Truth Be Told (12 page)

“I'll see you at home.” She clicked off her phone and leaned back in her seat. How was she supposed to handle this? How was she supposed to keep her family together? How was she supposed to protect her daughters?

She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. Conner was right. This had to be handled, but it didn't have to be disruptive. Conner didn't sound as if he wanted a relationship with the child, though the thought made her heart sink. She wished the boy could know his father, but she couldn't feel bad when she had her own girls to think about.

But he's a child.

She crushed that screaming thought. She couldn't care about anyone who could rip her family apart.

But he's a child—your husband's son.

Grace shook her head. This sin had to stay buried deep in their family closet.

But he's a child—one of God's own.

They would provide financial support, but her care could go no further.

A calm comfort came with this new determination. Her family would get through this. They would lean on the Lord, as they always did. Their prayers would guide them. She thought about what Pastor Ford always said—how standing on God's word brought peace.

“Learn to quote God's word back to Him,” Pastor Ford had said dozens of times. “Know scripture—not to memorize for the sake of knowing, but memorizing for the sake of life. God's words will protect and lead you through any human thunderstorms.”

Grace leaned back, settling in the softness of the seat, and closed her eyes as Frank inched the car forward on the 10 Freeway. There was no better time to put into practice what Pastor Ford taught.

I will call upon the Lord who is worthy to be praised: so shall I be saved from my enemies.

Her eyes popped open as Psalm 18:3 passed through her mind. Why would she think about enemies? She shook her head. No, she wouldn't think about the end of that scripture. She'd focus on the beginning. She would call on the Lord, again and again, until this all went away.

T
he long beep of the fax machine alerted Starlight. She pulled the last page from the machine, then put them all in order. Though she had read each page as it was transmitted, she settled onto the couch and pulled her feet underneath her.

She felt as if she were having an out-of-body experience as she read the contract. She knew it by heart; she'd negotiated for weeks, letting Forge Publishing feel the unspoken threat—that there were other publishers eager to please her.

It worked. Forge had offered Starlight a blockbuster deal, all without an agent. She chuckled. No one could have brokered a better deal, and she didn't have to pay the agent's fifteen percent.

Two books, three million dollars, with escalators that could take the total to almost four million. Five hundred thousand for just signing. For thirty minutes, she relished every word on each page.

Finally, she stood and laid the contract on the desk. She stared at the first page, at the line that showed the amount of the agreement. She counted the zeros and laughed.

Lily Hobbs-Richards's daughters had done well. Grace had always excelled. Even with her troubles, she emerged shining brighter than the stars. But Starlight knew there was no star in the universe more radiant than hers right now.

“Miss Starlight, what would you like for dinner?”

Starlight whipped around. “You startled me.”

Carletta lowered her eyes and almost bowed. “I'm sorry.”

Starlight held up her hands. “I'm not hungry.” Then she said, “I do want something. Run and get me … Thai. You know that restaurant on Olympic?”

Carletta frowned, and Starlight imagined what her housekeeper was thinking:
That was so far away
. Starlight smiled. That was the point.

She pulled bills from her wallet, and then walked to where Carletta waited in the hallway—following the instructions given on her first day—never to enter Starlight's office. She handed the woman three twenty-dollar bills.

“What would you like?”

Starlight waved her hand. “Anything.”

“Do you have a menu? I can call.”

“No,” Starlight snapped. “Order it when you get there. I want it warm when you bring it back.” Starlight held her breath as she listened to Carletta go to her room for a sweater, then leave.

In the Friday evening traffic, it would take the housekeeper at least twenty minutes to get to the restaurant, twenty minutes to wait for the food, and another twenty minutes to return. If luck was on her side, Carletta's 1981 Mitsubishi might have a little trouble too.

Now she'd be able to savor the sensation of success without Carletta lurking. Starlight placed the contract inside a folder, then dropped it into the file cabinet. She locked the case and returned the key to her pocket. No one had access to her most personal papers.

