Omar appreciated Brock having his back, but the last thing he wanted to talk about was that weekend. Low place? That was an understatement. He was devastated. It was the closest he’d come to seeing Kristina face to face since his father had shipped him off. After years of wondering and hoping and waiting, he finally got his opportunity. He thought it was a sign. That they were meant to be and had been given a second chance to get it right. It turned out to be anything but.
The conversation reminded him about what he’d seen earlier.
"So get this, after my run-in with Marisa, I decided to call my lawyer. Guess what was on my caller ID?"
Brock shrugged.
"A local number. T. Langston."
"As in, Kristina Langston?"
"I don't know. That's what I thought, at first. But…"
“But what?”
Omar shook his head. “It was probably someone unrelated.”
“Probably? You didn't call the number to find out?”
Omar watched Chloe giggle and run circles with her friends around the front of the castle.
"Naw, man. Whoever it was, they didn't even leave a message. So it couldn’t have been that important, right? Besides, I have bigger things to worry about."
Chapter 6
"So, what do you guys think about that one?"
Kristina, her background singers and her band had been rehearsing for most of the day. Usually, they would just be running through the set, tightening the vocals and blocking the movement on stage. Instead, they were tearing the whole show apart and putting it together again. Since recommitting her life to God, Kristina had decided to remove certain songs from the set list. Now they were all trying to decide on which to add back in and where to put them.
Although they’d been there for hours, she hadn't been able to grab a moment alone with Tamia. During the two breaks they’d had, she was interviewed by the producer or pulled to the side by Pam, needing her to sign off on something. The rest of the time, Amy was watching her like a hawk.
At one point during rehearsals, Tamia approached Kristina, eager to talk. But as much as she wanted to hear what Tamia had to say, she sent her away with a quick shake of her head.
Usually, the production crew was covering her with a boom mic. The advantage of that was she could sneak out of its range when she wanted some privacy. But because she was rehearsing on stage and the sound guy didn’t want to miss anything, the producer decided to also mic her up.
Absolutely everything she said was recorded.
"I don't know," Adrian, her music director said. “What if we tried putting Love Story after Be Mine, then go right into Secret Lives?”
The other musicians and singers nodded in agreement.
"Yeah, okay. That would work. We’ll run it through in that order, but before we do, let’s take a short break, okay?"
Adrian nodded and called out to the group to take five. Kristina motioned at her assistant in the front row of the auditorium. When she came over, Kristina got her phone from her and went to her text app.
Any news?
Kristina watched Tamia talking to the other background singers as they drank water and checked their phones. She knew Tamia got the text when she got a quick glance from her. She texted back a sad face.
Kristina could fill a lump rising in her throat, but swallowed hard. No matter what she was feeling, she couldn't react. Not with cameras on her and an entire crew watching and waiting for some meltdown, blowup or repeat of her hotel bathroom incident.
She texted back.
Been 2 weeks. He's not interested.
Tamia looked over at her and made a face as her fingers flew over her phone’s keyboard.
You don't know that.
2 weeks, Tam. 2 weeks.
I'll call him again.
No. Just leave it. Please.
They went back to rehearsing and quickly knocked out a few more songs, finally locking in the new set list. Kristina told Adrian she wanted to take a lunch break and told the producer she wanted her mic off. What she didn’t tell them was that she needed to be alone. She needed the chance to feel what she was feeling without witnesses.
The moment she was free, she went past the green room and through the stage door to the trailers set up outside in the parking lot. They were using them as temporary dressing rooms and her trailer was the only place the TV crew had yet to invade.
Just as she was opening the trailer door, Tamia called out behind her. Without pausing, Kristina said over her shoulder, "I've made my decision, Tam. Let it go." Then she went inside her trailer and closed the door.
No sooner than she was inside, her phone’s email notification sounded. After taking a glance at it, she smiled and shook her head.
Xavier and his daily devotionals…
With the forwarded devotion was a message: ”I love you and hope you're having a blessed day. This is one of my favorites!"
Truth be told, Kristina didn’t want to read the devotion. She didn’t want to be spiritual at the moment and she didn’t want to walk by faith. She didn’t want to do anything but feel what she was feeling and curl up on the tiny couch in her trailer and cry like a baby. But despite her temptation, she decided to go ahead and give it a look.
Isaiah 41:10
Don’t be afraid, for I AM with you.
Don’t be anxious, I AM your God.
I strengthen you. Be sure, I help you.
I hold you up with my victorious right hand.
It doesn’t matter how dark your situation is right now. HE is with you. HE is your God.
Is your heart broken? He’s taken on the task of mending it. Not sure what to do? He’s become your wisdom. Are you on the verge of giving up? He’s pledged to carry you.
When God is with you, you have all you need. Remember that. Remember HIM. Look neither to the left or the right.
Look up!
He’s on your side!
Kristina remembered what Robin told her a few months ago about God loving her and always listening.
