by Curtis Bunn
“I met this guy one night out with Olivia at Suite Lounge. He knew Olivia. Then I saw him again a few weeks later and—”
“Saw him where?”
“Uh, I saw him in front of our house. He was walking. That’s it.”
“That’s it? No, that’s only the beginning. What else?”
Rhonda just looked at him.
“Were you with him that night you claimed you were mad at me and with Olivia?”
“I was mad at you. . . But yes.”
“I knew it. Giving me that bullshit about staying with Olivia. Worse than that, you’ve been making me out to be the bad guy, the loser. If you really love someone, it’s easy to stay faithful. I’ve had my chances to step out on you, and I wouldn’t do it. I wouldn’t because I love you. Loved you.”
“Oh, you don’t love me anymore? Just like that.”
“Ah, yes, just like that. You can go to fucking hell as far as I’m concerned.”
“You said we were going to try save our marriage.”
“If I did, I lied. I needed confirmation before I finished packing my shit so I can get out of here.”
“Eric, let’s be reasonable. We have a lot of years to just toss aside like that.”
“You should have thought of that before you started fucking someone else, before you humiliated me and defiled yourself. Once you opened your legs for another man, our marriage was over.”
Rhonda felt stupid, humiliated and hopeless. Her shoulders slumped. But she could not cry. It came to her that Eric knowing was a relief. She hated the sneaking around. She hated the dishonesty. She disagreed with his position that if she truly loved him, it would have been easy to be faithful. She loved Eric, but she was unfulfilled. She had envisioned herself with other men, men who were not overweight and who cared about their appearance. It was shallow, she concluded, but she couldn’t help it. It was who she was.
The end of her marriage was not such a bad idea for her. She did not want it to come this way, with Eric hurt and hating her.
So she mustered some resistance. “Eric, don’t make an emotional decision about us. We have a lot of history.”
“And we’ll always have a lot of history. But our history ends now.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
VISITING HOURS
STEPHANIE
The doctors would only allow one person to spend the night in the room with Toya, and it was difficult for Terry to get Stephanie to understand that it would be him, not her. She finally acquiesced, after ten minutes of heated discussion, but refused to go home. She stayed in the visiting area downstairs.
“We can relieve each other,” she told Terry. “You’re going to need a break in the middle of the night.”
“Why don’t you go home and get some rest and come back in the morning?” Willie told Stephanie as she claimed a space downstairs.
“Go home? You ought to know I’m not leaving my sister. Period. Not until she wakes up and smiles at me.”
“What about me?”
“What about you? What does that mean? Who’s going to cook for you and make up the bed? Is that what you mean?”
“I mean, shouldn’t you be home with your husband?”
“I’m so scared right now for my sister and so angry with you. My sister’s life is on the line. And you’re worried about me being with you at home? You should be talking about staying here with me, if anything. How selfish can you be?”
“I’m not trying to be selfish. I know how you are. I’m trying to get you to take care of yourself. You won’t eat. You won’t get any sleep. And you’ll end up in one of these hospital beds yourself.”
“I don’t care. Do you understand what sacrifice is about for the people you love? I don’t think you do. That’s why your whole life is work and your business and not our marriage.”
“Wait. Where did that come from?”
“It came from my mouth—and my heart. I don’t want to talk about it now. I want to concentrate on Toya. But we will talk about it.”
“You bet your ass we will talk about it—and other stuff, too,” he said with anger. He pointed at Stephanie and walked out.
She was glad to see him go. The guilt of being with Charles coupled with her anger at him was too much for her to deal with at that time. Stephanie wanted to be alone with her thoughts and prayers.
She purchased a blanket and pillow in the gift shop and got as comfortable as she could in the waiting area. The sun had gone down and she hadn’t eaten since she’d shared cheese and crackers with Charles. But eating was not a priority for her. She wanted to pray. She went up to Toya’s room and asked the nurse if she could say a prayer and leave. The nurse gave her five minutes.
She and Terry joined hands and they each held Toya’s.
“God, I’m so scared right now. Toya needs you. Terry needs you. I need You, Lord. Only You can make this situation right. It says in the Bible: ‘If two or three are gathered together in My name, there am I among them.’ We’re here in Your name now, God. Heal Toya. Wake up my sister. Wake up Terry’s wife. She has a lot more to offer the world. Bring her back so she can continue Your work. Bring her back and I will be the servant I should have been all along. I know I have fallen short of Your desires for me. But please, God, do not hold that against Toya. We pray that You bless us with Your grace and mercy. She deserves to be okay, Lord. We have comfort in knowing You will do what’s best and that You do not make mistakes. In the precious name of Jesus, we pray. Amen.”
She wiped away tears and leaned over the bed and delicately hugged her sister.
“We’ve got to stay positive,” Terry said.
Stephanie nodded and left the room. She hardly remembered walking up the hallway, past the nurse’s station and onto the elevator. She made her way to the chair with her blanket and pillow. There were three people not far from her—a couple and a man. They all looked sad.
