IF I WERE YOUR WOMAN

by LaConnie Taylor-Jones

  Ray went on and told Laney everything Dr. DiMaggio had explained to him about the orchiectomy, the procedure to remove his cancerous left testicle. “And you sure they can do this on an outpatient basis?”

  Laney nodded. “Yes. Usually you’re admitted early in the morning and if everything goes well, you’ll be released later that day. I plan to be with you.”

  “No!”

  “Raphael—”

  “Red, I said no, so drop it.” Ray shouted back. A second later, he was halfway across the room.

  Laney called out softly from behind, her voice strained as she fought against the tears. “You need to know something.”

  Ray halted, but didn’t turn around.

  “The cancer doesn’t change anything for me.”

  “Don’t say that,” Ray muttered. Maybe it didn’t matter to her, but it did to him. If he thought the odds were the least bit in his favor that he’d be the same after surgery and treatment as he was now, he’d reconsider his position. Suddenly, frustration hit him hard and fast. He was defenseless to a disease he had no control over, aggravated he couldn’t do a doggone thing about, and filled with rage because it now forced him to walk away for the one and only woman who mattered to him. “I-I can’t put you through this.”

  “I’m willing to risk it.”

  The strong, quiet, admission sobered him, but it wasn’t enough. “I’m not.”

  Ray squared his shoulders and walked out the room.

  ~ ~ ~

  The moment Laney opened the door and saw her grandfather, Charles O’Reilly, she knew he was worried. Her bogus smile wobbled, then disappeared altogether. She walked into his arms and placed her head on his chest.

  Charles rocked her gently back and forth. “Raphael will be just fine, sweetheart,” he said in a soft, gentle tone.

  Laney raised her head and smiled in earnest this time. “I know. I only wish Raphael could believe that, too.”

  “I spoke to Zamora right before you walked in.”

  “Is everything okay?”

  Charles nodded, noting the worried expression in her green eyes. “Don’t take anything Raphael said personally. According to Zamora, Raphael is having a tough time dealing with all of this. He won’t even talk with her, and you know how close the two of them are.”

  “I’m not surprised, Poppy. Raphael is a private man, sometimes too private. He has a hard time letting others get close to him.”

  Charles placed a kiss at Laney’s temple and hugged her closer. “So what are you going to do?”

  Laney shrugged. “There’s really nothing I can do at this point.”

  “When you were growing up, what was the one thing I always reminded you of?”

  “The fervent prayer of a righteous man availed much.”

  Charles offered a smile filled with wisdom. “Well, I don’t see where the situation with Raphael is any different.”

  ~ ~ ~

  “How ya feeling, son?” Mama Z stood at the threshold of the bedroom door and posed her question.

  With his eyes closed, Ray lay in the middle of his bed with his hands tucked under his head. It was Christmas Eve. Since the day he’d undergone surgery, he’d spent most of his time in this very spot, staring at the ceiling. This was complete bull and all jacked up. Okay, so he hadn’t been a saint when it came to women. He’d be the first to admit that he’d danced in and out of their beds for his own selfish pleasure, but was cancer his atonement?

  Ray opened his eyes and turned his head sideways to focus at the door and released a sarcastic chuckle. “Other than being tore up from the floor up, I’m great.”

  Mama Z walked in and sat on the side of the bed. “Boy, I raised ya from twelve, and I knows just as good when ya bothered by somethin’. Now what is it?”

  Ray blew out a hard breath. “Why me, Mama Z?” he shouted, angrily and sat upright. “Why did I have to get cancer?”

  She grabbed both his hands and tugged until he looked at her. “Son, only God knows the answer to that question.”

  “Mama Z, I ain’t feeling God right about now.”

  “Now ya listen to me, boy, and I wants ya to listen to me good. Ya got some difficult days ahead of ya. Now ain’t the time to be running from God. If anything, ya outta be running to Him. Understand me?”

  Ray ran both hands down his face. “Things were just starting to roll for me. Know what I mean?” Before he knew it, he blurted out, “I had even gotten together with Red…”

  “Son, that child ain’t going no where.” Mama Z reached up and stroked the side of his face. “It ain’t the cancer that’s got ya troubled. It’s Laney, ain’t it?”

