by Amarie Avant
“All right.” Liam traveled down the hall and past an elaborate living room with a stone fireplace.
He took a deep breath before stepping into the den. Raven sat cross-legged on a cobalt couch, looking her usual gorgeous self. Black hair slicked in a ponytail, pink, pouted lips, jeans, and a one-liner shirt. The punchline held more emotion than her face, though, as she glanced over. Her cerulean eyes swept past him in disinterest and then back to The Rock and one of his action-packed movies.
“Hello, Raven.”
No answer.
“Did you take the prenatal vitamin today?”
She reached over for a glass of Sprite when he re-asked his question. She gave his jeans and vintage Armani shirt a filthy look. Not his usual work attire. Not at all. The shirt strained over bulging biceps. “Why aren’t you at work, Liam?”
Hazel eyes squinted at the tiny bubbles in the cup. “Is that water or soda?”
In response, Raven turned up the volume. Jaw tensed, Liam rose and left the room. Not two minutes later, he returned holding a glass of water. He opened the blinds to a sunshiny day, casting a glare on the screen, and sat next to her. “Did you take the pill?”
“You confiscated my drink.”
“Consider the fresh glass of water before you.”
“I took the damn thing.” She kept her eyes on the TV.
When they were little, she'd get mad and refuse to speak to him. Liam would shut up, wise enough not to conjure up her wrath. He tried now. But in ten minute intervals he asked, “How are you? Is everything okay? Are you in pain? How’s the baby?”
All of which she didn't respond to. The credits were finally rolling when she murmured, “I’m getting rid of it.”
He didn’t say anything for a while. She hadn’t expected the pregnancy. He wasn’t the type to argue or complain—except for that night he’d obliterated her heart. His voice cloaked her in shame as he consented. “I’m with you, whatever choice you make.”
He tried to take her hand, but she crossed her arms. She asked in a monotone, “Will you leave now?”
“I think Royael will be here soon. I'll wait in the living room. I won’t bother you any more today, my Raven.” Liam stood. “I love you.”
Picking up the remote, she pressed the power button. Though he towered within the arched doorframe, Raven didn't regard him, refusing to look his way or acknowledge his love. With the next movie preview on, Raven flipped channels, as if waiting for the door to close. Less than a minute later, he knelt between her legs.
“I promise that I’ll never leave you, Raven. I’m staying. You’re stuck with me, no matter how long it takes.” Heart bleeding, searched Raven’s face for an expression. She looked right through him.
He walked out.
In a daze of anger, sadness, and pain, Liam sat in the living room, legs wide, elbows on knees, head in hands. How the fuck do I get through to her? The recent series of events continuously roared through his mind. Coupled with his family's treachery in the past, their love—or what was left of it—didn't stand a chance.
At that moment, he honestly just wanted his best friend back. Almost two hours later, the front door opened.
“Thank you, Royael, you're such a good niece to baby Trinity.” Charlene’s voice echoed down the hall.
Then Royael came into Liam's line of vision, toting a diaper bag which she dropped upon seeing her father.
“Daddy!” Royael flew into his arms. Charlene said she was going to change Trinity and would be back soon.
He stood in the living room as Royael showed him her photos. All the while, his thoughts were in the den with Raven. How can I get through to her? She’s so cold. He hated himself for not fighting harder while Raven was pregnant with Royael.
Now I’m back at square one again. His family had been snatched away from him. Elise had ruined what he’d had with Raven as a child. Jonathan called after seeing Raven’s totaled car on the front page of a gossip magazine—one that rivaled the Delacroix’s Scandalous publications—and needless to say, it included a controversial headline. During their detached conversation, Jonathan mentioned Elise finally confessed that Liam wasn’t his son. Maybe Jonathan had always had his doubts. That’s why Dad mostly kept me at an arm’s length. Their call ended cordially, but Liam wasn’t sure what that meant for their relationship.
Determined to reunite the only family he knew, Liam asked his daughter, “What does your mommy say about your new baby brother or sister?”
“Oh, she says a lot of stuff, Daddy.”
“Like what …?”
