Truth Be Told

by Victoria Christopher Murray

  Her silk robe fluttered to the carpet as she slipped from it and into bed. Shivering in her nakedness, she turned off the light and sank into the feathered pillows. A moment later, she clicked on the light and opened the nightstand drawer. The single content stared at her: Holy Bible. She picked up the book with care, as if handling it roughly would make God angry. It felt familiar as her fingertips roamed along the uneven terrain of the leather. Her hands examined the cover for long minutes as if her touch would transmit information from inside. Finally, she opened the book.

  She’d written her name in cursive on the “presented to” line the day of her Confirmation when Neil had given her the Bible. On the line with the word “from,” she’d written, “My father.” At thirteen, it was her proudest possession. For hours after she studied her scriptures, she would stare at the gold edges of the pages.

  On the morning of her Confirmation, she’d taken the new Bible to church for the first time. While her friends gathered around admiring the gilded pages and gold lettering, Jolanda Keith had declared, “Mabel, why did you write that this Bible was from your father?” Jolanda had tossed her thick pigtails over her shoulder and stared at Mabel provocatively. “He’s not your father.”

  Though she had never been friends with Jolanda, who walked around as if she’d been given the trust deed to the world, Mabel had still been shocked. She’d done everything within her thirteen-year-old power to hide that Neil wasn’t her father.

  “He is too.” But though she spat the words with as much force as she could muster, she stepped back.

  Jolanda had sucked her teeth. “You don’t even have the same last name.”

  How do you know his last name? she wanted to scream. But Mabel just turned away, withering under the stares of the other seven girls who waited for her to answer Jolanda’s charges.

  It was then that she knew she hated them all: Neil, her mother, and Grace.

  Mabel knew others who lived without their mother or father—half the kids she knew lived with their grandmothers. But it was different for her. Neil lived in her house. He just didn’t want to be her father.

  The first time she called him “Daddy,” he’d told her to just call him Neil.

  “I don’t want to take anything away from your real father,” he had explained.

  Who is my real father? she had wanted to ask as Neil hugged her. Although his arms held her, she didn’t feel loved. She just wanted to be like Grace.

  Starlight stiffened as Lexington stirred. When he settled in his sleep, she breathed again. She didn’t want him catching her with a Bible.

  Her thoughts returned to the past. That was when it began—the drive to be better than Grace. She wasn’t able to do it until she became Starlight. Until she released all the things she’d learned from this Bible.

  Starlight lifted the book. It felt heavier than she remembered, as if God had inserted new words. She flipped through the pages, but as she turned from one chapter to the next, there were no familiar scriptures. No memories of a spectacular past, no promise of a future like the one she’d created.

  God had nothing to do with her money in the bank, or with the penthouse she owned, or with the million books she’d sold. She was loved by women in thirteen countries. She had no proof she was loved by God.

  She slammed the book shut, opened the drawer, and returned the Bible to its place. For an extra moment, she stared at the golden letters on the cover, then watched the book disappear as she closed the drawer. Finally, she turned off the light.

  Chapter 16

  She was awakened by lips that were as soft as the feathers inside the pillow she rested on. Starlight stretched like a Persian cat, releasing the slumber that settled inside her bones. She nestled deeper into the sheets, enjoying the sensation of Lexington teasing her bottom lip with kisses. When he tried to ease his tongue into her mouth, she nudged him away. “Let me brush my teeth,” she said as she freed her legs from the comforter.

  He pulled her back, pressing his naked torso into her. “No,” he said, kissing her again. “I love even your stank breath.”

  She shook her head. Only Lexington could turn this moment into a punch line from The Jamie Foxx Show. That was the challenge with dating someone a decade younger, although what she had with Lexington couldn’t be called dating. It was one-sided; Lexington was the giver, she was the receiver. It had been that way from the beginning.

