Ladies' Night Andrews, Kay (great novels .txt) 📖

While they batted ideas around, Camryn was busily typing away on her iPhone. “I’ve got the Florida judiciary Web site here,” she announced, thumbing down the page. “Gimme a minute. Okay, here it is. Cedric Norris Stackpole, age fifty-one. B.A., University of Florida, 1980. J.D., University of Florida, 1983. Appointed to the bar, 2000.” She looked up. “Wow, a judge at forty. That’s impressive, even if he isn’t.” She scrolled a little more. “Married, 1999, to the former Eileen Bolther of Kissimmee.”

“Bolther? Why is that name familiar?” Suzanne asked.

“If she’s a Bolther and she’s from Kissimmee, she must be related to Sawyer Bolther. As in Bolther Groves and Bolther Beef. Two of the biggest cattle and citrus growers in Florida. Not to mention Bolther Bank and Trust,” Camryn said.

“How do you know all this stuff?” Ashleigh asked.

“I’m a reporter. I don’t know it off the top of my head, but I get paid to know how to find it out,” Camryn said. “I covered the last three governor’s races, and, as I recall, Sawyer Bolther was one of the biggest campaign contributors to that last joker we elected. So that gives you an idea how ol’ Cedric got named a judge at the ripe old age of forty. His wife’s family is politically connected.”

“What about Paula?” Suzanne asked. “I’m a little curious about her, I have to admit. She’s such an enigma. After those first two sessions, I’d written her off as a total fraud, or at least a deeply troubled person with some kind of substance-abuse issues. But tonight?” She looked around the table for consensus. “She actually said a couple things that I thought made sense.”

“Like what?” Wyatt asked. “I mean, I’m not disagreeing.”

“I can’t quote her directly,” Suzanne said, flustered. “It was something about taking the time to figure out what went wrong with our marriages, putting blame aside, and just, you know, taking a look at what the problems really were.”

“Wasn’t the fact that everybody’s husband or wife cheated on them the big, overriding problem?” Rochelle asked.

“A problem? Or maybe a symptom?”

All heads turned toward Grace. She shrugged. “I don’t know anything. I probably know the least about marriage of anybody here. I thought my marriage was just peachy, until it all went up in flames. I’m not saying I want Ben back. If I ever did before, the things he’s done since I left have opened my eyes to the kind of person he is. I keep wondering how I didn’t see the real him.”

“Sometimes, maybe we do see the real person, but we convince ourselves that we can live with him, or somehow change him, just by loving him enough,” Rochelle said.

Grace stared. Where had this come from? And why did Rochelle keep hanging around?

“Dexter changed, once he had a taste of success, once he got into politics,” Camryn said. “In college, when he was at Morehouse, and I was at Spelman, he wrote poetry! Yes, he did. He was this shy, skinny, geeky mama’s boy. Not anybody I ever would have taken a second look at. But one of my sorority sisters was dating his roommate, and she begged me to go out with him, as a favor so the two of them could get some privacy on a Friday night. I asked him to a mixer, and it turned out the guy could dance. I mean, dance! Later on, he admitted he’d been watching Michael Jackson videos for years, learning his moves. I thought that was so sweet. You know? That’s the Dexter I fell in love with. He had ideals. He wanted to change the world.”

Camryn sipped her drink. “I don’t know him now. Obviously.”

“Would any of you take your husbands—or wives—back, if they wanted to come back?” Ashleigh asked.

The table got very quiet. “I’d take Boyce back,” Ashleigh volunteered. “But, I mean, there’d have to be some changes. For one thing, I’d go back to managing his practice. Some men you just have to keep on a short leash. I know he doesn’t love that tramp he’s seeing. She’s not even his type! I’ve learned my lesson, I’ll tell you that.” She grinned mischeviously and leaned forward. “I’ll tell you something else, too. When he comes back—I’ll be a lot more adventurous. In the bedroom, you know? Keep him guessing.”

Grace felt herself blushing. She’d just met these people. There was no way she’d ever talk about her and Ben’s love life—especially with her mother sitting right there!

Ashleigh pointed at Camryn. “How about you? If Dexter wanted you back—would you do it?”

“Oh, hell to the no,” Camryn said. “How could I respect myself if I took him back? I know what a sleaze he is. Jana’s sad about us breaking up, but I want her to know, as a black woman, she needs to have some standards. I don’t want her settling for second-rate, or thinking it’s okay for some brother to cheat on her and degrade her. Besides? He’s been dipping his pen in a lot of ink. And I know Dexter. I know he wasn’t wearing a condom for any of those close encounters. Who knows what kind of diseases he might be carrying around?” She shuddered. “We hadn’t been sleeping together for months anyway, but just to be sure I got myself tested as soon as I saw that little DVD of his. Somehow, I got lucky. Everything tested negative.”

“How about you, Wyatt?” Camryn asked pointedly. “You’ve been pretty quiet all these sessions.”

“Yeah,” Ashleigh agreed. “I’d just looove to know how it feels when the shoe is on the other foot.”

Wyatt’s face colored. “You don’t think women cheat on their husbands? Look, it’s different with me.”

“Because you’ve got a penis? And choices?” Camryn asked.

“Because I’ve got a six-year-old son to raise,” Wyatt half stood, obviously roused. “I’ve got to put my kid first, and myself second.”

“What if you didn’t have a kid? Or what if she broke up with the other guy?” Ashleigh