Chapter 3

Jalen looked naturally cruel to anyone who didn’t know him. On top of that he was a temperamental son of bitch that could give a shit about anyone else except him, his family and maybe even a couple of people he deigned to call friend. Parker just happened to be one of the honored persons. He was back to wearing his hair in cornrolls and looked like D’Angelo, especially when he pursed his lips together in annoyance.

“How’s it feel, Jalen?” he asked coming in the office.

For his comment derived from the video the singer had done that Parker constantly teased Jalen about, Parker received the pursed lips.
“She’s here and I still want to thank you for this.”

“Thank Sophie. She’s the one putting up with the shit,” Jalen said turning off his laptop. “I suspect that you just came in here to fuck with me.”

“That and to invite you over for dinner in a couple of weeks. We’ll know by then any results.”

“Oh yeah, if the pitre disc worked? I thought God made a more natural way to have kids?” Jalen snorted. “I try to practice every day on my wife. If I could, I would practice every hour. How about you, Parker? How do you get happy with your wife?”

This was a deliberate hit below the belt to Parker’s attempt at normal.

“Some people have to resort to extra means to be happy.”

“Spending fifty thousand dollars to produce off springs is crazy. Do you know what I could have done with that money? By this time, I’d have ten college funds set up for you to donate to some third world child you could have adopted.”

Frustrated, Parker sunk down in the chair in front of Jalen’s desk. “Yeah, but it’s not the same and you know it, Jae. Look at you. Five kids. Five damn kids.”

“Two are from my wife’s first dead husband.”

“But you’re still a family. You have off spring. You have someone to carry on your bloodline and you’re sharing these moments with the woman you first fell in love with and married. I want that. I want to be you… well not all ornery and mean, but you know what I mean. I’ve been married ten years to Chyna and you weren’t even married to Kim before you were bopping out twins.”

“Well, she raped me to get mine.”

“Let’s not even go into that. I think you just harbor that over her just so you can take advantage of her.”

Jalen smirked wickedly. “It does make the mundane marriage very exciting when you can tie up your wife and make her beg for you. You should try it sometime.”

“Chyna says it might mess up her hair and hands.”

“If you can spend fifty on a baby, you can spend a couple of hundred-“

“Let’s not go into this.” Parker really didn’t want to extol upon his wife’s shallow behavior.

Jalen took the hint, understanding in advance this was a sore subject for Parker. “So, this crazy sister in law, what’s her story?”

“Nothing I haven’t already told you. Chyna says her sister is so pathetic she can’t even kill herself.”

“How many times has she tried?”

“This last one makes three.”

Jalen stopped what he was doing and frowned. “I’m not religious and all that, but she ever thought that it just wasn’t her time, and that she had a purpose in life.”

“You ever thought you’re just saying that shit because you’re an ass and you’re trying to find some hilarity out of a bad situation?” He stood up.

“So I take it you haven’t told Chyna about the boat?”

Parker didn’t answer because he knew Jalen already knew the answer. He was saving it for the moment when Chyna announced that they were going to have a baby. Knowing that they were going to dedicate eighteen more years together deserved an award and “the boat” was the key.

Yet that moment hadn’t come and he was starting to think it never would. The majority of Parker’s friends were married and those that were had children, vibrant healthy off spring. Their blood running through small versions of themselves.

And what did he have? A wife who couldn’t get pregnant, his sperm not strong enough to procreate outside of natural environments and the ability to buy anything he wanted, but having no real value in life.

He knew the layout of Jalen’s business like the back of his hand because he had personally done service to the building when he was trying to get his business up and running. Bringing in towels, picking up towels, checking on any other laundry needs and so forth. After six more accounts like Jalen’s he was able to hire five under him to work the different areas and get things done.

Parker had built a business from the ground up, with a lot of sweat, determination and long nights. He wanted the rewards from all his hard work, which was supposed to be a child. That’s what Chyna had promised him.

‘When we can afford a child, we’ll have a child, she had promised when they first became married.’

And he had waited. And then they came to the realization it was them. And then the doctors, the tests, the results and now…

Still no baby.

He was a man almost desperate, but not desperate enough to adopt.

When, his brother, Winston, and his wife adopted the baby, Parker had seen how their friends looked at them behind their backs as failures. It had been the initial steps that lead to his brother’s death. The failure stigma drove his wife insane and soon she didn’t want to look on his face.

She kicked him out and Winston had come knocking on Parker’s door asking to stay until things cooled down. Chyna didn’t want him under their roof.

“He’s a failure!” she had sneered.

So Parker convinced his brother to go back home and try to reason it out with his wife

“Adopting isn’t so bad, Winston. People do it all the time. And you shouldn’t let the shallowness of some determine what you define as family. Tell this to Jeanie. Let her know this.”

Winston had listened to his brother and what did he get? A bullet in the chest.

Parker received a call the next morning telling him that Jeanie had murdered Winston. And when they asked what to do with the child…

“Hello Mr. Mills,” Sophie said in that slow seductive voice she always used.

