Malcolm chuckled softly. “I thought about you too but it was a good thing for me.”
She shook her head, the faintest of smiles pulling at her mouth.
Malcolm smiled back. “That’s much better. Now tell me what’s going on.” He reached a hand out and grabbed hers. She was shaking and he suddenly would have done anything to ease her discomfort.
Cilla took a deep breath. Then another as she stared into his eyes. For a brief moment she wished that she could have done anything not to stir the pot she was about to agitate.
Malcolm was still staring at her curiously, his warm palm caressing the back of her hands. He bristled ever so slightly when she pulled herself from his touch. She reached into her handbag, searching deep in the bottom lining until she pulled out his daughter’s cell phone, setting it on the table. He looked from it to Cilla, confusion washing over his expression.
“I don’t understand? I wasn’t worried about the phone. I knew you’d get it back to us and Cleo’s still being punished so she can’t use it anyway.”
“You need to look through her phone,” Cilla said. “I think it’ll explain why she’s been having such a hard time lately.”
His gaze still flitting back and forth, Malcolm picked up the device from the table and engaged it. It opened to the same social network site that Cilla had seen. It took him a moment to comprehend what he was seeing and then he gasped, loudly, sounding as if he’d just been punched in the stomach.
“What is this?” he asked, his voice coming louder than he expected. He looked around the room, suddenly afraid that he had drawn attention to them. He drew his gaze back to Cilla’s face and asked a second time. “Really, what is this?”
“When Cleo and I ran into each other at the fairgrounds this is what she was looking at. And she was crying hysterically. I think this is what upset her. She met me in your driveway yesterday and she was desperate to get her phone back. It was clear that she didn’t want anyone to see these.”
“You knew about this last night and you didn’t tell me?”
“I was waiting for the right moment.”
Malcolm snapped. “The right moment?”
“I was hoping for an opportunity to talk to Cleo, to see if I could find out who did this to her.”
“It’s not your place to talk to my child,” Malcolm suddenly hissed. “You should have talked to me. You should have told me!”
Cilla nodded ever so slightly, tears welling in her eyes. “I was only trying to help, Malcolm.”
“If you wanted to help you should have told me the minute you found out.”
Cilla nodded again. “You’re right,” she said, her expression hardening. “I should have, but I didn’t. Because I knew how difficult this was going to be for you and for Cleo. Most especially for Cleo and I was hoping I could figure out how to make it better before I did have to tell you.”
“You didn’t have any right to keep this from me,” Malcolm snarled, his expression heated.
“Malcolm, there is nothing you can say to me that I haven’t already said to myself. I’ve been beating myself up over this and I’m sorry. All I can do now is apologize to you. If you want to be mad at me, be mad. If you want to yell at me, then yell. I can take whatever you need to dish out. But whatever you need to do, however you need to take out your anger, you take it out on me before you have to confront your baby girl because she needs your support and love right now and nothing more.”
Malcolm moved onto his feet. He muttered between clenched teeth. “Well, thank you for that but I think I’m fully capable of figuring out what my daughter needs.” Then without another word he turned and hurried out the door.
Outside the cold air hit him like a much needed slap in the face. He suddenly felt numb and deflated, all the wind knocked from his sails. He slid into the driver’s seat of his car but he didn’t bother to start the engine, suddenly unsure of where he was going or what he planned to do.
Malcolm suddenly felt overwhelmed, unable to fathom the magnitude of what he had to deal with. He suddenly felt like he’d failed Cleo, not to know that this had happened to her. And he had questions. Who had done this to her, and when? And what about Claudia? Was she caught up in this mess as well?
He was still holding tight to that phone and he opened it again, scrolling through the dark images. He paused on a photo of Cleo, the hazy figure of someone in the picture with her, his hands where they should not have been. Someone had touched his baby, stealing her innocence, and Malcolm was suddenly ready to kill. Something like rage swelled full and thick through his spirit. He threw the phone, hard, and it ricocheted off the dashboard to the floorboard beneath his feet. He slammed his fists against the steering wheel, over and over, until he didn’t have the strength to hit anything more. Tears clouded his vision and he slumped over the steering wheel sobbing like a baby.
