“And look who you’ve become,” she bragged in a matter-of-fact tone. “A well-known chef who owns your restaurant, a homeowner of prime real estate in Lincoln Park before the age of thirty, with a beautiful wife who adores you, and two loving daughters. I will not apologize for the decisions I’ve made for our family.”
“At what cost?” He railed aloud. “My sanity? Was it worth it, mom? Were the secrets you kept from me really worth my peace of mind?”
Chapter 15
Cedrick ended the call with Priscilla. He screamed to the top of his lungs and listened to his voice echo off the lake and the pyramids. Cedrick walked the open land until his fingers were numb and couldn’t feel his face.
Shoving gloved hands in his pockets, he jogged back to the car, still shocked at what he learned. Now, what was he supposed to do? Sierra County, California was a little over an hour away. Cedrick knew this because Mitch took Cedrick skiing there with his family once over winter break. He had the best time, in part because he got a reprieve from dealing with his father.
Cedrick started the engine and cranked the heat to the highest setting, cupping his hands together and blowing warm breath on them. As the red hue returned to his flesh, Cedrick lifted his phone. He had several missed calls from Sierra and Victoria.
He called his wife.
“Oh my gosh, Cedrick. Where are you? Are you okay?”
“Slow down, baby. I’m fine,” he assured, rubbing his hands together. “At least physically, anyway.”
“Please come back to the house,” Sierra pleaded. “I need to put my eyes on you.”
“Not yet, but soon.” He splayed his fingers in front of the vents. “Could you get that letter?”
“Sure.”
Cedrick listened as papers ruffled in the background. Those few seconds gave him clarity. He had to follow through, or he’d live with regret for the rest of his life. The what if’s would continue to haunt him.
“I got it,” Sierra said, coming back to the phone.
“What’s Haashim’s address and phone number?”
“Wait. Cedrick, what are you about to do?” Sierra inquired, waiting for her husband’s response.
“I have to see him for myself, Sierra. I have to put this all to rest.”
“Come get me. I’ll go with you,” Sierra implored. “You don’t have to do this alone.”
“I know I don’t, but I feel I have to,” he replied. “I’ll be fine, sweetheart. I’ll call you when I make it there. I love you.”
* * *
There’s no going back now. Cedrick mused as he pulled up to a structure that resembled a country club but was actually an assisted living facility for seniors. The landscaping was immaculate; the oversized green awning had gold monogrammed letters that beamed like Batman’s signal in the sky; the place screamed money.
Cedrick whistled aloud. It would seem his father had landed on his feet. “Not too shabby,” Cedrick said as he walked inside and approached the front desk. “Hello, I’m here to visit Brian Dalton.”
“Who?” the older gentleman asked, glancing up at him from behind his thick frames.
Cedrick brows knitted. He knew he entered the correct address into the navigation system. “Brian Dalton,” he repeated, pulling out his phone to call Sierra for verification.
“I’m sorry, there isn’t a Brian Dalton listed in our database. There’s another assisted living facility seven miles from here.”
“Thank you,” Cedrick replied, heading for the exit.
Suddenly, he stopped short. Maybe this was a sign. He texted Sierra to ask for confirmation of the address. She texted the exact address that he’d entered into the navigation app on his phone earlier.
Cedrick sighed. It had been fifteen years. It’s possible his father had moved on or died. Either way, the possibility that he wasn’t getting any answers today didn’t sit well with him.
He sulked, trudging back to his car, not sure why he was sad when The Words of the Adhan pierced the air over a loudspeaker. The Islamic call to prayer had just begun. Cedrick glanced at his watch, his head snapping upward toward the sun, remembering Islamic teaching as if it were yesterday. Nodding, he uttered, “late afternoon prayer.” He Googled mosques near me. Two seconds later, a mosque appeared, point seven miles away on the screen. His father was undoubtedly at this facility.
What was he thinking asking for Brian Dalton? His dad wore his given name like a badge of honor, though he’d never been an honorable man.
