Wandering Beauty: Generations, #2

By Suzette Riddick

Jillian Hart has reached her breaking point. Every moment of her day is seemingly consumed catering to her family's needs and wants as a wife and mother of two. Her only source of solace is the day spa, where she works as a part-time esthetician. Even that is at risk of being taken away by Ivan Hart, Jillian's demanding husband, and his unrealistic expectations. 

 

 When her husband does the unthinkable, Jillian flees with her children to Colemanville, North Carolina to the home of her maternal grandmother, Nana Flo. At her lowest, Jillian must reassess her life and confront the choices that have derailed her dream of owning a day spa specializing in esthetician services.

 

 In Colemanville with Nana Flo's help, Jillian discovers she and her great-grandmother, Iva Rae Coleman, are kindred spirits after learning intimate details about Iva's life. With this revelation, she accepts that the crumbling of her marriage was unavoidable to propel her toward her destiny to carry on the Coleman family legacy.

 

 Join the journey of this wandering beauty to see if family secrets, scandals, and her husband's determination to reconcile will hinder Jillian from fulfilling her destiny. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Heart 2 Heart Publishing, LLC
• Release date: Jun 4, 2024
• ISBN: 9780982587140

Suzette Riddick

Suzette Riddick is a wife, mother and nurse practitioner who enjoys writing about imperfect people finding perfect love. She is an Amazon Best-Selling Author and was a featured author in USA Today ~ Happy Ever After. A native of Philadelphia, PA, Suzette loves to travel, read and is addicted to Chanel parfum. To learn more about Suzette visit her website at www.suzetteriddick.com.

Book preview

One

After The Holiday Christmas Party

Are you going to stay mad at me forever, Ivan? I asked my husband with my back to him as I struggled to get the zipper on my cocktail dress down. Long gone were the days when Ivan would ease up behind me, kiss my neck, and whisper what he was going to do to me once he got me out of my clothes. The thought sent a tingle between my legs. And it annoyed me because I knew no satisfaction was coming my way to alleviate it.

It wasn’t like I was intentionally late getting home to let the caterers in to set up for the shindig Ivan threw every year for his staff. I could argue with him that I wasn’t even that late. Fifteen stinking minutes. That was it. Iesha had forgotten her book at the afterschool program. As a mother I couldn’t ignore her pitiful plea to go back for it. Although I knew I was going to be late meeting the caterers, I turned the car around anyway.

Instead of answering, Ivan yanked off his crisp white shirt and tossed it in the direction of the wingback chair in the corner. Conditioned like a trained seal, I went over to where the shirt landed on the floor, picked it up, and placed it on the chair. Tomorrow, I’d take it to the dry cleaners with the rest of our things.

Kicking off the heels that were killing my feet the entire night, I followed Ivan into the adjoining bathroom.

Ivan, I called out, just below a shout. He was starting to irritate the hell out of me. Truthfully, I was way past irritated with this man.

Before I could say anything else, he pivoted on his heels so quickly it caught me off guard, causing me to stumble back a few steps.

Jillian, you better leave me the hell alone if you know what’s good for you, Ivan snapped.

What is that supposed to mean? I demanded as I hiked up my dress and shimmied out of my pantyhose. There was no way in hell he was this angry because I wasn’t here to meet the caterers on time. 

Nostrils flared. Ivan’s hateful glare was making it hard for me to breathe around the lump forming in my throat. I shook my head, deciding I didn’t want to get into whatever we were about to get into.

You know what…forget I said anything. Stay mad for all I care. I didn’t get ten steps away before Ivan grabbed my upper arm harder than necessary.

No, you’re not going anywhere. You want to know why I’m mad?

No! Now I was pissed because I felt a lecture coming on. I wasn’t a child who needed chastising.

Yanking my arm away I went over to the chair where Ivan’s shirt was and took off my dress, leaving me in my bra and tummy control underwear. Laying my dress on top of the shirt, I turned to face him. It wasn’t the first time I noticed Ivan looking at my body that had put on an extra twenty pounds over the last few years as if he was disgusted by what he saw. What was once a passionate, healthy sex life has dwindled to a pitiful once, maybe twice a month lovemaking. Honestly, having sex with my husband was no longer fulfilling. I couldn’t remember the last time I had an orgasm. Or when his touch was tender and not mechanical. 

