Dipping Into Sin 2: Digging Deeper Into Sin (6 page)

Chapter Twelve

Victoria

New
Jersey

           
“How is she today?” I asked Heather, the nurse’s
aide who stayed with Mother during the middle of the night. Ever since the
death of my father, Mother had slipped into a deep state of depression. Her
once glimmering green eyes were now deep, shallow pits of a soulless woman. Her
once smooth milky skin was now covered with dullish gray blotches. She never
slept;
rather
, her eyes remained fixed at one position…the ceiling. The
darkness surrounding her eyes seemed to add another ringlet of purplish-blue
circles each time that I saw her.

            “She’s unresponsive and had another accident. I
cleaned her up, but I think that we should consider putting disposables on her
because—” she began.

“A diaper? Do you really think that’s
necessary?” I asked, cutting her off mid sentence. Feeling a tension headache
forming, my left eye twitched uncontrollably at the prospects Mother needing
assistance for the rest of her life. 

“I know that it’s hard to conceive the
thought. But, I’ve tried everything from teaching her sign language to showing
pictures to communicate her needs. It has all proven to be useless. I’m sorry.”
Heather’s crestfallen brown eyes lowered to the ground, as she too, knew of my
mother’s impending fate.

Walking past my still frame, Heather
beckoned for me to come closer to my mother’s bed. Moving her body
side-to-side, we switched Mother’s position to avoid the bedsores that were
beginning to form.

After leaving Mother’s bedroom, I set out to
search for answers.
Andriano will pay for this
, I vowed as I dug through
my father’s boxes. His office building was now vacant and all of his belongings
were now in his home office. Overwhelmed by the sea of boxes filling up each
corner of his office, I picked the first box that was on his desk labeled
DELICATES. As I pulled out each item, I struggled to hold back the tears that
begged for freedom as a wave of memories washed over me.

            Working my way through the scattered boxes, I
managed to empty six of the twenty boxes within the first two hours before my
phone started vibrating.
Simone,
I thought, as a smile touched my lips,
and I answered, “You were supposed to call me when you got home from your date
three days ago, Missy.”

           
“I didn’t expect to get home so late.”

           
“Oh do tell. Did you have a little
nightcap with Andre?”

           
“Definitely not! Vic, I’m trying to take
it slow.”

           
“Well, it’s been five years. I just
thought that maybe Andre gave you what you’ve been missing.”

           
“Nope, he didn’t. But, I have decided to
go on another date with him next weekend.”

“Hopefully, next weekend you’ll get lucky.
Hold on, I got a text coming

through.”

Feeling my phone vibrating again, I looked
down at the text message. Thomas Bernstein, my father’s lawyer, had sent me a
link.

“Simone, I’m going to call you back. Love
you.”

“Love you too.”         

Clicking on the link, the complete bio and a
picture of this beautiful African-American woman appeared on my phone screen.
The article title read:
The Youngest New York City District Attorney
.

“Reign Johnson,” I read her name out loud.
Skimming through the article, I couldn’t understand why Thomas was eager for me
to learn about this new District Attorney in New York City. Picking up my
phone, I scrolled down my text list and stopped at Thomas.

Victoria:
Why did you send me this
link?

T.B.:
Send her the box that is
labeled 9L9C3N8

Victoria
: ???

T.B
.: Please just do it.

Looking across the room, my eyes skimmed
over the boxes that were within my view. Rising up from chair, I walked over
and stopped in front of the moderate sized box labeled 9L9C3N8. Carrying the
box over to the desk, I grabbed the box cutter and sliced the tape on the box. Pushing
aside the foam balls, I pulled out a large keep safe box. Putting the cardboard
box to the side, I placed the keep safe box in front of me. There was a padlock
that was plastered to the front of the lid. Lifting the box, I attempted to see
if there was somehow a piece of paper attached to the bottom.
Nothing
.
Plugging in my birthday, my parent’s anniversary, my father’s birthday, my
mother’s birthday, and a series of important years in our family; still the box
remained shut.