As she moved from the office to the living room, her bare feet made light imprints in the custom-dyed lavender carpet that perfectly matched the walls, creating a continuous sea of soft purple. Tranquility shrouded her when she stepped into this space, with its hues of royalty and ocean views that still made her gasp. The oversized room had been created when she knocked out an adjoining wall, making the area massive. Though the room could hold a football field, its sparseness was surprising. Two custom-designed twelve-foot couches (one shade deeper than the carpet) sat in the middle facing each other, but most of the seating was designated to overstuffed velvet pillows. She wanted people to sit on the floor, supporting her philosophy that the closer you were to the earth, the closer you were to self.

Starlight dragged one of the pillows to the window. Then she sank into its softness. Even on the floor, she could see the ocean through the balcony's glass casing. She sighed. But her sigh wasn't one of joy. There was no one to share her success with. That thought often brought her to tears.

Starlight reflected on the time she spent with Grace last week. Though they wouldn't yet win any Sister of the Year awards, it was as warm as Grace had been in years. Maybe they would call a truce, and Starlight could once again be an aunt. She wanted to share this with her family. Especially Jayde. Though she loved Amber, she didn't know her. Amber was an infant when Mabel became Starlight, a false prophet in Grace's eyes. It was then that she was unofficially banned from the Monroes' life.

But she had a feeling that life was going to change. Now she would have family and fame.

The click of the door's lock made Starlight rise. How could Carletta have returned so soon? She should have sent her farther south.

“Starlight.”

“I'm in the Grande Room,” she yelled.

A moment later, Lexington appeared, his face filled with a smile. “You look happy.” He hugged her, then grazed her cheeks with his lips.

As he stepped away, she pulled him close and kissed him, nudging her tongue between his lips. He leaned back, surprise incised in every line on his face. Starlight returned her lips to his, and pressed her body against him. Moments later, she took his hand and led him from the room.

“Where's Carletta?” His voice was husky.

“She went to get food.”

“You're hungry?”

At her bedroom door, Starlight answered his question with another kiss. The feast from the East would have to wait. She hungered for something else now. She needed to celebrate her wonderful life.

T
he moment Grace opened the door, the aroma greeted her with the gentleness of a lover's hug. She stepped inside and paused at the bottom of the stairs.

“Daddy, can I have another taste?”

“You just tasted it, Amber.” Jayde's annoyed tone floated into the hallway.

“Daddy, tell Jayde to mind her business.”

Grace almost smiled as she listened to the sounds of her family, but reality would not allow her joy. She turned from the noises of normalcy and climbed the stairs, not wanting to disrupt.

She was glad when she heard Conner's voice mail message saying he was picking up the girls. Although it hadn't been planned, Jayde and Amber had spent the entire week with Lily. So many times Grace had wanted to bring her daughters home, needing to feel what was usual. But when Jayde had called and asked if they could spend extra days, Grace knew it was a blessing from God, although she suspected that Amber had been bribed with ice cream and Jayde was just pleased that her grandmother was free to drive her from activity to activity during this school-free week.

It had worked for them all. Even she and Conner had been able to hang onto the edges of peace.

On Tuesday, when she said, “I don't want to talk about this right now, Conner,” he'd left her alone in the office.

“Give me some more time, Conner,” was what she said on Wednesday.

Last night, she'd jumped into bed the moment she heard the garage door open and pretended to be asleep when Conner came into the bedroom.

But Grace knew that this reprieve was coming to an end. She'd have to face Conner soon. Face him and discussions about his son.

She didn't make a sound as she closed her bedroom door. She couldn't wait to hug her daughters, but she needed some time before she greeted them. Before she faced them knowing that their father wasn't their's alone. She shrugged her jacket from her shoulders and smiled when she heard a knock on the door.

“Come in.” She wondered which child had discovered that she was home. She froze when Conner entered.

“I thought I heard you.” He hesitated, brushed his lips across her cheek, then stuffed his hands into his jeans. “I cooked.” His smile was unsure.

“Thank you,” she said. Then, “Excuse me,” as she stepped by, careful not to touch him as she went to her closet. In the dark, she hung her jacket, but remained inside the chamber.

“Honey, are you coming down?” Conner stood outside the closet, watching her.

“Give me a few minutes.”

She could feel his gaze before he turned away.

