AFRICAN AMERICAN URBAN FICTION: BWWM ROMANCE: Billionaire Baby Daddy (Billionaire Secret Baby Pregnancy Romance) (Multicultural & Interracial Romance Short Stories) (40 page)

Packing covertly was difficult. Annabelle and Jason’s bedroom was precisely laid out and he’d always had an eye for detail. It was what made her so justifiably cautious in her affair, and kept her from indulging in the usual slip ups with Chris that married lovers occasionally do.

She had to find a bag that he wouldn’t notice was missing, and fill it with just enough clothing that he wouldn’t notice a change in the wardrobe. It was easier than she thought it would be when she realized that most of her clothes soon wouldn’t fit her anyway. But she had to bring a few things, so she reached the furthest back into the closet that she could and ended up with all the oldest of her clothing.

She smiled to herself. What she’d ended up with, quite accidentally, was what Chris would remember her in from their days together, or perhaps from the photos she sent with her letters just after he left.

She was determined she would take only a few things in her wallet. She was taking his reputation. She was taking his heart. She didn’t need to be accused of taking his money as well. She left all the cards to their joint accounts. She’d have no access to their funds, but she didn’t care. She had a small account her mother had opened in her name when she was younger as a savings account that she’d never ended up using. It’d always just been there, not merged into the marital finances. Now that it was happening, Annabelle wondered if it had been
for
this all along. She hadn’t planned anything consciously, but had she meant it? Had some part of her been preparing for this?

A divorce would be messy. She would leave him with everything and take only the clothes she could bring with her, a few keepsakes from a box in a closet that wouldn’t be noticed, and the little money she had solely in her name.

And the ring, she thought to herself. She would have to leave him the ring.

She served dinner to the men, and avoided looking at Chris. She didn’t want to know if he was looking at her.

After dinner the conversation with Jason was spare. They watched television together. They talked about little. Over these past few months they’d grown more and more distant, and she knew he noticed. She wondered, briefly, what would be his first thought when he woke in the morning and found her gone. And then she decided she didn’t want to know.

-------------------------------------

At midnight, Annabelle stood beneath the tree. It wasn’t at all very similar, she realized now. It was only the same kind of tree. They weren’t even really the same size. They were just close enough that it reminded them both of it, and that had been good enough.

The summer had been turning cold, and in the dark of the night Annabelle was chilly, and her faith was waning. Would she be heading back to the house? Had she chosen wrongly? Could she go back to the house?

But then she saw it. There was movement in the darkness. When it drew closer, she saw it was Chris’ rusted truck. He must have coasted it with the clutch down and the engine off all the way down the long sloping drive to avoid detection.

Annabelle smiled. She climbed in when he stopped in front of her. Then Chris started the truck, and they drove wordlessly together out into the night.

THE END

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Chapter 1

Naomi sat quietly outside Faith’s room trying to collect her thoughts. She was soaring on the elation that Faith’s operation had been a success. But the debt that the family had incurred to pay for it, and her father Nathan’s condition, promised to drag her down from the clouds and into the abyss.

The debt shouldn’t be a problem as far as the hospital was concerned. Their father was well respected in the community, and well established. As far as the hospital was concerned, he would pay for Faith’s care. And he would have, had he long enough to live.

Not even Faith knew of his condition. But Naomi did, as did her father himself. She had known since he had first began coughing up blood. He had tried to deny it at first, to hide it. But Naomi was sharp and cunning and he had not been able to hide it from her for long.

When he had first admitted his condition to his daughter, Nathan had had full faith that Naomi could care for the business and what was left of the family. The children’s mother had died in childbirth during the birth of their son, Matthew. Matthew was too young yet to care for the business or the family. But Nathan knew how smart Naomi was. He would leave the family business to her when he died and she could care for her younger sister and brother.

But everything had changed when Faith had fallen ill. The clothing shop did well enough to support them and provide just a little something extra. But there was no way that they could pay for Faith’s medical bills and still stay afloat.

It was a point of contention between Nathan and Naomi. She wanted very much to plan for how to take care of everyone now that the family was in so much debt. But he would not hear of it.

He had been at peace with his death when he had known that he could leave everything to Naomi and that she would be able to care for her brother and sister. But now that they had been saddled with the extra debt of Faith’s illness, everything had changed.

If he hadn’t been dying, it wouldn’t have. He could have continued to run the clothing shop, maybe taken on a little more business, and the money would have been no problem.

But Naomi was a woman. Smart as a whip though she may be, she was still a woman. It didn’t matter how smart or able she was. People would still judge her more harshly, be less likely to bring her their business, and they was no way that she could keep the business afloat. Sometimes he cursed the fact that she had been born a woman. But mostly he cursed the fact that she had been born into a world that judged her as being less because she was a woman.

He didn’t know how to help her. He didn’t know what to do. And so he refused to talk about it altogether.

*****

Naomi stood silently, grasping Matthew’s hand firmly, as the rain beat a steady rhythm on the umbrella that she held over them. Faith had been too ill still to leave her bed and join them.

She stared at the mound of dirt standing next to the gaping hole in the ground as the pastor spoke. He spoke first of what an honorable, God-fearing man that Nathan had been, and then he segued seamlessly into a bit about how the faithful had a place in Heaven and had no worry.

