My Steps Are Ordered (2 page)

Three years earlier . . .

 

“Say you'll be here for Gina's party. Colleen and Terence can't make it, so I'm counting on you to show your ugly face. Trey's been asking for his favorite uncle Keith.” Michael Ward, Keith's brother, threw in that last tidbit for emotional blackmail.

Keith Ward grinned, picturing the rambunctious little boy giving the pint-sized Gina a run for her money. “I'm his only uncle Keith. Is he still running like his pants are on fire?”

“Yup, and you should see Gina try to pick him up. He's already half her size.”

Sitting in a leather chair in his office located on Queens Boulevard in New York City, Keith propped his foot on another chair and looked up at the ceiling. Going to Atlanta would mean that he would be seeing
her
again. Gina. His blessing and his curse. Who was he fooling? Of course he'd be there.

“Okay, I'll come. Let me know if you need me to take care of anything on my end,” Keith offered. As soon as he ended the call, he grabbed his briefcase. He needed to head to the courthouse, located two blocks away.

While he'd been on the phone, his secretary had handed him a message that the judge was ready to make a ruling on the Harper Wills case. After two grueling months, he was glad a decision had been made.

As he walked, Keith took a stroll down memory lane. Michael had been love struck when he'd met Gina Price, her name at the time, at his business partner, Terence Hayworth's wedding. His brother tended to attract psychopaths, so Keith had been prepared to dislike and dismiss this new woman who had his brother spellbound. But the moment he'd seen Gina Price, Keith had gotten the shock of his life.

Before Gina, Keith hadn't known there was such a thing as instant love at first sight or even real animal attraction, but that was how it had been. Before her, he'd only been in love once, with Vanessa Arnold. Sadly, she'd been killed by a drunk driver. However, Keith's feelings for Vanessa paled in comparison to what he felt for Gina.

Gina was like a fire that consumed him.

Keith stopped. He stood at the foot of the ten steps leading up to the entrance of the courthouse. He dragged his hands down his face, pulling on his cheeks, as the memories flooded him.

Twice.
On two sweet occasions, he'd been with Gina.

The first time was right before his brother's near fatal car accident. When Gina and Michael were dating, she found out Michael had cheated with his crazy ex, Karen Newton, and had broken things off with him.

To Keith, this had been fate giving him his chance. He had rushed to Gina's house and he hadn't had any reservations about professing his love. It sounded like the plot of a cheap romance novel, but he'd been convinced that Gina was his destiny. This was his time—his moment, he'd told himself. His heart rang with joy when Gina confessed she'd felt the same way.

And he'd had her, for one sweet night that he'd hoped would last forever. However, for Gina and Keith there had been no happy-ever-after. They shared one of the most mind-boggling, emotionally charged intimate experiences uniting their soul . . . Remembering, Keith felt the old guilt begin to eat at him again . . . and, then the call came.

Michael, feeling guilty about cheating on Gina, had lost control of the vehicle while speeding to her house and crashed, almost killing himself.

Keith remembered how his body had shaken with fear when he'd learned that Michael was in a coma. The wait had been agonizing. By some divine intervention, Michael had awakened with no residual brain damage and Gina patched things up with him. At her urging, Keith and Gina agreed never to talk about what transpired between them.

Plagued with guilt, Gina pressed, “It never happened.”

After his near death experience, Michael had wasted no time in putting a rock on Gina's finger and wedding plans commenced with so much speed that Keith felt like he was in a time warp.

Keith trudged up the stairs as her words pounded in his head.
It never happened.
He made a fist. But, it had once.

And again.

There had been a second time. Keith shrugged. He'd better leave that as a secret of the past.

Entering the designated courtroom, Keith put his briefcase on the table, pulled out the battered leather chair, sat, and waited for his client, Harper Wills, to arrive. Keith drummed his fingers on the table, his mind on Gina.

He couldn't control the quivers of anticipation that rocked through his spine. He ached to see her. Soon . . . soon he would. He felt like a kid who was about to be given an all-you-can-eat day in a candy store. However, lucky for him, while he sat there musing, none of his thoughts showed on his face.

