Forgive Me (28 page)

“When are you due again?”

“Christmas Eve,” said Stephanie. She couldn't mask the throbbing pain in her lower abdomen. “Onnie, please help me to the bathroom.”

She led Stephanie to the guest bathroom. Lasheera, worried about Stephanie's sweaty face, went to her medicine cabinet for Tylenol. She waited for Stephanie to sit again before offering the meds.

“Do you want me to call Mr. Wilson?”

“No. He's enjoying himself with Lake and the fellas. Leave him alone. I'll be fine. It's the spicy nachos.”

“You sure?” asked Lasheera. “I'm sure Lake would rather we call than watch you suffer.”

“I'll lean back for about an hour. The pain subsides after a while.”

Aunjanue had another couple's crush moment. She thought it was considerate of Stephanie to let Caleb have time with his friends. The few men her mother dated were smothered by her constant calls, texts, and pop-up visits. Stephanie brought lunch to Caleb, and he in turn sent flowers to her job. She knew this because she heard him on the phone from time to time calling Poppy Florals.

“Ms. Stephanie, how did you and Mr. Wilson meet?”

Stephanie's facial muscles relaxed at the question.

“I met Caleb four years ago in Florida at a birthday party for a mutual friend. He was handsome, studious, and taught seventh-grade art at a school near my old job. I'll admit, sparks didn't fly at first. For him, that is. I actually asked her for his number because I thought he was so handsome. My friend called him the “mystery man” because no one knew a lot about him. He was a handy man in the neighborhood as well as a teacher. We had a few dates…had some fun. But Onnie, he became super excited when I told him my job was transferring me to the Midwest. He said he always wanted to live in the heartland of America. He proposed, and here we are.”

“I love Caleb,” said Lasheera. “He loves you so much. You can see it in the way he looks at you, the way he talks about CJ being born. You're one of the lucky ones.”

“And Lake is chopped liver? You've got a good husband, too,” said Stephanie.

“Correction. We're both lucky. Lake has stuck by me through so much.”

“Amen,” said Stephanie. She gave Lasheera's arm a playful punch.

The doorbell interrupted their revelry. Aunjanue opened the door for Tarsha, who came into the living room carrying a large bag of yellow apples.

“Look at the working girl,” said Lasheera. She stood, hugged Tarsha, and tugged on her Panera hat.

“Mom asked me to bring you these apples. Onnie mentioned you loved this brand, so Dad brought two bags back from his last business trip.”

“Thanks, Tarsha,” said Lasheera. “Don't you want to keep a few?”

Tarsha smiled, revealing her braces. “Two more weeks and I'm done with these. Until then, no apples, popcorn, or candy.”

“Ah, the beautiful smile you'll have when you walk across the stage,” said Lasheera.

“Mom and Dad say the same thing.” Tarsha turned to Aunjanue. “Girl, let's go. I have to be back at work at six in the morning.”

Aunjanue and Tarsha left, both giggling like they were in elementary school. Stephanie watched the door and waited for them to leave.

“I'm glad they're gone.”

“Why?”

“I need to talk to you in private. Aunjanue thinks the world of Caleb, so I didn't want to be negative.” Stephanie paused.

“What's going on?”

“You've had a baby, so you know how hormonal women are. I feel like a big-nosed whale. I have swollen cankles; my face is filled with acne, and I can barely move from point A to point B with taking a leak.”

Lasheera exhaled. “Steph, I thought you meant the man was cheating or something.”

“I could accept that, Lasheera. I'd divorce him, but I'd understand.”

“Well, what is it?”

“I feel I'm not enough for him. I also get the feeling he doesn't want the baby.”

“Hormones times ten. That man loves you. Give me an example of him not wanting
his
child.”

“Intuition. I can't describe it any other way.”

“Yep. Hormones. Talk to me when you have something concrete.” Lasheera popped the top off the Tylenol. “Take one for your intuition and take a nap until the boys get home.”

Stephanie took the Tylenol with the Sprite Lasheera had poured earlier.

“Since you're so sure of my situation, please tell me about the day of the arrest. We haven't discussed it, and I've been wondering how you've been.”

“Short version. I got the wrong prescription at the pharmacy, and I started an affair with Ambien. When I tell you it felt good, I mean it
felt good.
The longer I took it, the less I remembered. People claimed to have had conversations with me I couldn't recall. And the resting. All I needed was a Pamper and a bottle of warm milk. Best sleep I've had all my life!”

“Really.”

“I think it was the Tawatha situation. I hate blaming her for everything, but we're all on edge.”

“Caleb told me she was stalking you all.”

“The only reason I'm open to talking to her now is because Aunjanue wants to rekindle the relationship with her. Get this, she's been sending Aunjanue Vincent van Gogh postcards. Van Gogh is Onnie's favorite artist. Tawatha left them at school and in our mailbox.”

“Why not knock on the door?”

“She knew better. I wouldn't have let her in.”

“What makes you so sure you want to have a relationship with her now?”

“Something has to give. I'd do anything to compromise for the children.”

CJ kicked Stephanie hard. She rubbed him and realized she had at least eighteen years of compromise ahead.

J
ames promised himself this would be the last lie he told Aruba. He did have salon business to handle in Indianapolis. It was also true he had supplies to order, sites to secure, and prospective stylists to interview. What he refused to share was the real reason for his flight back to Indianapolis.

Isaak called him with details of the plan a week ago. He'd left Jeremiah and Aruba in Harlem with her parents. He packed his suitcase, nervous, and afraid the plan might backfire. He couldn't postpone things. It was now or never.

