Then Sings My Soul (The Langston Family Saga Book 2)

by LaShonda Bowman

  Omar, on the other hand, never judged them or made them feel like outsiders. At the same time, he never did what the other kids did, either. Like try to pressure them to do the things Mahalia had already told them not to. He would, however, now and then, break the rules if he thought it was something completely innocent.

  Like when all the kids at school were talking about the new Eddie Murphy movie. When it came out on video, Omar sneaked Kristina into his house while his parents were at work and surprised her with the VHS rental. It became her favorite movie, so he bought the tape and whenever they could, they’d watch it while eating Moon Pies and drinking RC Cola.

  In so many ways, Omar made her life worth living when she didn’t think it was. A man like that was hard to forget.

  In the Valentine's Days since, Kristina received everything a woman could dream of—diamonds, cars, vacations and even handbags that cost more than most vacations. But no gift, however expensive, ever came close to that one jar of pickles.

  When Tamia answered the door, she nearly knocked Kristina over. “Krissi, he's here!"

  Kristina backed away. "What!”

  "No, no, no. Not here, in my house, here. Here, in Atlanta, here!"

  She grabbed Kristina's hands and pulled her inside. Once Kristina was settled into one of Tamia’s baby blue, overstuffed chairs, she continued.

  "I don't know a lot. But I do know that he's a commercial real estate investor and developer and he's lived in Atlanta for years now. He runs some type of housing charity with his friend. A guy named… I don't remember. But anyway, they find homes in good neighborhoods, renovate them and donate them to needy families."

  Tamia took a breath and looked to Kristina, eyebrows lifted, waiting for a response.

  "That’s…good."

  Tamia rolled her eyes. "That's not just good. It proves my point! Years may have passed but Omar is the same guy that we knew back in the day."

  Tamia swiped a card off her coffee table and handed it to Kristina, along with the cordless phone.

  Kristina looked at the card her sister handed her. Seven digits. Seven digits were all that stood between her and the man she hadn't seen for eighteen years. She tried to take a deep breath but couldn't get her lungs to open fully. She put her hand on her chest.

  Tamia noticed she was trembling and moved to sit next to her. She took the card and phone and dialed the number, before handing the phone back to Kristina.

  With each ring, Kristina became more and more lightheaded. Finally, the line clicked and she heard a voice. It took her a few moments to realize that it was a recording and not Omar himself. But it didn't matter, just the sound of him was enough to bring tears to her eyes. Immediately, she ended the call.

  "I can't do this." Kristina choked the words out, doing what she could to keep from completely breaking down. "You can call him. Xavier can meet him. But I don’t want any part of it.”

  Kristina got up to make a dash for the door but Tamia stopped her.

  "It's just a phone call, Kristina.”

  Kristina spun around to face her sister. "No. It's not. It’s—“ With each passing moment, Kristina found it harder and harder not to cry. "I know he's moved on with his life. I've always known that. And I accepted it. But his family—his wife and kids—they were just some blurry figures in the background. If I talk to him, if I know more about his life, they'll come into focus. They'll have names and faces and they'll be real. And if they’re real…" Kristina lost her battle to keep her composure. And Tamia finally understood.

  “If they’re real, you'll have to let go. For good.”

  Kristina covered her face with her hands, her body trembling with sobs. Tamia hugged her.

  "I'm so sorry, Krissi.”

  Kristina shook her head. "No. It’s what needs to happen. I’ve been stupid to hang on for this long. It's just a fantasy and I know that. And I will let it go, but I have to do it from a distance. I can't be the one to make that call."

  Tamia rubbed her sister’s arm. "You don't have to. I will. Okay?"

  Tamia went back to the phone and dialed the number. She listened to the message, then said, “Hello. Omar? I don't know if you remember me, but my name is Tamia Langston…"

  When Omar got home from church, Marisa's Infinti Q60 was parked smack in the middle of his driveway. He glanced at his dashboard clock. She wasn't supposed to be there for another half hour. He shook his head. They'd already had a rather heated discussion about her letting herself into his house, but he was determined not to get into it with her today.

