Truth Be Told (11 page)

She jumped from the bed, rushed to the door, and stood listening before she stepped into the hallway. The house was dark, except for the gentle glow of bronze from the night lights in the hallway. Her eyes adjusted, and the years in the house allowed her to take the familiar steps to the stairs. At the bottom of the staircase, she paused when silence and darkness were all that met her. She moved to the living room.

Conner stood the moment she came under the archway. She folded her arms and blinked back tears that now filled her eyes. “Tell me everything.”

In the dark, she could see his shadow nod. “I want to.” He walked to her, but with just a small slip, she evaded his arms.

Conner turned on the light.

He moved toward her, but when he got to the couch, his eyes darted between where she sat and where he'd been. He lowered himself away from her. “I don't know where to begin.”

His words made her tears flow as her mind took her back to a time when she'd sat in the same place, uttering the same words: “I don't know where to begin.” It was a statement of betrayal and a sign that more would follow—apologies and explanations. She wondered if his heart had ached then as much as hers did now.

“The first thing I want you to know is that I am so sorry.”

She stayed stiff in her place, not giving him a reprieve.

Conner began, “It was a long time ago, Grace. It was right after I found out about you and Drew.”

Her head jerked back at her ex-lover's name. “You're saying this is my fault?”

He shook his head. “I just want to explain.” He lowered his eyes. “It seemed like Drew was going to be part of our lives forever. I was trying to understand what he gave you that I couldn't. I was hurting.”

“And she was there.”

He nodded. “I tried to fool myself into thinking that I felt better, but I didn't.” His words came quicker. “It didn't last, Grace, because I knew that I wanted you, and I prayed that you wanted me. Pilar left, and we began counseling. I never thought about her again.”

She let his words hang in the air for a moment. “I can't believe this, Conner.”

“I know. I am so sorry.”

“That's not what I'm talking about.” She stopped. “During our counseling, during our healing, you let me believe it was me. That I was the cause of our problems.”

“I never said that. We were both responsible.”

“But I believed that I was the root of every trouble we had.” Her voice trembled.

“I never wanted you to think that.”

“I've carried this burden for years.”

“You shouldn't have. I told you, Grace, I forgave you a long time ago.”

She glared at him. She could see the moisture covering his eyes. “That's the problem, Conner. Because you forgave me, but you never gave me the chance to forgive you.”

She stood and left the room.

G
race blinked, until her eyes focused. Where am I? she wondered. Then she remembered. Conner's confession—the pain of his words. It had all driven her to a fitful night on the couch in their office.

Last night, she'd retreated to their bedroom, but the moment Conner joined her in bed, she had rolled away and stomped from the room. She'd seen every hour pass from the clock on the desk. From midnight to four, she'd laid awake, praying that Conner would come and comfort her. She wanted to talk, to understand. But the fusion of pride, anger, hurt, which twisted her insides like a pretzel, kept her away from him. Finally, she'd fallen into a restless sleep that was crammed with images of Conner and Pilar, and their son.

She pushed herself from the couch and moaned at the stiffness in her legs. As she massaged her thighs, she listened to the quiet of the house, absent the normal morning sounds. It was a blessing that the girls had been away. But now she needed to hear their voices.

She picked up the phone and dialed her mother's number. “Hi, Mom,” she said after a groggy Lily said hello.

“Honey, what's wrong?”

Grace tried to grin, hoping that would keep the tears from her voice. “Nothing. I just called to check on the girls.”

“It's so early.”

Grace glanced at the clock and almost cursed. It wasn't even six. “I'm sorry. I have an early meeting.”

“The girls are fine. Still asleep.” She paused. “Grace, what's wrong?”

Her mother sounded alert now. Grace could imagine her sitting up, her head tied in one of the hot-purple silk wraps Starlight had given her. Her eyes thinned and filled with concern, trying to figure out what she heard in her daughter's voice.

“Mom, I'm fine. Listen, I'll call you later. Maybe the girls can spend another night with you.”

“That would be fine with me.”

“Thanks. I'll call later.” She hung up before Lily could ask another question. She exhaled. That was over. Now she had to get past Conner.

