“Ma’am, I’m so sorry,” the first policeman replied.
“What happened?” I heard my mom ask. I don’t know exactly what he told her. Honestly, how on earth could it even matter? My husband was dead. Whatever they said elicited agonizing screams from Tahiry. Then my whole world went black.
14
Felise
MY MANIC HUSBAND WAS WORKING every nerve in my body. He was going all out trying to make up for the anniversary fiasco and driving me straight to the mad house.
“. . . So I was thinking that maybe this weekend, instead of going to see Mike Epps, we could catch a plane to Vegas for a late anniversary celebration,” he said. “I know the tickets are last minute, but I think we deserve it.”
I was sitting on the bed, thumbing through a magazine, not digesting a single word on the pages. I just wanted everyone to leave me alone to mourn.
I definitely didn’t want to hear any chatter about Vegas. Steven used to love going there. His favorite . . . I caught myself and had to fight back the lump in my throat. Was I going to spend the rest of my life thinking about Steven? I struggled to keep down the tears. I couldn’t cry. Greg knew I was upset about the anniversary, but tears would bring a whole other set of questions.
Still, a part of me wanted to cry in my husband’s arms. He’d grown to love Steven, too. After Steven and Paula got married and he saw how close Paula and I were, he let down his guard. Steven and Greg would’ve probably never been friends on their own—they were too different—but they had developed a mutually respectful friendship over the years.
That made my betrayal even worse.
My cell phone rang, and I saw Paula’s name pop up on the screen.
I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t talk to her yet. I knew that I was going to have to at some point. But I was sure that she had gotten the news by now, and I didn’t know what to say.
“You’re not going to get that?” Greg asked when I tossed the phone back on the bed.
“I don’t feel like talking,” I snapped. “Period.”
“Okay, hint taken,” he said, standing. “I guess I’ll leave you alone.”
“That would be nice.”
Greg stood over the bed, staring at me. “How long are you going to stay mad at me?”
I took a deep breath and slapped the magazine, trying to pretend I wanted to keep reading. “I’m not mad, Greg. I’m over it, okay?”
“It doesn’t seem like it.”
“I’m just not in the mood for conversation.” I would have given everything to just disappear right then. Go to a dark land where no one could talk to me.
“Well, you haven’t been in the mood for conversation since you got home. You slept on the sofa, and if you say that you’re not mad anymore, then I don’t know what it is,” Greg said.
We were interrupted when Liz came rushing into the room with her Samsung Galaxy extended toward me. “Mom,” she said frantically, “it’s Tahiry. She’s on the phone crying. She said Ms. Jean has been trying to call you because Uncle Steven died.”
My daughter didn’t call Paula her aunt, but for some reason she’d taken to calling Steven uncle. Maybe because he was always doing stuff for the girls and they absolutely adored him. Right then, hearing her call him that sent daggers through my heart.
I slept with my daughter’s “uncle.”
“What?” Greg said in shock. “What do you mean, Steven died?”
Liz thrust the phone toward me. “Here, she wants to talk to you.”
I could not get around this with my husband and daughter standing there, staring at me. So I slowly took the phone. “Hello?”
“Nana!” Tahiry cried, which was another punch in the gut.
“Yes?” I said.
She was sobbing hysterically. “They say my dad is dead.”
Both Greg and Liz were staring at me, so I knew I had to sound shocked. “Oh, my God,” I said. “What happened?”
“I don’t know. Some cops just showed up at our door. Mom passed out, she’s up now, but she’s moaning and nobody can get through to her. Granny’s going crazy. Oh, my God! What am I going do? The boys are crying, and I . . . I just can’t believe this.”
“What’s going on?” Liz whispered in the background.
“Can you come over?” Tahiry sobbed. “We need you, Nana.”
How in the world could I say no? “Okay, I’ll be there right away.”
When I hung up, Greg and Liz were standing there, waiting for answers.
“Something horrible has happened,” I said, getting out of bed. “They found Steven dead.”