  Today was all about Miss Chloe.

  At any moment, the vendors would be arriving. The event planner he hired was giving his sunroom, veranda and lawn a royal makeover. By the time she and her crew were done, it’d be a fantasy land fit for a princess and her court.

  Omar grabbed the garment bag containing the custom made replica of Cinderella’s dress from his backseat and went to the house. No sooner than he stepped through the front door, Marisa got in his face.

  "Where have you been? I've been waiting here forever!"

  Omar walked past her and carefully laid the garment bag down on the table in the entryway.

  "First of all, keep your voice down. Where's Chloe?"

  Marisa yelled up the staircase. "Chloe!"

  The little girl came out of her room and peeked over the banister, before making her way slowly down the stairs.

  "Put your shoes on. We’re leaving."

  Chloe stopped on the step she was on and looked at her dad. "But I thought—“

  Omar felt his temper go from zero to sixty, but tried to keep his emotion out of his face or voice. He forced a smile. "Baby, go back upstairs. I’ve got to talk to mommy, then I'll be up with your first surprise!"

  Chloe jumped up and down. "Yay!" She bounced back up the stairs and into her room. Once Omar heard the door close, he turned to Marisa.

  "What's wrong with you?"

  He was used to her acting a fool. She did it on a regular basis. But this was just crazy, even for her.

  "What's wrong with me? I've been waiting all damn day! That's what's wrong with me! You're not the only one with plans. My family is taking her out to eat."

  "Not today, they're not. She’s supposed to be here overnight and you know it. We've talked about this at least three times and you're not taking her anywhere. I don't know what's going on with you but I suggest you calm down. Right now. Don't play games with me, Marisa. My daughter is not a pawn.”

  “Overnight?” She folded her arms. "I don't know what you're talking about."

  “Don’t give me that. Me and Brock have been planning this party for months."

  "You and Brock?" She snorted. "No wonder people think you're a couple. Running around, planning little girls’ parties…"

  "What people, Marisa?"

  Now he knew there was something going on with her. The three of them had known each other for years and the last thing anybody would ever accuse Brock of was being gay.

  "I don't want him hanging around here when it's your turn to have Chloe. I don't trust him."

  "Since when? He's her godfather!”

  "Why do you always take his side?"

  Out of the corner of his eye, Omar noticed movement outside the window. A couple of white trucks and a van pulled up to the curb.

  "Marisa, I don't know whether you're having some kind of mental break or just a really bad day. Honestly, I don't care. Today is my daughter's birthday and no one, including you, is going to ruin it. If you think you can get it together, you're welcome to stay and enjoy it with her. If not, you need to leave and come back in the morning."

  "I'm not staying unless Brock gets uninvited."

  Omar picked up her handbag from the table and tossed it to her. "Then I'll see you in the morning." He walked to the door and opened it.

  Marisa's anger was so palpable, he half expected her to pick up the glass vase at the center of the table and aim it at his head. Instead, slowly and ca
lmly, she walked up next to him and leaned in close.

  "You were always choosing someone over me." Her eyes were bright with fury and wet with tears. "Always wanting someone else other than me. Well, you're going to regret it. I promise you. You're going to come to regret it."

  Looking her in the eye, he knew she meant it. Whatever it was she had planned, she had every intention of hurting him. He opened his mouth to speak, but right as he did, the event planner reached the front door with several people behind her, their arms full of imported Winchester Cathedral roses and English garden style chandeliers.

  "A beautiful day for a princess party, isn't it?" The event planner seemed absolutely unaware of the tension between Omar and Marisa as she walked in and past them, followed by her entourage.

  Not taking her eyes off Omar, Marisa responded, her voice bright and cheery. "It certainly is." She walked out the door. Omar followed her, but was stopped.

  "Daddy? Where are you?"

