Book Cover Reveal and Excerpt - A Fool and Her Honey

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A Fool and Her Honey

Three women who all play the fool for love . . . in one way or another.

Candis has never been good at picking a suitable mate, enduring heartbreak after heartbreak. Coming to the conclusion that divine intervention would be best, she solicits God's help through a quick prayer, promising faithful church attendance in exchange for a good man. And only a fool like her would believe that her prayer has been answered when she meets and falls in love with SeanMichael - a man whom she's only communicated with through Facebook.  Shunning the warnings of her two best friends, Candis engages in a full blown, cross-country relationship, never laying eyes on her "God -sent" man until days before she marries him. 

Dina is engaged to the perfect man. Bertrand is sweet, charming, established, is crazy in love, crazy in bed and is not afraid to commit. Marrying him should be a no-brainer but Dina's still carrying heavy baggage from her previous marriage and she's determined not to be the same fool twice. Candis and Celeste find no fault in Bertrand but Dina has a sneaking suspicion that there's more to him than meets the eye. 

When they took their vows, all Celeste wanted was a man who would love her forever, and all Equanto wanted was place to lay his head other than the sidewalk streets. Now with three kids and a strong conviction for honoring the vows she made before God, Celeste would rather work through their ugly issues than discard her dysfunctional marriage. Celeste feels like fool for holding on to Equanto, but feels equally foolish for considering letting him go. No matter how frustrated she is with his irresponsible and irrational acts, her boys need a father figure, and at least she's got a man that she can actually see and put her hands on - unlike Candis.. When her life is suddenly on the on the line, Celeste has to push foolishness to the side and decide what's best for her and her family.

A Fool and Her Honey - novel of risks and rewards. Will a fool and her honey be easily parted? 

 

Click here to meet Dina  -  Click here to meet Celeste  -  Click here to meet Candis

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A Fool and Her Honey - Candis

A Fool and Her Honey - A Novel
Coming March 2013

Candis' Story

Give me a head full of curly hair and call me Joan Clayton from Girlfriends, because I'm pretty desperate for a man. I came to this realization a few weeks ago as I was sitting at my desk browsing through a thousand emails, sipping a cup of made-at-home gourmet coffee, and reviewing my priorities calendar. I was supposed to be designing and sending out my electronic invitation for my thirtieth birthday bash, coming up in just four short weeks, but got sidetracked when I realized I'd be entering my thirties without a love interest. Yeah. I'm about to say goodbye to my twenties and greet the big three oh, and I just knew I'd have a steady man in my life by now.

Every single birthday for the past eight years, I've spent with my girls Celeste and Dina. There's nothing like being celebrated by your best friends on your day, but just once I'd like to spend it being romanced by a man who actually loves me. Hell, at this point, I'd settle for one who just likes me a lot. Unfortunately, this year looked like it would be like all the years that had come before it. Hot lovemaking and cuddling substituted by the buzzing sound of a battery-operated adult toy.

"Oh well," maybe next year, I sighed as I reached for my buzzing phone, already knowing it was Dina calling to see if I'd still make our weekly brunch tomorrow. "Hey girl."

"Hey, you are still coming right?"

Dina knew me well. I had a habit of burying myself with work and forsaking my friends. I'd always have good intentions on going, but more often than not, something would prevent me from following through up...something like, I just didn't feel like getting dressed. 

"Yep, I'll be there."

"You always say that Candis. I've already talked to Celeste and she's coming so you better come," she chided.

"Dina, I'm going to be there," I commit again. Honestly, I could use some time with my girlfriends after the week I've had. I finally decided to completely break it off with Russell about a month before, and was currently suffering through withdrawals.

After Russell left that last night we were together simply for convenient sex purposes, I must have cried for about an hour, feeling empty, defeated, useless, and unhappy because overall the relationship was completely unfulfilling. At least for me it was for me. Russell was probably quite content, but our relationship left a lot to be desired as far as I was concerned. Did I not deserve happiness and success? I wasn't one to embrace karma per se, but I'd heard forever that you reap what you sow, and God don't like ugly. So I had to wonder what had I done so ugly in my life that God was getting me back with a string of relationship failures?
            Okay, there was that one time that I slept with Cynthia Parkinson's husband. And by one time, I mean I've only messed with somebody's husband one time. Chad and I had a full blown affair that lasted more than a year (birthdays not included!). Yeah, I fell for that typical stuff men say when they are trying to land an extra piece of ass instead of going home to their wives.

