Dana took the list and cash and rudely shoved past Terence. “I ought to scratch your eyes out for the way you’re treating me. I am Miss Jamaica, and I left my country and a lot of willing men to come see you.”
Terence curled his lips in contempt but by now had calmed enough not to dignify her with a response. As soon as he heard the front door slam, Terence rounded on his mother, “What in God’s name were you thinking when you invited that woman here?”
“What do you mean what I was thinking? You were the one who told me about your little escapade,” Francine accused. She pointed her index finger at him. “You were the one who got yourself into this mess. Not me.”
Terence acquiesced. “Yes, Mother. I did it. I fooled around with another woman while I was on my honeymoon, and stupidly, I called my own mother for guidance and some much-needed advice. Exposing me like this is how you repay me for trusting you?”
“You gave me the ammunition,” Francine stubbornly replied without any sign of remorse. “I simply decided to use it.”
“On your own son,” Terence said miserably. “Mother, how could you? You destroyed my marriage to a wonderful woman.”
“A harlot is more like it,” Francine scoffed. “Terence, you’re about to become a minister, which is your lifelong dream. I did what I thought was in your best interest. Colleen would never have made a good minister’s wife.”
“And Dana will?” Terence asked with disbelief.
“Of course not,” Francine retorted. “That woman would be outrageous. She was only the tool I used to get the job done. Nothing else.”
“Listen to you,” Terence said with disgust. “Mother, you would use anyone and anything to get what you want. It’s always about you and what you want. You would even attack me, your own son, to get your way.”
“That’s not how it is,” Francine denied with a huff. “Terence, you’re upset, and you’re obviously not thinking straight. You used to agree with me that Colleen was not a pastor’s wife.”
“Used to, Mother,” Terence rebutted. “As in not anymore . Colleen’s perfect for me. She completes me. She helped me come to terms with a lot of things, Mother. She made me free to be me.”
“Free? That woman had you in bondage,” Francine countered, spitefully.
“No!” Terence shouted, which was uncharacteristic of him. He was always in control, but he was past the breaking point. He saw his mother’s head whip backward in shock.
Francine shouted back. “Listen to you now. This is what Colleen is doing to you. She’s changing my good little boy into a raving maniac.”
Terence grabbed his mother’s arms. “No, Mother, Colleen didn’t do anything. You did!”
“Me?” He saw Francine clutch her heart. “What did I do?”
Terence released his mother and took a deep breath. He strove to conquer his swirling emotions and to bring himself under control. He had to be able to carry on a rational conversation with his mother. “Let me start over,” Terence said calmly. “Mother, I’m going to be totally honest with you. I don’t want to be a minister because deep down, I know that I’m not minister material. I cheated on my wife on my honeymoon, for heaven’s sake. Does that sound like someone who should be in a leadership position and in God’s church? A minister must be blameless.”
“Well,” Francine insisted, “it was all her fault. I put the blame on her shoulders. She drove you to do that. It wasn’t your fault.”
“Yes, Mother,” Terence said, “it was. It was entirely my fault. I was the dirty snake who cheated on a good woman for no reason.” Terence sat down having spent a lot of energy. “I was just a coward to let you continually condemn Colleen for my horrible actions. I’m going to contact the bishop later and let him know of my resignation.”
“No!” Francine cried. She pleaded with her son, “Don’t do that! After all my hard work, you can’t back out now. I didn’t raise you to be a quitter.”
“Are you listening to yourself?” Terence somberly asked his mother. “The pastoral position was your dream, not mine. Mother, don’t you think it’s time for you to take some accountability for your actions?”
“What do you mean?” Francine asked, feeling totally lost.
“Well, for starters,” Terence answered, “you can take responsibility for what you did to me all those years ago, Mother.”
Caught off guard, Francine held her chest and stumbled into the chair. His statement had come from left field and had dropped her on her rear end. She felt as if she’d been sucker punched.
