“Well, the invitation was the least I could do after you fitted me in for an appointment today. With the job at the bookstore, there was no way I could make that appointment with Dawn.”
“No problem. As you can see, I didn’t have anything else to do.” Dolores sipped from her glass of diet Coke. “I have even more free time now that Monika’s old enough to entertain herself.”
“I can’t even imagine rearing a child alone. You’ve done a wonderful job with Monika.”
“These days I wonder about that,” Dolores said.
“You’re thinking about her father?”
Dolores cupped her hands around the sweating glass of soda. She hadn’t thought about much else for the last few weeks. How could she? “I’ve been doing a lot of that lately. I used to wonder how people who once loved each other could come to hate each other. Now I know.”
Francine reached a hand across the table and her friend grasped it. “You have every reason to hate him, Dolores.”
Dolores lifted a brow. “That doesn’t sound very Christian.”
Francine removed her hand and sat back in her bench seat. “I know,” she said. “But some things, some actions, are deserving of our hate. Sometimes it’s hard to separate the person from the act.”
“You’re telling me. You know, I could slap him silly. I really could. I think if I were a violent person, I would kill him. Not for what happened between us—no, I assume responsibility for my role in that—but for what he’s doing to Monika. His lack of concern for her and how it affects her, for that, I think I could kill him. I really do.”
“But you won’t,” Francine said.
Dolores released a long, soulful sigh. “No, I won’t.”
“But you can make him accountable.”
Dolores met Francine’s gaze. “How?”
“By refusing to keep his secret.” Francine leaned forward. “Don’t you see, Dolores? You’re letting him get away scot-free.”
“But what can I do that won’t hurt Monika? I have to think about her. I am thinking about her.”
“I know you are. I know you have to. You wouldn’t be the good mother you are if you didn’t. But she’s hurt anyway. You’re hurt. And he goes on with his life. There’s no way that’s right.”
“I know but—”
“No buts,” Francine said. “He has to be stopped and you have the power to do it.”
“I already talked to him. He told me what he’d do if I told Monika. I can’t allow that to happen. I’m going to try talking to him again. Maybe he’ll change his mind. He’s not a totally bad person.”
Francine let her skepticism show in her eyes.
“Well, he’s not,” Dolores insisted.
“That’s not what you were saying a minute ago.”
“Why are you pressing me about this? It’s my decision.”
“Because I don’t want you to look back on this and wish you had done something. That’s an awful feeling, Dolores. I know. I’ve been there. I am there.”
“I’m sorry, Francine. I forgot about what you went through with your friend, but that was different. It really was.”
Francine shook her head. “I don’t think it was that different. Your story is a lot like Toni’s. A pastor she loved took advantage of his relationship with her and she ended up pregnant.”
“That’s why she killed herself?”
Francine looked away, unable to meet Dolores’s eyes. “No, she killed herself because she knew no one would believe her. She had no one to stand with her against him. He was the one with the good reputation, so who would believe her? I didn’t and I’ll always regret it.” She met Dolores’s gaze. “I don’t want you to have that regret at some point down the road.”
Dolores studied her glass of diet Coke. “So what happened when you exposed that pastor?”
“I didn’t. He’s still there, still bishop. The negative publicity surrounding Toni’s death made them go underground for a while, but they’ll resurface. No doubt they’re saying they’re suffering because of the gospel.”
Dolores looked at her. “Why didn’t you expose him?”
“I couldn’t. Who would believe me? He’d already gotten the congregation to buy into his spin on the story before Toni’s death. In some ways, I was like Toni. I stood alone against him.”
“The same way I’d be alone.”
Francine shook her head. “It’s not the same at all. You’d have me, and Stuart, and Mother Harris with you, just to name a few. You wouldn’t be alone at all.”
“You make it sound so simple.”
“I know it’s not simple, Dolores. I know it’s not easy. It’s hard. Probably the hardest thing you’ll ever do.”
A part of Dolores wanted to expose Teddy, but she knew her motives related more to making him pay for not acknowledging his daughter than they did to doing the right thing. “I’ll think about it,” she said. “That’s all I can promise.”
Francine reached for her hand. “Why don’t you pray about it too?”
“I can do that.”
Francine sat back in her seat. “Good.” She released Dolores’s hand and dipped into her ice cream again. “Still glad you came out to the movies with me?”
Dolores smiled. “Yeah,” she said. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been out to the movies on Saturday night without a date.”
Francine chuckled. “I know what you mean. I betcha some of the people in the theater thought I was your date.”
Dolores laughed. “They probably did. There was a time when thoughts like that would have kept me home on a Saturday night rather than going out with a girlfriend. I thank God that a little bit of wisdom comes with getting older.”
“Amen to that.”
Dolores sipped from her drink. “So, are you seeing anybody?”
Francine thought about Stuart and shook her head. “You?”
“Nah, and it’s been a while. I’ve almost given up on meeting Mr. Right or even Mr. Almost Right. Doesn’t Sylvester know any worthwhile eligible men?”
Again, Francine thought about Stuart. “Now, you know I don’t want my sister and brother-in-law playing matchmaker,” she said. “I don’t even want to go there.”