Earlier, as I was making my rounds playing the dutiful hostess, I noticed the office manager his father hired last year lingering at Ivan’s side. I tried ignoring it, but couldn’t help thinking that something was going on between them. If she was a plain Jane and didn’t look like Jennifer Lopez’s younger sister, I wouldn’t be concerned that my husband had possibly strayed. When I mentioned it to my sister-in-law Jackie, she said I was being paranoid.

Ever since you started picking up extra hours at the spa you’ve been slacking around here. This evening is a perfect example. Ivan’s accusation interrupted my musing.

I couldn’t help rolling my eyes. Here we go again with this nonsense. Ivan had never forgiven me for going to esthetician school when our youngest child Iesha turned five and started kindergarten. That was five years ago. When I got pregnant with our son, Van, short for Ivan Jr., during my last semester of college, we got married a month after I graduated. Back then I was content with being a stay-at-home wife and mom. Ivan’s career as a dentist in his family’s practice provided well for our family. Raising my baby and access to his credit cards to spend money on whatever I desired for the most part kept me content.

As the years went on, I needed something for me. I needed to be more than Ivan’s wife, Van and Iesha’s mother. I wanted to get up in the mornings with a purpose that belonged to me. Enrolling in esthetician school had caused a ruckus. Back then it was I expect my children and this house to be taken care of. After classes I had to rush home to make sure the house was clean, help the kids with homework, cook dinner, and perform my wifely duties, then get up the following morning at five to study and do homework. Ivan never had a reason to complain because I never dropped a juggling ball.

When I started working part-time it was as if Ivan deliberately looked for things to complain about. Like tonight.

Exasperated, I brushed by him to get my robe that was hanging on the back of the bathroom door. I could count on one hand the times dinner was late getting on the table because I ran over with a client. Or the one time I forgot to pack his shaving kit when he went out of town to a conference. Even then he wasn’t as angry with me as he was now.

Tying the belt around my waist, I asked him, What about all the times you were late, Ivan? All the kids’ events you’ve missed because you saw a patient at the last minute? Why is it any different for me? It’s not like I do this constantly. I was fifteen minutes late. Fifteen minutes. I didn’t bother giving him an explanation as to why I had been running behind.

By now that lump had grown even bigger in my throat and I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes. I couldn’t believe he was being this unreasonable.

Ivan stared at me for what felt like forever. It was almost as if he didn’t see me as his wife anymore. What he said to me next took my breath away.

Do you still want to be my wife?

Dumfounded, all I could do was stare back at him. Where was all of this coming from?

Y-yes…Ivan…

He cut me off before I could get another word out. My intent was to tell him what had held me up, make him understand that my actions weren’t deliberately meant to cause a delay in the start of his annual Christmas holiday party.

Then I suggest you start acting like it. Get your act together. And quit that damn job.

I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to forgive this ultimatum my husband had thrown at my feet.

Two

The first week of June

A gentle breeze came through the window of my car, tousling the curls on my new pixie haircut. Calling Nana Flo from my car on the mornings I went to work provided me the privacy I needed. Parked in the back of the lot far away from the businesses in the Philadelphia suburban strip mall, I didn’t have to censor myself, anxious one of the kids or Ivan would overhear me. And mostly because I would end up crying before disconnecting the call with my grandmother. I couldn’t afford having a client come up on me sitting behind the wheel bawling like a baby. Not the picture of professionalism.

After the Christmas holiday party things between Ivan and I had become a hundred times more tense. Especially since I didn’t quit my job. I might as well have quit. I went from working thirty hours a week back to the twelve hours where I started after getting my esthetician license. Van had started high school and Iesha first grade. Working three half days a week kept Ivan happy. As the kids grew older, I didn’t see anything wrong with expanding my hours at work. Van had his afterschool activities and Iesha enjoyed going to the afterschool program with her best friend and cousin Megan. 

It wasn’t enough that I waited until Van went off to college last fall to work my way up to thirty-two hours. Ivan found any excuse to complain that I wasn’t home. Even forbidding me to hire a housekeeper to come in once a week. He told me it was my job to keep his house clean. 

Refusing to resign from my job had put an enormous strain not only on our marriage, but the atmosphere in our home. Last weekend Ivan and I got into an ugly argument when he started badgering Iesha because she wasn’t practicing the violin for an hour every day. I lost it when he demanded she go to her room and stay there until he told her she could come out.