“Well, Mommy said the baby makes her sleepy.” Royael twirled a long pigtail as they walked.
“What else does she say?”
“Nothing.” Royael shrugged. “I want to spend the night with you! We gotta go shopping, Daddy. We have to make sure Santa—”
“Not today. I need you to go read a book to your mom. I’m sure Saint Nick knows exactly what you want.” He winked, smiling through the pain. “I promise that after Christmas, we’ll have all the time in the world.”
Chapter 42
For a while, Raven smiled. She mirrored her baby's demeanor while they opened up Christmas gifts at the crack of dawn. And then she humored Royael while reminding her that all the gifts had yet to be opened.
Now, her mother’s house was bustling with family, from Uncle Oscar, his wife, and their children, to cousins she had only visited on the holidays. They'd all asked curious, concerned questions about her car accident. Raven had slipped away as Royael played with her cousins.
An auburn sun peeked through cypress trees. For the first time in a while, Raven thought of photography. She imagined capturing the rain’s pitter-patter on the crystal-blue pool as she closed the French doors. Sinking into the thick, white cushions, she lifted her feet off the deck, favoring her left ankle. Sighing in comfort, she snuggled under a burgundy cashmere blanket.
Don't go to sleep, Raven warned as visions of Royland crossed her mind.
She guessed she must have fallen into a dreamless slumber when Liam spoke. “Merry Christmas, Raven.”
She chose to keep her eyes closed, hopeful he'd leave. Please think I’m sleeping. The sound of his boots on the wood planks and the movement of the cushion next to her indicated that he hadn’t taken the hint. Huffing, Raven mumbled, “Merry Christmas.”
He placed a flat, rectangular gift on her lap. At a snail’s pace, she slipped her index finger between wrapping paper with shimmery Christmas trees and a whole roll of Scotch Tape. He’d packaged it himself. A jewelry box. She thought of a smart retort about him buying jewelry, and then determined the less communication they had, the better. Opening it, she saw a white-gold heart locket. Using her thumb, she unclasped the elaborately patterned locket to two small pictures.
Breathtaking. She studied a girl with black hair and frazzled shoulder-length pigtails. A cocky smile. Eyebrows thick—twelve-year-old thick. I remember that day. I was so happy. On the opposite side was a picture of a fat boy with chipmunk cheeks and kind eyes. The sunlight against his blond, curly hair. He’d be handsome one day, but he didn’t know it yet.
The shots came from a photo that would forever be imbedded in her memory. They were at the river in Rover Valley, North Carolina. Uncle Oscar had taken the picture as she and Liam held up a big fish while Grandpa Otis bragged. Throat heavy, she saw the pride in her grandpa’s eyes. Liam and I were so close. Every earthly object Raven had, she’d gladly give away to go back to that time.
Start.
Over.
Raven felt the side of her mouth twitch. A grin fought against her. She wanted to smile, but she wouldn’t. The locket snapped shut, and she placed it back in the box, throwing the two happy children back in the dark. That’s where they should be. Nobody should have to remember those good times—you can’t remember the good ones without the bad ones. She wrapped it back in the paper and handed him the gift. “Thanks, but you shouldn't have. I didn’t get you anything.”
Liam unraveled the box once more and pulled out the locket. “I had this picture when I first realized I liked girls. This girl was the only one I wanted, ever.” He looked up at Raven as he pointed to her side of the locket. She rolled her eyes. “I took the picture with me when I went to France. It got me through years while I was away. It was there when I came back, and like a fool, ran away to college.”
“Is that so?” Please stop. I love you so damn much but this will never work for more reasons than you know.
He wore a wry smile, adding, “I did some real stupid stuff to the girl. Guess you don’t know how important someone is until they’re gone.”
“Guess so.” She bit her bottom lip so as not to readily forgive.
“I left her and my child. I’ll be trying to make up for that for the rest of my life.”
“No need.”
Raven tried to get up, but he placed his hand on her knee. “The picture got me through the pain I caused this beautiful girl. I didn’t know how I would ever see her again or apologize.”
