Straight to the Heart

by Michelle Monkou

  “Good, we’re all seated. Let’s get this going,” Pierce prompted, earning him a jab in his ribs from Haley.

  “Pay no attention to your bully of a brother.” Haley glared at Pierce. “Now that you are a famous television host, I want to see everything that you do.”

  “Everyone, stop talking. You’re making me nervous.” Omar slipped a disc into the DVD player. “Before I hit the play button, I want to give a brief intro of my upcoming documentary.”

  “Documentary?” Sheena slapped her knee. “I can’t believe my kid brother is going the serious route.” She frowned. “It is serious and will have an impact on people, right?”

  “She’s our resident militant,” Omar explained with a wink to Stacy.

  “Hurry up,” Stacy urged, joining in the playful ribbing of the family.

  “This is a story about homelessness among teenagers.” Omar offered Stacy a small smile.

  But all Stacy could feel was a cold stab of fear slice through her. She searched his eyes, looking for a sign that he wasn’t going to do what she was afraid he would do. Pointedly ignoring her, he turned toward the TV screen and pressed Play.

  Haley squeezed her hand and grinned. Stacy only managed a slight twist of her lips. The reason behind her curiosity about the show certainly didn’t match the family’s.

  “This is still a rough draft, but I wanted to give you a sneak peek.” Omar took a seat across from Stacy.

  The show unfolded with various interviews of current and former homeless teens. Stacy was impressed to see various government officials and administrators from the few teen homeless shelters being interviewed intermittently by a beautiful, dark-haired Latina or Omar.

  “As long as this is well rounded, I can deal.” A deep frown settled along Pierce’s brow.

  “What do you mean?” Sheena asked.

  “I want to hear from the teens, as well as parents. Some kids have it rough, but then others are just being rebels,” Pierce said with a touch of anger.

  “Cool it, hon. You’ll scare Stacy.” Haley nudged Stacy in the side.

  Stacy’s face warmed under the scrutiny. This family with its strong bonds and love could not know that she was one of those kids. Her insides quivered from the threat of being uncovered. The subjects who responded to Omar’s probing questions provided the extreme conditions and experiences of life on the street. She heard the family sighs and sounds of disapproval as many of the kids described their addictions.

  Silence settled over the room. Each person focused on the TV screen. Stacy wished that she could get insight into each family member’s reaction, pity or indictment. She didn’t have the addictions of drugs or alcohol, but nevertheless, she’d spent time with troubled teens. Their misery had been shared, sometimes involuntarily public, but mostly private.

  A familiar voice yanked her attention back to the documentary. A voice she’d heard recently. This entire experience had her jumping out of her skin. She stole a glance at Omar and he stared back at her.

  “I would consider Stacy Watts my childhood friend. We have since gone our separate ways. But at one time, we shared these mean streets,” Valerie said into the camera.

  “Well, this is a shock,” Pierce declared.

  Stacy couldn’t tell if this was a good thing. From the way the family had turned to look at her, she didn’t perceive the current situation as warm and fuzzy.

  “Guess her career got in the way,” Valerie added. “Maybe she doesn’t want anything to destroy her good-girl image.” Valerie looked into the camera. “Not that she wasn’t a good girl. Even on the street everyone knew that she was not to be messed with because she was Antonio’s girl.”

  “Who’s Antonio?” Pierce blurted.

  Haley promptly shushed him.

  Stacy looked over at Omar, hoping that he had an escape plan for this heated moment. Pretending that nothing unusual was taking place wasn’t possible when all eyes were trained on her. Her shame hung there for public scrutiny, to be examined. Her face burned with the flush of embarrassment.

  “Excuse me,” Stacy said and ran out of the room toward the front door. All she wanted was fresh air minus the prying eyes.

  “Stacy, wait!” Omar shouted.

  Stacy stepped onto the porch, gulping in the cool air. She closed her eyes to enjoy the air. She’d heard Omar, but she was hardly going to stand there to discuss anything. With a chance to breathe and collect her thoughts, her anger moved from its low simmer to full-blast.

