Color of Deception (13 page)

Chapter 34

“So I heard what transpired at your house yesterday,” Noah said before taking a swig of beer. He watched as Pete positioned himself against the pool table to hit the balls with a cue stick. Two of his balls went into pockets.

“And?” Pete studied the pool table as Noah readied himself for his turn.

“I have to admit, I was shocked about what Leah told me they saw. My sister’s only been gone a lil over a year. But you’re a grown man so you can do whatever you want.”

Pete turned and looked at his brother-in-law. He didn’t like what his comment suggested. “Are you suggesting that I didn’t love my wife?” He was indignant. “That I’m not mournful of her death?”

“Hey,” Noah said holding up his hands in surrender. “I’m not suggesting any such thing.”

“Well it sure as hell seems like it!” Pete snapped. “Your wife and your daughter shouldn’t have just walked into my house announced.”

“Come on man. You have to understand that they would be shocked by what they saw. They’ve only seen you with Moriah. Debra is a nice woman and all…”

“Yeah, and what?”

“I just think it’s too soon.” Noah said matter-of-factly.

“Too soon for what, Noah?” Pete was already irritated with this conversation. How could they have any opinion on how he was supposed to live his life, grieve, unless they themselves had walked a second in his shoes.

Noah looked away from Pete. He trained his eyes on the pool table, trying to find the right way to voice his opinion. “It’s too soon for you to move on with another woman.”

“Is that right? This coming from a man that still has the pleasure of going home to his lovely wife every day,” Pete barked. He threw down his cue stick. It hit the side of the pool table, fell to the hardwood floor and rolled away from Pete’s feet. “I know you lost a sister too, but she was my wife! The love of my life, the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. So until you’ve walked a minute in hell like I have for the past year since her death, don’t you dare tell me how I am to grieve or when and how I am to move on. Because I will NEVER get over losing Moriah!” Pete slapped his hand on the pool table which stung instantly from contact.

Other patrons in the sports bar playing pool nearby turned to watch the commotion Pete created with his outburst.

Noah stared at Pete, shocked by his words and actions. “Peter, I’m sorry,” Noah said from a distance. He feared being near him in case he wanted to take his anger out on him physically. “You’re right, I was out of line.”

Pete walked over to the side of the pool table where his beer sat. He picked it up, the cold beer bottle soothed his sore hand. He took a long swig, still fuming, but hoping the cold beer would help calm him down. He knew his brother-in-law was sorry because he used his full name – Peter. But darn if Pete wasn’t angry that Noah would even dare lecture him on when to move on with his life. Hadn’t he suffered enough over losing his wife? He just recently repented to God for having harbored up hate in his heart for black people because a black man killed his wife. He’d selfishly turned his back on Carlisha because of it. He was beyond remorseful and disgusted with himself because of that. And he tormented himself over his developing feelings for Debra – feeling like he was cheating on his wife for having desire for another woman. Now he’d finally made a decision to release his sorrow to God, to allow God to help him to heal and to finally allow himself to be happy again. Only to have Noah tell him he’s moving on too soon –
the heck?

“I loved Moriah Noah. You can’t even imagine what I’ve been through since she’s been gone. So please don’t ever tell me how or when I am to move on with my life.” Pete rested the beer bottle down on the edge of the pool table.

“Got it! I know you loved my sister, there’s no doubt about that.”

“Good!”

Chapter 35

“Hey, how are you?” Debra asked walking into the kitchen carrying a bag of groceries. She placed the heavy bag on the counter.

“Hmmm,” Rachel responded with her back at Debra while she made a bottle for Carl who was sitting in his car seat that was on the center island.

“Hello handsome,” Debra greeted Carl tickling his bare feet. He gave her a gummy smile and cooed in response to her. “Is my little man hungry, are you, are you?” She tickled his feet again as he flapped them up and down in excitement of seeing her. He cooed showing his dimples. Debra bent over and kissed his face.

Rachel finished making Carl a warm bottle and turned to get him out of the car seat. “Excuse me,” she mumbled with an attitude reaching for him over Debra.

