My Soul Then Sings

by Michelle Lindo-Rice

  Frank leaned into his ear. “This is not for the faint of heart. Be sure. There’s no undoing once things get started.”

  Ryan gulped and held back his shiver. “I’m sure.”

  “I’ll be in touch.”

  It took Ryan an hour to steady his equilibrium. He wasn’t sure what Frank would do, but he knew he wouldn’t like it.

  He knew he couldn’t go into work because there was no way he would be able to concentrate. Ryan drove around aimlessly before calling Brian. No answer. No surprise there. He tried Karlie next.

  She picked up on his second ring. Ryan pulled over to the curb to speak to her. “How’ve you been?”

  “I only picked up to let you know I’m ready to do the paternity test.”

  Her frosty tone intimidated him somewhat. Ryan wasn’t sure how to connect with her. “I’m glad, Karlie. I need—no—we both need to know.”

  “Fair enough, but I need you to know that no paternity test is going to change the fact that Neil Jameson is my real father.”

  Her words cut deep. Though Ryan had felt Neil was best for her years ago, hearing Karlie say it jabbed a knife through him. “I wouldn’t try to take Neil’s place—”

  “Good, because you can’t,” she interrupted.

  Ryan counted to five. “I would like us to have a relationship if the results show I’m your father.”

  “I . . .”

  Ryan prayed she would give him a chance.

  “Let’s do this, get the results, and then . . . We’ll see,” Karlie said. “I won’t make any promises, but that’s the best I can do.”

  Considering his terrible deed, Karlie was being more than generous. “One day at a time,” Ryan said. “Thank you for answering my call.”

  “You’re welcome, Mr. Oakes.”

  Her polite formality was more hurtful than her cool demeanor. “How’s Brian?”

  “I saw him yesterday for the first time in about a month,” Karlie said. “He’s okay, I guess.”

  That told him nothing, but at least Ryan knew his son was alive and well. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” Karlie ended the call.

  By the look and sound of things, Ryan had a long bumpy road ahead. Nothing in his life was going right. He slumped over the wheel. His life was so complicated. Life had wrapped itself around his neck and was squeezing the air out of him. Now he understood why some men shot themselves in the head because his brain was moving 300 miles a minute.

  Ryan held his head with both hands as despair overwhelmed him. “It’s too much.” He turned his head and noticed the store sign. He had parked beside a gun shop.

  Why not end it now?

  What did he have to live for? He cupped the door handle. Maybe he would just browse. Take a look. Ask some questions. He applied pressure to the door so it swung open and placed one foot on the ground.

  Then his phone rang.

  Chapter Thirty-three

  “Could he have closed that door any harder?” Patricia grumbled.

  Ryan had slammed the door hard enough to knock it off its hinges. Patricia slipped out of bed and washed up. She dragged herself down the stairs, dreading going into work but knew the twins needed her.

  Anna and Alyssa had had another bad night with Alyssa spiking a fever and Anna having another seizure. She hadn’t gone in because she half-expected Brian to show up.

  On her way home from her counseling session with Pastor Ward the night before, Brian had called her in a rage.

  “I hate Ryan,” Brian said. “How could he hurt Karlie like this? He needs to pay. I’m telling you, I’ll figure out a way to make him regret his actions.”

  “He’s human,” Patricia said. “Your father has made a lot of mistakes, but he loves you.”

  “Well, he has a funny way of showing it,” Brian retorted.

  Patricia heard a huge sigh.

  “I should’ve known you’d defend him,” Brian said. “You’re always on his side. The two of you deserve each other. You know what, Mom? You and Dad—Ryan—can go to France and just leave me alone!”

  The next sound Patricia heard was the click of the end button. Several times, she pressed her car phone to redial Brian’s number. Each time he ignored her call. Frustrated, Patricia banged her hand on the wheel.

  “If this man had just kept his pants on, we wouldn’t be in this mess!” Patricia raged. Her mouth hung open at her words. What was this? Not even an hour ago, she had been in the pastor’s office saying she was over Ryan and Tiffany’s affair.

