Not Guilty of Love

by Pat Simmons

  For the third time, she nodded.

  Trey shook his head. "Ah, ah, ah, you can utter, whisper, or shout, but I want to hear only one word that begins with a 'y' and ends with an 's'."

  Hallison closed her eyes, released a tear then opened them. "Yes, Trey. I'll marry you."

  "Yes!" Trey leaped up, pumping his fist in the air. Patrons turned their heads as forks clattered against the plates. Servers frowned in concern. Once Trey's outburst was understood, some cheered. Others stood, but most clapped. After pulling Hallison from her chair, he realized he had forgotten to give her the ring. "Oops." He grinned and dug inside his pants pocket for the ring box. He slipped it on Hallison's finger and kissed her long enough for more tears to fall.

  Saturday morning, Hallison woke with a smile. She hadn't dreamt it. She was engaged again. Yawning, she slid on her knees. "Good morning, Lord. Thank You for making Your will known to me. I love Trey. Not as strong as I felt for Malcolm, but you know that, and what's best for me." The phone rang as she said, "amen" and got up.

  "Good morning, baby," Trey's charged energy greeted her.

  She laughed. "Well, somebody had a good night's rest."

  "Why not? I'm engaged to a beautiful and saved woman. What's more to ask for except for her to set a date? Emmanuel said congratulations, but in the same breath said we could've waited until after he asked Paula."

  Hallison shook her head. "That means Paula knows. I guess I'd better go and call my mom, Cheney, Tavia, my cousins Faye and Tammy. Momma's crazy about you. Well, except for your dreadlocks and the gun, otherwise, you're a shoo-in."

  "Don't play, woman."

  "Trey, there is nothing I would change about you. I love you the way you are."

  "Hmm. It's good to hear you can say I love you, especially before you say, I do."

  Hallison twisted her lips. She did say it, didn't she?

  "Cat got your tongue? Hali, don't be afraid to love again. God knows my intentions are pure. I love you."

  She closed her eyes as her heart beat wildly. "I know you do. It's so hard to say it again, that's all." She needed a little bit more time to grow into the degree she loved Malcolm. She didn't know if she ever would. After all, nothing compares to a first love. "Listen, you. Since I'm now pressured to set a date, I think my mother would like to know you asked, and I said yes."

  "Okay. I'll see you later, and we'll do whatever you’d like today."

  Once they disconnected, Hallison took a deep breath and pushed in her mother's number. "Hi, Mom. I'm engaged! Again."

  Addison released, "Thank you, Jesus. Lord, we praise you. Halleluiah. What's he going to do with his hair? He's not going to strap a gun under his tuxedo on the wedding day, is he?"

  "Momma, just start planning. I've got to call Cheney and Paula." Addison agreed and hurried off the phone. Hallison dialed her cordless again immediately. "Hello? Tavia, I'm engaged," she screamed into the phone.

  "Again?" Octavia attempted humor, then grew quiet. "Hali, the doctors found another lump. I'll go for a biopsy on Tuesday." A soft sniff turned into a wailing cry. "I can't keep doing this. Prayer doesn't work, so I'm not even going to try this go-round."

  "Prayer does work," Hallison mustered a whisper as her joy deflated. While God was giving her a second chance at happiness, Hallison's top priority was praying that Octavia got a second chance at surviving.

  "If it did, I would be healed. I'd be a wife, a PTA mom, and everything else that comes with a healthy, normal life. About now, I would be on my way to the shopping mall, movies, or reading a book, instead I'm fighting to beat the big 'c' again."

  Lord, I really don't have any problems, do I?

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  A few weeks later

  “Hey, I need to talk to you. It's important," Malcolm informed his brother, already heading over to Parke's house, uninvited.

  Ten minutes later, when Parke opened his door, Malcolm crossed the threshold without speaking. The animosity still lingered. Malcolm couldn't recall a time in his life where he couldn't shake a grudge. He had sent flowers to Hallison as a peace offering. Of course, Lisa would've had a fit if she found out he ordered them from another florist for his ex.

  The morning after family game night, Malcolm had a long talk with his dad, which made him late picking up Lisa. He had always respected his father's wisdom except that day.

  "Hey, son. How are you this morning?" Parke V didn't wait for his son's reply. "Before you answer, remember you're talking to your dad. I reared you, and I know you, so don't waste my time."

