beautiful photos that Mama Flora displays everywhere, in every room. She’s smiling. You’re smiling.”

  “They’re photos, sugah. That’s what you do. You smile . . . for the camera.”

  “Does that mean you weren’t sincere? That your love for Grandma wasn’t genuine?”

  “It means I loved her the best way I could. In life, people try to stay happy, but things happen. Life gets changed around. Happiness turns upside down.”

  Kiara’s heart sank inside of her. She reached out and hugged Grand Pop. She leaned her head against his chest.

  “You two are my inspiration. Now what am I going to do? Does Mama Flora know? Why is she acting like everything is okay when it’s not?”

  “Baby girl, she’s hurting. She just hides it. You may want to go find her. Talk to her. Give her your love. She’ll always be your family.”

  She kissed Grand Pop’s cheek as tears streamed from her eyes.

  “I wish the best for you,” she replied. “You will always be family, too. And thanks for letting me know what’s going on.”

  She gave him one last squeeze and said good-bye.

  The information was more than Kiara could bear. She decided to leave right away; she wasn’t in the mood to party any longer.

  Kiara finally made it home. She and Rashad lived on a quiet tree-lined street in Fresno, a suburb located south of Houston. Their corner lot residence had supreme curb appeal with its brick and stone elevation and opulent landscaping. It boasted a two-story living room, island kitchen, a game room, a spiral staircase, four bedrooms, and a custom-made deck built with Rashad’s own hands. Kiara drove into the garage and turned off the ignition. Once she got inside the house, she hurried to their first-floor master suite and got undressed. The hot water from the whirlpool jets massaged her as she cleaned herself inside their glass-enclosed Jacuzzi shower; then Kiara crawled into their king-size bed. Rashad was spread out and snoring. She kicked him. He didn’t move. She kicked him harder. He sat up.

  “What? Damn. What?”

  “Sorry.”

  “You’re not sorry. Why’d you kick me? What’d I do?”

  “Oh, my God, everything isn’t about you, Rashad.”

  “If you kicking me like a damned kangaroo, I’ve got to assume it’s about me!”

  “Babe, forgive me. I-I’m just so wired up.” She waited for him to ask what happened. When he lay back down and turned away from her and snatched the comforter back on top of himself, Kiara continued. “Rashad, I know you’re sleepy but you gotta hear this. My grandparents are heading to Splitsville.”

  “Is that a small town in Texas?”

  “Rashad, stop playing. I think it’s ridiculous for old-ass married folks to be breaking up. Grand Pop loves women. What’s he supposed to do now? Register with OkCupid?”

  “Hell, if he’s a true G, he might.”

  “Oh, that would be so disgusting. At his age, where is he gonna find a woman that’s better than Mama Flora? I think he’s tripping. Whatever problems they had, surely they can work ’em out, don’t you think?”

  “Dunno. None of my biz.”

  “Rashad!”

  “Why you sound so shocked? Couples crash and burn every day. Nick and Mariah. Wiz and Amber. And um, each time Kim Kardashian breaks up with a man it’s almost like a national holiday.”

  “Humph! That’s what you call hooking up with a famous penis. But we’re talking about my family and people we actually know. This situation is serious.”

  “You’re right. It is serious. And even though I’m acting like I’m not surprised, well, hell, I am surprised.”

  She sprung off the bed and started pacing alongside it.

  “I didn’t see this one coming. Women have so much to deal with already.”

  Rashad grinned as he watched Kiara vent. Even though they first met more than ten years earlier, he still admired his wife’s beauty. Her oval-shaped face, flawless honey brown complexion, doe eyes, big boobs, and curvy shape made her a looker. She was his own little Ashanti, since she bore a strong resemblance to the attractive singer.

  “Hello? Men have a lot on their plates, too.”

  “Rashad, there’s no comparison. In fact, I think you ought to be glad and count the blessings you receive from being married to a woman like me. I bring something to the table because I work every day, and I mean seven-days-a-week every day. And I help to raise our awesome son. I cook for you, clean for you, spread my legs open for you, and do all kinds of things that you may not even deserve. You couldn’t handle half the stuff that’s on my plate!”

  Rashad stopped grinning. “Calm down. You’re going overboard.”

  “That’s what I’m supposed to do. I must go overboard because when it’s all said and done, I don’t want anyone to be able to point a finger at me and say Kiara Mariah Eason screwed it up. Or that I was caught not handling my business. Mmm mmm. Nope. That’s not going to happen.”

  “Okay, okay. I get it. You’re dope.”

  “Don’t be facetious, Rashad.”

  “But I’m not. I mean it. You are dope. You’re Mrs. Rashad Quintell Eason. Now come get back in bed, shut off that overactive brain of yours, and take your pretty ass to sleep. I’m sorry to hear about what happened. But there’s nothing we can do about them breaking up.”

