NOTHING STAYS THE SAME Page 2

  “Shut up and let us in,” Claudette said, giving Rachel air kisses on both cheeks.

  “Hi, Auntie Rachel,” Reagan said without coaxing.

  “Hey, sweetie. Your mommy got your hair all fixed up pretty, and you’re so beautiful. I bet you hear that all the time.”

  “Yes,” Reagan replied.

  “Y’all come on in. Sylvia,” Rachel shouted, “it’s Mrs. Bourgeoisie and her hairdresser, packing two more children.”

  “Look who’s talking, Claudette,” Mona said as they made their way into the living room. “Got some nerve to call anybody bourgeoisie. These Fortune 500 wives don’t do nothing but sit on their butts all day watching stories, buying up stuff on the shopping network, and got their maids cleaning the mansions their husbands bought them. Poor children are going to grow up spoiled.”

  “Just like, Ickelmay Uniorjay,” Sylvia said as she entered the room with Kenny Jr. and Serena. Everyone laughed.

  “Well, it looks like someone is having a birthday in here,” Claudette said.

  “Yeah, enough balloons to make you feel like you’re right at the fair.” Mona giggled. “Kenny Jr. sure is loved.”

  “Nothing too good for my baby boy. Outside, we’ve got clowns, face painting, you name it. But you know how it is since you all have children. So how are my girls doing? Group hug.”

  They drew to each other as if the air was sucked from the middle. Their lives had become entangled—a single common denominator had brought them together. Not so long ago, each had been divorced, distraught, and then desperate to repair their torn lives that needed mending in the worst kind of way.

  “Hey, that felt great,” Rachel said softly, not wanting to break from the warmth of their nestling together.

  “Yeah, it did,” Claudette rang in. “Sylvia, I didn’t know you could sling some pig Latin.”

  “Hey, I still got it,” Sylvia said. High-fives went around the room.

  “Well, how do you like my hair?” Mona chimed in. “Claudette wasn’t down with cutting my dreads, ’cuz she says she’s never cutting hers.”

  “I think your bobbed look is simply elegant, Mona,” Sylvia said. “Turn around and let me look at you.” Mona did a twirl in the middle of the floor. Michael Jr. giggled. “Can’t tell that a baby’s been in that belly. You’re still lean and mean and still got those boobs to go with your bob.”

  “Yeah, baby,” Mona said. “Michael loves up on these twins every chance he gets.”

  Everyone laughed including the children, although they didn’t know why the adults were laughing so hard.

  “Mommy, your turn,” Kenny Jr. coaxed Sylvia. Everyone laughed again.

  “Naw. I didn’t lose all my baby fat, but Kenny Sr. loves me just the way I am.”

  “Just stay away from the ice cream bowl,” Rachel said to Sylvia who gave Rachel the eye.

  “Like I said,” Mona added, “you and Rachel need to get up off them things you sit on all day long and do a good days work. That’ll keep you fit, although I don’t think Rachel ever gains an ounce of anything.”

  “No not an ounce,” Rachel said as she took her turn to twirl around. “My husband loves his chocolate diva and we do more than I can say out loud to keep physically fit.”

  Serena clapped her hands.

  “That’s right, clap for Mommy, Serena.” Everyone laughed.

  “Well, I guess it’s my turn,” Claudette mumbled. “But instead of twirling around, I’ve got something I want to tell you.” She winked at Mona and flung one of her braids off of her shoulder. “I’ve stopped smoking, for three whole months.”

  “Oh my God,” Sylvia and Rachel said in unison and cupped their hands to their mouths. “That’s so wonderful, Claudette; I’m so happy for you,” Sylvia said, her eyes widened in shock.

  “Yes,” Rachel echoed.

  “Now Reagan can have a smoke-free environment to live in,” Mona added.

  “What about the rest of my family?” Claudette questioned.

  “And of course, the rest of Claudette’s clan, although they’re used to it because they’ve been inundated with secondhand smoke for years.”

  “We’re happy for you, Claudette,” Sylvia said again.

  “Mommy, Mommy,” Kenny Jr. whined.

  “What is it, sweetie?” Sylvia asked.

  “What about my birthday party?”

  “Of course, baby. Today is your day. As soon as the other children get here, we will go outside and have some fun.”