She opened the door and listened for sounds from their bedroom. When she heard nothing, she tiptoed to the bathroom the girls shared, pulling a towel from the linen closet on the way. Inside the shower, the heat of the water soothed the fatigue that seeped through her bones. But nothing blocked the questions that fired through her mind.

She wanted to stay in the shower, away from the world. But soon Conner would awaken and come looking for her. This morning, she did not want to be found.

She crept into their bedroom and stood at the door until she was sure he was still asleep. Inside her closet, she slipped quickly into jeans and a matching jacket. She grabbed her briefcase and rushed down the stairs. In the kitchen, she paused. She needed coffee, but the aroma would be a ringing alarm for Conner. Instead, she got into her car. It wasn't even seven o'clock.

A few minutes later, she pulled into the Starbucks parking lot. After ordering a venti espresso, she returned to her car. She sipped the drink, shrinking a bit at the taste.

What am I supposed to do? she wondered. She wanted to answer that question, but too many other thoughts swirled inside her. What would Conner's revelation mean for her and her family? Did Conner want a relationship with the boy? What did Pilar want? And how could they be sure that she was telling the truth?

It was all too much.

Grace turned on the ignition. She'd drown in these thoughts if she let them continue. They'd invaded too much of her space already. Within ten minutes, she was at the office, and by the time Zoë walked in at nine, Grace had buried herself in work.

“What are you doing here?” Zoë asked.

Grace kept her eyes on the computer screen as her fingers danced across the keyboard. “I wanted to get an early start on my education proposal for the mayor,” she said. She stopped and pulled three pages from the printer. “And I just finished the application for the school prayer hearings.”

Zoë looked at her watch. “Grace, you were due at city hall at nine. The committee review meeting is this morning.”

“I forgot,” Grace exclaimed. “I can't miss that. I'll go right now.” She wondered why Zoë frowned when she stood. Then Grace remembered and looked down at her jeans. “I can't go like this.” She sighed. “I can't believe I'm going to miss this. I want to be on the Education Committee, and this isn't going to look good.”

“Just go the way you are.” When Grace began to shake her head, Zoë continued, “Look, you're new, you're bringing different ideas to city hall. Why not go like a young, hip representative?”

Grace laughed. “Because I'm not young and hip.”

“That's a minor technicality.” Zoë put her hand on her hips. “What would you prefer? To show up dressed like that or not go at all? It's not as if you're making a presentation. You're just going to listen to the mayor, schmooze a little, and make sure that you're assigned to that Education Committee.”

Grace looked at Zoë, then looked down at her jeans again. “Okay. Give me a minute to freshen up.”

Zoë raised her thumb in the air. “I'll call Frank so you won't have to deal with the traffic.”

Grace waited until Zoë closed the door before she sank into her chair. How could she have forgotten about this meeting? She'd been looking forward to it since it was announced at the reception last week. She pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes. For a few hours, she'd been able to escape the thoughts of home. But it was all still there, right at the front of her mind.

Grace stood, grabbed her briefcase, and headed toward the door. She couldn't spend her day drowning in Conner's revelation. Not now, since she was sure her husband's admission would be dominating their lives for many days to come.

Chandler high-fived Conner the moment they stepped into the elevator. “Man, you were on fire.”

Conner smiled. His presentation to Crosby Enterprises had been one of his best. The final preparation this morning had been a welcome respite, keeping his mind buried in business.

“What got into you?”

“You know me. The best way to handle challenges is to give it to God, then jump into work.”

Chandler's smile disappeared. “I was waiting for you to bring it up.”

Conner knew Chandler would never mention Pilar first. Not until he told Chandler that he was ready to talk—either aloud or by transmitted thought. Newspapers reported it, and talk show hosts spoke of it, but he lived it. Chandler knew him as if he was inside his mind.

“Any new developments?” Chandler asked as they stepped from the elevator.

The building's security guard lowered his eyes, then did a double-take, realizing he was seeing twins. He nodded as the brothers passed.

