My Steps Are Ordered

by Michelle Lindo-Rice

  Okay, that was a dead-end conversation, he thought. Keith felt her eyes on him as he looked out the window. “Let’s go back in,” he suggested.

  Gina agreed. He decided to leave his gift in her car for safekeeping, and the two climbed out of the vehicle.

  Gina walked to the rear of the SUV and popped open the trunk. She reached in to snag one of the bottled waters she kept there. “I’d better hit the restroom before going back into Trey’s room. I don’t want him to know I’ve been crying.”

  Keith turned his eyes when the shifting of Gina’s gray pencil skirt exposed a lot of her legs. She had on a button-down, red silk shirt and wore matching pumps. When they stepped into the elevator, Keith heaved a sigh of relief. He had pretended not to notice Gina’s eyes on him in the close proximity of her car. He felt good. He had resisted and defeated the urge to make physical contact.

  Gina turned to Keith and apologized.

  “What are you sorry for?” Keith queried.

  “This.” Gina pressed the STOP button. The elevator squeaked to a stop. She backed him into a corner and grabbed his shirt for balance.

  No, Gina, Keith thought. Don’t do it, Gina.

  Though she wore heels, Gina still had to get on her tiptoes. She moved her hands up to hold Keith’s head. The silky material felt good against his skin.

  No, Keith begged with his eyes.

  Gina closed her eyes and pressed her lips against Keith’s. “I need this right now. I need your strength.” Somehow, the top two buttons of her shirt had come undone, and Keith saw the flimsy undergarment she wore. He growled and deepened the kiss with all the passion he had repressed.

  God help him. He wanted this woman. He loved this woman. He would take whatever he could get. Keith ran his hands through her hair.

  “Oh, yes,” Gina breathed.

  You know this is wrong. Keith heard his conscience. Michael’s face appeared before him. Adamant, Keith closed his eyes tighter and focused on the wonderful sensations flowing through his body. But he was no match for divine intervention.

  Keith’s cell phone vibrated. The two sprung apart. Reason returned. Guilt prevailed. He looked at his phone. “It’s Michael.”

  Gina pressed the button to put the elevator in motion. As she buttoned her shirt, he saw her visible relief at his brother’s call.

  When the elevator stopped on their floor, Keith signaled to Gina to go ahead without him. As soon as she stepped out of the elevator car, he pressed the DOWN button and headed back to the lobby.

  Keith walked out of the hospital and climbed into his brother’s Escalade. He didn’t care about the smooth leather interior or the smooth bass playing in the background, because the minute he entered the car, the stench of alcohol hit him full force. Michael peeled out the parking lot before Keith could buckle himself in.

  “Have you been drinking?” Keith asked, enraged. Without waiting for a reply, he demanded, “Michael, pull over.”

  No more words were exchanged as the two men switched seats.

  Keith gripped the wheel hard. He was so angry with his brother he could strangle him. What would possess Michael to even touch alcohol? And, worse yet, get behind the wheel while intoxicated? The last time he’d been reckless, Michael had almost lost his life.

  “How could you?” Keith bellowed. “Your wife is upstairs, half sick out of her mind with worry, and you are busy getting sloshed. She thinks something happened to you.”

  “Don’t talk to me about my wife,” Michael snarled and twisted his body to look out the window.

  Keith was taken aback by the bitterness in his brother’s voice. He had no idea where such venom was coming from, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. “What about Trey, your son? Remember him?” The music blasted in the background. With gritted teeth, Keith punched the buttons to turn off the device.

  “Ha!” Michael shouted. Then he stewed, saying nothing more.

  Keith could see that Michael was battling with something, but he needed answers. Not sure of where he was going, Keith finally decided to go to his place. It was obvious there was something amiss, and he knew they needed to hash it out without fear of interruption.

  Michael was out of the car and storming up the entry to the house before Keith had even put the gear in park. Sighing, Keith jogged to the other side of the car to close the door Michael had left open in his haste.

  As soon as Keith unlocked the front door, Michael rushed inside. Keith stood on the steps and pondered his brother’s odd behavior. Michael was in a sad condition. Keith activated the car alarm then went inside.