She doesn't pay me any attention.

She's not attentive to my needs.

We're having problems and about to divorce.

We're together only for the kids' sake.

We're separated right now.

I believed every word of it and before I could stop myself, I was pulling down my panties for Chad on the regular, and waiting for him to leave his wife.

Got my butt beat because of Chad!

Then it didn't help that sex with Chad was some of the best sex I ever had in my life. And I had quite a few lovers that I could compare him to. Chad had me sprung. He was sensitive and skillful; he stayed tuned in to my reactions to his touch, his kiss, his speed and his stroke. Chad loved me up so good that just the thought of him made me run to get my Silver Bullet toy. I even showed him how to use it on me once, and like an honor roll student, he mastered it in a snap and combined it with his own tricks and turned me out something terrible. Sex that good is hard to come by, so I had to wonder what the hell was wrong with his wife that she couldn't get her act together and keep her man happy. If I were Chad's wife, I'd be doing whatever he wanted me to do all day every day.

Feeling guilty but believing his lies, I did try to hold out to be Chad's new wife. With the way he was coming over to my place all the time and rolling around in my bed like we were married, I'd convinced myself that they had to be separated because what wife wouldn't have a whole lot to say about her husband being gone all the time, or eventually followed him (or had him followed) to find out what the hell was going on with her missing man?

During the time that we dated, that man brought me flowers, told me I was beautiful, gave me all kind of gifts from jewelry to furniture to cold hard cash for lining the inside of my purse. And did I mention the sex? It was all good until his wife found out and showed up at my door one day looking for a fight. Even if I hadn't been caught off guard, I could barely stomp a spider without running scared, so fighting someone was out of the question. She beat my ass good. Hair snatched out, eye blackened, lip busted up, earring yanked out. All of that. I've never been so humiliated in my life. And even with that said, I can't even blame the woman. I had it coming. I was screwing her man, I knew it and I knew better. Needless to say, I never gave Chad another thought after that, even after he left me a million voicemail apologies and came over multiple times ringing the doorbell until I thought it would fall off the frame of the house. Wasn't that much good sex in the world to take another beat down like the one she gave me that day.

Ashamed to admit it, but that's me on the floor. 

I was grateful that she'd only used her fists (and feet) instead of showing up with a gun or crowbar, and I swore off dating for a good while after that while I tried to get myself together both physically and mentally.  I was scared for a long time, not knowing if Cynthia was satisfied with the punishment she gave me, or if I'd be out shopping somewhere, or god forbid meeting a client and she decided what she gave me wasn't good enough. My worst nightmare was to have her pop out of the bushes and go to waling on me all over again. I did think about pressing charges, but I couldn't do that in good conscious, knowing the damage I'd done to her marriage, her family and probably to her self-esteem.

I did take some safety measures though. Right away, I had a security system installed at my home, and looked into some martial arts based self-defense classes. I never did go to them; owning a gun, even it was only to fire a warning shot into the air to scare her if I needed to, seemed like a better use of my time and money.

Anyway, like I said, after that fiasco I swore of dating all together for a long while. It just wasn't worth the drama to me. And as long as I kept a few batteries around the house, I was able to take the edge off of my private sexual tension, and if I ran out of good batteries, I knew how to use my fingers. But real talk, a toy and a finger wiggle is no substitute for a warm blooded man, and I got tired of laying up in my bed with a buzzer all the time. We all want someone to love us and love on us, right? I don't know a single person who doesn't appreciate the words of the late Teddy Pendergrass -   It's so good loving somebody and somebody loves you back. Which is what I was hoping for when I'd met Russell, but that turned out to be a waste of my time and my emotions. I'll get to him later.

I had to come up with a better strategy for getting and keeping a real man. Maybe if I would just pray about it, God had somebody in mind that he wouldn't mind hooking me up with. If anybody knew about a good man, He did. And I had to have asked God to forgive me for the whole Chad thing at least one hundred times. So was it that He didn't hear me, He didn't forgive me, or was it that I just never took the time to ask Him to give me a man, tailor made for me?  How many times had I heard that He could do the impossible, or nothing is impossible with him?  Lots of times.  I knew He still made good men who were capable of loving a woman because look at Dina's man, Betrand. If there has ever been such thing as a man in love, Bertrand is the perfect example. With a smile as wide as the ocean, he said he fell in love with Dina at first sight, and all Dina had been doing was standing in line at the post office to get a book of stamps.  He saw her, he approached her, he swept her clean off her feet, and he proposed to her in less than six months' time.