He couldn’t begin to count how many times Sophie had propositioned him, but he never took her up on his offer. She was beautiful, except for one thing. He was attracted to thicker women.

“Why are you out here?”

Sophie sighed. “She was dead serious about the touching, wasn’t she? I didn’t think she was that serious.”

“Is it going to be difficult? I could add another zero to that check,” he said worriedly.

“No. I’m just getting more towels. I have Lupe instructing her on how to do her eyebrows. It took some convincing, but once we let her know that uni-brows weren’t even in fashion for third world countries and that it caused a lot of pain, she seemed more receptive to it.”

‘Whatever it takes to keep her busy and better looking, just put it on my bill.”

Sophie chuckled and went inside.

His Substitite Wife... My Sister Chapter 3 (c) 2008 Sylvia Hubbard

Chapter 2.3

Shrugging, she suddenly wanted to not speak anymore and was glad at the same time, he was pulling behind a large building. She easily avoided answering the question by asking, “Where are we?”

“A friend’s place of business.”

“What is it?”

“A spa and salon.”

Suddenly it felt like the whole world was caving in on her and she couldn’t take enough air. “I-I..”

Parker was prepared for this. “It’s fine.”

“They’ll – They’ll touch me.”

“No, they won’t.” He turned off the car and turned toward her. “I’ll be there the whole time. Just trust me.”

“No!”

“Charisse!”

The tone was almost like her father’s voice and she couldn’t help but pay attention to him.

“I know about your condition and the staff is going out of their way for you. Now take deep slow breaths, Charisse, and calm down.”

“They won’t touch?”

“No. Actually you’re going to do everything yourself.”

“But-“

“Trust me.”

A warm sense of calmness filled her and she didn’t know why she should trust him,
but for some reason she felt she needed to.

‘You need him. You need his sympathy,’ she reminded herself. She held her arms tight around her waist forcing the anxiety away that was slowly building internally. “I’m not going in.”

“It’s your birthday,” he cajoled. “I figured you needed to do something nice for yourself on your birthday.”

“Who cares if it’s my birthday? I haven’t celebrated it in…” She didn’t want
to think about that. The daymares would return if she ever thought about the past.

He got out of the car and came around to her side, opening her door, while reassuring her, “They aren’t going to touch you. I know about your condition and I made them aware.”

“So, how are they going to do anything? I never go to these.”

Leaning down in the car to her, he said, “I can tell. Now let’s go.”

That fatherly tone came again and something in the back of her mind made her get out of the car even though her conscious was telling her to stay where she was.

Parker was surprised she did get out even though her face said something different. He didn’t wait around to question as to why she had obeyed, but hurried to the door to use the private entrance into the business. It was a key code that only special clients could get which lead down into the basement of the building. It was a crème colored room and long hallway in which a tall lithe elegant black woman with short hair walked down wearing a crème colored dress and crème colored heels.

“Good morning, Mr. Mills. You look great as usual.”

“Sophie, I’d like you to meet my sister in law I’ve told you about, Ms.
Sheridan,” Parker introduced the frightened looking Charisse.

The woman almost extended her hand, but stopped herself and smiled warmly. “Come with me, Ms. Sheridan, while I prepare you for your day.”

Terrified Charisse didn’t move.

“Charisse, it’s okay,” Parker said. “Sophie’s one of the best stylist and masseuse in the Metro Detroit area,” Parker assured her. “She’s understanding to your condition and she’ll help you out.”

“She’ll touch me?” Charisse asked, gripping her chest and needing assurance.

“I promise,” Sophie said. “I won’t. I’m going to instruct you to do it yourself. You look as if you’re a fast learner.”

The compliment warmed Charisse a little and she took steps forward toward Sophie, who led her away from Parker. Looking back at him, she saw Parker smiling. That look of happiness was in his eyes.

The thought that she had made him happy made her present anxiety dissipate. Quickly she looked away and forced her eyes on the ground as she walked beside Sophia.

“When was the last time you been to a salon?” Sophie asked.

“Never,” Charisse said.

With a bright smile as if she was eagerly looking forward to it, Sophie said, “It’s going to be a long day.”






His Substitute Wife ... My Sister Chapter 2.3 (c) 2008 Sylvia Hubbard

Chapter 2.2

Forty minutes later they pulled in front of a three story massive home in the Boston Edison District of Detroit’s Westside. These were old homes built so long ago some still had oil lamps on the walls.
Often turned into four family flats with taxes so high and heating cost rising, Most families couldn’t afford to stay in these. But it had been Chyna’s dream to have one of these homes since she was young.
And now her sister had it along with the handsome prince.

Parker came around in an attempt to open her door, but Charisse hurried and opened it herself and went straight to the front door.

He grabbed the box and followed her, letting her inside the home. For a moment he allowed her to marvel at the large foyer, the long hallway and the massive stairs in front of them.

Chyna had decorated the home to almost perfection. “A palace for his princess,” he remembered, saying a very long time and gave Chyna all the money she needed in order to make their home perfect.

Their friends and even the people who weren’t, were jealous of all that he had accomplished.

Clearing his throat to make Charisse look at him, he said, “Your room’s on the third floor. Did you want to take the elevator?”

