Delilah's Daughters

by Angela Benson

  Tia shook her head. “Not today,” she said. “We have a full schedule.”

  “When don’t you have a full schedule?” Victor asked, walking toward Tia. When he reached her, he put a hand on her cheek. “I wish Mr. Washington had let me dress you,” he told her. “But you were too special for me back then.”

  Tia stepped back so his hand fell away. “And now you’re special and I’m not.”

  His lips turned down in a sad smile. “That’s not what I meant, Tia.”

  “It’s the truth,” Tia said. She turned to Veronica, dismissing Victor. “Get dressed. We have to get a move on.”

  Veronica did as she was told and went to the dressing room, all the while trying to decipher what she had just seen and heard. It was clear that Tia and Victor had a history. It was unclear what kind of history, though. As she took off Victor’s precious dress and put her own simple sundress back on, she told herself to keep her nose out of it.

  When she reentered the main salon, Tia stood fingering the material of an indigo gown on one of the racks that lined the walls. “I’m ready,” she said to get Tia’s attention.

  Tia didn’t turn to her. “Go ahead and ask,” she said, still fingering the garment.

  “Ask what?”

  Tia turned then, and for a brief moment Veronica thought she saw sadness in her eyes. “About me and Victor.”

  Veronica wanted to know, but she refused to ask. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “And you’re not a very good liar. You’re going to have to practice more. So ask.”

  “Did you and Victor used to date?”

  Tia shook her head. “Victor wasn’t the star he is today when I met him,” she said. “So, no, we never dated.”

  Was Tia saying that her standards had been so high that she wouldn’t date anyone who wasn’t a star? Veronica wondered if her personal assistant knew how small that perspective made her seem. Of course, she couldn’t tell her. They didn’t have that kind of relationship. “Oh,” she finally said, not knowing what else to say.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” Tia said. “You’re thinking that it was my loss because now Victor’s a major designer and I’m a lowly personal assistant.”

  Not exactly, but close enough. “I wasn’t thinking that at all.”

  Tia pursed her lips. “Sure you weren’t.”

  Veronica didn’t know how to respond, so she said nothing.

  Tia stepped closer to her. “A word to the wise, Veronica. Just because you want to be a star doesn’t mean it’s going to happen. Just because Legends is doing all of this for you doesn’t mean your album is going to be a hit. And if that album is not a hit, you’ll be history quicker than this.” She snapped her fingers. “And Veronica Y will be over before she even gets started.”

  Veronica stepped back. Why was Tia saying this to her? And then it hit her. “Were you ever a Legends artist?”

  Tia nodded. “I was you two years ago. And look at me now.”

  A million questions rolled around in Veronica’s mind. “What happened?”

  “Reality happened. Legends may be one of the best studios in the country, but even they can’t guarantee success. A lot of forces have to come together at the right time for an artist to hit it big. And it’s not all about singing ability.” She gave a dry laugh. “Singing ability is the least of it. So if you really want this career you’re being offered, you’d better step up your game, listen, and follow directions. Regardless of what Victor tells you about your lovely breasts and his dresses, remember that Legends is guiding your career. Turn on them and they’ll turn on you. And don’t act like a diva until you earn the title.” Tia took a deep breath. “Now, does that answer your questions?”

  “Yes,” Veronica lied. In reality, she wanted to ask Tia each of a million questions that had come to her mind, but she knew that door was closed. She wondered if there was a way to open it again.

  Chapter 24

  I should have told her, Tommy Johns thought for the hundredth time since he’d gotten the call from Morgan Sampson yesterday. Why didn’t I tell her? he asked himself as he strode from the lower-level parking deck at the Birmingham-Shuttlesworth International Airport toward the meeting rooms on the same level. Until today, he hadn’t even known the airport had meeting rooms. Leave it to Morgan to know more about Tommy’s hometown airport than Tommy did.

  Tommy found room G-5 easily enough. He sucked in a deep breath. I really should have told Delilah, he thought one last time before pulling open the door.

