What's Done In the Dark

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What's Done In the Dark Page 10

by ReShonda Tate Billingsley


  I couldn’t disagree with him about that. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m not trying to be difficult.”

  “It’s understandable. You’re going through a lot.” He scooched closer on the bed and began massaging the back of my neck. His touch felt like an invasion, and I flinched, then ducked away from his touch.

  He held his hands up. “Sorry.”

  I let out a long sigh. “No, I’m sorry.”

  “I understand, baby. You got a lot going on.” I sensed the edge in his voice. He had thought he’d won out over Steven, but now he could see how deeply I was affected. His phone rang, and he reached into his pocket to cut it off. “I was just saying, I know you are going through a lot right now, but I want us to be able to pick up the pieces and move on.”

  That sounded less like comfort and more like a threat. Or maybe I was imagining things.

  The phone rang again. This time Greg glanced at the display and said, “I’m sorry, babe. Gimme a second. Hello,” he answered.

  I narrowed my eyes at the sound of the woman’s voice.

  “Hello . . . Um, yeah, I’m in the middle of something. Okay. Will do. I’ll call you back.”

  It took everything in my power not to go off as he hung up the phone.

  “Who was that?”

  “What?”

  “I didn’t stutter.”

  “That was Donna from work.” He had the nerve to look appalled that I was questioning him.

  “Who is Donna?” I snapped.

  “Really?” he said. “You know me better than that, Felise.”

  “I know I’m not going to let you make a fool out of me,” I said, snatching the phone from him. I glanced down and saw several text messages on his screen. Need u now, I read. I looked up at him in shock. “ ‘Need u now’? Who the hell is Donna, and why is she talking about needing you now? Tell your hos not to call you in the middle of the night!”

  He stared at me in disbelief. “Wow. My hos? Donna is my supervisor.”

  “You must think I’m stupid. I know your boss, and she is a he.” I was so not in the mood for Greg trying to play me. He’d had a brief affair nine years ago, and I’d found out this exact same way—from him ignoring her phone calls. Granted, Greg and I had gone to counseling and worked through that, but I wasn’t about to travel down that road again. I pushed Donna’s name on the phone and put the phone to my ear.

  “May I speak to Donna?” I snapped as soon as the woman answered. I half expected Greg to snatch the phone away.

  “This is she,” the woman said.

  “Yes, Donna, this is Felise Mavins, Greg Mavins’s wife. I’m trying to understand why you’re texting and calling my husband at almost one in the morning. News flash, he’s married.”

  Silence filled the phone before the woman said, “Umm, I know that.”

  “And I guess you just don’t care.”

  “Umm, wow, okay. This is Donna Langley—I’m one of the new partners. I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure of meeting as I just transferred in two weeks ago. I wasn’t trying to cause any problems, but my computer crashed and I lost a report Greg did and we need it for a presentation in the morning. That’s all.”

  I swear, if I could’ve made myself disappear in a tiny hole in the earth, I would have.

  “Ah, ah, I . . .”

  Greg snatched the phone away. “Donna, I can’t apologize to you enough for my wife. As you can imagine, she’s very upset about her friend’s husband, and that’s the only reason I can imagine that she would do something like this. So please accept our sincerest apology for disturbing you.” He let her respond, and I could only imagine what she was saying. “I’m sorry, I was just trying to be by my wife’s side, I was going to call you back . . . Yes, ma’am. I will email you over another copy of the report right away.”

  Greg hung up the phone and glared at me. “I know that you’re going through a very difficult time, and for that reason, and that reason only, I’m going to give you a pass. But don’t ever, ever do some anything like that again.”

  “But I mean Miranda . . .”

  “Miranda was almost ten years ago. We went to counseling. You said you forgave me. And I have never given you reason since then to believe that I am unfaithful.” He was steaming, and now he had another reason to be upset. “You know I don’t do that ghetto foolishness of calling and confronting someone.” He stood, then walked toward the door. “It’s obvious you need some ‘me’ time, so I’m going to sleep in the guest room. Hopefully, when you wake up tomorrow, you’ll be in a better place because this is absolutely unacceptable.”