Before she could say anything, Terence recounted all the events from his childhood, and Francine was forced to relive every hideous moment. When Terence was finished, he looked at her expectantly. She knew that he wanted—no—needed—her to confirm and confess. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t come face-to-face with the person she once was. Francine had done a lot to transform herself, and she wasn’t ready to expose herself and divulge anything from her past. If she confirmed his stories as fact, Terence would only have more questions. Questions that she wasn’t ready to answer.
So Francine denied everything. “Terence, that story you’ve concocted is all a figment of your overactive imagination. Or maybe that woman helped you conjure up such a spiteful and hateful story against me.”
Terence studied her intently, and she resisted the urge to squirm. She wasn’t admitting to anything. He looked her in the eyes. “You know what I just realized? You’re not lying to me. You’re lying to yourself. You need to believe that you’re squeaky clean and innocent, because then, you can hold onto your condescension, putting on airs, and justifying your selfish and nasty actions.”
Francine couldn’t respond to his sentiment. Instead, she reminded him, “I’m your mother, and no one has ever loved you the way that I have.”
She felt his keen disappointment. “Mom, there is no hope for you. You don’t want to change. Because if you expect me to believe that you really love me after all your evil machinations, then you’re seriously deluded.”
Terence left Francine shaken and filled with doubts. She now knew that she had lost her son. She belatedly realized that she hadn’t lost him before, when he and Colleen had gotten married. No, it was not until that very moment that she had truly lost Terence. She felt bereft, as if there were now a hole where her heart used to be. His marriage had not precipitated this feeling. Her own selfish and stupid pride had done it.
Francine placed her head in her hands and sobbed.
Chapter Thirty
Here it is.
In a hurry last night, Keith had left his cell phone in its charger. Michael must have been blowing up his phone. He glanced at the clock. It was a little past seven a.m.
He had done well on his word and had made love to Gina throughout the night. He’d left her satiated and asleep. Michael had been the sole reason he’d torn himself from the comfort of her arms.
What was he going to tell his brother? Now that the light of day was setting in, Keith was experiencing second thoughts. He felt guilt that bore down on his shoulders.
He’d never done anything like this before in his life. But he had done it. He had betrayed his very own flesh and blood.
Michael would be beyond hurt, of that there was no doubt. Eventually, his brother might find it in his heart to forgive him, but Keith didn’t know if he’d be able to forgive himself.
He looked at the picture he had on the mantle of both he and his brother. He studied the picture intensely. Michael had such a look of absolute love and trust on his face, and he had destroyed that.
Keith bent his head. He reached into his back pocket and took out a picture of Gina that he’d swiped earlier from her coffee table. They had shared an unforgettable night. He looked back and forth between both pictures, indecisive and unsure. “What do I do?”
He loved Gina, of that there was no doubt. She was like water to him. He just had to have her. But what was the price he had to pay?
He felt an urgent need to call his brother. Just
to hear his voice. He called Michael’s cell phone. It was ringing. Someone answered his telephone.
There was so much chaos on the other end that it took a few minutes for Keith to decipher what was being said. He finally made out that the other person on the end was saying something about a bad accident . . . “A man was driving . . . he crashed into a stop sign . . . was now unconscious . . . Long Island Jewish . . .”
Keith put the pieces together in his mind. Oh my God! Michael!
He speed dialed Gina and told her what happened. He then called his mother in Atlanta. She would be on the next flight.
It took a half hour to get from his house to the emergency room at Long Island Jewish. Frantic with worry, he cursed himself with every filthy name that he could think of. If his brother died, he knew that he would never be able to live with himself. He prayed and begged God to spare Michael’s life.
When Geraldine “Gerry” Ward entered Michael’s hospital room, Keith’s arms were wrapped around Gina.
“Keith!”
Keith tensed, recognizing the voice. He broke contact with Gina. “Mom!” Then in two swift strides, he ran over to his mother and picked her up and swung her in a huge embrace. She released all her fright with two great sobs before regaining her composure.