  Morgan looked up from his seat at the table. When he saw Tommy, he stood to his full six feet. His hair was now grayer, and he was a little thicker around the midsection, but otherwise the years had been good to him. “I wasn’t sure you were coming.” He reached out his hand.

  Tommy took his old friend’s hand and gave it a strong shake. The two men had known each other for more than twenty years. Tommy had kept his secret, his and Delilah’s, for all that time. “You shouldn’t have come, Morgan.”

  “I know,” he said, sitting down, “but this is a conversation we had to have in person.”

  Tommy took another deep breath. “You can’t see her.”

  “I have to, Tommy,” he said, an unfamiliar pleading in his dark brown eyes. Morgan Sampson was a best-selling Grammy-winning and Dove Award–winning gospel producer. He was the talent behind the hottest gospel acts for the last two decades. His face wasn’t known to the public, but he was a rock star among gospel artists. And here he was seated in a dingy meeting room at the dinky Birmingham airport begging Tommy for help.

  “Delilah’s not ready,” Tommy said.

  “I’ve waited for three years. How much longer will it take her to get ready?”

  “You gave up your rights,” Tommy reminded him.

  “I didn’t have a choice.”

  Tommy quirked a brow. “We always have a choice, Morgan. You chose to walk away. You chose to give up your parental rights.”

  Morgan looked away. “I know I did, but there was nothing else I could do. You remember how it was back then. I was riding my first gospel hit, making a name for myself. The scandal would have ended my career, my marriage, and Delilah’s marriage. I didn’t have a choice. It was what Delilah wanted.”

  “It was what she said she wanted. Don’t forget, she had Rocky breathing down her neck.”

  “He was breathing down mine too. He made it very clear that the only way he’d forgive her was if I’d walk away and let him raise my daughter as his own. At the time I couldn’t decide if he was a saint or a sadist.”

  “Rocky was neither. He was a man who loved his wife despite the fact that she had cheated on him and gotten herself pregnant by one of his so-called friends.”

  Morgan flinched at his words. “I was his friend,” he said. “I didn’t mean for it to happen. She was lonely, and I’m only human.”

  Tommy understood fully. Rocky hadn’t been a very good husband back then. He was on the road most of the time, playing gigs, leaving his family to fend for themselves while he was away. Delilah had been lonely. Even Tommy had seen it. Unlike Morgan, he hadn’t taken advantage of her when she was vulnerable. “It’s too late for excuses.”

  Morgan looked toward the windows. “It’s too late for a lot of things.” He turned back to Tommy. “But it’s not too late for others.” He took a deep breath. “I want to meet her, to get to know her. She needs to know who I am.”

  Tommy shook his head in frustration. “Not now,” he said again. “Delilah’s not ready. You know what’s going on with her girls. She has enough on her plate.”

  “I’m not doing this to hurt Delilah.” He met Tommy’s eyes. “I’m running out of time, Tommy.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Morgan took another deep breath. “I’m dying, Tommy,” he said. “Six months to a year. That’s all the doctors give me.”

  Tommy’s growing frustration subsided, replaced by concern for his old friend. Apparently,
Morgan’s looks didn’t tell the full story of his health. “I didn’t know. You never said anything.”

  “I’ve only known for a couple of months.”

  “That’s more than enough time for you to tell me.”

  “I didn’t have anything to say at the time. I had to do my processing first. And then I had to let Margaret and the kids process it. They know, Tommy. I had to tell them. They deserved to know they had another sister. It would have been cruel to let them find out when my will was read.”

  “You put her in your will?”

  Morgan looked away. “I’m not a bad man, Tommy. I couldn’t forget my oldest child, no matter how hard I tried. She’s a part of me, and I’m a part of her. I have to see her.”

  It was Tommy’s turn to sigh. “Why don’t you talk to Delilah yourself?”

  Morgan lifted a brow. “You know the answer to that.”

