by Twyla Turner
“I will. I wouldn’t miss your art opening, for the world. Now get outta here, before I change my mind, and escape with you.” Sloan loosened his grip on her waist, kissed her once more, and opened the car door for her.
Lexi slid in while Sloan opened the back door to let Tank in. He closed both doors and leaned in, unable to stop himself from kissing her one more time, through the open window.
“I love you.”
“And I love you.”
Lexi put the car in reverse and backed out of the driveway. Melancholy filled her with every inch she drove away from him. And Sloan watched dejectedly, as she pulled away.
When she was finally out of sight, Sloan turned to look up at the house he grew up in. A house that he’d viewed as more of a prison, than a warm and welcoming home. Growing up in a home like Lexi’s, would’ve been a dream come true for him as a kid. Shaking his head sadly, he took a deep breath and started inside. Ready to do battle.
Chapter 12
Chasing Cars
The next day, Sloan sat on the edge of his mother’s bed, feeding her spoonfuls of broth. Even though, he knew that she probably wouldn’t be able to keep it down. He felt more helpless dealing with his mother’s illness than he ever did with his PTSD. Her death was completely out of his hands, no matter how badly he wanted her to live.
The day before, after Lexi had left, he spent the rest of the day and evening with his mother. His father, not surprisingly, missing in action. Sloan assumed that he had probably locked himself away, inside his office, as he had always done in the past, when things didn’t go his way.
Vivian tried to force herself to stay awake, to talk with him as much as she could. She asked him about the Marines, Afghanistan, and Lexi. He told her about the two years since he’d left. Silent tears ran down her face, at the knowledge that her only child had been homeless. Upset that both her and her husband had put their son through unnecessary hell, all because they were stubborn.
He talked to her for hours, but her fatigue would eventually take over, and she’d drift off. When she slept, Sloan would go and hang out with Annie in the kitchen. Helping her cook like the old days, until his mother woke up again.
She was awake again and he was trying to feed her, but she turned her head away when he tried to bring another spoonful of chicken broth up to her mouth.
“No more. I’m not really that hungry, anyway.” Vivian said.
“Alright, Ma.” Sloan conceded.
“I made a decision about something last night, so I have something that I want to give you,” Vivian said and then pointed over to a box on her huge ornate dresser. “Could you bring that over to me?”
Sloan glanced over at the little box, curiously. He got up from the chair he’d pulled to her bedside, grabbed the small box, and brought it back over to his mother. She tried to take the box from his hand but was too weak to even clutch it.
“Open it for me,” Vivian said, weakly.
Sloan opened the box and inside, nestled in satin, was his mother’s wedding ring. It was a beautiful vintage band, with little diamonds set into it. It was stunning in its simplicity, but nothing extravagant. Not like the materialistic woman he had always known, would normally wear. And it was something that he’d always wondered about. She had other flashy rings that she would wear, when they would go out or when she’d spend time with her friends. But the elegant and simple band was something she never took off until it could no longer fit her skinny fingers.
“I never told you this, but your father is more like you than you’ll ever know. He too rebelled against his parents.” She said, to Sloan’s shock.
“You’re kidding me?” Sloan said, doubtfully.
“Nope.” Vivian shook her head slightly, against her pillow. “I mean, where it came to business, he wasn’t that far off from your grandparents’ wishes. They had always made most of their money through the residential real estate of the wealthy, but your father wanted to tap into commercial. Though your grandfather didn’t want any part of it. He thought that your daddy was gonna bankrupt them. So your father went out on his own. He took his savings and bought a hotel. He struggled for quite some time, but he was tenacious. He wanted to make his father proud and come back showing that he was successful. That he could combine the two companies, and turn the family business into something huge.” Vivian smiled, reminiscing about that time in their life.