  “Yeah,” Kenny Jr. shouted.

  Sylvia looked at Kenny Jr. as he ran off to join Serena, Reagan, and Michael Jr. “My handsome guy will be three years old on Monday.”

  “He looks, just like Kenny Sr.,” Mona said. “He’s so handsome.”

  “I think all the kids look like their fathers,” Sylvia said. “Serena looks like Marvin and Michael Jr. looks like Michael.”

  “Except Reagan,” Claudette butted in. “She looks so much like her mother, Ashley. But she’s got William’s hair. I’m so glad Ashley let me adopt her. It would hurt to know that Reagan was with Ashley’s family and they didn’t treat her well.”

  “To think you and Ashley didn’t get along in the beginning,” Rachel put in.

  “Well, it’s good that she has a good friend in me. Ashley’s been asking about you guys. She was right there in the beginning when we formed our support group. It hasn’t been that long ago that we were all in need of some healing because our men had left us. It hurts because Ashley didn’t have to kill William to get away from him.”

  “It’s unfortunate,” Sylvia said. “The signs were probably there, but we failed to see them.”

  “I don’t know what signs were there that we didn’t see,” Mona chided. “I didn’t think Ashley had it in her to kill a big ole Mandingo like William.”

  Rachel laughed, and Claudette stared back. “It’s not funny.”

  “Come on, Claudette,” Rachel said. “Don’t be so sensitive.”

  Claudette rolled her eyes, then looked at her friends. “You need to go to the prison to see her. And don’t sit and look at me like you’re stupid and didn’t comprehend a word I said, because you’re guilty.”

  “We got it, Claudette!” Mona said. “Now let’s get little Kenny’s party started. Put on some music so I can dance.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Kenny Richmond slipped through a side doorway off the garage and into the hallway that joined the kitchen and a set of back stairs that led to the second floor. He walked with a cell phone up to his ear and a briefcase in the other hand. Loud music met his ears and he frowned, telling the caller to wait a minute while he investigated. He had expected to walk into a house full of children who had come bearing gifts for his little boy’s birthday, not all of his wife’s girlfriends getting their party on. But what was a party, even a kid’s party, without Sylvia’s girls?

  “Look, man,” Kenny said to the caller, “I’ll get back with you on that stock. I feel pretty good about it. Talk with you later.”

  Kenny closed his cell and thought about where he wanted to take Thomas and Richmond Tecktronics, Inc. His partnership with Marvin was a match made in heaven, and between the two of them, they had amassed a small fortune. It had grown from a medium-sized business to a Fortune 500 company and from five to over one hundred employees.

  When Marvin Thomas founded the company some nine or so years ago, he was involved in the sale of high-tech computer programs. Now they were a multi-million-dollar company with their own technicians, some of them imported straight from Silicon Valley, who designed sophisticated computer programs and systems, video games, and educational resources. They were also sellers of quality computer systems, personal and portable, with a highly skilled sales force that were spread out globally and had infiltrated a network of large conglomerates to become a viable competitor in the marketplace. Kenny liked that Marvin gave him the space and latitude to handle things in his own way. After all, they were both laughing, running, and grinning
all the way to the bank.

  Making money and closing high-stakes deals had become Kenny’s mission, along with keeping the woman who gave his life new meaning happy. For the moment, he’d push his wheeling and dealing to the side so he could enjoy his son’s birthday party. Kenny adored little Kenny and counted him among the greatest gifts his wife, Sylvia, had given him.

  He ran up the stairs and dropped the briefcase in his office that looked like an electronics showroom. Scattered around the wall were small shelves that held video games that he and others had invented, MP3 players, DVD players, wireless notebooks, and other handheld electronic devices. Home speaker systems were strategically placed in several locations. Kenny’s desk was made of a high-resin, clear acrylic and held a PC system with all the bells and whistles a three-gigabyte computer could hold.

  With reckless abandon, Kenny plowed through a stack of papers that were on his desk, hoping to find a list of figures he’d jotted down for a proposal he was working on. Not finding what he was looking for, Kenny walked the few feet to the door that led into the hallway connecting the master bedroom and his office. On each side of the hallway were his-and-her walk-in closets.