  Inside, he found Michael in the kitchen. By the looks of things, his brother was searching for something to drink. “I have only water,” Keith stated through clenched teeth. He placed the house keys on the table and watched his brother in silence. He didn’t have a drop of alcohol in the house, so he didn’t have to be concerned about Michael finding any.

  Disgusted, Michael curled his lips with disdain. On surprisingly steady feet, he stomped into the living room and dumped his huge frame on the chaise lounge. His long legs hung over. If it weren’t for the dire circumstances, Keith would have ribbed him about it.

  Seated on the couch across from him, Keith observed his brother with controlled patience. Michael appeared to be stone cold sober, despite the huge amount of alcohol he must have consumed. That was a minor consolation, Keith thought. “Look, Michael just spit it out. It does not take a rocket scientist to figure out that something is wrong.”

  “Gina.” Michael said her name like it was something he picked off the bottom of his shoe. “Gina is not who I thought she was.” Michael stopped and shook his head. Then he placed his hand over his head and moaned. His dramatic antics tore away the last shreds of Keith’s patience.

  “Where is all this coming from?” Keith shouted. In two strides, he marched over to his brother and snatched him to his feet. “You’d better start explaining yourself fast, or I won’t be responsible for my actions.” Keith realized he was overacting to the situation, but he could not stomach hearing the disgust in his brother’s tone.

  Even with Keith’s nostrils flaring in his face, Michael remained unaffected. He shrugged out of Keith’s grip and dug his hand into his pocket. Without saying a word, Michael extracted a crushed piece of paper and handed it to him.

  “What is this?” Keith asked while he undid the creases in the paper. He had a strange feeling he was not going to like what was on the paper. Keith read its contents. His brows furrowed with confusion, but within seconds, his eyes bulged with incredulity. Flabbergasted, Keith read and reread the paper to make sure he was seeing right. It was the results of a DNA test. Trey was not his brother’s son.

  “Do you know what this means?” Michael screamed. “Trey is not my son. He is not mine. Gina lied to me! She is a—”

  “Michael!” Keith had to shout to stop his brother from screaming obscenities.

  Michael leaned against the wall before sinking to his knees. With his head in his hands, he rocked and rocked until the tears came. Michael cried and cried. He was overwhelmed by pain, but Keith felt powerless to help him. Keith was too dazed to offer any words of consolation.

  Keith’s cell phone rang in the huge space. He dropped the paper and moved toward the sound. He had placed his phone next to the house keys on the table. He noticed Gina’s face and name pop up on his phone. Keith swiped the REJECT button to let the call go to voice mail. He sent Gina a covert text message saying he’d call her later.

  Fresh out of tears, Michael sat hunkered down with his head in his hands. Defeat was evident all over his body. Keith decided to take charge of the situation.

  “Michael, how conclusive are these results? How can you be certain this is not some crazy mistake? It happens all the time.”

  “Don’t you think I would have demanded another test?” Michael asked with a resigned sigh.

  Keith strode over and picked up the paper. Yes, he’d read it right the first time. He folded
it before putting it in his pocket. This was becoming one crazy, unforgettable night. “But what made you decide to even do a DNA test in the first place?”

  “Well, Gina and I have been trying to conceive for the past few months. So to cover my bases, I decided to get checked out. I’m getting older, and I don’t know . . . I decided to see a urologist. My plan was to find out the quickest way to get Gina pregnant, even if it meant freezing my sperm . . . artificial insemination . . . whatever did the job.” Michael released a heavy sigh. “So I did a semen analysis. I have a low semen count and a semen motility grade of one. You know what that means?”

  Keith could only shake his head. “But you exercise, and you’re healthy . . . I don’t get it.”

  “Yeah, well, that’s the other thing. All that exercise, football, cycling—I don’t even know where to put the blame—may have caused a blockage. But what it boils down to is my chances of having a child are slim to none. I’m useless,” Michael moaned out of self-pity. “I feel like I am not a man.”