Debra moved to the side, ignoring Rachel’s rudeness. Is she really going to be childish about walking in on me and Pete kissing? “So what did you guys do today?” She turned and walked back over to the kitchen counter to remove the items she purchased out of the grocery bag.

Debra was baffled as she watched Rachel walk out of the kitchen into the family room right off the kitchen, completely ignoring her questioned.
I can’t believe this!
Debra placed the can of formula that she just pulled out of the grocery bag onto the counter. She walked out of the kitchen and into the family room where Rachel was sitting in a rocking chair feeding Carl. Debra’s chubby little godson sucked contently on the bottle as he looked around taking in all the fascinating things his young eyes saw.

“Rachel, do you have a problem with me?” Debra asked while standing at the entryway to the family room off of the kitchen. She didn’t have time to beat around the bush to figure out what Rachel’s problem was. And she certainly was shocked by Rachel’s negative behavior – it was so unlike her.

Rachel huffed a breath. “I see you’ve had no problem coming in here acting like you’re the
lady
of the house,” Rachel accused, slowly but lethal with each word she released from her mouth. Ever since she’d walked in on Debra and Pete kissing on the couch she’d developed ill feelings toward Carl’s godmother. She felt like her uncle was betraying her Aunt Moriah by being with another woman. She figured it was probably childish of her to think that way – but that was how she felt nonetheless and she would not allow another woman to come into her dear aunt’s home and act like she ran the place. Aunt Moriah was like a second mother to her and she couldn’t let her be disrespected like that.

Debra felt like she was just slapped in the face with the undercover insult, especially coming from Rachel of all people. “Excuse me?” Debra shifted her right hand to her hips.
Did I just hear her right?

“You must think you really have it made now don’t you?” Rachel shifted her arm a bit to accommodate the weight of Carl in her lap as he continued to suck the bottle. She looked up toward Debra staring at her. “You get to be mommy to Carlisha’s son and sneak in and get your claws into Uncle Pete. That must be quite an accomplishment for a divorced woman with no kids. You get an automatic family.”

“Rachel!” Pete shouted walking fully into view as he appeared into the family room after arriving home and entering the house through the garage door that entered into the kitchen. “How dare you talk to her like that? What the hell has gotten into you?”

Rachel looked at him with shock, but no shame for what she was just caught saying to Debra. She lifted Carl to her shoulder to burp him.

Debra spun on her heels and ran away from the room. Pete tried to catch her by her arm but she sidestepped him. Tears escaped down her face as she snatched her purse off the counter in the kitchen and ran out of the house to the safety of her car to release the floodgates of tears. Rachel’s words cut her deep and it only awakened the doubts, low self-esteem and guilt she felt for her life being the way it was. Here she was thinking she was getting her life in order after a bitter divorce. Going back to college for her degree, finally accepting that God’s will for her life wasn’t for her to have children of her own – all that to only be reminded of the failure she felt she truly was. She cried until she felt she couldn’t shed another tear, then started her car and drove off.

“Have you lost your mind?” Pete walked further into the family room. “I can’t believe what you just said to Debra, she didn’t deserve that.”

“She’s the one in here acting like she owns this house.”

“Is this about you walking in on us kissing?”

Rachel continued to pat Carl on the back to get him to burp. “This is Aunt Moriah’s house. I can’t have another woman in her acting like she’s the woman of the house.”

“This is my house!” Pete pointed a finger to his chest. “If I want her, you or anyone else in here,
I’m
the one who chooses not you.” He snapped. “You were way out of line young lady and you sure as hell are going to apologize to her.”

“Burp,” Carl burped softly. Rachel moved him from her shoulder and wiped residue of milk from his mouth with a bib. She walked over to a baby blanket that was spread on the floor and laid him down for tummy time.

“How could you have another woman in Aunt Moriah’s house? You and Debra shamelessly having a fling under her roof,” Rachel said bravely, standing inches away from her uncle. If Pete wouldn’t stand up for her aunt, his wife, she sure wasn’t going to back down.