  Two weeks after they’d began their partnership, Starlight bedded Lexington, aware of the two most potent aphrodisiacs—sex and money. At that time, she didn’t have money, so she used sex to capture and control. She had laid out the self-professed almost-virgin, and for seven years had sexed him until he was screaming her name in public and in private.

  Lexington or Lassie—she didn’t know who was more loyal. She knew Lexington would do anything for her.

  Starlight closed her eyes as he rubbed his lips across her face, then blazed a trail down her neck. She moaned with the sounds of ecstasy, as she always did. She wanted him to believe that he was about to take her to heaven, although in seven years, there weren’t seven times when he had. Their sexual encounters kept her right on earth—her mind filled with the day’s schedule or upcoming presentation.

  “How does this feel?” He sounded like a poor imitation of one of the men in the pornographic movies they often rented.

  “Wha…?” She almost slipped. “Oh, wonderful. Give me more, Lexi,” she breathed, draping her arms around his neck.

  Suddenly he pulled back. “I had a dream last night.” He leaned on one elbow and smiled at her.

  She pulled the cover to her chest, startled by his abrupt release.

  “I’ve been thinking about the Women of the Earth seminar,” he said. “Ways to make a lot more money. Haven’t figured out the whole thing, but with two hundred and fifty women, I want to go beyond the books and tapes. I want to figure out a way to merchandise God.”

  “What are you thinking?”

  He shrugged. “Numbers. Want to walk away with five hundred thou.”

  Her eyes widened. Five hundred thousand dollars for a day’s work. “Make it three hundred,” she said. He frowned. “Let’s get three hundred women there.”

  His smile widened, as she knew it would. “You agree with what I’m thinking?”

  “Well,” she began as she slowly lowered the comforter, revealing her bare chest. “I don’t know the details, but with what you’ve said so far, you deserve a bonus.” She reached for him. “Come here, baby. Mama has something wonderful for you.”

  Chapter 17

  At the end of the boardwalk, Grace took off her pumps. She hadn’t worn stockings to church, knowing it would be warm in the sanctuary. She almost sighed when her feet met the cool sand. She trudged to the ocean’s edge.

  Where the water met the earth, she turned and walked along the coast, finding the peace that always awaited her here. Though the noon sun sat high, there was only a handful of beach worshippers. It was as though Los Angelinos didn’t believe—it couldn’t be ninety degrees. This April had been warmer than most Augusts. It was a spring that thought it was summer. Even the seasons were confused.

  Her pleated dress whispered around her ankles in the sea’s breeze. She crossed her arms and felt the tape inside her pocket.

  She often purchased a tape of Pastor Ford’s sermon so that she could study more. Today she’d purchased the tape to hear the pastor’s words again, although her mind’s “replay” button already had the sermon repeating itself.

  “There is said faith and real faith,” Pastor Ford had said. “You need to understand what it means to have a complete relationship with God. To know how to call on Him to guide you through any adversity so that you can be a living testimony.

  “Are you who the Lord describes in Jeremiah 17:8 when He says, He will be like a tree planted by the water that sends out its roots by the stream. It does not fear when heat comes, its leaves are always green. I ask you, do you fear when heat comes,
or can you stand the heat?”

  Though Grace still moved along the water’s edge, she closed her eyes, trying to block out all but the sound of the breaking waves.

  Can you stand the heat? Pastor Ford asked inside her head.

  Weeks ago, she would have body-slammed that question. Her response would have resounded through the city. Look at all the heat I’ve taken. I have skid marks over my body, proving how much I can stand.

  Can you stand the heat? Pastor Ford asked in her head again.

  But now her life’s temperature was rising, and Grace wasn’t responding with the faith she thought she had.

  Grace wanted to do the right thing, and last night, she was ready. But the sound of her husband’s voice mixing with Pilar’s in conversation about their son had driven her to another sleepless night in their office.

