by Janice Sims
“Let’s hope he has the decency to confess after he learns the prosecutor has this journal.”
“I hope so, too,” Carla said. “I pray for that. I’m hoping he’ll confess and save the taxpayers a trial, and save poor Madison from having to sit in court and relate all the things he did to her. She shouldn’t have to go through that.”
“My feelings exactly,” Detective Diaz said, getting to his feet.
Carla rose and shook his hand. “Good luck, Detective. And if by chance you speak with Yolanda Reynolds, tell her for me that all the support in the world isn’t going to change her cousin into a decent man. I saw what she did, trying to use her fame to curry favor for him. News travels fast over the internet. If he’d gotten the help he needed earlier in life, maybe I wouldn’t have inadvertently married a molester, and my children wouldn’t have to be going through this now!” She smiled sadly. “I know his family isn’t to blame for what he is. People like him hide in plain sight. But I’m mad right now, and I want to blame somebody. I’ll get over it eventually.”
“Under the circumstances,” Detective Diaz said, “you’re coping surprisingly well.”
* * *
On Saturday night guests began spilling into the ballroom at a luxury hotel in Raleigh. Desiree, along with Lauren, Mina and Meghan, was there to greet them. All pretense of a surprise party had been thrown out the window. Their mother, Virginia, had long since snooped out their plans. She and their dad, Alphonse, both resplendent in evening clothes, stood beside them and greeted the guests.
Alphonse, a tall, medium-brown-skinned, dignified retired army general, was, thanks to adhering to a slightly modified military workout schedule, in good shape. He bent his bald head and kissed the cheek of the upturned face of his petite wife, Virginia, the most beautiful girl in the world, Desiree had heard him say more times than she could count over the years. Virginia stood five feet two inches, and was trim from never being able to sit still for long. She had golden-brown skin, a trait all of her daughters had inherited, along with her abundance of coal-black hair, which now had silver streaks in it.
“Don’t you think all of the guests have arrived by now?” she whispered to Desiree, who was standing next to her. “My feet are killing me in these pointy-toed torture devices better known as new shoes.”
Desiree smiled. “Sure, Mama, you and Daddy can go sit down, or get on the dance floor. Somebody’s got to get this party started.”
“We’ll leave that up to you children,” her dad said, and took his bride by the hand and escorted her to their table.
Desiree surveyed the room. Over a hundred people were here, milling about chatting with each other, partaking of the appetizers offered up by the waitstaff (supper was to be served later) and frequenting the bars on opposite ends of the ballroom. The disc jockey had set up his equipment and speakers on the stage in the center of the room, and in front of the stage was the dance floor. Surrounding the stage and dance floor were tables, which she noticed some of the guests were already staking claim to.
“Excuse me, sis,” Meghan whispered in her ear. “But I think your date has arrived.”
Desiree looked up and saw Decker entering the ballroom. She sighed. The man was the epitome of style in his tuxedo. He saw her, raised an eyebrow in that cocky way he had and smiled, showing strong white teeth and dimples in his square-chinned face.
“You’re drooling,” Meghan joked, and playfully shoved her in Decker’s direction.
Desiree didn’t need further prodding. She hurried over to her man and hugged him. She hadn’t seen him in more than twenty-four hours. Twenty-four hours during which she couldn’t touch him. God, how she’d missed him. When his strong arms went around her now, she sighed and wondered how she’d ever lived without him.
When they parted, Decker said, “Hey, baby, you look stunning.”
He took a step back, admiring her in the clinging red sheath dress with shirred sides. The bodice displayed just enough cleavage not to be scandalous, and the hem fell three inches above her knees. Desiree had worn her favorite pair of black Louboutin pumps. The red of the dress and the red soles of the shoes were a perfect match.
“Lady in red,” Decker intoned as he pulled her into his arms again and, this time, kissed her lips briefly. When he raised his head, he said, “I’ve got good news. Detective Diaz told me his trip to Terre Haute was fruitful. Sawyer’s wife provided some very compelling evidence that might prove his downfall. That’s all I can tell you. I hope you understand.”
