A Love So Deep (25 page)

“I mean that. And enjoy your afternoon.”

Goodbye hugs were passed among the group. Reverend Fields went one way, and Elroy and Martha exited through a side door admonishing Graham to visit soon. Now, Graham was free to leave—possibly too late to catch Charlie. They needed to talk, and today would be a good day if only Graham could catch up with him.

Graham passed through the doors of the sanctuary into the vestibule when he spotted Liz standing off to the side. She looked like a model in the midst of a photo shoot surrounded by church ministerial pamphlets and leaflets scattered on sofa tables strategically placed throughout the room. Liz watched Graham whiz through—moving fast like he had somewhere to go. Liz rushed forward stretching out her arms to embrace her daddy, her children at her side.

“Daddy,” Liz called out in a voice barely above a whisper.

“Granddaddy,” Elise and Riley, Jr. said in unison.

Graham hesitated, then opened his own arms wide. “How are my babies?” Tears welled up in Graham as he encircled his daughter and grandchildren in his arms.

They stood that way for nearly three minutes—one large umbrella protecting the family from the elements. All that could be heard was soft sobs coming from the huddled group.

“I love you, Daddy. Please forgive me.”

Graham tried to speak but was restricted from parting his lips because Liz’s taut finger was placed against them.

“I’ve neglected you, alienated you from your grandchildren. You’ve been a wonderful father, and I don’t have a right to impede your happiness.”

Liz took her dad’s face between her hands and kissed him on both cheeks. Graham felt the warmth of Liz’s affection and in someway felt exonerated. Now tears of joy fell freely from his eyes.

“We love you, too, Granddad,” Elise said, hugging her granddad harder than the rest. She was her grandfather’s favorite.

The sweet words of a child—music to Graham’s ears. “I love you, too, babies. Maybe we can take in a baseball game.”

“Yeah. Did you hear that, Mom?”

“Yes, baby. We’ll have to get together with Granddad this week—if that’s all right with you, Dad.”

Graham looked at his second-born. She looked so much like Amanda. Her innocent, electrifying smile, the shape of her teeth. “Of course it’s all right.”

“Okay, Dad. I’ll call you later in the week. Gotta go. Riley is waiting for me in the car. We have dinner reservations.”

“Yeah, your grandma told me. Have fun. I love you.”

They gave each other a departing kiss and then Liz and the kids were gone. Graham lingered in the vestibule a few minutes longer, overcome by the love he had received.

Caught up in the moment, Graham had completely forgotten about Charlie—that was until he exited the church and nearly fell on top of Charlie and Mary, who were standing at the foot of the church steps. Graham looked from one to the other absently, kicking a small pebble that lay close to his foot. The sight of Mary and Charlie together rendered him speechless.

It was comical, almost downright funny…the two of them locked hand in hand. But it was just yesterday when Graham had lain eyes on the transformed Mary Ross—a revitalized beauty who had risen from the dead. Graham wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. Was this an attempt on Charlie’s part to make him jealous? It was probably the consensus of everyone who knew Mary Ross and had seen her in the past few days that Mary had emerged from her cocoon—a not-so-attractive caterpillar making her entrance into her second life as a beautiful monarch.

Mary wore a sharp, two-piece wool navy suit with bold brass buttons running north to south on the three-quarter-length jacket. Graham’s head moved in the direction of the buttons, pausing momentarily upon her breasts that peeked slightly above the fly-away collar on her jacket. A pair of navy, high-heeled, T-strap Aigners accompanied Mary’s outfit, along with a matching bag that hung from her shoulder. Her face was well-defined—slate-blue shadow dusting her eyelids with a hint of charcoal eyeliner setting the boundary between lid and lash. A brick-red blush highlighted her cheekbones, making it difficult to ignore the sculptured look of her precision haircut. Whatever Charlie’s intentions were, Sister Mary Ross was ready to give him a run for his money.

T
he
wheels of the 727 jet squealed upon hitting the tarmac at Sea-Tac Airport. Droplets of rain tapped the plane’s window—a sign that Rita had indeed arrived in the Pacific Northwest.

Washington State was well known for its long periods of relentless rain backed by a nervous chill that frequently brought out everything from fur-lined boots to full-length mink coats. And the forecast for the week ahead was temperatures well below the fifties, making for a very brisk October.

Rita sat looking out the window, waiting for the plane to taxi to the gate. Her thoughts bounced from Graham to William as she went over the events of the past few days. It weighed heavy on her—heavier than the rain that was once droplets and now a heavy downpour.

“Glad you’re home, baby,” Mavis said. Mavis placed a gentle kiss on her daughter’s cheek. She was well aware what took Rita to Oakland. Mavis tried desperately to talk Rita out of going—wasting her time and money on a no-good ex-husband who had caused her nothing but pain and misery.

It was Mavis and George Duncan who had helped Rita pick up the pieces, although Rita was much stronger than they had given credit. They had nursed her through the pain of break-up and humiliation.

Rita was a survivor, and she rose from the ashes—never looking back. She came out of the marriage with a nice settlement that would more than take care of her needs since Rita was not an overly flamboyant person or an excessive spender. But she did have an ache in her heart for William, and while she did not run right away when he called, she knew she’d help him in the end—even at the protest of her parents she loved dearly.

“Glad to be back, Mom. You’re so radiant today.”

Rita looked at Mavis—black streaks running through her silver mane with loose-fitting curls that bounced like a toy Slinky off her shoulders. Rita picked up one and let it fall, the curl recoiling from all of its pent-up body. Mavis wore a black polka-dot-on-crème satin blouse tucked into a pair of straight, black, wool slacks that sculpted her slender frame.

“Did you see him?” Mavis inquired, picking up her coat as they headed for the baggage claim area.