“Do I look that fat and out of shape?” she asked.

“I didn’t mean to imply-“

She headed for the oak stairs and Parker stopped speaking, following by taking two stairs at a time to stay casually up with her. If she were fat and out of shape, she hid it quite well, because she didn’t break a sweat.

Chyna always took the elevator if it concerned anything above the second floor - Something about scuffing her eight thousand dollar shoes.

“It’s big,” Charisse said, coming to the top of the spacious third floor.

In one corner was the hospital bed the nurse had required and then there was
the ensconced room for the nurse. The doors to the bathroom had been taken off and a semi kitchen was in the other corner.

No metal was in the room - Including the bed.

He watched as she circled the room and then turned to him.

“I’m still a prisoner, aren’t I?” she asked miserably.

He placed the box by the bed and walked up to her. “It was the only way they would agree to release you this time. And I thought you’d enjoy the freedom if we complied.”

She expected them not to care. She expected them to be care less. Killing herself was going to be harder than she expected.

“Your nurse won’t be here for six more hours,” he said.

“Are you going to baby sit me until then?”

“Yes,” he said with that same matter of fact tone she had used earlier. “But we do have an appointment.” He checked his two thousand dollar Movado watch. “Would you like to get freshened up before we leave?”

“W-Where are we going?”

“I figured with it being your birthday, I should make special arrangements.” Impatiently, he checked his time again. “Now, if you could please freshen up, I’d appreciate it so we can leave.”

At first she wanted to be obstinate, but she figured she would need this jerk on her side when it came down to it. Getting him to see her side of it would be easy. Just like her mother had given her the tools and then Cheyenne had stopped caring, she knew if she was to get to this man, it would only be through his sympathy for her situation. In order to do that, she would have to most likely give him the truth.

She walked to the bathroom and turned to close the door out of habit, but there was no door to close.

She moved over to the sink and looked around. There was nothing in the bathroom that she could possible hurt herself with. The towels were too thick to be torn; the soap and bath products were for a child. What kind of nurse was this?

Staring in the mirror at herself, she even noticed that this had a protective plastic cover on it, so if she tried to break it, it would be next to impossible and only shatter.

Coming back out the bathroom, Parker had moved to the door and partially turned away like a true gentleman to give her some privacy.

“I’m ready,” she said.

“After you,” he said, indicating the door.

Charisse wanted to stomp like a petulant child, but she didn’t. Instead, she wrapped her arms around her waist as if she were freezing and went back down to the car. He was quick this time and had anticipated her movements.

Suavely, he blocked the passenger door and opened the front door for her.

Stopping dead in her tracks inches before getting in the car, she snapped her eyes over to him and grinded her teeth.

He met her gaze with a triumph gleam, but didn’t move from where he was.

Sliding in the front making sure she made no physical contact with him, she was so tempted to jump back out of the car while he was walking around to get in the driver’s side.

Careful not to touch her, Parker got in the car and started it up.

“Where are we going?”

“Somewhere to pass the time for six hours and it’s wireless, so I can get some work done.”

“I don’t work. I don’t have a job,” she said. “I’m too stupid to hold a job.”

“Who told you that?”

“Cheyenne.”

He looked over at her as if shocked she had said that. “That doesn’t sound like her.”

“Then you don’t know Cheyenne.” She looked forward angrily that she had not gotten her way in sitting in the rear.

After a few more moments, she asked, “I see you got your little dream up and off the ground.”

“Little dream?” he asked insulted.

Charisse explained further. “That’s what Chyna called it when she was over Cheyenne’s house crying about how you quit your job at the plant nine years ago on a hunch.”

“It wasn’t a hunch. It was an opportunity if you must know.”

“So what do you do?”

“I’m in the crate and laundry business.”

“That’s silly. What could you possibly do with that?”

She sounded a lot like Chyna, but he thought maybe he could get Charisse to understand by explaining his vision. “We’ll it started off with crates. A friend was working for this company that took the crates and disposed of them or resold them, but he was only getting so much a crate. I figured I could get more if I became a supplier instead of a deliverer,” he explained. “It worked. Not only did I start to pick from the auto plants, but also other warehouses. And they weren’t all wooden - I started on plastic crates. That expanded to stores, grocery chains and so forth. Another friend of mine started complaining about laundry services and I thought I could do better. I did and ended up picking up his business, along with salons, and other small businesses.”

By this time, she was looking seriously at him, giving him her full attention. “That’s pretty impressive.”

“I try.”

“Try? That sounds like you’re a pathetic over achiever,” she said miserably. “Who are you trying to impress?”

He was again shocked by her response. “I’m not trying to impress anyone. This is self-satisfaction for me. I always wanted to own my own business, get a great gal and have a large home.”

“You forgot the white picket fence and what about a dozen children?”

Smartly, he said, “We are trying to have children. We’ve been trying for about five years.”

“Are you serious?” Charisse asked. “Chyna agreed to have a baby?”

“Why does that sound strange to you?”

