Seeking Sarah

by ReShonda Tate Billingsley

  Still, my mother said nothing.

  “Yes, your precious perfect woman-of-the-year wife ran out on her husband and child to start a new life. She didn’t feel like being bothered with us, so she just discarded us, and let me live all these years thinking she was dead.”

  “It wasn’t like that at all,” my mother said, finally finding her voice. Her tone was still just above a whisper, as if all of this had drained her soul.

  “This isn’t making sense,” Anthony said.

  “Did you even get a divorce from my father? I mean, are you even legally married to Anthony?” I asked her.

  Sarah glared at me through her tears. “I hope you’re happy. I hope you got what you wanted.”

  I moved and opened the door. “If you’re hurting, then I’d say I have.”

  She shook her head, released another heavy sob, then ran out of the door.

  The anger and tears and years’ worth of bitterness were finally boiling over.

  “I don’t believe you did this!” Anthony yelled at me before bolting out the door after his wife.

  “I don’t care what you believe!” I screamed back, slamming the door behind him. “I want that bitch to feel my pain!”

  I picked up the three-thousand-dollar vase and threw it against the door. As it crashed and splattered to the ground, I fell to the floor as well, sobbing that while I’d come to do what I wanted to do, the hole in my heart felt wider than ever.

  CHAPTER 36

  * * *

  It had been a rough night. I hadn’t gone into the office today. After peeling myself off the floor last night, I’d drowned my sorrows in a bottle of tequila. And now I was paying the price. The hangover of all hangovers had what felt like a death grip on my head.

  That’s why the knocking on my door sounded like a jackhammer. I stumbled toward the noise, just to make it stop.

  “Who is it?” I said through the door.

  The banging continued. I looked out the peephole to see Alex. He had that dark look in his eyes so I wasn’t about to open the door.

  He noticed me through the peephole and just like that, the darkness disappeared. “Hey, it’s Alex. I’ve been out here knocking for ten minutes. I thought maybe you were upstairs and couldn’t hear me.”

  “Ummm, Alex, I’m not feeling too well. Call me later,” I said through the door.

  “Are you talking to me? I can’t hear you.” He knocked again and just to get it to stop, I cracked the door.

  “Hey Alex,” I said, “I feel awful so just call me later.”

  “I need to talk to you, can I come in? Just for a minute,” he asked.

  “Alex, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” I knew that I owed him a conversation. I don’t know if he knew anything or not. I couldn’t tell from the blank expression on his face. But I just couldn’t deal with any of it today.

  “Why not?” He smiled. “You look like you partied a little too hard last night. I’ll make coffee.”

  “Alex . . .”

  “Please?”

  I sighed, then stepped aside and let him in. It really had been wrong the way I’d used him, and if he did know who I really was, I owed him an explanation.

  “So, what’s with the suitcases?” he asked as he stepped in the living room. I vaguely remembered throwing all of my belongings into the suitcases last night. But I must have really been drunk because I didn’t remember packing three bags.

  “Umm, I’m heading home tomorrow.” I massaged my temples, hoping I could will the pounding away.

  “And you weren’t even going to say goodbye?” Alex asked.

  “Of course I was. I’m just . . . I’m just out of it right now.”

  “Uh, let’s get that coffee.” He headed into the kitchen. I followed as he started talking about some new book he wanted me to check out. Maybe he didn’t know anything. Regardless, it was time that he did.

  He put a K-Cup pod in my Keurig, placed a cup under the spout, and pressed START. As the coffee began to brew, Alex took a step toward me. “Brooke, I just wanted to tell you how much you’ve made a difference in my life. I know I said I was gonna get back with Kara but I can’t because I want you so bad.”

  I pushed him back—hard. “Alex, I already told you I’m not feeling you like that.” I groaned because the last thing I felt like was dealing with this.

  A slow smirk spread across his face. “Oh yeah, you don’t want me. You want my father.”

  All remnants of my hangover were instantly gone. “Ah, uh, what are you talking about?”