“First of all, let me remind you that I’m the elder in this conversation. So don’t you dare cross the line with me about what I do in my own home. I don’t like your tone or your attitude right now.” Pete turned and started pacing the length of the family room. “I’m surprised at you. Just months ago you were the one telling me I needed to stop grieving Moriah’s death through hate – yet you’re the one in here throwing hatred at Debra. That’s so unlike you Rachel.” Pete turned and faced her now sitting in an arm chair watching Carl play on the floor.

“Yes, I wanted you to stop grieving her death that way. But. How could you just start dating another woman?”

“Debra and I aren’t dating.”
Not yet at least.
“And whether or not we are is none of your business. I know you love your aunt and you’re being protective of her, but you have to admit that what you said to Debra was wrong.”

Rachel sat quietly for a couple minutes and Pete doubted that she was going to say anything or at least appear to be remorseful for her actions toward Debra.

“I have to go.” She stood up abruptly, walked over to a side table and picked up her purse. “I love you Uncle Pete, but I don’t agree with whatever it is that’s going on between you and Debra, and especially in Aunt Moriah’s house.” She started for the door not looking back.

Pete threw up his hands in frustration after she loudly closed the front door behind her.

He looked down at Carl on the floor still on his tummy trying to reach for a baby toy in front of him. “Oh Carl. Women, you can’t live with them and you sure as heck can’t live without them. Best you learn that early.” He walked over and picked up Carl off the floor. He kissed him on the cheek then swung him around in the air cheerfully with his hands firmly on both sides of the baby’s chubby waist. Carl giggled in excitement showing his gummy smile. “I love you little guy!” He hugged Carl to his chest. He looked down at the contrast of his light cream skin to Carl’s dark mocha complexion. “You saved my life!”

Chapter 36

Porsha pulled up to the mechanic shop and parked in the first available parking spot near the main office. She slammed the car door shut and sashayed over to the garage where mechanics were busy working. She caught some male attention as she strutted with a purpose across the parking lot. Her natural hair was in its signature style – a huge afro puff ponytail high on her head. Huge gold round earrings hung from her ear and bounced as she walked. She had on a tight black and white pencil skirt that was four inches above her knees and she wore a white blouse and strappy red heels. As a part-time hairstylist it was her mission to always look fabulous. Her haters would never catch her looking a hot mess – she dared not give them the satisfaction.

“Where is Roger?” she demanded from one of his coworkers. A light skinned tall guy that was bent over working under the hood of a truck.

He lifted his head up and looked at her like, cussing under his breath for banging his head against the hood while doing so. “Well damn Porsha, can a dude get a hello first?” he joked, raking his eyes over her body from head to toe in pure male appreciation.

“Whatever, Will,” she snapped. “Where is Roger?” She thrust her right hand on her hip.

Will sensed that she was brewing for trouble, especially with all the drama Roger had told him about her recently. “Yeah I think he went for lunch,” he lied. He stuck his head back under the hood.

“When did he leave?” She shifted her weight from her left foot to the right, still standing with her hand on her hip.

“You just missed him,” Will started tinkering with the truck engine.

She turned and stormed off. “I will wait for him in the car and he better not keep me waiting long.”

When Will looked up from the hood and saw that she was gone, he jumped down off the stepping stool he was standing on and walked briskly to the back of the shop. “Hey man, your wife is out there looking for you and she don’t look too happy. I told her you just left for lunch,” Will warned Roger who was sitting on a bench in the tiny air-conditioned space eating a sandwich.

Roger placed the sandwich he was eating down on the napkin in front of him and wiped crumbs away from his mouth with the back of his hand. “Ah hell. What does she want?” He took a swig from his can of soda. “I swear that woman is a thorn in my flesh!”

“Yeah but she fine as hell!” Will chimed in. He wiped his greasy hands on a rag that he pulled from his dark blue overalls.

“You can have her if you want, just promise me I never have to see or hear from her again.”

“Damn, she’s that bad?” Will stood with his back against the door.

“The devil don’t want her.” Roger tossed his empty soda can in a plastic waste basket near the door where Will stood. “I wonder if she saw my car parked around back. I should sneak out now.”

Will walked over to the water cooler in the left corner of the small room, grabbed a plastic cup and filled it with water. “Yeah, but won’t you still have to face her at home?” He threw back his head and drank the water.