“Because she isn’t the motherly type. She’s selfish and shallow.” Feeling bad for saying negative things, she decided to apologize. “I’m sorry, that’s really none of my business. Chyna could have changed since I last killed myself.” But the snort came by just by reflex. It was so hard to lie.

“Five years ago I would agree, but Chyna has changed a lot and she’s been doing the tests and going through a lot to have a baby.”

“Going through what?”

“She didn’t tell you?’ Parker questioned. “I thought she told her sisters everything.”

“My sisters and I aren’t that close. You’re confusing me for her twin. They are close along with their sidekick, Aretha Franklin.”

He smirked. “I take it you’re talking about Joanie Bell?”

“She still rides their coattail?”

“She’s actually Cheyenne’s administrative assistant.”

Charisse rolled her eyes. “That just lets me know I’m not at the bottom of the bucket yet.”

“Can I ask you a question, Charisse?”

“What? Why I keep trying to kill myself?”

“That’s a good way of asking it.”


His Substitute Wife...My Sister Chapter 2.2(c) 2008 Sylvia Hubbard

Good Morning and Wow and Winner

Last night we acquired over 100 readers. That's pretty cool.





Winner of the Parker Mills contest is Ashwini. She guessed the correct answer to the question, What book did Parker Mills first come into play at?




The Answer is: Love Like This

Okay, I'm getting the rest of Chapter 2 together and then I'll try to post 3 as well.

BTW, if you're just joining us, you can see the live story progress on the right side bar.

If you'd like to subscribe (and you haven't already) to the updates, just click here.

Chapter 2

The three months at the facility turned into a year and a half because Charisse’s attempts to kill herself, her resistance to connect with anyone including anyone in the facility and her constant fits when people would look like they were about to touch her. From starving herself, cutting herself or being difficult to the staff, she was put in solitude so many times, her room became her sanctuary. On her twenty-eighth birthday, she was released on the condition that for three months, she had to have someone watching her twenty-four hours a day.

The money her mother had left her was enough to cover the cost. Charisse could care less. Getting out meant she could really do some damage to herself once all guard was taken off her of.

The staff packed up her room early that morning. After she took a bath, she was placed handcuffed at the wrist to a chair in the lobby with a small box of her possessions by her feet to wait for pickup.

After two hours with boredom sinking in, she was about to figure a way to get to the bathroom by herself and swallow as much liquid soap as possible, but a light gold Benz pulled up to the door in the no parking zone and Parker jumped out looking freshly done again. This time he had on a teal suit with matching shoes, an emerald green shirt, tie and shoes.

Did he have a personal designer dress him daily? No man looked so well put together all the time.

“I’m so sorry,” he said as soon as he came up to her.

She hadn’t even stood up when he approached and not because she was strapped down, but because she wanted to stress that nothing he did could affect her.

“My meeting ran over,” he explained.

With the most placid look on her face, she stared up at him. He waved his hands in front of her face to see if she was respondent to that, but she didn’t move, blink or speak.

The annoyed clerk who had been assigned with keeping an eye on Charisse, came over with the discharge paperwork, quickly explaining to Parker the attention Charisse needed and making him sign over for her like she was some kind of pet.

“Did you drug her?” he asked concerned because her expression had not changed, nor had she moved since he’d approached her.

The clerk snorted. “We wish we could, but her doctor has always insisted that she is not supposed to be given any kind of medication.”

“Where are the rest of her things?” Parker asked. “My wife said she sent boxes items here.”

“This is it,” the clerk said. “If anything we sent them back.”

“She’s been here a year and a half,” he protested. “And I never saw any of those items my wife had come back to us. She should have more things.”

Seeing Parker getting upset was something new for Charisse. Seeing anyone actually get upset over something that was an injustice for her was new too. No one had fought for her in a long time. It was hard to force herself not to look at Parker’s upset and revel in it.

“Most times,” the clerk explained, “She was locked in her room and wouldn’t keep her clothes on to avoid anyone talking to her and because of her restrictions, items sent to her was most likely sent back due to possible danger she wanted to do to herself or damage she had done to herself.”

Charisse sniggered at the reminder.

The clerk cut their eyes at her sharply, but then returned them back to Parker. “Remember, Mr. Mills. No metal objects can be in her room. Only cotton clothes, no zippers, no heels, no jewelry-“

He cut the clerk off. “I can read. Can you please uncuff her, so we can go? I have better things to do.”

The clerk huffed as she put on cotton gloves, got the keys out and then reached down slowly as if trying not to scare Charisse to unlock the leather cuff around her wrist.

Parker didn’t look pleased or amused, but took the box and started to reach to help her up.

She cringed away and he stopped coming closer.

After a moment, she stood up when she was sure he wouldn’t touch her and walked to the car. He walked ahead of her and opened the front passenger door.

Charisse deliberately moved pass him and sat herself in the back seat.

Parker gave her this strange look, placing the box on the front and then getting in the driver’s seat. By that time, Charisse had secured her seat belt and looked out the window to show that she wasn’t going to speak to him.

He played an easy listening jazz station and did not say a word to her. She was glad. No conversation meant she didn’t have to enjoy the sound of his voice.

