Forever An Ex (20 page)

“Well, I never recommend that,” Pastor said. “You two really need to talk.”

“I know, but . . . what can I do?” I looked down at my hands as I folded and then unfolded them. This was the question that had brought me to the pastor's office.

“Sheridan.”

I looked up. I hadn't even noticed that my pastor had stepped away, that she'd walked to the door. That's where she stood, at the opened door. And right next to her was my husband, standing with his hands stuffed into his pockets.

It was a reflex—I sprang from the sofa, ran to him, and wrapped my arms around his neck. And when Brock held me back, more sobs came from that space that I thought was empty.

“I'm so sorry,” I cried. “Really, really sorry.”

Brock pulled back just a little, and with the back of his hands, he wiped my tears away. “Well, what you did is not the unforgivable sin,” he said softly. Then his voice stiffened just a bit. “But I called Pastor because I think we need some help.”

“You called her?” Then, for the first time in minutes, I turned, remembering that Pastor Ford was someplace in this room.

She was standing behind us.

I said to her, “I thought you said Christopher called you.”

“I said Christopher called me first.” She chuckled and added, “Everyone was calling to tell on you. Even your mom called from San Francisco.”

I moaned. I hadn't said a word to my mother, even though I'd spoken to her yesterday. Now I guessed I was going to hear her mouth, too, but you know what? I was so happy. Because my husband was standing next to me, and with him by my side, I could handle anything that came my way.

“I asked Brock if he could come here today so that I could talk to the two of you. He said that you needed help and I agree.”

“Okay,” I said.

Pastor said, “You know, I marry a lot of couples, but when the two of you stood in front of me, I knew, just knew, that not only was your marriage right, but that so much good was going to come out of your union.” She looked straight at me when she said, “But in order to get your marriage pumping the way it's supposed to, you have to get rid of the blockage.” She turned around, strolled behind her desk, and then faced us. “So let's talk.” She pointed to the chairs in front of her desk and Brock and I moved toward them.

But the whole time, I never let go of my husband's hand. And if it were at all possible, my plan was to never, ever let him go again.

Chapter

Twenty-Seven

F
or the second day in a row, I received the telephone call that I really needed.

Just like yesterday, I picked up my phone—this time to call Kendall. But before I could do it, she'd called me.

“I need to see you,” she'd said.

“I was just gonna call you. Is everything okay with your dad?”

“He's fine.”

“Good; then I need to talk to you, too.”

“Perfect,” she'd said.

“Okay. Where do you want to meet? Do you want me to come to the Woman's Place?” I asked, figuring that it would be easier if I just met her at work.

“No.” Then she'd given me an address in Malibu.

“What is this?” I'd asked her. “A new restaurant?”

“Just meet me there. How long will it take you?”

“Give me a couple of hours.”

“I'll give you three. About eleven?”

I agreed and then I'd hung up. There was no need for me to give Kendall's call another thought. For the next couple of hours, I went to work, which was something that I hadn't done for days. But with Brock and me back on our right track, now I could focus. I answered e-mails, returned calls, and actually checked off a few items on my to-do list before I made my way to the address that Kendall had given to me.

All during the ride over, my thoughts were on me and Brock and the talk we'd had with Pastor. I thought about how Pastor once again reiterated that I had to let go of Quentin's sin.

“It doesn't belong to you,” she'd said. And once again she added, “Sheridan, you've got to stop thinking that you're the world's savior. Jesus is fine doing that all by Himself.”

Then her harshest words came when she said, “You're not the first woman in the world whose husband left her for a man, so stop acting that way.”

I have to admit, my feelings were hurt, but I was also smart enough to know that my pastor was right. Why was I so concerned about Quentin and Harmony? I had lots of excuses, but I promised God, Pastor, Brock, and myself yesterday that I was going to work to let it go. My goal: stay out of everybody's business and just handle mine.

“Just don't say that, Sheridan,” Pastor warned me. “Understand that there's something going on with you and you're going to have to take it to the altar and leave it there”—she'd paused then and looked at Brock—“if you want to save your marriage.”

I was hurt, but I was smart. That's all Pastor had to say. I was putting my marriage at risk? Well then, this was going to stop.

My thoughts came back to the present when the automated voice of my GPS stated, “In a quarter of a mile turn left onto Private Road.”

Private Road? Now I paid attention to the multimillion-dollar beach homes on my left that were the jewels of Los Angeles. And when the GPS led me to the left, I followed the directions, but then was pissed when I saw the sign
NO OUTLET
.

Where was this dangbangit thing taking me?

