In My Rearview Mirror Read online

  Dear Reader:

  In My Rearview Mirror by Suzetta Perkins is, as always with this author, a page-turner. Perkins has the gift of painting vivid pictures of characters, right down to their surroundings and style. In yet another story of both redemption and love conquering all, a married couple struggles to get over both of their numerous past mistakes before their imminent divorce is finalized.

  What happens when both the wife and husband have babies outside of their marriage? What happens when one of them has children with the spouse of one of their older children that they conceived together? What happens when scandal runs amok in a community that threatens their very livelihood? How does love prevail when every day is filled with yet another heart-wrenching discovery about someone close to them and people are even turning up dead? All of those questions and more are answered within the pages of In My Rearview Mirror.

  As always, thanks for supporting Suzetta Perkins and the authors that I publish under Strebor Books. We appreciate the love and we strive to bring you the best, most prolific authors who write outside of the traditional publishing box. You can contact me directly at [email protected] and find me on Twitter @planetzane and on Facebook at www.facebook.com/AuthorZane.

  Blessings,

  Zane

  Publisher

  Strebor Books

  www.simonandschuster.com

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Chapter Fifty

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  Chapter Sixty

  Chapter Sixty-One

  Chapter Sixty-Two

  Chapter Sixty-Three

  Chapter Sixty-Four

  Chapter Sixty-Five

  Chapter Sixty-Six

  Chapter Sixty-Seven

  Chapter Sixty-Eight

  Chapter Sixty-Nine

  Chapter Seventy

  Chapter Seventy-One

  Chapter Seventy-Two

  Chapter Seventy-Three

  Chapter Seventy-Four

  Chapter Seventy-Five

  Chapter Seventy-Six

  Chapter Seventy-Seven

  Discussion Guide

  Behind the Veil Excerpt

  About the Author

  To my children, Teliza and Gerald Jr.

  To my grandchildren, Samayya and Maliah

  To my son-in-law, Will

  To my dad, Calvin Sr.

  To my brothers and sisters: Calvin Jr., Michael, Jennifer, Gloria,

  Wayne, Mark, and DeShone

  To my nieces and nephews who are too numerous to name

  Family is what we are; family is all we have . . .

  I love you.

  One

  Sweat covered her face like molasses on a hot-buttered biscuit. The contractions were coming every two minutes and the pain in her pelvic region was almost too much to bear. Margo’s swollen brown body lay on its back, her legs spread apart, obliging the commands of the doctor as she readied herself to bring forth her babies into the world.

  She had to be out of her mind to decline the epidural that would have made this delivery less painful. Maybe she forgot that she was in her forties and that child bearing should’ve been left to the younger women who had a lot of elasticity in their bodies, who weren’t facing menopause, and who had loving husbands to hold their hands and help them through their labor with the information they learned in Lamaze classes.

  It had been two hours since her water broke and left a trail of liquid streaking down each leg as if in a race to the finish line. She had to take another shower and then call an ambulance because there was no man in her life to whisk her away to the hospital, although the large pouch on her body that was carrying twins said somebody had stopped by and paid a visit. Yes, that was true, but she hadn’t a clue as to who her babies’ daddy was—Jefferson or Malik.

  “Push,” Dr. Dixon ordered, her long sinewy-gloved fingers examining the cervix. “You’re almost there.”

  Margo pushed and took several deep breaths.

  Dr. Dixon twisted her head to the left, pushing a braid that had fallen from her meticulously wrapped bun away from her face. “Push again. The head is crowning.”

  On command, Margo gave it all she had and pushed again.

  “One more time,” Dr. Dixon said and added a little chuckle at the end. “You’re doing well.”

  Margo held on to the bed rails, the sweat continuing to pour down her face and other parts of her body. “One for the Father, two for the Son, three for the oooly ghost,” Margo said as the pain hit hard, then gave her release in a matter of seconds.

  “Congratulations, it’s a boy,” Dr. Dixon said, as the nurse cut the umbilical cord.

  “Waa, waa,” came the healthy sound of the newcomer who was quickly whisked away to be cleaned.

  “Margo, we’ve got one more. Let’s rock and roll, baby,” the doctor said.

  Margo pushed down again and stopped, her chest rising and falling as she inhaled and exhaled. She opened her mouth to say something, then squirmed as another pain made her blow air. Then she let go. “All right now, you need to come on out of there so Momma can get some rest. Momma’s tired.”

  “Come on, Margo,” Dr. Dixon admonished. “Give it all you’ve got, girl. It’s about to be over. Your baby’s twin wants access to the new world.”

  “All right, I’m ready.”

  “Here it comes. Yes, another baby boy!”

