Read Fifteen Years Online

Authors: Kendra Norman-Bellamy

Fifteen Years (30 page)

BOOK: Fifteen Years
6.64Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

“HOW LONG have you been awake?”

Joanne’s voice didn’t exactly startle Thomas. She had a tendency to drag her feet when she walked, especially early in the mornings. He had heard her approaching from the other side of the partially screened glass door that covered their main front door entrance. At first light, during the spring and summer months, especially, Thomas often opened the main door to allow the fresh air to flow before the heat set in and they would be forced to turn on the air conditioner.

When Joanne pushed the screen door open, Blaze shot past her and barreled down the stairs. In no time, he’d disappeared somewhere in the thick of the hedges. He always went to the same spot to take care of business. It was as though he wanted his privacy just like humans did.

Thomas looked at the watch on his wrist. It was just past seven
o’clock. “Technically I’ve been up for three hours,” he answered, looking at the two steaming cups in her hands. “I prayed and read a few Scripture passages. Didn’t get out of the bed for good until five o’clock though. You were still sleeping pretty. I started to wake you up, but you looked too peaceful.” Thomas capped his remark with a grin.

“Thanks for not waking me.” Joanne handed him one of the cups of coffee. Black. No cream, no sugar. “You used to brag that one of the perks of being retired was that you no longer had to get up at such ungodly hours.”

“Had a lot on my mind.” He sipped the dark liquid and scowled. It tasted horrible. It was too hot, too strong, and too bitter. Just the way he liked his first cup of the day. “This is perfect, honey. Thanks.” He inhaled. Coffee smelled way better than it tasted, but for some reason, he couldn’t get through a full morning without it. The aroma of the java overshadowed the scent of their freshly cut grass. The lawn service workers had packed up and left shortly before Joanne joined Thomas on the porch.

“Still thinking about what Patrice told you?” she asked as if she didn’t know.

Thomas nodded. “Plus I had to make an early phone call.”

“Who’d you have to call at that time of morning?” The last word of her question was nearly buried in the long yawn that she released.

“Didn’t mean to keep you awake half the night talking about the kids.” Thomas looked remorseful.

Joanne didn’t seem to notice that he’d avoided answering her question. “If you want to apologize, apologize for waiting so long to tell me.” She gathered the flowing skirt of her pink, satin robe and sat in one of the chairs on their porch.

“It wasn’t a long time. I told you within twenty-four hours.”

Joanne harrumphed. “You should have told me within twenty-four minutes.” She sipped from her own cup, swallowed, and then said, “Twenty-four seconds would have been even better.”

Thomas walked to her and kissed the top of the black, silk scarf that still covered the sponge rollers that she’d slept in. “If you feel slighted by my hesitation, then I apologize. I would get on my knees and beg your forgiveness, but this old man might not be able to get backup.”

Laughing, Joanne pushed him away. “Hush that foolishness. If you’re an old man that would make me an old lady, and nothing can be further from the truth. Besides, there ain’t one thing wrong with your bones or your back.” She winked at him. “And I still have memories from Monday night to prove it.”

Thomas felt his neck turn hot. He couldn’t believe his wife had said that out loud. There was a time in their marriage when she would have categorized her own words as racy and unladylike. Recent years had changed her; made her bolder and more spontaneous. He liked the new Joanne.

Thomas grabbed his denim slacks at the knees and hiked them up a little as he sat in a chair not far from hers. “I was slow about telling you because I didn’t know how you would take it.”

She tilted her head and gave him a sideways look. “Why? Did you think I wouldn’t take it well just because
you
didn’t know how to take it?”

It was true. At first, he didn’t. Thomas wasn’t going to deny his initial reaction. “I’m telling you, Joanne, my insides cringed a little bit when Patrice first told me. I felt like … Ugh!” He stuck out his tongue and made his body shutter when he made the noise.

“How soon we forget,” Joanne said.

“How soon, how soon,” Thomas echoed. He crossed his right leg over his left knee. “We’ve been together so long that sometimes
I really do forget where we got our start.”

“There’s no difference in what she’s feeling for JT than what I felt for you.”

Thomas nodded. “I know.”