  Omar stepped out on the porch and stuffed his hands in his pockets. He stood against the rail looking out at the traffic. Stacy could reach out and touch him, but didn’t. Instead her fingers curled into fists and she folded her arms definitively across her chest.

  “Everyone is asking about you in there.” Omar kept his back to her.

  Stacy turned toward the door half expecting to see faces pressed against the nearby windows. All was quiet.

  “I’m guessing that an apology isn’t enough.” Omar turned and leaned against the rail, his head hung low on his chest.

  “You’re one hundred percent correct.” Stacy struggled to keep her voice level. “I can’t understand why you did this to me. I didn’t want to be a part of your documentary. But clearly all I am to you is ratings.”

  “That’s not true. How could you think that I would use you?”

  “Because everyone has used me. And during my first meeting with your family, you show this ugliness.”

  “Your life is not ugly. I know that others can learn from it. I’ve talked to these young girls and many of them are a footstep from a life of drugs, prostitution or jail.” Omar threw up his hands. “Sorry, but the situation made me want to do something immediately.”

  Stacy knew what Omar said sounded right and wholesome. Yet he’d trampled over her private wish, which unsettled her.

  “I’m going in to share my regrets with your family that I can’t stay. Then I’m leaving. If I can’t get a flight out tonight, then I will stay at a hotel.” Stacy took a deep breath and headed for the door.

  Omar hurried over to her and grabbed her arms. “Please, don’t leave. I may have been a jackass for having Valerie in the documentary talking about you, but I promise you that I did it out of love. I love you, Stacy. And I know that my family has a big heart. You’re underestimating them.”

  “Maybe.” Stacy pushed him aside and entered the house. She tried to smile at the family grouped together on the couch. Her mouth merely trembled and the swell of her emotions had her fighting tears. She refused to break down into an emotional mess. She didn’t want their pity or their diplomatic words that they understood what she had gone through.

  “This was a surprise to you,” Pierce said.

  Stacy nodded, although it was more of a statement. “I…I will be leaving sooner…” Stacy took a steadying breath. “Thank you for your hospitality.”

  “Wait a minute. You’re leaving?” Haley shot out of the chair and headed over to her. “Please, don’t leave. Omar!”

  At the sound of Omar’s name being called, Stacy pushed away Haley’s hand. “I wouldn’t make good company at the moment.”

  “That’s okay. Sheena wouldn’t make good company, either, but we’re stuck with her,” Pierce teased, adding a wink to his remarks.

  Stacy smiled, appreciating his attempt. “I’ll go get my suitcase.” She ran from the room before anyone could stop her. Their voices raised in alarm rumbled into one conversation. From their pointed accusations, she gathered that Omar had reentered the room. She continued up the stairs to the guest bedroom.

  She’d taken such care in packing for this trip, all her clothes rolled in tight bundles to go in her suitcase, but now she tossed everything back in and slammed down the top. A light knock on the door made her pause for a second before she resumed her task. She ignored the caller.

  “Stacy, it’s me,” Haley said softly through the door.

  “Come in.” Stacy kept herself busy, gathering her toile
tries. She heard rustling, then the squeak of the mattress. “Are you the peackeeper?”

  Haley chuckled. “I’ve been called that. And in this case, I’m proud of my title.”

  “I’m not declaring war on anyone.” Well, that was a small lie. Stacy zipped her makeup bag and tossed it into her carry-on luggage.

  “Maybe war is a strong word. I think we have a tense situation. Yet I don’t think that it’s the end of the world.”

  “Of course it’s not a big deal. You’re a doctor’s wife with beautiful children,” Stacy huffed, frustrated that no one could really understand.

  “Oh, girl, have a seat.” Haley sat on the bed and patted the open spot next to her. “Yes, I may have a stable life like a Rockwell painting. But it wasn’t always that way. I’d lived a life that I often compared to hell. I worried for my daughter. I worried that I wasn’t capable of providing for her as a single parent. And I was at rock bottom when I came to live in this town to start over.” Haley patted her hand. “You’ll have to work out your issues with Omar. But the family doesn’t think any less of you. What little I know of my brother-in-law, I know that he did not mean to hurt you.” Haley stood and headed out of the room. “Please reconsider leaving.”

