by Curtis Bunn
“Well,” Rhonda decided, “I’m going to finish my walk. I’m clearly interrupting. But come over to my house when you’re finished here, Olivia. But don’t be too late. Lorenzo, good to see you again.”
And then she left. Her stomach was unsettled, but she was hopeful that Lorenzo would reject Olivia’s inevitable advances. But why would he invite her over in the first place?
Rhonda’s walk back to her empty house was wrought with guilt and doubt and questions. She figured quickly that Eric lied about talking to Olivia, in effect fooling her into admitting she had not spent the night with her as she had told him. But the potential for him to get confirmation of his thoughts remained, and Rhonda was in full damage control mode.
Over the forty-five minutes between when she got home and when Olivia finally rang her doorbell, she struggled with what to tell her girlfriend. The full-blown truth was too much, she decided. Telling her about Eric leaving would open the avenue to many questions. Not telling her, though, would leave open the possibility of Eric giving her the news, which surely would be a problem for her relationship with Olivia.
First, though, she needed to hear more about what had happened with Lorenzo. Rhonda tried to remain casual as she sought to pry information out of her friend.
“Girl, that was a trip,” Olivia said as she walked in.
“How did it go?”
“It went good. I wasn’t gonna have sex with him or anything like that. I talk a good game. I just wanted to see how he would handle the situation. And he handled it probably too well.”
“What’s that mean?”
“I think he might be gay.”
“That man is not gay, Olivia. How can you say that?”
“Easy. There are obvious tendencies that I saw, with number one being he turned me down.”
Rhonda was relieved: “I thought you weren’t going to have sex with him?”
“I wasn’t, but I was seeing where his head was.”
“Well, him rejecting you doesn’t mean he’s gay, Olivia. That’s how bad rumors get started. Maybe he has a girlfriend or maybe he thinks it’s too soon.”
“See, that’s what I’m talking about, not about me being irresistible. I’m talking about a full-fledged man would have been down for whatever, whether he has a girlfriend or not. That’s what men do. No real man I know would turn down a chance for sex the way I offered it.”
“Damn, what did you do? Throw your pussy on the table?”
The women laughed. Rhonda laughed harder because Lorenzo did not give in to Olivia.
“Yeah, whatever. What I did was I talked to him—directly. I said, ‘Look, we’re adults. I don’t have anyone and you just said you’re single. So, maybe we should fill in the gaps for each other.’
“He was like, ‘Olivia, you know I like you. That’s why you’re here. But when sex is involved, all kinds of feelings start coming into play. If we go there, let’s at least try to prevent drama in the long term. If you get to know me, you might not even want to get with me.’
“Now what man talks like that? If anything, a man wouldn’t say anything. He would have led me to the bedroom. Now, I wasn’t going to sleep with him—I don’t think. But I did want to see where his head was.”
“So now you know.”
“I do. But what did you want to talk about? What’s your drama?”
“Who said anything about drama?”
“You did in your message.”
“Oh, I did, didn’t I? Well, come on in here and take a seat. I think you’ll find all this very interesting.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
DADDY ISSUES
STEPHANIE
The fact that she could feel sexually aroused while she was so scared about her sister and frustrated about her father told her all she needed to know about her life.
A man who was interested in her and displayed his interest meant more than she realized. Charles showing up at the hospital was not only thoughtful and caring, but a turn-on. She had told Willie that a man who showed his affection by his actions was a man women appreciated.
Charles resonated with Stephanie. She, however, knew that a divorce was a step not to be taken lightly. Above all, she had a daughter who loved her parents and surely would react emphatically to a divorce.
She thought: Where is the line between my happiness and making other people happy? And she did not have an answer.
Before she could get too enthralled in that question, her father and Terry emerged from the elevators.
“You left her alone?” Stephanie asked. There was almost terror in her voice.
“It’s okay. She’s okay,” Terry said.
“I don’t want her to be alone. Ever,” Stephanie snapped. “And I hope you were talking to her and not just sitting there sleeping.”
“We came down to stretch our legs,” her father said.
“Stretch your legs. I’m going to be with Toya.”
Immediately, she headed for the elevators, without looking back. When she got to outside Toya’s room, she took a deep breath. Then she went in.
Her sister lay there lifeless, as if she were asleep, save for the connections to her head and mouth and the machines humming ominous sounds.
Stephanie stood over her at her bedside and surveyed Toya’s body. The image made her sad. But in her heart she believed she could hear her, so she pulled up the chair closer to the bed, clutched her right hand through the bed railings and talked.
“Nick is here. I know you want me to call him ‘Dad,’ but I’m still struggling with it. He met Charles. Don’t get all upset; he doesn’t know about us. Charles came over because he was concerned about me, said he knew I needed a hug. He was right, Toya. Willie went home and I was all alone in the visiting area downstairs, worried.
“When he came, it brightened up my outlook, my world, really. Isn’t that how it should be? You always talked about how Terry was made for you and always felt like he was with you, not against you. I think the way you put it was, ‘He’s the captain of my team.’ I liked that. But to be honest, I was a little jealous, too.