Through gritted teeth, she replied, “Maybe she doesn’t care anymore.”
“Yes, she does.”
Annette’s voice rang in her ears. The usual words of wisdom: “Just forgive”, “God is love”.
“Damn it, Raven, I didn’t cheat on you with Camille, and Charlene told me about the jail visit. I was a fucking fool. I just realized the moment I told you Jonathan wasn't your father a few months back, I never even consoled you. Never considered what it meant. I'd forgotten about Charlene stating that your father …” He paused, the vileness of her lineage on the tip of his tongue. “Raven, I apologize.”
Raven wrapped the blanket around her tighter, as if the mere act were shielding herself from his words. Those words were all she needed to mend her crumpling heart. Liam, her kryptonite, was her world.
“I will always love you. There wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t think about you while in France. I believed you wrote the letter to me, Raven. It wasn’t my fault. I swear, when I got your letter, I was coming to see you. I was going to force you to keep the baby, but my grand-père …” He seemed to be looking for any sign that she cared, but she didn’t show one. It was far too late for them now.
“If you can’t forgive me …” His voice tapered off, offering her another chance to persuade him otherwise. She concentrated on the truth: Liam was not an option.
“You don’t have to forgive me, though it will still be my life’s mission that you do. We’ll both be on our deathbeds with me trying to make it up to you,” he gave a wry smile. Her face was devoid of emotion. He huffed. “Re, my greatest fault in life is giving up on you. And I am a man of my word, my entire family knows it. You’ll have to learn. I’m leaving now, but I’ll be back tomorrow. The day after that. The day after that. Year by year if we have to, I will never give up on you, Raven.”
This was all I ever needed from you, Liam, from day one. She forced herself not to blink, eyes burning.
His last words came out as a mere whisper. “All right, Raven, I promise not to hold any grudges if you get rid of the baby.”
It’s too late. I've made too many mistakes, Liam. Too many to turn back.
Liam strolled to the sliding door.
“Liam, do not come over tomorrow.” Face as frigid as the air, she turned to look at the peaceful pool. A tear slipped down her cheek, landing on her collarbone. God, I’m suffering, too. I love him, and I know he loves me. But I have just done something unforgiveable.
He walked out.
Her mind flashed back to the day that he’d compared her to Elise. That day, her body had been submerged in quicksand. Suffocating. Slowly dying. One entity in the universe could save her.
Liam.
She’d gone to him in her weakness, needed comforting about Royland Alder. Fuck, was it too late? Or did Liam’s heart just bleed for me? Will he still love me if he knew everything …? A sob escaped her lips, and Raven opened her eyes.
“What if he still can save me?”
Her thumb caressed the swirly shaped heart that dangled in her lap. Can “what if” be safer than not knowing …? She gripped the necklace in her hand and rose slowly, favoring her right ankle. She limped back into the house.
“Where’s Liam?” Her chest heaved. The pit of her empty stomach felt heavy. Her family grubbed on dessert. Some, she knew, were on their second or third slice. Damien wasn’t even using a dessert plate. He had slices of different pies and cakes on a dinner plate.
“Just left,” he said, spearing a fork into a slice of pound cake.
“Daddy left me here again! He said after Christmas, I’d go with him! I didn’t even get all my gifts, because he gave gifts to the other kids!” Royael pouted, swinging a designer doll by the hair. Mookie, that tired bear, was nestled in her other arm, comfy and cozy—her baby.
Fingernails digging into her palms, Raven walked as fast as she could. Heart beating, throat clamped shut, she hurried out the front door. Sprinkles came down around her. Tiny bumps prickled her shoulders and arms. She looked the family member’s cars scattering the sidewalk. Across the street, about a block down, Liam opened the door to the Chevelle. He brought the classic.
“Liam,” she called.
He turned around.
“What if I see you as the fat little boy I once knew in Bellwood?” She bit her lip, pushing away all thoughts of her misdeeds. “What if I just want my friend back?”
With every step he took closer to her, she could breathe again. Inhale and exhale freely. She breathed Liam in as he swooped her into a bear hug.