“He also stood up for me, too. I didn’t come from a wealthy family. My father was an abusive alcoholic, kind of like Lexi’s father. So when I met Nathan, I took the first chance I could, to get out from under my family. I was ashamed of them, and instantly disowned them when I married your father. I stayed by his side, as he struggled with that first hotel. And with the first little bit of money he made, he bought me this ring. So it means the world to me.” Vivian said as she looked down at the ring with glassy eyes. “His hotel, eventually took off and turned into the new playground, of the younger wealthy set. And when the money started to roll in, he took his earnings back to his father, and the rest is history.” She finished, her body relaxed into her pillows, with the weight of their hidden past, off of her shoulders.
“So you mean to tell me, that my father has been riding me all these years when I’m just like him?! And you, were like so many of the girls I brought home. Yet you still chased them away?” Sloan exclaimed, in righteous indignation. “What kind of sense does that make?!”
“I honestly don’t know, sweetie.” Vivian shrugged, weakly. “Maybe he didn’t want you to have to struggle like he did? Maybe, he just simply forgot what it was like to be young, passionate and determined? Who knows what goes through that man’s head.” Vivian smiled fondly, thinking about her husband. “And maybe I forgot what it was like to struggle, or where I had come from. My upbringing is something I try not to recall very often.”
Sloan shook his head, speechless at the revelations he’d just learned.
“Anyway, I adore this ring. Maybe I did get a little uppity, cared too much about material things, and about what people thought of me. But I never stopped loving this ring. It was a symbol of how much your father loved me, and how far we had come. He might be a complete grump, but he’s the love of my life, and we’ve had forty-five wonderful years together. This ring was the beginning for us, and I want it to be the beginning for you, too.” Vivian announced, reaching out to give Sloan’s hand a feeble squeeze.
“Mama, you don’t have to give me your ring.” Sloan protested, feeling overwhelmed with emotions.
“Yes, I do. What am I gonna do? Wear it to the grave? I believe it gave us luck in our marriage, and I’m hoping it’ll do the same for you. And besides, it would make me happy to know that your wife is wearing it. I saw the way you looked at Lexi, and I swear that look transported me back to when I first started dating your daddy, and how he looked at me.” Vivian sighed, wistfully. “Mind you, he still gives me looks that make me weak in the knees. But there’s nothing like those first years, when everything is all fresh and new, like a pretty spring morning. You can’t get enough of each other, and it shows. She’s your forever, and you’re hers. It was obvious, which is probably why your daddy was steaming mad, ‘cause he could see it too.” Vivian grinned at him.
“Thank you, mama,” Sloan said gratefully, looking down at the ring one more time, before closing the box. “Now get some rest. I’m gonna have a bite to eat with Annie, but I’ll be back in a little bit. I’ll be here all night if you need me.” Sloan assured her, as he leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead.
He gently stood up, not wanting to jar his mother as she drifted off to sleep. Sloan’s mind was filled with thoughts of Lexi, and praying that they were lucky enough to make it as long, if not longer than his parents. He walked out of her room and closed the doors quietly behind him. When he turned, he saw his father standing at the other end of the hall, and he stopped in his tracks.
“How is she feeling this evening?” Nathan asked, tightly.
/> “Tired and weak, but happy,” Sloan replied, just as rigid.
His father nodded his head solemnly, turned on his heels, and walked into the other master suite he’d been sleeping in since the other suite had become a temporary hospital room. Sloan wanted to ask him why he’d been so hard on him when it turned out that Sloan was just like him. But he figured it was no use. If the man wanted to talk, he knew where to find him. So taking a deep breath, Sloan made his way to the kitchen, towards the smell of southern fried chicken.
~~~
Sloan wasn’t sure what it was, but something woke him up early. He raised his head off of his mother’s mattress and looked up to see her looking down at him peacefully. The night before, she had fluctuated between burning hot and freezing cold. So Sloan had stayed up most of the night, cooling her down with cold compresses and warming her up by rubbing her hands and feet with his warm hands, and turning on the heated blanket. But now she looked at him with a serene face that scared him half to death. The face of a person that is about to be released from pain, and headed someplace better. He knew because he’d seen it before, during the war.
“Ma?” Sloan said her name in question, worry in his voice.
“Sloan, sweetie. Can you go get your father?” Vivian asked, barely above a whisper.