“Willie hadn’t made me feel like he’s even on my team. Forget about being the captain. I’m not sure where it went south. That’s what bothers me. I know it was gradual, like gaining weight. But also like gaining weight, one day you look in the mirror and realize, ‘Damn. I’m fat.’
“That’s how this has been with Willie. I realized one day that I’m not happy, that I often feel alone in the marriage. When people lose weight, the goal shouldn’t be to lose weight because you can always find it again. The goal has to be to get rid of it. In my marriage, I have to get rid of feeling empty and alone. Charles has been that source to this point, but I know it’s wrong. I know it’s wrong. But I’m learning about myself after all this time.
“Toya, I need to feel loved. Not by everybody. But you and Willie, I need to feel that. Even as we argue about what I’m doing, I know it’s because you love me. With Willie, the arguments happen because he’s disconnected from me and doesn’t want to believe it, so he doesn’t want to hear about it. And the business is his first love. That’s what he really cares about, not me.”
Stephanie took her other hand and placed on top of hers and Toya’s. “I’ve used Charles to give me some of the feelings that I need to have. Even before we had slept together, communicating with him through texts and e-mail felt good. Someone was interested in me. That meant a lot to me.
“I know you’re stronger than me and more pragmatic than me. I’m more emotional and my actions are tied to what I’m feeling. I have been seeing Charles because I needed it. I still do. Look at tonight. Willie doesn’t see how I would need him here right now and goes home. And Charles who is visiting, who doesn’t even live in the Bay, comes over in the middle of the night to give me a hug. See the difference?
“But I’m willing to make a deal with you. I will let Charles go if you wake up and be all right. How’s that? You don’t have to wake up now. Get you
r rest. But when you’re ready, open your eyes, talk to me. And then we can go take that trip to Vegas we’ve been talking about for six months. Just me and you. No husbands.”
Stephanie sat back in the chair, took a deep breath. She wondered to herself if God was punishing her by putting Toya’s life in jeopardy. That scared her and made her pray.
Father God, I need my sister to be all right. That’s all I’m asking. Please do not punish Toya for my bad deeds. She has tried to guide me away from sin. She has been faithful to You. She deserves to live. She deserves to be healthy. Please, God, bring her out of this and make her whole. I have faith that you will.
When she opened her eyes, her father was standing in the doorway.
“What sins you’ve been committing?” he asked.
“You’re like in a soap opera, eavesdropping. I can’t even pray in solitude?”
“That’s not answering the question.”
“You should take it as an answer because that’s all you get. Why are you up here anyway?”
“I came to say I’m leaving and will be back soon.”
“What’s ‘soon’?”
“I’m not sure. Probably tomorrow. But I need you to keep me abreast of what the doctors say about her condition.”
“Why can’t you be here to find out for yourself?”
“I can’t be here every minute. I don’t know how you can, either.”
“Because that’s the sacrifice you make for someone you love. I shouldn’t have to tell you that.”
“Don’t get cute with me, girl. I raised this woman right here as if she were my own. So don’t tell me about sacrifices.”
“Yeah, and you sacrificed the family for your own good, too.”
Nick fumed.
“Step outside this room.”
Stephanie knew she was out of bounds, but she also believed she had the truth on her side.
“What?”
“I haven’t seen you in several months and that’s all right. You call me Nick instead of Dad, and I accepted that. But don’t think you can disrespect me to my face and get away with it.”
His voice rose and nurses at the station could hear the grumblings. “You don’t know what the hell happened in my marriage.”
“I know you got a divorce because you cheated. And then you acted like it was no big deal.”
“No big deal? My life was turned upside down. All our lives were. Because you didn’t see me looking shattered doesn’t mean I wasn’t shattered. I was. I am. Still. Until you go through that—disappointing the woman you love, destroying your family—you can’t sit in judgment of me.”
Stephanie lowered her head. She had judged her father all those years, never talking to him about why he cheated or his feelings after the breakup.
“And if you don’t want to feel what I feel,” he added, lowering his voice, “you’d better tell that guy Charles to go someplace.”
Stephanie raised her head and tried to act indignant. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m old, Steph. My vision gets worse every year. But I ain’t senile and I ain’t blind. That man kissed you on the top of your head with passion, not empathy. So if you’re doing something, stop. If you’re thinking about doing something, stop. That momentary pleasure you think you want won’t be worth it—unless you want to be divorced.”
“You think I would have an affair on Willie?”
“We’ve always said you’re more like me than your mother.”
She was hurt because the truth often hurts.
“I’m not even dignifying that,” Stephanie said. “If I’m like you in that way, I suppress it. My marriage is fine.”
“I’ve said what I had to say about it. The rest is up to you.”
He hugged his daughter, who did not hug him back, and left.
Stephanie returned to the room and told Toya: “I guess he told me, huh?”
The various emotions clashed against her brain and sensibilities, and she broke into tears. Her hands over her face, she wept a good cry, one that cleared her sinuses and her contact lenses. It also cleared her mind: She was resolute about being content in her life, not discontent or bored.