Cedrick went back inside. “I’m sorry to keep bothering you, sir. I’m here to visit Haashim Muhammad.”
“Sign in, please,” the man instructed. He handed Cedrick a visitor’s pass. “Room 213, but you’ll have to wait about fifteen minutes or so, he’s in the middle of prayer.”
“No problem.”
* * *
Cedrick waited in the community room. He welcomed the company of strangers; they kept his mind from wandering. The joy on their faces was evident as they spent time with loved ones and other residents, playing cards, knitting, and working crossword puzzles together.
He never had that kind of interaction with Haashim. His dad wasn’t interested in anything outside of Islam. Why was this meeting important? Cedrick didn’t know why he was so adamant about finding his dad or what he’d say once they were face to face. The letter wasn’t enough. Cedrick needed visual confirmation that the man was alive. He’d figure out the rest as it unfolded.
Pulling out his phone, he dialed Priscilla. “I’m in Sierra County, California. Dad’s in an assisted living facility right across the Nevada border.”
The line was so quiet that Cedrick thought the call dropped.
“Mom. Are you there?”
“Son.” Priscilla sighed. “I’m not sure what you’re after––– Absolution? Acceptance? I don’t know, but I want you to be prepared if those things don’t happen. I need you to be okay––– for yourself and your family. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“I do.”
“You’re a good man, in spite of your upbringing and you are a doting father. Don’t lose sight of that or who you are, searching for something you may never find.”
“I hear you, ma,” Cedrick replied, “I know you’re trying to protect me now as you did then, but you still should’ve told me and let me decide for myself.”
Priscilla didn’t utter a sound.
“I have to go,” Cedrick said, noting the shift in the sun. “I love you.”
Cedrick took the stairs to the second level to give himself more time to gather his thoughts. Room 213 was directly across from the stairwell. He glanced in each direction down the hall. The place resembled a hotel with a line of doors, industrial carpeting, and crystal light fixtures.
He rapped on the half-open door, before entering. When he stepped in, he saw a man in pale blue scrubs assisting his father off the floor and folded his prayer carpet.
“Haashim, you have a visitor.”
The older man turned around slowly with the help of a walker. “Who are you kidding Akbar, no one visits me.”
“Hello, dad.”
Both men turned toward Cedrick.
“I didn’t know you had a son,” Akbar said, holding Haashim by the arm until he steadied himself. “Come in, As-salamu alaykum.”
“Wa-Alaykum al-salaam,” Cedrick returned the greeting of peace unto you, stepping further into the room.
Less than a minute in his presence and Cedrick fell into an old routine by returning the Islamic greeting. He could’ve just said, hello. He gazed into his father’s eyes. They were cold, just the way Cedrick remembered them, but with a hint of sadness.
Akbar helped Haashim ease onto the recliner. “Let me know if you need anything,” he said before leaving and pulling up the door.
“I wasn’t sure I’d ever see you again,” his father admitted, glaring at Cedrick who stood firm, mere inches from the exit.
“Same here.”
“I know you didn’t
come here to stare at me,” Hasshim snorted, pressing the buttons on the side of the recliner. “What do you want?”
The feeling of tiny needles pricked every nerve in Cedrick’s body. He clenched his teeth so hard they throbbed. His father was the same cantankerous man he’d always been. His body may be broken, but his tongue still cut sharper than a sword.
“Nothing.” Cedrick turned to leave. “This was a mistake.”
“Boy don’t walk away when I’m talking to you,” Haashim’s voice boomed, paralyzing Cedrick’s movement.
Cedrick balled his fist, trying to contain the blazing anger inside of him. “I’m a grown man, and you will respect me.”
Letting out a throaty chuckle, his father said, “Get on out of here, then.” Dismissing Cedrick with the wave of a hand. “You’re not worth my time.”
Reaching for the TV remote, Haashim turned his attention to the show on the screen.