Dolores laughed. “I know what you mean.” She paused. “What about Stuart?”
“What about him?”
Dolores shrugged. “I wondered if maybe something was going on between you two. He’s an available brother.”
Francine smiled at her friend. “Are you interested in him? You’ve known him longer than I have.”
“To be honest,” Dolores said, “for a hot minute after his wife died, it crossed my mind. But Marie is still too close to my heart for me to even consider it. You never met Marie, so you don’t have that hindrance.”
Francine thought about the plans she and Stuart had to see Sister Betty. “Well, Stuart and I are just friends.”
“That’s the best place to start.”
“Don’t even try it,” Francine said. “Stuart and I are friends. In case you haven’t noticed, he’s still wearing his wedding ring. He’s obviously not ready for a relationship and I’m not sure I am either.”
Dolores shrugged. “If you say so.”
“I say so.”
Chapter 20
Don’t do this, her spirit warned, but Dawn ignored its counsel. “Nothing’s going to happen,” she said aloud as she drove her car into the parking lot of Friendly’s, where she was to meet Walter. When she pulled into a parking space away from the door, she noticed that he pulled in next to her. He quickly got out of his car and opened her door.
“Hungry?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Not really.”
“Then let’s walk instead of going inside. There’s a nice breeze.”
She fell into step with him, again ignoring the warning bells issued by her conscience. The parking lot was over half empty, so they had plenty of room to roam.
“It’s been a while,” he said. “After th
at Sunday, I’m surprised you’re still speaking to me.”
She cut him a sideways glance. “Sly was wrong to raise his hand to you, but you did push him. I think you wanted him to hit you so you’d have an excuse to hit him back. You want to get physical with him again, don’t you?”
Walter rolled his shoulders forward. “I wouldn’t mind going a round or two with him. Do you blame me?”
“Not really,” she said. “I’ve had thoughts of doing some serious hair-pulling myself.”
Walter chuckled as they continued their walk. After a few minutes of silence, he said, “They were together that day.”
“Exactly what do you mean by together?”
“No, they didn’t sleep together, but they did talk after the funeral.”
“How do you know?” Dawn asked. “You weren’t there.”
“I hear things,” he said.
“Right.”
“All right, Freddie told me.”
Dawn stopped walking. “You’ve seen her?”
He turned to face her and gave a dry laugh. “All of her.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“She was in my bed when I got to my buddy’s crib on that Sunday night. She wants to get back together. She told me she spoke with Sylvester after the funeral. She got the impression he wants to get back with you as much as she wants to get back with me. Apparently he didn’t talk with her too long. You’ve got him on a short leash, don’t you?”
Dawn was glad to learn that Sly had let Freddie know what his marriage meant to him. “I wouldn’t say that,” she said.
“Anyway, Freddie thought a roll in the sack would get us back on the right road.”
“Did it?” Dawn asked, studying his face.
Walter put his hands in the pockets of his slacks and lifted his head to the slowly darkening sky, his eyes closed. “Not exactly.”
“So you slept with her and then told her to get out?” Dawn thought that was cold, even if Freddie did deserve it.
“I wish.” He opened his eyes. “Actually, I tried to sleep with her, but every time I touched her, I thought about Sly touching her. The images of them together are branded on my brain and I can’t get rid of them. He’s in my head and in our bed and I can’t get him out.” He looked down at her. “Have you and Sly...”
“That’s not your business.”
“I take that to mean you haven’t. Why haven’t you? You’re still living in the house with him.”
Dawn didn’t answer.
“You haven’t for the same reason I couldn’t. You can’t get the pictures of them out of your head either. There are three people in your head.” He took her hand in his. “Maybe even four.” He pressed her fingers to his lips. “You’re there too,” he said, “in my head. When I was holding Freddie, I thought about her and Sly and I also thought about you and me.” He kissed her now fisted hand. “We’d be good together,” he whispered. “I’d make it good for you.”
Dawn knew it had been wrong to come here tonight. Why hadn’t she listened to her conscience? She tried to pull her hand and her gaze away from Walter, but he held both tightly.
“Don’t you miss it, Dawn? The closeness, the intimacy you and Sylvester shared. I thought Freddie and I had a pretty good sex life and I miss it. I know you have to miss it too.” He pulled her fist open and kissed the palm of her hand. “I can feel the passion in you. Don’t you want to be held, touched, loved?”
Dawn wanted those things. Oh, how she did! But did she want them from this man or from her husband? Would being with Walter help to erase the demon pictures of a naked Sly and a naked Freddie rolling around together in the bed of that hotel? Would it make her forget how much she hurt because of his betrayal? She raised her eyes to Walter and the darkening of his told her that he was going to kiss her. Step away, her spirit shouted. Step away now.
Ignoring the internal warnings, Dawn closed her eyes, giving silent consent for Walter’s kiss. When his lips touched hers, her hands automatically went to rest on his waist. Walter was a bulkier man than Sly, and Dawn felt smaller in his arms than she did in Sly’s. She was kissing a man other than Sylvester for the first time in almost five years. The kiss itself was pleasant, but any embers of passion were doused by her growing sense of guilt. Though her body would gladly follow Walter’s lead to an anonymous bed somewhere, her heart wouldn’t let her. When Walter lifted his head, she opened her eyes and saw in his the question of how far they would take this. She stepped away.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” she said.