The road was too narrow to make a U-turn; I was going to have to go to the end then turn around.

But at the end of the road was a little cottage . . . with the address that Kendall had given me. And then I saw Kendall's Porsche and then . . . there was Kendall.

Now I stood in the middle of the living room, doing a 360-degree slow turn, taking it all in, and hardly believing any of what I was seeing.

“So,” I said as I stopped spinning and walked toward the windowed wall with the precious view of the Pacific. This was magnificent; truly, I could stretch out my hand across the private beach and touch an ocean's wave. “Explain this to me again.”

Behind me, Kendall said, “This is my new place.”

“You already said that part,” I said, “when you opened the door. But how am I, one of your best friends—”

“Correction”—she interrupted me—“my only best friend.”

“Okay, how is it that your only best friend does not know that (a) you were thinking about buying a house in Malibu and (b) that you already purchased a house in Malibu and (c) that you had already moved into said house in Malibu?”

Her grin filled half her face as she stepped over to stand next to me. “You know that I've always wanted to live in Malibu again. I've always wanted to come back to the beach.” She turned and faced the ocean. “This has been my dream,” she said softly.

As she stood taking in her dream, I knew in that same moment Kendall was reliving a part of her nightmare. A nightmare in which Kendall had given her first Malibu dream home to her ex in their divorce . . . her ex and his new wife, who just happened to be Kendall's sister.

As Kendall's shoulders rose and stiffened, I was sad that those memories stole any part of the joy that she had now. But then, just as quickly, the moment was gone. When she turned back to me, her cheekbones were high once again with her grin and her eyes were bright. “So, the opportunity presented itself for me to get this place, and I just took it.”

“Opportunity? How? When? Who? What? And the most important question, how did you do all of this without me finding out?”

“One answer to all of those questions; I've got a good Realtor.”

“Well, you're going to have to introduce me to her.”

“Him,” Kendall corrected me. “I have the same Realtor who helped me and Anthony get the first house.” She paused a moment. “His brother.” Then she walked away.

Nuh-uh. She was not going to just say that and leave it there. I followed behind her to the other side of the room and plopped down on the overstuffed sofa right next to her.

“Anthony's brother? Really?”

“Yup.” And then that was it. But Kendall didn't have to say anything else. The grin on her face said so much.

I said, “Okay, you need to fess up, Fester. What's going on?”

She paused, looked down at her hands as if she needed a couple of seconds to think. When her glance returned to me, she said, “Give me some time, and then I'll tell you the whole story.”

I shook my head. “Keeping secrets from your best friend.” But I said that with a smile because I knew Kendall. She was a little bit different when it came to friendship. Most women ran to their best friends with their deepest secrets. But not Kendall. What had gone down between her ex and her sister had really changed her. I didn't know her back then, but what wife wouldn't be traumatized after finding her husband in bed with her sister?

I was absolutely sure that experience had turned Kendall into the woman she was today. Though she counted me as her best friend, she was a loner. She didn't share much with many; she handled her life, herself, on her own terms.

And I'd always thought that was a very lonely existence.

But maybe a shift was happening. Because for the first time since I'd known her, the burden of bitterness that hung over her like a pall, though it was still there, seemed to be lifting. I didn't know what was going on, but I knew Kendall would tell me. Eventually.

“Oh,” Kendall said, “there's one other thing that I have to tell you.”

It looked like eventually was going to get here sooner than I thought. I sat back and waited for the news.

She said, “Sabrina had the baby last week. My sister and my ex are now parents.”

Kendall had told me and Asia that she found out her sister was pregnant at Christmas. “Oh,” I said. My tone was a mix of gaiety and sorrow. I was so happy because anytime God blessed someone with a baby, I knew those parents were experiencing nothing but joy. But on the other hand, I knew this had to be a bitter moment for Kendall. “Are you okay?”

She shrugged. “Why wouldn't I be? I knew Sabrina was pregnant. The baby had to come out sometime.”

I had lots of questions. Like did Anthony and Sabrina have a boy or a girl? And what was the baby's name? But I didn't ask Kendall any of those things. If she knew, she'd tell me . . . when she got ready. And if she didn't want me to know . . . well, at least she'd acknowledged that they had a child. That was a start, right?

“Your dad must be thrilled,” I said.

“Yeah.” She nodded. “This is a good time for him in the middle of all that he's going through.”

I wanted to ask her what the doctors were saying about her father. I wanted to know how his treatments were going. But like I said, anything Kendall wanted me to know, she'd tell me.

“Now you know why I wanted you to come over,” Kendall said as she leaned back on the sofa. “So, what did you want to talk to me about?”