“Yes, Mom. I saw him. He’s aged some…but that’s to be expected since I haven’t seen him in awhile.”

“And that was too soon.”

Ignoring Mavis, Rita continued. “You won’t believe this, but he’s wearing dreads and glasses.”

“I’d like to drag him by those dreads and hang him up somewhere until the crows pick his body.”

“Aw,
Mother
. I know you hate William, but must you talk like that?”

“Maybe you’ve forgotten what he put you through, but your father and I have vivid memories, and I hate him…”

“Hate is a strong word, and I forgive him. He wants me back in his life.”

Mavis stopped in her tracks, not caring that she was blocking traffic in the middle of the hallway. Two other flights had recently landed, and the rush to get baggage and be on their way was evident from the flow of people who moved in the same direction.

“And I know you told him no way, no how.” Mavis was pointing her finger and moving her arm like she was finger painting. “That’s the only answer. Your father and I could not bear to go through what we did when he hurt you before.”

“Mother, stop being so dramatic. You and I both know that he’ll never get the chance to do that again. Remember me telling you about a new man in my life? Well, I love him…he’s the missing link…my gift from God.”

Mavis sighed. “So you’re serious about this boy wonder?”

“Very serious—serious enough that if he asks me to marry him, I’ll accept.”

Mavis gasped. “My Lawd, girl. I had no idea it was
that
serious. Wait until your father hears this.”

“I know it seems hard to fathom since I’ve had no real man in my life all these years—an escort here, an escort there, and some good conversation in between. I was afraid of being hurt because William did such a good job of hurting me.”

“That’s why we didn’t want you to go to Oakland, baby. I figured he’d try to worm his way back into your life with you doing good and all. And you giving him all that money was nothing but an open invitation to do just that.”

“Mom, I’m a grown woman. I can handle William.”

“Please don’t tell me,” Mrs. Duncan cut in, “that he awakened some sleeping giant.” Mavis paused to look at Rita as they continued down the corridor. “Get over it!”

“Mom, you’re not hearing me.”

“I hear you all right, and I hope that alarm that’s going off inside of me is false.”

Rita allowed herself to be amused at her mother’s ramblings. It was good seeing William, but she knew there was no chance for their lives to be entangled again. Rita was truly happy for the first time, and she thanked God for blessing her with a wonderful man like Graham.

“So tell me,” Mavis said, “about this new man in your life.”

“He’s handsome, gentle, kind, loving, thoughtful…”

Mavis feigned a cough. “All right, I get it. But he must possess some other qualities.”

“You never let me finish.” Rita sighed. “He’s a good kisser—lips sweet as honeysuckle.”

“It’s apparent you know those lips well.”

“I do.”

“And…”

“He’s a widower with two adult children.” Rita wasn’t about to tell her mother that one was a witch and the other was tolerable and what they had put her through. “And…he’s sixty-one years old.”

“Sixty-one, mature, and minus the baby-mama-drama syndrome.”

“Mom, you are crazy, and what do you know about ‘baby mama’ anything?”

“Girl, I have lived life. We may have not called it that as I progressed through the years, but I’ve seen enough to know what ‘baby mama drama’ is no matter how old I get.”

They shared a laugh. “Watch your step, Mom,” Rita admonished as she and Mavis rode the escalator to the lower level.

When they reached the bottom, they searched for the turnstile that would bring Rita’s luggage from the belly of the plane. A large crowd had assembled—Mavis and Rita were nearly the last two to arrive. They stood back from the crowd that had already claimed their space along the perimeter of the turnstile—a few pieces of luggage finally emerging.

“Graham lives in Oakland and so does William.”

“Have you told Graham about your ex-husband?”

“Graham is aware of William but unaware that I came to Oakland to meet with him. I just learned William has been in Oakland for some time and has even been to the club where I perform.”

“He’s what? Rita, listen to your wise old mother. You can’t go back there. I know Oakland is one of your favorite places and the people there have certainly been good to you, but with William there and darn near stalking you, you’ll only be asking for trouble. It wouldn’t be fair to Graham.”

“Mom, you’re overreacting, and what do you care about Graham? Anyway, William has never followed me or made contact with me until now.”

“And how long did he plan that? You can’t be too sure, Rita, and I just don’t like it. You need to talk with your father about this, and certainly your new friend, Graham. He needs to know, Rita.”

“I know, Mom. I plan on telling him.”

“When it’s too late?”

“Lower your voice. Everyone is starting to look at us.”

“Who cares? Somebody’s got to talk some sense into that thick head of yours.”

“You act as if William might do something to me.”

“Rita, you’re my only child. Don’t think I’m not aware about all the bruises and black eyes you suffered at that maniac’s hands.”

Rita stiffened. She had guarded that secret well, at least she thought she had. Only one other person knew besides the doctor, and he was the abuser. How could Mavis have found out?

“I believe William has changed.”

“I don’t care how old you get, you have eggshells for brains when it comes to that man. I don’t understand it. Tell me, what’s he doing now?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why did he ask you for all of that money? I say he’s still gambling. I’m right, aren’t I?”

“You might be, but I’m not sure, but you have certainly made your point perfectly clear. There’s one of my pieces; I’ll be right back.”

Well, I’m not going anywhere, because I haven’t finished
. Rita left Mavis tapping her toes against the floor while Rita retrieved her bags from the turnstile. She turned toward her mother with bags in tow and stood and watched the steam rise from her mother’s nostrils. It was right comical and downright cute.

“Rita, hurry up. You’ve got me all riled up now.” Mavis watched Rita shuffle through the crowd with her luggage in hand. “If I had a gun twenty years ago, I’d a popped a few rounds in that arrogant, self-absorbed, jerk back then,” Mavis muttered under her breath.