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About book -Sensual Noir/Romance/Erotic Intrigue
Sheryl Banks started this diary of …(well, she doesn’t know yet, LOL). She just knows she has this fascination about being wickedly sensual all the time.
Join her to find what every woman wants: a man. A good man!
Her life isn’t that exciting, but she thinks it’s sure to keep you on your toes.
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Entry Six
I was late for work this morning. Not because I wanted to be, but because of my sister.
Oh, I never mention her, because… well that’s a long story. Lauren Banks is a complicated person. She thinks the world shitted on her and didn’t even give her tissue to wipe it up.
She’s always the victim and I really don’t want to speak to her most of the time. Sure I’ll call her for her birthday. I even sent a gift for her wedding anniversary. She married the first guy she had sex with – poor thing.
Now back to why I was late today.
I had not come in the house until two that morning. Mack and I had a late after dinner snack at his house, got it on again and then he had his driver bring me home. Even then we both didn’t want to leave each other.
I really enjoyed myself with him. He was charming, romantic, and thoughtful. Different for a man like him, but a bonus for me. He even sent me a text message when I arrived home to let me know he had really enjoyed himself.
I stayed up the rest of the night going over résumés for my assistant position. Then I emailed Lisa to let her know my choice without an interview. I really didn’t have time to go through all that crap. I just chose the one that looked good on paper and who Lisa had found great references for.
Finally, I made it to bed.
Then about six o’clock in the morning, my sister Lauren knocks at my door, looking as if she had just found anything to throw on her body. Large bags sat under her eyes.
I immediately thought something horrible had happened to my mother.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, wrapping my robe tight around me. “Are you okay? Is momma okay?”
“Everything’s fine, Sheryl, I mean health wise.” Lauren was almost an exact replica of me, except she looked like a ten year older version of me. Though she was just three years older, she had this kinda frail look about her. Like if you raised your voice at her, she’d pass out.
“So why are you visiting me at this time of morning, Lauren?”
Tears welled in her eyes and she wailed – I kid you not – WAILED, as if she were dying, “I’m leaving Mitchell!” Then she collapsed in my arms.
This took me aback because Mitchell was Lauren’s world. He’d eat dirt for her. I knew if she ever left him, they’d both be tore up from the floor up.
I tried my best to comfort her, but she began to get louder and louder. I coaxed her over to the couch and we sat down.
“Why would you want to leave Mitchell?” I asked.
Lauren looked up with tears streaming from her blood shot eyes. “I- I can’t be married to him, Sheryl. I just can’t.”
“Why not?”
She sat up and even moved a little away from me. “I’ve been having these weird dreams. Like… well, like bad dreams.”
I frowned, not understanding her. “I don’t comprehend you, Lauren. Just spit it out.”
“I think I was raped.”
My heart stopped. I could feel an old sisterly protectiveness stir in me. Something I hadn’t felt for Lauren in a long time. “When?”
“When we were little.”
I knew then that Lauren was trying to get into the “victim role” again and thus didn’t take a word she said serious. “In the dream you were raped?”
“Yes, but I think it happened for real, Sheryl.”
“When?” I demanded to know.
“Remember when we were kids and Momma use to send us to Uncle E’s house?”
I was like six or seven when we use to have to go to Uncle E’s house every other week. I hated it because it messed with the Barbie parties I’d have with my neighborhood friends. And even though Uncle E was nice to me, he treated Lauren like she was a sore spot on his ass. I didn’t care. By the time I was eight though, Momma told us Uncle E had died and that was it.
“You think Uncle E raped you?”
“Yes!” Lauren hissed.
“And you’re just remembering it? Have you told Momma?”
“I did, and she said I was talking crazy. She said pregnant women always had crazy dreams.”
I was shocked again. “You’re pregnant?”
“Yes,” she replied, as if I should already know. “But I really don’t think it is that.”
“Okay, so what did Momma say about Uncle E?”
“She said I needed to put it to rest. That whether it happened or not, I needed to put it to rest. But you know what that means, right?”
Shaking my head, I really didn’t know what that meant. “What?”