  Yes, Tommy did. In addition to signing away his parental rights, Morgan had agreed to never contact Delilah again. And he hadn’t. But he’d kept tabs on her and their child. Through Tommy. He should have told Delilah, but he hadn’t. He would have to tell her now. Morgan was determined to see his daughter before he died.

  “Will you help me out, Tommy? If anyone can talk some sense into Delilah, it’s you.”

  “I’ll do what I can.”

  “You’re going to have to do more than that,” he said. “I’ve made plans to see Alisha this weekend at the ASCAP conference.”

  “It’s too soon,” Tommy said. “Delilah needs to prepare her. You can’t just show up in her life and tell her you’re her biological father. That would be cruel to her and to Delilah.”

  “I said I was going to see her. I didn’t say I was going to tell her who I am to her. I have an opportunity this weekend, and I’m going to take it.”

  “You’re being selfish.”

  Morgan shrugged. “I know, but I don’t have any other choice. Time is running out for me. This is something I have to do while I’m still reasonably healthy.”

  “I’m sorry about your health, Morgan. I really am.”

  Morgan nodded. “I know. You’ve been a good friend to me over the years. Because of you, I know about my daughter. Now I want to know her. Knowing about her is not enough.” After a few moments, he added, “I’ve written a couple of songs for her. I want the opportunity to sing them to her before I die. I need her to know that I loved her and that I never forgot about her. You won’t deny a dying man, will you?”

  Tommy felt the sincerity of his friend’s words, and his heart softened. He guessed that Delilah’s would as well. “I’ll speak with Delilah, but I can’t make any promises. She’s emotionally exhausted, but she’ll never admit it. I don’t know if she’s ready for any of this.”

  Morgan sat back in his chair. “Life works like that sometimes,” he said. “Do you think I was ready for the hand God dealt me?” He shook his head. “But I got ready. That’s the beauty of it. He really doesn’t give us more than we can bear. I believe that for me, I believe it for Delilah, and I believe it for my daughter.”

  “You’ve got a lot of believing going on.”

  Morgan chuckled. “Believing is easy,” he said. “Waiting to see that belief come to fruition is the hard part. I know. Do you think it was easy for Margaret and the kids to hear about my illness and then hear about my secret daughter? No, it wasn’t. It was hard, but they finally came around. I’m not sure they’ve forgiven me, and I don’t know if they ever will, but they still love me. That’s all I can ask. Their love is all I need.”

  “You don’t want their forgiveness?” Tommy asked, finding it hard to believe he didn’t.

  “I want it,” Morgan explained, “but not for me. I want them to forgive me so they don’t carry that weight around with them. Unforgiveness will be a cancer to their spiritual body as much as this cancer is to my physical body. It will kill them.”

  Chapter 25

  Veronica had to drag herself out of bed on Thursday morning. The glow of life as a budding superstar had been tarnished a bit by the barrage of Veronica Y improvement suggestions. Of course, her always chipper husband was there to encourage her on her journey. Now she and Dexter sat in the waiting room of Jonas Public Relations, waiting to have their lives dissected.

  “Mrs. Timmons,” the receptionist at the desk called, “Ms. Jonas can see you now.”

  Veronica grimaced. “It figures I’d have to go first.”

  Dexter kissed her cheek. “That’s because you’re the star.”

  She frowned at him as she got up. “Right.” She headed toward the door the receptionist opened for her. Before she entered, she turned to her husband and said, “Pray for me.” His laughter was the last thing she heard before the door closed behind her.

  She followed the receptionist down a short hallway to an office. An older woman with grayish hair, probably in her early fifties, met her at the door. “You must be Veronica,” she said, extending her hand. “I’m Margaret Jonas. Come on in and make yourself comfortable.”

  Veronica followed the older woman into her office.

  “Why don’t we sit over here?” Ms. Jonas pointed to the round table with four chairs in the far corner of the office. “We’ll be more comfortable.”

  Veronica followed Ms. Jonas to the table and took a seat across from her. “I’m sure Tia told you what to expect,” the older woman said. When she nodded, Ms. Jonas said, “Good. Then we can get started.” She flipped over a sheet of paper on the pad in front of her. “As you know, Legends is in the process of conducting extensive background checks on you and your husband.”

