Cutting Loose (30 page)

“Actually, she’s never even mentioned my
father once, at least with characteristics and such. She never wants to talk
about him, as if he never existed.”

Sean frowned. “Really? She told me that
she’s told you about your father and only left out the details of why they
divorced. Did she?”

“No. She never told me anything except
how they met and dated in high school. What has she told you?”

“Honestly, I want to tell you but I
don’t think it’s in my place to tell you. I think she should be the one to tell
you.”

“I understand,” said Sabrina. “It looks
like me and my mother is going to need to sit down and talk.”

He bent down, kissed her on the forehead
and said, “Be easy on her, okay?”

Sabrina smiled. “I’ll try.”

She was going to try all right. After
all these years of hiding her father’s identity in the dark, it was time she
finally got the answer to so many questions she had been suppressing so long.
Her mother was no saint and she had no right to hide her child’s past from her.
There was no way she could justify her actions. At least not in Sabrina’s eyes.

She brought herself from her thoughts to
reality, and went back to work on reconstructing the magazine. She could tell
it was going to take more than a miracle to get the magazine where it was
supposed to be and at one point or another felt so overwhelmed she wanted to
quit. Until he called.

Chapter Twenty-Six:

Breaking Point

Despite all that had gone all day,
Sabrina thought of all people, that Brett would be the one to brighten up her
day. She was wrong. Dead wrong. When she picked up the phone she was excited
until they started talking about nothing in particular, then they it went quiet
and they were listening to each other breathe, which was creepy and boring as
hell. Sabrina had to come up with a quick lie just to get off the phone with
him. It was so sad. Just sad.

By the time she realized what time it
was, she was nearly exhausted and sleep-deprived, even her strong coffee didn’t
do her justice in providing a nice boost of energy. By the time she reached her
house it was a little past one in the morning. That had to be a record in her
book and she was sure now that she had her new title, she would be seeing
plenty more of those days to come.

By the time her head hit the pillow she
was already in sleep mode. She had a nice, peaceful dream that didn’t involve
her or Larissa bleeding to death or anything gory.

The next couple of days at work were
grueling and tough, seeming almost impossible to make it through without
contemplating giving up. It was all so much riding still on the fact that they
hadn’t been able to recover anything and was starting from scratch.

So she took a quick break and stepped
away from her computer just to collect her thoughts and avoid slamming her head
against the keyboard like she wanted to do.

“Sabrina, honey, I need to talk to you.”

 Sabrina whirled around to find her
mother Dorothy dressed sophisticated as usual. She rarely ever came to the
office unless there was an occasion where she had to be there.

“Mom, what are you doing here?” Sabrina
asked, nearly startled.

Dorothy sat down in a leather chair in
front of Sabrina’s desk and said. “Rina, I’m afraid I have some things that I
have been keeping form you for a long time. I think now is a good time to start
explaining some things.”

Sabrina sat down as well. She could tell
by the look on her mother’s face that she had something on her mind.

“What is it?” asked Sabrina.

Dorothy entwined her fingers and said,
“Sabrina, you know that I love you and would never do anything to hurt you.
Right, honey?”

“Yes, I know that.”

 Her mother was up to something. She had
to be.

Dorothy looked at Sabrina and said, “I’ve
always wanted to tell you who your biological father is but I was afraid of
what the consequences would be and figured it was better if I never told you. I
wanted to protect you.” She sighed and continued, “Back when I was in school,
it wasn’t easy to date, especially in my family, with my mother and her strict
rules. I had a boyfriend that she didn’t know about and one day I got fed up
when he cheated on me with my best friend and as a result, I decided I was
going to do the same. Except when I cheated, it was with a guy named Erik, whom
I had no business being interested in and nearly cost me my life.” She dabbed
at her eyes with a handkerchief she pulled from her purse.

Sabrina looked her mother straight in
the eyes. “Just what are you saying?”

Dorothy began to weep as she said, “Erik
was white, and we started seeing each other on the low until he proposed to me
and my mother let us get married and…”

Sabrina stared at her. “So, you’re
telling me that my father is white. Is that it?”

“Yes, Sabrina.”

“And what happened? Why did he leave?”

“He left because…because I didn’t want
to be labeled as an outcast. I had a future to think about and it was a mistake
to have gotten married. I was young and foolish. I’m sorry I’ve kept this from
you.”

“All this time,” Sabrina said more to
herself than to her mother. “All this time,” she repeated, her voice rising.

“You have to understand I was only
trying to protect you. I did what I thought was best.”

“You mean what was best for you.”

“What?”

Sabrina’s eyes narrowed and for a moment
she wanted to say something, something she had wanted to say for years but
never had the guts to. Until now.

“You thought you were doing what was
best for you. Just like you claimed you did when you made me have that abortion
and as a result, thanks to you I can’t have kids.”

Dorothy looked dumbfounded. “How dare
you blame that on me? If you hadn’t gotten knocked up in the first place that
wouldn’t have had to happen.”

“Right,” said Sabrina, with a slight
hint of sarcasm in her voice. “Like mother like daughter, huh?”

Dorothy rose to her feet. “Listen to me,
Sabrina. I had to make some very hard choices in my lifetime. Yes, I may have
gotten rid of your father but look what I did for us; I got you a rich father
figure, put you in the best schools, and lived in the best neighborhoods. Do
you think I had that growing up? Hell no! My mother treated me like shit! We
were dirt poor with nothing but problems. So forgive me for breaking the damn
cycle.”