  The master bedroom was painted a matte gold with an off-white ceiling tray in the center of the room that boasted a large crystal chandelier. Occupying one of the walls was a bronze and gold fireplace that extended from the floor to the middle of the wall. A brass mirror with floral etchings running along its base hung overhead. A king-size cherrywood sleigh bed sat in the middle of the room accompanied by two nightstands on either side, a large chest of drawers, and a three-drawer armoire that housed a flat-screen television. A small, round cherrywood table accompanied by two high-back chairs sat under a beveled glass window that provided a view of the orchard behind their yard. A sliding door led from their room onto the second-story balcony.

  Kenny’s walk-in closet was almost as large as Sylvia’s. His designer suits hung on the top rack along one wall, while his casual leisure suits took up space on the bottom. Long and short-sleeved shirts, polo shirts for playing golf, and easy lying-around shirts littered the opposite wall above his slacks, the expensive and not so expensive, which hung underneath. The middle wall showcased Kenny’s collection of shoes. In the center of the room was a red plush chair that sat next to a built-in set of drawers that held all of Kenny’s sweaters.

  He settled on a yellow polo shirt that accentuated the color of his dark skin and a pair of brown slacks. Next he went into the spacious octagon-shaped bathroom with mirrors on three quarters of the walls. A Roman tub sat elegantly against a sea of floral and candle embellishments that were Sylvia’s handiwork, underneath a window that was shaped like a half-circle. Kenny brushed his teeth and smiled when he looked in the mirror. “Man, you’ve come a long way.” Last he splashed on some Karl Lagerfeld, his wife’s favorite cologne ever since the day he walked back into her life.

  After a last glance in the stand-alone mirror that sat to one side in the bedroom, Kenny dashed down the stairs and out into the three-car garage. Off to the side was an orange, kid-sized Hummer that was so true to life it came with its own motor. Kenny Jr. had been talking about it for days, ever since Michael Jr. said his dad was getting him one for his birthday. Kenny lifted the garage door and moved the car outside to the front lawn and around the side near the clown setup. There was no need to put a bow on it. Just seeing it would make Kenny Jr. go wild.

  Kenny ducked back through the garage and into the house to surprise his son. As he approached the living room from the dining room, he heard the women talking and stood behind the door listening to their antics while he laughed to himself.

  “Rachel, stop acting like you were born with a silver spoon in your mouth,” Mona quipped. “You may be sitting on your ‘a’ double ‘s’ now, but I’m sure you remember how good BellSouth was to you before...when you couldn’t keep a husband.”

  “Mona, no need for you to talk, sitting up in that mansion of yours with Dr. Michael Broussard and all that he lavishes upon you.”

  “That’s right, but even though my husband is who he is, I still have my catering business and my elite clientele has grown with it. I’m not satisfied with just being Michael Broussard’s wife and concubine, I’m also an icon, and together we are a force to be reckoned with. In fact, I will be catering a big event next weekend that will encompass some of the oldest money in Atlanta. It’s a fundraising dinner for Democratic presidential candidate Barack Obama, but I tell you that deals will be made in back rooms to the tune of several million dollars.”

  Rachel sighed. “Well, that’s your life. I can’t help that Sylvia and I are the wives of the two most important people in Atlanta and we’ve got it like this. And we don’t care anything about your big party. Don’t look at me like that, Mona. You started it.”

  “Hold up; enough of this,” Sylvia chimed as Mona zoned in for the attack. “This is Kenny Jr.’s birthday party. We’re going to open up presents in a few minutes. I’m trying to wait for Kenny Sr.”

  Kenny pushed open the dining room door as if on cue. “Surprise, everybody. Where’s the birthday boy?”

  “Daddy, Daddy,” Kenny Jr. shouted upon hearing his father’s voice. Kenny Jr. ran to his dad, who picked him up.

  “Happy birthday, son. Daddy and Mommy have a special birthday treat for you.”

  “Yeah!” Kenny Jr. shouted.

  “Were you listening to our conversation?” Sylvia said accusingly, her hands on her hips.

  “Well, I wouldn’t mind securing a spot on the guest list for that party Mona was talking about,” Kenny said, giving Mona a wink. “Sounds like a place I’d like to be. Well, I see that the gang is all here. Mona, Claudette, Rachel, ladies.”

  “Hey, Kenny,” they all said in unison.

