What's Done In the Dark

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What's Done In the Dark Page 18

by ReShonda Tate Billingsley


  “Wow. So, you’re really doing it?”

  I had shifted his workout clothes out of the bottom drawer into a box. I hadn’t decided what I was going to do with all his stuff. I wasn’t ready to give it away just yet, so I was placing it in the attic for storage.

  “Yeah, I know. I figured, why keep putting it off?”

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to help?” Felise asked. “I can come over there now. We can pack up, then, um, maybe we can sit down and, you know, just, um, talk.”

  “Thank you so much, but I’m sure.” I glanced around the room. I needed to be alone. “I’m not going to let Steven’s memory die, but I have to remove this stuff so I can move on with living.”

  Felise was quiet. “I’m so sorry you’re having to go through this,” she softly said.

  “Yeah, I don’t understand why God does things the way he does. But I guess I have to live with it.”

  “We all do,” she mumbled.

  I shook off my melancholy thoughts. I was in a good place now, and I wanted to stay there. “So, what’s on tap for you today?”

  “I’m about to go to work. I’m going through some stuff over here myself,” she confessed.

  “I’m so sorry. I haven’t even checked to see how things are going in your life.” I didn’t want to bring up her troubles with Greg. If she wanted to talk about it, she’d bring it up.

  “You don’t worry about me,” Felise said. “I’m pulling myself together. Steven’s mom called me, though. She’s worried about you.”

  “I need to call her. This obsessive quest for some answers I was on had everybody concerned.”

  “Have you given that up?” Felise asked.

  “Yep. It’s time to let it go.” I closed up one box and pulled another up on the bed. “I prayed for a sign and I got one, and now I’m trying to achieve some closure. My kids need me to pull it together. I’ve pawned them off on family for too long. It’s time for me to get back to the mothering business.”

  “I am so happy to hear that,” Felise said.

  “Oh, yeah, and my new business,” I added. Just the thought warmed my insides. My business.

  “What business?” Felise asked, sounding surprised.

  “Event planning. Party Wright Planning,” I said. “Get the play on words? Paula Wright. Party Right.”

  She laughed. “I love it. In the midst of everything, you’re branching out into your own business—that’s so awesome. I’m so proud of you. I’ll call you later.”

  I said good-bye, hung up, then resumed my packing. I stopped as I caught my reflection in the mirror. I was proud of me, too. I just wished that I’d discovered this when Steven was alive. It’s like his death had given me new life. Maybe if I had . . . I caught myself. I can’t live in a world of maybes now, I thought as I returned to packing up my husband’s things.

  47

  Felise

  I SAT ON THE SOFA as my husband stood towering over me. I felt like a child being scolded, but I knew that I deserved any wrath that I might incur.

  When he’d shown up this morning, I’d been hoping he would be bringing his belongings. He’d been gone a week since my confession, and Liz was starting to get suspicious. And each day he spent away made me less confident that he was coming back.

  Greg took a deep breath. “I’ve thought long and hard about this. I don’t understand how you could betray me, and betray your best friend like that. And I know you want to say that it just happened, but you carried that deception past that hotel room that night.”

  I wanted to speak out in my defense. Ask him, What was I supposed to do? How was I supposed to handle this? But I didn’t know what else to say, and I knew nothing I said would be good enough. So I kept my mouth closed and prayed that my husband wasn’t about to tell me that he was leaving me—leaving our family.

  He swallowed hard like he was trying to keep his composure.

  “I have played every minute over and over in my head. My emotions have ranged from devastated to downright distraught. You had sex with your best friend’s husband on our anniversary. How do we heal from that? How do we move past that?”

  I didn’t realize until then that tears were dripping down my cheeks. I looked up at him and said, “I don’t know, but we try. I’m willing to do whatever I have to do to get you to forgive me.”

  “At first, I was blaming myself,” he continued, pacing the room, “saying that my neglect forced you into the arms of the man my child calls uncle. I kept asking myself, Where did I go wrong? How could I have kept her from cheating on me? And then over the last couple of days, the revelation came that you’re a grown woman. Yes, we might’ve had our problems, but if you were that unhappy, then you should’ve left me. You don’t seek solace in the arms of another man. You don’t go to the other side, hoping the grass is greener. You water the lawn you have!” He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. I let him say what he needed to say.

  “Over the years, you worked hard to assure me that you and Steven were strictly friends, that the vibes I had gotten in the beginning were all my imagination,” he continued. “You make me feel like our whole marriage was built on a lie.”

  Now he was being extreme. No, I wasn’t completely honest about my relationship with Steven. That was simply because I knew he wouldn’t be able to handle it and it would end up affecting our relationship with Paula. At the time, though, I did believe it. I actually believed I didn’t have feelings for Steven.

  “How am I supposed to get over this?” he asked.

  I couldn’t help it. I said, “The same way I did.”

  He glared at me. “I knew that would come up. The two don’t even compare. What I did with Miranda was wrong, but you didn’t know her. I didn’t bring her around, pretending that she was my friend. I didn’t treat her like family.”

  I wasn’t trying to get into a whose-affair-was-worse conversation. I just wanted my husband to forgive me.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I meant, I want you to find it in your heart to work through this.”