"Please send me a man Lord.  Amen."

Had he not come along, I don't know if I would have thought that there were men like that were still out there. To date, none of them ever came my way, that's for damn sure. I was almost convinced that attached somewhere on my body was a sign only visible to the most doggish of men that read "For a good time, stop here." Every last one of my relationships involved a man who was absolutely no good for me, but I had always been too foolish to see it, giving them my all and getting almost nothing in return. 

I couldn't take another year of this mess. Obviously I didn't know how to pick a man, so why not let God do it for me. He orchestrated a couple of hook-ups in the bible, didn't He? Well if he did it for others, He could do it for me, so with nothing to lose, I decided to ask him.

"I'll make a deal with you God; I'll go to church  and you bring me a good man. One that loves you and will love me the way I need to be loved.  Deal?"

Alright. Now let's see what happens.

A Fool and Her Honey
 - a novel

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A Fool and Her Honey - Celeste

Smiling to keep from crying

Celeste

Believe it or not, the best part of my day was getting out of my own home and going to work just so I could get away from my husband for eight hours, and I didn't even like my job that much. The best part of his day was probably seeing me leave, because he'd have the next eight hours to do what he did best - absolutely nothing, when he was between jobs like now. That's how it's been for every single year of our marriage. Maybe I could make it through one more day.

With a sigh, I sat up, planted my feet on the floor and got up for the day, leaving Equanto on his side of the bed snoring as usual. I only had a few minutes to spend to myself in the bathroom to care of my personal business, and get dressed before I'd have the kids on my heels with our daily school and daycare drop off routine. And if I expected to enjoy my cup of coffee in peace this morning, I needed to hustle.  

Before I stood up, I reached towards the foot of the bed, grabbed my robe, slipped my arms into the sleeves and pulled it around my body as soon as I stood up. I didn't Equanto to crack his eyes and catch site of my almost naked body on my way to the bathroom. Every time he saw me scantily clad he would make some kind of comment in reference to my weight, not to mention him seeing me butt -bald naked.

I knew I needed to lose some weight, and by some, I meant two hundred pounds, as my current weight was right at three fifty six. That's what having babies can do to a woman.  That, and my worse catch twenty two ever; when I don't feel good about my weight, I get depressed, and when I get depressed I eat a lot. When I eat alot, I gain weight, and when I gain weight, I don't feel good about it. It wasn't like I didn't try to control it; I did. Seems like every other day, I was trying to be on a diet.

This is what keeps me sane!

A restriction diet, calorie counting, the watermelon diet, the no carbs diet, the rice diet, Atkins, Jenny Craig, the Master Cleanse, HCG drops - you name it, I've tried it at least for a day or two, but have never been successful because I just love good food. I love the way it tastes and how it feels in my mouth. It's comforting to me when my world is in disarray, which was most of the time. Nothing makes me feel as good as a great plate of food - some fried chicken, candied yams, butter beans with bacon cooked in, homemade macaroni and cheese, cornbread, buttery biscuits, coconut cake, deep fried pies, chocolate chip cookies...I can go on forever. A few pieces of carrot and a handful of grapes with a boiled egg and a cup of yogurt just doesn't do a thing for me but make me cranky and irritable. I have enough drama going on in my home without me contributing to it with rabbit styled eating habits. To make sure my day was off to a good start, I planned to cook the kids homemade waffles topped with strawberry preserves, scrambled eggs with cheese, and sausage. The kind that comes in a plastic roll that has to be formed into patties by hand, then fried up in a pan. Lawd that's some good eating right there!  I hurried through my shower to give me enough time to cook before I had to get the kids off to school.

It took about ten minutes of quick cooking to create and aroma powerful enough to call the kids out of their sleep. Linwood padded into the kitchen first, rubbing his eyes.

"Good morning mommy," he mumbled, throwing his arms around my waist when he reached me.

"Good morning baby. You hungry?"

"Yes. I was dreaming that I was eating pancakes then I woke up."

"How about waffles instead?"

"Yummy!" he smiled, looking over at the waffle maker to check the ready light indicator. "Is it done yet?"

