Pam folded her arms and considered what she’d just heard. "But what does Kristina think about it?"
"What? The whole issue with his ex-wife? She doesn't know yet. By the time he called me, she’d already gone to her room. Should I tell her?"
Pam tapped the table with her acrylics and thought for a moment. "I think you should. She needs to know he didn’t blow you off.”
And maybe, Pam thought, she’ll finally decide to put the brakes on this thing.
Chapter 15
Omar shifted in his seat. The oversized and richly upholstered chair in which he sat was more than comfortable, as were his surroundings. The elegant dark wood paneled walls, fresh cut flowers and sound of classical music in the background should've put him at ease. But he imagined it was hard for almost anyone to be too comfortable while sitting in the waiting room of a family law office.
How did his life turn out like this?
His parents were married for over forty years. Up until his father passed away, they never spent a night apart. They raised four kids together, went to church every time the doors opened, and always kissed each other good night. Omar assumed his life would be the same.
Instead, he was divorced and getting ready to fight for custody of his wife’s child with his best friend. He felt like the main character in a Tyler Perry movie. Entertaining on the big screen, not so much in real life.
Besides him, there were two other men waiting to be seen. One across the room and one in the chair next to him. The guy closest to him looked about as bad as he felt. The man’s foot hadn't stopped its frantic bouncing since he’d sat down. He flipped through the pages of a magazine so swiftly, Omar knew there was no way he was actually reading it. Like him, the man was doing what he could to pass the time.
The phone rang at the front desk and the secretary picked it up. After mumbling a few sentences, she stood and approached the man on the other side of the room, notifying him it was time for his appointment.
After the man left, the one sitting next to Omar flipped his magazine shut and tossed it on the table in front of them with a loud slap. The sound made Omar look up.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to make so much noise.”
Omar shook his head. "No problem."
The man leaned over and ran his fingers through his hair, exhaling roughly.
"I hate these places. Law offices. Lately it seems like I see these people more than I actually see my kids."
"That's rough, man." Omar suddenly felt a kinship with the stranger. Sharing custody with Marisa, he didn't get to see Chloe as much as he would've liked. But the thought of hardly seeing her at all? He didn’t even want to imagine it.
"So, did you just get divorced?"
Omar shook his head. "No, it's been a while. But…" He couldn't bring himself to say it. He couldn't bring himself to repeat the words Brock had used to blow his life apart. "Some things have changed."
The man nodded and leaned back in his chair. "And not for the better, I'm guessing." He exhaled. "Well, believe me, it's gonna get a whole lot worse. I wish my ex-wife and I could have gotten along well enough to just talk this out. Come to some sort of agreement on our own, you know? All this family court stuff has been tearing the kids up."
They sat in silence until the man went in for his appointment. But even after he’d left, Omar couldn't get his words out of his head. He didn't want him and Marisa to treat Chloe like a wishbone, each tugging on a part until they tore her in half.
Maybe there was still a way for them to resolve this on their own. It would take everything he had, but he could be civil with her, even now, knowing what he knew, if it meant making things easier for Chloe.
Omar got up and told the secretary he needed to step outside for a moment to make a call. Once out there, he dialed Marisa.
"Hello?"
He'd expected to leave a message. Like Brock, she’d been avoiding his phone calls for the previous week.
"Hey. Listen—“ Omar took a deep breath.
Watch your tone. Don't antagonize her. Think about Chloe.
"Brock came over to my house last night. Drunk.”
After a long moment of silence, Marisa said, “Okay…"
"I don't want to point fingers. I don't want to wage war. I just want to take care of Chloe."
Again, Marisa was silent for a while before she responded. "What exactly did Brock say?"
Omar still couldn't bring himself to repeat the words out loud. "Come on, Marisa. You know what he said. What you've been afraid he'd say since the night it happened."
He waited, but this time there was no response, so he continued. “It doesn’t even matter anymore. Like I said, I don't want this to affect Chloe. So I say instead of going to lawyers or doing anything crazy, we just meet so we can work through it."
"Yeah, okay. Fine." Her tone was clipped and monotone. “When and where?”
Omar almost didn’t know what to say. The last thing he expected was for her to be agreeable. He thought for sure he’d have to jump through hoops just to get her to talk. Maybe now that the secret was finally out, she knew she didn’t have anything to fear.
“As soon as possible. Today even.”
“Text me the details and I’ll be there.”
Relief settled over Omar and for the first time since talking to Brock, he felt like everything would be okay.
Omar chose a picnic table under a huge maple. Around him, the air was filled with the squeals and giggles of children. Nearby, a large family had music playing and meat on the grill. A grandmother danced alongside teenagers, all of them wearing purple, family reunion tee-shirts. A little ways off, another family tried to make their kites take flight.
Omar couldn’t help but notice the irony of him and Marisa meeting to discuss the custody of their daughter in a park filled with loving, happy families.
But he was glad she’d agreed to meet in a public place. Hopefully, being on full view would keep Marisa from going into complete drama mode. The less histrionics, the better chance they had to actually work something out. Not that he even knew what that would be.
