by Shana Burton
“Is she home? Can I speak to her?”
Mark let Lawson into the house. “She’s in the back. I was just about to head out to pick her up something to eat, unless I need to stay here and referee.”
Lawson raised her right hand. “We’ll be fine, I promise.”
“All right. I’ll be back in ten minutes.”
Lawson made her way to Reginell and Mark’s bedroom, where she found Reginell cleaning.
“Hi, Reggie.”
Reginell threw up a hand to say hello.
“So are we going to talk about this?” asked Lawson.
“Talk about what?” Reginell continued busying herself with mundane tasks to avoid giving Lawson her full attention.
“Just tell me what I can do to make this right. I hate fighting with you.”
Reginell slammed a drawer shut. “Who’s fighting?”
“You were when you gave me this busted lip! Reggie, you won’t even look at me. We need to talk about it.”
“Talk about what?” Reginell asked again. “You want me to apologize? Fine. I’m sorry your lip got in the way of my fist. I was really aiming for the nose.”
“We need to talk about the kiss . . . I know it bothers you.”
Reginell shrugged. “I’m over it.” She paused and looked up at her sister. “Unless it bothers you that you kissed my husband and neglected to tell me about it.”
“You’re making it sound like we had some sordid affair, but it was nothing like that. It was just one stupid kiss! It just happened. We weren’t thinking—”
“Wrong!” blurted out Reginell. “You were thinking. You’re always thinking. You’re my sister. I know you better than anyone, and if there’s anything I know about you, it’s that you don’t so much as take a leak without thinking about it first. Nothing ‘just happens’ with you. There’s always a plan, always an agenda.”
“Not that time, Reggie.”
“Just admit it.... You kissed him because you wanted to. You didn’t care that we were together or that you had a husband. You wanted what you wanted, which happened to be my husband.”
“He wasn’t your husband then.”
“What about Garrett? Wasn’t he your husband at the time?”
Lawson was reluctant to answer. “Barely.”
“But he was still your husband, though, right?”
“I’m sorry that it happened. It was wrong, but I wasn’t out there kissing myself that day. Mark is just as much to blame. More really, because he initiated it.”
“I’ve dealt with him, but that part of it isn’t any of your business.” Reginell shook her head. “I shouldn’t even be surprised, really. You’ve never wanted Mark with me. You’ve never thought I was good enough for him.”
“That’s not true, and you know it.”
“What I know is that you’ve tried to undermine my relationship from day one. That’s why we didn’t tell you about the wedding. You’re too stouthearted to be supportive.”
“Don’t get it twisted, Reggie. If I didn’t support this relationship, there wouldn’t be a relationship!”
Reginell frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You know exactly what it means. Who did Mark propose to first? If I wanted him—better yet, if I didn’t want him with you—you wouldn’t have him!”
Reginell laughed. “Are you still trying to play that tired ‘he wanted me first’ card? He may have asked you to marry him, but he married me,” Reginell sneered and held up her left hand. “I’m the one with his ring. He never wanted you, Lawson, just Namon.”
“Then why are you so worked up about the kiss?”
“Don’t flatter yourself into thinking it’s because you’re some kind of threat to my marriage. You’re not. Everything Mark wants is right here, and he can’t get enough of it! The problem is that you kissed him. What kind of person does that to her sister?”
“Are you kidding? Reggie, you married my child’s father, and you have the nerve to stand there and ask me about a freakin’ kiss?”
“There it is. Just admit you’re still jealous because Mark chose me over you.”
“Reggie, this isn’t about being jealous! This is about you, my sister, who could’ve had any man she wanted—and let’s be real . . . you’ve had just about every man you wanted—but chose to pursue the one man on this entire planet who has a lifelong connection to me. He’s the one person anybody with any sense of loyalty would’ve avoided.”
“Mark approached me, not the other way around.”
“You could’ve turned him down. You could’ve said no. I know that’s not a word you were used to saying in your past line of work, but you could’ve at least tried for me and for your nephew!”
“Why? You had a man. Who or what Mark does ain’t none of your business.”
“You’re right, but I’m not talking about Mark. I’m talking about you.”
“What I do ain’t your business, either!”
“You owed me more, Reggie.”
“I don’t owe you jack!”
“Reggie, I’ve been the closest thing you’ve had to a mother since Mama died when you were fifteen. I took care of you. I made sure you were fed and had a roof. I was there for you when no one was there for you. I defended you and bailed you out of trouble more times than I can count. I’ve earned your respect and your consideration. You do owe me that.”
Reginell calmed down. “Lawson, I love you, and I am thankful for everything you’ve done for me, but this isn’t gonna work.”
“What isn’t?”
“You, me, Mark . . . all trying to coexist peacefully. It’s just not possible.”
Lawson was rattled. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that I don’t want you coming around anymore.”
“What?” Lawson was dumbfounded. “Reggie, I’m your sister!”
“You are, and nothing will change that, but Mark is my husband. We’re newlyweds, and we’re still trying to figure this marriage thing out. I think we have a better chance with that if you stay away.”