  “Don’t play me for stupid!” he yelled. “You’ve been using me, leading me on because you were having an affair with my father.”

  I took a step back. “Look, Alex, I’ve never led you on. I’ve been clear from the jump.”

  He slammed his palm on the kitchen counter. “Bullshit! You’ve been playing me and you know what they say when you play with fire, right?” The rage in his eyes scared me.

  “Alex, I think you need to leave,” I said.

  “Ho, I ain’t going nowhere.”

  His words stunned me. “Alex!” I knew that he was losing it so I needed to stay calm.

  “Don’t ‘Alex’ me, you home-wrecking tramp. My parents fought all night and now my dad is moving out. They told me everything, including how you weren’t ever my friend and were just using me to try and get information on my family.”

  “I am your friend.” My words were slow and calculated. “It’s so much more complicated than that. Please, you have to understand.”

  “No! I don’t have to understand anything, except, you think it’s cool to play with people’s emotions. You think it’s cool to break up someone’s family.”

  I took several steps backward. The insanity in his eyes caused me to look for escape routes. “She broke up my family first,” I managed to say.

  “Shut up,” he snapped. “Not only did you hurt her, but you hurt my dad, and me, and my little sister.”

  “Alex, what about what she did to me?” I was hoping I could reason with him.

  “Guess what? I don’t care about you. Since you obviously don’t care about anyone else.”

  To say I was scared would be an understatement. The rage in his eyes, coupled with the frantic gestures he was making, had me terrified.

  “I’m sorry about everything, but I really want you to leave.”

  “Naw, I don’t think so.” In one svelte move, he snatched a long butcher knife out of the knife rack. “In fact, let me tell you how this is going to play out,” he continued. “You’re gonna call my mother and tell her you made it all up.”

  “She was here, Alex,” I said, even though it didn’t seem like he’d be able to process any rational thoughts. “She heard everything, plus your father admitted to everything.”

  “Well, tell her you put him up to it!” He snatched my cell phone off the counter and jabbed it at me.

  My trying to reason and get him to see things logically was not working so I tried a different approach. “Alex, I like you a lot, but your father—”

  “—was seduced by a whore. And you used me to make your seduction plan come to fruition. You probably don’t even like books.” There was a crazed look dancing in his eyes, once again causing me to tremble.

  “Alex.”

  “Stop calling my name!” His cell phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket, looked at the screen, then slapped his head. “Ugh.”

  I was trying to weigh if there was any way I could make a run for the door. But the way he was right now, I didn’t think he’d hesitate to kill me.

  “Okay, look, here’s what I’ll do,” I reasoned. “I’ll just leave town and never return. And you all can just forget you ever met me.”

  “So you think you’ll destroy my family, then just up and leave? Naw, it doesn’t work like that.”

  His phone rang again. I was praying that he would answer. “You’d better keep it shut,” he said, before pushing the TALK button.

  “Hell
o!” Alex screamed into the phone. He pointed the knife in my direction as if to tell me not to move. “No, Dad. I told you I was gonna handle it . . . I’m not telling you where I am. Since she’s so big on revenge, I’m just going to make her pay.”

  “Help me, please! He’s at my condo!” I screamed.

  Alex dropped the phone, then reached over and slapped me harder than I’d ever been hit in my life. The force of his hand knocked me to the floor.

  “Didn’t I tell you to shut the hell up?” he screamed. “You women don’t ever know when to shut up!”

  I sniffled as I fought back more tears. “Please, you don’t want to hurt me.”

  He leaned down. “Oh believe me, I do. I just have to figure out the best way. I could plunge this knife into your heart right now, but I think that’s too easy.” He ran the knife down the center of my chest, the tip piercing the point where my breasts met.

  I was taking slow breaths to keep from becoming hysterical.

  “Yeah, all the dreams I’ve had about you and I making love. I think it’s a good idea that I make those dreams a reality.”

  I couldn’t say anything. Fear had paralyzed me. “You’re not a rapist,” I said to him.

  “You don’t know what I am. Everybody thinks I’m crazy anyway. I can rape you, then just plead insanity.”

