His phone rang and he didn't want to answer it. Why should he? He was so depressed and his life was a mess. He ignored it and it rang again. The loud peals had seemed as if they were screaming, Pick me up! Pick me up!
When he finally answered, his grandfather's voice was gruff. He hadn't even said hello.
"Life is tough, Yuri. I don't think there is anybody in this world who can honestly say that they don't have something that can bring them to their knees."
He chuckled in the silence. "My lowest time was when your grandmother died. She was the young one, the one who should have outlived me. I was gutted. My youngest son had run away and a few days after that my wife collapsed and died. It was tragic. It was sudden. It was heart-wrenching. I have lived for ninety-six years and I can honestly say that it never gets easier, but you can handle it better."
"How?" Yuri's voice had choked up with unshed tears. How did his grandfather know that he was so low?
He had been hiding behind smiles, pretending that he was fine with all that had happened. He thought he had everyone fooled.
"My favorite text, Philippians 4: 6: Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. I always try to remember it when I am down and out."
"I don't feel like praying, Pops." Yuri shuddered. "I've been drinking and sleeping with anything in a skirt."
Pops sighed over the phone. "That is quite common behavior, Yuri. When people hurt they fall apart. They drift away from their only source of wholeness. I will pray with you, Yuri. Do you think that God can help you to feel better again?"
"Yes," Yuri had whispered over the phone. He had been so low he would have agreed to anything to feel better.
Miraculously, he had. It was as if when his grandfather spoke to God as his friend and father he had somehow given him confidence that God was listening, and it had made a difference. It made a huge difference then.
And it could now. All he needed to do was present his requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. He repeated the next verse silently. He was overwhelmed; he got himself in one sticky situation. He had to tell God about this.
Chapter Thirteen
Lunchtime caught Yuri in a meeting in the tech lab with some of the IT guys. They were having a productive time working out some of the bugs from the latest software they had developed.
It was a welcome distraction from his personal problems and he was enjoying himself. He loved this kind of thing; he preferred this to the management side of the business. He was more irritated than anything when his secretary interrupted the meeting to announce that he had a visitor in his office.
He excused himself and walked through the long corridor to his office at the end. Amoy was there seated around his desk in a bright red skirt suit that enhanced her skin tone and a slash of matching red lipstick to match her pout.
"Yuri!" She smiled at him.
"Amoy! Wow," he grinned. His irritation vanished. "You are looking especially gorgeous today."
Amoy nodded. "Thank you. I had a business meeting at a modeling agency today; thought I would dress to match the crowd."
"And you certainly accomplished that." Yuri sat in the seat across from her. It was the first time that he had done so—sat in his guest chairs. The seats still had that new smell. "Thank you again for last night."
Amoy smiled. "It wasn't too much?"
"No. Not at all." Yuri leaned on the desk. "Why?"
"Because I can be pushy," Amoy sighed, "and I think I have been pushing you too much. I was the one that insisted on a housewarming party. You didn't look happy at all last night."
"I...well...there was a reason for that," Yuri sighed. "We need to talk."
"Over lunch?" Amoy got up. "I know this nice place..."
"What about the food court at the Shopping Center?" Yuri got up too. "I know you've been trying to introduce me to sophisticated places but I have to confess I haven't been enjoying the food too much."
"Really?" Amoy shook her head.
"Really." Yuri shrugged. "I like regular foods, like home-cooked kinds of things that I can call their names. Cornish game hens and gourmet caramelized carrots are not my thing, at least not yet."
Amoy laughed. "Okay. I can't walk in these heels; I’m going to have to change my shoes. I always carry normal heels in my car."
He followed her to her car, a late model SUV, and watched as she changed her shoes for flats.
"You are a short girl without the heels," he said when she stepped out of the car.
Amoy laughed. "That I am. Zack used to tease me about it when we were younger. One day we were the same height and the next I was the short one."
