Truth Be Told

by Victoria Christopher Murray

  He looked away when he said, “It’s like I love Solomon already.”

  She placed her hand across her chest. “I understand. You’ve always wanted a son.”

  “I love him because I’m sure he’s mine,” he said quickly, turning back to her. He took her hand away from her heart and weaved his fingers with hers. “It’s the same love that I have for Jayde and Amber.”

  She looked toward the window, staring at the blue canvas above the green carpet of Central Park. She couldn’t look at him because if she did, she might say what she knew she shouldn’t—that even if Solomon was his son, he was supposed to love their daughters more.

  He scooted his chair closer and took both of her hands. “How did you feel?” he said, asking the same question she’d posed to him just minutes before.

  In her mind, she could still hear Solomon begging them to stay. “I didn’t get to talk to Solomon very much.”

  “But do you think … when we find out that Solomon is my son …”

  He didn’t have to complete the question. She knew what he needed to hear. Grace said, “Everything is going to be fine.” It was all she could manage.

  “Next time, I want you to spend some time with him.”

  She nodded as if she agreed.

  “I want you to talk to him,” Conner said. “Then I know you’ll feel what I’m feeling.”

  Conner stood and pulled Grace into his arms. She could feel his heart pounding countless thank-yous. With everything in her, Grace wanted to tell Conner that they would forge forward together, slay the enemy, and be victorious. But she was the only one in this war who could uncover the truth. Her husband was falling in love with a boy who could turn out not to be his son. The image of Conner and Solomon together flashed through her mind.

  The results take six to eight weeks, she heard the voice of the woman from the hospital say.

  I’ve always known that Conner was Solomon’s father, Pilar countered in her head.

  She didn’t know which voice spoke the truth, but if she had to place a bet, it wouldn’t be on Pilar.

  Chapter 26

  Starlight leaned against the suede wall in the Celestial Room of the Reign Hotel. She closed her eyes. Their plan had been simple, but she was earning every dollar. It was the three hundred women. Ten groups were too many.

  “Starlight, I have the last cluster.”

  Her eyes snapped opened. She’d been in this room for hours. A room without windows and only the soft light from the bronze-colored bulbs they’d installed. “I’m exhausted, Lexington.”

  His fingers grazed her cheek. “The closing is next. Two more hours, and you can sleep for a week.” He kissed her nose. “And I’ll be beside you. We’ll be rolling in the money.”

  The image did little to restore her. She lumbered toward the raised platform in the room’s center and positioned herself in the lotus position. Lexington opened the door.

  Chimes tolled through the air as thirty women, dressed in variations of T-shirts and shorts, and leotards and tights, came in. They were escorted by six Light Girls, whose white gauze tunics fluttered to the chime’s melody.

  The women were directed to their places on body-size towels that were already set out.

  “Join me as I bring heaven to earth,” Starlight sang. Her eyes were almost closed, flitting open only enough to see. Through the dim light, Starlight watched the Light Girls give silent instructions. Her words would be the only ones heard.

  This was the tenth and final session. The three hundred women were divided into ten groups and had been through four workshops. But this was the most important: the Rebirthing Zone.

  She searched the room and then took a deep breath. This session would be for Pastor Carey’s wife—an audition of sorts—so that she could officially break into the churches. Starlight straightened her back. Show time.

  “In order to move forward, you must cleanse yourself of the past. It is time to rebirth your soul.”

  The chimes rang louder, and Lexington lowered the lights until the room was almost in darkness.

  “Allow the earth’s atmosphere to mix with your being. Allow the planet’s aura to become part of you. Take a deep breath.” She paused. “Deeper.” Her eyelids fluttered as she peeked at the women. They lay on their backs, following her words. “Connect with the earth. Slowly roll onto your stomach, keeping your eyes closed.”

  Starlight waited until everyone was settled.

  “The creator made us in perfect form for the earth’s light to enter us. In order for your light to shine, the earth’s ashes and dust must be removed from your karma. You must regress to your dawn to progress to your future.”

  The chimes became softer.

  “Take yourself to the beginning, where you were at perfect peace in your mother’s womb.” With a slight nod, Starlight signaled, and one of the Light Girls moaned, just loud enough for the women to hear. “Find your space.”

  The women began to stretch, then coil into the fetal position. The Light Girls assisted until everyone was the way Starlight wanted.

  “Now give birth to yourself. Experience life,” Starlight sang, raising her voice a few decibels.

  Two other Light Girls made their sounds—one giggled, the other moaned. Seconds later, a few women moaned as they stretched.

  Starlight stood. “This is life,” she said loudly. Suddenly her voice dropped, returning to her low singsong level. “But to truly experience it, you must first know death because life has not always been kind.” Starlight maneuvered through the room. “There’s been pain holding you back, killing your future.” Starlight’s voice trembled as if she felt each woman’s sufferings. “Pain is the horror of life, and we must rid ourselves of it,” she cried.

  “Remember the first time you felt the horror. It came from your mother, father, sister, brother.” She made a motion with her hand, and one of the Light Girls wailed.

  “Release the pain and those feelings of not being loved, of not feeling good enough.”