What the hell is the combination?
Dropping my eyes to the side, I began to think about any important numbers that
my father may have told me before he died.
Nothing
. Resting my eyes on
the box, I leaped quickly out of my chair and dropped down to my knees before
the box. Lifting the lightbox up, I flipped it over with the open-side down.
Emptying the box, I flipped the box over with the hopes that I will be able to
see a hidden piece of paper.
Nothing
. Huffing loudly, I stood up and sat
down in the chair again. Twirling left and right in the chair, my eyes skimmed
over the empty discarded box on the floor to the keep safe box on my late
father’s desk. Stopping, I tilted my head to the side and read the label of the
box again.

“9L9C3N8,” I read out loud. “9-9-3-8,” I
said as I typed the numbers into the keypad.

Click
.

The lid of the box lifted almost immediately
after I was granted access into the box. Lifting the lid, a small black tape
recorder along with four small tapes lay across a thick pile of documents with
the same label, 9L9C3N8.

Picking the tape recorder up, I placed the tape
labeled 6A into the slot. Pressing rewind, the recorder made a clicking sound
before releasing the rewind button.
Time to press play…

Chapter Thirteen

Simone

            “Simone,” Grandma shouted from downstairs. “Can
you come down here?”

            Trekking down the stairs, my eyes widened at the
sight of the men placing bouquets of white roses in the living room. Walking
closer to the door, I stuck my head out to see the three vans parked in the front
of our house. Flagging down one of the men, I asked, “Who sent these roses?”

            His eyes drifted to Grandma’s stance. Leaning
against the wall, Grandma held the medium sized envelope out and said, “This is
for you.”

            “Mommy, look at the pretty flowers,” Olivia
exclaimed excitedly. She kneeled down alongside of Acelia and sniffed the
roses.

            “They smell funny,” Acelia giggled as she rubbed
her nose with the back of her hand.

            “Yeah, they’re pretty to look at,” I mumbled as I
tore through the envelope.
Please let this be a mistake,
I thought, as I
pulled out the letter.

            Bella Mia,
   

           
Five years ago, today, I
remembered calling Victoria non-stop in search of you. I remembered making a
promise that when I found you, I would never let go. It’s funny how, I found
you four months later at the Christmas party. I couldn’t keep my eyes off of
you. But, even more so, I couldn’t contain the rage that I felt as I watched
other men look at you.

Money could buy the most
lavish gifts, but no amount of money or monetary items could compare to the
most precious gift that you gave me that night. If I was not completely driven
by my own selfish, lustful need, my heart would have chosen to make the moment
more mem—

“Mommy, Mommy,” Jasmine came running into
the living room.  Breaking my eyes away from the letter briefly, I looked down
at her dinner smeared all over her mouth.

“Jazzy, go wash your hands and mouth,” I
pointed out as I looked at the letter again.

“But Mommy,” she pleaded. I learned a long
time ago that Jasmine’s persistence had no expiration date.

“Yes, Jazzy?” I answered as my eyes left the
letter to look down at her.

“Mommy, I want my nails painted pink,” she
all but demanded as she held onto the pink nail polish.

“You have to ask first,” I replied. Out all of
my daughters, Jasmine demanded things more than she asked for things.

“Can you paint my nails, please?
Please…Please Mommy,” Jasmine asked as she waved the pink nail polish in midair.

“You need to go wash your hands and mouth
first.”

“Okay, Mommy,” She said softly as she ran to
the bathroom. A few minutes later, she walked into the living room.  

            “Come Jazzy, look at the pretty flowers. Nana,
can we plant them?” Olivia asked as she pulled a long-stemmed white rose out of
the bouquet. Their little voices faded as I became immersed in the words that
rendered my heart speechless while I began reading where I left out...

memorable. But, that night, I
subconsciously made a vow to love you always and forever. I didn’t know then
that I was in love with you. I guess the foreign feeling of love was too much
of a complication that I didn’t need in my life. I must admit, I hated loving
you. Crazy, right? For as long as I could remember, love was never a part of my
life. I was taught that love was weakness, and I refused to be weak. But,
truthfully, I refused to NOT love you.