His words washed over her, never piercing through the veil of her consciousness. The faint presence of Matthew’s hand in hers kept her loosely tethered to the earth. She knew that the sermon was over when she felt Matthew squeeze her hand.

She looked down at him. She searched for the words to say to him. He was so young. Much younger that herself and Faith. She and Faith had never expected a younger sibling. Matthew had been a surprise. They had both been extremely protective of him from birth.

Naomi found that she was unable to find anything gentle to say now, at their father’s passing. Matthew saved her the trouble by speaking first.

“Do you think that Pa still worries about us?” he asked. Naomi glanced at the casket and the mound of dirt.

“I’m sure that he does,” she said. Matthew squirmed as a troubled look came over his face.

“But if he worries, then how can he be in Heaven?” he asked.

“What do you mean?” Naomi asked.

“Well the preacher sad that the faithful don’t need to worry. But if Pa worries about us, don’t that mean that he’s not faithful? And if he’s not faithful, don’t that mean he’s in hell?”

“
Doesn’t
that mean, not don’t,” Naomi said. She cared more about gaining herself time to think of a response, though she supposed she should start caring about his pronunciations. After all, with both their parents gone now, the job of educating her siblings would fall to her. The ploy gained her very little time in any case.

“
Doesn’t
that mean he’s in hell?” Matthew asked. Concern painted his young features.

Naomi’s features softened with compassion.

“Of course he ain’t…I mean, he’s
not
in hell,” she said. Matthew remained unconvinced.

“But the preacher man said that those in heaven have got no worry,” he said.

“Well, that’s true,” Naomi said. She tried to think quickly before speaking again. “But maybe he’s not in heaven.”

Horror painted Matthew’s features.

“But then that means he’s….in hell?” he said quietly.

“No! No, no,” Naomi said quickly. “It just means that he’s sort of…between.”  Matthew relaxed a bit.

“Like a ghost?” he asked hopefully.

“I…” Naomi almost contradicted him until she saw the hope in his eyes.

“Yes,” she said with a tight smile. “Like a ghost.”

Matthew tightened his hand around hers.

They walked home, hand in hand, the rain beating down on their umbrella as they walked.

*****

Naomi put Matthew to bed and made her way to Faith’s room. She knocked and waited for a response.

“Come in,” Faith said listlessly after a moment.

Naomi pushed the door open and made her way to Faith’s bed. Neither of them spoke for a long moment.

“How did he look?” Faith finally said flatly. She stared at the opposite wall rather than looking at Naomi.

Naomi felt a strong urge to yell, “
Dead! He looked dead, alright?! He looked DEAD!”
She shoved the urge down as far as she could.

“Good,” she said. “Dignified.” Faith turned and looked at her, pain written across her features.

“I think I killed him,” she said miserably.

Naomi was caught completely off guard, all of her defenses shattered.

“That isn’t true!” she said.

“Then
what?
” Faith asked bitterly.

“He…he was already sick,” Naomi said, hanging her head. “He was dying.”

Faith sat in silence, her jaw hanging open.

“What are you saying?” she finally asked.

“I’m
saying
that he didn’t die suddenly. And you didn’t cause this. He’s been sick for a long time. And he knew. He knew he was dying.”

Neither of them spoke for a long moment. Faith was the first to speak.

“He knew he was dying,” Faith said numbly.  Her eyes filled with tears. “Why didn’t he tell me? Why didn’t he tell Matthew?”

“He didn’t want to be a burden,” Naomi said. “To either of you.”

*****

Naomi did her best to keep the business afloat. But as her father had known, it was not meant to be. Within a year Naomi was forced to admit defeat and close the doors for good. She felt numb as she locked the doors for the last time and walked away from the now empty building.

She felt lost, unsure of what to do next or where she could go from here. To make matters worse, Faith had taken ill again. What little money they still had would be enough to support them only for a short while. It would come nowhere near paying for Faith’s treatment. Naomi missed her father fiercely. He would have known what to do.

When she reached home she trudged through the door and shut it quietly behind her. She followed the sound of Matthew’s voice to Faith’s room, where he sat reading to her from the family Bible. She leaned in the doorway and watched them.

Faith seemed more asleep than awake. It struck Naomi how much older Matthew seemed now than he had a year ago. She closed her eyes for a moment and listened to him as he read.

“He that dwelleth in the secret place of the most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress: my God; in him will I trust.”

She sighed as she opened her eyes. She wished that it were that simple.

Matthew, now aware of her presence, gently shut the Bible and turned toward her. Faith grasped his hand for a moment.

“Thank you,” she mumbled before drifting back to sleep.

“You’re welcome,” he said, giving her hand a squeeze.

He set the Bible down on the nightstand and he and Naomi slipped out of the room, shutting the door gently behind them.

“It’s done?” he asked. Naomi nodded.

“It’s done,” she said.

“Hard to believe,” he said with a small shake of his head. “Always thought I’d be takin’ over the family business when I got old enough.”

Naomi said nothing.

“What are we gonna do now?” he asked her. Naomi forced a smile.

“Now, now,” she said. “You’re too young to be worryin’ over such things.” Matthew shrugged.

“Maybe,” he said. “That don’t stop me from worryin’ though.” Naomi gave him a level look.

“
Doesn’t
. It doesn’t stop me from worryin’,” he corrected himself.

“I know,” Naomi said with a sigh. “We’ll figure something out.” She hoped that she sounded more convinced than she felt.