  A second Light Girl began to weep.

  “Remember when they called you stupid, said you were ugly, told you that you wouldn’t amount to anything.” Starlight closed her eyes, and her own memories poured forth, almost bringing tears with it. She was not making up this part. She’d lived it. She took a deep breath. Her pain would have to wait.

  She repeated the words of tragedy, “You were never loved,” and “You never fit in,” and “You were never good enough,” until the room filled with cries. The wailing came quicker with this group.

  “There’s still blockage. Misery is stopping you.” She waltzed through the room. “People you trusted, you loved, you gave your heart to took everything away.” She motioned with her arm, and three of the Light Girls cried softly.

  “Your father should have never touched you that way. Your mother should have never beaten you. Your uncles … oh, the things they did to you.”

  The cries became so loud that Starlight motioned for the Light Girls to lower their voices. It was only then that she realized the cries were coming from the women.

  Her words came faster. “What other pain is buried in the center of your soul?”

  She made another motion, and a Light Girl cried out, “Please, don’t hit me again.”

  A sudden shriek startled her, and she turned toward the sound. Pastor Carey’s wife was shriveled in the corner. It made Starlight pause. Maybe there was a secret there that she could use someday.

  Starlight returned to the stage. There was no need for more.

  She spoke to the group. “You have moved through your past.” Her words were slow and soft. “Give thanks to the ancestors. Now claim your future. You are feeling at peace.”

  The sobs became fainter.

  “The future lies within you. It’s filled with love, joy, and happiness.” Her voice was soothing. “Accept your destiny.”

  The chimes charged the air again. Starlight remained still until the sobs ceased.

  “With your ey
es still closed, it is time to make decisions. You’ve made an investment in yourselves, cleansing your past, polishing the path to your future. How important is it to keep what you’ve created today? Decide what you’re willing to do to have the kind of future the creator perceived for you. To be the best, you have to be willing to pay. No price is too great for divinity.

  “As you sit up, think about how you can maintain what you have gained.” Starlight motioned again, and the Light Girls became nurturing assistants, aiding the women in wiping away their tears. The last woman to her place was Mrs. Carey.

  Starlight motioned to Lexington. Using the dimmer, he lightened the room.

  “You have accomplished what few people ever do. You have entered the light. Do all that you can to stay in this place.”

  Starlight raised her arms and stood using only the strength in her legs. It was a yoga move she’d practiced for weeks, and she could see how impressed the women were. Certainly only someone enlightened could lift themselves from the floor that way.

  None of the women were steady as they rose to their feet, still feeling the effects of the light hypnosis that she’d used. She had to release them to the sales room while they were still shaky.

  Starlight pressed her hands together and bowed. “May the light forever be with you and yours.”

  The Light Girls escorted the women to the room across the hall. At the beginning of the day, she’d told the women of the available products.

  “I’ve put much thought into what is needed to help you maintain what you’re going to gain,” she had said. “I spent hours working with specialists who understand our mission.”

  Her speech worked. According to early reports, they had run out of some of the specialty products. The first to go was the Bless-ed Water.

  When the last woman left, Lexington closed the door and then glided to Starlight. “Every time I watch you, I am in awe.” He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket. “You’re tired, but you’ll feel better after I wipe your face with this Anointed Cloth.”

  Even through her weariness, she laughed.

  “And laugh you should, my dear.” Lexington stroked her. “Half of that group was pastors’ wives.”

  “Are you serious? Who?”

  He chuckled. “I’ll fill you in later, but some of the most important first ladies in the city just cried their hearts out.”

  She smiled. “Let’s wrap this up. I can’t wait to get home.”

  “My feet still hurt,” Starlight groaned. She leaned back on the couch.

  Lexington glanced up, and the pencil behind his ear dropped. He walked to the couch and rested her feet on his lap.

  “You’re leaving your precious papers?”

  He looked at the table covered with cash and other receipts. It took a moment for him to say, “Taking a little break.”

  She chuckled. “You won’t get to me tonight, Lexington. My feet may hurt, but I feel like I’m walking on clouds. Although three hundred women were too many.”

  “You won’t be saying that after we count the money.”

  She pulled away from him. “Go back to the money.”

  He searched her face. When she smiled, he jumped up. “Won’t be too much longer.” In two steps, he was back at the table. Not even the ringing telephone broke his concentration.

  “This is Starlight.”

  “Starlight, this is Lynnette Bonet. I hope I haven’t caught you at a bad time.”

  Starlight paused, waiting for the familiar name to register. Then her eyes widened. “Oh, no, Senator Bonet.” She waved her hand to get Lexington’s attention, but he had already put down his pencil. “How can I help you?”

  “It’s late, so I’ll get to the point. My daughter is a fan. She has all of your books and has attended several of your seminars.”

  With one step, Lexington leaped to the couch. He put his ear next to Starlight’s with the phone in between them.

  “Summer came home raving about your conference today,” the senator continued.

  “She was there?” Starlight pointed to the registration log, and Lexington scurried to the desk.