  She raised one eyebrow and took a seat next to him on the bed.

  “Rashad, go ahead and admit it. You really don’t care because it’s not your life! As long as you’re not the one getting a divorce, you don’t give a shit, am I right?”

  “Huh? I’m saying that their issues have nothing to do with us.”

  “But actually they do.” She gave her husband a pensive look. “I wanted us to be just like them and now I don’t even know if we can make it to twenty years, let alone forty.”

  “Say what? Kiara, it is what it is, why can’t you just let it go—?”

  “Don’t interrupt me. I feel we need to be on the same page as far as our relationship is concerned.”

  “But we are—”

  “Let me finish. I’ve bent over backwards for us. And sometimes I feel you’re not getting it. Or that what we’ve accomplished doesn’t mean as much to you as it does to me.”

  “Of course it does, babe.” He sat up and leaned over to kiss Kiara.

  “Do not try and kiss me if it doesn’t come from a place of love.”

  “Love,” Rashad muttered, “is overrated.” He blew her a kiss, turned over, buried his body into the comforter, and tried to go back to sleep.

  “
That’s what I’m talking about,” she wailed. “You’re not taking me seriously. You’re taking me for granted and I’m telling you right now, you don’t want to do that.”

  He turned to face her. “Is that a threat?”

  “Does it sound like one?”

  “Do you really have to go there, Kiara? Damn, I turn in one unexcused absence for a party that I never had time to go to in the first place and now you’re threatening me? As hard as I bust my ass every day, sweating like a pig, and sacrificing my safety on construction sites just to make sure you have every material good you want? Oh, so you’re getting the big head and thinking you bring more than me to the table because you work, too? You’re the HNIC at your nice air-conditioned job and you want the kudos here at our crib, too?” He threw back his head and laughed as Kiara’s cheeks reddened. “Okay. I get it. Baby girl, you kick ass and you take names. You put in hella effort for us. And you’re a bomb-ass mother. Hell, you’re the shit at just about everything. And now that that’s been acknowledged, it really makes me feel good that I’m about to go to sleep knowing my wife thinks I’m trash; and all because your grandparents are going to a place called Splitsville. Miss me with the drama, babe. Good night.”

  Kiara could not believe that Rashad went off on her like that. His crazy rant kind of turned her on, but right then she was pissed. Sometimes she let her husband’s insults slide, but tonight wouldn’t be one of those times. She let out a frustrated scream and snatched the covers until Rashad’s body was completely exposed. He was lying on his side with his back facing her. She ripped down his boxers and spotted his butt cheeks. She jumped up on the bed, took her big toe and jammed it squarely into the center of his ass. She almost fell as she twisted her toe and she glared at Rashad as he squirmed.

  He bucked his body and yelled, “What the fuck!”

  “How’s that for some drama? You better be glad that’s all I did,” she snapped. “I’m serious about everything I said, Rashad. I love you, but I will fuck you up. You’ve been forewarned. Good night.”

  After several minutes of pacing the room, Kiara calmed down and crawled back in bed next to her husband. Their highly emotional fights were common. Even though Rashad made her furious and she was inclined to check him here and there, she loved his dirty drawers. Even her former best friend, Adina, used to question her, “What do you see in this man? He’s an arrogant asshole.” Kiara would laugh and tell her, “I can’t completely disagree, but I see things you don’t see. He turns me on in spite of his ways. Love can’t be explained. And it’s not always logical.”

  In truth, Rashad made her feel deeply in love one minute, and she was ready to karate chop him the next minute. Ever since she first spotted him at a Houston nightclub, and noticed how well-dressed he was and his confident air, she knew she wanted to meet him. She spotted him standing around with some of his boys holding a drink in his hand and watching the action. His mouth was constantly running. But he saw her looking his way and he waved. Good! She got noticed just like she knew she would. Kiara confidently walked up to him and introduced herself. They snuck away to their own table. Rashad ordered their drinks. They made serious eye contact as they sat across from each other. At first their conversation was trivial bullshit as they complimented each other’s outward appearance, and talked about the kinds of cars they drove, and where they liked to hang out. But as the night progressed, Kiara decided to lay it on him. She told him she wanted to be somebody, she wanted to live a good life, and she would work hard to achieve it. But the crème de la crème would be to have a successful man to share it with her. As they started talking about their lives, their hopes and dreams, Kiara knew Rashad was the one for her. She found out that he was a budding business owner; his goal was to make big moves as a minority firm in the city. He confessed he’d been buck-wild in the past, but now he was ready to settle down, if only he could find the right woman. The fact that he was deliciously handsome also didn’t hurt. Plus, he had other qualities she liked. After dating for a brief period they decided to get married.

  And though they’d been a couple for one decade, Rashad still did it for her in the looks department. Her husband had short, wavy hair, a neat mustache, deep-set eyes that lit up when he laughed, an incredible body, and his big dick was a major bonus, especially since he knew how to work it.

