Sin

by Violetta Rand

  “I’ll be back, Macey.”

  “I won’t be here,” she shoots back.

  “If you aren’t, I’ll find you…”

  —

  I’m too upset to feel anything as I drive to Robyn’s house. Suddenly Joshua reappears, has sex with me, reveals too many secrets at once for me to process, then expects me to accept everything he and Bishop decided without question? Not in my world. I pull into Robyn’s driveway and shut off the ignition. When I look up, my girl is standing in the garage, waving. She looks so happy, so pregnant. So everything I want to be. I sigh and climb out of the car. The minute she reaches me, I start weeping.

  “What happened?” She pulls me into a hug. “Joshua?”

  “More like the first plague of the apocalypse,” I sniff. “Julia drugged me on Valentine’s Day.”

  She pulls back, staring at me, astonished. “What?”

  “With Ambien she stole from Bishop’s medicine cabinet. She drugged him, too. Used both of us so she could reconcile with Joshua.” I don’t hold back; I explain everything that’s transpired over the last three days. “And Joshua thinks rehab is punishment enough.”

  “Depends on what kind of message you’re trying to send, Macey,” she says calmly. “If Julia is clinically depressed, time in county jail isn’t going to heal her. How many times do we see addicts get out only to fall off the wagon again? Jails are overcrowded, and there’s little to no funds left to provide proper care for inmates who need psychological help.”

  “Since when did you become such an expert?” I half tease, knowing there’s truth in what she says.

  “Since I grew up in a household with a mother who worked in a profession that deals directly with addicts and their innocent children.” She massages her stomach, loving her unborn child. “I can’t imagine what you’ve been through. But I can’t say I disagree with Joshua and Dr. Singletary.”

  “We’ll agree to disagree,” I say, grasping her hand. “As for there ever being another chance for Joshua and me, guess I took care of that, huh?”

  She nods, looking so sad. “Don’t live your life for anyone else, Macey.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Let’s go inside,” she says. “Dinner is on the table.”

  “Where’s Garrick?” I ask. His truck is missing. “Working again?”

  “Yes.” Every chance he gets. Once the baby comes, he plans on taking six months off—extended family leave.”

  “I like the way your husband thinks.”

  “I can’t imagine what it’s going to be like having two babies in the house at the same time.” We laugh and sit down at the table together. There’s chicken cacciatore and salad waiting. She serves me sparkling white grape juice in a crystal wineglass. “Cheers to everything your heart desires, Macey. You helped make my dreams come true—now may you get the same.”

  “Salud,” I say, clinking my glass against hers. I just sent my dream packing, and if I were him, I’d never look back.

  —

  By Thursday I finally figure out what to do. Being parted from the woman I love isn’t a goddamned option. I’m going crazy. My private and professional lives are suffering. My heart is broken. When I text or call Macey, she never answers. Silence is the worst thing I’ve ever endured. And I won’t take it much longer. I arrive at work early to talk to Glenda. Even though the last private conversation we had ended badly, I know she’ll help me. Especially when I reveal my plan.

  I walk through the door, Eric Clapton blaring from the speakers. I swear the woman is stuck in the eighties.

  “Good morning, Glenda.”

  “Sir.”

  I laugh, ready to put an end to this cold formality. “I’m a stupid asshole.”

  She doesn’t respond, just keeps slicing lemons.

  “I said I’m a stupid asshole,” I repeat louder.

  “What’s that do for me or Macey?” she asks, pointing the paring knife at me.

  “I want to marry her.”

  She drops the implement, removes her apron, then rushes around the front of the bar. “Say it again.” She gazes up at me.

  “I want to spend my life making her happy.”

  I’m instantly pressed against her big boobs. She chuckles, pats my ass, then pulls away, a smile plastered on her face. “Did you tell her yet?”

  We discuss everything over a cup of coffee. And I hope this is the last person I’ll have to explain myself to for a long time.

  She shakes her head. “Macey has a bad temper.”

  “Yeah,” I agree. “So do I.”