They held hands and crossed the road to the shopping mall. They ended up in the food court, which was not as crowded because it was a little after rush hour. They ordered lunch and chose a seat near the railing overlooking the fountain.
Yuri got the Jamaican lunch special at one of the food kiosks. Amoy ordered a natural juice.
Yuri raised an eyebrow at her.
"I have to watch the waistline at my age." Amoy snickered. "Besides, I had finger food at the meeting today."
"Okay." Yuri dug into the curried chicken and boiled bananas while Amoy watched him, a small smile on her face. "Your parents, gone back home?"
"Yes." Yuri nodded. "But first they'll take a detour. My Mom wants to play tourist so they're heading to the north coast."
"Uh oh." Amoy sank a little lower in her seat. "There is the ex-husband with his new flame."
Yuri spun around. "Where?"
"Don't look now," Amoy murmured.
Yuri raised his eyebrow at her. "Really Miss Big-Shot Lawyer? You are hiding from your ex?"
Amoy giggled like a little girl. "There he is."
Yuri saw a Steven Seagal lookalike strut by with a very thin, very young-looking woman. He had his hand in the small of her back possessively. He wasn't looking in their direction.
"Really, you were married to Steven Seagal?" Yuri laughed as Amoy's ears reddened.
"He doesn't look like Steven Seagal at all," Amoy whispered hoarsely, "more like a fat Elvis Presley."
Yuri chuckled. "Mmmm. I think I can see it."
"Oh shut it." Amoy hissed and then she started laughing. "You are right, I am acting crazy."
"I am guessing you don't see him much?"
"No." Amoy smiled. "I was so bitter after the divorce. I literally sent up my blood pressure with rage. I am still learning to handle it."
"Wow. What did he do?" Yuri wiped his mouth and sat back in the chair.
"It’s one of those regular stories," Amoy rolled her eyes. "I joined his law firm. I didn't like how I was treated at my parents’ firm. Granddad was old fashioned and ran the place like it was 1957. Women should be in the kitchen kind of thing. My dad didn't want to upset the status quo, so Zack and I just followed along.
"When Dad opened the Kingston branch we got a breather from the old ways but not enough for my tastes. So I joined Gardener and Gardener. Father and son. Randy and Shawn. They were forward-thinking and progressive and the absolute opposite of the male-dominated, oppressive nonsense I was used to.
"Shawn liked me from day one but he was kind of old for me, like fifteen years older, and he had a very needy ex-wife and three kids who hated my guts. So I thought we would have an affair and just call it a day.
"Instead, Shawn proposed marriage on my twenty-eighth birthday. I was ecstatic. I was also feeling broody. I really wanted to have kids, to start a family, but Shawn didn’t want more children. And he hid that fact for years. I was struggling to get pregnant and he acted as if he wanted me to. It was after a particularly bad depressive bout that he confessed to me that he already had three children and he had a vasectomy a little after we got married. Argh... I could have killed him then and there."
"He wasted your time," Yuri said
ruefully.
"Yes," Amoy grimaced, "that he did. He only confessed because he was cheating on me with somebody else and he just wanted out of our relationship. It was messy, I tell you. I didn't take any of the news well. The cheating, the vasectomy, none of it. At first I thought I could deal with all of it and stay but I couldn’t. I got more and more angry the longer I stayed."
"And you avoid him whenever possible."
"Yes. I still feel like wringing his fat neck." Amoy looked at him sheepishly. "I used to fantasize about doing just that. What can I say? I liked the thought of marriage being forever. I am the only divorcee in my entire family to date."
Yuri sighed. "You are not going to like what I have to say then."
"Oh gosh." Amoy groaned. "It has something to do with Marla?"
"Yes." Yuri nodded. "We grew up together."
"I gathered that. You said you loved her."
"Yeah." Yuri sighed. "She's pregnant."
Amoy held herself rigid. "No. Don't say it."
