by Beth Flynn
Lucy was so shocked she was shaking. “Jonas, I want you to listen very carefully to me.” She looked up at the ceiling in an attempt to calm herself. “You have mentioned your stepmother on several occasions. You’ve also mentioned Marty a few times. Not once…” She held up a finger to drive home her point. “Not once did you say the words ‘stepmother’ or ‘Marty’ in the same sentence. It’s not like we’ve had a ton of conversations about this, but the ones we did have, you never once alluded to the fact that your stepmother and Marty were the same woman. Not once, Jonas!”
He frowned in disbelief. “Lucy,” he reminded her. “You met her father at the movie theater. Remember Ike?”
“I do remember Ike. And I also remember that you introduced him as Marty’s father. Not Marty, your stepmother’s father, or your step-grandfather!” Her voice raised an octave with the last comment.
Jonas scrubbed a hand down his face, a sign he was getting impatient. “I told you I got my first teardrop and was sentenced to juvie until I was eighteen because I killed Marty’s stalker. Did you forget that?”
Shaking her head, Lucy said, “No, I didn’t forget that. But then again, you didn’t say you killed the man who was stalking your stepmother, Marty. I remember your exact words. ‘Everyone knew Marty had a stalker. A real creeper who lived in our neighborhood. I was walking down the street when I saw him go into the house. I knew she was there because her car was in the driveway, so I ran in after him and found him trying to rip her clothes off.’” Lucy paused to take a calming breath. “That’s what you told me, Jonas. It was a generic description of a woman I thought was your neighbor. You said the guy lived in our neighborhood and that you followed him into the house. You didn’t say I followed him into our house or that you knew she was home because her car was in your driveway. Your description was ambiguous. I’m not stupid. I know you like to call me out on how my intellect doesn’t equal or compare to your street smarts. I can tell you for sure the way you presented that story would’ve given anyone the same impression. I thought Marty was a neighbor.”
Jonas looked thoughtful for a moment and shrugged nonchalantly. “Okay. So now you know. Is it that big of a deal?”
Lucy sat back against her pillow. “No, I guess it’s not really,” she sadly admitted. But it sure does offer a better explanation as to why you might hate your stepmother.
Chapter 71
Even though it appeared to be slowly waning, Lucy had learned to live with her husband’s proclivity for crime. She’d been truthful when she told him she’d fallen in love with the man who lived beneath his rugged and scary exterior. But she’d be lying if she didn’t admit to hoping somewhere deep in her soul that as their marriage, along with her influence, became stronger, his criminal tendencies would fade away. She would soon find out that her hopes had been unreasonable.
Marty hadn’t been mentioned again and Lucy tried not to let the dark thoughts she’d had concerning the possible real reason behind Jonas’ dislike of his stepmother overshadow the joy of their new baby who was expected to arrive in less than two weeks.
It was a humid Tuesday night in August when Lucy found herself listless and uncomfortable. Jonas was working at Ruthies and Brad was driving back from South Miami where he’d met with a wealthy client. Lucy glanced at the clock on the wall and figured Brad would already be home or arriving shortly. She picked up the phone to call him and hung up dejectedly after his machine picked up.
“Looks like it’s just you and me tonight, Chaos,” she said to the Doberman who was sprawled on the couch. “I wish you could give backrubs like your daddy,” she told him. She attributed her restlessness and a discomfort she couldn’t define as normal pregnancy symptoms for someone who was getting close to their due date. She wasn’t in pain but just didn’t feel right. She decided walking might help, so she paced the living room, only stopping to stretch and pat Chaos on the head. It was while she was stretching that she detected a slight pop in her belly, and before she realized what was happening, she felt a warm liquid trickle down her legs. She knew her water broke and after waddling into the bathroom, she shoved a bath towel between her legs and headed for the phone to call her doctor. The answering service picked up, and after taking Lucy’s information, promised that her call would be returned promptly. Which it was.
“But I’m not having contractions,” Lucy told her doctor.