I was told that these white
roses represent true love, innocence, purity, reverence, remembrance,
worthiness, devotion, and everlasting unity. Most importantly, these white roses
represent a new beginning. This is a new beginning to put YOU first above all,
including my blood. I love you bella mia…now and forever.

                                                                                    A.

“Okay Miss, these are the last of the
bouquets,” said the short, chubby man with the receding hairline. “Sign here,”
he said as his short stubby fingers pointed to a line at the bottom of the
page. Handing me my copy, he started to walk towards the front door.  

“How many did you deliver in total?” Grandma
asked, causing the man to stop the moment his hand reached the screen door.

“2,000 bouquets of long stemmed roses,” he
replied before pushing the screen door open. Turning around, I blinked away the
anger that permeated my eyes and the tightness that entrapped my chest.
Diverting my eyes to Grandma’s still form, I watched as she stared at my
daughters. Dragging my eyes to my giggling daughters, I absorbed their
happiness…their innocence. They’re my serenity, my happiness, my gift of life
from God…and for that, we need to run.

Sighing, Grandma finally asked, “What does
the card say?” her eyes remained fixed on the girls, who were now playing in a
bed of white roses.

Passing the letter to Grandma, my eyes grew
wider at my newfound plan. “Grandma, we need to get the girls out of here,” I
stated matter-of-factly.   

“Where?” Grandma asked as her face scrunched
up in confusion.

“Anywhere, but here. I have enough money
saved up for us to get by until I find work. We can leave as early as tonight,”
I replied anxiously, as I thought about my checking and savings accounts and
the stash of money that I have saved in my closet.   

Standing up, Grandma grabbed an armful of
bouquets before hissing out, “Child please. No man is going to chase me and my
grandbabies out of our own home. Quit that foolish talk and help me move these
bouquets into the patio out back. Girls, help Nana move the flowers to the
backyard.”  

~****~

            After putting the bouquets in the patio out back,
I showered the girls and put them to bed. While lying in bed, I couldn’t help
the daunting thoughts of what would happen if Andriano found out about my
daughters. How would his wife receive them? Would his other children and family
accept them? Each of those questions provided only negative outcomes.

            Rising, I turned to my side and pulled out the
drawer on my nightstand. Pulling out the box and letter that Andriano had given
to me five years ago, I exhaled as my fingers hastened to unravel the box.
Startled, by the sound of the light knock at my door, the box slipped from my
fingers and landed on the floor.
Jumping out of the bed, I quickly opened the door to find Acelia,
who hid half of her face behind her yellow blanket and brown teddy bear, staring
at me.

Kneeling before her tiny body, I drew my
arms open before asking, “Are you okay CeCe?”

“Mommy, can I sleep with you tonight?”
Acelia asked as she wrapped her short, fragile arms around my neck as I lifted
her off of the ground. Walking towards the bed, I laid her little body in the
middle of my mattress. Grabbing the box and letter, I quickly stored them away
in the nightstand. Lying beside her, I flicked the switch to turn off my
bedside lamp. Snuggling her body closer to me, I planted a kiss on Acelia’s
head before closing my eyes.

“Mommy…”

“Hmm?”

“What’s a daddy?”

Swallowing the knot in my throat, my eyes
flashed open wide at Acelia’s question. Stammering for an answer, I finally
settled on, “A daddy is just as special as a mommy. Some kids are lucky to have
both.”

Immediately after answering her question,
tears welled up at the thought of my daughters not being one of the lucky kids.

“Do I have both?” she asked softly. A tear
slid down my cheek the moment she asked.

“No baby,” I managed to say in between soft
sniffles.

Chapter Fourteen

Simone

“Oh, I’m so glad that you’re here,” I
commented as I glanced at Victoria with a gleaming smile. I didn’t think that
she would be up for a visit, especially with her mother’s current state. When
Victoria called last night and told me that she was flying over here, her
tremulous voice sounded uneasy. Even as I glanced over at her, she appeared to
be disheveled with trouble written all over her face.

“Are you okay?” I asked alarmed. “Is Kate okay?”

