What About Your Friends

By Teresa D. Patterson

Camille Gray, a newlywed, and expectant mother constantly accuses her husband of infidelity. Even though Dexter isn't being unfaithful he does have a new secretary, Meredith Walker. Meredith isn't shy about letting Dexter know that if he does want to stray from his marriage, she's more than willing to accommodate him. Can Dexter resist temptation?

April Dillard, a single parent of two, has issues with her son's father, Darren. Because of their on-again, off-again relationship, his selfishness as a parent and her daily issues, April chooses drinking and clubbing as an outlet for her stress. She tries to bury her problems at the bottom of a bottle.

Brittany Anderson has her share of men problems. She goes through one bad relationship after the next, often neglecting her children in the process. While she's out chasing her latest conquest, a tragedy occurs. Will she lose her children forever because of her selfishness?

While reading What About Your Friends, you will be left wondering about the people and friendships in your own life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Teresa D. Patterson
• Release date: Oct 24, 2011
• ISBN: 9781466054073

Teresa D. Patterson

Teresa D. Patterson came onto the literary scene with her debut novel, Project Queen, which was published by a small independent publishing company. It wasn't long before she realized having complete control over the creation and distribution of her books suited her better, compelling her to publish her own future works.Her first independent published novel was Ex-boyfriend. She went on to write several novels in multiple genres, which includes contemporary fiction, erotica, inspirational fiction, juvenile fiction, romance, and urban lit. She has written twenty-eight novels and co-authored one.

Book preview

Chapter One

Camille Gray gave up on the idea of sleeping. She fluffed the pillows and counted sheep, to no avail. She knew she’d never relax as long as she lay in the king-sized bed alone. Letting out a deep breath of frustration, she turned over and glanced at the clock. It was almost two in the morning and her husband, Dexter, still hadn’t made it home. She had already called his cell phone repeatedly, leaving several messages.

What in the hell can he be doing at this time of night? Where is he? She thought. Apparently, Dexter has better things to do than answer my calls.

She conjured up an image of Dexter laid up with another woman. Picturing her husband screwing some trick made her blood boil.

He better not do that to me, she said aloud. He wouldn’t.

Camille sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She slid her feet into a pair of fluffy house shoes, got up and padded softly into the living room.

The light from the large-screened television illuminated the room. She didn’t like the house to be dark when Dexter left her alone, so she left the TV on. She didn’t feel safe by herself, but the noise from the television gave her a small amount of security. Maybe any potential burglars would hear it and think twice about breaking in.

A Judge Mathis re-run played on the screen. She sat down in the black leather love seat and picked up the remote control. Just as she began channel surfing, she heard keys jangling outside the door.

Dexter stepped into the room only to encounter her cold glare. He glanced over at his wife, not saying a word. He was still dressed in the same clothes he wore to work. He had on dark slacks, a navy blue, long-sleeved shirt and silk tie.

Dexter was f-i-n-e. In fact, he was a Shemar Moore, Taye Diggs type of fine. He had it going on, with his caramel complexion and light-brown colored eyes. His looks definitely made him stand out.

Dexter immediately sensed that Camille had copped an attitude. He didn’t feel like dealing with the same accusations that he’d dealt with all week. Sure that she would cut into him he headed toward the bedroom to avoid an argument.

Just as he’d expected, she began with the questions.

Dexter, where have you been? she demanded to know, suddenly standing on her feet.

Camille was all that and then some. She possessed a body that wouldn’t quit. Her mocha colored skin was flawless. Her full breasts strained against the fabric of her gown. But, Dexter wasn’t turned on by her looks. He had his guard up, especially since her eyes shot fire.

This is the second time this week that you’ve come dragging your tired ass in after midnight. Do you have a damn problem? she shouted.

No, I do not have a problem, he answered calmly. You must have one though, since you’re the only one swearing and getting all loud. He continued past, but heard her stomping angrily behind him.

Dexter, don’t walk away from me when I’m talking to you. I’ve been calling you all night. Is something wrong with your phone? There must be since you can’t seem to hear it ringing. Your dinner is cold and I’ve been up half the night worried about you. Where have you been? Obviously, Dexter didn’t intend to answer any of her questions. That made her hot. Dexter!

In the bedroom he stripped down to his boxers. Seeing him half-dressed conjured up an image of him in someone else’s bedroom. Camille’s blood ran hot. Who the hell is she? What whore are you screwing? Are you cheating on me, Dexter? Is that it? Huh? She glared at him with a wild look in her eyes, waiting for a response. She stood in the center of the room with her arms crossed.

Camille, you’re crazy, he said in annoyance. Man, I don’t have time for this. I have to work in the morning. I’m going to sleep. He had the audacity to climb into bed and turn his back on her. Can you get the light? he tossed over his shoulder.

That did it for her. It was the last straw. She rushed over to the bed, grabbed one of the pillows and let him have it.

