Trouble Down The Road. Bettye Griffin

a fabulous lover. She thought he might be good because he was so fit and trim, but because he’d been past fifty, it came as a pleasant surprise to find out just how good.

      That was one bright spot in her marriage to Errol. His sexual appetite was as voracious as hers, and the action in their bedroom was never boring. But in every other way he was all wrong. He’d even suggested to her that she go back to work to take her mind off of her inability to get pregnant.

      She chuckled at the irony. That inability was pure fiction. She could probably get knocked up faster than a person could say “nine months.” The unexpected pregnancy from one incidence of a torn condom attested to that. She simply made up fertility woes so that Errol, who wanted children, would keep her at home longer.

      He’d begun to show a little impatience with the situation lately, though, and she couldn’t blame him. She was only thirty, but Errol was thirty-eight. They hadn’t been trying for their entire marriage, but for at least half of it. Lately he’d expressed that they should begin a workup to investigate the problem. Errol was a good guy, and Micheline knew she wasn’t being fair to him. She reasoned that it would be even less fair for her to have his babies feeling the way she did. If it weren’t for the occasional social event at Cécile’s that Errol insisted they go to, she would never even see the baby girl she gave birth to three years ago. It satisfied Micheline to know the child, who’d been named Brianna, was being raised by loving parents in a good home.

      Micheline knew she wouldn’t be able to string Errol along forever. The time had come to find a new husband, one who wouldn’t object to a little clothes buying on her part, and one who already had kids—kids who lived with their mother and wouldn’t get in the way, of course—and didn’t want any more. Her gut told her that the still handsome and sexy Brad Betancourt was a prime candidate.

      She smiled dreamily at the invitation. Brad was about to turn fifty himself. Something told her his bedroom skills were every bit as sharp as Vic Bellamy’s.

      Micheline intended to do everything in her power to find out.

      All she had to do was get rid of Suzanne.

      Chapter 4

      Suzanne surveyed the public areas of the house. Much to her annoyance, her regular housekeeper, Teresita, was off for the week. Not only did Teresita know the house better than anyone, but she did an excellent job. A local agency specializing in housekeepers had sent a temporary replacement, but the woman was slow moving and missed a lot of areas. She’d come in three times this week, and each time Suzanne had to point out to her that the tables were streaked and that there were still spots on the tiled floor. Unfortunately, this same woman would be on duty for tonight’s party.

      Suzanne sighed wearily at the prospect. She’d offered to pay Teresita double time if she’d come in and work the night of the party, but her longtime housekeeper refused. Of all the lousy luck that Brad’s birthday fell on the same weekend as the double celebration Teresita and her husband were hosting for their two children, who had just graduated from high school and college, respectively. They had family members coming in from all over the state to join in the festivities. Suzanne supposed she couldn’t blame Teresita for turning her down. Two graduations was a big deal for any family. She just wished they were having their party some other weekend.

      At least it looked like Teresita’s substitute finally got it right this time, Suzanne thought with satisfaction when she failed to notice anything amiss. Maybe she could relax a bit before starting to dress.

      She turned to go to her bedroom, then made a last-minute detour into the kitchen, where her friend Paula Haines was busy with food preparation. “You okay in here?” she asked.

      “Fine. I love working in your kitchen, girl. It’s a cook’s dream.”

      Paula wore a tank top, sweatpants, and flip-flops. Her long hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and her forehead was covered with a thin sheen of perspiration. Suzanne knew from other events Paula had catered for them that she would slip away after her staff arrived to change and apply makeup. She’d emerge looking like a guest. But it was warm in the kitchen, with numerous pots going on five burners and the oven on as well. The granite countertops were covered with bowls of chopped onion and peppers, spice jars, stoneware, different types of drinking glasses, and cookbooks.

      “Good. Um…Paula, I’m sorry it didn’t work out with Kenya.” Paula had offered to pay Suzanne’s younger sister to help her with the prep work, but Kenya canceled at the last minute, claiming she didn’t feel well.

      “No problem. Everything’s gotten done.”

      Suzanne appreciated Paula’s cheerfulness, but she still felt bad about her sister’s behavior. Kenya would attend the party with her boyfriend in a few hours, showing no signs of illness, and Paula knew it. Sometimes she wondered if anyone was as lazy as her little sister. “Listen, it’s five-thirty. I’m going to go chill with Brad for a while. Holler if you need anything.”

      “Will do.” Paula’s shoulders and hips swayed to the CD she had playing in a small boom box perched on the kitchen counter.

      Suzanne wore a smile as she walked toward the master bedroom. It was pretty funny that she and Paula had become such good friends, considering all the intertwined relationships already in existence. Paula had been previously married to Suzanne’s next-door neighbor Darrell Canfield and was the mother of their daughter, Devon. Darrell was now married to Brad’s first wife, Lisa, and stepfather to Lisa’s daughter with Brad, Paige Betancourt.

      Unlike Suzanne, Paula had no issues with Lisa. Lisa had helped Darrell raise Devon, who was just three months younger than Paige. Paula left Devon in the care of her father and stepmother while she embarked on an ultimately unsuccessful second marriage in Texas. She’d never said much about it, but Suzanne sensed that relations between mother and daughter had been strained ever since.

      Even more ironic than Suzanne’s friendship with Paula was the genuine friendship that formed between Brad and Darrell. It seemed unheard of to Suzanne that two men who’d both been married to the same woman could go out fishing or watch sports on TV together. She wondered if Lisa found it as bizarre as she did.

      Suzanne entered the bedroom to find Brad napping in the down-stuffed chair in their bedroom, his feet resting on the matching ottoman, the television tuned in to an NBA semifinal game. Even in repose he looked dashingly handsome, with streaks of gray mixed in the dark brown hair on his head, as well as in his mustache and neatly trimmed goatee.

      She bent and gently brushed her lips against his cheek. He didn’t stir. She tried again, this time tracing his lips with her tongue.

      His eyes slowly opened. “That you, Suzie Q?” he asked sleepily.

      “It better be,” she replied with feigned indignation.

      “What time is it?”

      “Going on six.”

      “Mmm. I really knocked out.”

      “You don’t have to get up yet,” she said quickly. “Unless you want to move to the bed. You’re going to be fifty in a few hours. I was hoping to get one more chance to make love to you before that happens, just in case you lose it.”

      He pulled her on top of him. “I’ll be just as good at fifty as I am at forty-nine.”

      “Prove it,” she challenged.

      Half an hour later they lay sweaty and satiated in bed. “Well, there’s no doubt that you’ve still got it,” she said. “Now I can’t wait for midnight.”

      “At midnight we’ll have a house full of guests, so you can forget about that. But don’t worry. I’m not ready for Viagra yet.”

      “I’m not worried,” Suzanne said confidently. “I’m going to take a catnap and refresh myself before I start getting ready. And, Brad—”

      “Hmm?” He was already dozing off.

      “I love you,”