  Images of a frightened Kara flashed through my mind.

  “Alex is fragile.”

  “My brother can be so mean.”

  “My son is . . . special.”

  Was Alex crazy for real?

  “Oh, my God,” I mumbled.

  “Even God can’t help you now.”

  “Alex, this doesn’t make sense. We’re friends.”

  He was silent, deep in thought, and I wondered what was going through his head. I was just about to try to reason with him when someone started banging on the door.

  “Alex, son, open the door!” I heard Anthony yell.

  “Ugh, what is he doing here?”

  “Help!” I shouted. Alex turned around and once again slapped me.

  “Son, please let us in!” Sarah shouted through the door. “It’s not worth it.”

  I could hear two pairs of hands banging on the door.

  “They’re not going to go away and pretty soon they’re going to get the attention of my neighbors,” I said from the floor. I was going to die. That’s all I could think. If I didn’t get away from this maniac, I was going to die.

  Alex glared at me, grabbed me by the hair, and dragged me into the living room. “Help!” I yelled. It’s like he had superhuman strength and no matter how hard I flailed, I couldn’t break free.

  Alex slammed me against the wall next to the front door. “Go away!” he yelled through the door.

  I struggled to pull myself up off the floor.

  “Open the door, Alex,” Anthony said.

  “No. I told y’all I’m not going to let her get away with this.”

  “Please, son,” my mother said.

  He took a deep breath, then slowly moved to open the door. As soon as he did, I bolted. I ran to the back bedroom, screaming. I heard Sarah and Anthony calling after Alex. It sounded like he’d taken off right after me but I was running like my life depended on it and didn’t look back to be sure.

  I locked the bedroom door and slid stuff in front of the door like they do in the movies. I looked around the room, frantic. I’d left my cell phone in the kitchen. Then it dawned on me, my Apple Watch! I immediately hit the phone icon and dialed for help.

  “Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?” the operator said.

  “Help! He’s in my house trying to kill me,” I shouted as I scooted a bench in front of my bedroom door. I jumped as Alex banged on the door.

  “Ma’am, what’s your location?” the dispatcher asked.

  “1612 Sagewood Drive, unit 22B. Hurry, he’s crazy!” I cried.

  “Open this door!” Alex screamed.

  I moved into the bathroom and put up a barricade of laundry hampers and everything else I could find in front of the door.

  “Ma’am, the police are near. Are you in a safe location?” the dispatcher asked.

  “I’m barricaded in the bathroom,” I whispered, then yelled toward the door. “You’d better go, the cops are on the way!”

  I heard Sarah and Anthony mumbling but I couldn’t make out what they were saying and I really didn’t care.

  “Ma’am, is everything okay? Where are you?” the dispatcher asked.

  “I’m locked in my bathroom now, but he’s gonna get in. Please, hurry. He has a knife.”

  “You’re not going to get away!” Alex yelled. It sounded like he’d gotten in the bedroom. “I’m gonna make you pay!”

  He hit, then kicked the door as I cowered in the corner of the bathtub.

  “Ma’am, the police have arrived.”

  “Tell them to hurry!” I cried.

  With every kick, I flinched. With every pound, I cried.

  I guess Alex had locked my bedroom door because it sounded like his parents were banging on the door.

  “Let us in son!” Anthony yelled.

  Just then I heard, “Police, freeze, drop your weapon!”

  Alex hit the bathroom door, which crashed open, and I screamed as he lunged at me. I scrambled out of the way and dove farther into the bathtub as I prepared to join my father. I cringed in horror, then, as he raised the knife, a single gunshot pierced the air. Alex stopped, his eyes bucked, then his hand went to his abdomen, which was staining with blood. I cowered in the tub as he slowly fell to the floor.

  “Noooooo!” Anthony cried as he raced to his son’s side.

  Alex’s body jerked as he gasped for air. “I’m s-sorry. I just wanted her to pay.”

  Anthony’s wail was joined by Sarah’s as Alex’s eyes rolled into the back of his head.

