Love and Hope

by Kayla Perrin

  I’m crying right now. The very idea of going through with this, of cutting off our relationship, is tearing me apart. And yet, I must.

  I know you’ll understand. And for that reason I know that you won’t challenge this. Please, sweetheart, respect my wishes. You need to stay away from me, because I’m not sure if I have the willpower to resist you.

  If circumstances change, if your marriage truly does end, then I’ll be here. Or perhaps we must wait until the children are older and you’ll feel safe and secure that they’ll be happy. I’ll wait for you. Because I do love you. More than anything.

  Your dearest love, Stella

  Tasia reread the letter, only to confirm that her eyes had not been playing tricks on her. Her mother had been involved with a married man. A man who—from what she could glean from this letter—had been in an unhappy marriage. But married nonetheless.

  Why on earth would her mother have had an affair with a married man? Especially after she’d suffered the ugly effects of a cheating husband.

  Tasia sat for several minutes, her mind whirring. Men often lied about the status of their relationships in order to lure women into their beds. Had Jarvis done that?

  All these years, she’d believed that her mother had lived a lonely life of sacrifice for her kids, hung up on a man who hadn’t been worthy of her. This new reality was hard to grasp, let alone deal with.

  Did she even know her mother at all?

  Chapter 12

  When the doorbell rang later that evening, it roused Tasia from her daze. She’d had a few glasses of wine as she’d tried to process what she’d learned, but the wine hadn’t helped. Instead, she was in a definite funk.

  She should have texted Malcolm to tell him not to bother to come over, but thoughts of him had fled her mind as she’d tried to process the bombshell revealed in her mother’s letter.

  The doorbell rang a second time before Tasia reached the door. Malcolm’s smile faded when he took one look at her face. “What’s wrong?” he asked without preamble.

  Tasia shook her head, her eyes filling with tears. “Everything.”

  “What?”

  The weight of her mother’s secret was too heavy for her to bear, and Tasia fell forward into Malcolm’s arms. She buried her face in his chest and exhaled a sob.

  “Hey,” he said gently, holding her close. “What happened? Something with your brother? The TV show?”

  “Worse.”

  Malcolm cupped her face in his big hands and eased back so that she had to look at him. “What do you mean worse?”

  “I need to get out of here,” Tasia said. “I just … I can’t be in this house right now.”

  “All right,” he said. “You want to head to South Beach? You mentioned wanting to check out some of the restaurants.”

  Checking out the South Beach dining scene was the last thing on Tasia’s mind, but she would go anywhere right now. “Okay.”

  “You have me worried,” he said.

  She looked up at him and offered him a shaky smile. She was grateful for his presence. “It’s not life or death. But … it’s a shock. At least to me it is. And I’m trying to process it.”

  “Okay. You’ll tell me about it later?”

  Tasia nodded. “Give me a minute to change.”

  “I’ll be in the car.”

  Malcolm’s very appearance had her feeling more calm. His constant presence in her life since she’d been in Miami was a definite comfort to her. More than comfort, actually. When had she begun to rely on him?

  Tasia went into her bedroom, where she threw off the jeans and T-shirt she’d been wearing all day and slipped on a yellow wraparound blouse, something she’d bought the week before because the color had been her mother’s favorite. She then put on a flowing white skirt that fell past her knees. Satisfied with her appearance, she grabbed the letter and stuffed it in her purse. She wanted Malcolm to read it, give his thoughts about this revelation.

  Normally, she would have called Raven with news like this, but this time she wanted to share her burden with Malcolm first. She wasn’t ready to examine why too closely. Maybe it just made sense. After all, he had gotten to know her mom while he’d worked for her, so he might be able to shed some light on her mother’s letter.

  *

  Malcolm did the talking en route to South Beach, telling her about a renovation that wasn’t going as smoothly as he’d hoped. Tasia was glad that he hadn’t pressed her to tell him what was bothering her. It allowed her a reprieve from the horrible shock, at least for a while.

