"for better or for worse"
This story continues the third Wednesday of the month by a NEW BLACK NOVELIST.
NOVELIST #1 - Nicole S. Rouse
Cheyenne Daniels ran outside and, out of breath, stared at her husband. “Do you want to tell me why she’s here?” Cheyenne asked, as she pointed to Terrell’s former college fling. “I know Kamille wasn’t invited to this party.”
“Are you finally gonna man up,” Kamille questioned with attitude, “or do I need to tell her?”
“Can you please be quiet for once?” Terrell yelled, and rubbed his bald head with both hands.
“You can’t keep me silent forever, Terry,” retorted Kamille.
Impatient, Cheyenne screamed at the top of her lungs, “Just tell me what’s going on!”
Terrell was startled, but lowered his head and whispered, “Kamille and I have a son.”
For a moment Cheyenne felt like an actress in a Hollywood film, only there was no director off to the side with a bullhorn ready to shout, “Cut!” This was real life and this scene was really happening.
All of a sudden Cheyenne’s legs felt like they had turned into putty, and if Terrell hadn’t caught her, she would’ve fallen onto the concrete.
“We should probably leave,” he mumbled as a small crowd formed behind them.
Angie and Nyemah lead the pack of angry women. “Is everything all right?” Angie questioned, eyeing Terrell suspiciously.
“We’re fine,” Terrell said apprehensively as he waved everyone away. “We’re just having a conversation. You can go back inside.”
Nyemah perched her fist on her right hip. “I’m not leaving until Cheyenne says everything is okay.”
Terrell looked to his wife for approval. “Sweetheart, please tell them that we’re okay.
But everything is not okay, Cheyenne thought. The look on Kamille’s troubled face was proof of that. “Everything’s fine,” she lied, and at Nyemah’s command the crowd backed away.
Cheyenne faced her husband and looked deep into his eyes, pleading for an answer. When he and Kamille were caught many years ago in his college apartment, they had barely escaped an old-fashioned beat down from Cheyenne and her teammates. Before Cheyenne could lay a hand on her, Kamille’s track and field skills kicked in and she jumped out of the bedroom window.
“Babe,” Terrell began, “let me explain.”
“What’s there to explain?” remarked Kamille.
“That’s enough!” Terrell urged.
An annoying smirk appeared on Kamille’s face as she tightly folded her arms across her chest. “For the record, Cheyenne,” she said in the sarcastic tone Cheyenne despised, “I wanted to tell you from the very beginning.”
Without saying another word, Cheyenne pushed past Kamille and headed to Terrell’s Expedition parked down the street. I can’t believe Terrell’s a father, she thought, and yanked at the handle rapidly as if the force she applied would cause it to open. For fear that she would damage the car, Terrell used his key to unlock the doors and Cheyenne jumped inside the truck.
Tired of watching them argue, Cheyenne pressed the horn and did not let up until her husband marched toward the car.
“I will call you tomorrow,” Kamille announced loud enough for everyone to hear.
Embarrassed, Cheyenne snapped, “Hurry up and drive off!”
How in the world am I going to explain Terrell’s illegitimate child to my family and friends?
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