  “Nonsense,” Keith said with vehemence. “You’re not the only man in the world that’s . . .” He paused, realizing the subject matter required sensitivity on his part.

  “Go ahead and say it, Keith,” Michael demanded. In one urgent motion, Michael bounced to his feet. “Say it. Infertile. Infertile. I have lazy sperm, and I can’t have children, so Gina has been passing off a bastard kid as mine.”

  “Michael!” Keith yelled. “Don’t you ever call Trey such a degrading name again. Ever. In every way that counts, he is your son. No DNA can change that.”

  “Get off your high horse, Keith,” Michael retorted. “If it were you this happened to, I guarantee you wouldn’t be responding so rationally.”

  “That’s a preposterous remark,” Keith responded. “If Trey were mine, I’d . . . I’d . . .” Keith’s voice trailed off as a thought occurred to him. Keith felt his mouth go dry. He turned his back to his brother. The truth hit his entire being like a ton of bricks. He staggered under its impact. He would have fallen flat on his face if it weren’t for the fact that his brother was a few feet away from him.

  Was Trey his?

  Keith performed quick calculations in his head. There was that second time, two days before her wedding. His mind rejected that thought. But it had been rushed . . . a frantic good-bye. He couldn’t have gotten her pregnant in . . . What was it? Like, five minutes? Could he?

  Of course, he could have.

  He glanced over at Michael, but his brother was too caught up in his own pain to pay him any attention.

  Trey could be his son. No. If he wasn’t Michael’s, then Trey was his son.

  Keith conjured up a mental image of Trey. Now that he knew the truth, he could see so much of himself in Trey. Keith could see himself mirrored in Trey’s attitude, intelligence, and his natural curiosity. It was remarkable how alike they were in terms of personality. His chest filled with pride.

  Keith wanted to blurt out the truth then and there, but he knew he had to speak to Gina first to get confirmation. He considered the ramifications of his claiming his son but dismissed them. He did not care what anybody thought or felt. He was going to claim his son. The problem was, would Trey understand that his uncle was his daddy and that his daddy was his uncle? That gave him pause. Talk about confusing. Keith realized he needed time to think without Michael around.

  “You would what?” Michael asked. “See? You cannot even say anything, because you know you would find a way to make her pay for her deceit. Keith, I love Gina enough to accept her son if she had told me the truth. Why didn’t she come clean?”

  Thinking on the fly, Keith gave a suitable response. “Maybe she doesn’t know, Michael,” he stated with a calm that belied the agony churning on the inside. “Maybe Gina genuinely believes that Trey is your son.”

  “But she knew that she’d been with someone else, and it’s obvious she didn’t use any protection,” Michael said. “She flipped about me and Karen, but all along she was laid up with some other guy.”

  “Even if that was true—”

  “What do you mean, even if that was true? Bro, the proof is on the paper. Trey didn’t come from the stork!”

  “Okay, so it’s true, but you guys don’t live in New York anymore, so she made a clean break.”

  Michael shook his head. “You know what? I don’t know if that’s true. I love Gina, but she isn’t always there with me, you know. It’s weird. Hard to describe. I wouldn’t be surprised if she had some other guy in her head.”

  Recognizing the dire need for a change of subject, Keith said, “Michael, forget about this other guy. The focus is on Trey. He’s your son in every way that counts. Are you going to turn your back on him now, when he could be on his deathbed?”

  Hearing his own remarks ring in his ears, Keith knew that this would not be the right time for Trey to learn the truth. Keith’s mind was in turmoil. He could be jumping the gun. For all intents and purposes, Trey could be someone else’s child.

  And that would be tenable if Trey did not have an uncanny resemblance . . . to him.

  Keith looked at his brother. He knew it would not be long before Michael put two and two together, and when he did, the repercussions would be . . . He didn’t want to think about it.

  It was only a matter of time. Keith’s days were numbered. If he were a man of a different constitution, Keith would be worried. But he was man enough to step forward and shoulder the blame. It was Gina who he was worried about. There was no way she would be able to cope with this now. Her emotions were too fragile.

  No matter how hurt he was, Michael would not inflict any of his anger on his . . . on Trey. He was innocent.

