“Child, please. Okay, so I didn’t know them back in the day, but they all seem a hot mess to me. You wouldn’t believe some of the stuff I’ve read about them online. Especially Kristina.”
“Some of that is just made up, Kiki. Besides, Ms. Mahalia didn’t play. They may have gone secular, but they were raised right. They know better."
“Maybe the other two, but you can’t defend Superstar Langston. Not to me. Didn't you see her at the Grammys? She was so hyped up, I thought she was gonna fall right off the stage. Beyoncé was trying to act like she didn't notice when Kristina presented her with that award. I was like, no Bey, even you not that good an actress!“
They laughed again.
“Girl, you are so bad…”
Kristina could hear one of the women toss whatever she’d used to touch up her face back in her makeup bag.
"I can't stand people like that. She got everything. Voice, looks, money, a mother who adored her, and it's still not enough! Just greedy.”
"Well, I guess—“
For the first time since the women entered the restroom, both suddenly became silent. Then one whispered, “Do you see that? It looks like— Is that someone’s hand?”
Kristina watched as the shoes inched in her direction.
"Oh my gosh… Somebody’s in there on the floor!”
Through Kristina’s blurred vision she could make out one of the women crouching and looking under the door. The look on her face was one of horror.
"Go get help!"
Kristina could hear the panic in the woman’s voice. She wished she could tell her not to worry. She wished she could tell her not to bother for help. She wished she could explain that everything was finally as it should be.
Kristina had imagined her death a hundred times. She’d wondered, would she be alone or performing before thousands? At home or backstage at an event? Where it would happen, she never knew, but it was something she’d been waiting for a long time.
She was grateful for one thing; her sisters wouldn’t witness it. She never wanted them to have to live with the memory of frantically trying to save her in her last moments. She'd already put them through enough.
No, she'd rather be gone before they found her, beyond any help, so they wouldn't be stuck replaying the incident over and over in their minds, wondering what more they could've done.
She didn't want anyone else to save her, either. She was tired. Had been for over half her life. She was more than ready to leave this life behind.
Not that she had any delusions she'd open her eyes in heaven. Sure, she'd come to Jesus as a girl. Kristina was born and raised in church and loved Him with all her heart, no matter what others thought.
But she’d failed Him too many times to count. She was such a mess, she could hardly even bring herself to pray anymore. She used to. Every night, she prayed the same prayer for years. Eventually, she came to realize He wasn’t listening. Not to her, anyway.
At least, that’s what she’d thought. But lying there on the cold floor, hearing the shouts of strangers, she felt herself slipping away and understood that He had heard her after all.
Knowing she had only moments left before being swallowed up by eternal darkness, she said the last prayer she expected to ever pray again:
Thank you.
Chapter 3
Robin Jones stood at the window, looking out over the hospital parking lot and silently asked God to give her direction. It was late, the night before last, when she got a call from her old friend and pastor, Avery Thomas. He told her there was a family drowning in the midst of tragedy and that he could use her help. She never thought in a million years that that family would be the family of Kristina Langston.
Robin hadn't slept since she’d gotten the call. Instead, she'd stayed up with the sisters, Pam and Tamia, as they spent the hours in a continual cycle of praying, crying, and waiting.
To the glory of God, their prayers were answered. Kristina was finally moved from intensive care into her own room. Now, it was just a matter of waiting for her to wake.
But Robin knew the trouble was far from over. Pam had confided in her that it wasn't Kristina’s first brush with death. Both of her sisters had spent the last year on pins and needles, waiting for the call. That call.
Less than two years ago, Kristina was diagnosed with an underlying heart condition. She was also warned more than once by medical professionals that her continued drug use would lead to the grave a lot sooner for her than it would for a normal, healthy individual. But even that hadn't been enough to slow her. In fact, according to her sisters, it seemed to only make her more bent on destruction. As if she wanted to die.
Robin was a certified therapist and had more recently begun life coaching. She’d worked with all kinds—from addicts to sex workers, homemakers to celebrities. But the one thing they all had in common was that they wanted help. Kristina, however, did not.
According to Pam, her sister had refused all attempts to get her into rehab. At one point, she threatened to have Pam replaced as her manager and Tamia replaced as her background singer. And although their sister’s life was more important to them than their jobs, they eventually gave in to her just because they knew they were the only two in her inner circle close enough to keep an eye on her.
“She can be a handful.” Pam told Robin. “I won’t lie to you. But that’s the drugs. When she’s not using, my sister is one of the funniest, kindest, most gentle people you’ll ever meet. I’m afraid that if we don’t get through to her now, she’ll be six feet under this time next year.”
After hours of talking about what could be done, they devised a plan. If Kristina wasn't willing to go to rehab or therapy, they would just bring the therapy to her.
"Krissi?”
Tamia’s voice and sudden movement toward her sister’s bed pulled Robin's attention from her thoughts. She turned to find Kristina stirring and Tamia leaned over on her chest, hugging her.
"You said you weren’t going to do anything! I should've known better. I should have gone with you.”