“Your water broke. I’d like you to go to the hospital, Lucy,” he informed her. “I’ll meet you there.”
She hung up the phone and dialed Jonas’ pager. After punching in their predetermined code for this very scenario, she changed the towel between her legs to a dry one and headed back into the kitchen. She didn’t want to risk soaking her cloth furniture, so she sat on a wooden chair and waited for his call. A knock on the door startled her. She made her way to the front door and was grateful to see Brad through the peephole.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” she admitted after opening the door. “My water broke, and I paged Jonas ten minutes ago and he still hasn’t called me.” She leaned across the threshold and looked down the street. “Unless he decided to come straight home.” When Brad didn’t return her enthusiasm, she asked, “Why are you here? I called your house but didn’t leave a message.”
Brad looked at the ground before answering. “Jonas isn’t coming home. At least not tonight, Lucy. And don’t panic. He’s not hurt. He’s in jail.”
Lucy stood back, wide-eyed, and almost buckled as the first contraction hit hard.
“Oh,” she groaned. “How do you know he’s in jail? Did he call you?” she asked through gritted teeth.
Brad shook his head while grabbing her arm to steady her. “I know he was hauled off to jail because I’m the one who called the police on him.”
Chapter 72
After retrieving Lucy’s suitcase and loading her in his car, Brad drove his best friend to the hospital. He cast nervous glances her way as her contractions came in alarmingly close waves.
“What? What happened with Jonas?” she asked after one wave subsided.
“I shouldn’t have told you,” Brad replied. “I’m sorry. I’m sure he’ll be released soon and will be at the hospital in no time. As soon as we get there, I’ll call the jail to make sure they give him the message. I’m going to bet when they took him into custody, they confiscated his pager.”
“Just tell me,” she insisted. “It’ll take my mind off the pain. Ooooohhhh!” she cried as another contraction hit. “Nine, four, four, two, five, three, three,” she repeated under her breath.
“You have to promise me you won’t tell him I’m the one who called the police. Promise, Lucy. Dealing with your husband would be worse than having a running chainsaw thrown at me.”
She struggled to get the words out of her throat. “I won’t tell him,” she promised through clenched teeth. “Now tell me what happened.”
Brad reluctantly told her what he’d witnessed. He was on his way back from his client meeting and stopped to get gas next to a well-known cowboy bar and pool hall called Sharks.
“I know the place,” Lucy cried. “I’ve never been there, but I know it’s one of the places where Jonas collects from Anthony’s debtors. It’s on his way home from Ruthies. Four, six, two, two, three.”
“I guess he stopped in to collect tonight because I saw him coming out.” He then explained that before Jonas emerged from the bar, Brad witnessed four men in the bed of a parked pickup truck harassing two black men who were cutting through the parking lot. “They were minding their own business,” Brad told her. “And two of the rednecks jumped down from the bed of the truck and accused one of the guys of spitting at him. I wasn’t right there, Lucy, but I knew from even where I stood that neither of those men spit at the truck as they walked by.”
He then described how one of the accusers started getting really loud about the time Jonas came out of Sharks. “It really pains me to tell you this, but your husband walked right over to the black guys
and grabbed each one by his arm and practically dragged them behind Sharks. The four guys from the pickup started hooting and hollering and followed them.” Brad’s sigh was audible. “I called the police because I was hoping they would get there before the five of them did any real damage to those two men who were doing nothing but walking through a parking lot.”
Lucy’s cry of anguish wasn’t just for the searing pain tearing through her mid-section but for the two innocent victims of her husband’s alleged crime. “I can feel the baby, Brad. It’s coming out. I can’t believe this is happening.”
They made it to the hospital with only minutes to spare, and Lucy was immediately wheeled into the delivery room. Brad did as promised. He called the jail, and after confirming that Jonas was being held for questioning, asked that he be given a message.