  “Take me to see him,” Michael commanded. “I need to see Trey.”

  “I’m not taking you anywhere. You’re drunk, and you need to sleep it off. You’re of no use to anybody in this state. Tomorrow, when you’re sober, I’ll take you.”

  “You don’t have your car,” his brother pointed out.

  It was a wonder Michael had noticed that, drunk as he was. Keith helped to get him situated in the guest room. “It’s at your house. We’ll stop by your house first, so I can get my car. Then I’ll drive behind you to the hospital. For now, get some rest. You’re going to have a vicious hangover in the morning.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Gina threw herself into Michael’s arms when he appeared in the doorway of Trey’s hospital room the next day. “Thank God, you’re here,” she cried.

  Michael hated Gina’s tears. They served to remind him of those he’d shed the night before.

  He rubbed his temples, having awakened with a vicious headache, which he’d treated by popping two painkillers.

  Michael was still furious at her deceit, but he would not be insensitive and voice his true feelings aloud. Seeing Gina’s deceptively innocent face made it worse. He wanted to hurl insults at her, but Trey was in the room, so he curled his fists and kept his lips closed. Trey was ill. Trey was the one who mattered now. His heart could wait.

  With every ounce of resilience he possessed, Michael patted Gina on the arm. He closed his eyes, trying not to visualize the letter and its contents. This was not the time or place. But he couldn’t be the bigger person. She’d played him for a fool. He slid out of her arms and headed over to his sleeping son.

  I can’t pretend. I can’t move on as if nothing has happened. His life had been turned upside down by that DNA test result.

  He reached over and patted the top of Trey’s head. He recalled all the fun times they had together and all the firsts that Trey had already experienced.

  Shock ran through his system like a thunderbolt.

  Michael realized that deep down he didn’t care about who was responsible for Trey’s existence. He was here. He was his son. His son. His name was on the papers. He had a legal right to Trey. He had been there from his birth, had cut the umbilical cord, patched up his skinned knees . . . He was Trey’s dad. Nothing would chang
e that.

  Unbeknownst to Gina, Michael studied her. He watched her every move with Trey and her display of genuine love and devotion. Michael was so glad that he had heeded Keith’s advice. He would have regretted storming in here and shouting expletives, which would’ve unsettled Trey and gotten him kicked out.

  If he were being reasonable, Michael could not fault her for finding solace in someone else’s arms after the way in which he hurt her. He had cheated on her with Karen. He acknowledged taking advantage of Gina’s goodness and naïveté, which had led to him almost losing her.

  Michael recognized that a part of him had held Gina to a standard of perfection, which wasn’t realistic or possible. He had to reconcile in his mind the fact that she was human and thus predisposed to err.

  Who was he kidding?

  It pained him to think of Gina with someone else. He tried not to picture her finding ecstasy with . . . Ugh. The image was too difficult to conjure.

  Michael redirected his thoughts back to his son. Trey needed him. Michael did not know that it could be possible, considering the new revelation, but he loved Trey even more.

  It was like God had given him something he could not have had on his own. He could not abandon Trey. He was, for all intents and purposes, a gift from God.

  From his chair across the room, Keith watched the conflicting emotions cross Michael’s face. He saw the pain caused by Gina’s indiscretion mingled with the devotion to Trey. Michael didn’t know it, but Keith knew love would win. Gina was a prize, a good woman. His brother wouldn’t let her go. In time, Michael would jump over this hurdle.

  He wasn’t too sure about his own recovery. He was the “other” man and the true biological father. He couldn’t help but stare at the solitary figure lying in the bed. His son.

  Keith was also drawn even more to Gina now, and he had never fathomed that could be even remotely possible. They shared a bond. Their love had brought to fruition a little boy who lay sick and helpless on a bed not even three feet away from him.

  A boy who needed his mom and dad. For Keith, it was torture to remain silent. He did not know how he was able to withhold the truth. He felt his heart tighten. Keith wanted to shout the news from the rooftops. He wanted to claim his son. But this was a terrible, twisted situation in which he had become entangled.