Roger stood up. “Don’t remind me.” He wrapped up his half eaten sandwich with the napkin and placed it in the small white fridge near the water cooler. “I might as well face the music now.”

Will turned and open the door. “Damn bruh, it can’t be that bad.”

“Trust me, it’s worse!” Roger walked out of the room and headed toward the entrance of the garage.

“There you are,” Porsha shouted when she spotted Roger walking toward her. “I knew you would have your trifling friends lie and say you weren’t here,” she pointed her finger in his face when he got closer.

“What do you want Porsha?” he asked calmly, which was in contrast to what he was really feeling – rage. He was so tired of her ghetto fabulous self. The sooner he figured out what she wanted and she left, the better. Work and hanging with his boys were his only peace away from her.

“Why haven’t you paid my car note? They called about the payments being three months late.” She shoved her manicured finger in his chest.

“Keep your voice down. If you haven’t realized we’re at my damn job. For once stop acting all ghetto and sh –”

Porsha cut him off shoving her manicured finger in his chest. “Excuse me I don’t give a fu–”

Roger pulled her by the waist, moving her away from the garage. Away from his coworkers and customers watching their exchange. He pulled her to the side of the building.

“When I was talking all proper you had a problem with it, now I’m too ghetto?” she continued, pulling herself out of his grip.

“I’ll pay the car note when I can. But if you haven’t noticed all my money goes to taking care of the other crap you insist on having. Why don’t you get one of your Johns to pay the damn bill? Better yet have them pay the note off.” He had every reason imaginable to leave her and run like hell. But he knew that was easier said than done. Everything with Porsha was easier said than done. “What happened Porsha, you losing your skills? Can’t get the big bucks out of them like you used to,” he taunted. Before the words left his mouth he knew he was going to pay for them.

Porsha drew back her hand and smacked him across the face, he thought he was seeing stars. If she was a dude he would’ve hit her back. Instead he placed a hand on his stinging face.

“You better find the money to pay my car note, by
any…means…necessary
.” She poked him in the chest between each word to emphasize her point. “Because I swear to you that you won’t want to deal with me if it’s repossessed. You think I’m hell now, let that happen. You will not embarrass me and make these heifers out here think I can’t take care of mine.” She spun and strutted off like she was on a fashion runway.

Roger ran his hand over his close shaved head in frustration as he watched her walk of.
And I thought my life couldn’t get any worse!

Roger pulled his cellphone out of his pocket and punched in a few numbers. He placed it to his ear and waited while it rung. He looked around making sure nobody was in earshot.

“Frank, I see you’re dodging my calls now,” Roger said leaving a message. “It’s been two weeks since I fixed your car, man; and my hand is still empty from the money you haven’t paid yet. If you don’t cough up my two g’s by the end of this week you and me will have some serious problems.” He ended the call and shoved the phone back in his pocket.

**KC**

“Hey Roger,” Will said, entering the small room where Roger was finishing up his sandwich for lunch after his encounter with Porsha ten minutes ago. “You got another visitor. A white dude calling you by your guvment name,” he said in slang.

Roger wondered who it could be.
Are my under the table side jobs catching up with me?
He threw the napkin from his sandwich in the trash after standing to his feet.

“Dawg this dude looked serious. I hope you ain’t in no problems.”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” Roger drawled, walking out of the room.
That psycho had better not have called the cops on me.
He walked to the front of the garage.
I’ll be in some serious mess if my boss finds out I’ve been stealing auto parts for my side gigs.

Roger recognized Pete as soon as he saw him pacing back in forth in front of the garage with his hands shoved in his jeans pockets. He was semi relieved that he wasn’t a cop. Roger had vaguely remembered the drunken scene he created at Pete’s house a few days ago. After he’d sobered up he wondered what the heck he was thinking when he went over there. No way had he wanted to claim Carlisha’s son as his own. And bringing the baby home to Porsha for visits sure as heck wouldn’t go over well. If anything he would create another major war called Operation Porsha!

“How did you find where I work?” Roger stood beside Pete squinting his eyes a bit from the blazing hot sun in his eyes.