"Yes." Yuri nodded. "She is having my baby."
Amoy closed her eyes. "Yuri..." she swallowed. "Yuri..."
"She's married to my friend—well, I expect he's an ex-friend now..."
"Married?" Amoy swallowed. "I don't understand."
Yuri sighed. "Maybe this is going to take longer than lunch and maybe when I am finished you won't want to have anything to do with me."
"Maybe." Amoy crossed her arms and looked at him huffily. "I pegged you right the first time; you were single and damaged."
Amoy was silent after the telling. Grimly silent. He had just told her as it was. Yuri realized after he stopped speaking that he may have gone into a little bit too much detail. He didn't have to tell her about his breakdown five years ago.
Amoy opened her mouth and then shut it. What she said next had nothing to do with his confession. "I need to go and get another drink."
She got up and Yuri groaned silently. He just realized belatedly that he liked Amoy. He really liked her and once more he had allowed Marla to jinx a potential relationship.
Amoy returned and looked at him solemnly. "So the big question is, do you still love Marla?"
He should have expected it. It was his turn to stare at Amoy, unable to say anything.
"You do, don't you?" Amoy frowned at him. "Come on, Yuri, be honest with me and yourself. A perfect world for you would be to have both Marla and your baby with you right now. Wouldn't it?"
"It's not as simple as that." Yuri inhaled raggedly.
"Let me break it down then," Amoy said solemnly. "If Ricky was out of the picture, right now, today, would you want her with you?"
"She's having my baby. Of course I want her around."
"No, no. No baby talk." Amoy shook her head. "Could you see yourself with Marla now without a baby in the picture? Would you welcome her back in your life with open arms?"
Yuri realized that he couldn't answer the question. He couldn't say yes, not now. Marla had hurt him with her marriage to Ricky. He was angry at her. He wouldn't welcome her back with open arms, not after all the things she had put him through. But he couldn't say no, because she was Marla. She was baked into his brain as the woman he had always wanted to be with.
For reasons he couldn't fathom, she was there. And he couldn't explain it. He was as mixed up and confused about Marla now more than ever.
"Maybe if these couple of months never happened, and I didn't meet you and my life hadn't changed beyond all recognition..." Yuri looked into Amoy's earnest eyes. "I don't know what to answer now. There is no simple yes or no."
"Would you like me to wait around until you resolve this in your head?" Amoy asked him earnestly. "I have feelings for you, Yuri. I haven't felt this way in a long, long time. I keep on saying to myself, ‘No, he's too young for me. I am eight years older than he is. He is too attractive. Attractive men are a magnet for women.’ I can't deal with all of the drama right now but I am willing to deal with it for you, Yuri."
Amoy clutched his hands. "A baby is a blessing, I can't begrudge you that. Listen, if you want help with keeping your child I'll be here, okay?"
"Okay." Yuri clutched her long, tapered fingers to his.
"I don't know what to say."
"I'll be here till you figure it all out," Amoy said gently, "if you want me to be here."
"I want you to be here," Yuri found himself saying. "I really do."
Amoy smiled at him and then laughed. She reached over and kissed him, hard and thoroughly.
Chapter Fourteen
"There is nothing much we can do, Marla." Dr. Jane looked at Marla sympathetically. "Your father's kidneys are shot. All his major systems are shutting down. He doesn't have much longer."
Marla nodded. This news was not shocking or unexpected. Her father had been unresponsive for weeks now. Even though she had moved him into private care, it had not really made a difference.
"So how are you keeping?" the elderly doctor looked at her with sympathy in her eyes. "You are how far along now?"
"Six months, one week." Marla rubbed her belly. "I think I should look bigger but my doctor says I am quite fine."
Dr. Jane smiled. "When I was pregnant with my three I looked like a house by six months but you are far smaller than I ever was. Is it a girl or a boy?"