This cell phone rung and he pushed a button on the steering wheel. The music lowered considerably and the voice of Chyna over a phone came on the front speaker system.

“You cancelled the driver to pick Charisse up?” she asked incredulously. “I just called them to confirm their pick up and drop off and they said you canceled the credit transaction. How could you be so selfish, Parker?”

“The nurse called my office and informed me because you scheduled late, they couldn’t assign anyone until this afternoon, so no one would have been at the home to… assist your sister. You didn’t answer your phone and I had to take initiatives. Plus I thought it was a rather cold way to greet your sister back to reality and on her birthday, Chyna.”

“How could you remember her birthday?”

“Because mine is tomorrow.”

“Oh... yeah. You couldn’t leave a message about all this?”

“Why should I, when you never listen to your voicemail anyway, Chyna? I handled it. I just didn’t feel comfortable with her being dumped at our house like that.”

“It wasn’t a cold way, Parker,” Chyna said defensively. “I couldn’t miss my hair appointment. You know how difficult it is to get in Shawn’s chair and you said you had an important meeting. Who else was going to get her? You know I couldn’t send Cheyenne, plus she’s refusing to even answer her phone. I think she moved and didn’t tell us. Can you believe that shit? Although I can’t blame her in not wanting this burden anymore.”

He didn’t respond to her because Chyna obviously didn’t remember he used his interior intercom in the car when answering the phone and anyone could hear his conversation if they were driving with him. “I cut my meeting short and picked her up myself. She’s in the car now.”

There was a moment’s pause as his wife realized what she had said out loud, before she asked, “You cut your meeting? But I thought this was your biggest client? So you didn’t get the deal?”

“Actually I did, Chyna. I told him how important it was for me to leave to pick up my sister in law and he cut the check personally. He said any man dedicated to family like that was a man who would be dedicated to making sure his company look good.”

“Oh goodie! So we can go out and celebrate tonight?!” Chyna asked excitedly. “I just bought the most gorgeous dress and I’m just dying to check out that new Wolfgang Puck restaurant-“

He cut her off uncomfortably, “Since it’s Charisse’s first day home, I was thinking we’d spend an evening with her.”

“We got that nurse for her,” Chyna said obviously. “She minds any attention. She hates interaction with people.”

He glanced back at Charisse, who was playing possum again. Her chest was expanding and retracting at a normal rate and her pupils stayed steady. He could tell, but he didn’t point it out. “Fine, Chyna, we’ll go.”

She squealed in delight.

He changed the subject. “Did the doctor call about your results?”

“No, but I’ve got to go,” she said abruptly. “I’ll see you tonight darling. Kisses.”

The line clicked and Parker glanced back at Charisse, who was still playing possum. He took his time perusing her as they drove home.

Unlike Cheyenne and Chyna, who were twins, Charisse must have looked more like her father. Strong model features to her face, but thick features on her body. Although this last bout in the facility and her constant hunger strikes – according to the doctor who had consulted them for her discharge – had cost Charisse’s body weight, moving her from an eighteen to a lush twelve, which was the size Chyna had been when he married her.

Yet, for the past seven years she had been in competition with Cheyenne to see how small they could get without going bulimic.

Charisse possessed thick short hair, which she just combed back. No curls not even a ponytail, she had a band about the front, but the one she wore was old and barely on her head. She wore this calf length dull gray dress that showed nothing of her figure – if she had one –some thick black stockings, and awful dirty brown penny loafers, minus the pennies, that he hadn’t seen on a woman since the eighties. Over her ugly dress, she had this red worn sweater that was filled with holes and looked like it belonged on his dead grandmother.

Opening up her dark burnt brown large eyes, she cut them to the front of the windshield.

Parker looked forward with a serious expression on the road, hoping she had not seen him studying her.

His Substitute Wife...My Sister Chapter 2 (c) 2008 Sylvia Hubbard

Author's Note: Comments, Questions, Name Changes... Oh My

Name Change from Wyatt to Parker

(Wyatt was the male character in the preview, but I changed it to Parker)

Yeah, I changed the name of the main male character for two reasons.

One) You guys know I'm lazy as hell so I pulled a character from a past story. Wanna guess which one? And you'll get a free Copy of Maniac Neighbor (Suprina you can't play. You won the past contest and that's not fair winning 2 in a row).

Two) Just couldn't feel the name Wyatt. Kept thinking evil thoughts about him. Hence why he was having an affair with the other sister.

(First one to guess it in the comments wins)

____________________________

Twins Again?

Yeah, I know it. But these are girl twins and the twin story line really has nothing to do with it. And no I'm not bringing Jerome and Tyrone back... at least I don't think so. I don't know where the hell the story is going so I can't really answer that.

_____________________________

Main Character Dying

We already know that one sister is going to die. I'm giving you that one. Now you've got to figure out which sister is the main character.

Chapter 1.2

Her doctor came in late that night to check on her. Hours upon hours of laying there staring at the ceiling made her sick and tired, but she knew there was nothing she could say to convince them to release her from the restraints. The hospital psychiatrist had been a joke and after several hours went away just shaking her head.