  CHAPTER 37

  * * *

  “Precious Lord take my hand. Lead me on and let me stand.”

  I fought back the tears as the soloist belted out what once was one of my favorite gospel songs. But now I know I’d never be able to listen to this song again without a memory of this service and the role I played in leading to this day.

  “I am tired. I am weak.”

  My eyes scanned the small church. People of all races sat in the pews, and an array of flowers surrounded the cherrywood casket. I had begun this journey with a funeral and I was ending with one. I would give anything to change both times.

  As the soloist wound down, the minister took the stand.

  “At this time we’d like anyone who would like to speak to come up. Please keep your comments to two minutes,” he said.

  The petite elderly lady next to me leaned in. “You wanna go up? You’ve been sitting back here pretty broken up. It might help you feel better to say something,” she said.

  I clutched my handful of tissue and vehemently shook my head.

  “No pressure, baby,” she whispered. “Say goodbye in your own way.”

  She turned her attention back to the front, where several people had come up to give words of condolences. They talked about being classmates, customers, friends. From the comments, the Alex who showed up at my house last week was not the same man all of these people knew.

  I felt a tug at my heart as Alex’s ex, Kara, took the stand. She wore all black and her hair was pinned back in a bun, putting her puffy, grief-stricken eyes on full display.

  “Hello, everyone,” she began, her voice soft and low. It was obvious that it was taking everything inside her to speak. “I didn’t think I would have the strength to get up here. As many of you know, I have loved Alex since I met him in the ninth grade and my prayer had always been that one day we would find our way back to each other. Despite his . . . well, despite any issues, we all know that Alex had the most loving heart. He loved hard.”

  Several people in the audience chuckled.

  “Whether it was caring for a stray puppy, me, or”—she looked over at my mothe
r, Anthony, and Sunny—“his loving family, he was fiercely protective.” She stood erect. “I am heartbroken because Alex and I were going to try and make things work between us and I was so happy. It is that good side of him that I will choose to remember. It is that side that I will”—her hand went to her stomach as she took a deep breath—“choose to tell our child about.” The Ford family flashed pained smiles. It was obvious they had already received this news. “When our child comes into the world, I will let him know how absolutely amazing his father was.”

  Silent sobs punctuated her speech. Her sister, Jada, rushed to her side and guided her back to her seat. I was frozen. Alex was going to be a father.

  I didn’t have long to process that revelation because Anthony took the podium. My mother was by his side. They gripped hands, connecting like they were Siamese twins. I guess grief had united them and taken precedence over betrayal.

  Anthony began speaking, his voice hoarse and heavy with grief. “We debated whether to speak, but I wanted to let you know on behalf of our family that we are grateful for the love you all showed Alex and are now showing us. We will never understand why things happened the way that they did.” My mother squeezed his arm to give him strength. “My son suffered from borderline personality disorder. He had been doing great, and we were so proud of his progress. That’s why we are starting a scholarship in his honor to help other young people like himself. We hope that you will help us continue to raise awareness of this mental illness that often goes undiagnosed.” He inhaled, then blew a long breath. “Please keep us in your prayers.” He turned toward the casket. “To my beloved son, I will see you in Heaven.” And then Anthony let loose a sob that resonated at my core.

  I had been sitting in the back. The absolute last row. I’d worn a black hat and sunglasses and I prayed that Anthony, or my mother, didn’t see me. I knew that I shouldn’t be here, but I had to. I’d gone to the bookstore to get funeral details. I’d been absolutely devastated at the pain I’d caused.

  My mother glanced at the rear of the church as they made their way back to their seats. I quickly buried my head in the program, praying that she didn’t see me. When Anthony let out a wail, crying, “My son, my son!” I couldn’t take it anymore. I stood, excused myself as I stepped over people on my row, and bolted from the church. Outside, I stopped short of getting in my car and heading up I-85 back to Raleigh. If I never set foot in Atlanta again, it would be too soon. But I couldn’t do that until I’d faced them—Anthony and my mother. Faced them and told them that I was sorry.