  “What do you feel like eating?” Malcolm asked once they were over the 395 Bridge onto South Beach.

  “Italian,” Tasia answered immediately. “Whenever I’m stressed, I turn to Italian food. It always makes me feel better.”

  “That’s right. Pizza with pineapples and anchovies.”

  She glanced at him and smiled. “Perhaps I’ll be a little adventurous tonight.”

  “There’s a great Italian place I like here. Bella Ristorante on Collins Avenue.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Malcolm pulled up to the restaurant, exited the car and handed his keys to the valet. Then he went around to the passenger side and opened the door for Tasia. He placed his hand on the small of her back as they walked into the restaurant. “Maybe we can take a walk on Ocean Drive afterward,” he said. “See the beach.”

  “I’d love that,” Tasia told him. She’d always found the beach soothing and she definitely needed that tonight.

  Pretty fairy lights adorned the left and right sides of the shrub-lined path leading to the front doors. A stone fountain at the end of the path boasted a cherub holding a bow and arrow and standing on tippy-toe on top of a globe. Water bubbled out of his mouth and into the giant bowl below. Tasia and Malcolm walked around the fountain and through the restaurant’s doors.

  Inside, several dozen blown-glass lighting fixtures hung from the dark wood ceiling. Each one was unique, but Tasia loved how they looked collectively—like a multi-colored constellation in a night sky.

  As they were led into the dining room, Tasia eyes widened in pleasure. The back and side walls had large, intermittent floor to ceiling windows that offered diners a view of the bustling night-life in South Beach as well as a more tranquil view of the restaurant’s own private courtyard. Constructed of rustic, Mediterranean-style stones, and surrounded by Italianate landscaping, the courtyard offered a peaceful environment for dining.

  This must be a wonderful place to work, Tasia thought taking in the positive vibe from the staff moving around the restaurant as though performing a choreographed dance. She loved that feeling. Being in the zone. She felt that every time she was at work.

  Malcolm and Tasia were seated at a table near the window. Both the dining room and the courtyard contained rows of small tables draped in pristine white cloths, each with a small, delicate, blown-glass candle lantern in its center. The place was almost completely filled, with couples.

  While Malcolm ordered a bottle of wine, Tasia gazed out at Collins Avenue. The streets were lined with people in shorts, t-shirts, and other summer attire. A few deeply tanned men walked by wearing no tops at all. Obviously locals.

  “I’ll have the Spaghettini alle Vongole, Tasia told the waiter after they’d spent a few minutes perusing the menu.

  “And I’ll go with the Fettuccine alla Romana,” Malcolm said. When the waiter walked away, he asked, “No pizza tonight?”

  “This place is inspiring me to try something else,” Tasia told him. Then she reached for the wine bottle and poured herself a second glass. She promptly took a liberal sip.

  Leaning back in her chair, she glanced around the restaurant at the smiling men and women, some holding hands across the table. Beyond Malcolm’s shoulder about fifteen feet away sat an elderly couple. They had to be in their seventies. The man gazed lovingly at the woman before reaching his hand across the table and tucking a strand of the woman’s loose hair behind her ear. A
nd suddenly, Tasia was thinking about her mother’s letter again. She hated what her mother had done, no doubt about it. But she also wondered if she owed it to the cheating Jarvis Baxter to let him know that her mother had passed.

  Dinner was delicious, although she would have used a bit more basil in the clam sauce. Tasia tried to stay in the moment, but no matter how much she tried to focus on Malcolm during dinner, her mind kept floating back to her mom and Jarvis Baxter. She was only twelve years old, at the time, but had there been any signs? Could she have blocked it out? She sighed … it was a long time ago.

  “And that’s when I got on the shark’s back and rode him all the way to shore like a surf board.”

  “Mmm hmm,” Tasia said absently.

  “And you haven’t heard a word I’ve said.”

  His words registered, and Tasia looked into Malcolm’s eyes. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

  “Don’t worry about it.” Malcolm folded his arms on the table. “All through dinner, you’ve been here physically, but not mentally. Are you going to tell me what’s bothering you?”