  Did she have some residual feelings she needed to tackle? No, Patricia shook her head, pulling next to Ryan in the driveway. Frustration and stress were the reasons she spoke without thinking.

  She was furious with herself and Ryan. As she exited the vehicle, Patricia cut her eyes at him, fed up with everything. It took every ounce of strength she possessed to shower and get into bed. Fatigue seeped through her bones, and Patricia fell into a restless sleep.

  She replayed her conversation with Brian over and over again. Plus, her biological response to men who weren’t her husband still bothered her because . . .

  No, she didn’t want to go there. She had come too far to pick up the old man and his deeds. Her flesh was warring within, but with God’s help she could fight this.

  Whatever it was.

  Two more calls from the hospital—one from the nurse and the other from Tim—also interfered with her sleep and added to her stress.

  So when she had awakened earlier to see Ryan’s shaven face, Patricia didn’t know how to explain her reaction. She had laughed, but she wasn’t laughing at him. She had needed and welcomed the release. Unfortunately, she had laughed herself into a headache.

  Patricia rubbed her temples. She would try Brian again. When he hung up from her last night, he had sounded determined. Patricia hated the thought of her son and husband at war. She shivered, glad that Brian had no idea of her role in the deception.

  She pressed the voice dial. “Brian,” she dictated. It rang and rang. He didn’t answer. She dropped the phone on the counter. If he didn’t answer, she was going up to the city to see him.

  It had been a month since Brian had been home. He had called her twice only to let her know he had minor outbreaks. She had her dermatologist fill his prescriptions. Other than that, nothing. Brian’s drive out to Long Island to see Karlie without stopping by was telling.

  Patricia had just put the coffee on to percolate when her cell phone rang.

  “Patricia, you need to come,” Tim said. His gravelly voice lacked his usual cheer.

  Dread lined her stomach. “No, please, don’t say it’s the twins.”

  “Just come.” He ended the call.

  Patricia ripped the percolator plug from the wall and rushed to jam her feet into sneakers. She didn’t know if she would need to do emergency surgery and wanted comfortable footwear.

  The Velasquez parents huddled in the corner of the waiting area, clinging to each other when she arrived. “Doctor!” they shouted in unison.

  Patricia held up a hand to stall them. She couldn’t waste precious minutes to talk with them. “I have to go see the twins, and then I’ll come talk to you,” she said as she breezed by them.

  She saw Tim pacing by the door. “What’s going on?”

  He grasped her shoulders. “They don’t look good. The scans show brain aneurysms.”

  Patricia clenched her fists. “Don’t speak those words as if you’re pronouncing their death. You don’t know for sure. No one does. It’s up to a higher power to decide.” She shoved past him and entered the room.

  Anna’s eyes were open. Patricia checked her pulse and temperature before scanning her chart. She had had two seizures. Patricia clicked her penlight to look into Anna’s eyes. There was a small pupillary reaction.

  “Prep them for surgery,” she said to the full-time nurse on duty. “I’ll go update the parents.”

  Tim stood in the doorway. “Dr. Oakes, I—”


  “Not now,” Patricia interrupted. “Please,” she whispered. “I need to compose myself to speak to the Velasquezes. We’re going into surgery. Now.”

  “That’s not a good idea, and you know it,” Tim said. “They’re not stable and both are too weak for surgery.”

  Patricia left the room. She wasn’t about to listen to his negativity. She entered the waiting room, and the parents rushed over to her.

  “Will you be able to help?” Mr. Velasquez cried.

  “Can you save my babies?” Mrs. Velasquez wailed. She grabbed Patricia’s hand and held it in a death grip.

  They were looking at her as if she were God. She couldn’t swear on an outcome. Her shoulders dropped. The parent in her wanted to say she could, but the doctor in her couldn’t pretend. She couldn’t lie and give them false hope.

  “Dr. Oakes will need to do some more research,” Tim said from somewhere behind her.

  Relief seeped through Patricia’s spine. Tim approached and gently removed Mrs. Velasquez’s hand from hers.

  Mr. Velasquez nodded before begging, “Please, Doctors, do what you can.”