  Ray reminded silent.

  Mama Z offered a warm smile. “That’s a strong woman ya got, son. That child don’ for ya what everyone else in this family been doing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Pray.”

  “Oh, so you heard Red praying from half way around the globe?” Ray asked sharply.

  “Naw, I heard her right in Oakland,” Mama Z pointed out.

  “You mean Red didn’t go to Stockholm?”

  Smiling, Mama Z shook her head sideways.

  Stunned, Ray stared at his grandmother slack jawed. After ten long years of grueling research, Laney missed a once in a lifetime opportunity to be recognized for it. Her unquestioning belief in her faith and her sacrifice on his behalf seeped down to the marrow in his bones. What was more alarming was that this petite creature had a knack of touching nerves he never knew existed.

  “Son, when ya gonna call her?”

  “I can’t,” Ray whispered in a hoarse tone.

  Mama Z lifted her brow. “Ya can’t or ya won’t?”

  “Where’s Red at now?”

  Mama Z shrugged. “Since ya wouldn’t talk to her or see her, guess she got tired and went on back home.”

  “But—”

  “Uh-uh,” Mama Z interrupted and held up a silencing hand. “I don’ told all of y’all, I don’t get in grown folks business. Ya needs to be talkin’ to Laney, not me.”

  “I know,” Ray whispered and squeezed his grandmother’s hand. He’d hesitated to speak with anyone about his illness, including his family and close circle of associates. “Maybe when this is over—” He stopped because he didn’t want to make a promise, especially to his grandmother that he might not be able to keep.

  Mama Z smiled. “Son, been on this journey a long time. Every now and then, God sends folks into our lives when we needs ‘em the most. Laney is ya godsend.”

  “How you get to be so smart, old lady?”

  “’Cause I don’ been where ya tryin’ to get to.” Mama Z stood. “Want ya to remember somethin’ for me.”

  Ray stared, confused. “What’s that Mama Z?”

  “The will of God will never take ya where the grace of God won’t protect ya.”

  ~ ~ ~

  “What the hell do you mean my medical records were breeched?” The next morning, Ray sat at the white baby grand piano in the recording studio at his estate. His voice escalated with each word. “I checked in under an assumed name. How did this happen? Talk to me, mon frère.”

  Alex sat next to Ray and held up his hand. “Listen partner, I said your records might have been breeched. The hospital administrator called me this morning with the news, and he’s already launched a full investigation.” He placed a hand on Ray’s shoulder. “Listen, buddy, this could be nothing more than a false alarm, but as the person in charge of your security detail, I don’t want to take any chances.”

  Ray slammed both fists against the piano keys. This was exactly what he’d feared. Although he’d taken every precaution necessary to protect his identity, if some nosey employee put two and two together, the nature of his illness could be exposed. It was bad enough to deal with cancer, but he didn’t need the added stress of his diagnosis leaking to the media.

  For a celebrity, publicity was one thing, but this type of news? It was a killer. Image was everything in the
music industry. If the paparazzi ever got wind of his illness, they’d circle him like a pack of vultures over a week-old carcass. Before he could blink, the news would be splattered on the front page of every ragtime tabloid in the country. How was he supposed to announce to the world he had cancer when he hadn’t come to terms with it himself?

  Ray knew Alex was on top of the situation. The top-notch private investigator had provided the security detailed for Les Croisés from day one. The man who was as close to him as his two blood brothers could get to the bottom of things when others failed.

  Suddenly, panic raced through Ray faster than a category five hurricane making landfall. Although he hated when his privacy was invaded by the media, he’d learn over the years to stay a step ahead of them. “You got extra security in place, right?”

  Alex nodded. “Calm down, partner. You’re covered on that front. Right now, my concern is for you.”

  “Mon frère, if the media ever finds out—”

  “Don’t worry, they won’t,” Alex said with confidence. “The best shot we’ve got at keeping this on the DL until things are resolved is to get you out of Dodge for a little while.”