“What did I ever do for you to treat me this way?” Cedrick asked, crossing his arms. “Why don’t you love me?”
Flicking the channels, he ignored Cedrick’s question.
Cedrick had enough of his father’s theatrics. He charged forward, snatching the remote from his father’s hand. Haashim attempted to raise his arm up and away from his son, but gravity yanked his frail frame back down.
“What did I do to deserve a father like you?”
“I took pity on my wife’s bastard son,” he smirked, staring defiantly at Cedrick. “You weren’t mine. You were just a problem I inherited.”
“Come again?” Cedrick said as an electric current surged through his body. The shock was keeping him rooted to his spot.
“That’s right,” Haashim spat, his eyes flashed with anger. “I’m not your biological father.”
“You’re a liar,” Cedrick growled in his father’s face. He was so close they could have kissed. “You’d say anything to hurt me.”
“Ask your mother.”
Cedrick stood to his full height and glowered at the man who raised him. Hasshim was a monster from a special breed. As much as Cedrick wanted to discredit his paternal lineage, he had a feeling it was true. He wouldn’t have brought Priscilla into the mix if it wasn’t.
“So, why be bothered if I wasn’t your child?”
“Because I loved your mother,” he replied matter-of-factly, tapping a wrinkled finger on the chair arm. “I tried to love you, but you wouldn’t conform. You always had something to say; wouldn’t stop asking questions. You needed to learn who was the head of the household.”
“And that made it okay for you to beat me?” Cedrick snapped, tossing the remote in Haashim’s lap.
“You needed to learn discipline. As your father, my rules weren’t to be questioned.”
“The only thing I learned from you is how not to be. Honestly, I’m relieved I’m not your son; that your DNA isn’t flowing through my veins.” Cedrick eyed the stranger before him with contempt. “You don’t ever have to worry about seeing or hearing from me again. The son you didn’t want.”
“Close the door on your way out,” Haashim countered. He turned his attention back to flicking the channels on the remote.
Cedrick rushed to the exit, then grabbed the doorknob. He took one last glance over his shoulder and narrowed his eyes. “May Allah have mercy on your soul, because I never will.”
Chapter 16
Cedrick stumbled out into the parking lot and doubled over, placing his hands on his knees for support. His breathing was choppy. He should’ve listened to his mother and left things as they were. He gained nothing, but new heartache, going to see his father. Or who he thought was his father. His mind corrected. How could one man be so hateful?
“There he is.” Cedrick heard a familiar voice say. His head snapped up from between his legs. The rapid movement almost caused a crook in his neck. That’s when he spotted Sierra running toward him with Victoria close on her heels.
When she reached his side, Sierra threw her arms around him. “Are you okay,” she asked panting, reaching up and cupping his cheeks. “I’ve been worried sick.”
“I’m glad you’re here,” he said, trying to tamp down the alternating anger, nausea, and shock he felt at Haashim’s declaration. “Both of you,” he said including Victoria. “Let’s go. I need to get as far away from this place as possible,” Cedrick remarked, he spared a final look at the building from the corner of his eye.
“Everything’s in the car. We can head to the airport now if that’s what you want,” Sierra suggested. She linked their hands together as they headed for the car.
“Yeah … I’m ready to get out of here.”
Cedrick approached Victoria. “Thank you for the enlightenment. I wasn’t ready for it, but I needed to know.”
Tears drifted down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Cedrick. For all of it.”
He nodded. “Me, too.”
“Are we good?” she asked hesitantly.
Giving his best friend a grateful nod, he moved forward and pulled her into his arms. “Always. I appreciate you looking out for me, as usual.”
“We’ll head to the airport from here,” Sierra said, interrupting their embrace. She placed a hand on Victoria’s shoulder. “Thanks for looking out for him.”
“No sweat,” Victoria replied, hugging Sierra. “Take care— both of you.”
* * *
The following day, Cedrick went to visit his mother. He didn’t feel comfortable asking the type of questions he needed answers for over the phone. So, without warning, he showed up at Priscilla’s house.