***
They sat in the Chevelle. He told her everything that happened since he’d gone to college. She’d consoled him as he realized how much of a role Pierre played in keeping them apart.
“When I moved to Paris, Grand-père had a loft ready for me, bought me a new Porsche, and everything changed. I felt so guilty for leaving you, that it took so long for me to call …”
They told each other everything—well, she’d been as open as she could be about the visit with Royland. The comfort in Liam’s eyes read that he understood her need for more time. He pulled her hand into his. The subject switched gears, and every conversation began with “remember that time …” and ended with them laughing until their sides ached.
“You can’t tell me that I didn’t have your back.” Raven chuckled.
“Yeah,” he started sarcastically, “you had my back after an array of best-friend-peer-pressure activities. Let’s not forget my concussion in the meadow. Picture us about ten; you had my back when you forced me to eat the batter of Miss Wimble’s sock-it-to-me cake, though I’d already been promised a slice of fudge cake.”
“Dang, you know the batter tastes better prebaked. I didn’t want to get caught eating my favorite cake all by myself.”
“We did get caught. All you said—in one long winded phrase—was ‘Liam made me do it’. Yup, you had my back.”
“Hey, hey, at least I stuck around and we both got our asses beat together. It didn’t hurt much. Miss Wimble was already a thousand years old by then.” She leaned back on the headrest, beaming from ear to ear, remembering a few more “ass beatings” she’d signed them up for. “All right, so, I was a crappy friend.”
“Nah, you were the best friend anybody could ever have.” He looked in her eyes. “You made me live.”
When he licked his lips, her gaze took in his perfectly-shaped mouth as every inch of her body went hot. They’d put the Chevelle to good use as seniors. Maybe they’d even conceived Royael in the front seat with her on top of him, or possibly the backseat with him on top of her. Slowly, she stopped gawking and tore her gaze away from well-defined arms. Letting the beating of her heart diminish, she started another round of “remember when we…” plunging the heat of the moment back into the friend-zone. She’d dreaded this tactic in the past, while dating Chris and seeing Liam on the side. Right then, she needed the friend-zone more than
the desert needed rain. She needed to keep him safe from the fact that she was blood-linked to the Black Beauty Murderer. Just the serial killer’s moniker had the potential of smearing the image his family tried so hard to maintain.
As dusk claimed the sky, they sat in the car and made promises, best friend promises. Hand in hand, they ambled back into the house. Everyone was sitting in the living room, on the sectional couches or rugs, bellies protruding, watching television.
“Raven, you haven’t opened your gifts.” Remote in hand, Damien paused the TV. They had been watching the football game, so there was a round of grumbling as he did so.
“It’s okay, Dad,” Raven tried with a smile, “I opened Royael’s gifts earlier, so let’s not start a mob.”
Her sympathy landed on deaf ears. Charlene placed a wingback chair in the middle of the room. Raven took a seat, and Uncle Oscar handed her scattered presents that were under the tree.
“I’m surprised there isn’t coal in that,” a cousin joked as she pulled out a sweater from a candy-cane gift bag marked “Granny.” It matched Charlene’s, which had a lopsided Christmas tree.
“Gosh.” Raven toyed with the locket around her neck as she continued to open presents. She even got Royael’s ceramic handprint wrapped in newspaper. They’d threatened to kick her out—for the sake of a paused football game—when she’d stopped to put on a pair of leather Chanel boots with spikes that Charlene had bought, to which, she giggled. “Y’all know my boot fetish is fierce!”
“All right, ReRe. This is the last one. Somebody really loves you,” Oscar assured with a whistle as he handed her an impeccably wrapped navy blue-box. The shiny paper was sleek to the touch, not a crease out of place. A gauzy silver ribbon was like the icing on the cake.
Raven rubbed her hands together as the box sat in her lap, then pulled at the tie. The ribbon floated to the carpet. Biting her lip in excitement, she pulled the top off the gift box. “It looks unnecessarily expensive. Y’all know I don’t like flashy things.” Which was true, but she’d relish the care someone had taken on the gift wrap.