Gina retrieved some tissues for Keith’s mother, handed them to her, and went over to the window to give them a moment together.
“How is he?” Geraldine asked with a shaky voice.
“He’s better than he looks,” Keith said. “At least that’s what the doctor told us. But come meet Gina.”
Keith led his mother over to Gina and performed the necessary introductions. His mother took stock of the other woman.
“I wish that when we had finally met, it would have been under better circumstances,” Gerry entreated, putting her hand out.
“Me too,” Gina responded tearfully.
Gerry turned toward Michael and cried, “He looks horrible. His face is so puffy that I barely recognize him.”
“I know, Mom. Michael’s been unconscious since they brought him in and has remained in that state. It’s been five hours. The doctors said that he had suffered a tremendous blow to his head because he had not been wearing a seat belt.”
Michael was always a safe driver but must have been too consumed with losing Gina to think straight.
Keith left his mother’s side and went to stand by the window. Guilt whipped him. He didn’t think he could continue living if his brother died. It would be his fault. He’d let his feelings for Gina block out all rational thought and behavior, and he was about to pay a huge price.
He saw Gina left the room and excused himself to join her. His long legs moved with speed to catch up to her. He hugged her tightly, knowing that she was the only other person who could truly understand the torturous emotions raging through his body.
Gina and Keith consoled each other and went into an empty room away from prying eyes and ears. They sat on the bed. Memories assailed them at the same time. Keith stifled a curse word and moved away to lean against the wall, burying his head in his hands.
“I . . .” Gina began. Keith turned to look at her. She stopped and closed her eyes. Then she continued, as tears streamed down her face, “I feel so . . . so . . . On my way here, I couldn’t help it. I had to pull over to the side of the road to vomit.”
In two strides, Keith was in front of her. He fell to the floor and placed his head in Gina’s lap. He felt her place one of her hands on his head and another stroked his cheek in comfort. “I can’t lose him,” he wailed. He released his pain and soaked Gina’s denim skirt with his tears.
“I know,” Gina soothed. “Keith, listen to me.” She gently lifted his head and made him look at her. Again, she closed her eyes. Keith knew it was because she couldn’t look at his guilt-ridden face and bleak eyes, for they reflected the emotions she faced. “It never happened,” she whispered. “Do you hear me?”
He shook his head, not understanding. “What are you saying?”
“It never happened,” Gina’s eyes popped open and pinned him with their intensity. She frantically commanded, “Say it.”
Keith looked at the woman that he loved. How could he begin to deny what he felt for her in his heart? “I love you,” he said.
“I know you do,” Gina replied. She grabbed his face in her hands to capture his attention. “But look what happened. Look what happened. Ugh!” Abruptly, she released him.
He knew that Gina was right. Michael was possibly on his deathbed. It wasn’t the time for selfishness. It was time for sacrifice. He hung his head in defeat. Then Keith rose to his knees and cradled Gina’s face in his hands. “How can you ask me to do this?” he whispered. “How can you ask me to deny what’s in my very core?” He sobbed, but didn’t wait for an answer. Instead, he kissed her with passion, telling her good-bye.
Their tears flowed, but this time it was for the love that they knew that they could never have. Not now. A life hung in the balance.
Keith gathered the courage to pull away. His heart ached as if it were being ripped out of his chest. But he knew that it was for the best. He was audacious to even kiss her at a time like this.
Michael needed Gina. She would pull him back to consciousness. He was sure of it. “It never happened,” Keith repeated her words, letting her know that he would go along with her demand. Heart-wrenching pain inflicted his very soul.
Gina nodded and stood. She brushed at her skirt and pulled at her white blouse to smooth out the wrinkles. Without another word, she exited into the hall. This time, Keith let her go.
