When he'd left Anya and Sasha this afternoon, he was still on the high from committing his life to the Lord. Even though Elder Watkins had cautioned him against expecting to feel anything, David had felt different immediately. Before they prayed, Elder Watkins told him coming to the Lord meant that he would be forgiven for any sins he had committed—that Jesus Christ had already paid the price. David felt like his shoulders were being freed from the burden he'd carried, and he was eager and grateful to accept God's mercy.
But by the time he returned home, his mind was riddled with images from his past. It was as if the burden had moved from his shoulders into his heart. And his heart was breaking with the secrets that yearned to burst forth.
“No!” he yelled, and slammed his fist against the steering wheel. “I can't go back.”
“Did you say something?”
David opened his eyes, and stared into the curious gaze of the attendant. Without responding, he signed the credit slip, and drove away.
He headed toward the hills, still without a destination in mind. This weight had dropped on him like an oversized boulder blocking his passage to the future. But, he had to get to the other side. There was too much waiting there.
Anya was opening herself to him. And it was easy for him to respond—he long ago opened his heart to her. He was in love, but that love was driving him to the truth. Even if it did come at a high price, he owed it to her no matter what the cost.
At Pico Boulevard, he made an illegal U-turn, causing two cars to hit their brakes hard. David ignored the blaring car horns and insults that were blasted toward him. Instead, he accelerated and headed toward Baldwin Hills.
“Come in,” Anya whispered, and moved aside so that David could tiptoe into the townhouse. With only the wall sconces lighting the downstairs, the living room was engulfed in a soft, golden glow.
“I'm sorry to be stopping by so late.” His low voice matched hers.
“It's not that bad,” Anya stated, glancing at the clock on the mantel. She sat on the couch, and motioned for David to join her. “I told Madear that I asked you to be the baby's godfather, and she's thrilled. Sasha's going to be the godmother.”
A pained smile crossed David's face. “That's nice,” he said, sounding strained.
Anya took a long look at David. He was sitting stiffly, staring straight ahead, with his hands clasped tightly in front of him. His normally suave manner was gone.
“David, you sounded upset when you called.”
It took a few moments before he turned toward her. “It meant a lot when you asked me to be your baby's godfather.”
Anya sighed, relieved. “Is that what this is about? David, I am the one who's honored. We haven't known each other long, but you've stepped perfectly into my life. You're a great friend, I couldn't have asked for a better business associate, and now you'll be part of the family.”
He shook his head slowly. “That's not going to happen.” With his eyes closed, he breathed deeply. “I don't know if this is about what I did in church today or if it's because you asked me to be the baby's godfather, or if it's God dealing with me.” He held his hands in front of his face as if he were praying. “I can't be the godfather.”
“David, what's going on?”
“There are things about me that you don't know. Things, that if they ever came to light, would change my entire life …”
Anya crossed her arms in front of her, covering her stomach. She thought for a moment before she spoke. “Then maybe you shouldn't say anything.”
David stood, moving away from her. “You brought me into your business, into your life. I owe you this.” He breathed deeply again. “I've already told you part of it—about my mother and my father.” When the frown on her face deepened, David's words came faster. “I told you that my father raped my mother, but the part that I didn't tell you—” He choked, and slowly returned to the couch. Anya reached over and touched his arm. “I killed my father.”
Her hand jerked away and she covered her face. The soft ticking of the clock was the only sound in the room. She wanted to tell David that her ears had misled her, making her hear something that wasn't true, but she felt frozen in place.
David lowered his head into his hands. It was the first time he had spoken those words to anyone, though many knew the truth. Now in the silence, he wondered what he'd been thinking. There was much to lose with this admission.
But even the doubts that swirled through his head couldn't stop him from continuing. “It was one of those times when the rage inside my father found its way to my mother. He was beating her, and I begged him to stop. That was when my father looked into my fourteen-year-old eyes, and laughed in my face.” David's eyes glazed as he took himself and Anya back to that time.
“Leave her alone!” David had screamed, as he beat his father on his back. But his father reached around and tossed him off the bed like a piece of paper.
David's head hit the ground, and it took a few seconds for his mother's screams to penetrate through the pain that enveloped his skull. With the pain still thumping, David lifted himself, and ran toward the closet. He knew where it was hidden—he and his friends had found it many years ago. David pulled down the shoebox, and took out the gun.
“Stop it, Daddy! Please, please, stop!” David cried.
His father turned toward him, and laughed. “Oh, you're a big man now.”
He threw David's mother aside, and turned toward David.
As his father moved toward him, David's emotions flared. “I love you, Daddy!” he screamed. “Please, Daddy, please, please!”
Anya closed her eyes, trying to imagine what it was like for the boy.
“My father kept coming, and I was so scared—my mother was screaming, my father was laughing, and when he lurched toward me, I pulled the trigger.” He gasped, trying to catch his breath. “It was only one shot. Just like I'd seen on TV. I only meant to stop him. What were the odds that I would hit him perfectly in his chest?”