Inside the coffee shop Cilla sat alone, fighting not to cry. The moment had gone as bad as she’d anticipated and she still hadn’t been prepared. Malcolm had been angry, his words harsh, but beneath all that he’d been hurt. Cilla’s heart was broken as she thought about the look that had been in his eyes, knowing that she had been partly responsible for putting it there.
Cilla rose from her seat. Grabbing both cups of coffee off the table she tossed them into the trash basket at the door. Stepping outside she felt numb, no longer feeling the cold morning air. Looking across the parking lot she saw Malcolm sitting in his car, his body hunched forward, his arms wrapped around his head. She could only begin to imagine the pain he was feeling.
Cilla headed toward her own car, tossing one last look over her shoulder. She’d only taken two, maybe three steps before turning an about-face. She swiped a hand over her eyes, brushing away the tears that had begun to fall. With an air of determination she strode quickly to Malcolm’s car. After opening the passenger door, she slid inside. Startled, Malcolm turned abruptly. Cilla held up both her hands, the stance defensive. The two sat staring at each other, neither saying a word. Minutes passed and Cilla swore she could hear both their hearts beating harshly in their chests.
She blew a deep sigh, then nodded ever so slightly. Malcolm shook his head, his tears still flowing. Reaching her arms out Cilla wrapped them around his shoulders, pulling him to her. He fell forward against her chest, easing his own arms around her waist. They clung to each other. He cried, unable to contain the hurt that consumed him. He cried and Cilla held him, her tears finally merging with his.
“Did Daddy say why we get to stay home today?” Claudia asked.
She and Cleo were sitting at the kitchen counter as their grandmother prepared their morning meal. Fried bacon scented the air and the aroma of blueberry muffins was starting to waft from the convection oven.
Mama Claudette shook her head. “No. Your father called and just said to keep you home today. He said he would contact the school for your homework.”
“Something must be wrong,” Cleo muttered. She tossed her sister a look and Claudia shrugged her narrow shoulders.
Mama Claudette lifted her gaze from the bowl of eggs she was whisking. “Your father will explain when he gets here. You two don’t need to speculate about his reasons for doing what he does. You just need to do what you’re told. Is that understood?”
“Yes, ma’am!” both girls chorused as they stole another glance at each other.
Minutes later the three were eating, their plates filled with scrambled eggs, bacon, muffins, and hash brown potatoes. Large glasses of freshly squeezed orange juice completed their meals. When Malcolm and Cilla entered the room, laughter rang through the space, the girls enjoying playing hooky with their grandmother.
“Good morning,” Mama Claudette chimed. Her smile dimmed slightly as she noticed the tension that creased her son’s brow. She pulled her smile tighter as she met Cilla’s stare.
“Hi, Mama Claudette,” Cilla said, her voice soft and low.
The matriarch nodded. “It’s good to see you again, Cilla. D
id you two have a good run?” she asked, assuming that both had gotten their days’ worth of exercise.
“I didn’t run, ma’am.”
The older woman nodded. “That coffee, huh?”
Cilla smiled. “That and your son.”
Mama Claudette laughed. She stole a glance toward Malcolm who met the look. Theirs was a silent conversation as she tried to discern the look on his face, his expression less than cheerful. She rose from her seat and moved to his side, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “Can I get either of you something to eat?” she questioned.
They both answered no, Malcolm staring stone-faced as Cilla shook her head.
Despite his best efforts Malcolm was unable to hide the emotion that consumed him, the wealth of it painted across his face. Both girls were eyeing their father curiously. Cleo met the look her father was giving her and she began to shake, a wave of anxiety falling over her spirit. Her head snapped from him to Cilla and back and in that instance she knew that what she had hoped to keep secret had been exposed. An uncomfortable silence swept through the room.