  “So you’re saying you want me to just pretend none of this ever happened,” he continued. “You want me to act like I don’t know about your deception.”

  “No,” I said softly. “I want you to forgive me, and I will spend every waking moment trying to make this up to you. But Liz and I need—“

  “Don’t!” he said, interrupting me. “Don’t you dare bring our daughter into this! Because if you cared about our daughter at all, you would’ve picked up some random dude off the street before you picked up this man that we all loved and cared about. You betrayed us all!” He inhaled again. “I don’t know how I’m going to get over this.” He stood for a moment, then turned and looked at me. “But I’m willing to try.”

  I wanted to jump from my seat and throw my arms around his neck, but I stood slowly. “Thank you, that’s all I can ask.”

  “Have you told Paula?” he asked.

  “No.” I prayed he didn’t make telling her a condition of us staying together.

  “Don’t,” he said. “She’s in enough pain, and she is finally managing to move forward. Your betrayal would only set her back.”

  I wanted to dance a jig. I didn’t know if that was really why he didn’t want Paula to know, or if he didn’t want people talking about him for staying with me. I didn’t really care. I was just glad that he was staying.

  “I promise, I’m going to spend my lifetime making this up to you.” I stepped toward him to lean in for a kiss. He spun around and walked away.

  “I’m staying, but I’ll be sleeping in the guest room for now.”

  I watched him round the corner, and then any joy I felt vanished when I heard him say, “Oh, no, Liz!”

  I jumped from my seat and hurried over to where he stood, towering over my baby. She was sitting on the floor, crouched against the wall, her knees pulled up to her chest. Judging from the way she was shaking and the tears streaming down her face, she’d heard everyt
hing.

  “Liz, baby, I’m so sorry,” I said, falling to the floor next to her.

  I tried to take her in my arms, but she yanked herself away. “You had sex with Uncle Steven?”

  I looked up at Greg, and any rage he’d managed to conquer had returned in full force. He charged out the door and left me to deal with our daughter alone.

  48

  Paula

  “REMEMBER, I WANT THE PLAYLIST to be clean and a lot of old-school nineties music,” I told the deejay. I’d spent the last hour tracking down DJ Xtreme, who I was told was one of the best deejays in Houston. I’d finally caught up with him and, after turning on the charm, convinced him to take this last-minute gig.

  “Got it,” he replied. “We are all set.”

  “Wonderful, so if you can be there about nine, that will be great,” I told him.

  “Who should I send this invoice to?” he asked.

  “To Party Wright Planning at gmail dot com,” I replied proudly.

  “Cool, it’s on the way.”

  I hung up the phone, feeling invigorated. In a matter of days, I’d confirmed a menu with the hotel, booked the deejay, secured decorations—shoot, planned a whole party. And I still had six days to spare.

  “You sure are working hard,” my mom said, walking into the den, where I’d set up shop. Eventually, I would take over Steven’s office, but I wasn’t ready to do that yet. Even though I’d packed up most of his stuff in the bedroom, clearing out his office seemed so final.

  “Yeah, Mom, I am so loving this. I can’t believe I didn’t get into this earlier.”

  “I can’t either,” my mom replied. “Now that I think about it, it’s a natural fit. Remember, you and Felise were chair and co-chair of the junior and senior prom?”

  “Oh, yeah.” I laughed. “And I kept complaining because I was doing all the work while Felise was off somewhere goofing off.”

  “Well, you have definitely found your calling.” My mom leaned in and looked at my computer screen. “Do you have a website already?”

  “No, this is just the sample the web designer sent to me to approve.” I leaned back so she could get a good look. “You like it?”

  She shrugged. “You know I don’t know anything about all that Internet stuff. But it looks nice to me.”

  I loved the bright, sleek design. I’d spent twenty minutes on the phone with the web designer, Jeremy, telling him my vision, and he’d come back with the perfect design. “Yeah, I think so, too.” I handed her one of the invitations for Felise’s party, which was lying next to my computer. “Aren’t these cute?”

  “Waste of paper if you ask me. Just call folks,” my mother said.

  I shook my head at her. “Are you coming to the party? Rodney said we can bring the boys back over there.”

  “Do I have to buy a gift?”

  “No,” I chuckled. “I’ll write your name on my gift.”

  My mom grinned widely as she headed out the door. “Then I’m in like Flynn.”

  I shut my computer down and began cleaning up my desk. In addition to Felise’s party, I’d already booked a baby shower for my next-door neighbor, so I’d begun planning that as well.

  “Hey, anybody home?”

  I smiled at the sound of my daughter bouncing up the stairs. She was riding back from cheer camp with one of her teammates and they were supposed to be back an hour ago, so I was glad to have her home.

  “In my room, hon,” I called out.

  She eased into my room gingerly, as if she was trying to gauge my mood. I greeted her with a huge smile, which in turn made her smile.

  “Hey, Mom,” she said, coming over to hug me. It felt good to hug my daughter. We’d been so at odds since she’d turned thirteen.

  “How was camp?”