  Greg walked sternly out the room. Well, I told myself, feeling helpless, at least I got him to go away.

  24

  Paula

  I WANTED TO SCREAM AT the sound of someone tapping on my bedroom door. I wanted everyone to leave me alone. I didn’t want to come out from under these covers. I knew my mother was as much of a basket case as I, so I knew she wouldn’t be much help. But hopefully, my sister was holding it down. I couldn’t deal with her over-the-top behind either, but at least she was handling my children. I’d tried to spend the day with them yesterday after I saw how they were grieving, too, and although I’d made it through the day, today I had retreated back to my safe place: under my covers.

  “Hey, Paula, someone’s here to see you,” Charlene said, easing my door open, despite the fact that I hadn’t bothered to answer.

  “Ugggh,” I groaned. I didn’t feel like visitors. Why did people always feel the need to come visiting you when you’d lost a loved one? Didn’t they say everything they needed to at the funeral?

  “Who is it?” I moaned.

  “You need to get up and come see,” she replied. “They have on plain clothes, but I can smell a cop a mile away.”

  I sat up in bed. “Cops?”

  “Yeah, I think they’re detectives or something.”

  “What do they want?”

  “I don’t know. You?”

  “Maybe they have some news about Steven.” I threw my covers back and stood up. I knew I looked a hot mess, so I ran my fingers through my hair. I threw my robe over my pajamas and made my way downstairs.

  “Where’s Mama?” I asked.

  “Same place you were, in the bed.”

  My heart was racing as I spotted the two men standing in the living room. I hoped that they had some information, that my husband had been the victim of a brutal robbery gone wrong, something other than that he had died from a heart condition. A condition I knew about when I told him I wanted a divorce.

  “May I help you?” I asked.

  “Hi, Mrs. Wright, I’m Detective Clark Aimes. We wanted to let you know that we have concluded our investigation.” He handed me a sealed envelope. “Since the autopsy confirms that your husband did die of heart failure, we’re closing the case. All the details are in that letter.”

  The other detective handed me a box. “We also wanted to drop off his belongings. A few things that were in the hotel room.”

  When I didn’t make any attempt to move, Charlene stepped forward and took the box. “I don’t understand. Why are you closing the case?” I asked.

  “There’s nothing else to look into. Everything appears to be in order.”

  “In order? How could a thirty-six-year-old man dying be in order?”

  “I’m sorry.” He squeezed my hand, and then both of them headed out the door.

  I sat heavily on the sofa, the box set on the table in front of me. My sister was standing by, looking uneasy, while I set the official report down, then pulled the box toward me. I pulled out my husband’s wallet and fingered it while I tried to keep a tear from escaping. I could not believe this. It was over.

  “Umm, Paula, I know that you’re dealing with a lot, but . . .”

  “But what, Charlene?” I wasn’t in the mood for my flighty sister. I just wanted to sit here and go through my husband’s belongings.

  “I don’t know how to say this,” Char
lene said, fidgeting with her hands.

  “Say what?” I asked, not trying to hide my irritation.

  “Okay,” Charlene shifted from side to side, “but you’re going to be really mad.”

  “Mad about what, Charlene? Just tell me. I don’t have time for games.”

  She was biting her bottom lip, which was not a good sign. “Tahiry isn’t here.”

  A prickle of alarm made me sit up straighter. “What do you mean, she’s not here? Where is she?”

  My sister ran her fingers through her hair but didn’t answer as her eyes darted about, like she was looking for a way to escape.

  “Where is Tahiry?” I demanded.

  “I–I don’t know,” my sister stammered. “I let her go to this party last night, and, ah, she didn’t come home.”

  I stood up abruptly, nearly knocking over the box. “What do you mean, she didn’t come home? What party did she go to? She’s fourteen! She doesn’t go to parties!”

  “How am I supposed to know that?” my sister cried. “You were so out of it, the boys were driving me crazy, and Mama was a basket case.” She started talking real fast. “Tahiry was stressing out and wanted to go to that party, and . . . and I thought it would make her feel better.”