Desiree was gazing at him with an expression of awe. “You’re my hero.”
He grinned. “That’s all I ever wanted to be. Let’s dance.”
Aretha Franklin’s “I Never Loved a Man (the Way I Love You)” was filling the ballroom with her soulful, gutsy voice.
Desiree sang along with the Queen of Soul as Decker pulled her into his arms. “You’re a no-good heartbreaker. You’re a liar, and you’re a cheat.”
Decker bent and rubbed his cheek against hers. “Damn, you’re sexy when you’re singing. Nice voice, too. Will you sing to me later?”
Desiree grinned up at him. “Now, Decker, you know I’m not going to have the breath to waste on singing.”
Pressed together like this, she could feel him growing erect right there on the dance floor. “I’m sorry,” she teased. “Did I say something provocative?”
“God, I love you,” Decker said, and held her closer.
Desiree laid her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. “I missed you so much.”
“It’s only been twenty-four hours,” Decker said softly.
“Twenty-four very long hours,” she cooed.
* * *
Across the ballroom, sitting at a table with her date, Andre Hanks, Meghan scanned the room for Leo. She had personally invited him, telling him to bring a date. She smiled at Andre, a football coach at a local college. She and Andre had gone to college together and had dated off and on, but she had never been able to entirely trust him. He’d been a popular athlete in college and a chick magnet. Now they were each other’s plus one at functions they didn’t want to attend alone. There was an understanding between them: no sex. Andre was interested, but Meghan knew she couldn’t trust him. Besides, he knew, and she knew, that he wasn’t ready for a serious relationship. He was twenty-eight and far from being tired of sowing his wild oats.
Meghan had to admit, though, that Andre was prime man candy. If anyone could make Leo jealous, Andre would. Six-five, with muscles for days and a face so pretty that women literally tripped over themselves trying to get a closer look. Meghan had already spotted several women eyeing him this evening.
At last, her patience was rewarded, and Leonidas Wolfe (no wonder he insisted everyone call him Leo) strode into the ballroom with an attractive sister on his arm. Meghan sighed. She’d been hoping he wouldn’t bring a date, but no matter. She was going to set her plan into action anyway.
She rose and reached back for Andre’s hand. “Come on, I want to introduce you to someone.”
Andre rose to his impressive height and rolled his powerful shoulders. Meghan pulled him across the room until they were standing in front of Leo and his date.
Meghan was pleased to see Leo’s date’s mouth fall open slightly as she perused the magnificent specimen that was Andre.
“Hi, Leo,” Meghan said with enthusiasm. “I’m so glad you could come. This is my date, Andre Hanks. Andre, this is Leo Wolfe. His brother, Jake, is married to my sister Mina.”
“Oh, yeah,” Andre said. “The other twin.” He vigorously pumped Leo’s hand. Leo worked the kinks out of it after Andre let go of him.
“Hello, Andre, nice grip,” he joked. Then he turned to his date. “Meghan Gaines, this is Shari Dunbar. Shari teaches English literature at Duke. Shari, this is my friend Meghan.”
“Oh, yes,” said Shari with a smile. Meghan guessed Shari was in her midthirties. She was of average height and had dark brown curly hair, which she wore in an upswept style for the evening. Meghan admired the clean lines of her off-white A-line dress. It suited her trim figure. She was prepared to like her until Shari continued speaking. “The history instructor who looks more like a student than an instructor. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Meghan.”
Shari’s description of her rankled (was that how Leo saw her?), but Meghan forced a smile and said, “Welcome, Shari. I hope you enjoy yourself this evening. Excuse me, won’t you? I think my sister’s trying to get my attention.”
Actually Desiree was beckoning her from across the ballroom. Meghan supposed it was time to take the stage, say a few words of welcome to the guests and bring out the surprise the sisters had in store for their parents.
She once again grabbed Andre by the hand and dragged him across the ballroom.
* * *
Secreted away in an alcove in the lobby of the hotel where the anniversary party was taking place, Petra sat on an overstuffed chair and grimaced down at her cell phone. She’d just received another text from Chance Youngblood.