“And if anybody’s relationship deserved an ‘ugh’ it would be ours, not theirs,” Joanne pointed out. “At least JT and Patrice were grown and out of the house before they started feeling differently about each other. Fifteen years passed without them ever seeing each other. The two of them had changed a lot—both physically and spiritually—in that time frame. They’d lived life, matured, and grown up over the years.”

Thomas stared out into his freshly manicured property where Blaze was now running around in circles, trying to catch his tail. Thomas knew his wife wasn’t finished making her point, so he didn’t try to interrupt.

“What they are doing is a whole lot different than a sixteen- and seventeen-year-old still living under the same roof, calling the same folks ‘Mama’ and ‘Daddy,’ all while making goo-goo eyes at each other every chance they got.” Joanne snickered at the memories.

Thomas remembered those long gone days like they’d been just weeks ago. “Yeah, you had it pretty bad for me.”

Joanne smacked her lips. “If memory serves me correctly, you were the one who wrote the first love note.”

“If memory serves
me
correctly, I wrote that letter only after giving in to nearly two years of your little pitiful
‘I love you. Do you love me, yes or no’
looks.”

Joanne laughed at him. “What? The only thing your memory is serving you is a healthy dose of wishful thinking. You’re making stuff up, Tom.”

Thomas laughed too. “That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.”

Joanne swatted at him, but their chairs weren’t close enough
for her to make contact. “The point I was trying to make is that there’s nothing grotesque about JT and Patrice. If it was good for us, it’s good for them. We’re still going strong. Forty years from now, with God’s help, they’ll be doing the same.”

Sitting back in his chair, Thomas let out a long breath.

“What is it?” Joanne rose from her chair and walked toward her husband. She came to a stop and stood beside him, placing her hands on his shoulders. “I know that sigh. Something’s bothering you. What’s the matter?”

Thomas loved the way his wife knew him. “I’m not worried so much about JT and Patrice getting together as a couple. The little concern I had about that was totally put to rest when you and I talked last night. The more I think about it, the more I like the idea. I’ve always prayed that God would send my children life mates that had similar upbringings as theirs. Although JT went through what he went through with his mother, he still had a firm foundation that we gave him when he lived here. The kids had identical upbringings inside the walls of our house. That makes for a perfect match in my book.”

“But?” Joanne pressed for more.

Thomas hesitated for a long while, but eventually he said, “I think it’s time to tell him.”

“Tell him what?” As soon as the question left Joanne’s mouth, she gasped, and one hand left Thomas’s shoulder and fluttered to her chest. “You mean tell JT about—?”

“Yes.” Thomas nodded. “He’s a grown man, honey. I’m surprised he hadn’t found out on his own. I would’ve thought for sure that when her guard was down on one of her drunk or high days, Reeva Mae would have been the spoiler.”

“I’m glad she didn’t do it,” Joanne said. “That wouldn’t have been the way for him to find out.”

“That’s why I need to tell him. God is giving me the chance to be the one to fill him in on the details, which is something I really should have done a long time ago. I felt convicted when we lied to him last Sunday at dinner.”

“We didn’t lie,” Joanne defended. “His leaving did crush us, and it was the primary reason that we adopted Sam. And it was totally true that JT wasn’t up for adoption. We didn’t lie.”

Thomas readjusted his seating, uncrossing his legs and planting both his feet firmly on the porch. “You’re right; it wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either, and you know that.”

Joanne looked concerned as she shuffled back to her own chair. “Are you sure about this, Thomas? You vowed years ago that you’d never tell him, and you’ve kept this from him for thirty years. Him hearing it now might not go over too well.”

“I know.” Thomas pinched his nose and squeezed his eyes closed. He looked like he was trying to block the oncoming of a massive sneeze, but in reality, he was trying to shut out the haunting images of Josiah becoming outraged when he found out the secret that had been withheld from him for all of his life.

“Why the sudden change?” Joanne’s voice helped to deliver him from his thoughts.

“It’s not sudden. Not really. I just hadn’t voiced it before now.” Thomas leaned forward with his elbows resting on his knees. He noted the way Joanne cocked her head. She didn’t like it when he kept things from her, and Thomas knew it. “It’s only been since JT arrived that I’ve been thinking about this.” He hoped saying that would lessen his wife’s displeasure. “When he told us that Reeva had been killed, it hit home for me. The boy never should have gone through that by himself. He was only eighteen, and after Reeva died, he had nobody. If he hadn’t had that full scholarship, I shiver to think what would have become of him.”