  “Super cool. Mrs. Vega said to tell you hi and that she’s praying for you,” Tahiry said, referring to her teammate’s mother who had dropped her off. I made a mental note to call Mrs. Vega and thank her.

  “So tell me all about camp,” I said, turning and giving my daughter my undivided attention.

  Tahiry plopped down on my bed and began running down all the things she’d done the past week.

  “It was sooo much fun. I’m glad you made me go. My friend Shelby had these awesome twists. I want you to do my hair like that.”

  My mother had come in the room midway through Tahiry’s camp rundown. She, too, had stood, listening intently. She finally interjected. “Sweetie, your mom is starting her own business, so her plate is full,” my mom said. “But how about Granny twists them later on?”

  Tahiry turned up her nose. “Granny, you don’t know how to twist!”

  “Well, I know how to plait. I can plait your hair.” She reached for Tahiry’s hair.

  “Eww, as if!” Tahiry ducked out of her reach, and they both laughed.

  “Go check on your brothers and I’ll take you guys out for ice cream later on,” my mother said.

  “Ice cream? That is so elementary.”

  “I’ll let you get sprinkles and nuts.”

  “All right, cool.” She laughed before darting off.

  Once again, I couldn’t help but be grateful that Felise had stepped up and gotten everything Tahiry needed together to make sure she could go to camp. Judging by how she looked coming home, it had done her good. Maybe now both of us could get on the path to healing.

  49

  Felise

  IT HAD TAKEN ME MORE than an hour to get Liz calmed down. Greg had locked himself in the guest room and hadn’t come out. I know he was feeling a mixture of anger and sadness because although he was an absentee parent, he loved Liz with everything inside him. So I knew that it broke his heart to see her hurting. I hoped that Liz’s finding out didn’t change his decision to give our marriage another try. I would talk with him about it later that night, but right then I needed to focus on my daughter. She had literally cried herself to sleep, and now I was sitting in the corner of her bedroom, watching her.

  I debated whether I should go talk to Greg, but I wanted to be here when she woke up. Besides, I needed to give him time to cool down.

  Finally, she stirred, her eyes slowly fluttering open.

  “Mom?” I could tell she was thinking as the memory of the last few hours came back to her.

  “I’m here, sweetie.”

  Sadness blanketed her face as she pulled herself up against her headboard.

  “Can we talk?”

  She slowly nodded.

  “I don’t know how much you heard.”

  “Everything.”

  I got up and sat on her bed. “I’m really sorry, honey. There are so many things that I wish that I could do differently. I would die if you hated me.”

  She didn’t respond at first, but once she’d considered what I said, she replied, “I don’t hate you. I could never hate you.”

  I didn’t know how much I should share with my daughter, but I knew she was inquisitive and she wouldn’t be able to make sense of any of this until she had some answers.

  “It’s complicated,” I began, “but long story short, your uncle Steven and I used to date back in college.”

  “What?”

  “We were really good friends who crossed the line and started dating. We thought it was a mistake, and I ended up fixing him up with Paula.”

  “Ewww, I would never want Tahiry’s sloppy seconds.”

  I managed a tight smile. “Well, we didn’t see it as that, and we never told anyone how close we really were. In fact, I think we even convinced ourselves.”

  “I don’t understand. What does that have to do with now?”

  “The night before he died, well, we made a big mistake.”

  “And slept together?” she finished.

  I nodded.

  “Did you have anything to do with him dying?”

  “No,” I said. At least I hoped I didn’t.

  Liz didn’t ask any more questions after that. I could tell that she was trying to put
together such a grown-up complication in her own teenage terms. She wouldn’t be able to figure it out right away. She’d need time to process how something like this could have happened. I was relieved, though, when she finally slumped against me, resting her head on my chest.

  “You’re in a lot more trouble than I’ve ever been.”

  50

  Paula

  “MOMMY! MASON WON’T LEAVE ME alone!”

  “Tell him to stop looking at me.”

  I never thought I’d be happy to hear my kids fighting. But that meant that we were returning to some sense of normalcy. And that was a wonderful feeling.

  “Mason, leave your brother alone. Marcus, stop looking at your brother. Stevie, can you take out the garbage?”

  I was sitting at the bar, going over some details for Felise’s party. I’d let Stevie move his PlayStation into the living room, an idea I’d adamantly opposed for the longest time, but I knew the last thing he needed was to be cooped up in his room.

  “Aww, Ma. Why can’t Marcus and Mason take it out?”

  “You didn’t start taking the garbage out until you were six, so they still have few more years. Come on, son.”

  He placed the controller on the couch cushion and stood up. I had to do a double take because usually I had to fight to get him to do anything. But I’d seen a change in my son since Steven’s death.

  “Uggh!” Tahiry screamed as she stomped into the kitchen.

  “What in the world is wrong with you?” I asked.

  “It’s Chelsea.” She plopped down in the barstool across from me. “She makes me sick. I hate her!”

  “Chelsea as in your best friend Chelsea?” I asked.

  “She’s not my best friend anymore. I hate her.” Tahiry had her bottom lip stuck out like she used to do when she was a little girl.

  I set my paper down and gave her my undivided attention.

  “Honey, hate is a wasted energy. But tell me what happened.”

 

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