It was all happening so fast Lucy barely had time to process it. She was grateful she didn’t have a prolonged and agonizing delivery. But at the same time, she was sad the baby was coming so quickly Jonas wouldn’t have made it on time anyway.
“We have a head and shoulders but will need one more push before I can tell you if you have a son or a daughter, Lucy,” the doctor told her. “Take a deep breath and when you’re ready, you push.”
Lucy thought she saw the nurses exchange a curious look between themselves. “Is everything okay?” she asked. “Is my baby okay?”
“Your baby is fine,” he assured her. “Are you ready?” He looked up and when Lucy nodded, followed up with, “Okay then. Push, Lucy. Push.”
She did and broke out in tears when the doctor informed her, “You have a son, Lucy. And he’s a big one for being born almost two weeks early. We’ll get him cleaned up for you.”
Lucy craned her neck but couldn’t see as the nurses carried Isaac to a table where they inadvertently blocked her view. His loud wails made her smile and after the doctor finished with her stitches, she was sitting up and anxious to meet the product of her and Jonas’ love.
But her joy was short-lived when they placed her precious son in her arms, and a future without Jonas flashed before her eyes.
Chapter 73
Lucy was too exhausted and disheartened to see Brad, so she politely asked one of the nurses to let him know she gave birth to a healthy baby boy and was doing fine but needed to rest. The woman did as she asked and came back with the report that Brad understood and would be back first thing in the morning. “I’ll make some phone calls in the morning too,” Lucy said with a yawn. “I just want my son all to myself for now.”
The nurse gave her an understanding nod. “It’s hard to get these moments back. Before you know it, friends and family start swarming like a bunch of busy bees.”
New mothers were given the choice to have their babies cared for in the nursery or keep them in their rooms. Lucy was so in love with her new baby boy, she couldn’t fathom the thought of him being whisked away to another part of the maternity wing. She didn’t even want to put him back in his bassinet. When the nurse returned an hour later, Lucy told her, “I could hold him all night.”
“I know, sweetie,” the woman agreed. “But he’s sleeping, so you should sleep. Believe me when I tell you you’ll thank me for this piece of advice.”
She reluctantly passed Isaac over to the nurse, but as tired as she was, sleep wouldn’t come. About four in the morning, she heard him making noises. She pressed the call button and a new nurse arrived in their room. “Your paperwork says you want to breastfeed. I’d be happy to stay until he latches on.” She held up the bottle and said with a grin, “I brought backup. Sometimes new mothers get a little anxious when their babies don’t take to the nipple right away. Your chart says he didn’t want to suckle when you tried earlier.”
It didn’t take long for Isaac to latch on to Lucy’s breast. “Looks like he’s ready now,” the nurse said with a beaming smile. “I’ll leave you two alone. You call me if you need anything.”
Isaac’s first feeding went well, and afterwards, Lucy set him on her lap and removed his wrappings and clothes so she could examine every inch of him for a second time. He was absolutely perfect, and after a thorough inspection, she wrapped him up tight and held him close.
Lucy sensed Jonas before she heard him. Or rather, heard the commotion surrounding his arrival. It was almost six o’clock in the morning and hours before visitors would be admitted, but her husband barged into her room after effortlessly intimidating the seventy-year-old night security guard who’d followed him in.
Clutching Isaac protectively, she told the old man, “He wasn’t able to be here for his birth, so you would be doing me a huge favor if you let my husband stay for a little while.”
The man looked relieved that the scary-looking goliath was in fact the baby’s father. “Thirty minutes and then he has to come back at nine like everybody else,” he informed them with a gravelly voice. “Or I could lose my job,” he added before backing out of the room.
Jonas approached Lucy with a wide smile. “You said ‘his birth.’ It’s a boy? We have a son, Lucy?” He immediately sensed Lucy’s discomfort and asked, “Is he okay? Can you show him to me?”
“He’s perfect, Jonas, but you need to be prepared before I show you our son.” There was a resolve in her voice that caused him to pause.
“Prepared for what?”