  Margo’s body relaxed as she heard the squeal of another tiny voice. Minutes later, two nurses rushed in, each carrying what seemed to Margo to be gifts wrapped in thin, white blankets, bundled up as if they were about to travel to the arctic North. In turn, each nurse held the bundles of joy in front of Margo for her to view. They were beautiful with heads full of black, straight hair, wrapped in swaddling clothes like Jesus, and sucking on their fingers.

  Margo beamed. She couldn’t tell who her boys looked like. They were angelic in
every way, both getting ready to cry for mother’s milk. Margo closed her eyes, and it was Jefferson she saw—her beloved husband, her soon to be ex-husband, her former lover and friend. She batted her eyes, and there was Malik—her confidant, her shoulder to lean on when Jefferson was away in prison, the man she gave her body to when she thought her husband was being unfaithful . . . again.

  The movie screen in her subconscious faded to black, and when she opened her eyes, there stood the nurses still holding her babies. “I can’t do this right now,” Margo said. “Give me some time.”

  Two

  Margo sat up in her four-poster queen bed in her exquisite City Cottage residence at North Hills, reviewing the last years of her life and contemplating what her outlook for the future would be. She had raised four children whose personalities were as different as night and day, suffered through her husband’s infidelity and incarceration, and when it seemed clear that her life, which had taken some critical turns, was headed for recovery, her life had somehow completely bottomed out.

  At forty-five years old, Margo felt trapped. Her life should’ve been uncomplicated because all of her hard work had paid off and provided dividends that would allow her to cruise on Easy Street and even quit the job that made her rich and independent. Real Estate had been Margo’s forte for the last twenty-five years and because of it, she had received numerous awards and been dubbed the Real Estate Queen. And this was how she was able to afford her new lavish lifestyle on her own, without the husband who’d been a part of her life for just as many and then some years. But she was independent and alone to raise two babies . . . two baby boys whose father’s identity was unknown.

  “Waaa, waaa, waaa.”

  Margo listened as her boys crooned out the Waaa, Waaa song in chorus. It was hard for her to fathom that at this stage in her life she’d be changing diapers and preparing formula for her own children, although she had already tagged one breast Ian and the other Evan. It was easier in the wee hours of the morning to give the twins her breasts when they tried to act as if they’d never been fed.

  Neither of her four elder children had given her a grandchild or spoken of walking down the aisle, although walking down the aisle should come before having children. Her current life with the twins might have to suffice.

  “I’m coming,” Margo said out loud, although the babies continued to holler. She pulled her body to the edge of the bed and sat a moment, not in any hurry, and sought her bedroom slippers when it was apparent the boys were not taking a no-show for an answer.

  Although her master suite was on the first floor, she chose to stay in one of the three bedrooms on the second floor so she’d be close to the nursery where her babies slept. Two baby cribs, a dresser, and a dressing table occupied the room that was not yet decorated in fashionable baby attire. The walls were stark white with no cutesy baby appliqués to make the babies feel at home. A vintage rocking chair made out of walnut hugged a corner of the room.

  “Hi, sweeties,” Margo said in a soothing voice, as she reached down and scooped both of the little fellas up in her arms. “Mommy is here.” She kissed them both and smiled.

  The boys stopped crying; however, as soon as she laid Evan down to check his diaper, Ian began to cry. “Okay, Ian, Mommy is going to take care of you in a minute.”

  Margo changed both diapers, washed the babies’ faces, and stuck pacifiers in their mouths. She kissed them both again. “Mommy is going to run downstairs and get her doughnut so I can sit on my bottom. I’ll be back as quick as I can.” Margo retreated but turned around and returned to the cribs. “I love you both, although Mommy hadn’t made plans for you to be present in her life, especially not at this time.” She tickled their tummies; Evan cooed. “But God doesn’t make mistakes. For whatever reason you’re here in my life, at this place and time, and know that Mommy will always love you.”

  All of a sudden the alarm began to beep. Margo jerked her head around and then walked from the nursery into the hallway.

  “Mom, you should’ve been up a long time ago,” Winter shouted from the first floor, disarming the alarm. “Shame on you; it’s twelve-thirty.”

  “And you’re supposed to be at work and not trespassing in my house. I’m going to take that key away from you. What gives you the right to walk up in my house anytime you get good and ready, girl? The least you can do is ring the doorbell first.”

  “I took the rest of the day off. I’m here to help you with the babies.”

  “Well, good. I’m getting ready to feed them now.”

  “Mom, I have a visitor with me.”

  “Winter, please. You can’t waltz in here with a visitor without calling me first. I may not be presentable.”

  Margo stood in her bare feet on the hardwood floor in the foyer with her hair tousled and wearing her lavender silk lounger. “Why is the door open? Is that your brother with you?”