“You’re just upset about the kiss—”
“I am upset about the kiss, but I’m also upset about you not respecting my boundaries with Mark, you finding reasons to call and talk to him, and you trying to use Namon to get to him. I’m sick of all of it.”
Lawson tried to reason with her. “I really believe this is just the hormones talking. You’re still recovering from the surgery, and your body is still adjusting. You said yourself that mood swings are one of the side effects.”
“If that’s what you need to tell yourself, fine. But I’m telling you to back off. Stay away from me. Stay away from my husband.”
“For how long?”
“I don’t know.” Reginell shrugged her shoulders. “I’ll let you know.”
“What does Mark have to say about this?”
“That’s not your concern, Lawson. Mark is going to go along with whatever I want. He doesn’t care about what you think or what you want. You worrying about what my husband has to say or what he’s feeling is why it’s come down to this.”
“It’s not like that, Reggie. I love Garrett. I don’t want your husband.”
“If you don’t want him, staying away from him shouldn’t be a problem. You can see yourself out. You know the way.”
“Reggie—”
“We’ve said all we need to say, Lawson. Now, get out.”
Chapter 27
“Our marriage has been held together with prayer,
Band-Aids, and borrowed time for a while now.”
–Sullivan Webb
Sullivan made the drive to her mother’s house against her better judgment. Vera could rarely be counted on for sound advice even if Sullivan managed to catch her while sober. Nevertheless, desperate times called for desperate measures. If Sullivan showed up on Vera’s doorstep, it had to mean she was desperate.
“How many times do I have to ask you not to smoke around my child?” asked Sulli
van when Vera answered the door with a lit cigarette in her hand.
“You can ask as many times as you want, but that doesn’t mean I have to listen. Your rules apply to your house, not mine.” She let Sullivan and Charity inside.
“I know that you love your granddaughter. Can you not smoke for her sake please?”
Vera grunted and crushed the cigarette in an ashtray.
Sullivan joined her on the sofa. “I take it Cliff’s not home.”
“You just missed him.”
“When? Three years ago? The only proof that I have that he even still lives here with you is that I can still smell the stench of his cigars.”
“How about the stench of the new car he just bought me, the one sitting out on the driveway? Is that proof enough for you?”
Sullivan shook her head in pity. “Anyway, Cliff and his mysterious whereabouts are the least of my concerns right now.”
“Oh, my grandbaby is getting so big!” Vera gathered Charity up into her arms. “How’s that husband of yours?”
“It’s funny you brought him up. Charles is exactly who I wanted to talk to you about.” Sullivan paused, giving another moment of thought to her question. “Do you think I could make it on my own? You know, be a single mother and raise Charity myself?”
“Why? Is Charles sick or something?”
“Sick of me, maybe.”
“Girl, what are you talking about?” She momentarily stopped smothering Charity with kisses. “You messin’ around on him again?”
“Vera, give me some credit.”
“I don’t believe in credit. I believe in showing me who you are and taking you at your word! You’ve already shown me who you are. Heck, with that Internet video, you showed the whole world.”
“Well, I’m not having an affair, if that’s what you’re worried about. This is far worse.”
“How so?”
“I think Charles has given up on me,” Sullivan confessed aloud for the first time. “I think we’ve both given up. Losing Christian did something—broke something—in our relationship. Our marriage has been held together with prayer, Band-Aids, and borrowed time for a while now. It may be time to face the truth about our situation.”
Vera shook her head. “You thinkin’ about leaving Charles? You’re a bigger fool than I thought you were!”
“I know you’re saying that because he’s rich, but contrary to your warped beliefs, money ain’t everything.”
“If that was the case, I’d tell you to divorce him, take half, and rack up more in child support and alimony.” Vera put Charity down. “Sullivan, it ain’t too many men I have more than an ounce of faith in, especially not so-called preachers. Just look at your triflin’ daddy. But Charles is different. Charles is the real thing. He’s a good man.”
“Charles is a good man, but no man’s irreplaceable. You taught me well, remember? I could have a new and improved Charles in no time.”
“Humph! That’s what you think!” Vera laughed a little. “You’re always asking me why I keep Cliff around. Yes, he’s a lyin’, good-for-nothing piece of . . . I won’t say it, because the baby’s right here. But out of all the no-good pieces, he’s about the best one I could find, so I’m holding on to him.”
“You could do so much better than Cliff! Anybody is better than Cliff. In fact, having nobody would be better than living with Cliff!”
“It ain’t that simple. I’m old now. I can’t pull ’em like I used to. Times are hard for an old ho like myself! And you gettin’ old too! You’re going on thirty-five, and thirty-five is a world away from twenty-five. If you know like I know, you better keep your behind at home!”
“But I’m not happy. Neither is Charles.”
“Happy? You act like being happy is like being black! You can’t choose the color of your skin, but you can choose whether or not to be happy. Shoot, if I was waiting on Cliff to make me happy, I’d be waiting forever! Girl, you better make yourself happy! Give me that big ole house you’re living in and that BMW you’re driving and a man like Charles, and I bet you I can be happy!”