No, I will not get the fucking light! She swung the pillow with all her might and hit him in the head. And don’t think that you’re going to sleep in the same bed with me, you son-of-a-bitch! Take your ass to the couch.

I swear you are tripping. He got up, shaking his head as he stared at her.

"I got a right to trip. I will not have you coming home whenever you feel like it. Did you forget that you have a wife? Did you forget your own address? she yelled. Dexter offered no reply. I guess you got amnesia and now you’re mute, since you can’t open your damn mouth."

Look, I don’t want to argue with you, Camille. I just don’t, so I’m out, he said tiredly. He picked up his pillow and she watched as he left the room.

He remained so calm. Dexter was always the calm one. He didn’t even slam the door; just let it close softly behind him.

Camille burst into tears. She sank down onto the carpeted floor and cried her heart out. She felt like she was riding an emotional roller coaster, up one minute, down the next.

Does marriage only consist of this? She thought.

Married for four, short months, her marriage seemed to already be headed for disaster. She knew that picking a fight would not solve their problems. Dexter just made her so mad. Plus, he never wanted to talk things out. He said she always made too much out of small things. He acted like nothing mattered to him at all. She often wondered what went on inside his head and his heart. Didn’t he want to be with her?

Dexter was the one who’d insisted that they get married right away. She wanted to wait in order to be sure.

Camille finally got up off the floor and walked over to the mirror. She placed her hands on her protruding stomach and gazed at her image. She’d been pregnant for almost five months. She thought that she wanted a baby with Dexter. Now doubt and uncertainty set in.

Dexter insisted that he hadn’t married her only because of the pregnancy, but she wasn’t so sure about that. He didn’t seem to want to be around her anymore. He worked more hours and came home late the past few weeks.

Camille sighed. She just didn’t know what to think. She knew that she loved Dexter. She’d loved him on first sight. But, could that kind of love be the lasting kind? Would their marriage endure the many trials and tribulations ahead and sustain?

She couldn’t continue with such a rift existing between them. She had to get Dexter to communicate. She prayed for answers, but knew they wouldn’t materialize out of thin air.

She got a tissue and dabbed at her red-rimmed eyes, blew her nose, then threw the tissue in the small garbage can near the dresser. Camille ran her fingers through her thick, shoulder length hair and sighed, tiredly. Suddenly, a light seemed to click on inside her head.

That’s it, she said aloud. A makeover. She would go to the beauty salon and get her hair styled. She would also treat herself to a manicure and a pedicure. Then, she would find a j-o-b.

For the past two months, she had been so wrought with morning sickness that the doctors placed her on bed rest. She’d been so sick that water wouldn’t even stay down. Consequently, she had to quit her job at the department store located in the mall. She couldn’t continue working there due to having to stand up all day. Dexter’s paycheck provided the only source of income. That could be the reason for his sullen mood.

Dexter would never ask her to get a job. It wasn’t his way. Dexter was born and raised in Philadelphia. He portrayed the ideal picture of the perfect husband: handsome, hardworking, a provider. He believed strongly in family values. If Camille didn’t watch herself, she could turn into one of those barefoot, pregnant women. She made a promise to herself she’d never fit that mode.

She assumed that having to foot all of the bills contributed to Dexter’s stress. He wouldn’t talk to her about it because of his stubborn, male pride. He felt that a man should provide for his family.

Now that the severe morning sickness had ended, she could find no valid reason as to why she shouldn’t work.

Yeah, getting a job would do the trick. Camille would become employed, and take some of the strain off her husband. Maybe that would help put their marriage back on track.

She smiled to herself, already feeling optimistic. Soon, the real Camille would be back full force. Suddenly, she felt like dancing. She even felt good enough to satisfy her man.

She let her mind drift back and couldn’t believe that a month had passed since she and Dexter made love. No wonder the brother acted so uptight. Newlyweds should make love every night.

She didn’t actually believe that he cheated with another woman, as she’d accused earlier, but she wasn’t stupid either. She knew that if she didn’t give her husband the attention that he needed in the bedroom, some low-morale chicken-head out there would.

Camille pulled her hair back into a ponytail and got into bed. She missed having Dexter’s warmth next to her, but he could stay on the couch. He made her sick with his nonchalant attitude. The last time he stayed out late, he didn’t have a good explanation either.

She tried to forget about everything and let go of the anger. She realized that she felt better than she’d felt in a while. She had a plan that she would put into effect tomorrow. She just prayed it would work because she didn’t want her marriage to end. The arguing and getting nowhere with Dexter made her tired. A light had to be waiting at the end of the tunnel.

Chapter Two

The next morning Camille got up bright and early. By the time Dexter showered and dressed, she had breakfast on the table. Blueberry pancakes, sausage patties and bacon, grits, toast and orange juice greeted him. Folgers brewed in the glass coffeepot and Camille appeared presentable. When he entered the room, he did a double-take.