  “You all were having some kind of heavy conversation up in here. I was waiting for my wife to say how much she loved her husband and wanted to be alone with him.” He laughed.

  “Ooooooooooh,” Mona crowed.

  “I like that in a man,” Claudette said, getting tickled as she watched Kenny undress Sylvia with his eyes.

  With a quick stroke, Sylvia raised her hand and moved it forward as if she was getting ready to throw something. “No, Kenny, we aren’t going to start that up again.” She gave him a sly wink. “How many times do I have to tell you people that it’s my baby’s birthday? Next time, no adults will be allowed to stay.” The ladies laughed, then calmed down.

  “You’re right, Sylvia,” Rachel said finally. “Let’s celebrate.”

  Kenny put Kenny Jr. down on the floor.

  “Okay, kids,” Sylvia said, “We’re going outside. Some of the other kids are just now arriving. We’re going to sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to Kenny Jr.”

  Everyone filed out of the house and into the yard that was decorated with red, yellow, and blue balloons. Little stations were set up for face painting, tattoos, and a space for the kids to sit and listen to clown jokes. The clown was six feet tall, and his face was painted white with red freckles. His hair was strawberry red, and a large red button nose sat in the middle of his face. He wore a clown outfit similar to Ronald McDonald’s. A large sheet cake that was made in the likeness of Superman, Kenny Jr.’s favorite superhero, sat alone on a table. Hot dogs, potato chips, and punch sat at another station waiting to be served.

  Kenny Jr. didn’t even see the clown; he ran straight to the orange Hummer and got in. Sylvia raised her hand over her mouth, looked at Kenny Sr., and grinned. He did it again. Kenny Sr. never failed to make his son happy.

  Other parents and their children made a ring around Kenny Jr. as he sat in his Hummer. Little Kenny waved to everyone until Sylvia finally coaxed him out of the car. Again, Sylvia threw her hands up in the air and moved her arms like a maestro directing an orchestra. “One, two, and three. Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday Kenny Jr., happy birthday to you.”

  Serena, Reagan, and Michael Jr. sang along with the adults
and other children. “Let’s open your gifts, Kenny,” Sylvia said.

  “Yeah,” little Kenny shouted again. Sylvia gave him a large red and yellow bag with a giraffe on it from Serena. Little Kenny reached inside and pulled out a toy fire truck. Kenny was so excited. Aunt Rachel had also stuffed several cute shirt-and-pants sets in the bag. Then Kenny tore the birthday paper with all the balloons on it from the next gift, from Michael Jr. It was a model Hummer that Kenny Sr. was going to have to help Kenny Jr. assemble. Next was Reagan’s gift. Kenny Jr.’s eyes got wide as he examined the X-Box video games. Reagan smiled.

  After all the gifts were opened, the children ate and got their faces painted and listened to the clown who made them laugh the rest of the afternoon. Kenny went to Sylvia and kissed her. “Good job, Mrs. Richmond.”

  “Good job yourself, Mr. Richmond. You never cease to amaze me. When did you get that car for little Kenny?”

  “When you weren’t looking.” They laughed and Kenny kissed Sylvia on the lips while he squeezed one of her healthy buttocks. “I love you, Mrs. Richmond. And I always will.”

  “Through the storm and the rain,” Sylvia said, “I’ll be by your side.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Marvin Thomas sat in his office ruminating on the advice he had received from his friend and attorney, Cecil Coleman. The weight of the world had fallen heavy on his shoulders, and even with the best advice, he wasn’t sure what to do. Just this morning, he noticed gray strands running through his head faster than the speed of light.

  He was at the beginning of a fight for his life, his livelihood, and his family. Hanging on the walls in his office were commendations and awards that he and TTTS, now Thomas and Richmond Tecktronics, Inc., had garnered over the years for being a reputable and new-age company. They were in competition with some of the largest white-owned companies in the U.S. and abroad, and they had been able to stand their ground.

  Now someone wanted to eliminate the competition, them, namely; Thomas and Richmond. It would take everything they owned to fight the merger that was sure to take place, displacing him and Kenny in the end. Marvin had yet to tell Kenny about the warning signs and the flagrant attempts to manipulate them into giving in. Kenny would not understand—he had invested a lot in the company, and to hear him tell it, this was the happiest Kenny had ever been.