by Amarie Avant
“I stayed in Dallas.” Liam knew Grand-père would rather hear him talk about a voyage. Selective of his words, he told Pierre about Royael and Raven.
“Are they staying with you?”
“Yes.” Is that all you have to say? I said your grandbaby is a great ballet dancer and how beautiful she is and—
“Hmmm. Don’t let them interfere with your work.”
19
Gobbling the pills that Dr. Stanton prescribed had been heaven for the first couple of nights—a forgetful blur. Energy high, anxiety low. Raven lived the best of both worlds, until suddenly realizing why she never took them consistently. She hadn’t slept a wink. No, she’d been living a nightmare—a fluffy-calming-sleepless-nightmare. She looked at the Hello Kitty clock and forced Royael to go to bed.
Royael was tightlipped as Raven hugged her goodnight since Liam hadn’t come home. Raven tried to sing their special song, but it was no use. She closed the bedroom door, remembering that Sunday morning. They’d acted like teenagers, and he had transformed into the boy she loved. The way he made her body come to life was second to none. Yeah, he probably thinks I flew over the cuckoo nest.
Ambling downstairs, she went to the exercise room. Those damn anxiety pills had changed her morning five-mile run into a nightly run. After a lung-crushing sprint, arm-screaming pushups, and sets of ruthless crunches, she went upstairs, still pumped.
Going into her bedroom, Raven grabbed a pair of pajamas. Noticing her phone vibrating on the nightstand, she answered. “Hey, babe.”
“Hi.”
“Are you okay? How was the uh … event in Los Angeles? Did your professor present his findings to the medical board?” She wracked her brain for more information about what William had told her. She’d been trying to kick Liam out of her house the day William left. That was also the day of the fire. Aw, shit, I forgot to tell William about the fire!
“I went by your house,” he said, tone stiff.
“O-oh, I-you were busy at the … the seminar.” Yes, the seminar. That’s right! She sank onto the couch. “I called—”
“You didn’t consider leaving your boyfriend a message about your home burning down? I had to talk with the neighbors.” His squeaky voice decreased in pitch. “I can’t do this anymore. You’re in love with Liam.”
“No …”
“He has that look … like he did when we were in high school. He still wants you. I can’t compete with him.” Before she could protest, William continued, “I l-love you, Raven, and you love him. I saw y’all at church, lo-looking h-happy. Like a family.”
“William, please …” Raven took in her reflection in the dresser mirror. Biting her lip, she recalled the service. Stephen and Melanie had encouraged her to do a solo to help her through the fire ordeal. Those pills had me agreeing to everything! Singing had made it feel like a boulder had lifted from her shoulders. Using her voice for the Lord had always made her feel good in the past. It wasn’t her fault that Liam wanted to go to church and got to benefit from her good spirits! The calming pills probably made me open my legs to him! What’s wrong with me?
“I’ve been busy and will take some of the blame, but you loved him even at the worst of times. When we graduated from high school and—” William didn’t know the full story, and his words went from despair to a sharp edge in two seconds flat. “Liam’s always going to be first.”
“William, come see me.” Anxiety rippled through her soul. Raven would fuck him if need be. They’d never had sex, but loneliness wasn’t an option these days. Not with Liam down the hall. I need you. She paced toward the glass wall, looking at the dark stretch of trees which bled into nothingness.
“Do you know how difficult it was to watch you in church when you sat next to him after service? Y’all were so close. You walked right past me Sunday, and you didn’t even notice.” His voice became crystal-clear. “I have to go.”
I’m so sorry. “Bye, William,” she whispered, and clicked the phone off.
Taking the stairs two at a time, she went down the long corridor into the kitchen, flipping on the lights. Heart pounding and hands clenched into fists, she searched through the drawers. Bingo, she found a wine opener. Going into the pantry, her eyes traced an array of wines.
“Eeny, meeny, miny, moe.” She grabbed one, used the wine opener, and tugged until it popped. White wine splattered everywhere. She took a swig. Uh-uh, too dry. Pushing the cork into the nozzle as best as she could, she put it back on the rack. She opened bottle after bottle until finding the best one. Wow, this wine is older than I am, but it tastes so good.