“That Mitchell’s not my first. All this time we relished the fact that we were each others’ first, but as it turns out, he’s not mine after all. I know in my heart that Uncle E took my virginity.”
I sighed and tried my best to comfort her by rubbing her back and arms. “I think you should go to a doctor, Lauren.”
“I don’t want to.”
“What about a preacher?”
“Sheryl, don’t play with me. If I was raped, then Uncle E could have raped you, too, and you’re repressing the memories.”
“I’m not.”
“You are, but its okay.”
I hated being accused of something that wasn’t true. “I wasn’t raped. All I remember about Uncle E was that he would try to buy me stuff all the time and I wouldn’t let him. I never understood why Momma made us visit him so much.”
“What do you mean you never understood why?” Lauren asked frowning. She snorted in disgust. “Please don’t tell me that you don’t know why Momma forced us to do that. You’ve been ignorant all this time?”
She was pissing me off. “Okay, Ms. Smarty Pants, why?”
“Uncle E was our father, stupid.”
If I had been standing up, I would have fallen down! “Our father?!”
“Yes, the other contribution of your DNA. Momma just made us call him Uncle E because he wasn’t worth being called a Daddy.”
This was news to me. I stood up, frowning. All this time and I never knew. But why wouldn’t my mother want to remind me of something like that? And how had Lauren known?
“How did you find out?” I asked.
“When Momma decided not to send us over there anymore, I started crying about it and I told her I hated her. She slapped me and told me I should hate Uncle E instead since he wouldn’t live up to his responsibility of being a real father like he was supposed to. And then she covered her mouth like she’d let the wrong thing fall out. That’s when I knew. Well, I put two and two together, looked around the house, and saw stuff that told me that Uncle E was indeed our father.”
“So you think you were raped by our father?”
Lauren stood up. “I know I was raped by our father.”
“And Momma just said you were talking crazy?”
“Yes.”
“Then if you feel that way, Lauren, you need to find a way to prove her wrong.”
“That’s why I came to you.” She reached in her purse and pulled out some papers that were printed off the Internet. “I want you to help me find this man.”
“What man?” I took the papers she handed me.
“Uncle E.”
I wanted to ask her if she was smoking crack, but then Lauren could go off the deep end.
“He ain’t dead, Sheryl,” Lauren said. “Momma and I went toe to toe last night and I know he ain’t dead, just by the way she was talking.”
“Let me talk to her.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t want her to know I’ve involved you.”
I handed the papers back to her. “I don’t want to be in a tug of war with you and Momma, Lauren. You go on your crazy hunches by yourself.”
She shook her head. “He’s alive and I want you to find him. I don’t have the resources, but I know you can do it. Anything you’ve put your mind to you’ve done it, Sheryl. And I don’t want Mitchell to know, either.”
“What? That you’re going crazy?”
“Shut up.” She gathered her purse over her shoulder and sighed. “I don’t want him to know I’m leaving him.”
“So if I find this man you think is alive, what then?”
She stepped to me and gave me this long warm hug. I thought I heard her sob and prayed she wouldn’t start wailing again. When she moved away, Lauren said softly, “I need to know the truth. I can’t go forward until I know the past, Sheryl. Help me.” She looked very sincere and I just knew she was on a borderline wail.
“And if I prove you wrong? That this man isn’t alive?”
“Then I’ll seek professional help, but I’ll still leave Mitchell.”
“So I have to find this man alive and find out if you were raped or not.”
“Yes.”
“And then you’ll stay with Mitchell?”
“I promise.”
“And tell him the truth about how crazy you are?”
“If I am.”
“Fine, Lauren.”
She kissed my cheek. “Thanks Sheryl. I knew you’d help.”
I let her out and allowed her to hug me again. I wasn’t helping her because I was being a good sister. I had a feeling that if she left Mitchell, she’d need somewhere to stay and Momma wouldn’t let her stay with her.
A pregnant woman under my roof? Oh lawd, hell naw! To keep that from happening, all I had to figure out was how to prove my sister crazy. That might be easy.
I crawled back in bed and told myself that I was just going to sleep for one more hour.
Diary Of A… (c) Sylvia Hubbard. All Rights Reserved 2010 | Published by HubBooks
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