  Frustrated, Ray threw his hands in the air. “Mon frère, I start chemo in a week. I can’t skip out on that.”

  “I’m two steps ahead of you, buddy. I spoke with Charles last night. He’s got a place you can hang out for while. As for your chemo, one of the best team of oncologists will be at your disposal.”

  “Where’s this place at?”

  “About an hour outside of Memphis.”

  “Memphis,” Ray repeated with indignation. He’d never considered staying any place south of the Mason-Dixon Line, not even on a temporary basis. He’d only visited the Bluff City once and was thoroughly unimpressed. Everyone he’d met talked with a drawl and moved as slow as cold molasses on a winter day. What sane man would want to live there?

  “I don’t know about this one, mon frère.” Ray frowned. “Charles’s crib…is it private?”

  “Very.”

  Ray lifted his brow, unconvinced. “How much is very?”

  “Hard for the media to find private. Shall I proceed?

  Too weary to care anymore, Ray nodded. “Go for it.”

  “There’s just more minor detail you need to know.”

  “Talk to me.”

  “Charles doesn’t actually own the property.”

  “Well, who does?”

  “Laney.”

  “Oh, shit.” Ray stood and paced in a tight circle. “Deals off.”

  “Listen, Ray—”

  “Ice it, mon frère. We need to come up with plan B.”

  “I know I just threw a lot on your plate, but right now your options are limited, if you want to keep things under wraps.”

  Ray looked grim. He knew Alex was right, but it didn’t mean he liked it. No matter how careful he was, if he stayed and underwent chemo in California, someone could very well spot him. Daaayuuum.

  “How you holding up?” Alex asked with concern.

  Ray offered a flinty smile. “After what you just threw down? I’m here, mon frère. That’s about all I can tell you. I’m here.”

  “You’ve been locked up in this house too long, “Alex chided. “Why don’t you come over to Marcel’s tonight?”

  “What’s going on?”

  “You remember T. J. Benford, don’t you?”

  “Yeah. He was on the same line with you and Marcel when you pledged Alpha. So, what’s going on tonight?”

  “Every year our line gets together for Christmas. This year it’s Marcel’s turn to be the host. It’ll do you good to chill out for a while. Maybe shoot some pool.”

  “Let me think about.”

  “I’ll pick you up at eight.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Laney stared at her desk. It was disgustingly clear. The goal she’d set out to accomplish ten years ago had been achieved. She could do one of two things. Stay at work for the rest of the day and hope in vain that Raphael would come or leave and prepare for his arrival.

  She wasn’t desperate, but determined. During the days since she’d returned to Memphis, Raphael Baptiste had imbedded himself so deeply into her daily routine that her life seemed empty without him. While she’d been with him, she’d felt more alive than she’d ever felt before. This wasn’t lust, but love. She’d finally fallen in love with a man. Not just any man, but Raphael Baptiste. With Raphael, she wasn’t Dr. Laney Houston, world renowned scientist. She was Red, his woman. It was both amazing and electrifying.

  Weakness was one word she’d tossed out of her vocabulary years ago. Steeping out on nothing but faith, she pushed back from her desk and stood. She refused to give in to the fact that Raphael wouldn’t accept her offer to recuperate at her home. She didn’t know how it would happen. What she was confident of was that it would.

  Smiling with confidence, she grabbed her purse and keys and headed toward the door.

  ~ ~ ~

  “Man, tell me you lying!” Ray shouted and nearly toppled off the barstool. He sat at the bar with T. J. Benford in the family room at his brother Marcel’s estate.

  “Brother if I’m lying, God strike me dead,” T. J. said, lifting a Coke can to his lips. “I was diagnosed with testicular cancer five years ago.”

  “Did you have any symptoms?”

  T. J. nodded. “Umm-hmm. And like most men, I ignored them. You know how it is, a brother thinks he’s macho and will never get sick. Then when something goes down, he hopes against hope that the mind is playing tricks on him when all the while, the body is giving the tattle-tell warnings that somethin’ ain’t right.” He shook his head and chuckled. “It’s funny how a man will let every woman in the world who’s willing feel up on him, but when it comes to doing self-examinations, he gets shaky. Know what I’m saying?”