She grabbed a glass off the display case and walked out of the kitchen and back up the stairs. At the bridge, she turned left to Liam’s bedroom. Feeling for the light, she flicked it on. She stopped to stare at the large bed in the center of the room.
She stepped onto clay tile into a breathtaking Mediterranean-style bathroom, and past double sinks with wooden basins. Turning the knobs for the infinity tub, she wondered how long it would take for it to overflow. With one push of a button, the fireplace came to life. I need this. Her gaze traveled over a duo of French bath bottles. She opened one and poured the citrus and woodsy scented liquid into the bath. It instantly foamed.
Stripping off her clothes, she got into the hot water. Bubbles soothed her body and tickled her chin. Instead of using the crystal wine glass, she drank from the bottle. Reaching with her big toe, she turned off the chrome faucet as water started to splash over the sides. It didn’t seem logical to keep the thing running and rack up the bill, even if her name wasn’t on it. She chugged from the bottle.
Should’ve gotten two. The bottle clattered when she leaned an arm over and let it drop from her fingertips. A tipsy grin crossed her lips as she laid back and let steamy suds nurture her wounds.
Liam tugged off his slacks, letting them drop next to his polo on the floor of his bedroom. His mind kept replaying Pierre’s earlier conversation. Deciding not to come home had been ridiculous. Why did he care about Grand-père’s view of Raven? Pierre lived all the way in France.
About to slip out of his boxers, Liam heard music. For the first time, he noticed light seeping from the bottom of the double doors to the bathroom, and he opened one to see black hair flowing over the side of the tub. Raven laid in his tub. Steam rose, leaving her face glistening. Her eyes were closed, her heart-shaped lips agape.
“What are you doing?”
“Wh-what are you doing here?” Blue eyes popped open and water sloshed over the sides of the tub as she almost hopped up.
“What do you mean, ‘what am I doing here’? I live here.” His self-consciousness rose about being in boxers, but she glared sardonically and nestled back, eyes closed.
“Get me more of that.” Her hand flicked to the empty wine bottle.
“That’s a twenty-thousand-dollar bottle of wine!”
“So? It didn’t do the trick. I prefer the same, please.” She peeked at him as if still feeling his presence. He didn’t respond. She sighed. “Give me your cheap shit, if you must. At least attempt to offer a similar tasting one, please.”
“I’m not your connoisseur, so, no, I won’t.” Liam walked away to the sound of her giggling.
Awhile later, he set up the racks for the pool table, muttering, “I had to take a shower in a guestroom in my own damn house.”
Wrestling with the strings on a new pair of pajama pants, he calculated the angle of the striped blue ball. Liam got into position with the pool stick, but a slurred, sultry tune stopped him. Raven’s singing rose as she entered the game room. Her bare feet padded against the glossy wood while she sang off-key, teetering left and then to the right on a high note. The bottle in her hand tilted, red liquid spilling in every direction.
She stopped singing and noticed him. “This is awe-some! It’s the last of the good stuff. We need to go shopping and restock.” She took a swig, leaning back with it.
“You can’t buy that in America. Besides, it’s for special clients
.”
“Sorry.” The tipsy grin fell flat. “Guess I’m not special enough.”
“You know damn well that’s not what I implied. Raven, don’t talk crap. Keep up with the bullshit, your mind will start to believe it.”
She pulled a pool stick off the rack. “Um-hmm, don't get philosophical with me, boo.”
“Are you all right?” His tensed shoulders deflated. “Why’re you drinking so much, alone?”
Raven aimed, the stick veering left and then right of the ball. “Let’s make a bet.”
“You won’t win.” He leaned against a bar stool, arms folded.
“How do you know?” She pointed at him, about twenty degrees off.
“You’ve been going at that same ball for about five minutes, and it’s red.” He walked over and tried to take the stick.
“Don’t touch me!” Raven waved it around.
“Stop it.” Again, he lunged for it as she neared a glass figurine which cost a poor man’s fortune. Seconds later, he cringed when it shattered on the wood floor. “Damn, Raven! Why are you messing with everything?”
“Why are you here? You left that B to the S story on my phone earlier.”
“This is my house. I will come and go as I please!”
