Millionaire Wives Club by Tu-Shonda Whitaker Page A

think my daddy, the man-daddy, doesn’t like me?”
    Chaunci had always sworn that she would be the type of mother who was open and honest with her child. She promised that she would never speak an ill word about Kobi’s father, but the older Kobi got the harder it was not to say that her father was an asshole. That when Chaunci had told him she was pregnant he had lost his mind and tossed three hundred dollars in the air for an abortion, not caring that Chaunci’s pregnancy was too far along for that.
    Chaunci looked at Kobi and thought about ignoring the question altogether, but seeing the intensity with which Kobi watched her she said, “Your daddy is a great man, he loves you, and we’ll talk about him later.”
    “Well, Mommy, when is later? Because every time I ask, you always say ‘later,’ and later never comes. I keep waiting and waiting, looking at the clock, and later is taking its own sweet time.”
    “You’re too grown,” Chaunci admonished Kobi.
    “Why does everyone keep saying that? Can I sleep in your room?”
    “Only for tonight. Now go put on your pajamas.”
    “I want to sleep in this.”
    “Okay, well, I have to go. And you know the rules, no candy and nothing to drink.”
    “We have to pray, Mommy,” Kobi said as Chaunci headed toward the door. Kobi kneeled on the floor. “Mommy, come on.”
    Chaunci knew she couldn’t refuse, especially since this was their nightly ritual, but she hoped like hell she wouldn’t pop the hooks and eyes on her corset. She started to tell Kobi that in the interest of her girdle, she needed to pray standing up, but since Kobi didn’t know what a girdle was, Chaunci grinned and bore it, while slyly practicing breathing techniques. She kneeled. “Okay Kobi, it’s your turn to lead the prayer.”
    “Mommy,” Kobi whispered, “I always forget if I’m supposed to begin by saying Amen.”
    “No,” Chaunci whispered back, “you save that for the end. Start with ‘Now I lay me down to sleep.’”
    “Okay.” She began to pray, “Now I lay me down to sleep—Wait, I forgot to say, ‘Hi, God, how are you? I hope you’re fine, and I hope You and Jesus had a good day, too—’”
    “Kobi, God always has a good day.”
    “But we don’t know that, Mommy, and you said it’s rude not to ask people how their day was… Oh, and Anty Dextra said it’s rude to interrupt people when they prayin’, too.”
    “Just pray.” Chaunci laughed.
    “Okay. Now I lay me down to sleep. I pray the Lord my soul to keep. If I should die—Wait, I don’t like that part. I’ma skip it. Dear God, bless my grandma, my pop-pop, Anty Dextra … God, canyou ask my mommy to get me a dog? Oh, and God bless my mommy so that we can get a new husband. No one likes Edmon—”
    “Kobi!”
    “Sorry.”
    “Now finish praying.”
    “You think God is asleep, Mommy?”
    “No, Kobi.”
    “He doesn’t have a bedtime?”
    “Finish praying, Kobi.”
    “I’m done. Bye, God. Amen.”
    They rose from the floor and Kobi hopped into bed. “Goodnight,” Chaunci said. “Good-night and Mommy loves you.”
    “I love you too, and you look real fly.” “Don’t I always?” Chaunci started to pose.
    “Work it, Mommy!” Kobi screamed as Chaunci closed the door behind her and stepped into the living room, where Dextra was.
    “Anty Dextra,” Chaunci snapped, walking into the living room, where her au pair was directing the contestant on
Wheel of Fortune
to buy a vowel.
    “Yes, chile,” Dextra said in her thick Trinidadian accent, never once taking her eyes from the TV. “Aiye-yi-yi, but what de hell is dis? Just buy an
A!”
She looked up at Chaunci. “You look beautiful.”
    Chaunci sucked in a breath and a smile ran across her lips. “Good-night, Anty.”
    Dextra smiled. “Good-night.” She looked back at the TV, and as Chaunci closed the door she heard Dextra solving the puzzle.

The Club
    T he glow of the full moon complemented the flashing lights of the paparazzi as the