  “Listen, T. J.” Ray leaned forward with his hands clasped between his legs. “I need you to keep this conversation between us on the DL—”

  “You see this?” T. J. pointed to his tabbed collar. “As an ordained minister, I hold whatever you or anyone else tells me in the strictest of confidence.”

  “Merci.”

  “I know where you’re at right now because I’ve been there. And trust me, I’m not gonna hit the door and put your business in the streets. You have my word. Besides, my frat brothers would kill me.” He chuckled. “Ain’t ready to go see my Maker…just yet.”

  “When I first met you, you were a straight-up player, man.”

  T. J. nodded in agreement. “Got a Ph.D. in it. And before the cancer, added a couple of post doctorates to the field of study, too.”

  “B-but you came full circle.”

  “Brother, I had to. It’s like I tell folks I counsel who say, ‘but pastor you don’t understand.’ Oh, yes I do. I come out the gate telling tell ‘em that I bring ‘em greetings from the whore house to the church house. If I can change, anybody ought to be able to get their stuff straight.”

  “Man, what slowed your roll?”

  “Ray, when a life-altering situation knocks at your door, it’ll make you re-examine a lot of stuff you’re doing. Mine just so happened to be cancer. If you don’t remember nothin’ else I tell you, remember this. You can’t hide from the disease. You’ve got to make up in your mind you’re gonna fight it with everything you’ve got.” T. J.’s voice mellowed. “Cancer was the wake-up call I needed. It changed my life for the better.”

  “H-how did you get through it?”

  “Three things,” T. J. explained and bent his fingers back as he named them. “God, my family, and a good woman. Those three got me through some dark moments.” He paused. “You got a lady?”

  Ray smiled sadly and stared off into the distance. Oh, he had one, but when she tried to reach out to help him, he panicked and bolted. In the last two weeks, the only person he’d thought about was Laney.

  T. J. cleared his throat lightly to get Ray’s attention. “I’m not sure if your silence is a yes
or no, but let me tell you this. If there’s someone special in your life, don’t shut her out. Trust me my brother, there will be days that you’ll need a strong woman to catch your back.”

  “What about…you know…sex?”

  T. J. bobbed his head. “Aaah, wondered when that topic would hit the discussion circuit. It wasn’t until I was diagnosed with cancer that I finally understood the difference between making love and having sex.”

  Confused, Ray shook his head. “I’m not following you.”

  “Men think sex.” T. J. tapped the side of his head. “We got it on the brain. I discovered there were other ways to please a woman besides the physical act itself.”

  “And she was satisfied?”

  “Who?” T. J. grinned. “She called my name. But guess what? Satisfaction is what you make of it. Don’t get caught up in the physical side of things. There’s more to a relationship than sex.”

  “When did you meet your lady?”

  “Hmmm…about a year before I was diagnosed. Man, talk about pretty. Brother, she blew me away. She was different than the other women I’d messed around with, and I didn’t want to rush things. Then, bam,” T. J. exclaimed, slapping both hands together. “Head off to the doctor because the pain was unbearable and three days later, learn I’ve got cancer.” He paused. “You know when they rolled me into surgery I wasn’t worried about my life. The only thing on my mind was whether I’d ever be able to have sex again.”

  “And…”

  “The necessary part was overhauled, fined-tuned, and didn’t impact the stick, which by the way, still shifts.”

  Both men burst into laughter.

  “No, seriously, in between chemo rounds, we were able to participate in a little spectator sport.” T. J. winked. ”If you know what I mean.”

  Ray stared, stunned, his jaw slacked. “You actually had sex during chemo?”

  “No, brother, I made love. Don’t get the two twisted.”

  “My bad.”

  “Listen, Ray,” T. J. said sincerely, “you will make it through this. And when you get back on your feet, I want you to fly down to Memphis and join me for worship service. Maybe I can talk you into accompanying my choir on a song or two.”