Marla smiled. "Boy. "
"Ah." Doctor Jane stood up. "Congratulations, my dear. I hope this stressful situation is not getting you down. If you want someone to talk to I have a psychotherapist friend..."
"No thanks. " Marla stood up too, though she did it a bit inelegantly. "I am fine."
"You sure?" Dr. Jane looked at her skeptically.
"Very sure," Marla said briskly. But when she was sitting outside in her car she wasn't feeling so confident. Her new security guy looked at her respectfully. "Ready, Mrs. Mills?"
"Yes... er... yes." Marla nodded. This was the third guy since Jason. She had not even bothered to find out this one’s name, and Ricky had them cycling in and out of her life on a whim.
He had asked for a replacement for Jason just one week after she had told him her secret, and as if Ricky recognized that something was off, he just fired him. His reason for firing Jason was unclear and he had refused to explain except to say that since her interest in him was so marked, he was happy that he had done it.
The one after Jason was Manley. He too was let go on a whim. Apparently he had looked at her too lustfully.
Ricky was making progress with his therapy, to the point where he wasn't even using his wheelchair much, and he was getting more and more paranoid about her running away because of her father's condition.
She could see that he was. He had her on a short leash and she was feeling the chafings of it. It was enough to make her dread waking up in the mornings.
Was this the kind of life she wanted her son to grow up in, a controlled environment with a volatile stepfather?
She considered calling Yuri for the umpteenth time and laying her situation on the line. The thought of Ricky hurting the Scarletts always stopped her, but was it worth it? Being imprisoned like this? When was she going to put herself and her baby first?
She considered her options. There weren't many. She had to leave Treasure Beach. And she would have gone a long time ago if her father's situation was not so precarious. He was dying. She had to stay put.
And when he exited this world she would exit Treasure Beach. It was a scary thought. She would have to leave everything that was familiar, and she couldn't let anyone know where she was going.
Especially Yuri.
She didn't want him to get blamed for her running away. Surely Ricky wouldn't punish the Scarletts if they had nothing to do with her leaving.
Where could she go? She looked out the window as she saw storm clouds gather over toward the sea. It was going to rain.
"Would you like the windows down, Mrs. Mills?" the security guy asked her politely.
"Yes, thanks." Marla continued looking through the
window as the wind ruffled her hair and swept across her face like a rough caress.
Poor security guy would soon be out of a job, because he would have nobody to guard when she was gone.
Marla wondered what was happening with Jason. She wondered if he had told anybody her story. Maybe he was in the break room now of his Mandeville-based company telling the story of the trapped rich lady whose husband was paralyzed and yet had her imprisoned in their luxurious mansion.
"And the lady is pregnant for another man and get this, the husband is not allowing her to leave; instead he is doing the opposite, tightening the noose”.
She could imagine him shaking his head in disbelief. "It’s true what they say, you can’t judge a family from the outside. You really can’t."
And don't envy anyone, Marla added silently. You don't know what their journey is about.
She highly doubted that anybody would envy her right now. Her back was aching and she felt like she had heartburn.
She wished she had somebody to talk to about pregnancy and other girly stuff. She was pretty isolated these days. He had even forbidden her to talk to Heather, the helper who came to clean. Not that she would talk to Heather anyway; she faithfully reported everything to Ricky.
How on earth did her life come to this? The first splatter of rain hit the windshield, followed by another and then another. Much like her life. It started with one innocuous drop and then another and then next thing she knew it became a deluge.
Marla sighed.
She needed to make plans to escape.
The rain started in earnest and the security guy wound up the windows. This time he didn't ask. The rain was blowing into the car.
"Would you like me to play the radio?"
Marla didn't care one way or the other.
"Sure," she murmured. "No talk shows though; can't manage to hear other people's problems right now."
"Got you." He nodded and turned the radio to a station that played only music.
She half listened to the music, her mind was racing though. First she had to bury her father.
Scarlett Baby (The Scarletts Page 10