When he left the courthouse, he was going to go gift shopping. It would be late, but he lived in the city that never slept, so he wasn't concerned. After the guilty verdict, as soon as the gavel hit the desk, Keith went through the motions, entered an appeal and shot out of there. He knew just the perfect gift.

 

 

The days flew by, and before he knew it, Keith found himself scurrying to catch the flight from JFK Airport to Atlanta. Since he carried only a small carry-on, he made it to the plane right before the final boarding call. With a dismissive glance at the other passengers, he settled into his seat. There was enough legroom for him to stretch out.

As he watched the clouds during the plane's ascent, Keith sighed. He was grateful Michael had planned the trip. He relished leaving the hustle and bustle of New York, and its crazy, demanding work hours, for five days. Taking a deep breath, he settled deeper into the comfy seat. He could feel the muscles in his neck and back relaxing already.

His plane made good time and landed without incident. With his height of six-three, Keith had no trouble spotting Michael, who was awaiting his arrival just outside the security checkpoint.

“Hey, big bro!” Michael gave him a hearty hug.

“It's been a while,” Keith replied, feeling good about seeing his brother. It had been almost six months since his last visit.

“I've missed you,” Michael declared, a little misty-eyed.

“Same here, bro,” Keith said.

“What about me?”

Keith knew whom the small voice belonged to. “Hi, Trey,” he said. Two little fists clutched his trousers. Keith bent to peel Trey's hands off his pants. His chubby fingers were sticky. Not caring, Keith held out his arms.

“Yippee!” Trey squealed and jumped into his arms.

Keith's heart expanded with indescribable joy. “You've gotten so big, Little Man.”

Trey nodded and opened his mouth to show off his new tooth. Keith noted that the boy's honey-colored complexion, curly hair, and hazel-green eyes were a gift from his grandma Gerry. At four, Trey was already so tall that Keith was convinced that he would overtake him.

“You guys are going to have to watch the women.” Keith looked at Michael. “He's probably breaking hearts in preschool.”

Michael chuckled. “Don't I know it? I predict he's going to be like you, a magnet for the ladies.”

“What did you bring me?” Trey asked his uncle.

“Trey.”
Michael was annoyed at his son's blunt request, but Keith laughed.

He waved off Michael's rebuke. “It's okay. I like the direct, up-front approach.” Keith's biceps expanded as he adjusted Trey in his strong arms.

Michael poked Keith in the ribs and whispered, “Still affecting the females, I see.”

Keith harrumphed. He looked around, noticing a group of women eyeing him, then ignored them. He was here for his family, nothing else. “Don't start,” he warned and walked off.

Michael grabbed Keith's carry-on and said, “What? You can't blame them for being entranced by a movie star in their midst.”

“Spare me the humor, Michael.”

“Well, when you've got it, you've got it. I'm just saying you missed your calling.” Michael listed Keith's physical attributes all the way to his car. “Accept it. You're too pretty for words.”

“Michael.” Keith gritted his teeth as Michael clicked the locks to open the car doors. Once Trey was buckled into his car seat and both brothers were seated, Keith closed his eyes and prayed for strength. Sometimes his brother took a joke too far. “Enough. I think you have way too much fun jabbing at me.”

Michael surrendered and started the drive to his home. They moved on to safer topics, mostly business, which Michael was much more serious about. He had expanded his ventures from architecture to acquiring real estate properties, fixing them, and flipping them for a profit. Keith was so proud of his brother's success and told him so.

“I'm looking to get into investing next,” Michael said.

“You're going to be the next Donald Trump,” Keith declared. “Next, I'm going to be watching you on TV, saying, ‘You're fired.'”

His brother grinned. “And you know it! I'm just grateful to Tyler Simmonds for giving me my first break in the big leagues. He and his wife, Camille, should be at Gina's party.”

