The Black Chapel (22 page)

I look up at Michael and he has tears in his eyes. Oh, how I wish I could comfort him right now. He looks like a lost little boy who doesn’t know what to do. I take his hand, and his eyes, though filled with unspeakable sorrow, are filled with anger.

“I wanted to meet you both before I die,” Diane says.

“Mom, please don’t,” Michael says softly.

“Oh hush, Michael. Let you poor, old, dying mother say what she wants,” Diane says.

I smile. Not many women can be that feisty on their deathbeds.

“There’s something fishy going on with you two. I can smell it, but I don’t know what it is,” Diane says.

Crap, she’s on to us. I hope she isn’t changing her mind about the inheritance. That would be bad, very, very bad.

“What do you mean, Mother?” Michael says.

“I can see that you two love each other very much. That is clear. But there’s something you’re not telling me. Now would be the time to confess it,” Diane says.

I look at Michael for direction. The last thing I want to do is lie to a dying woman.

“It’s true. We love each other very much, but we are dealing with some issues of trust in our relationship,” Michael says.

That’s the understatement of the century, I think. Where is he going with this?

Michael continues. “We are considering separating because of these trust issues.”

Everything he’s said up until this point is true. He’s great at leaving out information.

“I see,” Diane says. “Anything else?”

Should I tell her? I think about my own dad. He, too is suffering from cancer, and if he doesn’t receive his treatment, he’ll die. If I speak up, the deal is off and my dad will surely die. If I don’t speak up, I’m a liar. I don’t want to be a liar. But what is the right thing to do? I close my eyes and follow my gut instinct. The one I haven’t been listening to for years. The one that would probably have saved me all this pain and trouble. The only right think to do is to tell her the whole truth. I open my eyes.

“Mrs. Manning?” I say.

“Yes?” Diane says.

I take a deep breath. “I need to tell you something.”

Michael looks at me, his eyes pleading for me to remain silent. But I can’t keep silent anymore. I’m done with all the lies. I’m sorry, Dad. Tears fill my eyes.

“I’m sorry Michael. I can’t live like this anymore. I have to be honest with myself and with everyone else.” I turn to Mrs. Manning.

“Scarlett?” Michael says, but I ignore him. I’m not going to let him stop me.

“We got married so that Michael wouldn’t lose his inheritance,” I say. “I’m really sorry. But I needed the money for—well—let me just go from the start.”

I hear Michael panting and blowing as he’s pacing back and forth. But I couldn’t care less that he’s angry with me. This dying woman deserves the truth, and I need to tell her before she dies.

“I’m a stripper. Well, was I guess, until just this last week. I first kind of met Michael at the club. He asked for my information, but I refused him. You see, I had decided to never date anyone I met at the club.”

Diane’s face has frozen.

“The next day, my friend dragged me to church and I met Michael again. It was a total freak coincidence meeting him two days in a row. He, of course didn’t recognize me because I always wear a mask when I perform at the strip club. But after church, he asked me out.” I pause.

“Go on,” Diane says emotionless.

“On our first date, he proposed this ridiculous deal that if I’d marry him within a few weeks and divorce him after you—” I gulp. “—died, he’d split this inheritance with me fifty-fifty.”

“And you agreed to this?” Diane asks. She is frowning heavily.

“Yes,” I say, ashamed.

“Michael,” she curses under her breath and shoots him a killer glare. How does she do that? It’s like she can kill someone with just one glance. “Why Scarlett, did you accept this ridiculous deal?” Her eyes look golden.

“Because I desperately needed the money. I’m behind on my parents’ mortgage payments, and could lose their house. The house my father built. And I am trying to get chemotherapy treatments for my dad; he too is suffering from cancer, but I didn’t have the money. So I saw this as a way out of all my financial problems. And then I—fell in love with Michael in the process.”

Diane nods slowly. “So you did it all out of love?”

I’m surprised by her question. “I suppose. But it doesn’t excuse the fact that I lied.”

“Michael, you greedy son of a bitch.” Diane stares at him.

Michael doesn’t say a word, but his jaw is clenched shut.

“Don’t be so hard on him,” I say. “He just wanted to keep the money in the family. And I do feel sorry for him that his ex-fiancé had just broken up with him. I mean, that’s not his fault.”