While blubbering in the fetal position might make her feel a little better, going to God with the situation would be a lot more productive. So that’s what she decided to do.
“Father, help my heart to only want what's meant for it and not what it can't have. And help Xavier. He wants to know his father. Right now, it doesn’t look like that’s gonna happen. If it doesn’t, show me what to do, how to tell him. I don't want to break his heart.”
Although there was more she wanted to say, she couldn’t get the words out. She remembered the song by Karen Sheard about not being able to say a word. So she raised her hands and did the only thing she knew to do. She began to worship.
And like an answer to her prayer, the words from the devotional rose up in her spirit. A peace came over her and an assurance that God was, indeed, her Father. And not just any Father, but a Father Who loved her enough to number the hairs on her head.
"Thank You." She whispered. “Thank You for being in control of this. Help me remember that, no matter what, You love me and You love Xavier. And even if things don't work out the way we’d hoped, we don’t have to be afraid because You always have something good in store.”
Omar leaned over the table and studied the changes the contractor was proposing. He held the phone between his ear and shoulder as he compared the sets of blueprints.
“Okay, I think this will work,” he told the contractor awaiting his decision. “Just remember, no matter what, we want quality above all else. I never want you to make a difference between the properties we flip and the houses we donate.”
“I hear ya’, man. I’m on it. By the way, I sent Rob over with work orders to be signed. And I’ll email the new estimates when we hang up.”
As he spoke, the doorbell rang.
“Sounds like Rob’s here now. I’ll call to check in later."
Omar disconnected the call and slipped the phone into his pocket as he opened the door. But it wasn’t Rob he saw standi
ng on his porch steps.
It was the last person he ever expected to see.
"You didn't return my message, so I decided to drop by."
Omar was having too much trouble believing Tamia Langston was at his front door to even comprehend what she was saying.
After a few moments of him staring at her, mouth gaped, she said, “Do you know who I am?”
He wondered whether he was having some sort of waking dream. “How? I mean— What?”
She raised her eyebrows. "I called and left a message. Two weeks ago."
Omar shook his head, as if to clear the cobwebs. Then it dawned on him. The day of the party. The caller ID.
“Someone named Langston called, but I never got a message…”
Was Marisa there when Tamia called? Did she listen to the message, then erase it? He didn't have any proof, but it would explain a lot. Specifically, her aggressive behavior when she saw him.
As he stood there trying to make sense of it, Tamia cocked her head to the side. "You gonna let me in?"
He blinked and nodded. He stepped back and opened the door wide. "Of course. I'm sorry. Come in."
Tamia walked in and looked around the impressive entry. "You've done well for yourself."
He shoved his hands in his pockets and nodded. "Yeah, we've all come a long way from the old neighborhood, haven't we?"
"You got that right."
He led Tamia toward the living room, but she stopped when she saw the framed photographs on the large, round marble table in the entryway. She picked one up.
"Oh my goodness. She's beautiful."
Omar came up next to Tamia and looked over her shoulder. "That's my Chloe. She's a sweetheart."
"How many do you have?"
"Just one."
Tamia arched an eyebrow and set the photograph back on the table.
“Yeah…about that. Can we talk?"
As they went to the living room, Omar's mind was still reeling. "It's been a long time. I have to admit, I never expected to see you again."
Tamia sat on the leather sectional and nodded. "You know, we live here in Atlanta. All three of us. Me, Pam, Kristina."
He sat across from her. "I know."
Tamia’s eyes widened. "You know? Why didn't you ever contact us?"
Omar shrugged. "I couldn't imagine a reason any of you would want to see me. Come on, you ladies run in different circles. The rich and famous. I'm just a regular guy. Besides,” he said, lowering his head. “I always felt a bit guilty. To be honest, I didn't know if I could even face you."
Tamia leaned forward. "Why?”
“For leaving you. It wasn't by choice. But still, I could have fought harder."
“You were underage, Omar. Your parents sent you away. You were just as helpless as we were. What could you have done?”
He shrugged. “Nothing, I guess. But knowing that didn’t make it any easier. I was supposed to be your protector. In the end, I was useless.”
“Omar…”
He shook his head and rubbed his eyes. “You girls got out. That’s all that matters.”
Tamia chewed her bottom lip. “Did anyone ever tell you what happened? After you left, I mean?”
“Yeah. My father.”
Tamia sat up. “What did he say?”
"Not much. Only two words. ‘She miscarried’. We were having some argument about my life and how it had turned out. He wanted me to go into the military. I told him I wanted to be with my family.” Omar rubbed his forehead. “That’s when he said it: she miscarried."
Omar paused. Tamia could see how tightly his hands gripped one another by the way the skin stretched over his knuckles.
“I wanted to come back. He said it was better to let things be. ‘You done that girl enough damage,’ he said. I asked my sister to check on you all. But she said Pam and Kris stopped coming to school and your mother wouldn’t allow any outside contact.”