Where R U?
Y do U want 2 know?
Must talk 2 U face 2 face.
I’ll B back in NY in 2 wks.
I can’t wait that long.
U have 2.
Y did you run away?
Because I didn’t want 2 face U, isn’t that obvious?
Just tell me where U R.
Frustrated with his incessant questions, she decided to tell him exactly where she was. What good would the information do him? He was in New York City. She wasn’t staying at this hotel. She was only going to be here for a couple of hours.
When she was finished she texted, R U satisfied?
Not yet, but soon.
That last text puzzled her, but she didn’t have time to reflect on it because Desiree was phoning her. She answered, “It’s time?”
“Yes, come to the ballroom. When you hear the song, come inside.”
Chapter 10
“Welcome, everyone, to the thirty-fifth anniversary celebration of our parents’ wedding,” Lauren said with a warm smile directed at the guests standing in front of her and her sisters, who were on the raised stage. “I’m the eldest, Lauren. Every year we try to surprise our parents, but every year we fail because our mother is the nosiest woman in the tri-state area, and nothing gets past her!”
Waves of good-natured laughter swept through the ballroom.
Desiree stepped up to the microphone. “So this year we decided to do something different. Mom and Dad, come on up here.”
The guests applauded, encouraging Alphonse and Virginia to join their daughters onstage. Once they were onstage, Virginia quipped, “Oh, goodie, it’s time for presents.” She looked at her daughters expectantly. The girls held out their empty hands, denoting there were no gifts forthcoming.
“Darn,” said Virginia.
It was Mina’s turn to speak. “Mom, Dad, you both have learned to live with loved ones’ absences over the years. Dad, as an army general, you spent many years stationed abroad. Most of the time, Mom, you went with him, but later, you chose to stay in the States and raise us by yourself. Then, when I joined the army, you had to put up with my being away for months at a time. In recent years we’ve had to celebrate holidays without Petra, who’s been in Africa for three years.”
“That’s my little Tarzan,” Alphonse said with a smile. Desiree thought his eyes looked glassy at the mention of his daughter, whom he hadn’t seen since Lauren’s wedding two years ago.
The guests laughed at his comment, and Desiree felt compelled to explain their father’s nickname for Petra. “You see,” she said, “when Petra was a little girl she loved to read the Edgar Rice Burroughs’s Tarzan adventures. Aside from the blatant racism she found in the pages, which she complained about, she loved the stories about animals, especially how the apes were depicted. This led to an interest in zoology. Today, our Petra is a zoologist studying the great apes in Central Africa.”
Mina picked up the narrative. “Petra couldn’t be here today, Mama and Daddy, but we thought we’d play a song to remind you of her.”
Hearing his cue, the disc jockey began playing “The Lion Sleeps Tonight.” The song started with the very recognizable South African harmonies and then the words “In the jungle, the mighty jungle...”
At that point, Petra strode into the room, decked out in a beautiful black and gold African-print caftan, head-wrap and gold high-heeled sandals, dramatically declaring, “Mama and Daddy, did you know this song was written by the great South African Zulu musician Solomon Popoli Linda? It was a hit in South Africa long before various other musicians all over the world started covering it!”
Their mother screamed, “Petra, my baby girl!”
“I thought I was your baby girl,” Meghan joked.
Desiree laughed. She had never seen her parents move so fast before. They were off the stage in no time hugging Petra, who was hugging them back and grinning widely.
The guests erupted in raucous laughter and applause.
Desiree gave the rest of her sisters hugs, in turn. “We got her!” she crowed. “It was a knockout. Virginia Gaines is down for the count.”
* * *
Later, at supper, Desiree counted her blessings. It had been a long time since all of her sisters were at a family function together. She looked at everyone sitting at tables that had been shoved together to accommodate everyone.