  Stacy remained in the room, seated on the bed. Haley’s invitation was so sincere, working to calm any fears.

  “Stacy, sweetheart, hear me out,” Omar said from the doorway. He held up his hands in surrender.

  “Come in.” Stacy moved along the bed, ensuring that his body would not brush against hers if he sat.

  “I just got reamed from everyone downstairs,” Omar said with a rueful grin. “This was supposed to be a bigger-than-life introduction to the family. I wanted them to be impressed with you, your work ethic, who you’ve become despite the obstacles.” Omar walked over and knelt at her feet. “I wanted them to like you.”

  “Valerie added to my guilt for escaping that lifestyle. I told Brenda about her daughter. She’s beyond angry with me. I’m not feeling too loved right about now.”

  Omar wedged himself between Stacy’s legs and held his head against her stomach. Stacy looked down at his head, following her heart’s request to touch his hair. She stroked his head, following the swirl pattern from the middle, spiraling out toward his hairline.

  “That feels good,” Omar said, muffled against her clothes. “It’s been a while since we’ve been in each other’s arms.”

  Stacy’s hand stilled.

  “Don’t stop.” Omar tightened his hold around her waist. “I may not have had a childhood comparable to yours. I have a strong family support that you didn’t have. But what we do have together is our future. We both have careers that have opened paths for us to explore and enjoy. I’m willing to go hand in hand with you down any of those paths. But I also don’t think that we have to shut the gate behind us. Our past shaped us. And you have become a beautiful, caring person.”

  “Valerie doesn’t think so.”

  “Call me sickeningly optimistic, but I don’t think anything is impossible. Valerie put up a front to be tough in case you rejected her.”

  “Why would I reject her? It’s because of her that I met Brenda.”

  Omar settled back on his heels, but still kept his hands at her waist. “Valerie has a little girl. She thought that if you knew she’d gotten pregnant, you’d be disgusted. But more than that, she’s afraid of what her mother would think.”

  Stacy held Omar’s face, tilting it up to hers. “A baby?” The tears that she struggled to hold back tumbled down her cheeks. “I can’t believe it. Brenda will be so happy when she finds out.”

  “See, sweetheart, sometimes there is something beautiful that comes out of life’s ugliness.”

  “You’re corny.” She slid off the bed onto her knees. “But I love you for it.”

  “You sweet-talker, you.”

  “You are the beautiful thing in my life.” Stacy kissed him, closing her eyes as her lips touched his.

  Omar groaned. His arms encircled her body and drew her against his muscled physique. He returned her kiss.

  “Um…Uncle Omar, Aunt Sheena sent me to get you,” Haley’s daughter, Beth, said.

  Stacy accepted Omar’s hand, helping her up. She corrected the smudges of her lipstick, fluffed her hair and then adjusted her clothes.

  “Let’s go finish watching that documentary, sweetheart.” Holding Omar’s hand, Stacy followed him down the stairs.

  The family cheered as the couple descended. Their raucous ovation welcomed her. She gladly embraced their effusive outpouring. She suspected that she’d need Omar and their love and compassion as she worked through her nightmares. She still had to create a happy ending between Brenda and her daughter. With Omar’s firm backing, she had a resurgence of confidence that Brenda had not lost her daughter and Valerie had not lost her mother.

  “I don’t care who’s watching.” Omar spun her into his arms. Like a prince awakening her from a deep slumber, he lowered his head and melded their lips together.

  When Stacy could suck in some air, she grabbed Omar’s chin. “You’re all mine. I love you for it.” She kissed him, vaguely aware of the roar that ascended.

  “I love you,” Omar whispered into her ear.

  “And I love and want you,” Stacy responded.

  ISBN: 978-1-4268-0560-8

  STRAIGHT TO THE HEART

  Copyright © 2007 by Michelle Monkou

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