“Wait a second. You were informed two days ago and you’re just coming in today? Aw, hell naw!”
Richard had to watch. He’d never heard Ebony curse. She stood with her back to him, hands on her hips, neck twisting, railing at his sisters. He loved every second of it.
“…You want audacity. Let me tell you about audacity. A few nights ago, at two o’clock, Richard almost died, and his loving family was nowhere in sight. Not because they didn’t know, or they were too far away to see him. That would be too much like right. Nope, nope, no. His loving family didn’t come because they don’t exist, and the family he does have never gave a damn.
“You are two cruel, heartless, mean-spirited, unhappy, evil wastes of human flesh. You tormented Richard so badly as a child he still has nightmares to this day. Why are you here now? Not for his well-being.”
“You can’t speak to us like this,” Bianca interrupted. “Who do you think you are?”
“No need to think about it. I’ll tell you exactly who I am. I’m the dark-skinned hoodrat that will put her foot up your ass if she hears you upset Richard in any way, shape or form!”
“What’s all the noise?”
Everyone jumped at Trae’s sudden entrance. The sisters backed away. Richard pretended to be asleep.
“I’m ready to leave now.” Ebony gently brushed her lips over Richard’s. “Goodbye,” she whispered.
* * *
Comfort and the hospital lounge chair were mortal enemies. Skeet twisted and turned his large body, finally giving up. Ebony was still with Richard, Trae had disappeared and Skeet wanted sleep.
He took the cheap leatherlike cushions off the chairs and love seats, then scooted one of the love seats and end tables away from the wall. Damn, they need to dust back here. He placed his temporary bed behind the love seat frame, stretched his long body out and drifted into sleep. The sound of a woman’s heels clicking against the hospital floor woke him a short time later.
* * *
“Stop pulling on me, Steph,” Nonno demanded as they entered the lounge. She’d been acting strange—stranger than usual—ever since he insisted on accompanying them to Chicago.
Stephanie released her father’s arm. “I’m sorry, Papà. I just wanted to…” She covered her mouth with her hands. “I’m sorry.”
He hugged his daughter. “Don’t worry, baby. Richard will be fine.”
“I need to ask you something, but I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Stephanie, my patience has worn thin.”
“Papà. I love you. You’ve always been my hero.”
Sorry he had spoken so harshly, he softened. “You’re my baby.” He caressed her face. “Don’t be afraid. Tell Papà what’s bothering you.” He glanced at Phillip, who looked as confused as Nonno felt.
She lowered her head. “I’m Richard’s mother, and have to do what’s best for my son. Would you please not tell people…” She lifted her head. Tears streamed down her face. “Don’t tell them you’re his grandfather.”
“What?” he snapped.
“Stephanie!” Phillip spun her around to face him. “What are you saying?”
She turned back to her father. “I’m sorry, Papà, but I can’t allow the same thing that happened to me to happen to Richard. He could die. If the doctors find out about you, they won’t give Richard the best treatment. Please, Papà.” She hugged him tightly. “I love you so much. Please understand. I’m not ashamed of you. I love you. You’re my papà. You’re my hero.”
Nonno gently rocked his daughter, trying to alleviate her fear. The way she paraded him around, there was no way she could be ashamed of him. “Who hurt you, Steph?” Her treatment of Richard finally made sense.
He stepped out of denial. She wouldn’t allow the child to play outside. He had convinced himself she wanted pretty little girls that sat around the house, but in his heart he knew she didn’t want Richard to appear any darker. Unlike his sisters, Richard had been born with an olive complexion, and darkened quickly in the sunlight.
When Richard went through the finding-his-black-self stage in college, Nonno thought it was hilarious. Especially since Richard was an Italian-American, not African-American. Stephanie almost had a heart attack, literally. Richard only hung out with black students. He minored in African-American studies. He felt comfortable in the culture.
“I love you, Papà.”
“I’ll always love you, Steph. I just want to understand. I need for you to tell me what happened.” He held her hand and led her to the lounge chairs. He frowned. Some idiot had taken most of the cushions. He guided her to a seat, then pulled around an upright chair for himself. Phillip stood by silently.
He took her hands into his, warming them. “You’re trembling.”
“Don’t hate me, Papà.”
“I love you.” He fingered her graying shoulder-length hair behind her ear. “Tell me what happened.” After high school she had decided her accent wasn’t cute any longer so worked to lose it. She had told him others wouldn’t accept her unless she sounded and acted American. It hurt him that she chose this strange culture over his, but he eventually accepted her choices. She had never said a word to him about his color being an issue. He worried she had been protecting him all of these years.
“We can’t remain silent any longer, Steph. The family is a mess: my granddaughters barely acknowledge me or their brother, my grandson is in the hospital fighting for his life and has never felt he fit in, my daughter’s afraid people will find out she’s…”
“No,” she cut in. “I’m not afraid people will know you’re my father. I’m proud of you. Always have been.”
“I know. What I don’t know is what happened.”