  This morning, there was no time for discussion as they prepared for church. When they’d returned home, Grace announced that she had to go out for awhile. Conner hadn’t tried to stop her. He simply held up his hands, and turned to his daughters as if Grace would never be missed. He was annoyed, but she needed time alone.

  Can you stand the heat?

  She lifted her hand to wipe the ocean’s moisture from her face, but it was tears that left tracks on her face. She wiped them away.

  “Okay, Lord. I’m going to do this. Father, lead us all—Conner, Pilar, and me.”

  “Grace?”

  She turned toward the voice. “Starlight.”

  Her sister was standing so close that Grace wondered if she’d heard her whispered prayer.

  Starlight’s purple caftan flapped in the beach breeze.

  Grace’s glance moved to the young man beside her. He stood unsmiling, as stiff as a soldier. Grace was sure the man was Lexington, Starlight’s assistant, according to Lily. But as close as they stood, Grace wondered if Lily knew they were more than that.

  “I haven’t seen you this much in years.” Starlight laughed, interrupting Grace’s inspection of Lexington.

  Grace turned back to Starlight. “We can’t get away from each other.”

  “I guess you didn’t make it to church today.”

  “I …” Grace stopped, wondering why she was about to explain. “Good-bye, Starlight.” Grace nodded her farewell to the man.

  “Wait,” Starlight said before Grace could step away. “What are you doing in my neighborhood?” She motioned toward the Towers behind them.

  Grace hadn’t realized she had walked so far south. She stared at her sister for a moment, then turned away. “Have a nice day,” she said over her shoulder.

  “Why can’t you be happy for me, Grace?”

  Grace refused to turn around.

  “You can’t be happy because you always wanted to be the star of the family.”

  With Conner, Pilar, and Solomon demanding the energy from every one of her brain cells, there was no room for this drama.

  “I’m trying to be your sister.” Starlight’s words followed Grace up the coast. “You can’t deny my existence because my future holds nothing but good things. Can you say the same for yours?”

  Grace paused, but only for a second. She moved faster, hoping Starlight’s words would soon drown in the sea. Seconds later, all that filled Grace’s ears was the ocean’s music.

  At the Santa Monica pier, Grace looked over her shoulder. It took a moment for her to spot the colorful caftan whipping in the wind. Though they were faint forms on the sand, Starlight and her friend stood in the same place, now surrounded by a small group. Her sister was nestling in the center of fame.

  Grace shivered.

  My future holds nothing but good things, she remembered Starlight saying.

  Grace wondered what made her quiver. Probably nothing, she thought. Anyway, she didn’t have time to worry about her sister. She had to get home.

  It was déjà vu. When Grace stepped inside, Conner stood in the foyer waiting, as he had the day before.

  She said, “I hope you weren’t worried.”

  “I knew you were all right.” He took a step forward. “Grace, when are we going to get past this?”

  “I’m ready.”

  He blew air through his lips, as if he had been holding his breath.

  “Where’re the girls?”

  “I dropped Amber off at Nicole’s house and Jayde went to Philip’s. His mother invited her for an early dinner.”

  Grace chuckled as she remembered Philip’s leather-clad cousin. She’d tell Conner later. He took her hand and led her into the living room, but once they sat, silence surrounded them.

  Conner shifted on the couch and faced her. “You don’t know how sorry I am.”

  Grace shook her head. “I want to get past the apologies.” A silent moment passed. Then Grace said, “I do have a question.” She bit the corner of her lip. “I heard you … and Pilar last night. You talk … as if … it’s settled. As if … Solomon is … definitely … your son.” She felt like she was speaking in Morse code. She took a deep breath. “How do you know for sure?”

  Conner looked into her eyes for a moment before he stood. Her gaze followed as he walked to the table in the foyer, and then as he moved more slowly, returning with his wallet. He pulled the photo from the billfold, from the same space where he kept pictures of Jayde and Amber, and handed it to her.

  She stared at the photo for a moment, then looked up at Conner. Confusion was etched on her face.

