The Perfect Mistress by Reshonda Tate Billingsley

back. Letting go of Callie, he said, “Don’t blame her.” His eyes pleaded for Joyce to keep her at bay.
    â€œYeah, don’t blame her,” Callie sneered, as if she were part of this family.
    Vernon turned to her and this time without laying a hand on her, he just growled. “Get the hell out of my house.”
    It was enough to make her recoil. She took several steps back. But then she stood up straight and squared her shoulders. “Fine. I’m leaving,” she said as if leaving were her idea. “But you better believe you haven’t seen the end of me. I’ll be damned if you toy with my heart and think it’s okay.”
    With a final sneer at Joyce and a good-bye smile to Lauren, Callie stormed out. In the void that her whirlwind left behind, Vernon spoke. “Let me explain.”
    Before he could finish, Joyce jumped on him and clawed at his face. Lauren screamed. Every ounce worth of rage, all the years of pent-up anger, was unleashed on her husband that night. She didn’t want to stop until he was dead. She wouldn’t stop until she no longer felt anything inside.

N ow she was stuck between two women filled with rage.
    Lauren was sure of that fact when Miss Callie showed up at their front door. Lauren knew that was a no-no. Miss Callie knew it, too.
    Miss Callie was fed up and truly tired of waiting. And now, judging from the fight that Lauren’s parents were having, Miss Callie might soon get her wish.
    â€œI want you out!” her mother had screamed after jumping on her father’s back. She’d clawed him like an alley cat in the midst of a fight. Vernon had done everything to keep her blows at bay.
    He’d wrestled her off and now she was leaning against the wall, crying, her chest heaving. “I’m done. I’m so, so done.”
    â€œFine,” he said, heading to grab his keys off the bar. “You want me out, I’m out.”
    But before he could reach them, Joyce dove and snatched them up.
    â€œYou’re not going to her!”
    He stopped and gritted his teeth, exasperated. “You told me to get out. That’s what I’m doing.”
    â€œNo, we’re going to finish this first,” she sobbed. “You’regoing to admit to all the whores you’ve been with. Then you can leave for good.”
    â€œI’m not admitting to anything,” he said defiantly.
    â€œHave you been bringing my daughter around that bitch?”
    â€œI don’t want to do this,” he replied. “Not in front of Lauren. Give me my keys.”
    She picked up a vase and hurled it at him. He ducked. It smashed against a cabinet door and shattered into a hundred pieces all over the counter and the tile floor. “See, this is what I’m talking about. I’m not talking to you while you’re irrational!” he yelled.
    â€œAnswer me!” she screamed.
    â€œAnd tell you what? That I’ve been seeing her? Yes, you know the answer to that. Hell, you tracked me down at her place. I’m sorry. It’s just that I can’t deal with this,” he said, motioning around to all of the broken shards of the vase. “I can’t deal with you and your craziness. If you’re not going crazy, you’re depressed. It’s just too much.”
    â€œSo, you admit to it?” A maniacal laugh crossed her face.
    He was totally fed up. “We’ll have a conversation when you calm down. Give me my keys.”
    He tried to snatch the keys from her. They struggled as Lauren remained frozen. In the midst of their scuffle, the keys slid across the floor and stopped right in front of Lauren’s feet. Instinctively, she reached down and picked up the keys.
    Vernon was pushing his wife off him as he said, “Give me the keys, Lauren.”
    â€œYou better not give those keys to him!” her mother screamed.
    â€œLauren, you see that your mother is acting a fool.”