She dug into her purse and pulled out her cell phone charger and plugged it into the wall. Then she folded herself into the chair, wrapped the blanket around her shoulders, hugged the pillow and lost herself in her fear.
When their mom had died in a car accident six years earlier, Willie had been supportive, but she had survived because of her sister. They’d cried together, prayed together and ultimately pulled each other off the figurative floor.
It was Toya’s words that changed their inconsolable spirit. She’d said, “Look at me. Wipe your face. You know Mom. She wouldn’t have this from us. If nothing else, she taught us to be strong. We’ve mourned her for almost two days. We’ve got to get up and honor her now. We are her daughters. We have to show who she is by getting our shit together.”
That rationale turned things. The sisters hugged and then gathered themselves. They remained grief-stricken. But they displayed strength, especially at the funeral, that they believed their mother admired.
Recalling those moments alerted her that strength was required as her sister lay upstairs fighting for her life. Inducing a coma was not a fail-safe procedure. The hope was that there was no major damage to Toya’s brain. They could not determine that until the swelling went down. Even then, it would not be until she woke up and showed cognitive indications that they could be assured of a full recovery.
All that scared Stephanie in a way that made her tremble. She wanted to be strong, knew she needed to be strong, but could not shake the reality of what could happen. Then she started talking to herself.
“It’s not the reality of what could happen until it happens.”
“God would not take her from me now. It’s too soon.”
“How could I plan her funeral? It would be too much.”
“Brain damage could make her unable to walk or talk. How could I handle that?”
Only the chime from her cell phone, indicating a text message, pulled her from her sullen place. It was Charles.
I’m sure it is an intense time for you. Please send me an update. Even if it’s brief, I’d like to know something
.
In all her panic, Stephanie had forgotten about Charles. If none of this had happened, she would have still been with him in their romantic hotel room on the water, even at the risk of her husband being over-the-top upset. Toya’s situation changed things—for that night and long term. Stephanie’s focus had to be on helping her sister recover from the traumatic brain injury. Not Willie. Not Charles. Not even herself.
Instead of texting Charles, she called him. “Hey, how are you? How’s your sister?”
“Thank you for texting me. It’s a nightmare, to be honest. The short version is they put her in a coma, hoping to reduce the swelling in her brain—she collapsed and now they’re waiting for the swelling to go down. After that, they can determine if she had any brain damage.”
“Oh, my goodness. I am really sorry to hear this, Stephanie. Anything I can do?”
“Just be supportive, please. Pray for Toya. Pray for me. That would mean a lot.”
“That goes without saying. Where are you?”
“I’m staying at the hospital, in the waiting room. Just gonna stay here until Terry, my sister’s husband, needs a break from her bedside. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not going home, to the store. Nowhere. But, Charles, I’m so scared.”
“You’re supposed to be scared because you care so much,” he said. “But you also need to be faithful, positive. Put uplifting vibes in the air, vibes that your sister can draw from and get better. I believe there is something to the power of your mindset, what you put into the universe. Stay positive that the best will occur. When you believe, you feel less helpless. You believe.”
Charles’ stock in Stephanie’s eyes increased exponentially. Her husband, in her time of need, provided drama instead of support. Contrasted against Charles’ steady and supportive disposition, Willie seemed like a loser.
“You don’t know how much you mean to me right now, how important you are,” she told Charles. “I probably shouldn’t say this, but you’re more supportive than my husband. He isn’t here, hasn’t offered a word of encouragement. Wanted me to go home.”
“He didn’t get that you needed to be close to your sister?”
“Sad, but he didn’t.”
“Well, I wish I could be there with you. This room is not the same without you. If I hadn’t paid for it already, I would just go stay in Oakland to be closer to you.”
“I’m glad you feel that way. I’m trying my best to stay positive. It’s not easy.”
“Make it easy. Focus on what you want to happen. Focus on what you’re going to say to her when she comes out of it. Focus on making your friendship with her even better. And when in doubt, think about me.”
Stephanie smiled, which was something she had not done since learning of Toya’s condition. Brownie point for Charles.
When they hung up, Stephanie tried to stay positive. But she began to ponder her life as her sister clung to hers, and her mind took her to various places. Some of them were pleasant places. Others made her feel bad about herself. She especially focused on her judgment. When she thought about her affair with Andre earlier in their marriage, she felt embarrassed. Now Charles.
What’s wrong with me?
She married Willie because he was opposite of her father, who had cheated on her mother with her mom’s friend. Stephanie was nineteen when she’d learned of the infidelity that broke the family. She and Toya had their image of the ideal man wrecked. Their mother was devastated. The relationship Stephanie had with her dad was never the same.
She began calling him by his first name. She saw less and less of him. And the things about him that she once admired—his leadership within the family, his history with the Black Panther Party, his business acumen, his wisdom about most everything—diminished. She did not lose total respect for him because she understood how he provided for his wife and two daughters, even if Toya was not his birth child, and they benefitted from the life lessons he taught. But she looked at him differently and often with disdain.