            "Go wash your face and brush your teeth and wake your brothers up; then you can eat."

The loves of my life! - my boys!

Once the three of them, Linwood, Quincy and Jerrod were seated and eating, I rushed to my bedroom and pulled on a pair of elastic-waist black pants and a camisole, curled my hair and threw on some makeup.  My favorite royal blue blouse was laid out on the back of a chair. The office staff at the realty company I worked at as an admin had to take new badge pictures at work, and the blouse went well with my skin tone and made me look radiant... and not so big, which was good for photos.

"You make me a plate," Equanto asks, still reclined but reaching over to the nightstand to get the TV remote.

            Oh god; he's up.

"No, but there's some food in there on the stove when you get ready to eat," I answer, not looking at him but instead pulling at my eyes to apply my eyeliner.

"Okay, I'm ready to eat now."

"Great. The kitchen is in the same place as it was last night when you went to bed E. I know you remember where it is."

"So you can't serve your man?"

"Are you going to get the kids dressed?"

"How long is it gonna take you to put some food on a plate and bring it in here?" he asked, disregarding my question.

"It'll take me no time today, because I'm not going to do it."

"See. That's messed up right there."

"Yeah, whatever." I walked out the bedroom to attend to the children, leaving him mumbling words that I'd rather not hear under his breath. I'd heard them all before anyway; he was just calling me names, and I didn't have time to get my emotions all worked up this morning.

While I dressed the kids, Equanto yelled from the bedroom.

"I'm 'bout to get dressed and I'ma need the car today, so don't leave me. I'll drop you off for work."

"What do you need the car for Equanto?"

"I got some things to do today," he said appearing in the doorway of the boys' room, bare chested and in his boxers.

"Like what?"

My Honey - Equanto

I already knew that he had nothing to do but wreak havoc on our lives, both mine and his own. We'd been through this type of thing a million times before. Whenever he needed to use the car, something crazy would happen. Crazy, like, he'd be on the way to give the landlord the rent money but stopped by the convenience store to get a soda and left the money on the front seat of the car because he forgot about it, and when he came back out, the money was gone. Crazy like, as soon as he cashed his check, some dudes came up to car while was at the light, held a gun to his head and demanded his wallet, then took all the money out and threw the wallet back in the car, hitting him in the face with it. Crazy like, he made a mistake and left the front door unlocked when he went to the grocery store and when he came back, someone had come in the house and took all the boys' video games, but left the rest of the house intact. Hell no he wasn't getting the car.

"I need to go check on this job one of my boys told me about that pays more money than the one I was trying to get."

"Just call them because you're not getting this car."

"Call them?" He crinkled his brows. "Don't nobody be taking job applications over the phone no more."

"Well I don't know what you're gonna do then," I shrugged pushing past him to put my blouse on and complete my look. The two minutes it took me to finish getting dressed and throw on some accessories, were the same two minutes it took my husband to grab and hide my keys and my cell phone. He watched me circle the house, turning stuff upside down in a complete panic, having a cussin' screaming fit for twenty minutes, while he lay back on the bed watching BET.

"I gotta go to work E; stop playing!" I was on my last and final leg at work for being late and having to miss work, and I was in no mood to lose my job.

"Ain't nobody playing. Get your ass out there and catch the bus if you gotta leave."

"You know damn well that's gonna make me late for work!" If I didn't get out of that house in the next two minutes, I'd never make it to downtown Phoenix in time for work.

"I told you, I don't know what you did with them."

"It's not about what I did with them; it's what you did with them."

"I ain't had 'em," he lied.

Frustrated, angry and in tears, I called Candis, hoping her day wasn't jammed packed with appointments. Hearing how upset I was, I didn't have to say much to get her to willingly pick me and the kids up, drop me off at work and take my boys to school, but by the time I got to work, it was too late.  I'd already been written up a few times for being late, and most of the time it was for this same type of mess, and by me being late, and not calling, my boss had no more tolerance. He had termination papers waiting on me when I got there...an hour and a half into my shift.

I didn't call Candis back for a ride a second time. I cried first as I walked to the bus stop, then instead of going home where I wasn't sure if I'd be able to control my emotions enough to keep from killing my husband, I took the bus that would drop me off near Golden Corral.

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A Fool and Her Honey - Dina

 

What is he up too?

