“And talk about pretty! Oooh wee! Your mama was the prettiest girl I’d ever seen. And when we met, it was like a lightning strike. For both of us. One thing led to another and…" Gerald sighed. “Truth is, I have to take responsibility. She didn't really want to go that far. She kept talking about how we’d go to hell, but I didn't let up and eventually, she gave in. But afterward? She felt so guilty, she wouldn’t let me near her with a ten-foot pole. At that point, it really didn't matter. Pamela was already on the way."
Kristina put her hand up. "Wait a minute. You're telling me mama was pregnant before she got married?"
Gerald nodded. "And when her daddy found out? He liked to beat her to death." Gerald shook his head and rubbed his forehead. "I can still see what she looked like that night. I worked a factory job at the time and I’d just gotten home. My parents always went to bed long before my shift ended, so when I pulled up to the house, I was surprised to see someone sitting on the porch. At first, I thought it was my father, but when I got close enough, I saw it was Rev. Simmons. I just knew he was there to shoot me. But no, it was worse than that. He’d lain her in front of the screen door. Had beaten her to a bloodied pulp. ‘She ain't no good now. You done made sure of that,’ he told me. ‘You ruined her, you keep her.’ Then he spit on her and left. We never saw or heard from him again."
Kristina was speechless. She didn't know anything about her mother's past or family. They never had conversations about those kinds of things. About much of anything, really. Most of their interaction consisted of punishment, endless Bible studies or singing rehearsals. Now she was starting to understand why.
"My parents welcomed her in. Didn’t hesitate to make her part of the family when we married. But I don't know… She was never the same after that night he left her on the porch. She was always religious, but it was like a switch had been flipped. She went from religious to downright fanatical. And as you girls came along, she seemed to get worse. It was like she believed what her father said about her being ruined and she was determined the same wasn't going to happen to you. That's what started most of our problems, that fanaticism. I had never been one to go to church. Until I married Justina, I never even shadowed the front door. But Mahalia wasn't having that. Oh, no. That's what our fights were about. At least, in the beginning.
"And after that?"
"You girls. She was so hard on you. Now, the way I was raised, we didn't hesitate to use the belt if it was needed. A few good swats weren't thought of as bad parenting like they are today. But she went beyond that. I'd come home, go to the room to say goodnight to you girls and when I’d try to hug you, you’d flinch. Then one day I found big ol’ bruises on your arms and legs and I threatened to take you girls and go to my mother's house. I wanted to scare some sense into her. But then I got home after that next twelve-hour shift and you were gone."
"Just like that?"
"Just like that. I tried looking for you. But you gotta understand, this was before Facebook and Google. I had no idea she’d gone to Texas. After years of getting nowhere, I eventually gave up. I'm not making excuses and I'm not saying it was right. But it was what it was. And then one day, me and Justina were looking at one of those night talk shows and there you were, looking so much like your mother, I had to do a double take."
“The Late Show? David Letterman?”
Gerald nodded.
“But that was over fifteen years ago. Why didn't you contact us?”
"I almost did. It was at the beginning, before you became the big name you are now. You were doing a show at the Apollo. I’d been following news about where you were going to be playing at, so I bought a ticket and flew all the way there. After the show, I hung around outside. There was a car waiting for you and I had this idea I could catch you before you got in. It was like a mob out there. All these screaming boys and girls waiting to get your picture, your autograph. That’s when I realized you were already more famous than I knew. And I thought to myself, what am I doing here? What right do I have? I hadn't seen you girls since you were tiny.”
Gerald narrowed his eyes and pointed at Kristina. “Tell the truth. What in the world would you have thought of me, showing up at that point?”
"That you wanted money."
"Exactly. So I turned around, walked back to my hotel and flew home the next morning." Gerald took off his glasses and rubbed his face. ”And from what I could tell of Pamela's reaction, she thinks I should do the same thing now."
Kristina patted him on the arm. "Don't worry about Pam. Besides, it's Tamia’s decision to make, whether she sees you or not. At the very least, she should get to hear what you've told me."
Gerald gave her a tired smile and she wondered how she could feel such a rush of affection for someone she’d only just met.
“Whatever happens, good or bad, I just wanted you girls to know I loved you. Me and Justina. You’ve been loved your whole life.”
Chapter 10
In her dream, Tamia is still trapped in the bus. She can smell ignited gasoline mixed with the stink of burning flesh.
Someone's crying.
Someone else is calling for help.
But not the one person she can see. The drummer, Michael, father of four. She's known him since Kristina’s first tour.
He's not making a sound.
His eyes are open and staring at her and even though she keeps calling out to him, she knows he won't answer.
She knows he's dead.
But she keeps screaming his name.
When Tamia slammed back into consciousness, she was still lying in a hospital bed and her head and neck were still constricted by the halo brace. Though she hadn’t moved a muscle, she was gasping for breath like she’d been running for her life.
Suddenly, Russell appeared over her, his face etched with concern.
"Tamia? Tamia! What is it? Are you in pain? Do you want me to get a nurse?"