Keith nodded. Michael had referenced the owner of Simmonds Synthetics. Though he didn't respond, as Michael was pulling into the driveway of his and Gina's palatial house in Suwanee, Georgia.

The front door opened, Gina stepped through it, and Keith's heart stopped. He didn't have eyes for the well-manicured lawn or the lilies. He didn't mention the beautiful landscaping, which he knew Michael had spent a fortune on to create and then maintain.

No, Keith had eyes only for Gina. She had her medium-length hair in big, bouncy curls, and she looked a little rounder than the last time he'd seen her. Her extra weight only added to her appeal. In short, Gina was beautiful to him. Her size was insignificant. Keith was in love with the woman . . . her essence.

“Mommy!” Trey squealed, holding out his arms.

Gina came over to hug her son. “Mommy missed you,” she said, helping him out of the car seat.

Keith saw her check him out from under her lashes and patted his stomach. He was in top physical shape from working out.

“Hi, Gina. It's been a long time.” Keith offered the perfunctory salutation in a low, calm tone. On the inside, he was a veritable mess. He didn't know how he was able to stand there, so poised, when the woman of his dreams stood mere inches in front of him. He commanded himself to refrain from snatching her into his arms.

“Keith,” Gina breathed as she walked into his arms and gave him a warm hug.

It was like she'd read his mind. Keith tightened the embrace. He inhaled her scent. She smelled like a sun-ripened peach, and he determined never to let her go. If only . . .

“Hey, get your big paws off and quit mauling my wife,” Michael joked. “You need to give some of that loving to the ladies ogling you at the airport.”

Here we go again,
Keith groaned silently. The two parted with a small, awkward chuckle at Michael's wittiness. This was one moment when Keith was thankful that though his brother was a shark in the business world, he was clueless when it came to matters of the heart.

A blind man could see the combustion, the sizzling electricity between he and Gina. It crackled and swirled around them like a tornado. A dormant animalistic urge that surfaced every time they were within feet of each other. That's why he'd nixed his plans tot move to Georgia once Michael and Gina did. He needed to keep his distance.

Michael, however, remained blissfully unaware, which made their guilt enormous. How could he be so naïve?

“It's a good thing I know I can trust you, big brother, or it'd be on,” Michael jested, reaching inside his car for Keith's carry-on.

Keith and Gina locked eyes but didn't respond.

“I'll help you, Daddy,” Keith heard Trey say, but he was still looking at Gina, who now had a slight blush grazing her face.

She was rubbing at her arms, and he knew she felt the loss like he did. When she placed her finger over her lips, he knew exactly what she was thinking.

“Stop reading my mind,” she mouthed at him.

Michael preceded them into the house, with Trey in tow. Gina gave Keith a thoughtful look as she took his hand to lead him inside.

“No, I haven't found anyone,” Keith volunteered.

“How do you do that?” Gina whispered.

“It's always been like that with us,” Keith returned for her ears only. He gave her hand a small squeeze. “Why should this instance be any different?”

Gina nodded but didn't comment. Her silence meant she knew he told the truth. It was how it had always been between them. They were able to know instinctively what the other was thinking, connecting on a mental level that defied words. They didn't need small talk. They didn't need anything . . . just each other.

June 18 . . .

 

“Whoo-hoo! This is how you bring in thirty-four!” Gina exclaimed, swinging her arms in beat to the tune of “Turn the Beat Around.” The deejay was on a seventies kick, and she was loving it.

Her actual birthday had been the day before. Michael had taken her out to a special dinner. This party was a complete surprise. Wearing an Anne Klein coral-colored halter dress that was a gift from Michael, Gina had danced with everyone at the party except for Keith. She was too afraid of what might show on her face and what her body language would give away. It was diabolical that the one she yearned to dance with was the one she had to avoid. She wanted Keith, and she was afraid she wouldn't be able to hide it.