“Bah, she was no good for him anyway,” Diane says. “Michael, I’d like to speak with your wife alone, if you don’t mind.”

He looks at her, and then at me and then storms out.

“I’m sorry for your involvement in this. My son, apparently, has no boundaries when it comes to getting his hands on the family money.” Diane looks at me, completely sober. “Let me ask you this. Do you still love him?”

“Honestly?” I say.

Her brow furrows. “Just tell me the truth, Scarlett. No more lies.”

I look down at the floor. “Yes,” I say, barely a whisper. My eyes are brimming with tears now, and I feel so lost. “I’m really sorry I lied to everyone. I should have been truthful from the beginning.”

“Well, I think you’ve suffered enough, dear girl. Michael isn’t exactly a saint. He’s a good man, but he needs a strong woman to keep him in line. You are that strong woman. And I think he loves you still, but his pride is too bruised to see it,” Diane says.

“No, I think he hates me. Especially now that I exposed our devious plan.”

Diane flicks her hand toward me. “Oh, he’ll get over it.”

“I don’t think so,” I say.

“If he doesn’t, it will be his loss.” She takes a moment to inhale some oxygen through an oxygen mask next to her bed. “I hope you find it in your heart to forgive me for what I did. I understand it has caused quite a stir in the community.”

“Well, now everyone thinks we’re madly in love. So it wasn’t as embarrassing as it could have been,” I say.

She pats my hand. “Will you send Michael in? I’d like to have a word with him alone.”

I nod and give her a long hug. “I’m sorry it has to be this way,” I say. What do I say to a woman who is dying, knowing that this will probably be one of the last times, if not the last time I see her?

I head out to the hallway and fetch Michael. His face is as cold as ice and I shutter.

“Meet me at home,” he says. “We need to talk.” And then he’s gone.

I eat dinner alone at Michael’s house and just kind of wait around for him to arrive. Michael comes home right after nine o’clock. When he arrives, I’m sitting in the library, reading a book on how to clean almost anything. Not that I’m really interested in that, but I need something to distract me from my crazy life.

“She says she’s changed the deal,” Michael says.

I stand up, my heart immediately in my throat. “To what?”

“She didn’t say. Says it depends on us,” he seethes.

“On us? What does that mean?” I ask.

“Your guess is as good as mine. But, from now on, I’m going to consider my inheritance money lost.”

I feel like I just lost the battle for my dad’s life, and I begin to cry hysterically. “I’m sorry I broke my promise to you,” I say. “It’s just I can’t live like this anymore, Michael. It’s too painful.”

Michael sighs, but he’s not as angry as I thought he would be. In fact he seems very humble. “Scarlett. I’m sorry I dragged you into this. I can’t blame you for wanting to be honest.”

I nod and sniffle. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out. I’ll move out today. No use in keeping up our façade.” I begin heading for the door, but Michael takes my hand.

My heart starts beating hard. Michael wraps one arm around my waist, with the other, he caresses my cheek, wiping away my tears. Then he kisses me gently, but only once. Then he leans his forehead against mine, his eyes closed.

“Good bye, Scarlett,” he says.

“Goodbye,” I say.

He takes a step back, moving out of my way. “Please take with you all your clothes.”

“I wouldn’t know where to fit them all,” I say. “Donate them to charity.”

He nods and I’m heading toward the master bedroom, with tears flowing down my face. Lucy helps me get packed, and we say farewell. She doesn’t really know what’s going on, but I tell her it’s for the best. I give her my cell number before I leave so we can keep in touch.

After having packed my bags in the trunk of my car, I head home. I think about calling Anne, but she’s at work. Then I think about heading over to my dad’s but he’s probably sleeping. I head to the kitchen, grab some tequila and pour myself a few shots. One after another, they go down, and soon, I’m feeling a lot more relaxed, not really remembering all the pain that’s in my heart.

I crash on the couch and go to sleep.

Next morning I wake up with a monster headache. All the crying and alcohol are not good for me, and on top of that, I’m feeling the most depressed about my life as I ever have. I hate myself. I hate where I‘m at, and the only one I have to blame for my woeful state is once again myself.

