Idlewild Read online

  “I didn’t forget. I told you I have a very important business meeting in the city,” Junior replied, annoyed, pushing her hand away. “I already told Pop. I told him I’d be back, just like I’m telling you.” Junior refused to look his mother in the eyes. He immediately grabbed his suitcase and started down the stairs. In his assessment, there was nothing else to talk about. Junior knew how their confrontations would end up. He had long ago grown tired of his mother’s constant guilt trips about how she thought he acted around his sister, Desiree.

  “So that’s it? You’re just leaving your family? Your father is dying, for God’s sake! Is that what you want on your conscience? You think running away is the answer?” Carolyn barked at her son’s back. “She is your sister, and no matter what, nothing will ever change that, Junior! Your family comes first!”

  He ignored her and rushed down the front steps.

  “Junior! I’m talking to you!” she called out again.

  Before she could say another word, Junior flopped down into the driver’s seat of his Mercedes-Maybach and slammed the door.

  Carolyn rocked back on her heels as she watched the car ease down the long stone driveway toward the road. That was it. Just like that, one of her children was gone again. Carolyn had been through the same thing so many times, she had come to expect it. It had been so many years since she had seen all three of her children in the same place at the same time that it was easy to forget she had three children, that is, until they did things to bring shame to their family’s name.

  Carolyn could feel her heart throbbing against her chest bone now. She guessed this was what a broken heart felt like. It wasn’t a new feeling, and she didn’t know why it always felt like a fresh wound. She silently chastised herself for being so emotional all the time. It had been almost seventeen years since their lives had blown up and her children had been ripped apart. None of them had really recovered. She closed her eyes to stifle the angry tears threatening to fall. Then she headed into the house to check on her husband.

  “I just hope you are prepared for what you’ve asked for, Ernest,” she mumbled as she entered the house.

  * * *

  Carolyn heard the hissing sound of the oxygen tank even before she reached the doorway to the master suite. She paused, leaned her back against the wall just outside the room, and closed her eyes. Seeing her husband in this weakened state was taking a toll on her. He’d been her everything for so long that she couldn’t imagine life without him. Even when he had done things that were contrary to their happiness, Carolyn had still held so much love inside for Ernest. They had met almost forty-two years ago and had been together since.

  The day they met, Carolyn, had been working as a server at a posh dinner reception in Idlewild, where she was spending the summer season. She had stepped over to a table full of what she knew were rich people visiting from the city to serve them coffee after their fancy dinner. As she poured the hot drink, her eyes had danced up, and she’d locked eyes with a handsome young man. He had to be the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen in her short eighteen years of living. He was definitely better looking than any boy Carolyn had ever laid eyes on in her tiny Michigan hometown.

  Carolyn’s perfect caramel face turned red when the beautiful guy cracked a smile at her. His striking grin caused her hands to shake so badly, she’d almost spilled coffee on their table. Carolyn rushed away, embarrassed and scared to death that she might lose her job. It was her first summer season and her first month at the restaurant. In Yates Township, Michigan, there weren’t a lot of jobs in those days, and so when Carolyn graduated high school, she knew she would have to try something different. Most of the girls from her town went to work in Idlewild either as waitresses or housekeepers, and Carolyn felt she had won the lottery when she landed a job in a restaurant instead of having to clean someone’s house. Losing her job would be a devastating blow.

  “Oh my God,” she huffed as she rushed toward the servers’ area, her heart galloping. Carolyn put down the fancy silver coffeepot, let out the breath she’d been holding, and wiped her sweat-drenched hands on the little white server’s apron she wore around her waist.

  “You’re stupid if you think that city boy was even thinking about you,” said a stern female voice.

  Carolyn jumped and spun around at the sound of her boss’s voice. “Um, no. I . . . I . . . wasn’t,” she stammered, her eyes wide with fear.

  “I saw him smile at you and you look at him with loving eyes. I know that look, girl. That’s the kind of cruel shit these little rich bastards do all the time. They try to see how far they can go with you, but they don’t really want a poor little server girl. His mama and papa wouldn’t even let him toss a nickel at you, much less date you, so just get your head out of the clouds right now,” Carolyn’s boss said with disgust in her tone. “Keep your head in this here work, so we can get through this night without any mishaps. You want to keep your job, don’t you?”

  Carolyn shook her head up and down vigorously. “Ye-yes, Ms. Carmen. I . . . I will keep my eyes to the floor from now on,” Carolyn assured her, her entire body hot with shame.

  “Good. Now it’s time to start the cleanup,” her boss said, tossing a cleaning chamois in her direction.

  Carolyn scrambled to pick up the rag. She was glad to be dismissed from that conversation. She rushed away, ready to work and eager to keep her job.