  Conner frowned, matching her expression. “Pilar gave me the picture.”

  Grace kept the “so?” that she wanted to say inside.

  “It’s obvious that Solomon is my son.”

  Her glance fell to the image again. She wasn’t sure what was obvious to him. There was a resemblance—the eyebrows, the cheekbones, even the slight cleft in his chin. Still, there was nothing that said that Conner was his father.

  She inhaled. “Conner, you should have a paternity test. I’m surprised Pilar … or you … didn’t suggest it.” He looked at her as if she were no longer speaking English. “Just so you … we can be sure.”

  He shook his head as if he couldn’t believe her request. “I know this is hard to accept, Grace, but it’s not necessary. Look at the picture.”

  She forced herself to look again. “He looks a little like you,” she said, knowing that was what he wanted to hear. Then she added, “But we have to be sure.”

  “I am sure, Grace.”

  She reared back at his tone.

  “Why do you want to put us through all of that? I hate that this happened too. But Solomon is my son. I’ve seen him.” He held up his hands, stopping her question before she could ask, and told Grace of the meeting in the park. He continued, “His mother is dying, and instead of slowing down the process, we need to be taking steps to resolve this.”

  Grace looked away. Conner knew the importance of this test. There was only one reason to resist. “Is it that you want a son so much that the truth doesn’t matter?” Water covered her eyes.

  “Oh, no, Grace.”

  “I always wanted to give you a son.”

  Conner dropped to the couch and took her into his arms. “I’m so happy with you and Jayde and Amber. I could have lived this way for the rest of my life.”

  “But now you don’t have to.”

  The ringing phone startled them.

  “Don’t answer it,” Conner said, taking Grace’s hand.

  “It may be one of the children.”

  He sighed before he rushed into the foyer to pick up the phone.

  “Hello.” He paused. “I told you I’d speak to you tomorrow.”

  The stiffness of his tone made Grace close her eyes.

  “Is something wrong?” Conner paused. “Then we can talk later.”

  Grace stood and walked toward Conner, pausing under the living room’s arch.

  “I can’t talk, Pilar.” He stared at his wife, remembering how she looked the day they renewed their vows. He hated her expression now. His eyes asked
her to forgive him. Her eyes told him she wasn’t sure if she could.

  “Pilar, hold on; I have another call coming in.” Conner pressed the flash button. “Jayde … okay. Give me a few minutes.” He pressed the flash button again. “Pilar, I have to go.”

  Grace brushed past him. “I’ll pick up our daughter,” she said loud enough for Pilar to hear.

  “Wait … I …,” he stuttered.

  She was out the door before Conner could stop her.

  Chapter 18

  Grace turned on the water, then glanced in the mirror above the sink. Weary eyes stared back. She hoped the makeup artist would be able to conceal the dark marks under her eyes.

  “Grace, are you in here?” Zoë pushed through the bathroom door. “I have some last-minute statistics for the show.”

  Grace wished she could get out of this interview. How was she supposed to sit in front of a television audience and talk when she couldn’t have a discussion with her husband?

  “I also have a list of probable questions,” Zoë said, tugging Grace from her thoughts. “You’ll be questioned about your Christian platform.” She moaned those words as if she were tired. “And why Jayde attends a private school.” She stopped. “Why are we standing in the bathroom?”

  The two walked down the narrow hall, past a wall covered with photos of the show’s host, Beth Carter, with various guests. Graced paused, taking in a picture of Beth with Sara Spears. Seeing Sara usually put some fight into Grace, but not today. Nothing measured up to what she faced at home.

  Last night was supposed to be filled with forgiving words. But Pilar had made sure that didn’t happen. Even after she returned home with Jayde, she and Conner couldn’t talk with the children present. And by the time the girls had gone to bed, she’d lost all desire to talk.

  “I’m sorry we were interrupted,” Conner had apologized.

  “It’s okay,” Grace lied.

  “I’d like to finish now.”