The nurse had even offered to come in and comb her wild matted dark hair, but Charisse gave her a look that dared the nurse to even try. To pass the time, she had been trying to painfully use her thighs and wrench the cathedra from her body. Knowing it would be painful if she succeeded, but she would cause a mess that would make them release her from the restraints.

Charisse figured they just sent the psychiatrist to pass the time until her doctor since her first suicide attempt showed up.

“I want you to check yourself in willingly to the facility,” he said.

“I don’t want to go,” Charisse said adamantly.

“And you just think I should release you, so you can do it again?”

With a matter of fact tone, she stated, “Yes, I think you should.”

“I won’t do that any more until I see some kind of significant improvement. Three months, Charisse.” He said her name correctly so she couldn’t get upset and smart with him about that.

She gave into the thought. Three months of making plans to hurt herself.

“If you agree to it, I won’t mention to your sister about sending you permanently,” the doctor warned.

Giving him her most annoyed expression, she said, “I don’t like to be threatened.”

“Then do this for the sake of doing it. I know it’ll never work and I know you’ll find another way because from your record it doesn’t matter what anyone has said to you, you still don’t think you deserve to live. It doesn’t matter that it wasn’t-“

“Shut up!” she sneered. It was the first sign of fight the doctor had seen in her and he knew and understood her weak spot, but he didn’t take the bait and pressure her with it, like her sister would have. She was still strapped down unable to move.

The room was quiet for a long moment before she miserably said, “Whatever. Do what you will.”

“I want you to take advantage of this, Charisse. I want you to heal.” He started to reach out and touch her, but withdrew his hand before making contact, knowing how upset she would become.

Touching had become a phobia of hers since… since the incident. They had diagnosed her with Aphenphosmphobia. Sometimes she still dreamed about the blood and brain matter scattered over her skin and wake up to shower vigorously for hours on end. At least she had stopped seeing it when she was awake.

The daymares had been worse than the nightmares.

Charisse hoped they never returned. The touch of clothes on her skin didn’t bother her and water seemed to bring her relief. Anything else, especially the touch of another human, she couldn’t take.

Just the thought of it made goosebumps appear on her reddish brown flawless skin.

“After your stay at the facility your sister Chyna Mills, will be given primary custody of you. Since this did happen while Cheyenne was in custody of you, I’m going to forward to the court my upset at her not watching you.”

“I’m not a baby.”

“But knowing your record and my warnings, she should have known better. I’m going to also further insist on strict precautions to be taken upon your release and-“

“WHY THE FUCK DO YOU CARE?!” she screamed with all the frustration and anger inside of her.

He held the clipboard close to her and said, “Because it’s my job.”

She didn’t’ want to hear anymore and closed her eyes to tune him and the rest of the world out. He kept talking, but she didn’t hear his words. She didn’t care and she didn’t know why he should either. ‘Just take your money and get the fuck out my life. All I want to do is die! Why won’t they just let me die?!’

The doctor finally left her alone. She knew he was going to tell her sisters of the decision, but she didn’t want to see them right now. She didn’t want to be around them ever, but there was no other family in their lives, yet if anyone knew the truth, Charisse knew the doctors wouldn’t allow them to see her anymore. She’d take that secret to her grave and hopefully that could be sooner than later.

The doors to her room opened and Charisse still pretended sleep. Whoever it was came over to the bed and stood a moment, placed something down by her table and then she heard the door closed. After a few more moments when she didn’t hear anything, Charisse breathed a sigh of relief and slowly opened her eyes.

“You’re so bad at playing possum, Charisse,” a deep voice said quietly in the dim corner of the room.

If she could scream she would have, but her voice hurt too much.

Parker Mills approached the bed looking larger than life and sinfully handsome in a custom tailored pin stripped suit. His brownish nutmeg hair was freshly cut to a medium height like Boris Kojo in the Tyler Perry film. His smooth light brown skin was flawless and he looked as if he were clean shaven by the good lord with a perfect cut moustache over his medium thick dark cerise lips. His wide jaw and arrogant chin, gracefully accentuated his thick neck and broad strong shoulders.

Parker stood only five eleven, but how he carried himself along with the brawniness of his body made him seem taller.

‘Maybe money made a man bigger,’ Charisse guessed.

Swallowing her alarm, she hoarsely asked, “Why are you sneaking in my room?”

“I wasn’t. I just have a quiet walk.”

Still being strapped on the bed, so she couldn’t look down on the floor to see if he had shoes on. Her hearing was excellent and she knew whomever came in the room walked out. This was all a moot point. “What do you want?”

He held up straws. “The nurse asked me to place them on your table by the cup Chyna just brought in.” He did this.

“Should I thank you?” she asked sarcastically.

His eyes narrowed just a little along with his head tilting, but then casually, he said, “No need.” His tone of voice sounded royally as if she should have. “I came in here to assure you that after your stay in the hospital, I won’t feel you’d be a burden to us in our home.”

Charisse thought it was odd of him to try to make her feel comfortable. This was about the longest conversation she had with her brother-in-law and he didn’t seem at all like the person Chyna made him out to be.