“Quite a few.” Conner handed his parking ticket to the valet, and Chandler did the same.

Chandler waited until they were standing alone. “You told Grace?”

“Most of it. Last night.”

“How'd it go?”

Conner glanced at his brother sideways. “Imagine the worse scenario, then multiply it by infinity. She didn't scream, she didn't cry. She just looked at me as if she'd stepped in something.” He stopped, remembering the way Grace had stared straight through his bones. He shivered and wondered for the first time what he hadn't dared. Would Grace leave him?

“She's in shock, that's all,” Chandler reassured, as if he was answering the silent question Conner had just asked himself.

“But there's more.” He paused. “I saw Solomon.”

“What? When?”

Conner told Chandler about the meeting in the park. “Pilar never introduced me, but, Chandler, it was amazing seeing him. Being that close to him.”

“I can't even imagine.”

“And,” Conner paused and tried not to smile, “he looks just like us.”

Chandler nodded slightly. “So what are you going to do?”

“I don't have it all worked out yet. I need to talk to Grace. But I'm going to do the right thing.”

Chandler patted his brother on his shoulder. “Let me know what you want me to do.”

Conner's Suburban came first. He tossed his briefcase onto the passenger seat and turned to his brother. “Going back to the office?”

Chandler shook his head. “Devry and I have a doctor's appointment.” He grinned, then turned sober.

Conner knew what Chandler was thinking. There was a chance both were going to be new fathers.

“Hey, Conner,” Chandler said, as he opened his Mercedes door. “Just know, bro, this is going to work out. The Lord will see to that.”

Conner handed the valet a ten-dollar bill and signaled for him to keep the change. He fastened his seat belt, attached his cell phone to the in-car speaker, and pulled away from the curb. Chandler's words played in his head, and he prayed that his brother was right: it would work out. He just had to keep believing … he had to keep believing in himself and Grace.

Grace pressed the Talk button on her cell phone without looking up from the report on her lap.

“Sweetheart, it's me.”

Grace tightened at his voice.

“What is it, Conner?”

“We need to talk.”

“Not now.”

“Are you in a meeting?”

“No, I'm in the car.” She pressed the button on the side panel, closing the privacy window. “I just left city hall. I almost missed a very important meeting this morning.” She didn't add the most important words that she wanted to say: because of you.

“I'm sorry. Is everything okay?”

She paused. “No, Conner. Nothing's okay, and I doubt if anything will ever be okay again.”

“I promise, Grace, we'll be fine.”

“How can you make that promise?”

“Because I know how you feel and …”

“No, you don't.”

He exhaled. “You're right. But remember, this is as much a surprise for me as it's been for you.” When she remained silent, he said, “We really need to talk more.”

She pressed her lips together, imagining what he wanted to discuss. How he would tell her that he wanted a relationship with his son. That thought brought her repressed tears to the front. Her husband had a son. Pilar had given him that gift—the one thing she had not been able to do.

“Grace …”

She said, “Conner, this is your problem.”

A thin breath of air escaped through his lips. “I wish it were like that, Grace. I wish I could handle this and not get you or the girls involved.”

Her heart stood still. “My daughters are not involved. Don't you dare say anything to them.”

“I won't, not until we're both ready. But this affects our whole family.” He paused, searching for his next words. “I can't walk away from this, Grace. I tried to, but I can't. That isn't in my makeup. That's not the man you married.”

The man I married wouldn't have me in this place!
she shouted inside. She blinked to keep the tears from falling. “What do you want from me?”

“I want you with me, Grace. We can get through this. We have danced through our storms …” He stopped.

She held her hand over her heart, remembering when he'd first uttered those words. They were part of his pledge when they renewed their vows. Through the years, he repeated them, reminding her they could conquer any challenge.

He continued, “And because Pilar won't go away.”

Her face tightened as he brought her back to her point of pain.

“Solomon won't go away either.”

She covered her mouth, holding back her gasp when he said his son's name.

Solomon.

She hadn't asked. She didn't want a name for the faceless image that had filled her mind in the last hours.

“Grace, if there was anything I could do to take this away, I would.”