I don't care who you are, where you came from and how good you can work your goody box; if you're a woman who's ever been in a relationship, you've been cheated on. And what I want to know is, why is it that heffas think just because ten years pass by, you forgot all about the time they slept with your damn man, and then they wanna be grinnin' in your face like the two of you are best friends? I wanted to punch Vanisha Yarborough dead in the jaw when I saw her earlier today.  I was stopping by the Food Lion to pick up a cup of yogurt on my way to church and she spotted me from across the parking lot.

"Dina!" she called.  I looked up and saw her getting out of her car but I didn't have my glasses on to readily identify her, not that that would have made a whole lot of difference. Since I've done some of everybody's hair in Laveen, I was thinking she could have been any old body, so I waited the few seconds it took for her to come into focus.

"Damn!" I mumbled under my breath.

"Girl how you doing?"

That skanky heffa Vanisha

"Hey Vanisha." I gave a half smile like I'd let bygones be bygones, but just like that, I felt disdain bubbling in my stomach, wanting to turn into spit and be hurled out of my mouth towards her. The Christian part of me fought against it and won. Even if I wasn't a Christian, I don't think I could ever spit in somebody's face.

"You look good!" she comments circling me with her eyes. I refrain from rolling mine.

"Thanks."

"So what're you doing now? How's Camm?"

Camm is my ex-husband, and I don't care that we're no longer together, I still can't appreciate what the two of them did behind my back, and practically in my face.

"I have no idea," I shrug. "Look, I'm in a bit of a rush; I'm trying to get to church on time." I say digging in my purse for nothing in particular, but it makes me look busy and in a rush.

"Oh okay! Don't let me hold you then! Look me up on Facebook so we can catch up!" She backs away from me headed to another store in the strip mall.

"Alright girl; take care."

Seeing Vanisha wrecked my morning mood, and that's just like the devil. Soon as you purpose in your heart that you're going to have a good day no matter what, here he comes with some foolishness to make you regret getting out of bed at all. 

I grabbed my yogurt, got back in my car and tried to refocus on having a great day, but my mind had a mind of its own and travelled back ten years when I was young, dumb, naive and so in love with Camm, I didn't believe he had a fault anywhere in his being. And like blinded fool, I ignored what was right in front of me.

Vanisha and I had been friends all through high school, with me envying her style, her smile and her happy-go-lucky attitude. I don't know how we got to be friends because she was one of those fast-tailed girls who'd made a name for herself by having sex with various boys after school, and sometimes during school when she skipped classes. I wasn't interested in having sex with anybody, but I found her taboo adventures exciting.

"Girl, he got a big ol' dick," she told me about so many of the boys we went to school with - just pick a name. "We stayed after yesterday and did it in the girls' locker room in the ninth grade gym."

"For real?" My eyes had to be stretched as wide as the moon. "What do it feel like though?"

She jerked her head back like I was asking the most asinine question in the world. "It felt good!"

I didn't know how to interpret that, and I wasn't ready to find out for myself, so I'd have to take her word for it. By the time we'd graduated, she'd had more sex partners than my momma had years of her life.

Even with me knowing how loose she was, I thought our friendship was stronger than her promiscuity, so I had no problem with her meeting and knowing about Camm.  I'd met Camm when I was eighteen, walking home from Vanisha's house after she had spent eight hours braiding my hair. He was hot and sweaty from chasing a basketball around on the court, but seemed smitten to meet my acquaintance in passing. We hit it off right away, and I found him adorably sweet, handsome and respectful. After a couple months of dating, we were inseparable when he wasn't in class. I gave that man my heart, my soul the very essence of my womanhood. And he graciously and gently took it. It wasn't long before I got pregnant, and although we were young, we decided marriage was the right thing to do.

My Cheating Ex - Camm

Vanisha was the maid of honor in my wedding, stood right there staring at my coochie when I gave birth to my baby girl Tiara, and held my hand when I couldn't stop crying after Tiara's underdeveloped lungs wouldn't allow her to live past two days. Vanisha was my homegirl, my sista-friend, my ace-boon-coon.