“My brother had asked if he could stay with us about three years back and Chyna didn’t like that, so I turned him away. The next day, his wife shot him.” A look of regret filled his dark brown mahogany eyes. “Plus, I know how you feel right now.”

“You do?” she asked sarcastically. “You’ve tried to kill yourself?”

He flushed which brought out these handsome dimples in his cheek. “No, and I don’t know anyone whose tried or accomplished. I was referring to having your stomach pumped. I ate a whole bucket of Playdoh on a dare when I was nine. They pumped my stomach and it was horrible.” He came close to the bed. So close she could smell his almond cologne and she braced herself from his proximity.

“Move back!” she snapped angrily.

He stepped back confused as to what he had done to make her get upset.

Charisse sighed trying to relax. “I don’t like … I don’t like things close to me. Touching me.”

“Oh… yes,” he said, feeling embarrassed as he remembered what Chyna had told him. “I forgot.” Now he felt uncomfortable, because he didn’t know how to respond to this.

Charisse was used to this. “Thank you, Parker, for that assurance, but hopefully by then I’ll figure a way to kill myself,” she said briskly.

The horror, shock and upset on his face because of her bluntness, almost brought her to smile at her cruel words, but she bit the inside of her lip to stop herself. It was the first in a long time that she had felt real humor at what she had done. Parker would be amusing to rile if he continued to look that upset at the thought of death.

Without another word, he left the room and Charisse almost released the smile because that was what she wanted to happen. Smiling would mean she was happy about something and Charisse wasn’t happy about anything. Still, she pursed her lips in grimace that came close but even that quickly disappeared.

It was sickening how she kept looking at all the things that were handsome about him. Chyna had said Parker was a cold man. Never smiled, never had three words to say and never talked about his crazy family.

Yet the man who had just come in there was far from that. He’d done everything Chyna had said he didn’t.

Charisse didn’t want to stay with them. Two people watching her. All the time? Damn!

Chapter 1.2 His Substitute Wife...My Sister (c) 2007 Sylvia Hubbard

Chapter 1

They say time heals all wounds, but when does the guilt of killing someone ever go away?

Charisse constantly asked herself this - Even now as she waited for her name to be called for an interview. Doing the daily grind while trying to pretend she was normal only prolonged her suffering in this world. Waking up, interacting with people, just seeing the sunlight made her hate the fact that she lived and breath.

It was all worthless and trying to get this mediocre job was not going to improve anything in her life.

Detroit’s economy was at an all time low and the fact that she hadn’t finished college made it difficult to obtain any well paying job much less a career. People made sacrifices all the time. Charisse thought when she left college to help her mother that maybe somehow something would shine her way, but it hadn’t.

Even after her mother had died she was still miserable and that woman had made sure her life had been hell on earth. Life had not gotten any better now that she was living with Cheyenne who loved to rack guilt upon her daily like she was smoothly spreading warm peanut butter over bread.

“Chinese Sheridan,” the nasal clerk called reading off her clipboard.

“It’s Shaw-reese,” she said phonetically, standing up.

The woman cut her eyes at her and Charisse knew this wasn’t going well already. Already she knew she wasn’t going to get anything from this woman much less a job.

Still, she kept her head low and walked past the woman into the room careful not to touch anyone. As the door closed, hope of working there quickly diminished.

Charisse knew it was only in pittance for the sins that would forever haunt her until the day she died. Hopefully, that would be sooner than later.

* * *

Three Days Later

The beeping of the machine was really annoying her and Charisse realized it was her heartbeat. Damn! Would she ever get it right?

Her body seemed to catch up with her mind and she began to immediately vomit the tube out of her throat. With her arms strapped down, she found herself choking and a nurse rushed in the room to help pull the tube out of her mouth.

“Calm down, Chinese.”

Her throat hurt too much for her to correct the nurse. There was an IV in one arm and some milky liquid going into her belly - Most likely nutrients to make her eat.

“You’re going to be alright. They had to pump your stomach twice, but they believe all the poison is out. It was close. That amount of poison in your system should have killed you.”

‘Thank you for nothing,’ Charisse sneered to herself. ‘Maybe if I had finished college, I would have measured it much better.’ This was a very sick thought but it made her pursed her lips to get her enlightened at the thought.

“Your sister just left.”

The elation disappeared and Charisse closed her eyes to tune the woman out. The nurse got the message and left out.

She replayed the events that got her here.

Coming home from the disappointing interview, Charisse had stopped at three different stores in order to obtain the amount of poison she needed. It wouldn’t cause suspicion like last time. Plus, she had waited until all eyes weren’t watching her anymore.

This time she thought she had it right. So how had they found her so fast to save
her life?

“No!” Cheyenne sneered, coming in the room. “I had her for two years, Mother had her for five, now it’s your turn, Chyna.”

These were her sisters. Obviously the nurse had not informed them that Charisse had awakened.

“She was thirteen when Mother had her. That time did not count,” Chyna’s sarcastic tone stated.

“It was stressful enough to… It doesn’t matter, Chyna. She’s yours. We’re not putting her in a home.”