"For the hundredth time, Tamia, this wasn't your fault."
Robin couldn’t help but notice the edge in Pam's voice. She knew that she loved Kristina, but right then, she looked as if she wanted to scratch her eyes out.
Kristina opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again, swallowing. "I'm okay, Tamia." Her voice was hoarse and raspy. "It's no big deal."
"No big deal?" If Pam looked angry before, she looked ready to draw blood now. "You almost died! Do you have any idea what you looked like when they rolled you out of that bathroom? Like a corpse!”
Robin put her hand on Pam’s shoulder. Pam stopped talking and turned toward the window. They had talked about this the night before. If they had any hope of getting Kristina to agree to this therapy retreat, they'd have to tread carefully.
Kristina finally noticed Robin in the room and squinted her eyes to get a better look at her. Robin approached the bed, put out her hand and introduced herself. Kristina wouldn’t take her hand, but she nodded slowly.
"Okay…I thought you looked familiar. I've seen you on TV, right?"
Before Robin could answer, the curious expression on Kristina’s face gave over to one of exasperation. "Wait…" She rolled her eyes and stared at the ceiling. "You've got to be kidding me.”
Pam turned around.
"Is that what this is? An intervention? I already told you—“
"Yeah, we know. You don't do rehab. You don't do shrinks. Fine. But you're doing this. It's already been arranged. Three days. All of us in a hotel suite. Together. No interruptions. We need to work through this, Kristina.” Pam came to her sister’s bed and put her hand on her leg. "And I'm not just talking about the drugs," she added, quietly.
Kristina shook her head and continued staring at the ceiling. She was pretty sure before it was all over, she was gonna wish she’d just gone to rehab.
It took an elaborate escape route through the back ways of
the hospital, a look-alike stand-in for Kristina, and a decoy black SUV to get them out of the hospital without alerting the paparazzi camped out in the parking lot to their departure or eventual destination.
Tamia left ahead of them to check in to the hotel so Kristina could bypass the lobby and go straight to the suite from the back entrance.
Once they were there and inside the hotel elevator, Robin took a few moments to study the superstar.
She was wearing a calf length faux fur coat over jeans and a ribbed white tank top. Her short and usually styled haircut was in disarray, pointing in every direction but down, subdued only by the stretchy headband she wore. She had no makeup on, but still somehow radiated what Robin could only describe as star quality.
And she acted like one, too. Even at the hospital, she had a way of getting whatever she wanted, when she wanted it. Both doctors and nurses deferred to her and tended to act like they were in the presence of royalty. She was used to commanding a room and Robin was slowly beginning to realize how much work she had cut out for her.
The high-pitched ringing of a cell phone broke the cold silence that had begun at the hospital when Kristina first learned of their plan and that had continued all the way to the present moment.
Once Pam realized it was her phone making the noise, she dug into her purse and pulled it out. The anxiety that had held her hostage over the last several hours faded the moment she saw the name on caller ID.
It was her husband, Reiland.
"Hey baby, we’re just arriving at the hotel."
"How's Kristina doing?"
Pam glanced over at her sister, leaned up against the side of the elevator wall, staring over her sunglasses at the ascending floor numbers and looking more like a thug than any best-selling popstar should.
"You know, the usual."
He chuckled. "Well, I'll tell you one thing. Any other day I might be jealous you're getting a few days off and spending them in a luxury suite. But under the circumstances, I don't envy you at all."
She didn't want to, but even she had to laugh at that. He continued. "But listen, your mom's lawyer wants to talk to one of you girls. Apparently, there's an issue with the will."
That was news to Pam. She didn't even know her mother had a will. She was glad, though. They all sent her money every month and Pam was happy to see Mahalia had taken her advice about putting her affairs in order. But she couldn’t imagine what the issue could be. If she knew her mother at all, she was sure whatever she had was left to New Life Tabernacle.
"What's the problem?"
"He didn't say. I told him the three of you would be unreachable for the next few days, but whatever it is, it's something that’s got him all in a tizzy."
Pam smiled. Her man worked out like a bodybuilder and had the body to prove it. Why he talked like a little old lady, she did not know.
"Is it something you can handle?"
"I don't know. But don't worry about it. You ladies do whatever you gotta do and I’ll hold it down over here until you can take care of it."
Of course, he would. He always did. With all the hell that had gone on in her life, the best thing that ever happened to her was Reiland. To all of them, really. He was the rock in their family. Having been abandoned by their father when they were young, Reiland became not only a brother-in-law to her sisters, but at times, a father, as well. She thanked God for him daily.
"I appreciate it, baby. I love you. I'll talk to you soon."
"I love you too. I'll be praying for you.”
Once they were in the hotel room, Kristina gave the suite a quick once over and dropped down on the sofa, wrapping her fur coat around her and putting her feet up on the table.
"How many days is this again? ‘Cause you know I got things to do to get ready for this tour."
Pam walked past her and opened the door to one of the bedrooms, motioning toward Robin to let her know that it was hers. "Yes, diva. Being that I’m the one who books these things, I know. The more cooperative you are, the quicker this will be."
