night, Carolyn fell into a fitful sleep. When she awoke the next day, she had a different thought. She’d decided to call Ernest. When she called, Ernest officially asked her out on a date. Carolyn couldn’t believe it. He sounded so excited to hear from her. Even over the phone, Ernest made her feel like the only girl that existed to him.
First, Carolyn felt happy, but immediately after, she became sick with worry about what she’d wear on a date with a rich man. She rummaged through her tiny suitcase, and everything she had looked like rags. Carolyn sighed. Then, against everything she’d ever promised herself, she lifted up her mattress and retrieved the envelope that contained her savings. Her entire life savings was contained in a small, rumpled white envelope. Carolyn sifted through the flattened bills. She flopped onto her bed and stared at the money.
“I could buy a beautiful dress and save the rest,” she said out loud to herself. “But to be with him, I will need an expensive dress,” she continued. Her mind was a tornado’s eye of thoughts. In the end, she rushed out of her room; raced downtown, to a boutique that she had always felt too poor to even look at; and used all her savings to purchase the most beautiful tangerine dress she could find. Carolyn poured every single hour before the time she was scheduled to see Ernest into getting herself beautified. She surprised even herself when it was all said and done.
They went on their first, date and it was magical—dinner at an expensive steak house a million miles out of Carolyn’s league, a romantic walk to the lakefront and, finally, a bottle of wine on the sand. Carolyn was smitten. Ernest wanted to know all about her life. He was the first man ever to talk to her without coming across as an old pervert. They spent that first night talking into the wee hours of the morning outside Carolyn’s place. He told her he didn’t want her to go, but she finally pulled away and went inside.
Ernest was back almost every day. He wanted Carolyn to quit her job, but she refused. He showered her with beautiful gifts. They officially began dating, he called her his woman, and in her mind, he was her man. Ernest made Carolyn feel like she was the only woman in the world. He took her to all of Idlewild’s most exclusive invite-only social events and acted as if he was so proud to have her on his arm. People always commented on what a beautiful couple they made. After a summer of dating, Ernest proposed. When he presented Carolyn with his grandmother’s ruby and diamond engagement ring, Carolyn almost wet herself. It was so sudden, but Carolyn knew without a doubt.
She jumped into his arms, screaming, “I do! I do!”
“That’s what you say at the wedding. Today you’re supposed to say yes,” he joked.
They embraced and fell over with laughter. Their happiness was palpable. It was like a beautiful rainbow-colored bubble had engulfed them, and they were the only two living inside it. That is, until Ernest brought Carolyn home to meet his parents in Chicago.
Ernest’s parents, of course, were not happy with his choice. They would have preferred a rich, cosmopolitan girl for their only son. Their faces literally dropped when Carolyn opened her mouth and out came her distinct Michigan accent, her words slurring together and her vowels drawn out.
“Where did you find her? She sounds like a slave girl from the past,” Ernest’s mother whispered harshly to him when they had a moment alone.
Ernest, so head over heels in love, quickly put his parents in their place when it came to his new fiancée. Eventually, his parents, defeated by the strength of Ernest and Carolyn’s love, relented.
Ernest and Carolyn were married in a traditional ceremony. The wedding took place at the Johnsons’ forty-million-dollar mansion in Hyde Park. Over five hundred guests attended the lavish wedding, and only fifteen of them were Carolyn’s family friends, mostly people she’d befriended since moving to Chicago. The remainder of the guests she’d never even met. At the time, Carolyn didn’t dare complain. She felt like she was living a dream, something far from what she could have ever envisioned for herself. She would never have to go back to the poor Michigan town she grew up in, and when she went back to Idlewild, it would be to vacation on the water, not to wait tables. On all accounts, Carolyn thought she’d walked into heaven, and she never really believed she deserved the kind of life she lived with Ernest. And there were many times when he didn’t let her forget it.
“Mrs. Johnson, Desi called. She is close. She stopped a few times and hit some pockets of traffic, so she’s a bit delayed,” announced Rebecca, the Johnsons’ longtime housekeeper, snapping Carolyn out of her reverie. Carolyn hadn’t realized she’d been standing there so long, staring into space, remembering. She quickly dabbed at her eyes, lifted her chin high, and turned toward Rebecca.
“I want everything to be perfect for Desi’s arrival and Donna’s homecoming. It’s a lot all at once, but it is what Ernest wants,” Carolyn replied, swiping her hands over her face. “Please make sure the caterers are on time. Everything has to be perfect. Her favorite color is blue. The food and cake are supposed to be delivered in two hours. I just . . . ,” Carolyn rambled, an edge of nerves apparent in her words.
Rebecca put her hand up. “Mrs. Johnson, I will have everything in order. I know how important these next few weeks are to you and Mr. Johnson,” she said with a warm smile, trying to comfort Carolyn.
Carolyn exhaled and thanked Rebecca, then walked into the huge master suite and glanced at her husband, who was lying in bed, helpless. She trusted Rebecca, who’d worked for the family ever since Junior was born. Only Carolyn, Ernest, and Rebecca knew the truth about everything that had taken place over the years. Rebecca knew all the family’s secrets. She stepped into the master suite and followed Carolyn around, making sure she didn’t forget anything as she got dressed.
“I’ll make sure Mr. Johnson is cleaned up by the time everyone gets here,” Rebecca assured her as she finished getting dressed.
Carolyn wore a pair of white, wide-legged crepe Versace sailor pants, which complemented her long, slim model-like legs. She shrugged into a short navy-blue Donna Karan blazer to complete her look. Then she grabbed her Hermès Birkin and looked at herself one last time in the long Victorian-style mirror that took up almost an entire wall in the master suite. She was still a knockout, even at sixty-one years old. She had only a few crow’s-feet at the corners of her eyes and a few laugh lines, which was nothing compared to her white friends, who had to use fillers to stay looking young. Carolyn ran her hands over her flat stomach and turned sideways to make sure she was fine.
Flat as a board. Perfect.
She smiled at herself and then back at Rebecca.
“Not so bad for a mother and grandmother, huh?” Carolyn asked, posing a rhetorical question.
“Absolutely beautiful,” Rebecca answered, praising her employer.
Carolyn smiled. She was still the quintessential kept woman. Through it all, she had managed to keep herself together. As she headed out of the master suite, she stopped and took another look at her husband.
“I just pray what you’ve asked for is what you really want,” she whispered.
With that, she left the room and headed to the front door and the waiting car in the driveway. She was off to fulfill her husband’s other request.
Chapter 3
Prodigal Children
People rushed around her, but that didn’t distract Carolyn at all. She kept her head up high as she sat on one of the hard wooden seats inside the auditorium of the New Life Rehabilitation Center. Her