“That’s not fair. I’m married, you’re not. You can’t begin to understand the pressure to have family members staying with you when you’re married.”

“Parker will understand. Plus the man is never home anyway to even notice a guest there.” Cheyenne came to the bed and was close enough to brush her hand against Charisse’s. A cold feeling encompassed Charisse. She fought the urge to move away from the touch, but she didn’t since was used to not touching Charisse.

‘Good,' she said to herself as she continued to listen in on her sister’s conversation.

“Why did she do it, Cheyenne?” Chyna’s tone sounded sad and frustrated. “I thought with Momma’s death, she would change. She would actually get stronger.”

“It’s obvious,” Cheyenne answered. “She thinks it’s her fault.”

“I find it amazing that she takes the weight of others on her shoulders like that. She couldn’t have done anything. None of us could.”

“Don’t you dare say that, Chyna. You knew before us all. You knew and you could have stopped it.”

“Oh now you’re going to make me feel guilty for something. I was only fifteen, remember? How could any of us know? The one without sin cast the first stone.”

Cheyenne quickly changed the subject. “She’s all yours. Do with her what you want. I’m not going to care any more. This is the third time! The third time, Chyna.”

“Quit saying it as if it’s my fault, Cheyenne. This didn’t start with us and you know it, but just as much as you feel I could have ended, so could you, sister dear.”

The room was strangely quiet and Charisse almost wanted to open her eyes because she had a feeling her sisters were doing that silent twin speaking over her.

Abruptly, Cheyenne said, “Tell her I said good bye.” She leaned over and whispered, “Giver her hell, Nessie.”

“I’ll call you when she awakes,” Chyna promised as Cheyenne walked away from the bed.

“Don’t bother. She’ll wait for the coast to be clear again and try it again. Use the money only if you have to that Mother left. Put her in the facility.”

Charisse wanted to protest, but she didn’t want to let them know she was alive. The facility?! It would keep her safe, but she didn’t want to be safe. She wanted to be dead. She wanted to be away from this miserable world and not feel anymore.

The facility wouldn’t help her. No one could. No one.

Next time she would succeed. She had to. Life would never be worth living.

His Substitute Wife...My Sister Chapter 1 (c)2008 Sylvia Hubbard

His Substitute Wife ... My Sister - About The Story

good morning and happy new year.


As we start on our journey into a story, i've got to remember the days when I was eleven and twelve.

My brother used to charge the kids to come on our porch to listen to me tell a story and I'd make sure I'd leave it at a cliffhanger so they could come back the next day to listen to more.

Well now instead of a porch, I have a blog and it's here for you to gather around and listen to a story of two people tyring to find the truth in themselves, in life and in love.

Happy endings are never planned, they're desired.

So in that elusive statement, let's begin...

His Substitute Wife ... My Sister

Life has never been worth living for Charisse before her father died. After three attempts to kill herself were unsuccessful, she makes a deal for release from hell on earth, with one of the people who made her life whta it was.

It wasn't until Chyna finds out that her husband, Parker Mills was having an affair with her twin sister, Cheyenne, that she realizes she's losing the best thing she's ever had. Feeling the ultimate betrayal by her own sibling, Chyna knows she has to whatever it takes to keep her husband and give him what he longs for - a baby. Knowing that she's unable to have children and Cheyenne is afflicted with the same condition, she decides to go to the only person that can help her save her marriage - her younger sister, Charisse.

In the end, one sister will die, another will lose everything and one will get everything that she wants.

Chapter Breakdowns

1, 1.2, 2, 2.2,2.3, 3, 3.2, 4, 4.2, 5, 6, 7, 7.2, 7.3, 8, 8, 8.2, 8.3, 9, 9.2, 10, 10.2, 10.3, 11, 11.2, 11.3, 12, 12.2, 13, 13.2, 13.3, 13.4, 14, 15, 16, 16.2, 17, 18, 18.2, 18.3, 19, 19.2, 19.3,20, 20.2, 20.3, 21, 21.2, 21.3, 22, 22.2, 23, 23.2, 23.3, 23.4, 24, 24.2, 24.3, 24.4, 25, 25.2, 25.3, 25.4, 26, 27, 27.2, 28, 28.2, 28.3, 29, 29.2, 30, 30.2, 30.3, 31, 31.2, 31.3, 31.4, 32, 32.2, 32.3, 33, 33.2, 34, 34.2, 35, 35.2

Author note update (1/16/08)

If you're a new reader, please introduce yourself below and you can subscribe to this blog for updates of the story at: http://www.feedburner.com/fb/a/emailverifySubmit?feedId=617662

His Substitue Wife...My Sister

ONE MORE DAY!!!








Tomorrow we start our journey into a new live story and the erractic mind of author, Sylvia Hubbard.

I'm excited about the signups I see and I hope you guys are just as excited.

I'll try to post early and try to get them coming, but remember, gotta invite friends and gotta comments

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Read an excerpt, click here: http://sylviahubbard.blogspot.com/2007/12/coming-in-january-his-substitute-wifemy.html