One of the bedroom doors opened and Tamia came out, holding something in her hand. She took a glance at Robin and turned whatever it was up into her palm. Robin continued to her bedroom, saying nothing, but made a mental note of it.
"Where's my bags?" Tamia asked Pam.
Pam made her way to the sliding doors and pushed back the drapes to let more light into the room. "The bellboy should be up any minute now. Was there something you needed?"
Tamia shoved whatever she was holding into her jeans pocket and shrugged. "Nothing important. I can wait."
Once the bags had arrived and everyone had settled into their rooms, they came together in the main living area.
"So," Robin said. "What is it that you three want to accomplish over the next few days?"
Nobody answered. Instead, Tamia and Kristina looked at Pam.
"This was your idea," Kristina said.
"I think there are some things we might need to…work through. Things having to do with our past." She hesitated before continuing. "With our mother."
Kristina covered her face with her hands and groaned. "Haven't we talked about her enough the past few days? I mean, if that’s what this is going to be about, I can just leave now, because I'm not interested." She stood and started toward her bedroom.
"Kristina.”
Kristina turned around to face her sister. "What?"
Pam scooted forward to the edge of her seat. "This isn’t gonna be like the funeral. This is gonna be about who mama really was. About the things she did.”
"I don't live in the past."
Pam tilted her head forward as if to say, Are you kidding me? But then she caught the expression on Robin’s face and took another approach.
"Okay, fine. But this isn't just about you. What about me? What about Tamia? We need to get over this stuff. And you’re our sister. You were there. You're the only person in the whole world that can even understand what it was like. Can't you just do this for us?"
Kristina tapped her toe, her hands shoved into the pockets of the fur coat hanging off one shoulder. She looked over at Tamia. "You want me to stay?"
Tamia nodded. "I don't think we could do this without you."
Kristina sighed as loudly as she could and trudged back to the couch before dropping down in the same spot she had previously occupied. "I'll do it. But this is just…" Her voice trailed off and she groaned again.
"What?" Robin asked.
Kristina halfheartedly punched at the pillow beside her. "I think all this talking about your feelings and stuff is a waste of time. What's done is done. You can’t go back and change it."
"No," Robin said. "But we can change how it affects us." Robin uncrossed her legs and leaned forward, her elbows on her lap. "For instance, issues with our parents sometimes spill over into our parenting. How have your experiences with your mother affected your relationships with your own children?"
Robin immediately sensed the change that occurred in the room as a result of her question. Though all three women remained quiet, their silence spoke volumes.
"Anybody?"
The sisters exchanged glances and avoided Robin's gaze. Finally, Pam answered.
"None of us have children."
Although the answer seemed straightforward, there was more to the story. That much, Robin could tell. But because she didn't know exactly what, she proceeded with caution. "Any particular reason why?"
Silence.
Without warning, Kristina jumped up and went to her bedroom. After a few moments, she emerged, tapping the bottom of a cigarette pack, lighter in hand. She headed straight for the balcony doors.
"Kristina. We’re in the middle of something." Pam said.
Kristina didn't turn around. She opened the glass sliding door and before stepping out onto the balcony, said "Y'all go ahead.”
With that, she closed the sliding door and no sooner than it had begun, session one was over.
Chapter 4
Robin put on a sweater and joined Kristina on the balcony. It had been a rather mild winter, but there was still a bite to the air. Robin wrapped her sweater tight around her body and leaned against the railing.
"I thought cigarettes were a no-no for singers."
Kristina cast her a sidelong glance and blew out a cloud of smoke. "And I thought you were a shrink, not a vocal coach."
Robin noticed a slight tremor in the hand holding the cigarette and wondered how much it had to do with the cold and how much it could be attributed to the beginning of withdrawal.
Seeing Kristina like this made her heart ache.
They were close to the same age, Robin being just a bit older when Kristina hit it big around the age of twenty. She was everywhere. Commercials, award shows, talk shows. You couldn't walk into a gas station or grocery store without hearing Kristina Langston’s voice coming from the speakers.
But even then, being that young, it was clear to Robin that Kristina's heart was a broken one. She watched the news footage of the singer being spirited into the back doors of concert halls or flanked by bodyguards shielding her from rabid fans. Everyone screamed her name, reached for her, wanted a piece of her, but few seemed to really look at her.
If they had, they would’ve seen what Robin did. The sadness, the weariness in her eyes. Something like disappointment.
Robin saw more of it in the years since, as a therapist working with other celebrities. They were talented, sometimes fragile people, looking for love and acceptance and the opportunity to show their worth. What many of them didn't understand was that being loved and being famous were two different things. By the time the most desperate of them found out, it was too late.
"I remember… I had to be, what?" Robin said, looking toward the sky. "Twenty-six? That’s how old I was when the Sweet Kisses music video first hit. I went out the next day and got the same haircut."
Kristina stopped mid-puff and turned to look at Robin, then she laughed so hard, she made herself cough.
He Restores My Soul (The Langston Family Saga Book 1) Page 2