When she was alone, Grace slumped onto the bed and leaned against the headboard. She pulled her knees to her chest, letting her chin rest on her legs. She was sure she had made peace with this. But every time she saw Conner, she saw Pilar in her mind's eye.

“I can't do this.” She pounded her fist against the mattress and almost jumped when she looked up and saw Conner standing in the doorway.

His eyes were a mirror to her heart, reflecting her sadness.

Grace stood. “I'm coming now.” She wiped her face, tugged at her shirt, and walked toward the door. She paused, waiting for Conner to step aside. When he stayed in place, she brushed past him.

With just the tips of his fingers, he reached for her arm. “We can do this, Grace,” he whispered. “Together.”

She pulled from his grasp with more force than she expected and swept through the hall. At the bottom of the stairs, she took a breath before stepping into the kitchen. “Hello, ladies.” On the outside, she smiled as she kissed Amber, then Jayde. “I missed you guys. How are my girls?”

“Fine, Mommy. I missed you too.” Amber lifted the paper in front of her. “Do you want to see what I worked on at Nana's?

“Sure.” Grace scanned the numbers that Amber had scrawled.

“Mommy, listen to this.” Amber took a deep breath. “One times one is one … one times two is two … one times three is …”

“Do I have to hear this again?” Jayde whined.

Grace ignored her oldest daughter. “Amber, this is good.”

“That's what I told her,” Conner said as he entered the room.

Grace kept her eyes on her children. “Jayde, what did you do at your grandmother's house?”

“I hung out with Brittany most of the time, and I worked a little on my paper that's due when I go back to school on Monday. But we don't even get a break. Mr. Berg already assigned our next project.” She sighed as if she carried a burden equal to the world's weight.

“What's next?” Grace asked.

“We have to write about Christian heroes—one living and one dead—and then compare their lives.” Jayde smiled, the load now somehow lifted. “The living one is easy. That's you, Dad.”

Grace felt Conner's smile even before he came to the table and kissed the top of Jayde's head.

“Thank you, honey.”

“You're my hero, too, Daddy,” Amber chirped.

Conner chuckled, Jayde rolled her eyes, and Grace was sure that she'd be ill.

“I'll help you finish your paper,” Grace said, returning their attention to Jayde.

“You don't have to, Mom. I'm really done. I just want to go over it to make sure I'll get an A.”

Conner put his arm around Jayde's shoulders. “Can my beautiful, straight A daughter set the dining room table?”

Jayde frowned. “Why are we eating in there? It's not Sunday.”

Conner looked at Grace. “I thought we should have a family dinner tonight.”

“But it's only spaghetti, and there's no TV in there,” Jayde said.

Conner's glance didn't leave his wife. “That's why we're eating in the dining room.” He paused when Grace looked at him. “We're going to sit and talk together.”

“Why can't we do that in here?” Jayde pouted.

“Jayde, set the table, please,” Conner said.

Grace broke their stare and turned to Amber. “I'll take these papers so they don't get messed up. Go wash up, okay?”

Amber ran from the kitchen, and Jayde, still sulking, filled her arms with plates.

When they were alone, Grace watched Conner as he pulled a tray of garlic bread from the oven. She folded her arms. “Is there anything you want me to do?”

He dropped the tray onto the counter. Then he lifted her chin with two fingers. “I want you to remember that I love you.”

She looked at him for a moment, then turned into the dining room.

Minutes later, the clatter of silverware clanging against the plates filled the room. Grace sliced the bread before they sat and bowed their heads.

“Heavenly Father, we thank you for this food, but most important, we thank and praise you for this family. Thank you for keeping us and for the blessings that you've given us. We are grateful, Lord, for your grace and mercy. And for your hand in every part of our lives. We know that we can do nothing without you. As you said in your word,
for with God all things are possible
.” He paused. “So, Lord, we know that whatever fires come our way, we will not be burned. Thank you for protecting us. In Jesus's name, Amen.”

“Wow,” Jayde said. “That wasn't grace; that was a prayer.”

“What's wrong with that?” Conner twirled the pasta around his fork.

“Prayers are for bedtime,” Amber piped in.

Conner looked across the table at Grace. “Prayers are for whenever you need them.”