He remained where he was until his mother found him. He felt broken and bruised and sore. He’d just fought the battle of his life, and he’d lost. “Keith, what is it?” she asked. Holding his raw emotions at bay, he snatched his mother and cradled himself in her arms. For a brief moment, he savored the comfort only a mother could give before releasing her to give her a shaky smile.
“There’s more going on here, isn’t there? I see distress written all over your face. Michael will be all right,” Gerry soothed. “God’s not ready for him yet.” She looked around. “Where did Gina go? I thought she was with you.”
He knew that she had seen the two of them embracing when she first entered the room. His mother had put two and two together. Keith looked at his mother with a wide stare. He knew that she knew, but she didn’t mention it. Thank God she had obviously decided to take pity on him and let things rest.
It never happened . . . It never happened . . . Keith echoed that sentiment over and over in his mind. He would keep doing it until his heart believed it.
Gina ran into the ladies’ room and into one of the stalls. She had barely locked the door before the dam loosed and the tears exploded. She cried and cried. She cried for Michael. She cried for Keith. Mostly, she cried for herself. She had finally known love, only to lose it in a twist of fate. Yet, she knew that she’d made the right decision. This way, she would always be able to live with herself.
She pulled herself together and returned to Michael’s bedside. She took his hands into hers. “Michael Ward, this is not the way to get me to forgive you,” Gina reprimanded. “Almost killing yourself... I am so mad at you.” Then she belied her words by sniffling. “Oh, Michael, I love you,” she said. “I love you, I love you. Did you hear me? Don’t you dare die.”
She turned around to look at Keith, having heard the door open. “I’m sorry,” Gina said. There was no way he hadn’t heard her telling Michael that she loved him.
Keith swiped at his eyes. “Don’t be,” he urged. Then he changed the subject. “My mother went to get some coffee. Do you want anything?”
“No,” Gina answered, shaking her head. “Thank you. But I couldn’t swallow anything right now.”
“Gina,” he said, “I feel tacky saying this right now, but . . .”
She tensed but waited for him to go on.
“I’m sorry about a lot of things, but I’m not sor
ry about the way that I feel. For just a brief moment, I was allowed to rediscover love, and for that, I will never be sorry.”
His words stayed with her.
All through the night, Gina tossed and turned on the couch in the waiting area, pondering his departing comment. At about four o’clock in the morning, she decided to use the complimentary phone provided in the room to check her messages since her cell had long died.
There were three from Colleen. Gina made a mental note to call her back as soon as possible. She just couldn’t leave Michael’s side yet. She hung up the phone and returned to Michael’s room.
Keith and his mom were engaged in deep discussion. His mother was urging him to leave and to take Gina home.
“I’ll be all right.” Gerry waved her hands to ward off any more objections from her son. “Take Gina home so she can shower and change. Make sure she eats something as well. Then get yourself a shower. You two need some rest. Come back in a couple of hours. If anything changes, I’ll call.”
“Come on. There’s no use arguing with my mother once she’s made up her mind.” Without realizing it, Keith took Gina’s hand, and they left the room. He led her out to the parking lot and opened his car door for her. Dazed, Gina let him take over because she was exhausted and hunger pangs bit at her stomach.
When he pulled up to her house, she remembered what had happened between them just hours ago. “Oh, God,” Gina cried. She put her fist in her mouth to contain her emotions. “It’s all coming back to me. While we were . . . were . . . He was probably on his way here. This is all my fault.”
Keith gripped her shoulders. “Gina! Stop it.” He commanded forcefully. “This was not your fault. It wasn’t my fault either.”
Gina’s expression showed that she did not believe him at all.
Keith reminded her, “Let’s not forget about Michael’s part in all this, okay? He deceived you by not telling you about Karen. That’s why you were not with him.”
He could see that he was not getting through to her. Gina was too consumed with self-recrimination to think rationally. “Listen, stop blaming yourself. If you want to blame anybody, blame me. I never should have said anything to you about how I feel . . . I should have left you alone.”
Walk a Straight Line Page 19
