The Vows We Break

by Briana Cole

  I had wheeled my car around the neighborhood for a moment, taking in the new construction brick exteriors, the saltwater pool, the playground with its monkey bars and plastic tubular slides glistening in the afternoon sun. The unit for sale was in the cul-de-sac at the end of a long, winding street. That was a plus at least.

  I had pulled in front of the garage and called the agent on the yard sign, and she had met me at the home within twenty minutes. And she came ready for the sale. She showed me all the bells and whistles the place had to offer, from the brand-new concrete floors, stainless steel appliances, and massive master bedroom with the adjoining sitting room and mini balcony overlooking the fenced backyard. I had even pictured Jamaal’s nursery in the bedroom right across from mine. Even the owner’s contemporary furniture matched my style, and I had asked could I purchase that as well. Shit, might as well make it easy on everyone.

  By the time we left, I was 50 percent sold on dropping the $345,000 on the home. Well, maybe 49 percent. The other 51 percent—I had to admit it was the majority—I was wanting to know what Jahmad thought about it. Sure, things had been better between us, but his position on whether I should or should not get the house was the determining factor in our relationship. And part of me was hoping and praying he would be adamantly against it. That, at least, would let me know he was ready for me to finally move in and we could raise this baby together.

  I stuffed the agent’s card in my purse on a sigh. I would discuss it with him later. For now, I had to see what urgent business was going on with my parents. And, most important, get answers to all this gossip Tonya had been talking about at church.

  At first glance, the pearl white Infiniti truck didn’t appear out of place. Black rims and dark tint made the truck more conspicuous, sure, but it seemed just as casually parked as all of the other vehicles against the curb in this neighborhood. No, the thing that had me lifting an eyebrow was I could have sworn I had seen that same truck at the property I had just left. I stared at the truck a little longer, trying to detect if I could see a little movement through the windshield. Nothing. I was probably drawing false conclusions. Had I even seen the truck in the other neighborhood? Now I couldn’t even be sure.

  I found my mom in the kitchen, wrist-deep in water in the sink, pulling the leaves of collards off the stems. I slid a hip on the counter, my arms crossed over my breasts, as I watched her fingers work. When she made no move to speak first, I volunteered my own news.

  “I’m looking to maybe buy this place up the street,” I told her. “Nice little townhome for me and the baby. Spacious enough for us and a good price.”

  “I’m happy for you, sweetie,” she said, though her voice clearly did not reflect her happiness. She sniffed and I frowned, now noticing the glimmer of tears trailing down her face. My mind flipped to the conversation with that loudmouth Tonya Price at church. Maybe there was some truth to the gossip.

  “Is this about the church?” I prompted. Mama sighed before letting out a brief nod. My heart fell. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked. “I mean, what is it? Money? I have—”

  “No, Kimmy. This has nothing to do with money.” She finally met my eyes. “And I didn’t want you to worry. Or feel bad.”

  “What do you mean?”

  My mama patted her hands on the drying towel and turning, leaned up against the counter next to me, her arm bumping up against mine. “Membership is down. It’s been like that for a few months now. That mess that happened with you . . . People are just . . .” She trailed off, gauging my reaction.

  It was starting to make sense. This was all about me. Me and my dumb decisions. Of course, my poly relationship had been plastered all up and down every newspaper, and then when I had been accused of Leo’s murder, the story broke on every piece of local media. I still cringed at the stories: “Daughter of Prominent Pastor Accused of Killing Polygamous Husband.” It was downright embarrassing enough for me, but even more so when they dragged my folks into my mess. And now, the domino effect. People were pulling out of my dad’s church. They wanted to go elsewhere, without the public scandal.

  Now it was my turn to sigh, letting the truth sink in and pierce my heart. If I didn’t feel horrible before, I damn sure did now.

  “I have to talk to Daddy.”

  My mom shook her head. “No, he’s resting. But he definitely didn’t want you to feel like any of this was your fault.”