  Kiara lay next to Rashad and could hear his steady breathing. He’d already fallen asleep. She figured he must have been telling the truth about being sick and feeling exhausted. She felt a little guilty after that. She kissed his shoulder then wrapped one arm around his stomach. Rashad’s warm, taut body felt good next to hers but she wished she had a better view than just his back. Instead of waking him up and asking him to hold her, Kiara felt thankful that her husband was there with her that night. Because as Kiara went to sleep thinking of the woman who raised her, she knew that once Grand Pop moved out, Mama Flora would morph into Macaulay Culkin and his famous movie: she’d be all alone in her scary old house . . . slapping her hands on the sides of her face . . . and screaming.

  At six a.m. the following morning, Kiara was on her way to work at Texas South West University, also known as TSWU. She served as a senior manager of communications in an academic department. Her job had been good to her, and Kiara was extremely satisfied to have stable employment and report daily to a place where she earned nearly six figures a year.

  It was early May, a pleasant seventy-nine degrees. The glittering sun lit up the city as it buzzed with the sounds of life and activity. While she was waiting at a railroad track for a train to pass, she dialed the automatic account info number to their credit union. She enjoyed keeping on top of their finances. When she heard the balance of their joint checking account, she promptly hung up. She immediately made another call to Rashad.

  “Hey babe, I’m almost at work but I needed to ask you something,” she said

  “What’s that?”

  “Did you make a big withdrawal yesterday?”

  “Did I make a big withdrawal yesterday?”

  “Yes, babe.”

  “How much?”

  “What type of question is that?”

  “A real one.”

  “Six hundred, babe.”

  “Uh no, I didn’t,” he said.

  “No? You sure? Because according to the bank, a withdrawal was made.”

  “Look, a call is coming in that I’ve been waiting on.”

  “Well, whoever it is, they’re gonna have to wait. This is important.”

  “Kiara, to you everything is important. Hold on a minute.”

  She grew more annoyed the longer she waited. And she knew that it wasn’t good to argue with her husband before she went to work because the negative flow threw her off all day.

  Rashad finally returned to the call. “Yeah, I just secured a major interior paint job I’ve been wanting at an industrial building on the southwest side.”

  “That’s great, Rashad, but can we get back to my question. I was planning to pay off the new computers and printers this month and with that money missing—”

  “Hey, tell you what. Since I’ll be making a nice chunk of change, I will put the money back in the account.”

  “So you did take it?”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ll put the money back, the balance will be paid off, and we won’t owe Dell, Inc., a dime. Problem solved.”

  “Problem isn’t solved, Rashad. I have a feeling that you’re holding something back from me and if that is the case then we need to talk. I want us to be open and honest.”

  “You want us to be open and honest? Really, Kiara?”

  “Yes, now come on and tell me the truth.”

  “See, this is why I feel I should manage that particular account. That way, when I have to make certain moves, I won’t have you all upset. Remember, I told you that a business owner got all kinds of shit he has to deal with.”

  “There you go. I just think I’m better at handling these kinds of things and I expect
to be involved. You don’t have time to work and oversee the funds. And as long as we have this joint business account, you definitely need to give your wife a heads-up when you do this kind of thing. Now I just pulled up in the parking lot. Do you know how hard it is for me to put a convincing smile on my face like I’m Super Woman before I come into the office?”

  “That’s the whole issue. Like I said, you do a kick-ass job, but you’re not Super Woman.”

  “Rashad!” She felt her blood pressure rising. “I would never say something so shitty like that to you. Sometimes . . . I swear to God.”

  “Babe, I’m just telling the truth. You can’t fly.”

  “Now you’re acting silly.”

  He heard her sniffling. “Hey, I am sorry . . . but damn. Seems like lately . . . you’ve been over the top . . . with the emotions. You may need a reality check or something.”

  She sighed heavily and for the second day in a row didn’t have the desire or energy to say her usual, “Bye, babe. Love you. Have a blessed day.”

  Instead she muttered, “Mr. Eason, I love you, but you’re an ass.”

  She hung up.

  Then she called the number to her credit union. She wanted to check the balance of a secret money market account that she had opened five years ago.

  “Your balance on account number 753142 is twelve thousand four hundred dollars and eleven cents.”

  Then she checked on the balance of a CD that she secretly owned. It consisted of thousands of dollars, too.

  Growing up, Kiara had heard far too many horror stories of her great aunts who had been born in an era in which the husbands made and controlled all the money. The wives took care of the kids and had to wait to be given an allowance. The men exercised total financial control. And a couple of Kiara’s great aunts were stunned when their spouses went through mid-life crises that included running off with younger women and cleaning out the bank accounts. The wives were left penniless and struggled to find work even though they had no transferrable skills. Kiara never wanted to be in that position; she wanted to be prepared for whatever challenges married life could bring.