  Malcolm twisted his mouth to spit out the words. "If she's happy, then I'm happy."

  "I told you not to waste my time. You're lying."

  "Dad, you know I loved Hali. She knew I loved her. God knew I loved her, but I'm a Jamieson. I wish she hadn't flaunted that sissy of a man in my brother's house. I mean, does he have a complex about going bald and that's why he's wearing all that hair?"

  His father waited before responding. "Hali is a sweet lady. Wish her the best and move on. It appears you and Lisa have some strong chemistry between you. Be patient, and see where that goes."

  For almost a half hour, Malcolm vented, and his father consoled. This was one of those times where he wished his father would take sides. Malcolm had a new resolve. If his father could be neutral, so could he. That's when he ordered Hallison flowers.

  Parke caught him off guard when he trapped Malcolm in a bear hug. Within minutes, Malcolm had wrestled himself free. "All right, already. I love you, too. I'm still mad at you, but... I ... I came to apologize.''

  Parke slapped his brother on the back. "We don't have to agree on everything, but blood is blood. Our DNA will never change," he said over his shoulder as he led the way to the back of the house.

  Once Malcolm took a seat, he checked his watch. "Listen, I don't have much time. Lisa is working on a big project, and I promised to bring her dinner." He took a deep breath and dropped his head then clasped his hands, thinking. When he looked up, Parke was watching him.

  "Here it goes. I admit I was a little upset about—"

  "Define a little, because you and I don't have the same definitions."

  "Okay, Parke. The last family night was good therapy for me. At first, I felt like a lost soul without Hali, but Lisa is smart, sexy, and a classy entrepreneur. After doing a mental checklist, the only fault I have with Lisa is sometimes she works too hard, yet she'll rearrange her plans for me if I ask her, which I've only done once on family night. We click, and I see a future with her. "

  "I never thought you and Hallison wouldn't make it to the altar." Parke threw his arms up in the air. "I would've never thought this was God's plan either, you dating Lisa and Trey proposing."

  "What? What did you say? Speak slower, Parke, real slow."

  He shrugged. "I said, Trey asked Hali to marry him last week. We just found out the other day since her friend, Tavia, is going through—"

  "What did she say?" Malcolm's voice took on an eerie calm as he squinted.

  "She said yes. Now, don't go ballistic. Cheney already thinks you and I shouldn't be left alone. I told her our babysitting days ended before we were teenagers."

  Frowning, Malcolm drew in his face until his nostrils flared. He stood abruptly and stormed out the room.

  "Where are you going?"

  "To Hali's."

  "For what? I thought you said Lisa complemented you?"

  "I lied," Malcolm tossed over his shoulder. He stormed to Parke's front door without looking back. He couldn't drive fast enough to Hallison's. Although he had a sporty Monte Carlo, he had never received a ticket for speeding. He had never had a good reason.

  At the curb of the Pelican Cove Apartments, he shifted into park. Climbing out, he nearly choked when he forgot to unbuckle his seat belt. Finally, freed from the contraption, he pinched his finger in the crack as he shut the car door. Cursing, he sucked on the bruise until he reached the landing, then he hopped two steps at a time.


  Once Malcolm reached her apartment, he used all his strength, including his throbbing hand, to bang on her door. He didn't have time for his signature buzzes. She opened it, displaying three emotions on her face: surprise, love, and anger.

  "Malcolm? What is wrong with you? Why are you here?"

  "Take it off, Hali," he ordered, snarling. His balled fist proved he was ready to carry out his demand.

  She continued drying her hands on a towel, but didn't allow him entry. "Take what off, Malcolm? What are you talking about?"

  "Take that ring off." He gritted his teeth as he leaned closer.

  Trey appeared behind Hallison. "What seems to be the problem, baby?" He eyed Malcolm and got his answer. "If I heard correctly, which I think I did, I put that ring on Hallison's finger, and I'm the only one who can take it off. That's not going to happen."

  When Hallison tilted her head to the right, Malcolm threw the first punch to Trey's left jaw. With Hallison trapped between them, Trey retaliated with a fist jammed into Malcolm's chin, barely missing Hallison's shoulder. Malcolm hadn't been in a fight since he was a freshman in college. The University of Missouri at Columbia, a.k.a MIZZOU Tigers, lost the football game, but the home team won the fight. Malcolm didn't plan to lose this one either, but he was losing his mind.