That notion became profound in the middle of her crying spell. The prevailing emotion was her fear and sadness about her sister, whose future was as uncertain as a butterfly’s flight path. The delicacy of Toya’s life was a resounding notice to Stephanie of how precarious life was, how short it can be.
How can I exist in a stale marriage when I believe in living a vibrant life?
Her answer was that she couldn’t. Charles was a stopgap, a filler, a case study of what it could be like to be with a man who moved her. Above all, he was married, so their affair had to end at some point. He had told her he was not leaving his wife. So, what they had was temporary, and she had no control over how long it lasted.
Worse, she began to think about his wife and her decisions: What if she found out? Is it treason against women to serve as a mistress to someone’s husband? How could she be so selfish as to disregard the morals instilled in her by her mother?
She heard the words that her mom often uttered when Stephanie and Toya were kids growing up: Do what you know is right.
It was a simplistic, but profound statement when taken in its full context. You know what to do. You’ve been taught and schooled and lectured on what is right. So do it.
Falling back on that basic principle taught by her mother moved Stephanie to a firm decision on Charles: It was over. She didn’t like not having control over that situation, anyway. At the hotel in Sausalito, before she got word about Toya, she had a moment of anxiety. Stephanie enjoyed Charles so much that she was becoming dependent on his attention and passion. She felt vulnerable, knowing that she would be crushed if he decided to end their affair when she was not ready.
Charles did not give her any indication that he wanted it to end, but knowing he could hurt her caused discomfort. But it was not enough for her to pull away. However, combined with her guilt and the idea of honoring her mother’s words, Stephanie found the strength not only to extricate herself from cheating, but also to work on her marriage.
She leaned close to Toya’s ear. “Remember when Momma used to say, ‘Do what you know is right’? She used to say that so much, I guess because we were always doing something we shouldn’t have been. Or when we went over to a friend’s house or to a party, she’d tell us the same thing: ‘Do what you know is right.’
“For my own selfish reasons, I have ignored that standard. Not anymore. Like you told me, I know better. So I’m ending it with Charles. I—”
“Ending what with who?” came the voice behind Stephanie.
She turned around to see her husband, Willie. Her heart dropped. She almost lost her breath. She hoped she was dreaming. She was not.
“We need to talk,” he said, motioning with his finger for her to leave the room.
“I, uh, I don’t want to leave Toya alone.”
“Toya is fine. And Terry just got here, so he’s coming up now. Come on.”
The look on his face frightened Stephanie. Willie turned and went into the hallway. A few seconds later, Terry entered the room.
“How’s it going?” Terry asked.
“It’s. . . you know. Status quo,” Stephanie said.
“Well, go get some rest. I’m here for the rest of the night. It’s almost three in the morning. Get some rest and come back when you feel like it and then I’ll get some rest.”
“Okay,” Stephanie said, “but are you talking to her?”
“Talking her head off.”
She smiled, hugged Terry and entered the hallway, where nothing good was waiting on her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
YOU ARE NOT ALONE
JUANITA
They hung at the party for another hour or so, chatting with friends and enjoying the music. But there was a cloud over both of them. Juanita wondered if Maurice had an idea about her affair with Brandon and s
he was suspicious of if he knew Gloria.
Maurice got the feeling that Brandon and Juanita’s relationship was more current than they led on—and was concerned if Brandon knew he and Gloria had their thing on the side.
Neither could hide their swirling emotions and thoughts on the ride home. There was silence. Not even the radio played. They were so consumed in their secrets that they didn’t even notice.
At home, in the bathroom, Juanita texted Brandon.
Hey, please text me back. Does he know you gave me a massage? Did he question you? Tell me everything I need to know.
In the closet, Maurice frantically texted Gloria. Gloria, are you OK? Did she question you about us knowing each other before tonight? Does your friend know about us? Give me all details.
Neither of them was comfortable in their own thoughts. They acted guilty. After a quick shower, Maurice took his phone with him. “I’m going to check on the kids.” Juanita was glad he left. “Okay.”
That time apart gave them a chance to check their text messages.
Brandon’s to Juanita read: I don’t know. He asked me my job and I told him. Does he know you came to me? Because you’re my girl, I will tell you that I think Gloria knows him. I saw him standing outside her house the day I met her.
Gloria’s to Maurice read: Brandon is a massage therapist. He said wife could vouch for his work. Then tried to backtrack and act like it was a long time ago. Not sure if he knows about us, but he’s curious, asking questions. I’m telling him nothing.
Neither Juanita nor Maurice knew how to respond to the messages. He went back to their bedroom and finished undressing. He took his cell phone to the bathroom with him.
Juanita erased the string of text messages and got into bed. It was nearly three in the morning, but she was not sleepy. She was scared. Her squeaky-clean reputation—and her marriage—hung in the balance of how Maurice took the information he had. And now she wondered about her husband’s activities, too. Maurice, in the shower, placed both his hands on the wall and let the water pour on him as he tried to figure out a reason why he would act as if he did not know Gloria, if asked by Juanita.