  “Then you deserve each other.” She jabs me with her elbow. “So what’s this big plan and how can I help?”

  —

  How could I refuse Glenda after everything she’s done for me over the years? And now, hoping to make me feel better, she’s made reservations for us at the Omni Corpus Christi Hotel, in the presidential suite, a two-level 1,800-square-foot apartment with a private sauna and hot tub. And arranged for massages. I nearly choked when she invited me, knowing how much this set her back. I leave my car with the parking attendant and head to the lobby, then take the elevator to the eighteenth floor.

  I knock on the door and she opens it, smiling. “Welcome to your home away from home, sweetie.” She gives me a crushing hug. “Get in here.” She yanks my overnight bag out of my hands.

  There’s soft classical music playing in the background. There are at least eight bouquets of roses and dozens of candles burning in the dining room and living area. The drapes are drawn on the main balcony doors and I stare out the glass, mesmerized by the city lights and water. She joins me, offering me a chocolate-covered strawberry. I eat one, losing myself in the perfect mix of juicy sweetness. Then she gives me a glass of red wine.

  “Are you wooing me, Glenda?” I take a sip.

  She chuckles. “If I weren’t married…”

  “I’m not sure about dating older women,” I joke.

  “Listen, little girl, I know everything that happened between you and Joshua.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Maybe you need to,” she says. “All these years you’ve held everything inside, and what good has it done you? The minute anyone of the male persuasion gets too close, you bolt or push him away.”

  “Not with Joshua.”

  “No?” she asks, her brow jutting upward. “Then why are you here with me?”

  “Because it’s safe.”

  Someone knocks on the door. Glenda answers. An attendant rolls in a service table laden with covered platters. She tips him and he leaves. I scoot closer, curious to see what she has planned for tonight. She uncovers all the plates, revealing grapes and cheese, bruschetta, fresh vegetables, spiced Italian meats, and a tray of bonbons. There are even two bottles of Dom Perignon. I pick one up and look at the vintage.

  “Glenda!”

  “What?”

  “This is a thousand-dollar bottle of Champagne.”

  She shrugs. “So?”

  “What’s going on?” My suspicions have peaked at this point. “You don’t have this kind of money to spend. Please, send it back.”

  “Instead of complaining, why don’t you go slip into something a little more comfortable? I believe there’s something waiting for you in the master suite bathroom.”

  “Girls’ night, huh?”

  “All right,” she says. “I left a few details out. Consider it a complete spoil-the-shit-out-of-Macey kind of night. Don’t fuss or worry about how I’m paying for it.”

  When she puts it like that, her big smile warming my heart, I can’t deny her. She’s always enjoyed giving more than she does receiving. At Christmastime, she’s nuts. “I surrender.”

  “Good.” She hands me my bag. “Go change.”

  I walk down a long hallway, past a sitting room, and into the master suite. The bed is gargantuan, dressed with a silk comforter and matching pillows. Again there are candles burning and I smile, touched by her attempt to make me
feel better. There are two dozen white roses on the dresser and I stop to appreciate the scent. I love flowers. Glenda knows that. I drop my bag on the bed, then go into the bathroom. There’s a Jean Yu gift box on the counter. How does Glenda know about one of the top lingerie designers? I open it, finding a forest-green silk chiffon bra and shorts. Underneath, there’s a matching half-robe. My God. Again my instinct is to march into the dining room and chastise her. But I made a promise. No complaining tonight. But in the morning…

  I quickly shed my sandals, jeans, and blouse, then sigh in ecstasy as I feel the luxurious fabric of my new lingerie against my skin. It’s a perfect cut, the baby-doll shorts covering only half of my cheeks. I check myself in the full-length mirror, admiring the color against my tan skin. The robe fits perfectly, too. Refreshing my makeup, trying to play the role of the spoiled goddess Glenda obviously wants me to be, I pad down the hallway, joining her in the dining room again.

  The table is set now—the perfect service for two.

  Glenda inspects me head to toe. “You look so beautiful.”

