HOW COULD YOU!
Chapter 1
John fixed his Tom Ford sunglasses hoping to hide his expression or lack of one. His black suit fit a little snugly today. John hated wearing black; he felt it was too limited in color or complimentary palettes. John was grateful it was not rainy today; Houston weather is unpredictable. John was happy that this was ending; pastor JB Whitlock led the homecoming service. Pastor Whitlock was known for his soul-rousing sermons, and today was no different, but it went on too long for John. Black Baptist preachers have an innate tendency to repeat themselves when the spirit fills the church. John wiped his brow of sweat. He stared at a young woman in a red dress and sunglasses across the cemetery grounds. Her oversized afro was a marker of her presence and confidence. The crowd of family and friends gradually dispersed as the casket descended to its final resting place. John's children - his daughter Jennifer and his son, Tyrone sat near the grave. Tyrone held his boyfriend's hand, crying against his shoulder. John had only met this fella a few times; John did not like the last boyfriend because he was a player. Tyrone was too nice; Jennifer sat alone; she seemed distant lately; she is so private sometimes. John struggled to anticipate her moods; no one knew her thoughts or feelings.
Jennifer acknowledged the young Black woman at the funeral reception. Jennifer was of average height with a round face wearing a black dress with a yellow scarf. Yellow was her mother's favorite color. John placed his plate of fried chicken, cole slaw with cranberries, and red beans on the nearest table to say hello. The woman turned away from Jennifer, saying, "Oh, hi, John. So sorry for your loss," she said.
"Hi, Victoria," John said, "Thank you for coming. You shouldn't have come."
"No, I wanted to be here to support you and your family," Victoria said. She pointed to a tall man whose nose and cheeks resembled the deceased. "Is that your son," Victoria asked. "He's cute. He looks just like you."
The following morning, John sat on the edge of the bed; he looked over his shoulder at Victoria, who was still asleep. He had forgotten Victoria was a hard sleeper. Between sexual interplay, Victoria responded that she wore a red dress to be supportive; red was Mildred's favorite color. The sun's rays gently exposed her feminine shoulder. This morning, John saw how close Victoria was in age to Jennifer. John's role as VP of Marketing and Sales for an elevator manufacturer forced him to travel, which ignited their relationship. John was used to hotel romps in Vegas and Mami with Victoria; she recently started complaining that John was not being fair to her. John washed his face; he wondered if he should have let Victoria spend the night. It was his house; he could do what he wanted. John heard the door open. "Daddy," Jennifer said. John walked out, meeting Jennifer in the hallway. "I wanted to check on you," Jennifer said, handing him a cup of coffee. John noticed Jennifer's eyes were puffy. "I'm fine," John responded.
"Daddy, I put three creams and no sugar in your coffee," Jennifer said. "I was coming over to check on you."
"I'm fine. Thank you."
Jennifer noticed her mother's photo was missing from the fireplace mantel. Jennifer looked all around. "Dad, we just buried mama yesterday. Where are mama's pictures?" John decided to answer. "I'm surprised you are so," Jennifer paused, looking around, at a loss for words, "I don't know. Happy."
"We all grieve differently," John replied. "I miss your mother. We were married for nearly forty years."
"John." A voice called out from the back bedroom. Jennifer's eyes widen. John stared at Jennifer; he could feel Victoria's presence walking up behind him. Jennifer's face became flushed with anger. "Victoria," Jennifer screamed, "What are you doing here? Is this why you've been returning my calls?"
"You two know each other," John asked. Victoria adjusted the tie around her robe. "Baby, get me some coffee," Victoria said, looking at John, slapping his ass playfully. "Hi, Victoria."