“Mommy...”
Simone felt a tug on her sweater and turned around. Jayden was sucking his thumb with gusto, making loud, slurping sounds that attracted the attention of everyone seated nearby. Sniffling, he bobbed his head vigorously up and down. Breaking him of the habit had proven to be such a difficult task, she’d called his pediatrician for help. Dr. Westbrook told her not to worry, said that Jayden would grow out of it soon. Simone sure hoped so because she was tired of him slobbering all over himself, other people and the living room furniture.
“Mommy, Jordan called me a butthead!”
Simone inflected her voice with just the right amount of shock. “He did?”
“Uh-huh,” he said, wiping the tears from his eyes. “And he said he’s going to beat me up when we get home.”
Angela ruffled Jayden’s curly brown hair. “Don’t worry, lil’ man. Your brother isn’t going to hurt you. He was just teasing.”
“No, he wasn’t.” Another sniff. “Mommy, I don’t want Jordan to be my brother anymore. He’s mean, and he never shares his toys with me.”
Simone pulled Jayden into her arms and kissed his cheek. He was five years old, but he had the temperament of an eighty-year-old man. He was moody and terribly sensitive, and when he didn’t get his way, he’d mope into the living room, curl up on the couch and have a good cry. He did it so often Marcus had started to worry. Scared that his son would grow up “soft” and wanting to “toughen him up a bit,” he had enrolled him in little league hockey. These days, Jayden cried more than ever.
“Mom, Jayden called me a butthead!” Jordan said, racing over to the booth. Sniffling, his lips curled into a pout, he mimicked his identical twin brother perfectly. “And he said he was going to beat me up when we get home!”
Simone strangled a laugh. Leave it to Jordan to make light of the situation. Lovable, energetic and as noisy as a boy could be, he lived to make everyone around him smile. To her husband’s delight, he was naturally athletic, loved sports and enjoyed working with his hands. While Jayden was off drawing in his beloved sketchbook, Jordan was outside splashing in puddles, eating dirt and collecting bugs. “I want you boys to stop calling each other names.” Simone watched Jordan, saw him stare down at his sneakers. “If you keep this up I won’t take you to the video arcade later. Is that what you want? For me to cancel our plans?”
Jordan tugged at his sleeve, shuffled his size-three feet. “No.”
“Well then, be nice to your brother.”
After an extended bout of silence, he said in a low voice, “Okay, Mom. I’ll try.”
“That’s my boy.” Scolding Jordan pierced Simone’s heart, but if she let his bad behavior slide, he wouldn’t give Jayden a moment’s peace, and the last thing she wanted was for him to spend the rest of the day crying. Simone knew all too well what it was like to be tormented by a sibling, and she didn’t want her sweet, sensitive son to suffer the same fate.
“I’m hungry!” Jordan announced, rubbing his stomach. “Can I have some French fries?”
“No, you just had lunch.”
“But, Mommy...” Jayden whined, joining forces with his brother. “My stomach’s growling, too. I think it wants a cheeseburger.”
Simone schooled her features, fought valiantly to keep a straight face. “I’m not ordering any more food, you two. It’s time to go.”
The waiter dropped off the bill and collected the empty plates.
“Where are you guys off to now?” Angela asked, signing the credit-card receipt.
“To buy you a housewarming gift, of course!”
“Good, then I won’t keep you.”
Simone hugged her. “Thanks for lunch. And the talk.”
“No worries,” Angela said with a flick of her right hand. “I’ll see you on Saturday night, girlfriend. Don’t be late!”
Chapter 4
Water Tower Place—a soaring, eight-level atrium teeming with designer stores, chic cafés and premier restaurants—was practically deserted, so after buying Angela the most expensive item on her five-page gift registry, Simone took Jayden and Jordan to their favorite stores. They played games at the video arcade, cuddled kittens in the pet shop and wandered around the bookstore perusing the discounted books in overflowing clearance bins.
“Mom, can we go to the kids’ zone?”
Simone nodded and watched as they raced into the bright, kid-friendly area. It was filled with stuffed animals, oversize chairs and colorful tables. Staring outside the window, she marveled at the beauty of the azure-blue sky. The sun pushed through the clouds, spilling into the bookstore, lighting the wide, open space.
Warmed by the heat of the sun, Simone unzipped her winter jacket, and stuffed her leather gloves into her pocket. The bookstore was the place to be on a lazy winter day, and with seventy percent off already-reduced merchandise, it was packed with excited bargain shoppers. Mothers wheeled deluxe strollers through congested aisles, unruly children bounced off soaring book displays and the sleep-deprived students in the bookstore café guzzled coffee like it was holy water.
Simone took out her phone. There were no messages from Marcus, no texts. She’d called him after they left the Skyline Grill, but he still hadn’t called her back. Simone didn’t even know why she’d bothered phoning him. As usual, his cell had gone straight to voice mail. Funny, he had no problem getting to his phone last night, she thought, still ticked off at him for abandoning her in bed.
To kill time and to get her mind off Marcus, Simone strolled through the nonfiction section, checking out the bestselling books proudly displayed at the end of the aisle. “A Sista’s Guide to Seduction?” Frowning, she rested her basket on the floor and picked up one of the pink, heart-shaped books. “How to seduce the man of your dreams in thirty days or less.”
Simone let out a laugh. Normally, she wouldn’t pay any mind to something so blatantly foolish, but in light of her present relationship woes, she decided it wouldn’t hurt to take a quick peek inside. Thankfully, the display was only steps away from the kids’ section, and she could keep an eye on the boys while she skimmed the pages of Dr. RaShondra Brown’s latest book.
After a quick glance over her shoulder to ensure no one was watching, she cracked open the little pink book and flipped to the first page.
Have you lost your moxie?
Would your man rather hang out with his boys than give you the lovin’ you deserve?
Are you tired of being ignored and ready to take matters into your own hands?
Yes! Yes! And yes! Simone thought, nodding her head. There were so many problems in her marriage she didn’t know where to start. Who knew? Maybe Dr. RaShondra’s book could make a difference. Maybe it could put the spark back in her five-year marriage.
Simone swallowed, loosened the knot in her silk scarf. Deep down, she knew that Marcus loved her, knew he only wanted the best for her, but the problem was he wasn’t in love with her. His love lacked passion, desire, excitement, and that was precisely what Dr. RaShondra was peddling in her newest book. The good doctor guaranteed results in thirty days or less, and Simone was inclined to believe her. All six of Dr. RaShondra’s previous books had skyrocketed up the New York Times’ bestseller list and there was even talk of Good Girl, Bad World being made into a TV movie. She’d read the book in a day and had been the first one in line when the play opened in Chicago last summer. Dr. RaShondra knew her stuff, but that didn’t mean the little pink book was going to produce miraculous results, did it?
Scanning the rest of the chapter, Simone wondered if Dr. RaShondra’s self-help book was worth the thirty-nine dollars and