Sloan swallowed hard and nodded his head, unable to say anything around the knot in his throat. He quickly got up and went in search of his father. He found him a few minutes later, in his office. He rapped on the door once and then walked in without permission. It wasn’t the time to wait to be asked in.
“What Sloan?” His father asked irritated, instantly raising Sloan’s hackles.
“Mother is asking for you. It’s time.” Sloan stated matter-of-factly, and his father jerked his head up from the paperwork he was looking at, taken aback.
“What do you mean ‘it’s time’?” His father said, gritting his teeth.
“Exactly what I meant. She doesn’t have long now. She’s ready.” Sloan ground out, seeing that it was going to be a battle.
“She’s not dying, goddammit! I wish everyone would stop saying that!” Nathan bellowed.
“Well, you can deny it all you want, but it’s happening right now. And she wants you there so she can say goodbye. So you have two choices.” Sloan said angrily, holding up two fingers. “One, you can stay down here, wallowing in denial and self-pity, and miss your chance to say goodbye to your wife, and regret it for the rest of your miserable life. Or two, you can get off your sorry stubborn ass, and say goodbye to your wife before it’s too late, and you hurt her before she leaves this earth. The choice is yours.” Sloan growled, his eyes shining with unshed tears.
“How do you know?” His father asked quietly, sorrowfully.
“I’ve seen it. Many times. They often look peaceful and happy, right before.” Sloan said calmly, seeing his father’s hidden pain.
“Alright.” Nathan nodded his head solemnly, as he stood up from behind his desk.
The two men quietly walked together, side by side, up to the master suite. Both so similar, and Sloan now knew, in more than just appearance alone. They entered the bedroom, and their stomachs dropped simultaneously when they looked at the woman lying in the big bed. Her eyes were closed, and she was completely still. They quickly ran over, to either side of the bed.
“Mama?”
“Viv?”
They both called out at the same time, and then breathed a sigh of relief when her eyes fluttered open, and a weak smile touched her lips.
“My boys.” She breathed, and only had the strength to lift her index fingers, signaling them to take her hands.
Both men sat on the bed, on either side of her, and clutched at her hands firmly.
“Mmm…” Vivian hummed, pleasantly in the back of her throat.
“We’re here, Ma. And you know what? I’m so happy that I got to know you, even if it was at the last minute. And you can leave this earth knowing that I love you and believe that you’re a good woman.” Sloan said sincerely, feeling the wetness of tears on his cheeks.
“I…love you…too. And so…proud…of you.” His mother rasped out.
Both Vivian and Sloan looked over at Nathan. The man that rarely showed any emotions, other than anger and disgust, was on the verge of breaking down. His bottom lip quivered uncontrollably, and his eyes were filled with tears, realizing that he really was about to lose the love of his life.
“Don’t…be…sad, baby. It…doesn’t hurt…anymore. I love…you. And won’t…be mad, if…you find…someone else.” Vivian just barely got out.
“I love you too, baby. There will never be anyone else for me.” Nathan exclaimed, between sobs.
Sloan’s mother used the very last bit of strength she had left to lift up both men’s hands, and placed them on top of each other, over the blanket on her stomach. She then covered their hands with hers. Her breathing became shallow, and she slowly closed her eyes, before saying one last word.
“Promise.”
Her meaning was clear to both of them. Promise, to work things out. Promise, to try to get to know each other, before it’s too late. Promise, to love one another.
Her final breath escaped her lips like a soft sigh. Sloan’s father kept his hand where she had placed it, but leaned forward, resting his forehead against her chest and wept. Sloan looked on, through tears that continually filled up his eyes. And though Sloan couldn’t remember a time that he and his father had ever shown any affection towards each other, he placed his free hand on the back of his father’s head, comfortingly. And his father, feeling the affectionate gesture, started to sob even harder and reached up with his free hand to hold onto Sloan’s.