  With a small nod, Patricia turned around leaving Tim to deal with them. She didn’t want the Velasquezes to see the tears threatening to fall. She was too emotionally involved to do the surgery. Her chest heaved. Patricia held herself together only long enough to return to her office.

  She shut the door behind her before sinking to the floor. “Father God, I need you now. I need your assurance I can do this. Please, stabilize them. Stabilize them so I can help them.”

  Covering her face with her hands, Patricia wept through her supplication. Two strong arms encircled her and lifted her to her feet. Inhaling Axe body spray, Patricia melted into Tim’s arms.

  He ran his hands through her hair. She closed her eyes, basking in his strength. How she needed this. To feel secure and safe. Tim whispered words of encouragement in her hair. He pressed a light kiss on her cheek. This was her cue to break contact.

  A feathery kiss landed between her eyelid and nose. Patricia took a deep breath and tilted her chin upward. Ever so slowly, she opened her eyes.

  Tim pierced her with a gaze filled with longing. “Let me help you. You don’t have to go through this alone.”

  His hypnotic words were enough to awaken dormant urges she had suppressed years ago. These sensations scared her. Though Ryan satisfied her, there was always a part of her that was always . . . thirsty . . . hungry . . . insatiable.

  Patricia shook her head. She placed an appropriate distance between them. “I can’t. If I do this, there’s no going back for me.”

  “You want me,” Tim said. “I know it. I’m in love with you.”

  Patricia cleared her throat. “I’m sorry I let things get this far. Please leave.” Her heart pounded as she hoped he would . . . and wouldn’t.

  Tim’s pager buzzed. “We’re not done with this,” he said before rushing to answer the call.

  For the sake of her sanity, she had to be done with Tim. Patricia strode toward her desk to pull out her Rolodex. Most of the numbers in there were also in her cell phone, but not this one. She flipped through the small cards until she located the number she desired.

  Once she did, Patricia used her office phone to place the call.

  “SAA Recovery.”

  Patricia gulped. She hadn’t wanted to make this call, but she had to. Her emotions were spiraling out of control. “I need to see someone.”

  “Okay,” the person on the line said with understanding. “Just wait a moment and I’ll set you up with someone.”

  Patricia tapped her feet while she waited. About a minute later, the operator had given her the names of two women willing to see her that evening. Patricia thanked the clerk and ended the call.

  She pocketed the information in her pants and sauntered into the bathroom to look at herself into the mirror.

  Patricia opened her mouth and said words she hadn’t uttered in almost thirty years: “Hi, my name is Patricia. I’m a brain surgeon, wife, mother, and I’m a recovering sex addict.”

  Chapter Thirty-four

  “Karlie!” Myra screamed.

  With the force of a hurricane, the pint-sized woman snatched Karlie in an embrace so tight, Karlie swayed back and forth.

  “Where have you been?” she chided, swatting Karlie on the bottom. “I can’t believe you didn’t answer our calls. Neil’s been worried sick. That man hasn’t stopped praying. He’s been on his knees day and night.” Myra paused for a breath.

  Karlie smiled at her adoptive mother. She knew from experience she wouldn’t be able to provide an answer because Myra wasn’t done.

  Myra stepped aside. “Come in. I don’t know why you rang the doorbell like you’re a stranger. You have a key. Addie’s going to be so excited to see you. What a great going-back-to-school present.”

  Karlie held onto her purse while she stood in the foyer.

  “Neil!” Myra bellowed. “Addie!”

  Karlie heard the back door slam. Neil must have been in his office. Addie’s feet scampering down the steps told her she had been in her room.

  “Karlie!” Neil exclaimed. He rushed forward and scooped her in his arms. “I’ve been worried sick.” After a tight hug, he released her.

  “That’s an understatement,” Myra chimed in.

  “Karlieeee!” Addie squealed and vaulted into Karlie’s arms.

  Addie had always jumped with abandon because she was sure Karlie would catch her. Karlie wished she had her sister’s faith. She needed to fall into God’s arms like that. With a laugh, Karlie kissed Addie’s cheeks and tickled her until they both fell to the ground. Hearing Addie’s infectious laugh, Karlie realized how much she had missed her family.