He opened the salon at noon. He cancelled all the appointments and waited. Isaak and Katrina entered Dixon's Kiddies and Tweens around one. Katrina's face lit up when she saw James. She embraced him and Isaak gave him their usual soul brother's shake. Katrina, mug of tea in hand, sat in one of the chairs.

“Are you nervous?” she asked.

“As nervous as I've been in all my life,” said James. “How did you pull this off?”

“I told you I know low people in high places,” Isaak joked. “Seriously, I've known Brandon Reese for years. It wasn't until things happened with this situation that I realized he'd adopted her. I remember him saying in passing his wife wanted a child, but his soldiers were out of commission. Next thing I knew, I saw them out at dinner with a beautiful daughter in tow.”

James remembered her pictures. He wanted to see his daughter. When he learned she was performing in the Indianapolis Children's Choir Christmas Concert, he thought of ways to see her performance. He and Isaak put their heads together, and soon, devised a plan to give her a small gift and see the concert as well.

“We have to leave, but I wanted to stop in and check on you,” said Isaak. “If you want us to stay, we will.”

“No, I'm fine.”

“Call us if you need us,” said Katrina.

As they left the salon, Camille Reese entered Kiddies and Tweens holding Hannah's hand. She was a tall, regal woman who carried herself like a queen. She wore an elegant red-and-black wool winter coat with black fur surrounding the collar. When she removed her coat, James noticed her lovely figure in a gray, tweed winter business suit. Her hair, swept in an updo with loose curls framing her face, accentuated her medium-brown complexion. Hannah took in the surroundings as her mother approached James.

“You must be James Dixon. I've seen your commercials and always wanted to bring Hannah here.” They shook hands as Hannah moved closer to him.

“I'm Hannah Reese. It's nice to meet you,” she said, shaking James's hand. “I'm singing in the concert tonight!” Hannah flashed a toothy grin and giggled as she placed her hands over her mouth.

“You are?” He gave Camille a knowing smile. “What will you sing tonight?”

“I'm singing ‘The First Noel' with the choir,” she said. “I had to audition, and I beat out a lot of other girls. My daddy said I'm an awesome singer.”

The punch hit James hard.
My daddy.
He maintained his composure and addressed Camille.

“How would you like her hair styled, Mrs. Reese?”

Camille looked around the shop for other children. “Is Hannah the only child getting her hair done today?”

“In this salon, yes. A friend of mine, Isaak Benford, owed your husband a favor, so we closed the shop down for Hannah to get her hair done. She'll also get a clear manicure and pedicure if you'd like.”

“Mom, may I?”

Camille didn't like the idea of children getting manicures and pedicures, but Hannah was excited about the concert, and Camille didn't see why she shouldn't allow Hannah this small luxury.

“Okay, Precious. Just this once.”

“Hannah, if you'd have a seat in the chair over there, I'll be with you soon. I need to discuss your hairdo with your mom.”

Hannah skipped over to a seat and rifled through a stack of children's hair magazines. Satisfied with one, she sat in the chair and flipped through the pages.

“Is there a specific look you'd like to achieve?” he asked.

“I hope this doesn't sound pompous, but she'll be singing in the front row, so I want her to have an eye-catching look.”

“Updo or something down?”

“She has such lovely hair. I want her to have bouncy curls.
Tod
dlers & Tiaras
turned me off from updos.”

They laughed at her joke. “I can do that. I'll wash, blow dry her hair, and use Marcel irons. Are you okay with that?”

“Perfect.”

“I have food in the break area if you're hungry, and you may watch television if you'd like.”

“I'll sit here and watch Hannah get her hair done.”

James joined Hannah at her chair and placed a smock around
her. He pumped up the chair so he could examine Hannah's hair. He released her flowing mane from a single ponytail down her back.

“Tell me something about yourself, Hannah.”

“I'm a first-grader at St. Roch.”

“I bet you're a smart girl.”

She nodded as James parted her hair. He decided he'd do large curls for the concert.

“I like going to school, and I like learning. Mommy said I didn't need to attend Head Start or kindergarten because I'm gifted.”

James liked her confidence. “I need you to come with me to the bowl so I can wash your hair, Hannah.”

Hannah followed James to the bowl, holding the flowing cape close to her body. She scooted up in the seat as he lathered her hair.

“Do you do a lot of little girls' hair?” she asked.

“Not as much as I used to, but I do hair for boys and girls.”

“I told Mommy and Daddy I want a little brother. They said I'm all they need.”

“I'm sure you're a joy to have around,” he said. He blotted her hair, escorted her back to her seat, and blow dried her hair. She sat patiently as he completed the task. The front door opened as he warmed the curling irons. Camille stood, kissed a tall man in a heavy winter coat, and took his coat. They exchanged words as he gave Camille his briefcase.

“I see you're busy with my princess, but I'm Brandon Reese.”

“James Dixon. I do have my hands full, but it's nice to make your acquaintance.”

“Daddy!”

Brandon planted a quick peck on Hannah's cheek and sat with Camille. They chatted, and James noticed the loving air between them.

“Are you coming to the concert tonight?” Hannah asked.

“No. I have business to take care of, but I know you'll do a wonderful job singing.”

“I wish you could listen to me sing,” she said.

“If the concert still airs on television, I'll watch you tonight. Deal?”

“Deal.”

James finished her hair, gave her a pedicure and a manicure, and gave her a kiddie bag from the stockroom. He kept bags prepared for boys and girls who frequented the shop. Her bag contained products and a ticket to the Children's Museum of Indianapolis. James watched her run to Brandon, who stood with open arms.

“Daddy, do you like it?” She twirled around to show him her concert hairdo. Her big curls bounced as she whirled.

“Princess, you are the most beautiful girl in the world!”