What bothered her as she sat in that hospital waiting room was that she had to admit that she was her father’s daughter. Many family members had told her that she was like her father in more than looks, and Stephanie admitted that they were right, and not just about the positive parts of his personality or character.
While Toya had their mom’s personality and disposition, Stephanie had her father’s, and the fact that it manifested itself in her extramarital relationships made her feel low. She was there when her usually stoic, calm mother howled like a wounded animal at the revelation of her dad’s affair. She and Toya sat with their mom for five hours trying to console her as the pain tore through them, too. For her to have stepped out on Willie made her equal to her father, which was hard for her to accept.
She managed to prevent crying at the revelation, but it got her down. She considered herself honorable, but she had done dishonorable things—just like her father.
Stephanie crawled up in the chair and covered her head with the blanket. But no matter how dark she made it, there was no escaping that she mirrored her dad, even in ways she did not want.
There were times when she told Willie that she was more like a man in certain areas of life, especially in dealing with the opposite sex. She wasn’t the dreamy, romantic type of woman. She was not the kind of woman to have a lot of female friends; she got along better with men than women. And, when she was single, she juggled men as men did women.
The sins of the father.
Over time, Stephanie was able to forgive her dad, but not like Toya. Stephanie never called him “Dad” again. Instead, she called him Nick. Conversely, he and Toya talked regularly and often went out for lunch or dinner in San Francisco, Marin County or Napa Valley. Their relationship was solid, which meant a lot because Toya’s natural father was a phantom.
Stephanie pulled the covers from off her head. She realized she had not called her father about Toya. It was half-past midnight, and it was a call she did not want to make. Not because of the hour, but because Nick doted on Toya in a way that belied the side of him that Stephanie abhorred. So, she knew he’d be just as troubled as she about her condition.
But she had to make the call. Toya would want him to know.
“The sky must be falling for you to call me,” Nick said when he answered the phone. “I can’t believe it.”
“I only called because you should know that Toya is in the hospital.”
“What?”
“She, for some reason, collapsed today and banged her head on the side of a cement stair. They’ve put her in a coma to take the pressure off her brain. . . ”
Stephanie gave him more details, including the hospital. And even though she told him he could not see her until the morning, he said, “I’m on my way.”
This did not make Stephanie feel good. She knew she’d have to spend time with her dad. At the same time, despite all animosity, she still longed for his approval. That was the hold a father could have over his daughter.
For all she had done, including raising a beautiful, accomplished daughter, Stephanie still believed her father looked at her as less than what she should have been. She knew it could have been, was more likely, her insecurities; Nick loved his girls with equal passion. When they learned of his infidelities, he was equally concerned with their reaction to it as he was his wife.
What incensed Stephanie was that he showed little remorse when it all came crashing down. He was flippant, arrogant and dismissive. “At this point, it is what it is,” he had said to his family.
If that was not hurtful enough for Stephanie, Nick was her natural father, but he seemed, in her mind, to favor Toya, whose father fled to Seattle never to return when he learned her mom was pregnant. Nick’s closeness to Toya always bothered Stephanie, no matter how little she discussed it or how vehemently she denied it.
Nick might have been overly attentive to Toya to make up for her father not being there, but for Stephanie, it took something away from their relationship
. Then his cheating all but ruined it.
All those thoughts filled her head as she struggled to get comfortable in the chair in the waiting area. Between the dilemma of Charles, Toya’s condition and her father, Stephanie was exhausted. So, she nodded off while saying silent prayers.
When she woke up nearly an hour later, she was astonished to see Charles standing over her. She thought she was dreaming.
“I thought you could use a hug,” he said.
Stephanie instinctively looked around to make sure Terry—or anyone she knew—was not around. “Oh, wow. Charles. I can’t believe you.”
He held out his hand and helped her out of the chair. They hugged.
“I can’t believe you’re here. I can’t believe it.”
“I just couldn’t sit in that room, knowing you were here by yourself, at a time like this, and not come over. I was worried, but I’m glad no one was here. How are you?”
“So much better now. It means a lot that you’re here. I didn’t realize how much I needed a hug from you.”
“Good. But I’m not going to stay long. Any new word on your sister?”
“Not yet. Last I heard was that they will keep her in the coma for at least a day or two. Nothing much has changed yet. A few days and the swelling should go down. . . Hopefully.”
“Remember, you have to stay positive. Trust the doctors. Shoot, trust God.”
She hugged Charles and he kissed her on the top of her head.
“Stephanie?” came the voice.
She opened her eyes and pulled back from Charles to see her father.
“Nick.”
“Baby girl.”
She stepped away from Charles. “Come here,” Nick said. They hugged.
“This is Charles, one of my colleagues from the school system. This is Nick.”
“I’m her father. Nice to meet you.”
“Father? Oh, wow. Nice to meet you, sir.”
“I’m going to leave now. But I’m glad I was able to come by for a few minutes, Stephanie. Nice to meet you, sir.”