“Whatever, I’m out.” She started to move past him when he tossed her over his shoulders. Hitting him in the back with her fist, she exclaimed, “Let me go!”
“You’re going to step in broken glass.” By the time he got into the hallway, she’d clawed at his back so much that he placed her down with a smidge of force. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“You.” She pointed slightly off-target again. “You and all you stupid men! You just want me for a minute—a hot minute—then you’re off to something … better.”
A leaf on a windy day, she climbed the stairs. He held his arms out, ready to make sure she wouldn’t fall. He breathed freely when she sank down on the fourth step.
Head in her hands, Raven said, “He broke up with me.”
Liam knelt in front of her. He’d never been envious of a man below his stature, but Stephen had everything he ever wanted. They’d seemed so happy singing together a day ago.
She added a barely audible, “Nobody wants me.”
“I want you,” he heard his voice say, though he knew he shouldn’t.
“No!” Chin jutting out, she pushed his chest and stood. “Not you. I won’t ever forgive you.”
The tears streaming down her face made his heart ache. He leaned forward to hug her and help her from teetering. “Raven, you’re drunk.”
“You walk around acting like you’re so good; shoving money in my face, trying to cover up your sins and that letter. I would've never considered killing our baby!”
It wasn’t the most opportune time to bring up family secrets—they had never seemed to find the right moment. “I have to tell you something.”
“Oh, you’re rather intelligent, you think an excuse will let bygones be bygones? How about trying this on for size, Liam? You had every motherfucking opportunity at your fingertips to come to me, to call! You ran away like a bitch! You bet your fucking ass, if I had enough money while pregnant, I would have taken my ass to funky-France and dragged you back! It’s too late now. Whatever you have to say, save it. I won’t ever forgive you!”
He bit his lip and watched her retreat. Maybe she won’t?
20
It was Tuesday again. Tuesdays had once been reserved for hitting the gym and going to lunch with Mom. Now it was the day after Raven had become the ultimate nutcase.
Those damn anxiety pills. Against her better judgement, she’d taken the PM prescription and forgot all about it during her chat with William. And after said chat, she’d drowned herself in wine.
Raven got out of her car and slammed the door. “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” she cursed herself about mixing alcohol and medication.
Digging a hand into her purse, she rummaged for loose change and shoved it in the meter as a vision of Liam’s face coursed through her brain.
The warm May sun beamed down on the umbrellas over tables at the bistro. Chatter crowded her ears as she weaved through the linen-top tables toward Damien.
He stood in a cream suit and gave her a hug. “I ordered your favorite chicken salad as a bribe for you to come to dinner tonight.”
“Gosh, I thought we were just enjoying lunch,” Raven said sarcastically. “I do not want to see her.”
“I’ve talked to you about holding grudges until I’m blue in the face.” He took a deep breath as she folded her arms, then he proceeded with extreme tactics. “Be kind to one another, tender—”
“Yes, yes!” Raven rushed the rest of the words, “... tenderhearted, forgive one another as Christ forgave you. Ephesians 4:32. Thanks, Dad. She’s seeing that hot Latin actor Miguel. I know it. Why are you even trying to help?” Raven had attended one of the Deceptive Desires tapings. She wasn't sure, but she'd be damned if Char and Miguel weren't banging each other's brains out after the way they went at it on the show.
Damien's affect never changed. “Hmmm, I’m glad you know your Bible. How about taking heed to its instruction?” When that sneer didn’t go away, he continued, “After Char went to rehab, I made a promise to get the two of you back together. It’s been difficult, you and Char made sure of that, but I won’t back down.”
Blaming it on the pills, her insides ran hot and cold while they ate, and Damien made his case. He did a good job providing witty replies to her terse retorts. He even showed a grin of satisfaction to their playful disagreement as he grubbed on Kobe beef.
“All right.” She tossed her cloth napkin on the table as he smiled triumphantly. What have I got to lose? Certainly not a mother.
“Dear God.” Charlene paused, at a lack for words. “Please put it in Raven’s heart to forgive me.”
Dressed in all white Christian Dior, Charlene turned the doorknob, taking a deep breath.
Royael bounded into the house with a frown on her face, her tiny voice holding a tremor as she said hello.