Let me tell you something, Ivan. You will not treat my child like a damn prisoner in this house. Have you ever asked her if she wants to play the violin?

I don’t have to ask her a damn thing. I’m the parent. And I say she needs to learn to play an instrument.

And what if she doesn’t? You’re gonna ask her if she still wants to be your daughter? I yelled, sick of his foolishness. I knew I had hit below the belt when the muscle in his jaw twitched like crazy.

You still there, Sugar Foot? Nana Flo inquired, snapping me out of my reverie.

Blowing out a breath of air, I answered, Yes, ma’am. Just wondering how I got here.

Nana Flo had been the only soul I’d confided in about the troubles in my marriage. Honestly, I didn’t even know if I still had one. For the first time in our eighteen-year marriage Ivan hadn’t sent me flowers on Valentine’s Day or my birthday. I couldn’t remember the last time he was home on time to eat dinner with me and Iesha. Half the time he didn’t eat the plate of food I’d put up for him. He didn’t come to bed until after I was fast asleep. The way in which he was behaving had me convinced he was cheating.

The question is Sugar Foot…are you going to stay there?

A tear trickled out the corner of my eye. What would you do, Nana Flo?

Nana Flo was silent for a second before she told me how to handle my indifferent husband. Bust Ivan upside his head.

I laughed so loud. Nana Flo joined in with me until our laughter faded.

Old lady, you trying to send me to jail?

Never, Sugar Foot. Listen to me, baby…

I laid my head against the headrest and closed my eyes. Whenever Nana Flo started with Listen to me, baby she was about to get into my world. This wasn’t a time for me to get sensitive and in my feelings. I needed to hear her wisdom.

 "I know your desire is to be a good wife. But you can only do so much, be so much, when your hands are tied behind your back. That man is snuffing the light out of you. Been doing it for years. Started with him rushing you to get married just ’cause you got pregnant. So his highfalutin family wouldn’t be embarrassed. Now you know Nana Flo don’t interfere in folks’ marriages and business. But you’re my blood. You came out of the one that came out of me. It hurts me, knowing you are in so much pain. Baby, if that man don’t know how to respect you on his own, you're gonna have to do something to show him you’re worthy of respect."

The timer on my phone went off, signaling it was time for me to end my call with Nana Flo and get to work. 

Thanks, Nana Flo. I have to go. I’ll call you on Wednesday morning. I love you.

I love you too, Sugar Foot.

Disconnecting the call, I gathered my purse and travel cup with green tea I’d brewed before leaving home this morning. As soon as I walked through the glass doors, Ruth the receptionist did a double take.

Jillian, you look fabulous!

I ran my hand down silky strands molded to my neck. You like it? 

Friday after work I sat in my stylist’s chair and told her to chop off my mid-back length hair. I’d been scrolling through Instagram and came across an old pic of Halle Berry with a pixie cut. When I showed it to Tia, she executed the cut to perfection. Afterwards, I picked Iesha up from the afterschool program and headed to the mall to buy us new summer wardrobes. Nothing in my closet fit anymore. 

To keep myself from falling into a depression, after the new year I got a membership at the Planet Fitness in the shopping plaza where I work. Thirty-minute spin classes, lifting light weights, cutting back on junk food, and eliminating sodas from my diet melted away the pounds I’d been struggling to lose for years.

Are you kidding me? I love it. Ruth beamed, making me feel beautiful and younger than my forty years. 

I gave her a tight squeeze before heading to my locker in the back to put away my purse. Thanks, Ruthie.

Ruth giggled. You’re welcome, Jillie. By the way, your nine o’clock is early. I hope you don’t mind, I put her in room one.

Not at all, I called out over my shoulder as I gave Ruth the thumbs up.

Hurrying, I put my purse in the locker. I couldn’t help looking at my reflection in the wall of mirrors opposite the lockers. My hand glided down my flat belly beneath the black short sleeve tee shirt with the salon’s logo I wore. I turned sideways to look at my jean clad butt. Couldn’t help smirking at myself because I looked damn good. Took me six months to develop better eating habits and a consistent exercise routine to not only look good, but to feel better about myself. For a brief moment I wondered what Ivan would think when he saw my new haircut. He was due to come back home from an out-of-town conference. Probably wouldn’t even notice. It wasn’t like he noticed my clothes were falling off of me from the twenty-five-pound weight loss.