He looked like he’d just woken up and she realized he’d probably been in the room the whole time, sleeping. The chair that was usually against the wall was now at her bedside. But she didn't want Russell there. She didn't want anyone there. Were the words, ‘I want to be alone’ unclear?
From her times visiting Xavier in Dallas, she knew Russell well enough to understand he was persistent. Like a dog with a bone, persistent. So she resolved to take away the bone. Instead of answering any of his questions, she decided to look away and pretend he wasn't there. Maybe he would get the hint and make it so.
After a few moments of watching her, Russell moved and she thought maybe she’d finally get what she wanted. But instead, he came around to the other side of the bed.
"Tamia?"
Tamia glared at him, then did the only thing she could to show her disdain for his presence. Cutting her eyes at him, she looked away again.
And again, he walked around the bed so he was in her sight line.
"Oh, I see how it is. You ain’t got nothing to say, huh?”
Tamia could hardly believe the man. Didn’t he have an ego? Any sense of pride? Fine. If he wasn't going to leave on his own, she would stare at him with such malice, he’d soon have no other choice.
Tamia narrowed her gaze on him, summoning her inner Pam and gave him her most withering scowl.
Only, he didn’t wither. He howled with laughter.
“Whoa! If looks could kill…" He put his hands on his knees and leaned over to look her in the eye. “But you’re gonna have to do better than that, baby girl. In fact, I know you can do better than that.”
He straightened up, put his hands on his hips and raised his eyebrows. "What? No putdowns about my Walkman?" He patted the top of his flat top. "No jabs about my hairstyle?"
Tamia didn't even blink.
"Well, that's too bad. You always came up with the best ones." He chuckled. “Remember that time you told me I looked like I just walked off the set of A Different World? From then on, whenever you saw me, you’d yell, ‘Chipmunk! Chipmunk!’” He shook his hea
d. "Now see, you thought you were being funny, but that’s when I decided you were my kind of girl."
His smile faded and his expression became serious. He looked away from Tamia and out the window. When he spoke, his voice was so quiet, she had to strain to make out the words.
“Working in a hospital, I see tragedy daily. And growing up, I used to hear my mom tell stories about her time as an ER nurse. You’d think if anybody knew life was short, it would be me. You’d think I’d take more chances. Go after my dreams."
He continued to stare out the window for a moment before turning and sitting in the chair next to her bed.
“No. I made the same mistake millions of people make every day. I kept putting things off until tomorrow. Next time, I told myself. There’s always the next time…”
When he looked up and saw her watching him, his ears flushed pink and he cleared his throat. She couldn’t believe he actually had the nerve to be embarrassed. As if he’d just revealed something she didn't already know. Of course, she knew. And if he’d ever actually gotten up the courage to ask her out, she might've even been tempted to say yes.
But now…
"I'm sitting over here rambling on like an idiot." Russell dropped his head in his hands and rubbed over his head and the back of his neck.
"Would it be wrong of me to hope you're so doped up on painkillers, you won't remember this conversation tomorrow?"
He smiled, hoping for the same from her. She only stared at him. He sucked his teeth and shook his head.
”I didn't even come in here to say any of that. What I wanted to say, what I’ve been waiting to tell you is this: I can't even begin to imagine what you're going through right now. But I want you to know, for whatever it’s worth, I'm here. Whenever, whatever. Anything. If you need me, in a heartbeat, I’m here."
His facial expression darkened and he swallowed hard. He stood again and came close to her bed.
"I also wanted to tell you not to give up, okay? No matter what the doctors say, no matter what it looks like, you can't give up."
He took Tamia’s hand and gave it a squeeze.
"Just please…don't give up.”
“Not one word?” Pam asked.
She and Kristina stood with Russell just down the hall from Tamia’s closed door.
“Nothing,” he said. He shrugged and grinned. “But she didn’t kick me out, either.”
Kristina couldn’t help but be amused at the young man’s optimism. It was a quality they could use a whole lot more of at the moment. She put her hand on his elbow.
“Thanks, Russell.”
He looked at his watch. “My lunch break is almost over, so I’m gonna grab something to eat real quick. Can I get anything for you, ladies?”
“We’re good.”
“I’ll check in with y’all later, then.”
After he was gone, Kristina nudged Pam’s side. “Stop scowling. He’s right. Her letting him stay in there, well, that’s something.” She chuckled. “I lasted less than sixty seconds. If she’d been able, I’m sure she would’ve sent a bed pan flying at my head.”
Pam cut her eyes at her sister. “It’s not funny.”
Kristina sighed. “What’s the alternative? More crying?”
She sat in one of the chairs clustered nearby and crossed her legs. “I don’t know about you, but my tear ducts could use a break.”
Pam dropped down beside her. “The decision she has to make? It’s huge. Life-altering. She needs us right now. How can we help her if she won’t even let us in the room?”
Pam leaned over, her head in her hands. Kristina rubbed her back.
“We pray. We wait. There’s not much else we can do.”
Pam groaned. “Praying, I can do. Waiting? That’s not really my strong suit.”
Kristina leaned back and gasped. “What? Are you kidding me? You’re the most patient person I’ve ever met!”