“Let me give you a quick lesson in genetics.” She didn’t give him a chance to respond before launching into an explanation that left him baffled.
Shaking his head, he asked, “Why are you telling me about biological quirks and white parents with unknown black ancestors? And what is all this nonsense about how recessive genes regarding pigmentation can lie dormant for generations? What does this have to do with our son?”
“Because when you see him, you need to understand how this could’ve happened.”
“How what could’ve happened?” Jonas pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. Opening them, he questioned, “Lucy, what the hell are you talking about? Can I see my son, please?”
Lucy very carefully unwrapped Isaac and presented him to his father. She knew what to expect in Jonas’ reaction, so was completely taken by surprise when his eyes filled with tears as he reached for the newborn. “He’s beautiful, Lucy. Can I hold him?”
Lucy blinked twice in disbelief. “You think he’s beautiful? I couldn’t agree more, Jonas, but I’m not sure I believe you.”
Jonas squinted in confusion. “Why would you say that?”
“Because I know you don’t care for people of color. I’ve seen signs of it over the course of our years together.”
His laugh was mirthless. “You think I’m a racist? Me?” He pointed to himself.
She lifted her chin. “Yes, I didn’t want to believe it, but like I just said, the signs have been there. I can only guess that one of us has a black ancestor somewhere in our genetic profiles. And Isaac is proof of that.”
He scratched the back of his head, his brows furrowed in confusion. “Yeah, one of us does have a black ancestor. Or rather a bunch of them. Me. But you already know this. You’ve known it all along.”
In a defiant tone, she shot back, “I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.”
“Lucy, I’m black.” He paused when she didn’t immediately react. “Even though I’ve always passed for white. I have black parents. You were talking about biological quirks. I guess you’re looking at one. Me. But you can’t deny you didn’t know all this time. I’ve never been ashamed of my race or who I am. We have a black son because I’m black. Yeah, he could’ve come out looking more like you, but I’m glad he didn’t.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “Do you have a problem with our son’s dark skin?”
“How dare you!” she accused with a huff. “I was so sure you would reject him, you could’ve dug my heart out with a dull spoon for all that I’ve suffered in the past several hours. Believing I would have to choose between my husband and my child because I didn’t think you would accept him. Don’t be
offended, Jonas, but I would never give up my baby. Not even for you.”
“Good!” he told her. “Now tell me what made you think I would reject him? And why didn’t you tell me before now?”
Lucy’s eyes brimmed with tears. “I didn’t bring it up because I didn’t want to believe it. It started back at the cabin when you showed me the family picture. The same one that sits on the wall unit in our living room. It shows two men sitting on a porch with a boy, your father, between them. It was a black-and-white picture and not only was there a shadow over your father’s face, but it was a grainy snapshot from an ancient camera. I even commented the men seemed like unlikely friends for that time, and you agreed. Don’t you see? Because you look white and the picture didn’t hint at your father’s ethnicity, I assumed the black man was Cleo, your grandfather’s friend turned enemy. It didn’t even occur to me that the man with the dark skin was your grandfather. And when you were telling me about Cleo, you had anger in your eyes. It was a normal assumption on my part because even you just admitted you don’t look black, Jonas. Not even a little.”
He swiped his hand through his hair. “I used to get that a lot as a kid. I guess I’m the one who’s had a pigmentation gene lying dormant somewhere in my family’s history. But, I never hid from who I am and never will. I showed you that picture our first day at the cabin.” He could tell by her expression she wasn’t completely convinced. “Lucy, it’s not like our ancestral backgrounds were a topic of conversation. I don’t ever remember asking you if you were white.”
She gave him a look that said, Really Jonas? “So I guess you can easily see why I never asked you if you were black.”
Lucy could tell by his expression he’d never considered it. With a determined set of her jaw, she confronted Jonas about the real issue in their marriage. And it had nothing to do with skin color but rather his inability to discuss intimate details of his life. “Your inability to share intimate and personal feelings is why I never picked up on your background, Jonas.”