  I let out a snarky chuckle, her words the exact echo of Tonya’s. That was easier said than done. “So he’s going to what? Step down? Just . . . sell the church and do what?”

  My mom’s shoulder lifted and fell. “He hasn’t finalized all the details yet, but yeah, that’s what it looks like.”

  “What are we supposed to do?”

  “We are not going to worry about it,” my mom said, her voice firm. “We are going to let go and let God. We are going to let your dad decide to do what’s best, and we are going to completely support whatever he decides. I trust your father’s judgment.”

  I nodded, the idea making the most sense but still leaving a sour taste in my mouth. “I just wish none of this shi—” I coughed, catching myself. “—stuff even mattered anymore. I thought we were past all of this.”

  My mom nodded. “It’s behind us, Kimmy.” She patted my shoulder with comfort neither of us felt. “We are not going to let what happened haunt us. It’s done. We are going to move forward. You hear me?”

  I pursed my lips, thinking about the church, the child support, Leo, and his note. No, I didn’t hear her. It was already haunting me. And it looked to be getting worse.

  Chapter 6

  The knock on my door had me looking up and grinning in relief to see my dad in the doorway. My grin fell when I saw him lean against the wall, and I quickly ran to his side and grabbed his arm.

  “Daddy, you’re not feeling better?”

  “It’s this bug,” he said, groaning his discomfort as he hobbled to my bed. “Can’t keep anything down. No appetite.”

  “You need to go to the doctor.”

  “It’s nothing,” he insisted. “I’m actually doing a lot better.”

  I took in his ashen complexion, his unshaven beard, his weakened posture, the plaid pajama pants and long-john shirt. The man was clearly lying, but I nodded anyway to appease him.

  “You know they say men get pregnancy symptoms when their women are pregnant,” I teased.

  “Who’s pregnant? Your mother?” He mustered enough strength to laugh at my joke. “You almost made me say something unpastor-like, baby girl.”

  “What are you doing out of bed anyway?” I asked, sliding a look at the clock.

  He gestured toward the car seat I had resting on the bed. “Your mom told me they called you and said they can discharge the baby today.”

  I smiled, unable to contain my excitement. “They did.” And because I was sure he was wondering, I added, “We are probably going to just take him to Jahmad’s place, Daddy. I know you’re not feeling well and—”

  “Oh, yeah, yeah I know.” He nodded his understanding. “That’s actually what I was going to suggest. Because we both know when I get better that grandboy of mine is going to be by my side at all times.”

  I laughed. “Yes, I already know.”

  My dad waited while I continued tossing some items in a suitcase. No, Jahmad hadn’t explicitly extended the invite, but he was crazy if he thought I was sleeping anywhere but his house now that my son would be there temporarily. I say temporarily because my own home was still on the table. I planned on bringing up that discussion when we talked later.

  I debated whether I wanted to bring up my mother’s news from last week. She had insisted I just leave it alone, but still . . .

  “Daddy, I’m sorry,” I blurted helplessly. “About the church. About everything. I really wish you wouldn’t let what happened affect your ministry. That was my mistake, not yours. And it’s not fair.”

  My dad’s eyes lowered, but I caught the gli
mpse of sadness he tried to mask. “It’s nothing to apologize for, baby girl. The last thing I want to do is bring reproach on the gospel. Or do anything to taint the Word. And if my personal life can affect bringing people closer to God, well then, I would rather remove myself from the equation. The path is already narrow. People don’t need distractions.”

  The truth stung. Bad. As much as it made sense, I still hated what this had come to.

  “May I ask a favor of you, baby girl?”

  “Of course, Daddy. Anything.”