Greg let out a loud gasp and Liz screamed “No!” as Greg took her into his arms.
“Come on, honey,” Greg said, motioning for me to get up. “You told them we’re on our way over there, right?”
I looked at him and wanted to say “We?” But I just nodded. I knew I had to go through this. I had to go face my friend. Not only did I have to face her, I had to give her a shoulder to cry on. While my husband stood at my shoulder. How in the world was I ever going to live with myself?
15
Felise
IF I COULD HAVE BEEN anywhere else right then, I would have been. I felt like the scum of the earth as I stood in the living room of my best friend’s home. A somber Stevie had opened the door for us. Greg had hugged him, and Tahiry came racing into my arms.
“Nana, why? Why did my dad die?” she cried, squeezing me tight, like she didn’t ever want to let me go. “Whyyyy?”
I held her as my own tears streamed down my face. “Baby, sometimes we don’t understand things.”
“What am I going to do?” Tahiry sobbed.
My guilt aside, my heart broke for Tahiry. She was so much like her father it was eerie, from their beautiful hazel eyes to the dimple in their left cheek to their caring, witty personality. I don’t know if that’s what drew me to her over the years, but I loved Tahiry like she was my own daughter.
“Oh, Felise!” I looked up to see Paula come barreling toward me. I didn’t want to let Tahiry go because I didn’t want to hug Paula. But Tahiry moved aside and into Liz’s arms so the two of them could weep together.
Paula threw her arms around me, and all I could do was stroke her hair as she sobbed and asked, “Why? How could this happen?”
I wished that I could answer that for her. I had no idea why Steven had to die. And certainly not why he had to die at that time and that place. With me.
Greg came up behind Paula and rubbed her back as I held her.
“Paula, I’m so sorry. What happened?” he asked.
Paula stepped back and swiped at her tears. “That’s just it,” she said. “I don’t know. The police said that he was found in his hotel room. All they said was it didn’t look like foul play or anything.”
“I didn’t know he was going out of town,” Greg said.
She buried her face in her hands and sobbed some more. Her mom came and stepped up on the side of her. “He wasn’t. It was the hotel downtown—the Four Seasons.”
Paula sniffed as she tried to explain. “We had a fight, and he spent the night at a hotel. They said he just died in his sleep.”
Greg looked bewildered. “Was he sick?”
“No! I mean, not to my knowledge.”
This thought made Paula wobble like she was about to faint. Greg took her arm and led her to the sofa. While he was cordial to Steven, Greg had a genuine affection for Paula. “Come on, sit down. You don’t need to overexert yourself.”
After he settled her on the sofa, they both looked like they were waiting for me to say something, so I turned to my daughter. “Liz, why don’t you take Tahiry in the kitchen and get her something to drink?”
Tahiry looked at me like she wanted nothing more than to climb into my lap like she used to do when she was a little girl. I nodded to tell her it was okay, and she let Liz lead her out.
Greg eased down next to Paula. “Now, tell us what happened.”
Paula shoo
k her head. I could tell she couldn’t make any sense of what was going on. “They said a maid found him in his hotel bed dead. He must’ve been there all day. They said the Do Not Disturb sign was on the door, so the maid hadn’t cleaned the room. Not until late last night, when they realized that he hadn’t checked out, did they find him.”
“Oh, my God,” Greg said.
I had completely forgotten about the Do Not Disturb sign. The thought of this small detail sprang up like a billboard in my mind, reminding me all over again of how horrible that morning had been. I stood with my hand covering my mouth, tears in my eyes. I didn’t need to act. Watching Paula, I truly was heartbroken. “I just don’t understand it,” I managed to say. Which was the truth.
Greg said, “What did they say was his cause of death?”
Paula dabbed her tears as she pursed her lips to stifle more cries. Her mother, Ms. Jean, stepped up. “They haven’t said yet,” she replied. Her eyes were puffy and red as well. “All they told us is that it doesn’t look like foul play. I think it may have been his heart, but we won’t know until the medical examiner releases his findings.”
