Treasure Hernandez

Idlewild


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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 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.

      Carolyn looked around at some of the parents there. Most seemed to be well off, just like she was. Carolyn tried not to stare too long, but she couldn’t help it. She felt a pang of jealousy when she saw that some of the couples were holding hands and being supportive of each other. Seemingly happy families made her stomach churn. She wished that was her life again.

      Damn you, Ernest.

      Carolyn shook her head to clear it and tried to focus on why she was there—for her youngest child, Donna. Her third and last child. It had cost them three hundred thousand dollars to get Donna the treatment she needed. This time. This was her fourth stint in rehab, and Carolyn could only pray it was the last. It was an expense neither Carolyn nor Ernest could argue wasn’t necessary. Private drug rehabilitation was expensive, but in Carolyn’s assessment, there was no amount of money that could keep her from trying to save her daughter, or maybe save face with her friends was more like it.

      There was no way Carolyn could stand for any of her socialite friends or any of Ernest’s business partners finding out that Donna was addicted to drugs and had been living like a virtual vagabond for the past year. The thought of anyone finding out made a chill shoot down Carolyn’s spine. She hunched her shoulders in an attempt to relax, but the dark thought still hovered in her mind. If someone did discover the truth about Donna, it would be like finding out Desiree was pregnant out of wedlock all over again. Or finding out that Junior had begun to dabble in an underworld he had no business dealing in.

      Carolyn remembered clearly how devastated she was when she found out their youngest was addicted to heroin. It was Rebecca who’d nervously told Carolyn about Donna’s addiction. Carolyn also thought back to how Ernest had screamed at her and had told her it was all her fault that another one of his children was an embarrassment to the Johnson name. He had told Carolyn that it was her “trashy” DNA and family lineage that had caused Donna to be such a disappointment. It hadn’t been the first time Ernest had used Carolyn’s upbringing against her during an argument. He’d also blamed her for Desiree’s pregnancy and Junior’s arrests. It was all Carolyn’s fault if you asked Ernest.

      The night Donna was born, Ernest had missed the entire birth—from Carolyn’s labor to the minute Donna took her first breath. Carolyn had spent sixteen hours in labor at the UChicago Hospital, and Ernest had never shown up, not even for a minute of it. Both of Ernest’s parents had come rushing into Carolyn’s private birthing room in a huff after they’d gotten the news that the newest member of the family was about to arrive. They’d left Junior and Desiree with Rebecca at the Hyde Park mansion. Neither of Ernest’s parents could explain why their son wasn’t around and why Carolyn hadn’t been able to reach him when she called. Ernest’s parents had long since stopped making excuses for Ernest, because they knew Carolyn wasn’t buying it anymore.

      Carolyn felt that they were present at the birth only because they secretly