“Hi, baby doll. What’s wrong?”
“I wanted to show Daddy my baby auntie, but Mommy didn’t wait for him.”
“Sorry about that.” Charlene put an arm around her grandbaby. Since Raven seemed to be on her phone, stalking back and forth near her car, they walked upstairs to the nursery. The room smelled of baby lotion. Trinity sat in her crib amongst a throng of stuffed animals and raised her arms when she saw them enter.
“Wow, she’s fat!” Royael giggled, looking through the wooden bars.
“Yes, Trinity loves to eat.” Charlene grabbed the baby and hoisted her on her hip. They went downstairs as questions from A-Z flew out of Royael’s mouth.
“I don’t know the answer to that, Royael,” Charlene said as they entered the dining room. She stopped short, seeing her daughter, and tuned out Royael’s inquisitiveness. Gulping, she watched as Raven came inside the room with that unreadable face she’d almost gotten used to seeing.
Raven smiled at Trinity as she held her arms out. Kissing Trinity’s chubby cheeks, Raven said, “I missed you so much, little sister.”
“I’ll sit Trinity down.” Damien appeared from the kitchen with cartons of upscale take-out. He hugged Raven and Royael.
“You guys, go ahead and eat. Mom and I are going for a walk.”
Raven guided her out the French doors. They stopped at the lake shore.
“Water always brings me peace,” Raven said after a moment. “Look, I’m not searching for another apology. I’ve never been a fan of words, and saying sorry is a useless one. Actions mean more than anything.”
“Okay,” Charlene hesitated.
“There’s only one thing I’ve always wanted you to do.”
“Raven, while I was in rehab, I spoke with my therapist. I had them confirm if I could help Otis. He wasn’t a blood match; I would have helped if I could.”
Raven picked up a rock and skimmed it across the peace
ful water. “Glad to know, but that’s not it. I’ve only ever wanted you to look me in the eye. No words, no apologies—shit, if you really want, you can tell me you love me. But look me in the eyes when you do it.”
Her gaze flew to the sweet grass below her stilettos. “It’s hard for me.”
“Yeah, I realize that. You’ve always looked just to the left, just to the right, a little high, a little low. When you see me, you see your rapist, don’t you?”
Shoulders hanging, Charlene nodded. “That day you and Liam came into my life, I always knew. There was no way in hell you were related to him. To Roy. I just …”
“But I’m not your rapist, Char, I’m your daughter.” Raven stared, transfixed by a woman who hated her. “You hate me.”
“No!” Charlene held her hands out, and again, she looked just left of her daughter’s gaze. “I love you.”
“People lie. It happens all the time. I’ve learned not to feel slighted when someone makes a promise they have no intention of keeping, just to be nice in the moment. But dammit, I don’t believe you.” Another rock soared out of her hand, skipping so far across the lake that she had to bat her eyes against the setting sun’s glow to watch it disappear. “You’re lying to me. And, unfortunately for me, I care.”
The heels of her shoes had become wedged into the muck. Charlene forced her stiletto out to step before her daughter. She placed her hand on Raven’s shoulders and, for the first time, looked into Raven’s eyes. “Yes, you are Roy’s child. Nobody can tell me otherwise. That DNA crap from the Lemaîtres is bullshit. But Roy’s eyes aren’t the reason I have a hard time looking at you. Well, shit, they are. But they aren’t the full reason. I’ve failed you, Raven. I have failed you!” Charlene took a deep breath. “Do you know I waited for a few months for your eye color to change? I know some babies are born with colored eyes, I hoped you were one of them. For almost ninety days I put something above myself. Not trying to say ‘woe is me’ or pat myself on the back. Anything you could ever do to hurt me could never compare to what I’ve done to you. I knew you in those few months, I tried to love you then, and nothing in me was able to. I hated everything about you. Then I went and made it. I became a star using every bit of emotion which should have been reserved for my child on acting. And yes, when you and Liam came to see me, I still hated you! It took Damien, counseling, and hell, learning how to truly love myself to realize that I love you. So yes, I find it hard to stare at you because of Roy, and because deep down inside, I’m aware that I’m not worthy to even be your parent.”