  A head appeared from behind the door, and Margo went into shock. It had been at least six months since she’d seen him last, but he looked good; in fact, damn good. His rugged good looks made her back up and run her hand over her hair in an effort to brush it down, and then she realized her headlights might be beaming too bright at the sight of him as his eyes seemed transfixed on the upper part of her body, specifically, the swell of her breasts. Margo let her eyes wander to the place that she willed herself to avoid, but she was weak, and when she looked, he was still packing the right size toolbox.

  “Hey, Margo,” Jefferson said in a deep, seductive voice, offering her a peace smile.

  “Uhh, Jefferson, hello,” she said in return, still caught in her trance. “You were the last person I expected to see.”

  After pushing her braids away from her face, Winter grabbed Jefferson’s hand and closed the front door. “Mom, I’m going to take Dad on a tour of the house. You don’t mind, do you?”

  “And what if I say I do? Would it matter?”

  Winter laughed. “Mom, it’s only Dad. He knows what you look like. He knows how you keep house—immaculate. How many years were the two of you married?”

  “You aren’t too old for me to whip that butt. And I want my key before you leave.”

  Jefferson smiled at the banter between mother and daughter.

  “Come on, Daddy; let me take you around. Go ahead and take care of the babies, Mom. We’ll be up in a minute.”

  Margo watched as Winter whisked her father away to check out her private abode. It made her smile to see that Winter and Jefferson got along so well, especially after what the family had been through. But Margo was going to give that girl a good talking to. She didn’t care how grown Winter thought she was, she wasn’t going to come up in her house and disrespect her—father or no father. But Margo understood that Winter was showing off so that Jefferson could see how well she’d done without him. Jefferson looked good, but her life with him was over. In three months, their divorce would be final.

  Three

  Jefferson’s eyes darted in and out, not missing a nook or cranny, as Winter gave him the grand tour of Margo’s new townhouse. He realized it cost a pretty penny. He had himself inquired about the purchase of one of the luxury condos in the same vicinity. It didn’t surprise Jefferson one bit that his soon-to-be ex-wife had opted for a place like this; after all, she’d worked hard and made the greenbacks to afford it. He wished Margo would let him advise her about the best financial portfolio that would suit her needs, but it was evident she didn’t need him.

  “Daddy, isn’t this kitchen to die for?” Winter said, waving her arm around as if she were in a showroom.

  “Uhm, hmm.”

  “Look at these top-of-the-line stainless steel appliances,” Winter went on, her hand gently brushing over the surface of the refrigerator, microwave and stove that appeared embedded into the wall. “And look, Daddy, a small, flat-screen TV on the door of the refrigerator.”

  “Isn’t that overkill? Doesn’t seem like Margo at all.”

  “Well, I did pick it out fo
r her. You know your woman; she didn’t want that mess. I figured if I was going to hang out at her house all the time, I wanted to have a few amenities of my own.”

  Jefferson looked at his daughter. “You are unreal, Winter, but I love you. And stop calling your mother, my woman. You know good and well that she discarded me like yesterday’s trash.”

  “That’s not fair, Daddy. If it weren’t for your drama, you and Mom would be a happily married couple.”

  “You need to tame that tongue of yours and remember I’m still your daddy. My advice? You need to save your money and get out of that dump you’re living in and purchase your own place.”

  “Okay, okay. I know my place. There’s something about this home I like, though. And I’ll probably be spending a lot of time here. Hear those babies crying up there?”

  Jefferson leaned against the granite countertop and sighed. “Why was it so urgent that I come with you today? Yes, you managed to surprise your mother, but it’s obvious she doesn’t want me here.”

  “Daddy, I didn’t think I had to lead you by the hand. Mom needs help. She has twins. Your children.”

  “How do you know they’re my babies?”

  “What are you talking about, Daddy?”

  “Just ponder the question. Now finish showing me the house. I need to be somewhere in an hour.”

  As if the question hadn’t been asked, Jefferson followed behind Winter as she continued her tour. “And this is the dining room.”

  “I’m happy that Margo has carved out her life the way she wants it to be.”

  “I don’t think it’s quite the way she wants it to be,” Winter said, pointing toward the ceiling to indicate Margo’s new additions to her family she was attending to upstairs.

  “As I’ve already said, she doesn’t want my help. And maybe that’s because I’m not those babies’ daddy.”

  Winter put her hand on her hip and stared at Jefferson. She loved him. Hated what he’d done to her mother in the past, but still she loved him. “Daddy, please. Don’t try and deny that my baby brothers aren’t yours. You’re only mad because Mom wanted a divorce when you thought that you all were going to be all right.”