Is this real? he asked aloud, so used to seeing her looking tore up, leaning over the toilet bowl or still in the bed. He was taken aback seeing his wife actually dressed. She had styled her hair and even wore a dab of lipstick. Whoa.

Good morning, she greeted, unable to quite meet his eyes. Her behavior from the night before caused her to be thoroughly ashamed. She had no reason to hurl such vile accusations at her husband, whom she truly loved. A fresh wave of guilt washed over her. Dexter, I’m sorry for the way that I’ve been acting, she said tearfully. It’s just that- I worry about you when you don’t come home. I don’t expect for you to call every hour and check in or anything, but it would be nice if you would just let me know when you’re going to be late, she told him. It’s common courtesy.

He looked at her struggling to hold back the tears and it touched his heart. Baby, I’m sorry too, he said thickly. I haven’t made things easy for you. It’s just that when I leave in the morning- you’re sick. When I come home in the evening- you’re sick. When I want to get freaky- you’re sick. He gazed at her with compassion. I guess I haven’t been very understanding. I apologize. I just didn’t know that it would be like this, he ended.

Me either, she said quietly. But, I don’t want to lose you, Dexter. Her eyes bore into his. I love you. You are my life.

Camille, don’t start getting all emotional on me. I’m your husband. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll always be here for you and our baby. He sat down and began eating, ending the discussion.

It didn’t go unnoticed by Camille that he hadn’t said he loved her. Had he ever said it?

She thought back on their short relationship. She knew Dexter for only six months before she found out she was pregnant. Even though instant love happened for her, she wasn’t sure of Dexter’s true feelings. He told her that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. He also told her that she’d finally found someone whom she could love. But he’d never, not once, actually said those three words to her.

Dexter, she said softly and he looked up from eating.

Yes?

Do you love me? she asked, holding his gaze.

An annoyed scowl crossed his handsome face. Camille, what kind of a question is that? I married you, didn’t I? He reached for another pancake. Breakfast is great, Baby. Thank you.

No problem, she said stiffly.

Camille got up from the table. She felt heaviness in her heart and her throat constricted. It wasn’t exactly the response she’d expected. But that was Dexter- so unemotional.

Since you’re up, could you pour me a cup of coffee? he asked, grabbing the newspaper that she’d placed on the table earlier.

Pour it your damn self, she snapped and left the room.

Dexter’s head raised and a look of confusion flashed across his face. He watched her back as she stalked out. The door to their bedroom slammed shut.

Damn. What did I do now? he wondered aloud. He shook his head and turned to the sports section. He found it hard to figure Camille out. One minute she would be up, the next, down. He contributed it to her being pregnant. He wouldn’t let her mood swings bother him, though. She had gone all out and cooked a wonderful breakfast. He couldn’t complain about that at all.

He kept reading the paper until the clock on the wall read 7:15. He placed his dishes in the sink then left for work.

When Camille went back into the kitchen Dexter wasn’t there. He hadn’t said good-bye, hadn’t given her a kiss. Nothing. The only thing he’d left her was a messed up kitchen.

She shook her head as she scraped the remaining food down the garbage disposal and placed the dishes into the dishwasher. She cleaned the rest of the kitchen and even carried out the garbage.

Camille decided to job search, so she got the classified section of the newspaper that still lay on the table. After scanning the advertisements under clerical and general employment, she narrowed it down to two positions that matched her skills and qualifications.

She dialed the number to the first ad she’d circled, and cradled the cordless phone between her shoulder and jaw as she walked over to the coffee pot. Since finding out about her pregnancy, she’d stopped drinking caffeine. She couldn’t successfully give up coffee, but now she drank only decaffeinated.

Good morning, Dr. Raphael’s office, a cheerful voice greeted from the other end of the phone.

Good morning, ma’am. I’m calling to inquire about the secretarial position in today’s paper.

Oh, I’m sorry. We filled that position yesterday, the woman told her. Her voice held genuine regret. But thank you for calling.

Thank you. She hung up feeling somewhat disappointed, but not discouraged.

She got ready to dial the next number when her eye caught an ad at the top of the page that she’d missed. A temporary employment agency advertised for clerical workers. They had a variety of job positions, both full and part-time.

Maybe a temporary position would be better, with her being pregnant and all. If she didn’t like working one of the assignments, she could always pass it up. If she did like any of the jobs, maybe she would consider becoming a permanent employee once she’d given birth. She had many options. Feeling optimistic, she dialed the number.

She agreed to a two o’clock appointment later that evening at the temp agency. She would fill out the necessary paperwork and do testing for typing and data entry. That left her plenty of time to get a manicure and have her hair styled. She wanted to make a good first impression.

She printed out a copy of her resume that had been saved on the C drive of her computer. She placed it in an attractive resume folder, and put that inside her