  “Thank you.” I’m practically speechless, grateful this sweet and caring woman came into my life so long ago. Tears well in my eyes as I embrace her. “Thank you,” I whisper again.

  “Listen, princess.” She pulls back. “I forgot my bag downstairs. Mind if I go get it? I bought a special nightie for myself.”

  “Silk?” I ask, knowing she prefers flannel over everything else.

  “Cotton.”

  I laugh. “Go ahead, it’s not like I’m in any hurry. I’ll hang out on the balcony.”

  I watch her leave, steal a grape, pop it in my mouth, then head for the glass doors, stepping outside. A surprising sense of peace settles over me. Maybe it’s because I realize I’m not alone. With friends like Glenda, Robyn, Marisela, and Dave, I can’t fail. Not anymore. And the papers inside my overnight bag, the ones confirming I passed all four of the GED tests without studying, confirm what my mother always told me. You’re clever and smart, Macey—don’t ever forget it. I stare heavenward into a cloudless nighttime sky, hoping she can see and hear me, knowing she’s with the angels.

  “It took forever, Mom, but I did it, for you.” Warmth radiates through my body. Another tear trails down my cheek. “Wish you could be here…”

  “I’m here, Macey.”

  I twirl around. Joshua is standing in the doorway, shirtless and wearing a pair of dark blue silk pajama bottoms, looking as edible and handsome as I’ve ever seen. My heart somersaults and my mouth goes dry. I lick my bottom lip, suddenly realizing how trapped I am. “What. Are. You. Doing. Here?”

  He steps outside, only a foot between us. “Do you really need me to tell you?” He reaches out, using two fingers to lazily untie the belt around my robe. It falls open, revealing the swell of my breasts, ridiculously accentuated by the cut of the bra. I shiver at the brief contact. I sag against the railing behind me, gazing into his hungry eyes.

  I shake my head, suddenly aware that I’m eighteen stories high, on display for the whole world to see. Maybe there’s a drone lurking overhead, waiting for a woman like me to get half-naked to snap photos that will be plastered all over social media by morning.

  I get lost in his green eyes. Slowly, I slip my arms out of the beautiful robe and hand it to him. “Glenda didn’t buy that for me, did she? Or the flowers? Or the food? Or this lovely room?”

  He smiles. “No, but you should give her full credit for luring you into my trap.”

  “Trap?”

  “Yes, darlin’.” He gives me a roguish grin, leaning in, settling his soft lips on mine. “I love you, Macey. Forgive me for not telling you sooner.”

  Did I hear him correctly? “You love me?”

  He places my hand over his heart. “Feel it? Every breath I take is for you.”

  Our gazes lock. I feel dizzy and breathless.

  “I want to know everything about you, Macey. All your secrets. What you love and what makes you smile.”

  “You make me smile.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.” He massages my arms. “Do you trust me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you believe I’m never going to leave you?”

  I nod.

  “Do you want to be part of my family?”

  “Wh-what?”

  “I know you’ve struggled to find your place in this world. And I admit, I don’t know how you managed to endure the pain of losing your parents on your own. You’re so resilient, so very strong. So incredibly beautiful and intelligent. Let me shoulder some of that pain now.”

  “But since you’ve come into my life, a lot of that pain has faded.”

  He looks down at me, like he’s trying to read my mind. “You can tell me anything.”

  “I know. I just don’t live in the past, Joshua. If I did, I’d never be where I am today. Something my mother taught me early on. And I’ve honored her memory by staying true to that philosophy. Understand?”

  “Completely.” He embraces me. “Come inside, baby.” He gently leads me off the balcony, through the living area, and to the table. Heat rolls off his body, and those silk bottoms hide nothing, his excitement blatantly obvious. He makes quick work of opening one of the bottles of Champagne, offers me a glass, then watches me take several hurried sips. My head is spinning.

  “Did you hear me before, Macey?” he asks. “I love you.”

  My bottom lip quivers, because I regret everything that happened the other day when he came over. I set the glass on the table, fighting the fear surging inside me. He deserves the truth. “I love you.” It’s barely perceptible, but I mean it. So much so, a new round of tears falls.