If he were honest, what he really wanted was full custody of Chloe. But he knew that was never going to happen. And maybe it was for the best. He knew his daughter needed a mother and despite her many flaws, that's what Marisa was. And however much Omar loved Chloe, he could never fill the void not having a mother would make.
But that didn't mean he had to like it. Now that he was a grown man, he finally understood all the advice his father gave him and his sisters when they were kids. He always told them to be careful who they chose as a life partner because they weren't just choosing for themselves. They were choosing for their future sons and daughters as well.
If he’d actually followed his father's advice all those years ago, he wouldn't be sitting where he was now.
Omar scanned the parking lot for Marisa’s car. Nothing. He’d already decided that if she didn’t show, he’d go to her house. Either way, they were going to address this. Today.
A group of screaming kids from the family reunion rushed past him in a game of tag. It was after they’d gone by, he noticed the woman.
She looked out of place at the park. While everyone else wore t-shirts, tank tops, shorts and jeans, she dressed in a powder blue, button-down shirt, a navy blue jacket and tan slacks. If that wasn’t enough to get Omar’s attention, her marching like a soldier in his direction certainly did.
Omar sat up straight and looked behind him. No, there was no one else she could be looking at. It had to be him. He waited till she got closer before he stood; ready to ask what she wanted. The moment she got within a foot of him, she snatched something out of the inside pocket of her blazer and thrust it in his hand.
"Mr. Williams, you’ve been served."
Chapter 16
Tamia came out of her closet with another suitcase and dropped it on her bed next to Xavier. He was lying on his back with his head hanging over the edge, looking like his do
g had died. It was the only look he'd had since the failed family reunion. Tamia must've cracked a dozen jokes since then, trying to pull him out of his funk, but nothing worked. If she didn't do something soon, she knew she'd end up walking around just as depressed as he was.
Tamia scooted the luggage over and got on the bed. She stretched out next to Xavier and hung her head over the edge so they were in the same position.
"What are you doing?"
“Trying to understand how blood rushing to your skull makes you feel better."
"It doesn't."
"I agree. How long are you going to stay like this?"
"I'm sorry. I know I'm bumming you out."
“No, I understand. You were really looking forward to meeting your dad."
"Yeah, but it's not just that. It’s everybody. This was the only chance I had to be around my birth family. I start college in the fall. I mean, I know we’ll get to see each other now and then, but it's not the same."
Tamia knew that Xavier was starting school in the fall, but she hadn't thought about the impact it would have on their time together.
"Don't get me wrong. I'm really glad Kristina's going back on tour. I just wish it wasn't so soon. I thought we’d have more time."
Just as Tamia opened her mouth to agree, an idea struck and she bolted upright.
"That's it! The tour! Why don’t you come with us?”
Xavier sat up, too. “I can do that?”
"Of course, you can. Everyone already thinks you're her protégé, so it won’t seem unusual. I bet Pam could have you hired as an intern or something. You could hang out with us and get paid for it!"
A grin slowly spread across Xavier's face. "You, Tamia Langston, are a genius."
Tamia cocked an eyebrow.”Duh.”
Xavier put his hands on his belly, threw his head back and laughed. To Tamia, it was one of the most beautiful things she'd seen and heard in days.
Omar sat at the long, mahogany wood table with his lawyer beside him. Despite the court summons, his attorney convinced Marisa and her lawyer to meet and try arbitration first. And while he was grateful for the opportunity, he suspected he wasn't going to get very far. He knew Marisa well enough to know her tendencies, and her avoiding his phone calls the way she had since he’d been served was her way of digging her heels in.
He also suspected she was doing this only to hurt him. But why? And why now? The only thing he'd ever been to Chloe was a good father. And he knew, despite her sometimes questionable behavior, Marisa loved her daughter. So why in the world would she try to separate him and Chloe now that the truth was out? If anyone had a right to drag someone into court, it was Omar.
She had knowingly deceived him about Chloe's paternity even long after they’d split. And now, after all that time and child support, she pulled this move. It didn't make sense.
The only reason he could think of was the call from Tamia. He still hadn’t asked Marisa whether she’d heard the message, but he was convinced she had. Was that what set her off? Though she hadn’t met her, Marisa never liked Kristina. That was no secret. She, like Brock, knew Omar had been in love with her for years. So if she saw the Langston name on the caller ID and then listened to the message, maybe it was enough for her to put two and two together. If Marisa thought Omar and Kristina were back in each other’s lives, that would definitely explain her recent behavior.
When Marisa and her lawyer finally arrived, he could tell he was in for a fight. She swung the door open so hard, it slammed against the wall. Then she yanked out one of the chairs and threw her purse on the table. He tried to make eye contact with her, but she refused.
His lawyer began. "It is Mr. Williams' belief that resolving the custody situation outside of family court would be the best course of action. Especially for his daughter."
Marisa scoffed and rolled her eyes.
"What is that about?"
She cut her eyes it Omar. "Like you don't know. You can come in here and play the perfect father in front of these two, but I know better."