“Me?” he challenged with a lifted brow. “I don’t think I was the only one participating in that kiss.”
“You weren’t,” she admitted. “We shouldn’t have done that.”
“I don’t regret it,” he said, smoothing a finger down her cheek. “You shouldn’t regret it either. We’re human. We have needs. I’ll make it good for you, Dawn,” he promised again.
Dawn stepped away from him, fighting the desire to step closer. “It’s not going to happen, Walter. I’m not going to sleep with you.”
“You want to. I know you want to. I can tell when a woman wants me.”
“It doesn’t matter what I want or what you feel. I’m not sleeping with you.” Dawn’s resolve strengthened with each denial. “It’s not me you want anyway. It’s Freddie. Why don’t you go to her? It seems she still cares for you.” Dawn couldn’t believe she was making Freddie’s case for her.
Walter shook his head. “I can’t.”
Dawn responded to the pain she heard in his voice. She pressed a soothing hand on his back. As she stood there, she felt a rumbling in his body and realized that he was crying.
“Why did she go to him, Dawn? I loved her so much and I thought she loved me. Why did she do it?”
Tears stung Dawn’s eyes. “I don’t know, Walter. Only Freddie can answer that. Why don’t you ask her?”
Walter shook his head as the rumblings in his body subsided. “I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“I think you know the answer to that,” he said. “Have you asked Sylvester?”
Dawn dropped her hand from him, breaking the contact.
“No, you haven’t,” he said when she didn’t answer. “You haven’t asked him because you don’t want to know the answer.” He gave another dry laugh. “I’ve never admitted it before, but I wonder if Sylvester is a better lover than I am. Is that why Freddie went to him?”
God help her, but Dawn had wondered the same thing. What if Sly enjoyed being with Freddie more than he enjoyed being with her? What if they couldn’t recapture what they had, what she thought they had? She couldn’t bear the rejection, not again. A new thought occurred to her. “Is that why you want to sleep with me, Walter? So you can find out how you compare to Sylvester?”
She felt him stiffen next to her but he didn’t look down at her. He didn’t answer.
“That’s it,” she said. “I know that’s it.”
He looked down at her then, the pain in his eyes making it almost unbearable for her to maintain eye contact. “I wouldn’t use you that way, Dawn, not after the way we’ve both been hurt. I’d soothe you, the way you’d soothe me. We’d be good together.”
“It wouldn’t be any good, Walter. There’d definitely be four people in any bed you and I shared. You need to go home to your wife and figure out how to make your marriage work, and I need to do the same with Sly. Either that or we need to walk away. I don’t know about you, but I can’t go on living this way much longer.”
~ ~ ~
Francine paced in front of the fireplace in the Amen-Ray living room, praying her eyes had deceived her but knowing all the while they hadn’t. That had been Dawn she’d seen kissing some man in the Friendly’s parking lot. Now Francine understood the source of the problems between Dawn and Sylvester—Dawn was having an affair! How could her sister be so reckless? And so careless? She was right out in public in the Friendly’s parking lot where anybody could see her.
Didn’t she have any sense of shame?
Francine shook her head. Dawn was still the reckless sister she’d always been. Francine should have known she hadn’t changed. When she saw the headlights of a car, she pulled back the curtains of the front window in the living room and peeked out, praying Dawn was arriving home before Sylvester. She needed to have a talk with Dawn without Sly present. Yes, she had a few words to say to her baby sister.
A few moments later, after parking her car in the garage, Dawn entered the house through the kitchen. “Francie,” she called out in a bright voice.
“I’m in the living room,” Francine said, preparing herself for the confrontation.
Dawn strolled into the room as if she hadn’t a care in the world, as if she hadn’t recently had her lips plastered across another man’s face. “I saw your car outside. How was the movie?” Dawn slipped off her shoes, sat on the couch, and folded her legs under herself. She appeared to be settling in for an evening of chitchat.
“It was good. You and Sly should go see it,” Francine said.
“Maybe we will,” she said. “So, what else did you and Dolores do?”
Francine sat down next to her sister on the couch. “We went for a Jim Dandy at Friendly’s.”
Dawn’s smile faded a bit. “You did?”
Francine nodded. “I only got back a short while ago.”
“Oh.”
Francine decided to give her sister a chance to come clean. “I thought I saw your car there.”
Dawn lowered her feet to the floor. “I met a friend for a cup of coffee.”
Francine captured her sister’s gaze. “Did you drink it from his mouth?”
Dawn lowered her eyes, then snapped them back up. “What are you talking about?”
“You know what I’m talking about, Dawn. I saw you.”
Dawn stood up. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m going to bed.”
Francine stood and took her sister’s arm to stop her departure. “Oh, no, you’re not going to run away from this. I saw you, Dawn. I saw you kissing that guy. Who was he? What are you doing cheating on Sylvester? How can you do something so cruel, so self-destructive?”
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