Phillip knelt beside the pair. “Stephanie has always been proud of her papà. During college, she bragged about you all the time and showed your letters to her friends. The girls were jealous of Stephanie. She was beautiful, smart. Her being Italian made her more exotic. They used to tease her about her accent.”
“That’s why you worked at losing your accent,” Nonno said.
She slowly nodded yes.
Phillip continued, “Lucy wanted to knock Stephanie down a few pegs. One time Lucy said Stephanie was lying, and that you didn’t own restaurants all over the world. She said Stephanie had just capitalized off a common Italian name and written the letters herself. Of course, Stephanie had to prove Lucy wrong. A week or so later we all dressed in evening attire and drove from Boston to your restaurant in New York.
“Lucy knew Stephanie was about to make a big fool of herself. You see, Stephanie had insisted we not make reservations.” He shrugged. “I have to admit, I thought we would be turned away. Pacini’s was a five-star restaurant before they had five stars. None of us could afford Pacini’s. You had to make reservations at least a week in advance. I knew Stephanie was a relation, but thought she was embellishing about her father being the owner.”
“Phillip, how could you?” Stephanie snapped.
He patted her hand. “Darling, everyone in our circle stretched the truth concerning their father’s wealth. We all wanted to be Rockefellers or Vanderbilts.” He faced Nonno. “When we walked into the restaurant, the staff knew Stephanie. They fawned all over Miss Pacini, tripping over themselves to serve her. They asked how her father liked California, and made our whole group feel welcome.”
Nonno chuckled. “My baby the show-off.”
“Well, I had to teach them a lesson, Papà.” Her smile faded. “I didn’t understand. I mean, I knew how blacks were treated, but that wasn’t my life. We’re Italian.”
“I asked Stephanie to marry me. She said she wouldn’t without your blessing. She called and asked for you to come over for Easter break. In true Stephanie style, she paraded you all over the place.”
Her smile lit her whole face up. “You were so handsome, Papà. I felt like royalty having you at my side.” She lowered her head. “After you left, things changed. My friends, except Phillip, started a
cting funny. When I finally confronted them, they said I should have told them I was a nigger. I was so confused.”
Phillip continued on her behalf. “At the time she didn’t understand that to our snobbish friends, black was black. They treated her miserably.”
“I’d always been Italian, and even when I was working to sound American, I knew I’d always be Italian. The people I thought were my friends called me names and treated me like a criminal.”
“Oh, baby.” Nonno embraced his daughter. “That was forty years ago, Steph. Times have changed.”
“The type of people I went to school with are now the heads of companies Richard has to work for. The doctors that should be saving him.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Her grin drew his mind back to her mischievous teen years. “Because you would have come ready to fight for your daughter’s honor. I was getting married, and never had to see them again.” She had married over the summer and didn’t finish school.
“You’re going to therapy.”
“What? I don’t need therapy.”
He raised a brow. Her expression made her look closer to six than sixty years old. “Are you talking back to me?”
“No, sir.”
He rubbed her back. “After you’ve had a few sessions, I’ll go also if it will help. Right now you need to go see your son.”
“Aren’t you coming?”
“Of course. I just need a few minutes alone.” Nonno didn’t know what to do about Stephanie or Richard. He had condemned Phillip for ignoring Richard’s suffering, yet he’d done the same thing with his child. And Richard…I almost got my grandson killed.
At a loss, the only thing he was clear on was he would never forgive himself.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Trae stood in the doorway of Ebony’s room, watching her work diligently at the computer. In the month since Richard’s unfortunate mishap, she had continued with business as usual. Well, almost. Her fire was gone, and she was always on the defensive. Helping her get over Richard was more difficult than he thought it would be.
“Where’s Crystal?” Ebony had asked him if she could adopt Crystal. He explained that he had made a mistake asking Richard to adopt her. He was her father, and couldn’t give up custody. She didn’t take his explanation well, and while she had started speaking to him again, the hostility remained.
“Skeet took her with him to visit Richard.”
He cursed under his breath for his miscalculation. Richard cooperated, but Skeet kept the door open. “I’m worried about you.” She ignored him and continued working.
“Look at me, Ebony.”
“I’m busy, Trae.”
“Ever since you broke up with Smoke, all you do is work, work, work. You’re burning yourself out.”
“I took Crystal to see a movie yesterday.”
He held his hands up slightly. “I stand corrected. You work, work, work, take care of Crystal, work, work, work. You’re a mess. When’s the last time you went to the gym, ate a good meal; hell, fixed your hair?”
“I cook for Crystal daily. My aerobics class was a twelve-week course, not sixteen, and a ponytail has always been my preferred style.”
“I know you. You’re hiding from your feelings. When’s the last time you walked the neighborhood? Hell, it’s spring. Your favorite time of year. There are flowers all over the damned place, the trees are blooming, but this place looks like a morgue. This isn’t like you. Why are you shutting me out? I’m here for you.”
“Men.” She continued editing her report.
How could he be the shoulder she’d lean on if she wouldn’t open up to him? He buried his frustration in exchange for love, care, patience and a bit of cunning. He knelt beside her. “You’re hiding your pain behind your responsibilities. No matter what happens, we’ve always been friends. I can’t stand by and allow you to close yourself off from the world.”