Tamia pressed her lips together. It was not something she or her sisters liked to talk about, but he needed to know.
"Yeah. After our mother discovered Kristina was pregnant, everything changed. She pulled us out of school and homeschooled us until they took their GED's. And as far as church, what little social life we had there was taken away."
Omar shook his head. "I'm so sorry."
"It wasn't your fault."
They sat in silence for a few moments before Omar spoke again.
“Not too long after that, my sister told me she’d heard a rumor that you’d all left Texas. Once she confirmed it, I saw no reason to go back there. But…I never stopped thinking about the three of you. About Kristina.” He bounced his heel with nervous energy and asked the question that had been on his mind since he’d opened the door. "How's she doing?"
"She's good. Really good. For a while there, it was like she was someone else. But that was the drugs and alcohol more than anything. Since she turned her life back over to God and checked into rehab, she's like her old self again."
Omar grinned from ear to ear. "And Pam?"
"She's good, too. Although, she'd have a fit if she knew I was here."
Omar raised his eyebrows. "Here? As in, with me? Why?”
Tamia scooted forward to the edge of the couch and took a deep breath.
"This is probably the equivalent of dropping a ton of bricks on your head without warning, but here it is: That baby Kristina miscarried? He lived. His name is Xavier and he'd like to meet his father.”
Chapter 7
Despite the blank look on Omar’s face, Tamia laid it all out for him.
She told him about how it’d all started as problems with her mother's will and how that led them to Xavier. She told him about how the baby must have cried or moved and how their mother dropped it off at the Morris house. She explained how Mahalia became something of a fairy godmother to Xavier and watched him grow up.
She got it out as fast as she could, then waited.
From the look of him, she wondered whether she should call 911. He opened his mouth to say something, but instead of speaking, put his hand over his chest and leaned back in his chair.
"And she never even hinted at this? To any of you? Over all these years?"
"Not a word."
His eyes grew wide. "Do you think my parents knew?"
"I doubt it. I doubt anyone knew except my mother. You know how she was. Always had to control everything. I think she knew the only way to do that was to make sure no one else was involved."
"What's he like? Where does he live? Is he here? In Atlanta?"
Tamia took her phone out of her handbag and navigated to the selfies she’d taken with Xavier in Dallas. "Well, to answer your first question…" She handed him the phone.
Omar looked at the picture and covered his mouth with his hand. He laughed out loud.
"It's the boy toy!"
Tamia narrowed her eyes. “The what?”
“The younger man. The reason Kristina supposedly got her groove back. All this time, I thought he was her new boyfriend.”
He shook his head. He knew Kristina was hiding something in the interview, but he had no idea this was it.
Tamia rolled her eyes. “Yeah, we have the geniuses over at TMZ to thank for that. They reported it first. Next thing we know, it’d spread like wildfire. Mind you, no one’s ever seen them so much as touch in public, but there you go.”
“Maybe it’s for the best. If everyone already thinks they know the story, they won’t go digging for the real one.”
She nodded in agreement. ”They decided to keep their relationship under wraps from the beginning, just to give themselves time to adjust. Unfortunately, that’s led to a lot of rumor and speculation."
Omar nodded without taking his eyes off the picture. He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He had a son. “When do I get to meet him?"
" I guess that's up to you. Whenever you'd like."
Omar looked up at her, his face beaming. “How about this minute?”
&nbs
p; Tamia laughed. "I knew this would be your reaction. Kristina was worried about disrupting your family."
"Oh, no. She shouldn’t have been. Chloe will be thrilled."
“What about your wife?"
He shook his head and handed the phone back to Tamia. "My ex-wife. I’m sure she’ll find a reason to be upset. But since we aren’t together anymore, it’s not my problem.”
“Huh. Sorry to hear that."
Omar waved his hand through the air. "Don't be. It was a mistake from the beginning."
Tamia offered her phone back to Omar. "How about you give me your phone number. You know, so I can set up a meeting…"
Omar was reeling.
The moment he closed the door behind Tamia, he took out his iPad and did an Internet search for Kristina Langston protégé. He watched every video clip and studied every photo he could find. He could see a bit of his mother in Xavier's features. But even with that, he could hardly wrap his head around it.
He had a son.
With Kristina.
His heart was so full of joy, he thought he’d start levitating at any moment. But the joy was mixed with sadness, as well. He'd missed eighteen years. Eighteen years of father-son talks, birthdays, Sunday dinners, fishing trips, driving lessons.
Maybe if he wasn't already a father, it would have been easier to take. He could've imagined what he’d missed out on without knowing the actual pain of it. But having changed Chloe's diapers as a baby and taken care of her when she was sick, having kissed her goodnight and comforted her when she woke from nightmares, he knew exactly what he’d missed. The fun stuff and the hard stuff. Chloe was only five and he couldn't bear to miss a day.
Then Sings My Soul (The Langston Family Saga Book 2) Page 4