  Whatever was going on with Marisa, he was going to have to deal with it later. He went back into the house and picked up the garment bag. Chloe was standing on the staircase, her entire body abuzz with excitement. He tried his best to give her his biggest smile.

  "So, baby girl, are you ready for your first surprise?"

  Chapter 5

  Chloe was so in love with the dress Omar had made for her, she hardly knew what to do with herself. And when he brought out the Swarovski crystal studded shoes, his prediction of her fainting out of sheer glee nearly became a reality. Once he placed the sparkling tiara on her head, she was a genuine, head-to-toe princess.

  So much so, she decided it was necessary to have a royal tea party. He was glad, as it gave the event planner and various vendors time to transform the party space without her suspecting what was going on.

  It was all as magical as he’d hoped. The table set aside for party favors looked like it belonged in a royal treasury. Jewel encrusted tiaras were laid out for the girls and shining, silver crowns awaited the boys.

  Sheer, silver fabrics draped the tables and served as a backdrop for the cake—a scaled down reproduction of the plain pumpkin, turned diamond inlaid carriage.

  But the highlight of the event would be the playhouse that he’d hired a specialty building company to design and construct. The castle-like structure had been brought over by the construction crew and reassembled in the backyard the night before. After Atlanta’s premiere interior designer furnished it to look like something straight out of a little girl’s fantasy, the event planner had workers arranging its turrets with thousands of tiny, twinkling white lights.

  Sterling and crystal lanterns were strategically strung along the pathway from the lanai to the castle, making it a truly magical sight. Walt Disney couldn't have done a better job himself. Omar should've been thrilled. The party was turning out to be even more than he’d hoped. Chloe was sure to be walking on air when she saw it all.

  And yet…

  He couldn't stop thinking about Marisa and how she’d acted. Obviously, something had happened. After their separation, there was always a thin layer of hostility involved in their interactions, especially on her part. But this was different. She was in attack mode from the moment he walked through the door. And the threat? Whatever had gone on between them, she’d never said anything like that.

  She knew good and well the only weak spot he had was Chloe. And that's what concerned him. Would she sue him for full custody? Or worse, would she just up and disappear, taking his daughter with her?

  Though it was a Sunday and he knew the offices were already closed, he decided to call his family lawyer. He needed to do something. Even if it was just leaving an urgent message, requesting a call back first thing in the morning.

  Omar picked up the handheld phone on the side table in the living room. The path between the front door all the way to the sunroom was abuzz with activity, florists going out, photographers coming in. Definitely not a place to have a private call. He cut across the living room and past the catering staff moving about like worker bees in the kitchen. He went into his office and closed the door behind him.

  He was about to dial when he noticed something. The last received call on the ID screen. A local number. But it was the name that got his attention.

  T. Langston

  He read the name over and over again to make sure he’d seen correctly. He'd only ever known one T. Langston in his life. Tamia, Kristina's baby sister. His mouth suddenly became dry and his heart beat a little faster.

  Could it be?

  He used the button to scroll back through the numbers. Whomever it was, they’d called twice. The first call, about seven minutes before the second.

  Immediately, he dialed his home number and waited for the prompts to lead him to his voice mailbox. He held his breath as he skipped through previous missed calls.

  Finally, he got to the time around which a voice mail would have been left. But instead of what he hoped to hear, all he got was: “End of new messages. Dial one to hear saved—“

  Omar let out the air he was holding in his lungs and sat on the edge of his desk, surprised at the depth of his disappointment. He rubbed his hands over his face. It probably wasn't her anyway. What were the chances? None of the Langston sisters had any reason to contact him, especially Tamia. She was so young the last time he saw her. He doubted any of them even remembered his name.

  He stared at the number again. He could always call. Just to be sure. His thumb hovered over the keypad as he listened to the activity in the kitchen just outside his office door.

  He finally dialed, but when he did, it was not the mysterious Langston number. It was that of his lawyer.