  “Why don’t you volunteer down at the church?” He held up a hand to stop me before I could respond. “Just hear me out. This new young man approached me out the blue a few weeks ago about volunteering. Said God led him to me. And it really got me thinking about some things. Despite all the rumors, the gossip and foolishness, at the end of the day, we are still making a difference. We are still doing God’s work. And however the chips fall with the church, we are still a family. A united front that won’t be ripped apart with scandal. And even if it’s time to transition to other ventures, we want to show people we will do it together, and none of the stories will change that. Now I know you’re busy with your store and now Jamaal, but I really think—”

  “Daddy. You don’t have to convince me,” I said with a laugh. “I sure will. Especially if you think it’ll help.”

  “Well, even if it doesn’t, I want to make sure and leave with the same impression we started with.”

  He was right. I remembered Keon, my mother, and I had been right by my dad’s side faithfully when he first started his pastoral journey. He had said those same words then. A family. A united front under God. Somewhere along the way, I had lost sight of that. Hell, somewhere along the way I had lost myself.

  * * *

  “He came back.”

  I was expecting Shaun’s bubbly attitude as I strolled up to the NICU front desk, but her words seemed to stop me in my tracks. Her expression was one of pure concern as she glanced around before beckoning me closer.

  “He came back,” she repeated with a concerned frown. “The guy I was telling you about.”

  I nodded, my own eyes darting around the empty lobby. I half expected to see Leo there, peeking around some corner, watching me. Thank God Jahmad hadn’t arrived just yet, but he had agreed to meet me here to pick up JayJay, so I knew he couldn’t be too far. “When?” I asked, turning back to Shaun.

  “About an hour ago.”

  “Did you call the police?”

  “No, he didn’t come in this time.” Shaun nodded her head in the direction of the windows, the shades drawn open to reveal the afternoon sun shining brilliantly on the parking lot. “I saw him walking outside. I thought it was him but I wasn’t a hundred percent sure. So I took my break and went to see. He was kind of far, but when he saw me looking, he turned and got in the car with somebody and they drove off. Who is he? Do I need to tell security?”

  I quickly shook my head. “No. Jamaal is being discharged today so we won’t worry about it. Let me just get my baby out of here.”

  Shaun’s face still carried the worry I felt, her eyes sliding to the windows again. “Do you think you need to get some kind of restraining order?”

  I actually had thought about it. But how the hell would I explain that to my parents? Jahmad? As far as anyone knew, Leo was dead, killed in the hit-and-run arranged by his first wife, Tina. No one, not even Adria, knew he had told me he’d faked his death, and certainly not that he’d been sending me money. With the scandal rocking my dad’s church and the delicate relationship between Jahmad and me, the last thing I wanted to do was stir up trouble. Or suspicion.

  “It’s fine,” I lied, feigning a smile. “Let’s just keep this between us, okay? I’ll handle it.” I had to remember Shaun was new in town. She knew nothing about my sordid celebrity status. And it was better that way. “I know one thing.” I quickly changed the subject before either one of us could dwell on the issue any further. “I’m certainly going to enjoy not having to drive up here to see my baby. I can just roll over and watch him sleep right there at the house.”

  Shaun relaxed at the comment. “Enjoy it, girl. Because when he turns one, you won’t have another moment of peace until high school graduation.”

  I smiled, looking forward to that. “You still coming to the grand opening, right?”

  “Of course. Wouldn’t miss it.” She leaned up and gave me a hug across the desk. “You sure you don’t want to trade?” she teased. “I take my baby Jamaal and you get a buy-one-get-one deal with the twins.”

  “So tempting,” I said with a wink. Shit, I knew they would find my ass in a straitjacket singing nursery rhymes to myself if I had two kids right about now.

  Jamaal’s nurse had him ready as soon as I walked in. I fed him first before she helped me change him into a cute onesie outfit with the phrase “Hide your daughters. I have arrived” written across the front; a gift from his aunt Adria, of course. I snuggled his hat on his head, and he had just dozed off as I wrapped him in a blanket and lifted him in my arms.

  Jahmad had been sitting, waiting patiently, and he rose as I reentered the lobby. I took slow, soft steps so as not to wake Jamaal, but I wanted nothing more than to run into Jahmad’s arms while he held us both. In due time.