Thomas shook his head like his brain was an Etch-A-Sketch, and he didn’t like the picture that had been drawn on it. “Thank God for His favor, because JT probably wouldn’t have been able to keep a decent roof over his head if it weren’t for the college dorm. He would have had nowhere to go.”

“We wouldn’t have let that happen,” Joanne quickly put in.

Thomas looked her in the eyes. “Don’t you see? We wouldn’t have known.” He was shaking his head again. “How could we have helped if we didn’t know? We asked his caseworker to keep us informed on his progress, and every time we called that old ugly, big head woman to check on him, what would she always say?”

“That he was doing well,” Joanne answered.

“She lied to us.” Thomas had already resorted to name-calling, and now his arms were flailing around like a drowning victim. He was mad. “I’ll bet you anything that she didn’t know how JT was getting along, and she probably couldn’t have cared less. He had moved to a whole new state and probably wasn’t even her concern anymore. She just said whatever it took to pacify us. Patronizing us … that’s what she was doing, and we fell for it hook, line and sinker. What if there was no college scholarship, Joanne? That boy would have been turned out on the streets if he couldn’t make ends meet.”

“But he wasn’t.” Joanne was back on her feet and standing beside Thomas again. She used her fingers to massage his shoulders. “Let’s look on the bright side. Yes, he could have been on the streets, but God was merciful. He didn’t let that happen. Maybe we weren’t there for JT, but our prayers were. We never missed a day of praying for him, and God honored those prayers. JT turned out better than most boys who have stable parents in the home.”

“Thank God for that.” Thomas relaxed a bit under the kneading of his wife’s fingers. “I still want to tell him,” he said, rotating
his neck to reap the full benefits of her rubdown. “It’s dangerous for a person not to know their history. When Patrice told me about what happened between the two of them in the park, a part of what shook me most was the fact that we almost adopted her. Remember that?” Thomas didn’t give Joanne time to respond. “We talked extensively about adopting Patrice when she was twelve or so, but when we prayed about it, we never got a release. As much as we loved her, God never gave us the okay.” A level of terror filled his eyes as he looked up at Joanne. “If we had adopted her, and then she and JT fell in love …” Again he shook his head.

“I know.” Joanne sounded like she fully understood the urgency now. Her amateur massage ended when she walked around and knelt in front of him. “When do you plan to tell him? We could invite him over for dinner and tell him then.”

Thomas looked beyond her, toward the entrance of their driveway. “No,” he said. “I want to tell him now.”

The humming of an approaching vehicle made Joanne turn and look too. Blaze appeared out of nowhere and began yelping and jumping up and down as the Audi was navigated into their yard. He recognized the car and was apparently happy to see it. Joanne snapped her face back toward her husband.

“Yes.” Thomas answered the question that her eyes asked. “That’s the important call that I made early this morning. I called JT and asked him to come by. In my prayer time, the Lord let me know that it was time to tell him.”

Joanne looked panicky as she stood along with Thomas. She pulled the belt that tightened her robe around her. “I, uh… I guess I can whip up a quick breakfast so we can all sit at the kitchen table and—”

“No,” Thomas said as he watched Josiah climb from his parked car and stoop to give Blaze the attention he was craving. “Thanks
for your willingness, but that’s not the way I want to do it. This is between us.” He pointed at himself and then toward Josiah. “I’ll take JT in my office, and we’ll pray together, and then talk man to man. You can make breakfast, but we won’t eat before or while we talk. I don’t want any distractions. We’ll eat after we talk.”

Joanna nodded her head and wrung her hands.

Thomas hugged her waist to try and ease her obvious anxiety Outwardly he looked calm and confident. Inwardly he could only hope that Josiah would still want to stick around and eat breakfast after what he had to tell him.

BOOK: Fifteen Years
6.64Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Needles and Pearls by Gil McNeil
It's Just Lola by Dixiane Hallaj
Forever Fall by Elizabeth Sinclair
The Golden Slave by Poul Anderson
Loving Miss Libby by Naramore, Rosemarie
The Missing Ink by Olson, Karen E.