“Nothing has changed with Mom,” she
responded lowly.

“What’s going on?” I asked concerned by her
somber demeanor. Parking in front of the house, I turned to her and grabbed a
hold of her hand. Bursting into tears, I reached for Victoria and held her.

Taking a moment to gathering herself,
Victoria said, “I have to tell—” Pausing midsentence, she withdrew a tape
recorder from her bag along with three tapes. “No, I need you to listen to
something when we get in the house.”

“I don’t understand Vic. Why do you have a
tape recorder in your bag?” I asked confused by this whole exchange.

Shutting her eyes painfully, Victoria
exhaled an exasperated breath before looking over at me. “I’m sorry. I’m so
very sorry for everything that you had to endure five years ago. Raising the
girls by yourself was a journey.”

“Vic, if it was not for you and Grandma, I
would not have been able to get through the past five years. Both of you were
my biggest support system. Not even my own mother…” stopping myself from going
down the turbulent relationship road between my mother and myself. A small
smile tugged at my lips, “The girls are going to be so excited to see you. I
told them that I had a surprise for them.” Tugging on the door handles, we each
hopped out of my car and walked towards the trunk. Popping the hood, I felt my
phone vibrating. Looking down at my phone, I saw that it was a missed call from
home.

Walking up the stairs, I unlocked both of
the doors and shouted, “Girls guess who’s here.”

The zealous excitement washed away the
moment I heard uncontrollable whaling. Dropping the bags on the floor, everything
seemed to go through a time-lapse as I ran as quickly as my feet could take me.
Every terrifying emotion went through me as their cries became louder. Entering
the kitchen, I looked at each of my daughters who shuffled to their feet the
moment that I walked in. Dropping to my knees, I looked over at Grandma’s body.
She was lying face down by the kitchen table. Scurrying, I crawled over to her
and gently turned her body over.

“Victoria, call 911 now!”

“Mommy why are Nana’s eyes closed?” asked
Acelia as her tiny hand went to my shoulder.

“Acelia, Jasmine, and Olivia go to the
living room and sit on the couch,” I ordered.

“I can help, Mommy,” Jasmine proclaimed.

“Jazzy, please just do as I asked,” I
responded as I checked my Grandmother’s pulse. Looking down at my watch, I
monitored her heartbeats.

“But Mommy,” Jasmine pleaded.

“Now is not the time Jasmine. Just please
listen to me,” I asserted as my head snapped away from Grandma’s body to look
at her face. With quivering lips and shimmering eyes, she nodded her compliance
before running out of the kitchen. Acelia and Olivia held each other’s hands as
they followed her.

“Grandma, you’re going to be fine. I promise.
You can’t leave me. You can’t leave the girls. We all need you,” I whispered
close to her ear while I monitored her pulse. She seemed peaceful, as her face
remained unresponsive. If only she could flicker her eyes or move her hand.
Give
me a sign that she could hear me.

“Victoria did you call?” I asked struck by
panic as I thought about how long Grandma was lying in that position. Though I
was gone for 30 minutes, each lingering minute that passed by was crucial.  

“The ambulance is on the way. I left the
front door open,” she replied as she kneeled beside me.

A few minutes passed, and the faint sounds
of the sirens became louder as it neared our house. Opening the wispy screen
door, the bustling sounds of urgent footsteps walked inside our house.

“Hello, we’re the paramedics,” the medic
announced.

“In here. We’re in the kitchen!” I hollered.
Standing to her feet, Victoria walked out of the kitchen and returned a few
second later with the two paramedics.

“Ma’am, can you please step away from her?”

Complying, I stood up and leaned against the
refrigerator as I watched the paramedics examine Grandma. Railed by the scene,
the nurse in me seemed to be buried under the fear of losing my grandmother. Through
all of my trainings and studies, none of it prepared me for
this,
as I was
rendered helpless.

“How long has she been in this position?” questioned
one of the paramedics as he opened his bag and pulled out a few items.