“See? There you go, making it about materialistic things again. What good is the house and the car if the man I’m married to doesn’t understand me?”
“You worry about the wrong things, Sullivan. You always have. One thing I know about Charles is that he could’ve slammed the door on me a long time ago, and I wouldn’t have blamed him if he had. I’m sure you done bad-mouthed me so bad that he’s looking to see if I leave hoof prints behind when I walk by. But he’s never shown me anything except kindness, even after I showed out at your Christmas party and announced to the world that good ol’ Pastor Sammy Sullivan was your daddy. You don’t find that kind of man every day, and that ain’t got nothing to do with money. It’s just the goodness in him.”
“I’m not denying that he’s a good man. I just don’t know if he’s the right man for me. What if being married to me is keeping him from the woman God really wants him to be with? What if he’s keeping me from the man I’m destined to be with?”
“If you have a man who knows everything you’ve done—all your crimes, all your shortcomings, all your whorish ways—and he still wants to be with you, then that’s the right man for you. It’s hard to find somebody who accepts you the way you are.” Vera thought for a moment. “I’d like to think that’s how this Jesus is y’all keep yappin’ about, and Charles is the closest thing you’re going to find to Him on this side of heaven. You best hold on to him. Believe me—there are plenty of women who are a whole lot less trouble than you are who’ll have no problem sweeping up your leftovers.”
Sullivan yanked her hair in frustration. “I just don’t think I can get over what he did to our son. I wanted that baby more than anything, and Charles took him from me, literally had him ripped from my body. When he did that, a part of me died too. There’s an empty space inside of me that will never be filled again. How do I get over something like that?”
“Sullivan, let me tell you something. Christian is dead! He ain’t thinking about you, and he ain’t coming back. That’s all there is to it. Now, you can sit over here and be mad with Charles, lose your husband, have some other woman walking around in that big old house of yours. And you know what? That baby will still be dead! You’ve got to suck it up and move on.”
“Do you have to be so cruel, Vera?”
“Silly rabbit, I’m doing you a favor. I know what you’re going through. I lost a baby too, same way you did, in a car accident. And I blamed her daddy the same way you’re doing with Charles. The difference is Samuel Sullivan was trying to kill my baby. It nearly killed Charles to risk your child’s life. The only reason he did it—the only reason he did it—was to save your pathetic, selfish, ungrateful self. Now you have the nerve to sit up here and crucify this man for loving you more than he loved his own flesh and blood. You ought to thank God Charles hasn’t left you!”
Chapter 28
“One day, when he has children of his own that he’s actually
ready for, he will understand what I did and why
and will thank me for it.”
–Lawson Kerry Banks
“Take a deep breath,” Lawson told Shari, coaching her, in the car outside the abortion clinic. “You can do this.”
Shari nodded and did as she was told.
“We’re going to go in here. When you come out, all your problems will be behind you and you can go back to your regularly scheduled life, complete with your education, your freedom, parties, and just being a normal college student. You ready?”
“Yeah.” Shari opened the passenger door and stepped out.
Before they could reach the clinic’s entrance, they were met by Namon, who was livid.
“I don’t believe this!” he bellowed. “Seriously, Ma? You were going to have her go through with this without even telling me?”
Lawson’s heart sank. “Namon, what are you doing here?”
“Shutting down whatever you had planne
d.” He grabbed Shari by the hand. “Come on, Shari. Let’s get out of here!”
Shari clasped her arms around Namon’s neck. “I was so scared. I didn’t think you were gonna come.”
Lawson narrowed her eyes and pitched her stony gaze at Shari. “You called him?”
“She texted me and told me what was going on,” replied Namon. “She was terrified.”
“Namon, don’t be mad at me,” cried Shari. “I was just trying to make things easier on you.”
“Regardless of what you may think, Shari made this decision on her own. She’s doing what she thinks is best for everyone involved,” insisted Lawson.
Namon pulled away from Shari and confronted his mother head-on. “And just who convinced her that this was best? I’ve seen you do some questionable things, but this . . . baby killing? Not just any baby, your own grandchild! Who does that?”
“Namon, this baby is a mistake, and everybody knows it,” said Lawson. “We’re just trying to make the best of an already difficult situation.”
“We?” Namon shot back. “There is no we! There’s just you and you being lowdown enough to try to trick Shari. How could you do that?”
“Babe, can we just get out of here?” pleaded Shari. “I hate this place.”
“Yeah.” He turned to leave, with Shari in tow.
“Namon, wait!” commanded Lawson. “We’ve got to talk about this.”
Namon faced his mother. “I ain’t got nothing to say to you.” Then he turned on his heels, and he and Shari headed to his car, climbed in, and drove away.
Lawson walked briskly back to her car, got behind the wheel, and hurried home. When she pulled into the driveway, Namon and Shari were getting out of Namon’s car. Lawson followed Namon into their house, trying to plead her case. Namon ignored her, stormed into his room, and began packing his belongings.
“How long do you think you can go without talking to me?” said Lawson as she entered Namon’s bedroom.