  "Stop it, Malcolm," Hallison shouted, pushing against his chest. When he didn't budge, she faced Trey, dodging his uppercut. Shoving him back out the doorway, she shouted, "No, Trey. You two are animals." Hallison's voice trembled as her tears and requests were ignored. Finally, she became Trey's body-shield, causing Trey to stop and growl.

  Huffing, Malcolm kept his fists ready and his eyes focused. "Hali, you aren't marrying this guy."

  That's when Trey shoved Hallison behind him. "You thug. Only God can stop me."

  "No, you didn't just call me a—" Malcolm's cell rang, saving Trey's eye. He shifted, but kept his foot in the door-jamb. Snatching the phone off his belt, he snarled at Parke's 911 text message. Malcolm hit redial. "Unless you're on your way for backup—"

  Hallison used the intermission to push Trey into her apartment and kick Malcolm's foot out the doorway.

  "What's that blaring noise? The ambulance... Cheney's what? I'm on my way." Malcolm left his opponent and began jumping down the steps.

  "What about Cheney?" Hallison screamed after him.

  "The baby's coming.”

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Hallison and Trey beat Malcolm to Missouri Baptist Hospital. After overhearing bits of Malcolm's conversation, Hallison raced to her kitchen. Haphazardly, she yanked ice cubes from the freezer and threw them in a Ziploc sandwich bag. Most landed on the floor. Scooping them up, she tried it again. After three tries, Hallison successfully slapped the meager first-aid patch to Trey's jaw. He jumped as she ran back into the living room and snatched a set of keys off her table and slipped on her mules.

  Hallison hurried to the door, then remembered Trey. She turned around as Trey walked out the kitchen, watching her. "C'mon," she ordered, tugging at his arm.

  "I think I should drive," Trey mumbled as he allowed her to lead him.

  Hallison frowned and scrutinized his battle wounds. "Are you sure? I'm in a hurry."

  He retrieved his keys from her hands. "I'm up for living, and baby, considering you can't put your shoes on the right feet, you may not see the red lights."

  After she had locked up and they were sitting in his SUV, he drove while she held the ice bag to his jaw. They needed to talk about what just happened with Malcolm, but later. Presently, the baby was more important, and she prayed all the way to the hospital that Cheney and the little Jamieson would be all right.

  At the hospital, Hallison had the door open and one leg out before Trey could park. He restrained her. "Wait."

  Flustered, Hallison gritted her teeth before speaking. "Trey, we've got to get in there. Let's go." Agitated, she almost yanked her arm from his grip.

  "Let's pray." He bowed his head without waiting for her.

  "Oh, right."

  "Jesus, please let the mother and child have a safe delivery. We need you, God, with us right now. Save Malcolm, and keep me from—"

  "In Jesus' name. Amen." Hallison ended the supplication, jumped out the vehicle, and sprinted toward the hospital entrance. Trey locked up his SUV and scrambled to catch up.

  Minutes later, Malcolm entered the emergency room with duplicate bruises. I should've made him an ice pack, too. Hallison rolled her eyes. Malcolm Jamieson was no longer her concern. Let Lisa kiss him and make him feel better.

  Gripping a speeding ticket, Malcolm stormed past Hallison and Trey for the nurse's station. A woman looked up and handed him a clipboard. "Sir, if you'll fill this out, a nurse will see you soon."

  "I don't need to see a nurse or doctor," he snapped. He took a deep breath and calmed down as a nearby security guard closed his magazine and stood. "Sorry," he mumbled. "I'm here to see my sister-in-law, Cherry... I mean Cheney Reynolds... no, no... Cheney Jamieson. That's right."

  Hallison and Trey tentatively found a seat.

  "Sir, did you know you're bleeding?" she questioned suspiciously, observing his face.

  "Of course I know that I'm bleeding. I just got into a fight! Look at the damage I did to that guy over there." Malcolm tilted his head over his shoulder.

  Hallison tightened her hold on Trey's shoulder and shook her head. She didn't need a repeat demonstration of testosterone.