  “I thought they’d already done that,” Veronica said.

  “Not fully,” Ms. Jonas explained. “A thorough check can take months. My job is to take what they find and what you and Dexter share with me today and determine the best way to address it in the media. So the first thing I need to know is whether there is anything in your background that can be used to embarrass you or your family.”

  “Not that I know of,” Veronica said.

  “No scandals, no abortions, no adultery, no stealing, no cheating?”

  Veronica shook her head. “You’d have to meet my mother and sisters. Believe me, my family is too boring for scandals.”

  The older woman gave her a grim smile. “Or they’re very good at keeping them hidden.”

  “I guess that’s possible,” Veronica said, though she couldn’t imagine her mom or her sisters with any type of scandal in their lives.

  “If there’s something there, our investigators will sniff it out. All we know now is that you know nothing about any scandals. We can work with that. If anything does turn up, we can always portray you as shocked and disappointed because you didn’t know.” Ms. Jonas flipped the sheet over. “Now I have to ask about your husband and your marriage. Any adultery, cheating of any kind, reported or unreported domestic violence, separations, divorce filings, ex-spouses, hidden children, anything? In other words, how solid is your marriage?”

  “My marriage is very solid,” Veronica said. “Dexter and I argue as most couples do, but nothing that we don’t get over in a matter of days.”

  Ms. Jonas put down her pencil. “Look, Veronica, it’s important for you to be honest with me. I’m not here to judge you. I’m here to help you, but I can only help if you tell me the truth. Everybody has something in their life they wish the world didn’t know or that makes them feel a bit of shame.”

  “Well, there is one thing,” Veronica said, feeling as though she were about to betray her husband. “Dexter was up for tenure last year at his university, and he didn’t get it. That’s been a sore spot with him and with me.”

  “Do you feel he was treated unfairly?”

  Veronica nodded. “I felt he deserved tenure. He works hard and he does good work.”

  Ms. Jonas jotted on her pad. “Did they give any reasons for his denial?”

  “None. They never do. And that’s not fair.”

  Ms.
Jonas nodded. “So your husband is out of a job?”

  “Actually, he’s working on a book.”

  Ms. Jonas looked up at her and smiled. “Now, that’s a good answer and good spin. Instead of focusing on your husband being unemployed as a result of being denied tenure, we’ll focus on the opportunities he’s pursuing. Can you tell me a little about this book? Of course I’ll ask him, but I want to get your take on it as well.”

  “He’s chronicling my career with Legends. You know, small-town girl makes good. That sort of thing.”

  “Oh,” Ms. Jonas said. “I was hoping it was something independent of you.”

  “It won’t be his first book,” Veronica said, feeling a need to defend Dexter. “He’s written several. I’m sure that’s one of the reasons Legends wants him to write the book.”

  “That’s all good,” Ms. Jonas said, jotting on her pad again. “But it will go over better in the media if his new career is not so closely tied to yours. We don’t want him perceived as a kept man, or worse, as a leech trying to make a name for himself off his wife’s popularity. Either of those portrayals will make both of you look weak. I’ll have to talk to Mr. Washington about it.”

  Veronica didn’t agree with Ms. Jonas’s assessment of how she and Dexter would look to the public, but the more she thought about it she had to concede the woman could be right. Even though she never thought of Dexter as a kept man or a leech and never would, she could see how others would. Sad to say, but she had thought that and worse of some of the lesser-known husbands and significant others of successful female artists. But Dexter wasn’t like them. Until now, he’d had a job and supported them.

  “Didn’t you used to be in a group?” Ms. Jonas asked, interrupting Veronica’s thoughts about Dexter.

  “Yes, with my two sisters. The group was Delilah’s Daughters. We were runners-up in the Sing for America competition.”

  Ms. Jonas nodded. “I remember now. I saw your family on television. I thought you were good. I’m sorry you lost.”