Sabrina considered her mother’s words.
“Like I said, you did all that for you. If you were so concerned about me
growing up well, why come you never ever mentioned my father? Not even a
picture or description of the man.”

Dorothy laughed. “I’ll tell you why I
never mentioned Erik. He moved on with his life after we got our quickie
divorce. He might have come by to visit you every once in a while but I didn’t
want him around. Plus, he had his own family to worry about.”

“And not once did it cross your mind
that maybe, just maybe he deserved to see his daughter, to know that she was
okay?”

“It did. He sent birthday cards every
year but I wanted to keep the distance so I hid them from you.”

Sabrina didn’t know what she wanted to
do; slap the shit out of her mother or keep her cool and let her finish what
she had to say. Either way she was still going to be pissed at her no matter
which option she chose. And her mother—some mother she thought she was to keep
something away from her for so long.

Sabrina sighed. “You should be ashamed
of yourself, Mom. After all these years you wait until now to drop this on me.
Why?”

Dorothy waited a beat. “He tracked me
down a few weeks ago asking about you. Then I saw you on the news and in the
magazine with that guy you’ve been seeing and I couldn’t help but remember when
I dated your father and how different times were back then. He’s been trying to
meet you for a while now. At least while he was still alive.”

Sabrina felt her heart drop. “What are
you saying exactly?”

“Your father died last week.” She
reached into her purse and pulled out an envelope and handed a stack of
pictures to Sabrina. “Those are some pictures of him in his younger days and a
couple of his recent pictures.”

Sabrina tossed the pictures onto her
desk and said, “Please leave my office.”

“Sabrina, please. Don’t be like this.”

“I said get out!” Sabrina snapped as she
moved to the door and held it open. “Just go.”

 She sniffled. “I’m so sorry.”

Once her tears dropped onto the picture,
it dawned on her that any chance of getting to know her biological father was
obsolete and she had to face facts. Her mother was a manipulative bitch who
always got what she wanted, always got her way no matter what. And now thanks
to her selfishness, Sabrina was staring at what remained of a piece of the
puzzle that was her identity. Just like she had always known; it was finally
realized that she had a white father. It wasn’t a surprise, considering how
light her skin was and the fact that she looked somewhat like her mother but
some characteristics didn’t carry over to her.

Sabrina was definitely not selfish like
her mother. She was the opposite and like helping people. She didn’t deceive
people for self-gain nor did she think it was okay to keep things hidden for so
long. Or did she?

She looked closely at a picture of a young
version of her father looking to be in his late teens with a smile on his face.
He was tall and had light brown eyes, a sharp nose and dark hair; she was
pretty sure he didn’t have any trouble finding a date with his good looks.

Sabrina sat there for the longest and
cried for all the birthdays, all the holidays and all the things she would
never get back, things she never got to do with him. She prayed that one day
she could forgive her mother for keeping them apart and lying to her face for
so many years and waiting until the last minute to try and redeem herself for
what she had done.

 One day she might. But that day was not
about to come anytime soon.

After crying her eyes out forever it
seemed, she had to get away from the office and raced to her house and drowned
her sorrows in a bottle of wine.

She was mellowed out for a while. But it
was only a matter of time before it came up and started messing with her again.
She was sure of it.

So when Brett offered to buy her
groceries and cook for her she should have been happy. But she wasn’t. While
shopping something on the magazine rack caught her eye and she saw a caption on
a magazine cover about a white woman who had been put on trial for killing her
three children in the bathtub of their home and pleaded to temporary insanity,
only to get off with fifteen years in prison with parole.

She exhaled and kept on walking.

Brett sensed her body language changed
and asked, “You seem a little tense.”

“I’m fine,” Sabrina said, pulling
something off the shelf and tossing it into the shopping cart. “I was just
thinking that some of y’all white people get away with too much. And just to
think, I’m related to one.” She laughed dryly.

“Please, Sabrina, not now.”

“What? Is talking about race bothering
you?”

“No, I just don’t feel like talking
about it.” He pushed the cart further and added, “I’ve had a long, draining day
and I just need to relax or something. I know you’ve had a long day but you’re
not the only one.”

“Okay but answer this, do you really
expect us to be in a relationship together and not talk about it?”

“We do. Now is not a good time.”

She followed him over to the next aisle.

“So, when? When is a good time for you?
When we’re behind closed doors, out of public?”

“I didn’t mean it like that. I don’t
feel comfortable talking about it period.”

“That’s because you don’t need a
reminder every day that you’re white; the only time you do know that is when
you’re in a room with black people. Every day I have to deal with white people
and they remind me every day that I’m black. So you want me to just keep that
to myself and not talk to you about it? Do you see how people look at us when
we’re together, like we’re some kind of circus freaks?”

“I understand what you’re saying but
you’re talking about frustrations you create for yourself; you work at a
magazine with a clientele of rich white women, you live in a gated community in
a home that you own and you make what, seven figures, which is way more than
what I make. So let’s talk because I’m all ears.”

“No, see, you don’t want to talk about
how when I’m standing in front of a bunch of white men how they look at me like
I’m the damn secretary and every time they found out I’m in charge of shit,
they want to go with someone else, someone who isn’t black. Do you see how
insulting and fucked up that is?”

“Yes, I do. You have to be able to move
past that.”