  “I will … But not here.” Not quite ready to deal with the heavy subject, Tasia picked up the dessert menu that the server had left on the table, and began to peruse it.

  “Mmm … I haven’t had tiramisu in a while. Do you want anything?”

  As if on command, the waiter reappeared at the tail end of her comment. “Tiramisu. That’s a great choice. We make our own fresh mascarpone in-house. What about you, sir?”

  “I’ll just have an espresso,” Malcolm said.

  “I’ll have a cappuccino with the tiramisu,” Tasia told the waiter. She’d had enough wine, and now it was time to counteract the alcohol with a strong coffee.

  “By the way,” Tasia began, “I packed up some plate sets. Let me know if Michelle needs anything.”

  “Will do.”

  The waiter arrived with the dessert and coffees. Tasia tasted the tiramisu and sighed heavily. She offered Malcolm a bite, bringing the fork to his lips. A dab of cream landed on the side of his mouth and without thinking, she reached out and wiped it away with her fingers.

  Malcolm captured her hand in his, and their eyes met. Then, holding her gaze, he licked the cream from her finger.

  An electric jolt zapped her body, and a delicious heat swirled through her.

  “You are far too sexy,” she said, the words falling from her lips of their own volition. Lord, what had gotten into her?

  He chuckled softly. “Is that so?”

  She looked down at her dessert. “It’s not hard to tell why my mother liked you so much.”

  Her mother … Why on earth had she mentioned her mother at a moment like this? The electricity between them fizzled. She was on an emotional rollercoaster, and suddenly it was all too much. First, finding out her mom had cancer, then her mother’s passing, the funeral, the house, the packing. And now, the damn letter …

  Tasia pushed her chair back. “I want to leave.”

  “But your dessert—”

  “I’m not hungry anymore.” Her hand on her chest, she took a slow, deep breath.

  “All right. We’ll go.”

  Tasia wandered to the front of the restaurant while Malcolm settled the bill. She needed to get a hold of her emotions. Her mother wasn’t perfect. Yes, she’d had an affair, but that didn’t make her a bad person … So why did it hurt so much?

  Malcolm met her at the entrance. He took her hand and kissed it. Tasia’s pulse began to race. Every time he looked at her, his eyes lit up as if he were seeing her for the first time. Why couldn’t she stop obsessing about the damn letter and just enjoy being with him?

  Still holding her hand, he led her out of the restaurant. “Ocean Drive?”

  “Yes,” she told him.

  They walked leisurely, holding hands, but not speaking. Tasia soaked in the action around her. She’d almost forgotten the level of excitement in South Beach. It was definitely electric.

  The sky was a brilliant shade of dark orange as the sun was setting. As they made their way onto the beach, they walked past several beautiful sand sculptures that had been crafted earlier that day. “Hold on,” Tasia said.

  She bent to unbuckle her shoes. Heels were not the best way to walk on the beach.

  “It’s gorgeous out here,” Tasia said as they continued to walk. “Sometimes I forget how beautiful Miami is. I grew up here, and I guess I took it for granted. When I turned eighteen, I couldn’t wait to get out of here. But seeing it now, reminds me of just how spectacular this city is.”

  “It sure is,” Malcolm concurred. “I love it.”

  They kept walking, toward the Atlantic. Tasia stopped close to the water’s edge, then turned to look at the South Beach strip. “You walk two hundred feet and you get this.” She gestured to the vastness of the ocean. “The calming sounds of the waves. Peace. A respite from all the craziness just over there.” She pointed toward the various neon colored art deco businesses that lined Ocean Drive.

  Malcolm slipped an arm around her waist and drew her close. Tasia exhaled a shuddery breath. “I want to know what’s bothering you,” he said.

  Easing away from him, Tasia reached into her purse and withdrew the letter. “This,” she said. And then her face crumbled as emotion overcame her.

  “Hey,” Malcolm said gently.