She sighed, stopped typing and slowly turned to him. “I truly appreciate what you’re trying to do. I’m fine. Honestly.”
“How can you be fine when the man you love walked out of your life? You can’t tell me you aren’t affected.”
“What do you suggest I do? Beg him to take me back? Stop living my life? Yes, I love Richard, and I’m hurt. But you know what? I’ll survive, just as I did when you broke my heart. I’ve learned from my mistakes. It’s time to move on.”
Stunned by her response, as well as the harsh tone, he was at a loss for words. He quickly searched his mind for a new angle.
“Are you finished?” she asked. “I have work to do.”
“You’ve been done with your thesis since December. You’re hiding behind the computer screen, making excuses to avoid people. This snappy, bitchy woman that’s been here these past few weeks isn’t you.”
“Yes, I handed in my thesis to the committee, but I still have an important presentation in a few days.” She saved her work, then shut down the computer. “Okay. Let’s get this over with.” She turned, giving him her undivided attention. “I’ll give you one night to play Mr. Psychology. After tonight, the subject of my love life is closed. Deal?”
“Deal.” They moved to the living room couch.
“So how do you want to do this?” she asked.
“I want for you to stop being so damn hostile.”
“I’m sorry.” She drew her legs up, then leaned her body against the armrest of the couch. “I shouldn’t take my bad mood out on you.”
“You’re always in a bad mood. Closing yourself off from everyone isn’t working. It’s time to try something different. We’ll always be friends. Let me be here for you.” As of late, she always looked worn out. He moved to her end of the couch, drawing her into his arms so she’d rest on his chest. As she relaxed her weight on him and softly cried, he knew she’d be his again.
“It’s all right. Let it all out.” He rocked her slowly, allowing her to finish her cry.
After she quieted, he asked, “What did you learn from our relationship?”
At first he thought she wouldn’t answer, then she finally said, “That being in love isn’t enough. I thought because we loved each other, we could conquer the world. It didn’t matter that your life wasn’t headed in the direction I wanted to go. Nothing mattered but the love we had for each other.”
“I screwed up, and you changed your mind.”
“I’m not stupid, Trae. I knew about the other women. Yes, I was embarrassed when I was confronted, but I had always known.”
“Why did you change your mind?”
“I loved you, but I discovered I love myself more. Women accusing me of taking food out of the mouths of their children was not what I wanted out of life, but a wake up call. I never wanted to run in the drug world. We wanted to move in different directions, so why was I following you?”
He listened closely. He had changed directions, and would prove it to her. He stroked her back, encouraging her to continue.
“When you gave me Crystal, I had to grow up. I decided what I wanted, how I would get there and worked toward my goals. Don’t take my Independent Woman card away, but it’s been a lonely journey. I want to share my life with someone.”
“What kind of man do you want?”
“Ooh, goin’ in for the kill tonight. I didn’t think he existed until I bumped into him on the train.”
Trae regrouped. Listening to her sing Richard’s praises was the last thing he wanted to hear. He hoped she’d give him some useful insight to use. “What was your mistake with Smoke?”
“I’ve been thinking about this since I visited him at the hospital. At the time I didn’t see it, but now it’s crystal clear. Rome wasn’t built in a day.”
“What?”
“You heard right. I thought I had met the man of my dreams. Instead of taking time to develop our relationship, I skipped steps so I could have the life I always wanted. I tried to build Rome in a day.”
“You did your part. It’s Smoke who messe
d things up.”
“We both rushed into the relationship, needing something we thought the other could provide, telling ourselves it was love at first sight. We both rushed to make the family we always wanted. When our relationship was tried, we found out we didn’t really know each other. Richard needed someone who believed in him. It took me days to realize something that if I had known him, I would have realized in seconds.”
He didn’t agree with her assessment of the situation at all. He knew she spoke out of pain. He needed to make his move before she began thinking clearly again. “Every couple fights. He ran out without trying to work it through. He gave up before he gave it a chance.”
“He needed time to cool off and regroup, just as I did when I found out you were about to become a baby daddy and was selling drugs. I’m sure he reevaluated our relationship. Did he want a woman who didn’t believe in him, in hopes that she would have faith in him someday? Is that what he wanted out of life? He was at the crossroad I was at years ago with you. Then the realities of my world were literally beat into him. I know I said we could talk about this all night, but I’m tired.”
“Some day you’ll love again.”
“Love’s highly overrated. My next relationship will be a business deal. Where are marriages arranged these days, India?”
“Can I pick him out?”
“I think I might be onto something here.”
Confident he would win her back, he wrapped his arm around her.
* * *
Trae thumbed through the pages of the photo album Ebony had given him for Christmas. If everything went according to plan, he’d have his happy family, but he needed to work quickly. The doorbell rang. He set the album on his new glass coffee table, then answered the door.
“Come on in, Skeet.” He stepped to the side. “Why are you wearing a suit? Did someone die?” He closed the door, then returned to his seat.
“I always wear a suit to the hospital.”
Ebony Angel Page 18