“The same way you found out where I lived,” Pete snapped, breaking his silence. “I’m here about you showing up at my house unannounced a few days ago.” Pete was stern, not hiding his displeasure about Roger’s recent presence and behavior at his house.

“Let’s talk over there,” Roger pointed to the side of the building away from eavesdroppers.

After moving away from the garage Pete continued, “Don’t you ever show up at my house unannounced again!” He kept his clenched fists in his pockets reminding himself that the man before him could possibly be Carl’s biological father. He didn’t want to physically hurt Roger – although he sure as heck felt like it for him barging into his home drunk and attacking Debra. But he kept his cool. Besides, Roger looked like he could beat the daylights out of him if he tried to raise a finger at him.

“Look man, it was a mistake. That shi… I mean that won’t happen again.” Roger swallowed humble pie. If being apologetic got Pete away from there quickly then so be it as far as he was concerned. He didn’t want his boss to think he was bringing trouble on the job. Plus he didn’t want to talk any kind of baby mess because the crap he had going on with Porsha and
her
kids was more than enough drama in his life.

Pete was surprised by his apology which made him momentarily lose his train of thought, he was prepared for a verbal battle. He pulled his hands out of his pockets and let them hang at his sides. “Also, if you are in fact Carl’s father, I think we could work out arrangements for you to have visits.” Pete figured if Roger was in fact the father, he wanted to cooperate with him now and not chance losing Carl altogether.
Didn’t the courts give precedence to biological parents?
Despite his legal guardianship, he didn’t think he would be able to handle losing the best thing that had happened to him since marrying his late wife years ago.

Roger stepped back, shocked by Pete’s words.
What the hell did I say when I was over there?
He thought, trying to remember the incident that brought Pete here, to recall if he had mentioned being the father of Carlisha’s son. Although people were speculating, he’d never admitted it to anyone –
or had I?
“Look, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was drunk that day and I must have been saying a whole lot of crap that didn’t make any sense.” He looked around making sure no one was listening on their conversation. He prayed Pete ate the garbage he was feeding him about not being the father. Though he wasn’t one hundred percent sure, he felt Carlisha’s word was pristine to Porsha’s.

Pete studied Roger for a moment, considering the out he was giving him. But should he take it? He didn’t want any more surprise visits from Roger or a government agency representative taking Carl away to be handed over to his biological father.
Could I trust him? He basically threatened me telling me my days of playing daddy was over.
“Look, if you don’t want anything to do with him that’s fine. But would you at least consider doing a paternity test to prove if you are his biological father?” Pete needed to know. Maybe Roger didn’t want anything to do with his son. But if he was plotting behind his back to take Carl away he wanted to be prepared for a fight just in case.

Roger seriously doubted that he wasn’t the father. He knew Carlisha didn’t sleep around and as far as he knew it was only him she slept with while they were together, unlike his wife who had her Johns on speed dial. Plus, it would be good to know that he was actually capable of having a child. Porsha pretty much told him none of their kids were his – which he pretty much knew from the get go, but she just recently admitted it.
God I hate that woman!
He shook his head in disgust at the thought of her.

“Yeah sure,” Roger heard himself say. He rubbed his chin wondering what the heck he agreed to a paternity test for. He sure as heck couldn’t let Porsha find out. But it would be good to prove her wrong – prove that he was capable of fathering a child.

Pete was relieved, at least with finding out the truth he would know what he was up against. “Good, here’s a card of where you can go for the testing.” Pete pulled a business card out of his front pocket and handed it to Roger. “If you go in today or tomorrow we can get the results back in about a day or two.”

“Okay. I’ll probably swing by there later today.” Roger took the card and placed it in the front breast pocket of his overalls.

“Like I said, if you don’t want anything to do with Carl that’s fine. I just want to know if you’re really his father.” Pete owed it to Carlisha and Moriah to do right by Carl and raise him as his own – like he’d been doing so already.

“Yeah, cool.”

Pete turned and walked away praying to God that his time with Carl wouldn’t be short lived.

Do I want a white man raising my son? Am I even fit to be his father?
Roger mused as he watched Pete walk away toward his car.
It sure as heck would be better than having a jezebel as a stepmother.
He moved away from the side of the building and back to work.