They stayed that way until the tears subsided, for the time being. A type of reluctant acceptance filled the room. Sloan craved Lexi’s comfort but didn’t want to dampen her important week, so he decided in that moment to tell her later. Besides, as he and his father looked at each other, across his mother’s still body. He knew that they had some work to do that was best done, just between the two of them.
Chapter 13
By Your Side
“Are you sure, I should price them that high?” Lexi asked Dom, about the prices of her artwork.
“Here, let me put it to you this way. You know how the middle class brags about getting the best deals and sales at a store? Mind you, I grew up one of those people.” Dom added, with her hands up.
“Yes, I know,” Lexi answered.
“Well, the wealthy like to brag and compete over who spent the most for something. The higher the price tag, the more prestigious the item. So if you price your paintings, a hundred dollars or less, they’re all going to think that the work is cheap. Now, you price them at a grand or more, ‘more’ being the operative word, then these bad boys are gonna sell like hotcakes.” Dom broke down the logic of the rich.
“Alright. I just wanted to be sure.” Lexi sighed, a little overwhelmed.
“Believe me. Your art is worth it.” Dom assured her, honestly.
“Thanks, Dom. I’m just a little frazzled, trying to get this together and worrying whether Sloan will be here or not.” Lexi said, nervously.
“Oh, I’m sure he’ll be here.” Dom rubbed her back, soothingly.
Lexi hadn’t spoken with Sloan very much over the past week. She had been busy planning the event with Dom. Deciding on the hors d’oeuvres and champagne, choosing how she wanted to stage each painting, naming each piece, with a little blurb about each one. And even doing a few last minute paintings, to go in the exhibit. She was grateful to have Dom, who did a lot of the planning, but as the artist, there was a lot that fell on her as well.
Though she had been crazy busy, it wasn’t like he was sitting by the phone waiting for her, either. She tried to shoot him a text or call in the evenings before bed, but he wasn’t quick to respond, if at all. She tried not to worry that his father had swayed his feelings, and he was no longer interested in her, anymore. She hoped
that his mother was doing alright and assumed she was, because she couldn’t imagine him not telling her. She figured he’d want her there if anything bad happened.
A glass breaking in the kitchen filled with the catering staff, pulled Lexi out of her sad reverie. She took a deep fortifying breath, as she watched Dom charged into the kitchen, ready to murder someone. Once the feisty realtor extraordinaire had left the room, Lexi turned to look at her paintings. She walked over to the beginning of the exhibit and walked around the large open space to each painting, looking at each piece with an objective eye.
The exhibition was called, From the Ashes: Strength through Love. It was her version of the Rise of the Phoenix. The first paintings started out dark and dreary like she had been at the beginning of her journey to self-discovery. The next set of paintings were very conflicted. During the time she painted them, she was trying to figure out what she wanted out of her life, and if she had room for Sloan, in her heart and her future. And the last paintings were happy, displaying her joy in finding that love had so many wonderful sides.
Altogether she had twenty-five eclectic pieces. She wasn’t an artist that could pick a certain style, and stick with it. She always went where her paintbrush took her. So her pieces ended up ranging from realism to abstract, to surreal and from watercolors to acrylic, to oil. And in the end, she priced the pieces in her collection from one grand to five, depending on the size of the piece and level of difficulty.
The last decision she’d had to make, and nearly forgot about during her hectic week, was what she was going to put on her body, for her own event. She had been extremely indecisive, on what look she was going for. She knew that it was going to be a high society event, and wanted to dress the part. But she also didn’t want to bend to anyone’s will, and not be herself.
In the end, she had gone on a last minute shopping trip and found the perfect happy medium. She chose a vintage white lace pants jumpsuit, in her favorite palazzo pants style. It was sleeveless, with a plunging neckline. Underneath the sheer garment, she wore a white camisole and fitted little white shorts. She paired it with a slender gold belt, and her gold strappy heels. She pulled her hair into a large afro puff at the back of her head, put on her classic large gold hoop earrings, and finished the look with a natural golden tint to her makeup. When she looked at herself in the mirror before she had left for the evening, Lexi felt beautiful and comfortable in her own skin.