“Oh, my God,” Anya whispered, as she recoiled further into the couch's cushions.
“There are two things that I remember clearly about that night. The first is that my mother never stopped screaming. Even as she pried the gun from my hand, her cries shrilled through the apartment.” He paused. “And then … the police. They kept asking me, where did I learn to shoot like that? My father was lying dead, and they were impressed with my skills.”
Long, silent minutes passed before Anya said, “David—”
He held up his hands. “You don't have to say anything. I know everything changes now.”
“It doesn't change anything for me. You were trying to protect your mother. Isn't that what the police decided?”
He shook his head. “They never got a chance. An investigation began, but then my grandmother came from North Carolina and took my mother and me away. My mother lived with my grandmother, and they hid me with a family who were members of my grandmother's church. They had so many children I lost count. I guess that was part of the plan.”
“So what does that mean?” Anya asked confused. “Are they still looking for you?”
“I don't know. I guess they would have to be, although they didn't spend a lot of time or effort searching. Although … they weren't looking for David Montgomery.” He glanced sideways. “My real name is David Collins. My grandmother thought it would be a good idea for me to have another name. She picked my last name from a store we passed in town one day.”
Anya shook her head. She'd always known there was something dark hidden beneath David's confident veneer. But she'd pushed her curiosity and doubts aside. What should she do now? Did this have to make a difference?
Before she could answer the questions that whirled in her mind, David continued. “That was why I was so persistent with … what happened to you. When I found you that night, I felt like it was happening to me again.”
“And that was why you thought they might think of you as a suspect,” she said, remember
ing his concern. “If they looked into your background …”
He nodded. “I had an alibi, but I was afraid that would raise more questions. That night, I'd gone to a therapist to try to settle my mind. But I was so shaken by that session that I couldn't go home. So I drove around for a few hours, and then went back to the office. That's when I found you.”
For the first time in months, Anya allowed herself to remember that night. But all she could think about was how David had saved her. Even now, that was more important than what happened twenty years before.
“Anya, you've become so important to me, I felt you had to know. But I also know that I have to take care of this—there are things I have to face.”
“Are you talking about going back to the police?”
He shook his head. “I don't know.” He squeezed his hands together. “All I know is that it would be crazy for any Black man in America to turn himself in to the police. I don't know what I'm going to do. I think I'll go to North Carolina, and talk to my grandmother before I do anything.” David made a sound halfway between a chuckle and a moan. “All these years that I've lived with this—I don't know why it had to come out today.”
“David, this doesn't change anything for me. I still think you would make a wonderful godfather.”
He took her hands, and for the first time that night, Anya saw the dimple that she loved so much. But there was sadness in his smile that scared her.
“I want you to hold that position for me. And while you're at it, do you think you could hold my job open too?”
“You're leaving now?” She couldn't hide the panic in her voice. He was her lifeline in so many ways.
“I haven't decided anything yet, but, I'll let you know.”
She nodded and tried to fight back tears and emotions that surprised her. He helped her stand from the couch, and they held each other for several moments, before she followed him to the door. She opened her mouth, but before she could speak, he kissed his forefinger and placed it on her lips. “There is no need for us to say good-bye.”
She nodded and bit her trembling lip. Then she watched him walk out her door.
Chapter 55
It had been a while since Braxton had stood on the balcony outside his bedroom. The city lights didn't seem to glow as brightly as he remembered. Even the decorative lights that had been put up early for the holidays did little to improve his spirits.
Braxton rubbed his hands along his arms, trying to warm himself against the chill of the November night. A few minutes later, he stepped inside, closing the French doors behind him.
He wasn't looking forward to the holidays. A year ago, he was making plans for a long life with Anya. Now he was sitting in this darkened house alone, just as he'd been doing for months.
“A year ago?” he said aloud.
He walked quickly to his office and turned on the lights. At his desk, he looked at the calendar—November 13. He was sure this was the date.
He opened the file drawer, pushing aside folders until he found the papers he was looking for. He scanned the mortgage agreement. There it was—November 13. A year ago, he had bought this house.
As he tipped the folder to return it to its place, a picture slipped out. Slowly, he picked it up. The realtor had taken this picture of him and Anya. He held a bottle of champagne, while Anya held the deed high above her head. They were standing with their cheeks pressed together and Braxton remembered that, in that moment, he had never been happier.
He returned the file to its place but kept the photo out. Where had it all gone wrong? There was really no reason that he and Anya should have broken up. He should have been able to convince her not to have that baby.
But he hadn't, and according Carlos's updates, the baby would be arriving any day. Anya had moved on, while he was acting like a sad character in a blues song, still trying to figure out how his love had gone wrong.
Carlos had told him that he would never be able to move forward until he made his past right.
The Rolodex on his desk caught his eye. Carlos was wrong. All he needed to do was get out more, make friends, meet new women. But as he scrolled through the cards, there was no one who he wanted to call.
It had taken him months to get here, to realize that he was truly alone. His decision had left him with no one to call, or visit or no one who even cared. Just like when he was a child.