  Myra fussed nearby, wiping at a stray tear.

  “I’m sorry,” Karlie said. “I shouldn’t have stayed away so long and have you all worried about me.”

  Myra lowered her eyes. “We’re glad you’re back. We weren’t sure . . .”

  Karlie understood. She scanned all of them. “You’re my family. I just needed some time to process. Ryan’s news hit me hard.”

  “I understand,” Neil said. “But you should’ve come home. I know you texted saying you needed space, but I stopped by your hotel suite. I badgered Brian so much. Where were you?”

  Karlie gulped. “I was with Merle.”

  “Huh?” Myra’s mouth hung open.

  Neil jutted his chin but said nothing. He turned and stormed toward his office. Karlie hesitated for a second before following him.

  “Dad?” she called out before entering his office. “I thought you would’ve told Mom where I was.”

  Neil faced the window. “It looks like rain.”

  Karlie walked over to him and rested her head on his shoulder. “Please don’t be upset with me.”

  “Merle hated your mother. She treated Tiffany like dirt. Tiffany begged her.” He held her shoulders until their eyes met. “Begged. Begged Merle to take you in so you would have a home before she left this world. Merle rejected you and threw Tiffany out of her home. Tiffany cried so hard, I feared for her mental health.”

  “I needed to be around someone who . . .” Karlie didn’t want to sound insensitive.

  “Someone who shared your blood?”

  Guilt-ridden, Karlie nodded. “Yes,” she said. “I’m sorry if that hurts, but I won’t lie about my reasons.”

  Neil gave a small, sad smile. “You wouldn’t be Tiffany’s daughter if you did.” He patted her head. “I understand your reasoning, and I have to respect your wishes as an adult, but I will tell you to be careful. Be careful of Merle because you never know her motives.”

  Karlie looked down. She thought of the car she had recently purchased for Merle and the stainless steel appliances she had bought while at Merle’s. Merle had not asked Karlie to do these things, but Neil’s words of caution made her wonder if Merle was manipulating her. She bit her lip, feeling unsure.

  He lift
ed her chin. “I know we don’t share the same blood, but you’re every bit my daughter. Nothing will change that. Just as how when we accept Christ, we become His heirs, one of His. It’s the same way I feel about you. No pop-up father is going to take my place.”

  Karlie scrunched her lips when she heard “pop-up father,” the perfect segue to another topic she needed to tackle. “I’m going to take the paternity test.”

  Neil nodded. “You should. For your sanity and mine. You need to know who you are, but it’s me you belong to.”

  Karlie reached out to take his hand in hers. There was nothing like knowing someone had your back without question. “No one will take your place. Ever.”

  “I saw your video,” Neil said changing the subject. “It brought tears to my eyes. You don’t need the fanfare and gimmicks, Karlie. You sang from deep in your soul, and it is reaching millions. I’m proud of you. If singing is what you want to do, I’ll support you. I do wish you’d reconsider doing the TV show though.”

  “I know you won’t understand, but I want to do the show. With Brian. Though I was more scared than I’ve ever been in my life, I felt alive. I felt like I was singing my own tune instead of only learning the notes. You know what I mean?”

  Neil touched her cheek. “I do. I’m being overprotective, but I’ve placed you in God’s hands, so I have to trust He’s got you. What about this whole mess with you and Brian?”

  Karlie broke eye contact. She wasn’t comfortable talking about her feelings with Neil. He was her dad, after all. “Brian and I are in a complicated spot. I thought it would be me and Jamaal for life but . . .” She shook her head. “I can’t say anymore because I’m unsure myself.”

  “You know Jamaal called me, right?” Neil asked. He arched an eyebrow. “He’s hoping you’ll give him another chance.”

  Karlie’s nose flared. “Why’s Jamaal calling you? He didn’t call when he was messing—” She clamped her mouth shut. There was no way she would continue this discussion with her dad. “Can we change the subject? Please?”

  Myra poked her head into the room. “I have dinner on the table, and as luck would have it, I’ve made your favorite dessert.”