Cleo jumped from her seat, spilling her juice onto the table. Tears began to stream down her face, her cheeks swelling red from her rising blood pressure. She was suddenly angry at the world. “You told!” she screamed, directing her comment at Cilla. “Why did you tell?”
Cilla’s own anxiety rose tenfold. “I’m so sorry, Cleo!”
Malcolm moved toward his daughter. Resting his hands against her thin shoulders he pulled her to him, wrapping her in a deep embrace. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, holding her tightly as she stood shaking in his arms. “We need to talk,” he said softly.
“I’m sorry, Daddy! I’m so sorry, Daddy!” she sobbed, her tears dampening the front of his shirt.
“It’s going to be okay, kiddo. Daddy promises. Everything is going to be okay,” Malcolm said as he led Cleo from the room. He shot his mother and Cilla a quick look before the two disappeared up to the young girl’s room.
Claudia swiped her forearm across her eyes, her own tears blocking her sight. Cilla took a deep breath as she moved to the table and took a seat beside the young girl. Wrapping her arms around her shoulders she gave her a quick hug, rubbing her palm gently across her back.
“Is Daddy mad?” Claudia asked, lifting her gaze to Cilla’s.
She shook her head. “No. Your daddy’s just worried about you and your sister.” A wave of understanding seemed to sweep between them.
Mama Claudette stood watching, a host of questions spilling from her eyes. She crossed the room and joined them at a table. “Would someone please tell me what’s going on?”
Cilla looked at Claudia, her eyebrows raised. The little girl took a deep breath, biting nervously against her bottom lip. She wiggled fretfully in her seat before she spoke.
“The last time we went to Baltimore with Mommy, Cleo snuck out and went to a party with Candy Man.”
“Candy Man?” Mama Claudette’s eyes widened.
Claudia nodded. “He let her drink and she smoked and she didn’t get back until the next morning.”
“And your mother didn’t know?”
The girl didn’t answer, her gaze dropping as if there was something she was afraid to tell. The two women exchanged a look.
Her grandmother asked about Shanell a second time. “Claudia, where was your mother, baby?”
Claudia met the look her grandmother was giving her, blowing a low breath as if to dispel the burden that hung heavy over her spirit. “Candy gave her some money and told her to go to the dope house,” she whispered.
Mama Claudette bristled. “Baby girl, why didn’t you tell your daddy?”
The child shrugged, tears pooling at the edge of her eyes. “We didn’t want mommy to get into trouble.”
“Did you go to that party?” Cilla asked softly.
Claudia shook her head. “No. That was the weekend my cycle started and I had really bad cramps. Mama gave me a pain pill and it made me sleepy. I fell asleep.”
Mama Claudette nodded. “Where was Maxine?”
“Grandma Maxine was out of town that week. Mama didn’t tell Daddy because she didn’t want him to say we couldn’t go to Baltimore with her. And he would have made us stay home if he knew Grandma wasn’t there.”
“So you were at the house by yourself?”
Claudia nodded.
“Did Shanell know Cleo went to a party with Candy Man?” Mama Claudette asked again.
Claudia hesitated for a brief moment before answering. “Candy Man threatened to tell Daddy something bad about Mommy if she didn’t let us go to the party. He said if we went then she wouldn’t owe him anymore.”
“And they said all this in front of you and your sister?”
“No, ma’am. They were fighting in the bedroom and we were eavesdropping.”
Cilla reached her hand out to Mama Claudette, gently caressing the old woman’s shoulder. The two women exchanged a look and Mama Claudette tried to pull her full lips into a smile. She turned her attention back to Claudia.
“Did Cleo tell you what else happened at the party?” Cilla asked.
Claudia hesitated a second time then nodded. “I think it was bad,” she whispered, her head shaking vehemently. “It was really bad.”
Mama Claudette gasped loudly. Both of her fists were clenched tightly. Her face was flushed and she was visibly shaken. She took a breath and held it to calm her nerves. “Cilla, do you mind staying with Claudia while I go check on the rest of my family, please?”
“Not at all. We’ll be fine. Take all the time you need.”
“Thank you,” Mama Claudette muttered as she exited the room.