Unable to utter a sound, I looked on in
horror as the medic placed an oxygen mask over her face. Cutting her eyes in my
direction after a moment of silence, Victoria spoke up and answered. “We walked
into the house ten minutes ago and found her lying face down.” 

“We have to take her to the hospital,” announced
the paramedic as he placed items back into the medic bag. Unfolding the
stretcher, both medics proceeded to lift Grandma onto the gurney. As they
rolled the stretcher out of the kitchen, everything became still.
Today
couldn’t be the day that I lose my grandmother.

“Can you watch the girls? I’m going to
follow the ambulance to the hospital.”

The paramedics took Grandma to the hospital where
I worked. Parking in the lot, I rushed over to the emergency room. Brushing
past all of my co-workers, I headed to the Geriatrics Department as this is the
department that focuses on a wide range of problems associated with the
elderly. If Grandma had a stroke, then she would surely be brought here first.

After two hours of waiting in the visitors
lounge, I walked over to the information desk and asked if there was any
progress with May-lee Bradshaw.

“Simone, from what I can gather, she’s still
undergoing tests. Dr. Logan will be with you shortly,” Mary, the head nurse in
that department, responded apologetically. “Do you want me to get you some tea
or maybe water?”

“No, I’m fine. Thank you, Mary.”

            At that moment, my phone began to ring. Looking
down at the screen, I cursed silently. This was the third time that Andre
called. Sliding the screen up, I cleared my throat before saying, “Hello.”

            Andre returned, “Hey beautiful. How is your day
going so far?”

            “Honestly, I’m not doing so well right about
now.”

            “What happened?”

            “My grandmother was admitted a few hours ago. She
had a stroke.

With a voice full of sympathy, Andre
replied, “Simone, I’m sorry to hear. Do you need me to do anything? Do you want
me to come to the hospital?”

“No, no, I’m fine. These next few weeks are
going to be really hectic. So, I’m

going to have to cancel our date to the comedy show this Friday.”

“
I understand, Simone. Please let me
know if I can do anything.”

            “I will. I’ll talk to you later.”

           
“
Okay, take it easy.”

            I ended the call with a sigh.

“Hello, Ms. Sinn. How are you?” asked Dr.
Logan. Startled, I turned around and faced Dr. Logan, who stood a few inches away
from me.

“I’m hanging in there. What is the status of
my grandmother?” I asked frantically.

“We’ve conducted some preliminary tests to
see if we could determine the cause for this stroke. Simone you may need to…”
Shifting his eyes away from mine, Dr. Logan began to stammer on his words.

“Just say it,” I shouted. “Just say it,
please,” I whispered as tears began to slide down my cheeks. Hugging my waist,
I braced myself for the underlying news that was sure to come.

“She suffered from an eruption of a brain
aneurysm. The bleeding in her brain caused a hemorrhagic stroke. This type of
hemorrhagic stroke is called—” he began.

“Subarachnoid Hemorrhage,” I finished his
sentence. 

“Correct. With Ms. Bradshaw’s age and
preexisting health issues, there is a greater chance that she will not break
out of her coma. I recommend performing an aneurysm clipping to block off the
aneurysm from the blood vessels in the brain. This surgery will help to prevent
further leaking of blood from the aneurysm and decreasing the chances of
rupturing again. Will you consent to this procedure?”

            “Yes, Dr. Logan. Please provide every treatment,”
I practically begged.

            “We will prep her for surgery,” he replied before
walking away.

Chapter Fifteen

Simone

            “Mommy! Mommy!” screamed Acelia. Wrapping her
short arms around my legs, she pressed her tiny face against my thighs.

            “Hey CeCe, how are you?” I asked as I walked into
the house later that evening. When I left the hospital, Grandma was in the
recovery unit after undergoing surgery. I asked Dr. Logan what the likelihood was
of her regaining consciousness after the surgery. Instead of reassuring words
of a successful procedure, he told me to consider preparing for the necessary
arrangements. Apparently, with the lack of blood flow to major parts of her
brain stem, Grandma’s brain became swollen. Left with little to no hope, I did
what she taught me to do…turn to God. During the short drive home, tears
streamed down my cheeks as I begged God to place His miraculous hands on
Grandma.