I hop into the shower and let the scorching water run down my body. I wish water could wash away all the crap on the inside, too.

While I’m putting my make-up on, I hear my phone ringing downstairs. I bolt downstairs and answer it just in the nick of time.

“Hello” I say.

“Scarlett?”

“Yes,” I say.

“It’s Michael.”

“Yes, I know,” I say.

“I just wanted to call you to let you know my mother passed away early this morning,” Michael says.

“Oh, Michael, I’m so sorry to hear. I don’t have the words to express,” I say.

“The funeral has been scheduled for Friday at 10:00 a.m. Could you come, and then I can also have you sign the annulment papers at the same time?”

I freeze. I didn’t think things would happen so quickly. But of course he wants to move on with his life as fast as possible. “Yes, of course,” I say. He hangs up, and I’m left to my own devices, my own sorrow, my own shame.

Michael is no good for me. Anne was right all along. He’s too absorbed in his own needs to see what I’m going through. For a moment I’m glad that things haven’t worked out between us. The worst thing that could happen is that we’d stay married, and then ten, fifteen, twenty years down the road, we’d find out that we still don’t trust each other. All that time would have been wasted, and I’m sure the sorrow then, would have been so much worse than it is now. It feels good to have that chapter behind me now. Though my heart is still a raw, festering wound, I feel good knowing where I’m going. I’m going to lose my parents’ house. I’m going to lose my car. I have no job. But I think my father will survive his cancer. I’ll have him. I’ll still have my best friend Anne, and I’ll still have my health and a new future where I can make things the way I want.

Friday is quickly here. I’m dressed in my black dress, the same one I wore to Michael and my first date. Walking into the church, I see him up at the front of the Portland Episcopal Church next to the closed casket. There’s a crowd of people surrounding him. Though he’s dressed in a really nice black suit, black shirt and dark gray tie, he looks awful. His hair, though messy, doesn’t have its usual sexy look. His eyes are red and sunken, and his cheeks are sunken, also.

I don’t quite know how to approach him, so I sit down in a pew by myself, and wait. The hundreds of people who have showed up are reverent, and are slowly making their way to their seats.

Michael sees me and raises his right hand to greet me, but doesn’t come over. The service is lovely, filled with lots of stories about Mrs. Manning and her life. She accomplished so much, but between the stories, I know there was a sea of loneliness and pain.

Michael speaks too, and though he looks strong at the pulpit, his eyes dry, I know he’s hurting on the inside.

Once the service is finished, Michael finally comes over to see me. “I have the annulment papers ready in the Reverend Summerlin’s office. Will you follow me?”

As we walk through the walkway in between the pews, everyone smiles at us as we pass them. They probably still think we’re happily married. No one knows I’m headed to fill out my annulment papers.

Once back in the office, Michael’s lawyer is waiting for us. Michael opens a yellow envelope and pulls out the papers. “He’s here to witness. You only need to sign a few places if you agree.”

I nod. “I agree,” I say. Oh, no, this is really it. We’re getting an annulment, and I’ll probably never see Michael again.

“Will you excuse us for a moment?” Michael says to the lawyer. The lawyer nods and leaves.

“I want to let you know that I’m sorry for the trust that was broken between us,” I say.

“Yeah, me, too,” Michael says, looking me in the eyes. He nears me, and I feel that pull toward him, like I always do when he’s around. Even here at this moment, I still want to be with him. Even after all he has put me through, even after all I have put him through. Our lives and actions may be dishonest, but out love is honest and pure and true.

The atmosphere in the room changes and he looks me in the eyes. There, I see caring. There I see kindness.

I feel myself letting my guard down. “Michael—”

He lunges at me and forces my hips onto the desk. His lips are hungry and strong, pulling me in deeper and deeper. He pulls my hair gently and bites my lower lip.

“Oh, Scarlett, if we could only start over,” he says.

I want that, too. Even after I’ve realized he’s no good for me. My body is screaming for his, and all the determination I had to start over, to figure a new way is being threatened. I start to cry. “Michael,” I say. “Please stop.”

He stops. He’s still close so I can feel his breath on my face. His familiar sexy breath. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He steps back. “I just wanted us to be real.”