Her parents were seated side by side, looking extremely pleased, and next to them were her grandpa Benjamin and her stepgrandma Mabel. Decker sat beside her, and his parents, June and Tad, were on his left, along with his aunt Veronica, Colton’s mother. Then there was Lauren with Colton, Mina with Jake, and Jake’s brother, Leo, with his date (whom she didn’t know), Meghan and her date, Andre (she wondered how Meghan was taking the fact that Leo was dating someone) and Petra, who seemed perfectly fine with being dateless tonight.
“Okay, you got me,” their mom suddenly announced. “Next year you won’t be so lucky, I assure you.”
“Mom,” Mina said with a smile. “This time next year you’re going to be a grandmother twice over.”
Virginia shot up out of her chair and ran and threw her arms around Mina’s neck. “The surprises never end.”
Desiree and the girls joined their mother and took turns hugging Mina. “She even got us!” Desiree cried joyfully.
The men offered Jake congratulatory handshakes and pats on the back. Jake and Mina were all smiles after the congratulations as they stood with their arms around each other’s waists. “We just found out last week,” Jake said, looking lovingly into his bride’s eyes. “We couldn’t be happier.”
“You know, I would be a tiny bit happier if it were twins,” Virginia said hopefully. “Twins do run in your family.”
“That’s a possibility,” Jake said, grinning. “But I’d be perfectly happy with a little girl who looks just like Mina.”
“Let’s not rule out having another boy,” Benjamin put in. “The girls outnumber the boys in this family something fierce!”
To which everybody laughed.
“Grandpa,” Mina said, “I’ll see what I can do.”
* * *
After supper, couples got up and danced. Petra was left at the table with Veronica Riley, Lauren’s mother-in-law, whom she’d met at Lauren and Colton’s wedding. She knew that Veronica was a widow who had recently reentered the dating life. Petra admired her style. She had dark brown hair with honey-blond streaks in it, and the short cut nicely framed her pretty face. In a matter of minutes, she had Petra laughing out loud at some of her experiences with men.
“At my age,�
� Veronica, who was in her early sixties, said, “you’ve got to date men who’re younger than you are. Men my age don’t have the energy to date. I went out with this gentleman barely in his seventies after being introduced to him by my pastor. He wanted to go to dinner at five o’clock because he went to bed at eight. Plus, he no longer drove at night because of night vision problems, poor thing, so we couldn’t plan anything after nightfall. We ended up going to a matinee, after which we hit the buffet at the Golden Corral, where he complained about the exorbitant prices, so I paid for my share. Then, after he brought me back home, he wanted to come in for a drink or coffee, but I looked up at the sky and said, “Oh, my, I think it’s going to be sundown soon. You’d better hurry home before you can no longer see how to get there.”
Petra laughed until she cried. “Did you ever see him again?”
Veronica smirked. “Of course not,” she said. “I conveniently lost his contact information. Honestly, Petra, I don’t believe I’m ever going to meet a man who can set my heart aflutter like my Frank did. But I’m a social person, and I’m not ready to sit at home. I’ve met a couple of interesting prospects, both about ten years my junior, but I’m a bit reluctant about letting myself get serious about either of them. They’re nice to date because they can keep up with me, but the idea of marriage to a younger man doesn’t appeal to me.”
“Why?” Petra asked. “You would be a great catch for any man lucky enough to get you. I don’t understand why women don’t marry younger men more often than they do.”
“I don’t know,” Veronica began. “I think it has to do with life experiences. Frank and I had a lot in common. We grew up in the same era. We could talk about anything. Sometimes I’ll comment on a certain topic, and the younger guy just looks at me blankly. He has no idea what I’m talking about. It’s exhausting having to explain things time and time again.”
Petra reached up to tuck some of her hair behind an ear and noticed she’d lost one of her gold hoop earrings. She’d bought them in Ghana from an artisan who had fashioned them from twenty-four-karat gold especially for her. Because they were the only souvenirs she’d brought back with her from her first trip to Africa, they were of sentimental value. Plus, she wasn’t exactly a fashionista like Desiree, whose closet was packed with beautiful clothes and whose jewelry case was a veritable gold mine. She packed light and didn’t own a great deal of jewelry.