Claudia turned around to stare at her. Cilla met her gaze and gave the girl a smile, hoping her expression didn’t show the stress she was feeling. Claudia smiled back, lifting her lips into the slightest bend.
“Candy Man put those pictures on that website,” she said, staring intently.
Cilla nodded. “Is Candy Man the man in the pictures with your sister?”
She shook her head no. “His name’s Nikko. But Cleo doesn’t remember what happened. She thinks they put something in her drink. I should have told. I made it worse, didn’t I?” Claudia dropped her gaze to the floor.
Cilla reached out to give the girl another hug. “No. You didn’t do anything wrong. You were trying to protect your sister.”
“I just think we made a mess out of everything.”
“You and your sister can’t blame yourselves. And your dad is going to get it all fixed. But you and your sister need to trust him. If anything like this ever happens again, you have to tell him. And if you can’t tell him, you need to talk to someone.”
The girl nodded. “What’s going to happen now?”
Cilla paused, uncertain herself about what was going to happen next. She lifted her eyes to find Claudia staring. “Right now, you and I are going to clean the kitchen up for your grandmother. After that, we’ll see!”
When his mother entered the room, Malcolm had been standing at the window, his arms wrapped tight around his torso. Cleo sat on top of her bed, curled in a fetal position, tears still raining down her cheeks. He’d been fighting to contain his anger but as his daughter had spilled every last dirty detail he found himself wanting to rage.
Mama Claudette shifted her gaze from him to Cleo and back. He shook his head, unable to verbalize what was on his heart. She sensed his distress but she didn’t say anything. Moving to the bed she eased her plump body next to her granddaughter’s and pulled the young woman into her lap, gently caressing her hair.
No one spoke for minutes, the quiet in the room feeling thunderous. Both Cleo and Mama Claudette sat waiting for Malcolm to give them direction, neither knowing what was going through his head, unable to gauge his emotion. He finally cleared his throat as he moved to where they sat, coming to a stop at the foot of the bed. “I think you girls should call Grandma Maxine and head up to that shopping outlet. She n
eeds a break and I think spending time with all of you would do her some good.”
“That sounds like a good idea,” Mama Claudette said. “I’m sure we’ll have a good time.”
Cleo sat up, staring at her father. She rubbed the tears from her eyes, brushing her fingers across her cheeks. “Do you hate me, Daddy?”
His expression was incredulous. “Of course not!” He cupped her face between his palms. “Baby girl, Daddy could never hate you! I love you more than anything else in this world,” he said emphatically. “Don’t you ever forget that!” He pressed his lips to her forehead. “Now, why don’t you go find your sister so you two can call your grandmother Maxine. And let me speak to her before you hang up, please.”
Nodding, Cleo slid her thin frame off the bed. She turned to give her grandmother a quick hug. As she passed her father she threw herself into his arms, wrapping her own around his thick neck. He held her tightly, wishing for a brief second that she were five years old again when everything about her small world was good. When ugly and evil had just been words she didn’t understand. He kissed the side of her face and gave her a tap across her backside as he shooed her out the door.
For a brief moment Malcolm and his mother stood staring at each other. Both were struggling with a wealth of emotion that neither could comprehend. Mama Claudette finally broke the quiet between them.
“Was she . . . ?” The old woman bit down against her bottom lip, afraid to say what she’d been thinking. She took a deep breath. “Did he violate her?”
Malcolm shook his head. “I don’t know. She says that she drank and she smoked marijuana. She remembers someone taking off her clothes and she knows there were pictures taken. She says some man told her she was going to be a movie star. But she doesn’t remember anything else. At least not anything she’s comfortable telling me.”
“I think I need to call Dr. Smith and make an appointment for her to be checked. We need to have Cleo examined to make sure she’s okay. So we know exactly what we’re dealing with.”
Malcolm nodded. “Tell him it’s an emergency. The sooner he can see her the better. Hopefully he’ll have an appointment this morning before you leave. If not, then definitely as soon as you get back.”
Playing For Keeps Page 13