“He had a bad heart?” Greg asked. “I didn’t know that.”
Paula looked at me strangely. I had never mentioned that to Greg because I didn’t see the need. And I never knew his condition was bad enough to kill him. Maybe if I had . . .
Paula sniffed again as she told Greg, “Steven had a heart murmur. That’s why he had to stop running marathons. But we thought he had it under control. I just don’t understand. How does somebody just die in their sleep?”
Greg patted her hand. “I’m sure the medical examiner will have some answers for you. In the meantime, is there anything we can do?”
“I guess I need to notify Steven’s mom and begin planning . . . planning his . . .”
I stepped up when she couldn’t finish. “You don’t need to do anything right now.”
Paula extended her hand toward me, and as much as I didn’t want to, I reached out and took it. Her hand felt all soft and flabby, like Steven’s death had sucked everything strong out of her.
“I don’t know how I’m going to make it through this,” she said.
I finally sat down on the other side of her. As guilty as I felt, my grief was real, so I did what I was supposed to do—I let her cry on my shoulder.
“Well, one thing you don’t have to worry about is going through this alone. We are going to be right there for you,” Greg said. “Right, Felise?”
My stomach twisted in another sharp knot. “Right.”
I had never in my life felt as low as I did then.
16
Paula
I DIDN’T KNOW HOW LONG I had been driving around. I just needed to get out of the house. I needed to escape the nightmare that my life had become. I would give anything to turn back the hands of time, to go back just two days. I wouldn’t fight over frivolous things. I wouldn’t make my husband so unhappy that he didn’t want to come home. And most of all, I would push him to go see the doctor. My mind raced back to about exactly this time last month. Steven had canceled his doctor’s appointment because a meeting came up. I had brushed it off.
If only I had pushed him.
But would, could, should—none of those words mattered now. All that mattered was that Steven was gone.
My ringing cell phone snapped me out of my daze. I saw my mother was calling again. She’d been calling me nonstop for the last hour. I knew she was worried sick. I was supposed to be lying down, but the thought of lying in the bed that I had shared with my husband was suffocating and heartbreaking. I pressed Ignore again and continued driving. Before I knew it, I was pulling into the circular driveway of the Four Seasons Hotel. I had no idea what I was looking for, but I needed to come here. I needed some answers, and this seemed to be the only place I could get them.
I parked, then walked to the front desk and asked to speak to a manager. They brought me a curly-haired boy who looked like he couldn’t have been more than twenty-two years old.
“Can I speak to the manager?” I said softly.
He flashed a wide smile. “Um, yeah, you’ve got him.”
“Hi. Uh, I–I . . .” I stammered. “I’m sorry to bother you, but my husband was found here yesterday.”
He lost his smile. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”
“He died here yesterday,” I said, my voice cracking.
A look of compassion immediately crossed the young man’s face. “Oh, I am so sorry. I was off yesterday, but everyone’s talking about it. My condolences to you and your family.”
I didn’t want his condolences. I wanted answers. “Thank you”—I shook as I spoke—“but I’m trying to figure out what happened. When did my husband book the hotel room? Was he here with someone? Did you all find anything out of the ordinary in his room?”
The guy looked at me sadly. “I’m sorry, I can’t give you that information.”
“He’s dead!” I snapped. “What do you think he’s going to do? Come back and sue?”
“Ma’am, calm down please.”
I slammed my hand on the counter. “I will not calm down! I need some answers!”
He looked around. Several people had started staring, but I didn’t care. “Hold on,” he said. He began tapping on one of the computers behind the counter. “Your husband didn’t get the room until late Friday night, and it looks like there was nothing out of the ordinary. Housekeeping said that he was just in the bed, like he’d died in his sleep.”
“Was he alone?”