  "I have no problem pressing charges for assault on a law enforcement officer," Trey advised Hallison, but kept his eyes on Malcolm.

  "Please, don't," she pleaded.

  "Only because I love you," he said, winking then wincing.

  The woman peeped over the counter at Trey holding the ice bag against his swollen jaw. She twisted her lips in thought. "Hmm. Maybe you should see a doctor, too."

  Trey was about to challenge the woman's across-the-room assessment, but Hallison squeezed his hand. He stood anyway, dragging Hallison to her feet. Malcolm looked at him with a mocking glare. Hallison could tell the gesture hurt Malcolm's face, but the stubborn man did it again anyway.

  Hallison had never before seen Malcolm exhibit such aggressive behavior. Maybe she could get Parke to suggest anger management classes for him until God saved him. Hallison silently prayed as two security officers approached Malcolm at the same time Parke walked between two automatic doors with his shoulders slumped. "It doesn't look good," he stated before breaking down as his chest heaved for air. "I need my wife and child."

  Malcolm went to him. The brothers held onto each other and wept. Hallison waved off the security guards and walked to them. Parke was overreacting, even for a first-time father. Malcolm and Parke opened their arms and Hallison entered their embrace.

  "Stop upsetting yourself, Parke." Hallison squeezed his neck. "Hopefully, Cheney will soon give you that son."

  Parke dropped his arms, revealing his swollen face as he made eye contact. "Something's wrong, Hali. We thought she was going into labor. I mean she was only two weeks away. Then she started bleeding... the ambulance came…"

  First Octavia, now Cheney. Hallison didn't hear anymore as she became hysterical at the alarming news. Malcolm and Parke barely composed themselves, only to lose it again.

  "I'm sorry, Hali. I thought you knew," Parke whispered, taking a deep breath. "I'd better call my neighbor who took Kami when the ambulance came." He sighed. "It could be a long night," he said, turning around. He left Malcolm and Hallison still clutching each other. Hallison rubbed his back and whispered soothing words.

  "If you don't get your hands off my man, you're going to leave here with stitches up and down your body," Lisa warned, sounding like a seventeen-year-old hood girl, but resembling a professional.

  Hallison and Malcolm slowly released each other. When Malcolm shook his head in disbelief, Lisa saw his facial bruises. She charged Hallison with the intent to hurt her. Blocking the blows, Hallison prayed for strength not to retaliate
. She wanted to represent Christ, but she was close to losing it.

  The recognizable voice of Mrs. Beacon tore through the ruckus. "Listen, hussy. Touch Hal one more time and I'll cut you. I mean that. I'm out on bail. Don't give me a reason to forfeit."

  The second hit never came as Malcolm dragged Hallison away at the same moment Trey was reaching to save her. The officers had Lisa in a body grip while she unsuccessfully struggled to free herself.

  Hallison looked toward the emergency room's sliding doors. First, she saw the Stacy Adams shoes then the house dress. As Mrs. Beacon started to approach, the security guard blocked her path.

  "Don't you know it's rude to walk in front of people?" Mrs. Beacon lifted her walking cane and pointed. "She assaulted that sweet, young lady. I want to press charges. I witnessed the crime. Good thing I came when I did."

  "You're one to call the kettle black, you criminal," Cheney's mother spat as she and Mr. Reynolds rushed through the doors.

  "I need backup, emergency room," the guard called on his radio. His request didn't quiet the group. Parke had disappeared in the pandemonium.

  More officers arrived and threatened to arrest everyone if they didn't retreat to their respective corners. The group was slow to retreat. Mrs. Beacon didn't back down from her challenge to Lisa to step outside. Mrs. Reynolds warned Mrs. Beacon to stay away from her daughter, and Trey advised Malcolm that he could comfort his own fiancée.

  "I mean it. If I can't hear a pin drop, I'll put all of you out. Do I make myself clear?" the first officer barked out his order.

  Everyone froze, except Mrs. Beacon who was rambling through her purse. Finding what she wanted, she taunted the authority by dropping a safety pin on the floor. She looked up at the officer. "Oops, pin drop."

  Forty-two minutes later, when Parke returned to the waiting room, he was greeted with an eerie silence. Everyone was sitting as if seat belted to chairs. Their peaceful, friendly expressions were merely a pretense as eyes and worried brows followed his movement.