  “Yes, and I have to admit Summer seems different. She’s a senior at UCLA, but we’ve had challenges.” The senator sighed. “She’s been in college for six years and still hasn’t decided what she wants to do. But today she came home with new energy; she has goals.”

  Starlight took a deep breath. “I’m glad.”

  “It’s too early to know what Summer will really do, but right now, I’m pleased.”

  “That’s my objective, Senator. To help women reenergize.”

  “I’m hoping you’ll be able to do a bit more, Starlight.” Senator Bonet paused. “Do you hold private sessions? Because I’d like you to work with Summer.”

  Surprise kept Starlight silent.

  “I will make it financially worthwhile,” the senator added, mistaking Starlight’s silence for hesitation. “Perhaps we could meet to discuss this.”

  Starlight wanted to leap into the air. “That would be wonder …” She paused to steady her voice. “We can meet to see what we can work out, Senator.”

  Starlight paced as she checked her calendar and agreed to meet the senator in a few days.

  “Thank you, Starlight. I’ve been watching your career, and you have a great future.” She paused. “Have you ever been to Washington?”

  “Yes, for book signings and other events.”

  “I’m talking about the Washington I know.” She continued before Starlight could respond, “I’m looking forward to meeting you.”

  Starlight hung up, trembling with excitement. “Do you know how huge this is?”

  Lexington shrugged. “We’re huge already.”

  Starlight opened her mouth, then shut it and faced the window. Images flashed through her mind’s eye of lunches with senators, speeches at congressional caucuses, weekend retreats with powerful politicians’ wives. One day, she could even speak at the White House.

  She shivered as the night sky slowly changed its color, becoming one with the water. With the connections that Senator Bonet had she could be as large as the Pacific Ocean and as brilliant as the North Star.

  She spun around and almost bumped into Lexington.

  “Take a look at the last page.” His lips spread into a grin.

  Starlight flipped through the lilac registration log. “Summer Bonet was the last woman to register?” she whispered.

  “Number three hundred.”

  Starlight fell back onto the couch, laughing. “From now on, every seminar must have three hundred women. That’s my new lucky number.” She tossed the thirty papers into the air.

  Chapter 27

  Grace’s Manolo Blahnik sling-back pump trembled on the tip of her stocking foot. Her eyes darted around the living room. The furniture seemed much closer today than two days before.

  She slipped her foot into her shoe, then swiveled in the half-moon shaped chair that reminded her of one that sat in her grandmother’s living room thirty years ago. It was a curious piece, though it fit with the rest of the room’s design. Grace wondered what was on Pilar’s mind when she furnished this space. From the couch, to the gold and green brocade chairs, to the fading walnut-brown walls, the room was dark, the furniture heavy. It felt as if the house carried a burden.

  She turned again, wishing that Conner would finish. She could hear him in the dining room on his cell phone. It could be worse, she thought. Pilar could be sitting here with me.

  More than fifteen minutes before, Pilar had met them at the door with a sweater in one hand and keys in the other. “I’m sorry, but I got a call. My friend’s car broke down.”

  “Oh,” Conner had said. “We’ll come back.”

  Grace had followed as Conner stepped back from the entryway.

  “No,” Pilar exclaimed. Grace noticed the way Pilar lowered her eyes when she motioned for them to come inside. “I’ll be right back. It’ll take fifteen minutes … or so.”

&
nbsp; “But …” Conner had started to protest, then asked, “Where’s Solomon?”

  “In his room doing his homework,” Pilar yelled over her shoulder. Grace had never seen her move so fast. “He won’t be a bother.”

  It’s a setup, Grace wanted to scream, as Pilar backed her car away. But she pressed her lips together and waited for Conner’s cue. When Conner closed the door, then motioned with his chin toward the living room, she’d followed.

  Now, almost twenty minutes had passed and Pilar had been right: Solomon had not been a bother. He hadn’t appeared at all. Maybe this hadn’t been an arrant attempt to bind him with Conner. Still, she couldn’t wait for Pilar to return, so they could have their visit and then she could leave this place.

  Her eyes moved to the magazines on the end table.

  “Oh, no,” she whispered as she picked up a copy of Jet. She prayed that Solomon had more than this connecting him to his lineage.

  “Do you want to go outside with me?”

  The magazine slipped through Grace’s fingers. Her eyes rose to the voice.

  Solomon smiled at her.

  Yesterday she’d watched him from afar. But now that he stood so close, she couldn’t stop studying him. His eyes, nose, mouth—all were familiar to her.

  He repeated his question.

  “Uh, I don’t know.”

  He placed his hand in hers. “Por favor. It’s okay.” The cleft in his chin motioned toward the back of the house.

  Grace stared as he stood wearing the confidence of one much older. She glanced at the soft hand that held hers. She allowed him to lead her to the back, where they stepped through a glass doorway.

  At first, Grace felt as if she was in a concrete prison. The space, no larger than the bathroom inside, was enclosed by a sevenfoot high orange-red brick wall. It would have been depressing except for the dazzling yellows, greens, reds, and blues that brightened the brick yard.

  “This is my garden.” Pride swelled the twelve-year-old’s chest.

  Grace bent over, examining the orchestra of impatiens, zinnias, and marigolds.