Omar could hardly believe what he was hearing. "When have I ever been anything but a good father to Chloe?"
"Look, I didn't come here to get into an argument with you. You said you wanted to discuss it, to keep it out of family court. Fine. That's what I'm trying to do. So how about we just let the lawyers handle it? I don't even really want to do this, but you forced my hand. I'm only here for the safety of my child."
Omar tried to control himself, but nearly jumped out of his seat. His lawyer put his hand on his arm and squeezed. "Mr. Williams…"
Omar put his hand up to his lawyer. "When has she never been safe with me?"
"It's not you I'm worried about." Marisa took out a manila envelope and slapped a stack of photos on the table. Dozens of them. They slid and fanned out across the high gloss finish of the wood.
"I'm not trying to have some drug addict, alcoholic ho around my child."
Omar and his lawyer picked up the pictures, looking them over. It took him a second, but then Omar recognized what they were. Pictures of him. Of Kristina. Of the day they’d spent together.
"Wait a minute. You had me followed?"
But upon further inspection, he realized it wasn't just pictures of him and Kristina. There were pictures of Kristina and her dancers, Kristina and Pam, Kristina and Tamia.
How in the world did Marisa get them? While the pictures of he and Kristina looked like they were taken from a distance and possibly a covert location, the others didn't. Whoever took the photographs had up close and personal access.
“How did you even get these? What? You’re a stalker now?”
"I'm only trying to look after my child. I really don't want to cut you out of Chloe’s life, but someone has to be the responsible party.”
Omar swept all the pictures back across the table in Marisa's direction. "I've always known you had problems, but this is just spiteful, even for you. With our history, there's no way any judge in their right mind would call you the responsible party.”
Marisa smirked and looked over at her lawyer. The lawyer took out a tablet and, after navigating a few screens, turned it around so Omar could see it.
It was amateur video. Probably from a phone camera. At first, it was hard to make the scene out. It was chaos. Individuals yelling and running about. The picture wasn’t steady and people kept getting in the frame. But quickly he realized what the camera owner was attempting to film. It was paramedics on the floor of a bathroom stall, feverishly working to save a woman's life.
Kristina's life.
"I don't have a problem with you, Omar. I really don't. But your little girlfriend? That's a whole other story. You may look good on paper, but Kristina Langston ain't so lily white, is she?"
Omar looked to his lawyer and the expression on the man's face told him all he needed to know. Marisa had him right where she wanted him.
"It's an easy decision, Boo. If you want to stay in my daughter's life, stay away from Kristina Langston."
Omar stood in the parking lot, leaned against his car, arms folded. His lawyer stood in front of him, briefcase in hand.
"Going into this, I was all for taking it to court. You know that. With everything that's gone on between you two, you are obviously the better choice. While most judges seem to prefer the mothers, I felt I had enough to turn things in your favor. Now, however…”
"But I've been her father from the moment I learned Marisa was pregnant. It's my name on the birth certificate."
His lawyer put his hand up. "I know. I know. But this Kristina Langston thing… It doesn't look good. I would avoid going before a judge at this point. I think it's best for all parties. We have no way of knowing who we’re going to get. There’s judges that harbor an inexplicable ambivalence toward the entertainment industry and like to use cases like these as examples. If we got someone like that, we’d be dead in the water. Then again, we could get someone that has a real issue with women lying about paternity. The p
roblem is, there's just no way of telling."
Omar ran his hand over his head and exhaled. "I can't lose my daughter."
His lawyer nodded and patted him on his shoulder. "Listen, I'll schedule another meeting. Hopefully, she will have cooled off by then. Maybe she'll be more reasonable. But if I were you, I’d cut this Langston woman loose."
When Omar opened the door of the church and walked into the sanctuary, he heard a familiar sound.
It was noonday prayer. And while everyone was welcome, the group usually consisted of the mothers of the church.
He sat on one of the back pews and closed his eyes. He listened as the various shouts and cries of the older women filled the empty sanctuary.
Hallelujah.
Help us, Jesus.
We’re leaning on You, Lord.
Take us through, Father.
His own spirit echoed every one of the sentiments being cried out. His heart was breaking and his mind was too clouded to think straight.
He thought he had it all figured out. He was sure Kristina coming back into his life was a miracle God Himself had set into motion. And then to learn he had a son with her? It was all he'd ever hoped for and more. So why did it seem that everything was set against it?
When he’d seen Pam's reaction to him showing up at the house, he could understand that. It didn’t make him happy, but he could see where she was coming from. He figured he would just have to prove his intentions and she would eventually accept him and Kristina together. But this issue with Marisa was on a whole other level. How in the world did it come to having to choose between Kristina and Chloe?
As much as his heart longed for Kristina, his daughter was first place. That was the commitment he’d made the day she was born. That was his responsibility to her as a father. To love her, keep her and protect her when she couldn't do it herself. There was no question in his mind that that’s what he’d do. But why did it have to hurt so bad?
Then Sings My Soul (The Langston Family Saga Book 2) Page 9