Keith's arms were folded across his chest as he leaned against the wall. Their eyes met. She knew Keith had been checking her out all night from under hooded eyes. It was disconcerting. Not knowing what else to do, she reached up and twirled her hair with her fingers. Willing herself to look away and maintain discretion, Gina sought Michael. She watched as her husband left a group of friends and walked over to his brother.

Since Keith's arrival, the two brothers had been joined at the hip. They had taken Trey all over town. It did her heart good to see them both so relaxed. They worked hard and deserved the playtime. She had stayed in, not wanting to intrude on their time together.

Besides, she treasured her solitude.

Once Trey was born, Gina epitomized the ultimate stay-at-home mom. But it did not give her much time to herself. She could afford at least ten nannies but wanted the hands-on experience of raising a child. She did not want to miss any part of motherhood. In fact, she and Michael were talking about more children. Growing up an only child, Gina wished she'd had siblings, so she didn't want Trey to be alone.

Caught up in her musings, it took a minute to register that someone was calling her name, frantic to get her attention. “Gina! Come quick. It's Trey. He's fallen!”

What?
Gina's maternal instincts went into overdrive. Her feet catapulted her in the direction of all the commotion. Since Michael and Gina had friends with young children, like themselves, his invite had encouraged parents to bring their children to Gina's party. He had hired sitters and set up entertainment for the children in their basement. Trey must have left the children to seek out his parents, as he was upstairs.

A small crowd had gathered around him, but they parted like the Red Sea when Gina dashed over to her son. She told herself not to panic, but that did not stop her quick intake of breath and her sheer terror when she saw Trey lying lifeless on the floor.

“Trey!”
She looked around. “What happened to him?”

Michael was right by her side. “Did he fall?”

“He passed out,” someone said.

“Don't move him,” another cautioned.

Gina wanted to do nothing more than pick him up in her arms, but she knew it was best not to lift him. Her hands grazed her son's face. She ran her fingers through his hair, willing her shaky hands to calm down. She heard the distinct wail of an ambulance rushing in the distance. Her heart hammered. She covered her ears, willing herself to calm down. Gina remained rooted to the spot until the fire truck and the ambulance arrived. Her legs felt like rubber as she jumped in the ambulance, which would transport Trey to the Children's Healthcare of Atlanta in Duluth, a six-minute ride from their home in Suwanee. Keith and Michael followed behind.

Hours rolled by. The emergency room physician called for a pediatric critical-care specialist, Dr. Newman, who ordered test after test. Trey was assigned a private room. Gina's head spun from the number of people who entered the room to do this or that. Her mouth felt dry from having to repeat the same medical history whenever a new face popped in.

“Yes, Trey had been eating less. I don't know if he felt faint.”

“No, I wasn't concerned.”

“His father and uncle had been running him all over town.”

“No, I don't know if Trey had a fever.”

She resisted the urge to scream, “Don't you guys read the chart? Isn't it all on the computer?” What she wanted was answers, but all they had for her were questions. She felt herself caving. She was going to lose it. She dropped her head against her husband's chest, and he wrapped his arms around her.

“He's going to be okay,” Michael whispered. “We have to wait for the test results to come back, but we must remain positive.”

Gina raised her head and nodded. Of course, Michael was right. Michael was always right. She looked over his shoulder. Keith was leaning against the wall, with one foot propped and his arms crossed. She'd been avoiding his eyes since he'd come to her house, but now he was staring at her with deep intensity. She allowed herself to get lost in those eyes, to find comfort in them.

“He was with you guys,” she said. She hardly recognized her own weak and pitiful voice. “Did you notice anything different?”

Michael released her. “He was . . . I don't know . . . maybe tired, but I thought that was from all the running around.”

Gina marched to Trey's bedside. She gripped the bed railing with both hands, closed her eyelids tight, and tried to remember what he'd been like when she was dressing him for the party, when she'd dressed him earlier that day, at breakfast, at bedtime the night before. She shook her head. She'd missed something. She had to have missed something. Kids didn't pass out without some kind of warning.

“I'm going to step out and return Mom's call,” Michael said. “I left a message earlier to let her know what was going on.”