“Like I said, I wasn’t here, but the room is just in his name.” He checked the screen again, then turned to the girl at the end of the counter, who was trying to act like she wasn’t listening to our conversation. “Lori,” he said, then waited for her to approach. “You checked in Mr. Wright, didn’t you, the other night? The guy they found dead?”
Her hand moved to her heart. “Yes. That is so sad.”
Her sympathy looked genuine, so I asked her, “Was he alone?”
Her eyebrows rose in shock, and she looked over at the manager like she didn’t know what to do.
“It’s okay,” he said. “This is his wife, and as you can imagine, she’s obviously upset. But I told her, we show that he checked into the room by himself, right?”
Lori still looked apprehensive, but she nodded her head. “Yes, he was by himself,” she replied. “He looked a little tipsy and said he was going to get a room to sleep it off.”
I don’t know why that didn’t give me the relief I’d thought it would.
“He had been at the bar drinking,” Lori added, trying to help.
“Maybe he got some kind of alcohol poisoning at the bar,” I said. I knew I was grasping at straws, but I needed something to make sense.
The manager tensed up, and all compassion left his face.
“I’m sorry, that’s all the information we can give you. I could lose my job giving you that much.”
“Thank you,” I said as I spun around and headed toward the bar.
I found a lot of people in the bar area: laughing, flirting couples oblivious to my pain. I immediately marched to the bar.
“Excuse me! Excuse me!” I called out, waving to get the bartender’s attention.
The male bartender was in the middle of taking an order, and he said, “I’ll be with you in just a minute.”
“No!” I said, slamming my palm on the bar counter. “This can’t wait. I need to know something.” I fumbled in my purse and pulled out a picture of my husband. “This man, he was here the other night. Do you recognize him? Were you working?”
He sighed, then excused himself from the customer in front of him and walked over to me. He glanced down at the photo.
“Yeah, I served him. Why?”
“You gave him a lot to drink, and then he died in this hotel. What did you do to him?”
“Whoa, slow down, lady,” the bartender said, holding up his hands in defense. “I
didn’t do anything. I don’t do anything but serve drinks.”
“Was he drunk? Did you keep serving him? Did you give him alcohol poisoning?” The words were rushing from my mouth. I’m sure I looked like a madwoman, but I felt like desperation was swallowing me whole.
“Whoa,” he said. “You need to chill out, lady!”
I couldn’t help it. I started losing it, yelling at the bartender, accusing him of killing my husband, until I felt a hand on my shoulder.
“Paula?” I turned around to see Felise’s old college roommate Sabrina. We’d all hung out when I came back to Texas over the holidays freshman year. I’d seen her a few times over the years. The last time, I was at this hotel for a cheer camp for Tahiry. I’d forgotten that she worked as a bartender here.
“Sabrina!” I said.
“What is going on? What’s wrong?” she asked.
I couldn’t help it. I started crying as I buried my head in my hands.
“Shhh, it’s okay, calm down.” She looked at all the people staring at me, including the bartender, who looked pretty mad. “Hey, Zen, I got it,” she told him. “I’m sorry, she’s upset. Just go on, I’ll handle it.”
Zen still had an attitude, but I couldn’t be concerned with him as I let her lead me into the ladies’ room.
“Now, tell me what’s going on.”
“Steven died here the other night,” I cried. “He was at the bar, then he got a room, and then he died in the room, and I just don’t understand. I don’t understand what happened. I don’t know if he got some type of alcohol poisoning or if somebody killed him or what.”
“Okay, calm down. I assure you, Zen is our best bartender. If he thought Steven was anywhere near drunk enough to get alcohol poisoning, he would’ve stopped serving him.”
I wiped the warm moisture flooding my eyes. “They said it was Steven’s heart. But it just doesn’t make sense!”
She wet a paper towel and handed it to me. “Here. Wipe your face.”
I took it and dabbed my tear-streaked face.
“Look, I will find out what I can for you, okay?” she said. “But Zen is a good guy, and he wouldn’t have poisoned your husband. So just relax, and let me see what I can find out, and I’ll get back in touch with you, okay?”
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