  “Oh, my God, where is my daughter?” I yelled.

  “I don’t know. I tried calling her cell phone, but it’s going straight to voice mail.” My sister looked more frazzled than I was. “I can’t handle this. I don’t do kids. Where is Felise? She needs to be here helping with this stuff.”

  “I don’t know. I don’t know. I just need to know where my child is,” I cried, shaking my sister. “Call Felise—see if she knows where Tahiry is. Just find my daughter, do you hear me?”

  I fell back on my sofa. “I just can’t take any more.” I continued crying as I buried my head in my hands.

  25

  Felise

  I WAS STANDING IN THE middle of the kitchen, getting ready to go, as my husband entered. He gave me a strange look. I hoped that he wasn’t going to grill me about that Donna fiasco. I’d overacted. Big deal. I wasn’t about to get into another argument about it.

  “What?” I finally said as I stuffed a bottle of Aleve into my purse.

  Greg pointed to my scrubs. “So, you’re going to work?”

  “Where else would I be going?” I looked around for my bottled water. I’d been off for a week and a half, and I needed to show up before I lost my job. Besides, I’d made up my mind last night that I wasn’t going to wallow in sorrow anymore. Maybe going back to the busy ER would keep my mind off my loss.

  “Where else would you be going?” Greg asked. “I don’t know, maybe to see about your friend? She called me yesterday, concerned because she hadn’t talked to you.”

  “Why is she calling you?” I rolled my eyes in disgust. “Fine, I’ll call her on my way to work. Does that make you feel better?”

  He held up his hands in defense. “Sorry, I just . . . I don’t know, I mean Liz has been going over there every day, and it seems like you’d be trying to go over there, too.”

  I tossed my purse over my shoulder, not bothering to hide my agitation. “So now you’re planning my schedule, too? Isn’t your own schedule full enough?”

  “Okay, okay. Don’t bite my head off,” he said. “I was just asking.”

  I huffed as I snatched my keys off the counter. I felt like I was slowly falling into a horrible abyss and I needed to escape.

  “I have to go to work.”

  “Fine,” Greg said, shaking his head as he turned to walk away.

  “I don’t understand what everybody wants from me,” I mumbled.

  He stopped, spun back around. “I don’t want a thing, okay? I just asked.” He was agitated now, too. That was how he worked. Whenever he felt on the defensive, he got mad about it.

  I left without saying another word. I had just pulled out of my garage when my cell phone rang. Paula’s home line popped up. I found myself wishing she had other friends.

  “Hello,” I said, answering only because I didn’t need her calling Greg and creating more drama.

  “Hey, um, yes, Felise, this is Charlene, Paula’s sister. Um, is Tahiry at your house?”

  I frowned. “No. Liz wants to come over to your house.”

  She sighed like that was not the answer she was hoping to hear. “Well, Tahiry didn’t come home, and we don’t know where she is.”

  “What do you mean, she didn’t come home?”

  Charlene rushed the words out. “She went to a party last night, and oh, my God, I can’t do this! I don’t handle kids!”

  I quickly pulled over to the side of the road so I could give her my full attention. “Okay, just calm down. What’s going on?”

  “I let her go to a party last night.”

  “Tahiry? To a party? Where?”

  “I don’t know. Look, she was upset, and I thought it would help her feel better.”

  I couldn’t believe Charlene. She always had been ditzy. Who lets a fourteen year old go to a night party and doesn’t get details?

  “Let me call my daughter. Maybe she knows something. I’ll call you right back.” I hung up the phone and called Liz.

  “Hey, honey,” I said when she picked up.

  “Hey, Mom.” Her voice was cold, and that made me sad. Liz wasn’t like most young teenagers. She really was a good kid, and I know she was trying to understand why I’d been snapping at her so much lately. After I managed to lift myself out of my misery, I was going to have to do something nice to make up for how I’d been acting.

  “Have you talked to Tahiry?” I asked.

  “No, why?”