            Walking down the stairs, Victoria had a yellow
towel tossed over her shoulder. Her hair was now in a messy ponytail with
strands shadowing her neck. We looked at each other, communicating through weepy
eyes, as we understood each other’s pain.

Wiping the single tear that slid down my
cheek, before Acelia could see me, I tried to tap into the inner strength that
Grandma always said that I had. But, all I could find was pain. My heart ached
at the flashback of my daughters on their little knees, hovering over Grandma
as they tried their earnest to do everything that I had taught them.

Their cries haunted my ears each moment the
flashback appeared. They knew to call my phone first if there was ever an
emergency and I was not around. We rehearsed the steps to follow and in that urgent
moment, they remembered. How will I be able to explain Grandma’s condition?
Would they need counseling? Heaving in and out, I attempted to steady my
breathing to avoid alarming anyone.

            “Hey, CeCe, why don’t you go put your toys away
while your Mommy and I talk.”

            “Okay, Auntie Vicky,” Acelia complied before
releasing my thighs and walking up the stairs. Stopping midway, Acelia looked
over her shoulder and asked, “Where is Nana?”

            Tears stung as I strained to hold them back.
Looking to the side, I lied to her, “Grandma will be back soon.” Satisfied with
the answer, Acelia continued to walk up the stairs.

Moving towards me, Victoria wrapped her arms
around my shoulders, drawing me into a warm hug. Burying my head into her
shoulder, I poured out my emotions through tears.

            Stroking my hair, Victoria said, “Everything is
going to be all right. I’ll stay out here for as long as you need me.”

            Nodding my head, I backed away from Victoria and
placed my car keys in the dish bowl on the console table. Walking into the
kitchen, my feet remained rooted in place, as my eyes became glued on the spot
in the kitchen where Grandma had fallen. Panting in and out, the amount of
airflow seemed to seep out as I clenched onto my chest with great intensity.

            “I have to call my mother.”

~****~

            “I’m surprised that Henry let you fly down here,”
I blurted out the moment my mother, Kendra Jones, entered the car. Last week,
after telling my mother about Grandma’s condition, she surprised me when she emailed
me her flight itinerary. The last time that I saw my mother was over five years
ago. I was on my way to college and never thought to cherish that moment.
Although we spoke briefly throughout the week, she still allowed Henry to
control her life. Even more disappointing, was the fact that my mother never
met my daughters aside from the pictures that I mailed to her during the
holidays. I woke up this morning with every intention to keep my emotions in check,
at least
, for the sake of my grandmother.  

            “Now is not the time Simone,” she replied as we
exited the airport parking lot.

As we neared the house, I glanced over at my
mother before focusing on the road again, “What should my daughters call you?”

“What do they call Mama?” she asked softly
after a few minutes passed.

A smile tugged at my lips as I thought of
the first time that Grandma taught the girls to pronounce ‘Nana’. Parking in
front of the house, I turned and looked at my mother before answering, “The
girls call Grandma, Nana.”

Walking into the house, I braced myself for
the confused little faces that were sure to come the moment I introduced my
mother to my daughters.

            “Girls, I have someone here that I would like for
you to meet,” I called out to the girls. Jasmine, Olivia, and Acelia came
running out of the kitchen with Victoria trailing behind them. A small gasp
escaped my mother lips the moment the girls appeared.

            “Mommy, Mommy, Mommy, Mommy,” they all shouted in
discord tones. Running past my mother, the girls wrapped their arms around my
thighs and stared up at me with cheerful grins. The longer I stared at each of
them, the more heavy-hearted I became as I pondered the reasons why Andriano
would want me to terminate my pregnancy. Plundered by sadness, I couldn’t even
understand how my mother waited until now to meet her granddaughters. They say
that babies bring happiness to families, but somehow the only people who
embraced this happiness were Grandma and me. During our weekly phone calls, my
mother barely asked about the girls. And it hurt. I guess,
deep down
, I
wished that my mother acknowledged my daughters…acknowledged the effort that I
made to raise my daughters as a single parent.