  Recording Kristina's appearances just so he could see her smile was the only connection he had to her. The truth was, a romantic reunion with her was little more than a foolish fantasy. What they had was long gone. It was amazing, but it was in the past. And what he had left, a few recorded interviews he couldn't bear to erase from his DVR, were just fuel for a dream that wasn't ever coming true.

  None of it was real.

  Chloe, on the other hand, was real. He needed to focus on that one true thing. He needed to focus on keeping his daughter in his life.

  Chloe’s birthday party looked like a scene right out of a fairytale fantasy.

  All the children were dressed up in their Sunday best, wearing white, light gray and baby blue, as requested in the parchment scroll party invitations.

  Chloe was the perfect little hostess. The crystals sewn into the tulle skirt of her dress shimmered furiously under the glow of the sterling lanterns as she played with the other children. And between her tiara and her scepter, she looked every bit the part of Daddy’s Little Princess.

  But Omar was happy and proud to see she didn't act like one. She flitted like a sparkling hummingbird from child to child, making sure all her friends were having enough fun and cake.

  The castle playhouse was unveiled at dusk and even the adults became speechless when the structure lit up. “It looks like it’s been dipped in sugar,” one mother exclaimed to another.

  Chloe must have felt the same. She was so happy at the sight of it, she burst into tears. She clung to Omar and cried, “It's so pretty, daddy! Thank you thank you thank you thank you."

  Later, he leaned against one of the pillars on the outdoor patio and watched her with one of her friend’s little brothers. The boy couldn't have been more than three, but Chloe treated him like he was her baby. She took him inside the castle and pointed out all the special touches, just as her father had done for her less than a half hour before.

  "Mr. Williams, you’ve outdone yourself. And that’s saying a lot!"

  Omar turned to find a woman next to him and he recognized her as one of the mothers from Chloe’s school.

  “I thought the Little Mermaid theme you did last year was the most magnificent thing I’d ever seen. But this?” She gestured over the whole of the magical looking lawn. “This is every
little girl’s fantasy.” She grimaced. “What am I saying? This is my fantasy."

  They were laughing and enjoying the view when Brock snuck up behind Omar.

  "She's right. You really went all out." Brock turned his attention to the woman. "He even arranged for there to be an evil queen. Although I have yet to actually see her…” He looked around at the other guests. “Speaking of Marisa, shouldn't she be at her own daughter's party?"

  The woman gave a weak smile and quickly excused herself to get more punch.

  "Nice. Make the guests uncomfortable."

  Brock leaned on the opposite side of the pillar and crossed his arms. "Hey, I was gonna call her something else but I thought evil queen sounded more elegant."

  Omar shook his head. "I’m not in the mood to talk about her right now.”

  Brock put his punch on the standing cocktail table beside them. "What happened?"

  Omar exhaled. "I think she may try to get full custody of Chloe."

  Brock straightened up. "What?"

  Omar recognized the look on his face. It was the expression he got when they were younger and on leave, at some bar getting drunk and Brock was primed for a fight.

  "I don't know for sure, but something’s going on. And Chloe is really the only leverage she has, so…”

  "I don't know how you even put up with that woman! She can't do this. She's not even fit to be a mother, so why in the world would she take away the one decent parent Chloe has?"

  Omar shrugged.

  "What are you gonna do?"

  "The only thing I can do at this point. Pray and prepare. I can't imagine my life without my daughter."

  "Anything you need—whatever it is—I’m with you." Brock shook his head and snorted. "I'm not surprised though. She's a vampire. She sucks people dry. I told you that a long time ago."

  "I know, I know. And if it’d been any other time, any other weekend… Me and Marisa never would’ve happened."

  "That's exactly what I mean. She knew you weren't interested. You had made that abundantly clear. She saw you were in a low place after that concert and the fangs came out. She took advantage of you then and she's trying to do it now. It's not gonna happen. Not this time.” Brock exhaled. “I still regret that I wasn't on base that weekend. But like I said, I’m here now. I know you're a Christian and all, but I'm not. I fight dirty, just like she does."