  But I know he heard me, because that’s when he drops on one knee in front of me, holding that beautiful sapphire ring up. “Marry me. Complete me.”

  I nod, resting my hands over his. We’re both silent and trembling, the air around us electrified with passion and pure love. I hold my hand up then, and he slips the ring on. A perfect fit. The remains of my defensive wall crash to the ground. I no longer control my own destiny. I belong to Joshua and he belongs to me. He slowly rises, his eyes blazing, promising unspoken pleasure through the night and likely well into the next day. We have time to make up for, things to say, something to prove to one another.

  “From the first time I met you, set eyes on you—I loved you,” he says hoarsely, overcome with emotion. He takes my hand, holding it up, admiring the ring. “You’re mine now.”

  “Forever?” I ask.

  “Always.”

  “Oh, Joshua.” I throw myself at him and he wraps his protective arms around me, lifting me off my feet.

  When he finally sets me down, I smile. “I have a surprise for you. Wait here.” I run down the hallway to the bedroom, rummage through my bag, and grab my test papers. By the time I reach Joshua again, I’m breathless. “Here.”

  He takes them, reading slowly. “The top five percentile nationwide?” He stares at me, swelling with pride. “When did you have time to take your GED?”

  “Wednesday and today.”

  He places the papers on the table. “I always knew how smart you were. And I’m so proud, so happy you decided to give yourself a chance. What’s next?” he teases. “A PhD?”

  “Interior design?” I ask, seeking his approval.

  “Basket-weaving if that’s what makes you happy.” He kisses me. “Since this is a night filled with surprises, allow me to indulge you one more time.”

  I give him a questioning look. What more could this perfect man possibly have in store for me? He points to an envelope on the table. I gaze at it, then back at him. “What is it?”

  “Open it.”

  Hands trembling, I do. It’s a bill of sale for the house I made an offer on. “Oh. My. God. Joshua?” I scream excitedly. “How? When? Who told you?”

  “Simon.”

  Speechless, I stare at the document again, wondering how this all happened. “Am I dreaming?”

&n
bsp; “No,” he says, plucking the paper from my hand. “I sold my condo to Bishop yesterday and paid the house off today. We can move in soon. Free and clear—our home. Our new life.” He lowers his lips to mine, kissing me ravenously, sucking the air from my lungs. “And now the final surprise.” I’m swept off my feet and carried to the master suite. “Let me make you scream.”

  Epilogue

  SIX MONTHS LATER…

  I check my watch, anxious for class to be over. I stare at the whiteboard at the head of the classroom, pretending to read the notes, my professor calling on random students to answer questions from the practice test. Finals for my first semester in design school start next week.

  “Ms. Camden,” she calls. “Since you’re in such a hurry, if you can answer this question correctly, I’ll let you go fifteen minutes early.”

  I smile, still loving the idea of being called Ms. Camden, though I prefer the traditional way more—Mrs. Camden just sounds so perfect. “Deal,” I say.

  “What do you call the horizontal member a contractor places over a large opening to support the load above a wall?”

  I roll my eyes. “The lintel,” I answer, collecting my books and shoving them in my backpack.

  “Dismissed,” she says, knowing perfectly well I’m a happy newlywed.

  I race down the hallway, practically break my neck on the stairs, and slam the doors open, cupping my eyes as soon as I get outside. It’s Friday, the middle of August, and Joshua and I are spending the weekend at Big Shell. A tent, cooler, fishing rods, and clothes are optional. My gaze sweeps the parking lot, finding my black Jeep illegally parked, my husband leaning against the passenger door, arms crossed over his chest, sunglasses hiding his beautiful green eyes. But I know what he’s staring at: me.

  I shove my backpack higher up on my arm, walking swiftly toward him. “Joshua.”

  “Hey, baby.” He meets me halfway to the car, lifting me off my feet, does a 180, then gently sets me down. “Ready to hit the beach?”

  “So ready.”

  He takes my bag, opens the door for me, closes it, then heads to the driver’s side. “Out early again?” He starts the car.