Pam tried to roll her eyes, but ended up laughing.
“Keep it up, Kristina. Tamia won’t be the only one aiming bed pans at your big head.”
Chapter 11
"Kristina?"
Kristina, on her way to the cafeteria, turned to see who had called her name. Deandra, Omar’s sister, gently transferred a sleeping Chloe from her arms to the padded bench she was sitting on.
"Can I talk to you for a few minutes?"
"Of course," Kristina said.
After checking to make sure Chloe was still sleeping, Deandra continued, her voice lowered to a hush.
"I know you already have a lot going on. I hate to add one more thing. But me and my sister, we don't know what else to do." She paused in an attempt to steady her wavering voice.
"It's Omar. He's taking this hard. I know everyone is. But I've never seen him like this. We’ve tried to get him to come home. Take a break. Eat. But he refuses. He won't even eat the food we bring him. I don't think he's even taken a nap since y’all got here."
With all the time Kristina had been taking up with Tamia and Gerald, she hadn't been focusing on how Omar was doing. Of course, she knew he was having a hard time. She knew that before they’d even arrived in Dallas. But they hadn’t spoken about Xavier since the doctor gave the news. She got the impression he hadn’t wanted to. Should she have pressed him anyway?
"I know that he's grieving. I get that. But Omar’s a soldier. A rock. Always has been. Even when our dad died." Deandra quickly brushed away the tears that clung to her eyelashes.
"But right now? He’s spiraling. He doesn't even look like himself. It's like he's hollowed out or something. I'm scared. We've tried everything. But I know how he feels about you. How he's always felt about you. And if there's anyone that can make him come to himself, it's you. Please, can you talk to him?"
"He’s in there now? Xavier's room?"
Deandra nodded. “We see him for a little while each day. Seems it's always around two o'clock, for some reason. But even then, he doesn't talk. He goes to the bathroom and walks the halls for about an hour. Then he's right back in there."
Kristina noticed he was always there when she and Esther came for prayer. He’d slip out when they arrived, mumbling a word or two. But she had no idea he returned the moment they left. What about Chloe? If he was always with Xavier, and as unresponsive as Deandra claimed when he was around, how was that affecting his little girl?
Kristina looked at Chloe, asleep on the bench, and Deandra, still on the verge of tears, and nodded her head.
"I'll see what I can do."
When Kristina entered Xavier's room, Omar didn't even notice she’d come in. He sat at his son's bedside, holding Xavier's hand and stroking his shoulder. As Kristina came near, she understood Deandra's concern.
Omar's face was drawn and his eyes, bloodshot. Instead of its normal rich, pecan brown coloring, his skin had a sallow appearance. When she touched his shoulder, he started.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you."
"I didn't realize what time it was." Omar’s voice was hoarse with exhaustion.
"It's not two o'clock. I'm not here to spend time with Xavier. I wanted to see about you. Your sisters are worried."
"Let me guess. Deandra? She shouldn't have bothered you."
"I'm glad she did." Kristina pulled over a chair and sat down. "What's this I hear about you not eating?"
"She's exaggerating."
"Oh, really? When was the last time you ate?"
Omar remained silent and focused on Xavier's face.
"You can't do this. Wearing yourself out isn't going to help him or anybody else."
Omar just shook his head and rubbed his thumb across the top of Xavier’s hand.
"I can't leave."
"No one's asking you to leave him. Just eat. Get some sleep."
"No."
Kristina dropped back in her chair.
"Omar—“
He turned to her and the sternness of his expression kept her from continuing. Then his face softened and he turned his attention
back to Xavier.
"I can't."
Kristina remained quiet for a few moments. She considered leaving him alone like he wanted her to. But however good his intentions, he was hurting himself and, as a result, his family. Maybe not to the extent she had, but still, she couldn’t help but make the comparison. If her sisters and Robin had left her alone like she wanted them to, where would she be?
"Talk to me."
Omar pressed his lips together and stared down at Xavier's hand.
“Tell me what’s going on.”
He didn’t want to. That was clear. But she wasn’t going anywhere until he did, and they both knew it.
"I know what the doctor said. I'm not stupid. But I just need a few moments. If he would only open his eyes for a few seconds…”
Kristina waited as Omar struggled with his emotions and the words he was trying to say.
“Then I could tell him…”
"That you love him?”
Omar nodded.
“He already knows."
Omar clenched his jaw and spoke through gritted teeth. "I need to say it to him. I need to be able to look in his eyes and say it to him. I need him to know how sorry I am for everything that happened."
Omar’s voice broke and hearing it felt like a stab in the heart. Kristina looked away from him and used her sleeves to catch the tears before they dropped down her cheeks.
“Omar, you have nothing to apologize for. He knows that. I know that. You and I did the best we could. Xavier has always known that."
"I just need a few seconds." He said, keeping his eyes on Xavier.
"What you need is food. And a good night’s sleep."
Omar cut his eyes at Kristina. She could see his patience was wearing thin, but she couldn’t care less.
My Soul Is Satisfied (The Langston Family Saga Book 3) Page 5