He wasn't going to live this way anymore. He scrolled through the cards again and picked one: Desiree. He read the notes—met at a booksigning, no kids, legal secretary… he liked that part. A business that wouldn't put him second. He took in the other notes he'd made, then glanced at the clock. It was really too late for that first call tonight. But tomorrow, he'd call her first thing. Yes, tomorrow would be his new start.
Chapter 56
Anya stood, and tried to stretch, but the pain came sharper than before. “Argh!” she yelled.
No more than five seconds passed before Sasha was standing at her door. “Is it time?”
Anya tried to smile through the sharp jabs in her back. “I was stretching and I think I made things worse.”
“What are you doing up anyway? I thought you were going to rest.”
“I tried, but I thought it would be a good idea for me to pack. Dr. Moore told me to do that a couple of days ago.”
“I can do that for you.” Sasha plopped on the bed.
“No, I need something to do.” She stopped in front of the mirrored closet and turned sideways, stretching her shirt over her rounded stomach.
“I feel so fat and ugly,” Anya whined, turning away from her reflection.
“Honey, you are not hardly ugly.” Sasha laughed. “Hey, Madear called a little while ago. Wanted to know if it was time.”
“I feel like an amoeba being studied under a microscope.”
“Anya, amoebas are tiny things.”
“Okay, enough of the fat jokes.” She reached into the back of her closet and felt something on top of the suitcase. “What's this?” It took her a moment to recognize the blue garment, and a low moan escaped from her throat.
“What's that?” Sasha asked.
Anya sat next to Sasha. “This is Braxton's robe. He must've left it here … when he was staying.” She lifted the bathrobe to her nose, closed her eyes and inhaled the faintness of the slight scent that remained.
“Oh, sweetie.” Sasha rubbed Anya's back. “You really do miss him.”
Anya nodded. “I've been trying to be so strong, but I guess somewhere inside, I thought Braxton would come back, because I thought God wanted us together.”
“Well, there are many things that God wants, but He still gives us free will and most of us mess up.”
Anya sniffed back tears that hadn't fallen. “When did you get so smart about God?”
Sasha shrugged, but smiled widely.
Anya placed the robe in the chair. “I'll mail this back to Braxton.”
“Why don't you lay down?” Anya shook her head, and Sasha said, “It'll be better for me if you do.”
Anya laughed, as Sasha pulled back the comforter, then helped Anya into the bed. Sasha lay next to her and rubbed her stomach.
“You know what,” Sasha said. “You haven't said a word about the baby's name.”
Anya sighed. “A part of me thought that I should wait, just in case Braxton—”
“Oh, sweetie…” Then Sasha jumped up. “Well, we've got to do something. I'm not going to call my cousin Baby for the rest of its life.”
Anya tried to laugh, but nothing would come through the thoughts that had suddenly invaded her mind.
“I have an idea.” Sasha reached for Anya's Bible. “I was reading something that was so beautiful. But now…” She turned the pages. “How am I going to find it?”
“Maybe I can help.”
“Ssshhh.”
It took her a few minutes, but Sasha suddenly let out a shriek. “Here it is!” She turned to Anya. “Listen to this. Weeping may endure for a ni
ght, but joy cometh in the morning. Isn't that beautiful?” Sasha gushed. “Wouldn't that make a great name?”
“You want to name my child ‘Morning’?”
Sasha laughed, but then frowned when Anya squeezed her eyes together. “What's wrong?”
“I think we're going to have to discuss this on the way to the hospital.”
“Oh, my God! Is this it? Finally! The baby is going to come! Oh, my.”
“Sasha!” Anya giggled. “Could you help me up? We better get out of here.”
Anya grasped the bed handle and moaned.
“Breathe, baby,” Madear said softly as she wiped Anya's forehead. “Remember all of those breathing exercises?”
Anya slowly turned toward her grandmother's voice. If she says that to me one more time, Anya thought before squeezing her eyes shut.
“Hey, sis, wanna hear a joke?”
She turned to the other side of the bed. With her eyes barely opened, she could see Donovan bending over the railing. His wide grin couldn't hide the concern on his face and that almost made Anya smile. From their childhood, Donovan had never allowed the fact that she was older to get in the way of protecting her, shielding her from every pain. Anya was sure he was trying to figure out a way to even transfer the pain of childbirth from her to him.
“I'm sure I've heard all of your sorry jokes,” she squeaked, running her tongue against her dry lips.
“You're going to love this one. His mother is so stupid, it took her two hours to watch 60 Minutes”
“Ohhhhh!” Anya groaned, and tried to lift herself from the bed.
“It wasn't that bad.” Donovan chuckled.
“Madear, please tell the doctor that I need something.”
“But, sweetie, you wanted to do this naturally—”
“I want drugs!” Anya hollered in a bass that would have made Barry White proud.
A smiling nurse came into the room. “I heard you,” she said cheerfully to Anya. “Let me just check the monitor and do a quick examination and I'll get the doctor.”
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