  “I don’t know why I’m so upset over this. Obviously, it doesn’t really matter now. But …”

  “If it upset you, it does matter.” He took the letter from her hands. “I guess I should have let you read it in the restaurant. The sunlight is fading.”

  “I can see just fine,” Malcolm said. He paused as he read the name. “Hmmm … Jarvis Baxter.” His brow furrowed.

  “It turns out my mother had an affair with a married man,” Tasia announced.

  Malcolm’s eyes flew to hers. “What?”

  “Not recently. But … I never knew. I read this letter today and it floored me. I’m still trying to process it.”

  “You want me to read the letter?” He asked.

  “Yes. Please.”

  He withdrew the letter from the envelope. The wind picked up, flapping the papers about and Malcolm wrestled them into place. Tasia dug her toes in the sand as she watched him. Watched his face to see his reaction.

  Of course, this news might not affect him the way it had her. He hadn’t grown up with her mother.

  “Wow,” he said, after a few moments.

  “I know, right? I don’t even know how to deal,” Tasia went on. “All these years, I thought I knew my mom. Now I learn this.”

  “How do you feel about it?” he asked.

  “I’m angry,” she said immediately. Then she paused. Took a deep breath. “But the thing is, I’m not really sure if I’m angry at her because of what she did, or because she never told me.”

  “The date on this letter is 1997,” he said. “You were obviously pretty young at the time.”

  “Twelve.”

  “Then it stands to reason that your mother wouldn’t have told you about an affair when you were that young. Especially if she was involved with a married man.”

  “Yes, clearly,” she said. “But why didn’t she tell me later? All these years, I thought she was hung up on my dad. That she lived a lonely life because he’d ruined her. She could have at least told me at some point that she’d been happy.”

  “This must have been the guy she was talking about.”

  “Excuse me?” Tasia asked.

  “When your mother talked to me about your father and how he left, I asked her if she ever dated after him. She told me that she had … that there was someone she’d loved deeply, but couldn’t be with. It seemed as though she was still hurt when she mentioned it to me, so I didn’t push her for any details. But I got the sense that the man, whoever he was, was very important to her.”

  “She told you about him?”

  “Not specifically,” Malcolm replied. “And she didn’t tell me
that the reason they couldn’t be together was because he was married.”

  Tasia hugged her torso and walked toward the water. The wave that washed over her feet was cold. A shock to the system.

  Just like the letter had been.

  She turned to face Malcolm, tears blurring her vision. “Why didn’t she tell me?” she said thickly. “It would have made a difference for me to know that at least at one point, she’d been happy.”

  Malcolm stepped toward her. “But isn’t it harder to share these intimate details with the people we know and care for the most? The years may have passed, but I can only assume that your mother was worried you might judge her for having an affair with a married man. Especially after what your father did.”

  “Which is exactly why she should have never done the same thing to another woman …” As she spoke she suddenly realized the truth of Malcolm’s words. Despite the years that had passed, Tasia would have judged her mother.

  Right now she was hurt because her mom had kept such a monumental secret, but would Tasia have been able to listen to her explanation as to why she’d gotten involved with a married man in the first place?

  Probably not.

  “Oh, God,” Tasia said. “Of course she was afraid I would have judged her. And I would have. I am, even now.” She shook her head. “But … I don’t understand. After what my father did to her, to us, why would she do the same to another woman? At least if she’d told me about it, I could have asked her all these questions. I wouldn’t be left wondering. I wouldn’t be left with more questions.”

  Malcolm said nothing, just regarded her with kind and compassionate eyes. She spoke again, saying, “I loved my mother dearly, and this isn’t going to change that. But I do think that I would have been angry with her had she told me about the affair.”

  “Are you angry now?”

  “Now …” Tasia faced the water again. Was she angry? She’d been stunned. Disappointed, even. But was there really any point in being angry now?

  She faced Malcolm again. “Now,” she repeated. She thought for a long moment. “Strangely, right now I feel … relief. Happiness for her, even. After believing that my mother lived an unhappy and lonely life, only to die at fifty-four, I thank God that I was wrong.”