  It was as if a switch had been flipped, the way Jahmad’s face filled with such tender love as his eyes rested on the bundle in my arms. “May I?” he said, holding out his arms. I smiled and carefully transferred Jamaal to him. “Hey, little man,” he cooed. “We have been waiting for you, son.”

  I felt my phone vibrating, but I quickly ignored it. No one was about to intrude on this precious moment. “The car seat is in my car,” I said, readjusting the strap on the diaper bag. “I’ll bring the car around and follow you home.”

  “Sounds good,” Jahmad murmured, not bothering to look up. He just continued to stare lovingly into his son’s face. I grinned and took in the image for a moment longer. Between my parents and Jahmad, apparently I was going to have a little competition on my hands for my baby’s time. Which was fine by me. Jamaal was certainly loved, and we all would have no problems expressing it.

  My phone vibrated again as I started across the parking lot to my car. Somewhat annoyed at the disturbance, I pulled the device from my purse and eyed the screen, frowning at the number I didn’t recognize. I swiped to decline the call, and almost immediately, it started up again. My frown deepened, the vibration notification sending a slight tremble through my fingers and up my wrist. Maybe it was Adria, calling from Jamaica. I knew that was a stretch, even as the thought entered my mind. This time, I swiped to accept the call and brought the phone to my ear.

  He didn’t have to say a word for me to know it was him. My breath caught in my throat as I listened to the tense silence, and I willed my heartbeat to slow down. “What do you want, Leo?” I whispered, hating myself when my words seemed labored over my trembling breath.

  “Where is he?”

  I stood still, my back to the hospital, the sun silhouetting my frame. I caught my panicked expression in the window of my car.

  “Why are you doing this?” I asked. “You said you would leave me alone.”

  “I tried. But you have my son. You and he are part of me, my love. Don’t you get it?”

  “He’s not yours.” I had to believe it. For all of our sakes.

  “You still look just as beautiful as I remember, my love.”

  I stilled at the comment, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up straight. It wasn’t just his voice now. It was his presence.

  Slowly, I pulled the phone from my ear as his reflection came into focus through the car window, standing behind and just off to the side of me.

  My whole body trembled, despite the fearful heat that coursed through my body. When his hand lifted to touch my shoulder, I snatched back, dropping my purse and diaper bag in the process. I pressed my back against the car door, not wanting to meet his gaze.

&
nbsp; “You need to leave,” I said, my voice pleading. If Jahmad saw . . . if he knew Leo was here . . .

  “Where is he?” Leo’s eyes slid to the back seat, eyed the empty car seat. He then looked behind himself to the hospital.

  “Just leave, Leo. Please. I’ll bring him to you another time.”

  “Today?”

  Like hell. My mind flipped through lie after lie until it settled on the most believable. “They didn’t release him today. But when they do, I’ll call you.”

  “Put me on the list. I just want to see him.”

  “He’s not yours, Leo. Why do you care?”

  “He is mine.” Why did the solitary comment seem to be so convincing? How could he possibly know for sure?

  “We already tested him,” I lied again, strengthening my voice for more believability. It didn’t work. The doubt marred Leo’s face, laced with bits of irritation. I started to push past him, but he grabbed my arm, and I was suddenly thrown back into another time, seemingly another life, one that I had already lived and learned. No matter how strong of a charming accent, how many smooth words he tossed at me, I recognized the strength behind the grip. The strength and the damage. Same old Leo Owusu.

  “Bring me my son, Kimera. Or I will get him myself.” He shoved me back into the car, the sideview mirror stabbing like a knife into my back. I recoiled at the pain, grateful when he just walked away and left me alone.

  Quickly, I gathered my stuff from the ground where I had dropped it earlier and jumped in the car. I peered through the window, scanning the rows of cars, but I didn’t see Leo. Nor could I be sure where he had gone. I just hoped and prayed he wouldn’t see me drive to the front of the hospital nor see Jahmad emerge with a baby I had insisted should still be in NICU.