“Hey, son,” she said with a solemn expression. “I’ve been expecting you.”
Cedrick stared in a daze. How did she know he was coming to visit?
“Don’t look so surprised. I knew you’d come.” Priscilla stepped aside to let him enter.
Cedrick followed his mother into the living room. He plopped down on the couch, but Priscilla perched on the very edge as if she was prepared to take flight at any moment.
“How’d you know that?”
“When I didn’t hear back from you after we last talked, I knew you’d spoken with your father. Haashim being the man he is.” She took a deep breath and swallowed. “I knew he wouldn’t make things easy or probably gave you half-truths.” Priscilla tilted her head to the side. “Am I right?”
“That depends on you,” he said, crossing his arms.
Suddenly unable to sit still, Priscilla got up. “I was in the middle of cooking breakfast,” she called over her shoulder as she headed for the kitchen. She didn’t bother checking to see if Cedrick would follow. “You hungry?”
“Not really,” he replied as he rose to his feet and strode behind her. He sat down at the table while she finished preparing her meal.
“Nonsense.” Priscilla grabbed two additional eggs from the refrigerator. “You need to eat something.” She smiled at him. “Scrambled or sunny-side up?”
“Is Haashim my father?”
A crisp crackling sound permeated the air, accompanied by gooey liquid that oozed from Priscilla’s closed fist before dropping to the floor. She opened her hand and shook the broken eggshell pieces into the sink. After washing her hands, she claimed a seat next to Cedrick.
“No, he’s not,” Priscilla confessed, drying her hands on a towel. “I don’t know what Haashim told you, but–––”
“That he wasn’t my father and if I didn’t believe him, then to ask you,” Cedrick said with a questioning grimace. “Are you going to deny it? Send me off on another quest for truths you could’ve told me from the beginning?”
She bristled at his stern tone. “My intentions have always been to protect you.” Priscilla reached out to stroke his hand, but he shifted away. She took several deep breaths before continuing. “You were conceived in rape.”
The chair legs scraped against the floor as Cedrick bolted out of his chair. Priscilla rose to follow him, but he shook his head in warning. She lowered herself back to her chair.
“Tell me,” he whispered in a harsh tone.
“I was a virgin when I met your father. We were young and in love.” A slight smile lifted the corners of her mouth for a hot second before being overshadowed with pain and anguish. “The night before we were supposed to sign the Islamic marriage contract, I went out with friends. They insisted on throwing me a bachelorette party, but I begged them not to. Eventually, they gave up, and we hung out at the park across the street from a disco club. The music was so loud that we had to shout to hear each other talk.”
Cedrick listened with an acute ear, wondering how a girl’s night out resulted in a sexual assault.
“Drunkards spilled out of the club and into the park.” Priscilla closed her eyes, biting her lip. “I recognized one of the men. He was the Qadi.”
“The who?”
“The Islamic judge who was supposed to marry us,” she said, with a quivering voice.
Cedrick remembered learning about the Qadi during a Quran study session with Haashim.
“The Qadi was beyond tipsy, but sober enough to not recognize me.” Priscilla paused. A single tear skirted down her cheek. “The Qadi slurred when he summoned me to go inside the club with him. I didn’t want to go, but I felt like I didn’t have a choice. Once we got close to the building, he pulled me around the back into a dank alley and said, you caught me,” referring to his drinking, Priscilla explained. “Then he yanked me so close that I thought I’d vomit from the reeking smell of alcohol. It was everywhere.” She shuddered in recollection. “His mouth, clothes, even his skin. He hissed, “Since you have a one-up on me, I need to have a one-up on you to guarantee your silence,” Priscilla cried, her knee bouncing uncontrollably under the table. “Then … he raped me.”
The finality of her story and the pain in her voice was what wrenched Cedrick from his anger-induced haze. Instantly, he sobered and rushed to her side.
Betrayal of Trust Page 10