Grace lowered her eyes and took a small bite of bread. She was relieved when Amber began chatting about the upcoming class trip to the L.A. Zoo and she was able to retreat into her thoughts. Jayde and Amber didn't notice her silence, although every few minutes, she felt Conner's gaze.

She looked at her husband with their children, and her heart ached. There was another life, existing parallel to theirs, that could rip their world apart. She lowered her head as tears threatened.

“In history, Mrs. Jaffe said we're going to develop our family trees.”

Grace's head snapped up.

Jayde continued, “She wants us to do it using the Internet. Will you help me, Daddy?”

Conner nodded, then looked at Grace.

“I could probably use the one I did in the second grade,” Jayde said.

Grace stood.

“I would only have to add you.” Jayde laughed and pointed to her sister. “We didn't even know about you then.”

Grace lifted her plate and turned toward the kitchen.

“Finished, honey?”

Her glare was strong when she whipped around. They all froze under her stare. “Yes, Conner,” she said, though her lips didn't seem to move. “I'm totally finished.”

In the kitchen, Grace leaned against the counter, taking deep breaths to control the bile rising inside. Gently, she placed her plate on the table, even though she wanted to return to the dining room and throw every dish she had at Conner's head.

She sat and listened to her family's chatter.

“I'll help you, Jayde,” Conner said. “And Amber can help too. I want you both to know everything about your family.”

Her anger seethed, pushing her to the edge of a rampage.

“Daddy, I want my own family tree,” Amber said.

“Okay. We'll do one for you and one for Jayde and one for …”

Grace held her breath.

“… your mother and me.”

Grace stood and ran up the stairs, needing to escape this lunacy before she released the fluid inside that she had worked so hard to keep down.

Grace cracked open the bedroom door, and Conner looked up.

“Are the girls settled in?”

She nodded. “Jayde's reading.” Grace glanced at the floor, then turned back to the door.

“Grace, wait. Please don't leave.” His words came quick. “I know you're hurt, and I'm sorry. But we can work through this.” He paused. “Just like we did before.”

His words made her grip the doorknob. “You're not comparing …”

“No.” He sighed. “I just want to move forward.”

She heard his weariness and, against her will, faced him. He wanted to move forward. She wanted to go back to where they'd been before Pilar had twisted their lives with this news.

She moved from the door to her side of the bed. “I don't know what to do.”

“I don't have any answers either,” he said from the other side of the bed. “But we have to try.”

“Maybe we should talk to Pastor Ford.” There was hope in her voice.

He nodded. “That would be good.” With his eyes still focused on her, he moved around the bed, removing the barrier between them. When he stood by her side, he took her hand. “There is something else that I have to tell you.”

She lowered herself onto the bed.

Conner knelt beside her. “I love you, Grace.”

Grace tried to swallow the hardness in her throat. She had a feeling that only pain followed those words. But she held onto his hand, sure that nothing could be worse than what she already knew.

“I don't know how to tell you this.” He sounded sadder than when he'd first delivered this news.

“How can there be more, Conner?” she asked, though she could feel it—more grief just moments away.

He closed his eyes, as if searching inside for the words he needed.

“Pilar had no intentions of telling me about Solomon.”

Grace focused on breathing.

“She came to me when she found out … Pilar … has AIDS. She doesn't … the doctors don't give her much time.”

At first, his words pinned her to the bed. A moment later, she jumped up. “What does that mean?” The question shook from her. She knew his most important words had not been said.

Conner half-closed his eyes. “She has less than a year….”

Grace shook her head. “No, Conner.”

“I wish there was something else I could do.”

The emotions that she'd held exploded like bombs in a minefield. “Conner, I have tried to understand.”

“I know.” He held up his hands as if that would hold back her flaring anger.

“I thought I could grit my way through, even though fathering this child is a thousand times worse than anything I've ever done,” she yelled.

He looked toward their closed bedroom door. “You can't keep score, Grace,” he whispered, hoping that if he lowered his voice, she would do the same.

But his efforts spurred her on. “I think I can. How can you tell me that you want to bring this child into our home?” she asked, stating what he had not yet said.

“Grace, we don't have a choice. The boy is losing his mother.” He paused. “And I'm his father. We have to step in.”