Before I turned twenty, Camm and I had two more kids, Emanuel and Lamont (how's that for catching up with sex) and were both working full-time jobs, trying our best to make a life for ourselves and the kids. Camm ended up dropping out of college to become a full-time dad, husband and employee of Anheuser Busch . It wasn't the best life, but I was happy being Mrs. Camm Allen

Now here is where I started messing up. See, Camm was my first. All I'd learned about sex, or what I thought sex should be, I learned from Vanisha's explicit stories, erotica books, movie scenes and misogynistic video of girls shaking their booties on the BET channel. My mother was far too prudish to have any real sex conversations with me other than the instructions to keep my panties up.

Like every woman before me who's opened her legs for the man she loves, I wanted to sex him out of his mind. From what I'd seen on videos and such, I was expecting a certain reaction out of Camm, I wanted to hear some 'ooohs' and 'ahhhhs',  some 'oh babies' and 'oh my gods!'. I wanted to see his face contort uncontrollably and hear a series of cuss words leave his lips before he would collapse in a heap on top of me panting, "damn Dina girl!" But most times when Camm and I made love, he was silent, and rhythmic - never calling my name, never losing himself in a series of gasps, never having to catch his breath. His expression always looked stoic and disengaged; nothing like I'd seen on TV.

 I tried to provoke his responses by adding my own sound effects, moaning his name to stroke his ego, although honestly, I hadn't really felt anything to make me do that. Nonetheless, I thought if I'd made him believe he was puttin' it down, it would make him more responsive. Well, it didn't work, and when it didn't, what did my stupid behind do? I asked Vanisha for some sex tips.

"I don't know what I'm doing wrong," I complained day, standing in the middle of her apartment dancing to videos.  "He just seems like he doesn't enjoy it."

"Girl you gotta know how to work that thang!" she laughed, twisting a single leg in a circular motion and rotating her hips in a way that she probably could make some money for if she was in a strip joint. "I mean, what do you be doing?"

I shrugged. "What you mean?"

"You don't just be laying there like a board do you?"

"No," I answered embarrassed. "I be into it, moving and stuff," I said trying to defend myself. "But it's like," I shrugged again. "I don't know - like he's bored or something."

"Hmph! I don't know what kinda sex y'all be having that he be acting bored. Do you be going down on him?" She'd asked just as easily as if she would have been asking for a stick of chewing gum.

"I mean I...we...." I didn't know how to answer that question, ashamed to admit that I'd put my husband's thing-a-ling in my mouth, but at the same time, ashamed to say that I didn't.

"Maybe you need to do that," she commented when I couldn't get any words to come out of my mouth. "Girl men love that," she grinned and nodded. "If that don't make him cuss, you're definitely doing something wrong."

Vanisha and Camm - Right in front of my face!

It wasn't long after that conversation that all of a sudden Vanisha started coming over all the damn time. "Oh, I'll watch the kids," she'd offer. "Girl I was just dropping by; I didn't want nothing," she'd say. "You mind if I do a load of laundry over here at your house? My washer won't spin."

I, being the unsuspecting dummy that I was back then let her conniving ass come right on in. And like a vulture waiting for a wild animal to die, she circled a few times, then came in for a landing - right in my and Camm's bed. I never actually caught them doing the do, and I guess that's why I ignored what was right in front of me - believing that Camm could and would only make love to me. I trusted him; I trusted her. When I became suspicious for obvious reason and questioned Camm about it, he did what all men do, deny and lie. Camm made up outrageous stories about how it was that he was supposed to be at work, but ended up at her house first because she'd called asking for a jump. And how he was just sitting at home minding his business while I was out getting a pedicure when she came over asking if she take a shower at our house because her water got cut off.  And how... well I don't want to think about it anymore, but let's just say my momma raised a damn fool. Except I didn't realize it then like I do now.

I never realized until today just how hurt I still was over the thought that Camm had screwed another woman, my best friend at that.  I also realize now how much I hate her and Camm for it. I thought I had let that mess go, especially after Camm and I divorced (for a number of reasons, which she happened to not be one of them because like I said, I was too stupid to trust and act on what I innately knew. Now here I was with a cup of yogurt and a bottle of orange juice in my hands, headed to the house of the Lord with a heart full of hate.

My Honey - Bertrand. 

"Work on me Jesus," I whisper as a prayer, because I don't want to hate anybody, but I don't know how to get rid of that hurt and betrayal. "Help me Lord," I add, because tears are now welling in my eyes. Not specifically because of my recollections of Vanisha and Camm, but because of the panties that I found tucked in Bertrand's drawer the other week, and I'm wondering am I being a fool all over again. 

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