  “She didn’t come home last night.” Liz didn’t offer a helpful response. “Do you know where she is?” I continued. When she still didn’t say anything, I said, “Liz. I need you to tell me where she is.”

  “Mom, she’s just upset.”

  “Elizabeth, where is she?”

  “She spent the night over Kayla’s house,” she finally admitted. “That’s why I wanted to go over there this morning. She really needed me to be there for her.”

  I groaned. Kayla was a fast-tail girl that neither Paula nor I liked our daughters hanging around.

  “What is she doing with— You know what, never mind. Call her and tell her I’m on my way over to get her right now.”

  I didn’t think as I made a U-turn in the middle of the street. I called Charlene back to tell her I was going to get Tahiry and would be to their house in a half hour.

  Less than ten minutes later, I was knocking on the door to the home Kayla shared with her six siblings and her grandmother.

  The older woman, complete with pink hair rollers and a bent cigarette dangling from her mouth, answered the door.

  “Who you is?”

  I fought the urge to correct her English. “I’m looking for Tahiry. I’m her godmother.”

  The woman looked me up and down as if she was trying to gauge whether I was telling the truth. As if some random woman would show up claiming a teenage girl. I wanted to berate this old woman for letting Tahiry stay here in the first place, but I held my tongue until she let me in.

  “She back in the back.” The woman stepped aside.

  Once I was in the tiny, dirty living room, I couldn’t help complaining. “You didn’t think to call her mom?”

  The woman’s hands went to her hips. “Look, I got a hard enough time keeping up with that hot granddaughter of mine and her little crumb-snatcher brothers. I’m watching Wheel of Fortune and Family Feud, and I ain’t got no time to be asking her who she bringing in and out her room!”

  I decided it would be useless to have a conversation with this woman. Just get Tahiry and get out of here.

  She turned toward the TV show and screamed, “Drinks and food! How you not gon’ say drinks and food? Chimney?” she shouted. “Now, that’s the dumbest question ever!” She turned to me. “The question was, name something that’s on the house. A ch
imney, really? Look! Even Steve thinks it’s crazy! Look at him rolling his eyes!” she said, pointing at the TV. Then she had the nerve to lick her lips. “Mmm, mmm, mmm, I tell you, if I was a few years younger, back in my heyday I woulda had that man. But now I’m waiting on them to invent some Viagra for women before I get back on the dating scene.” She cackled.

  “Tahiry, please?”

  She rolled her eyes, annoyed that I didn’t find her humor entertaining.

  “Kayla!” she screamed. “Someone is here for your friend.”

  After a teenage minute, Kayla finally walked in, Tahiry lagging behind her. Kayla was wearing a pair of Daisy Duke shorts and a fishnet tank top with her bra showing. She looked like a cheap hooker, especially the way she was smacking on her gum. I couldn’t for the life of me understand why Tahiry or my daughter hung around this girl.

  “Tahiry, your mother’s worried sick,” I said.

  “She ain’t worried about nobody but herself,” Tahiry said, her eyes betraying her sadness.

  I took a deep breath. “Tahiry, this is hard on everyone.”

  “You think it’s not hard on me?” Tahiry cried, like she was bursting out of a shell. “My daddy’s gone! And I can’t talk to my momma or my granny! I’m just supposed to deal with this by myself!”

  I took her into my arms and hugged her. “I am so sorry, honey. But you know you can always come to me.”

  She sobbed as she clutched me for dear life. “What am I going to do, Nana?” she said as I stroked her hair. “What am I supposed to do without my daddy?”

  “Excuse me?” Kayla’s grandmother said. “They ’bout to do the lightning round. Can you take her on home and y’all finish that conversation in the car?”

  Kayla actually laughed.

  I took Tahiry’s hand. “Gladly,” I said, leading her to the door.

  “Bye, Kayla,” Tahiry said, sniffing as she followed behind me.

  “I’ll call you, girl,” Kayla said as she blew a big bubble.

  When Tahiry and I were settled in the car, I said, “What are you doin’, honey? Don’t ever do that again. You had us all worried to death.”

 

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