  The gorgeous guy boldly approached her at the end of the dinner reception. Carolyn, being from the country, had no idea who he was. She later found out that everyone who was anyone in Idlewild knew who Ernest Johnson was—the gorgeous and very wealthy son of Bernard Johnson, Chicago’s most wealthy black businessman. The Johnsons owned Idlewild’s most exclusive club, the Point, and were at the center of the illustrious social scene. It was a well-known fact that Ernest Johnson could have any girl he wanted. Not only was he strikingly attractive, but he was also rich and single, and the opportunities that came his way were abundant. He was twenty-five and number one on the most eligible bachelor list, a fact that was completely lost on Carolyn when Ernest approached her, flashing his perfect smile and displaying the charm of those Prince Charming types that she’d read about in books as a young girl in the South.

  Standing together, they looked like the mismatched pair that they were. Carolyn was dressed in a server’s outfit, with her dark brown hair drawn into a tight bun and her makeup-free face flushed red. The handsome stranger, on the other hand, looked rich in his custom tuxedo and diamond cuff links. Together they looked like master and servant.

  “You are stunning,” he said to her. “I’m Ernest. It’s so nice to meet you.” His smile was electric.

  Carolyn felt dizzy, and her legs almost buckled. A whoosh of breath involuntarily left her lungs through her mouth in response to his smooth baritone. She couldn’t speak a word. Although she looked like a grown woman, Carolyn was only eighteen years old and had never gone on a date. In that moment, she was overwhelmed by Ernest’s beautiful slanted hazel eyes and his neatly trimmed jet-black hair. He reminded Carolyn of a model she’d seen on a billboard. Looking at him made her pulse quicken, so she lowered her eyes, stared down at her feet, and smiled girlishly.

  “You probably say that to one hundred girls per day,” Carolyn murmured, still avoiding direct eye contact.

  “I haven’t seen one as beautiful as you in a long time,” Ernest replied, using his pointer finger to push her chin up so she was forced to look at him.

  Carolyn reluctantly locked eyes with him, and when he smiled, she swore she could feel her heart melting and oozing down her insides. Standing in his presence, Carolyn forgot she was working and might lose her job by fraternizing with the wealthy guests. She forgot everything, and in that moment, she felt like they were the only two people in the large, crowded ballroom. They spent a few more minutes laughing and talking, until Ms. Carmen peeked around the wall separating the servers’ area from the reception hall. Ms. Carmen had a powerful gaze that co
uld stop a giant in his tracks.

  “Um, I . . . I’ve got to go,” Carolyn said nervously, her words rushing out. She had felt Ms. Carmen’s eye slap all too well. She turned and strode away.

  “Wait . . . I didn’t get your name,” Ernest called after her.

  She stopped, turned around, and mouthed her name to him, hoping that Ms. Carmen wouldn’t catch any of it. Then she turned around again and started walking.

  “How do I find you?” he yelled at her back.

  Carolyn couldn’t turn around to answer, but she dropped something on the floor in her wake. It was a white paper napkin. She could hear his footsteps behind her and hoped he would pick it up. She had quickly scribbled her information down on the napkin. Carolyn didn’t see him do it, but Ernest picked up the napkin and pushed it into his lapel pocket.

  The next day Carolyn returned to the house she and some friends lived in for the summer season to find a note stuck to the door of the tiny room she rented.

  “I paid this month,” she grumbled, annoyed to think her landlord was trying to fleece her for extra money again. With her hands shaking, she quickly opened the note. She read it and read it again. She sucked in her breath, flabbergasted.

  I can’t stop thinking of you. I hope you don’t think this is invasive, but I had to find you. Please call. Ernest Johnson. 312-998-4560.

  Carolyn rushed through the door and collapsed on her bed, weak with joy. She kicked her legs in the air and squealed. But then Ms. Carmen’s words played back in her ears. That’s the kind of cruel shit these little rich bastards do all the time. They try to see how far they can go with you, but they don’t really want a poor little server girl. His mama and papa wouldn’t even let him toss a nickel at you, much less date you.

  Carolyn’s joy quickly faded. She crumpled up the paper and tossed it across her room.

  “Ms. Carmen is right. A man like that is totally out of my league,” she grumbled aloud, staring up at her dingy off-white ceiling. She sighed and turned onto her side. “When you’re poor, you stay poor. The rich stay with their own kind,” she said out loud. Those were some of the words her grandmother had told her before Carolyn got in her car to make the drive to Idlewild.

  That 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 every
one 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 palms were sweaty, and she couldn’t keep her legs from rocking back and forth. Carolyn was clearly out of her element, but she knew she had to be there regardless. She kept telling herself, It is my duty. This is what Ernest asked for.