Gina nodded. Calling her mother-in-law hadn't crossed her mind. The door squeaked as Michael made his exit. Fatigue was setting in. She used a hand to massage her neck. That was when Keith put his hands on her shoulders and squeezed for her. She let her head drop back against his chest. She knew it was wrong. She knew Michael could walk in at any time, but she needed to draw from Keith's strength.

“He's going to be okay,” he whispered, kissing the top of her head.

“You promise?” She clung to his words.

He squeezed her shoulders again. “I promise.”

Gina turned into him and began to cry.

Keith stretched his arms behind her. He pulled tissues from the box on the table and swiped under her eyes. “Baby, you don't want to upset Trey. You don't know what he can hear,” he shushed.

She sniffed, “You're right. I know it. I just . . .”
Get it together, girl.
She blotted her nose and lifted grateful eyes to him. “I'm glad you're here.”

“I couldn't be anywhere else. I love my nephew, and God help me, I love you.”

Not knowing what else to do, she decided to take her best friend, Colleen Hayworth's advice and pray for her son. She'd called her hours ago, and Colleen and her husband, Terence, were storming heaven with their prayers. As she whispered to God, the sobs welled up within her. Gina put her hands over her mouth to keep from wailing. Her eyes remained peeled on the door as she willed the doctors to come and tell her it was some kind of weird bug that could be treated at home with medication and rest. The wait was nerve wracking.

“Do you want me to go see what is taking so long?” Keith asked.

“Yes, but maybe Michael's talking to someone. He's been gone awhile.”

Keith covered her hand with his briefly. “Maybe,” he said. On cue, the door swung open, and Michael reentered the room.

“Where have you been?” Keith sounded annoyed.

“I . . . I was sick. My nerves . . .” Michael replied.

“Come here,” Gina beckoned to him. She had a slight whisper of a smile for her penitent spouse. She had not eaten much of anything, or she also would have been throwing up. So she could relate.

Michael complied, and she found herself sandwiched between the two men. She shifted and leaned into her husband. She'd hoped he would hold her the way Keith had, but true to who he was, Michael was caught up in his own grief. He wouldn't be able to comfort her. Not really.

Keith shook his legs and stretched.

She knew Keith wanted to be the one holding her. But Michael was her husband and the father of her son. He was the one with whom she shared that bond of parenthood. Keith could empathize, but she doubted that he would understand until he had his own child.

After an interminable time, Dr. Newman entered the room. Sensing their eagerness, he didn't belabor the point. “We're still running some tests, but the preliminary scans have me a little concerned. I don't want to worry you, but I have to be sure before diagnosing. I have ordered a complete blood cell count.”

Trey squinted from the doctor's touch, but otherwise he remained still.

“What are you looking for?” Gina asked, with a tremor in her voice.

“I know it's hard, Mrs. Ward, but hold on a little longer,” the doctor soothed, ending his investigation.

By this time, both Keith and Michael had moved into his space. Dr. Newman was of medium build and average height with blond, curly hair, so the Ward men towered over him. The doctor didn't appear the least bit intimidated. He was the best in his field and one of the leading pediatric specialists in the nation.

“Was it something he ate?” Keith asked. “Could he have ingested something by mistake?”

“No, we've already ruled out food poisoning. We didn't find any foreign objects in his body and we've also ruled out appendicitis,” Dr. Newman replied, already anticipating the next question. “His liver and spleen are swollen, so I ordered a spinal tap, as well. I'm waiting for the result of the test. I should know more in the next few hours. I will be back once all the labs are in and I have taken a look at them.”

Dr. Newman gave them a curt, but sympathetic smile and left the room.

“That told us nothing.” Michael clenched his fists. “I need to know what is wrong with my son. Like, yesterday.” He expelled a loud breath and then tried to inject humor into the situation. “Well, this is one party no one is going to forget anytime soon.”

No one smiled.

No one responded.

Feeling awkward, Michael declared, “I'm going to call Mom again,” before leaving the room.