With this house, and the news of the baby, I'd almost forgotten. “Yes! Oh, my goodness. So much has been going on. First, Christopher canceled his wedding.”

She sat straight up. “What? Did they—”

I didn't even let her finish. “They didn't break up. Christopher and Evon are still together. They just decided to elope, though it's a different kind of elopement since we all know when and where they're going.”

Kendall squinted. “What?”

“Yeah. My son doesn't want the wedding anymore because he doesn't think Quentin and I can be in the same room at the same time. He doesn't think his father will be able to keep his hands off my throat.”

“Did Quentin threaten you?” Kendall asked like she wanted me to know that she had my back and was ready to rumble.

“No, he didn't. I need to take you back to the beginning. And I need to tell you right now, up front, that I didn't listen to you,” I said, then paused. “I told Harmony about Quentin and Jett.”

Kendall moaned as she kicked off her shoes and tucked her feet underneath her butt. “Okay.” She motioned with her hands. “Tell me everything.”

And that's what I did. I told Kendall the whole story. When I got to the part about meeting with Harmony, she shook her head. When I told her about Quentin coming over to my house, she widened her eyes. And when I relived the part about me and Brock arguing, she breathed, “Humph, humph, humph. Talk about keeping stuff from your best friend.”

“Yeah, well. At least Brock and I have worked it out,” I told her. “Yesterday Pastor Ford got me and him together in sort of a counseling session.”

“You're doing counseling with Pastor?”

“No sessions. Just yesterday. But it was a good talk. You know Pastor, she gave it to me straight. Brock told me that he was tired of Quentin being at the center of our lives and Pastor told me that I needed to fix that if I wanted to keep my marriage.”

“Whoa, it's like that?” she asked. “It'd gotten that deep?”

I nodded. “I didn't mean it to. I was just trying to help. And anyway,” I said, holding up my finger like I wanted to scold somebody, “Quentin wouldn't be anywhere near us if everybody hadn't forced me to invite him for Christmas.” I sighed. “But the good thing is that we're talking and I understand where Brock is coming from. And as much as I love Brock, I don't want him to ever think that I have any feelings for Quentin.”

“Well, I can call Brock and tell him that,” Kendall said. “Feelings, you don't have. But curiosity? I think that's why you can't leave this alone. You're trying to figure out this whole gay thing.”

“That's it!” I said. “You get me. That's all I'm doing.”

“I do get you, but you need to get over it. Because you're never going to figure it out. Hell, Quentin hasn't figured it out. He's with you, he's with Jett, he's with other men for all these years, and now he's engaged to Harmony. If he can't get it together, how're you gonna figure it out?”

I paused. “That's a good point.”

“And, how are you gonna help him to get it together?” Before I could answer, Kendall continued. “You can't do it, Sheridan. I know it's not easy to do, but you have to just give it up and move on.”

I dipped my head a little. “Listen to you, Miss Give It Up And Move On. Is that what you're doing? Is that what this is about?” I swept my hands through the air and once again looked around this living room.

“This is not about me,” she said, and slapped my hands down. “This is about you still trying to be all up in Quentin's life. And it was kinda foul what you did to him and Harmony. I told you to leave it alone.”

I shook my head. “You have no idea how much I wish I could make that up to Quentin. And Harmony. Because, I'm telling you, all I was doing was listening to my gut. I'm telling you, Kendall, I truly thought Quentin was playin' Harmony. When I saw him with Jett . . .” The image of the two of them together once again came to my mind. “It was intuition, and we're always told to go with our intuition.”

“Yeah, when it's your life, but don't take your intuition into other people's lives. Let them use their own.”

I nodded. “What makes me sad is that this is gonna all work out for me; Brock and I are fine. And even though we're not going to have the wedding that I always wished for, in a little over a week, Christopher and Evon will be married.” I sighed. “The only people who are messed up are Quentin and Harmony—because of me. I really wish there was something I could do about that.”

“Haven't you learned your lesson?”

“I have, but I just wish I could talk to Harmony. Take back what I said and tell her that I was wrong. She never even gave Quentin a chance to explain. She did some ol' technology breakup. He didn't stand a chance. But she might listen to me since I was the one to mess this whole thing up.”

“I don't know . . .” Kendall said.

“I was just thinking that since I was the one who told her no, she might listen if I told her yes.”

Now Kendall nodded, like she understood what I was saying. “Well, maybe you
should
call her.”

“Her number's not in service and Quentin said that he's not even sure she's still in Los Angeles.”

“Wow, she's not working at the hospital anymore?”