Bed of Lies (14 page)

“Please don't say that. Don't start that again. Charisse will grant me the divorce, Lee. She'll do it.”

Eventually
, he wanted to add, but didn't.

“And Izzy isn't taking any of this well. I thought she would get used to the changes, that she would grow to love her life here. I mean, we're throwing her that big birthday party next week. I thought she'd be happy, but . . .” Leila slowly shook her head. “I finally told her yesterday that we were going to have a baby . . . that she was going to be a big sister. You know what she told me?”

He pursed his lips. “I'm afraid to ask.”

“ ‘Can I go live with Daddy now since you guys will have a kid of your own?' Like the baby makes her unnecessary.” Leila's face twisted with pain again. She sniffed. “Mama told me to just give her more time, not to take this stuff personally. But how could I not take it personally, Ev? My little girl would rather live on the other side of the country with that asshole than with me! I couldn't even tell her that there's no way in hell she could ever live with him since he'll probably get sentenced to jail time next month. He could be in some federal penitentiary by the end of the year.”

“Then tell her that!”

Leila shook her head again. “I can't. Izzy idealizes her dad. I don't want to be the one to knock him off his pedestal. It would alienate her from me even more.”

Evan disagreed. He thought Isabel should finally know how much her father had put her mother through before she finally had to leave him, how close he had pushed their little family to the precipice of bankruptcy and homelessness because of his dirty dealings and selfishness. But he knew Leila would never listen to him.

“
You're not a parent, Ev
,” she would argue. “
You don't understand
.”

So instead of pushing his opinion, he wrapped his arm around her. “Let's worry about the things we
can
control, then. Izzy may want to live with her dad, but she's still here. Maybe . . . maybe your mom is right.” Something he secretly doubted. “We just have to give Izzy more time. And even if Charisse drags her feet on the divorce, I still love you. I still want you at my side no matter what. And let's not forget . . .” He dropped his hand to her bare stomach. “We're having a baby! I don't know about you, but I'm fucking ecstatic!”

For the first time, she laughed. She finally broke into a smile and his heart lightened. She gazed up at him. “Let's see if you're still ‘fucking ecstatic' when that baby is screaming at the top of its lungs at two o'clock in the morning.”

“I'm still excited,” he whispered before lowering his mouth to hers for a kiss.

She kissed him back and for a blissful moment, all their worries went away.

Chapter 13

Paulette

P
aulette walked out of the examination room with her head bowed and her shoulders slumped.

She was now going to the doctor once a week and undergoing ultrasound after ultrasound. She had done a stress test, undergone an amniocentesis, was seeing a nutrition specialist, and had orders to be on modified bed rest, but her little boy was still too small for his gestational age, the specialist had told her with a frown. To make matters worse, she had developed high blood pressure and was starting to show early signs of preeclampsia.

More bad news
, she thought sadly.

Her life was already falling apart and now her body was starting to take a tumble off a cliff too.

“Paulette?” someone called to her as she stepped listlessly into the waiting room.

Paulette was startled out of her stupor. She looked up and saw Leila waving her hand wildly and rising from one of the waiting room chairs.

“Hey, girl! What are you doing here?” Leila asked as she strode toward her.

Paulette forced a smile, fighting down her panic. She hadn't expected Leila to be here. “Uh, just . . . just going to the doctor,” she mumbled as Leila hugged her and kissed her on the cheek.

Leila stepped back and laughed. “Well, that makes sense considering where we are! But what are you doing in
here?
I thought all the docs in this practice were obstetricians.” Leila paused. Her eyes widened to the size of saucers. “Wait, are you . . . are you pregnant? You mean to tell me you're pregnant,
too?
That's so ex—”

“No!” Paulette's tense smile broadened. “No, of course not! I was just here for a . . . a checkup. I mean, I was consulting with one of the . . . one of the doctors to ask how I could get pregnant in the . . . uh . . . in the future. Just in case Tony and I want to . . . to try to get pregnant . . . someday, b-but not n-n-now!” she stuttered.

Leila's face fell. “Here I was thinking we were pregnant at the same time.” She poked out her lip in an exaggerated pout and laughed again. “I already had visions of us pushing around running strollers together. I thought I finally had someone to commiserate with about morning sickness and sore boobs.”

Paulette shook her head. “Sorry to disappoint you. Maybe I'll get pregnant soon, though.”

“Oh, it's not a big deal!” Leila said, waving her hand. “Besides, you guys just got married last year. You've got plenty of time! There's no rush to—”

“Mrs. Williams,” a nurse in periwinkle blue scrubs suddenly called out from the opened door leading back to the examination rooms, “you forgot this, ma'am!”

Both Paulette and Leila turned to find the nurse holding up what was quite clearly an ultrasound printout. Paulette's mouth fell open. She rushed across the waiting room and snatched the printout from the nurse's hand, hoping Leila hadn't seen what it was. She quickly shoved it into the depths of her leather hobo bag.

“Thank you,” she mumbled to the nurse before turning back around to face Leila. When she saw the look on Leila's face, she knew that her hope that Leila hadn't noticed what was on the printed pages had been futile. Her surrogate big sister had definitely seen the ultrasound. Leila's face morphed from shock to confusion.

“I thought . . . I thought you said you weren't pregnant.”

Paulette took a deep breath. “I did,” she whispered.

“So whose ultrasound is that?”

Paulette slowly walked toward her. “Lee, let me explain.”

“What is there to explain? You're pregnant and you're lying about it for some reason.
Why?
”

“Can we not talk about this right here . . . right
now?
” Paulette glanced anxiously at the other women in the waiting room. They were all staring at the duo, not bothering to pretend that they weren't watching. “I'll try to explain what I can, b-but just not here with all these people around.”

Leila crossed her arms over her chest obstinately. “Fine. I was fifteen minutes early for my appointment. I've got some time. Where do you wanna go?”

Five minutes later Leila and Paulette walked into the complex's center courtyard. A brick walkway bordered by flowering dogwoods and planters filled with marigolds, geraniums, and ferns wound its way toward a man-made pond that trickled softly. The two women sat on a metal bench facing the pond. The sun was shining. A light breeze made the weather seem balmy. The space was beautiful, too, but none of this lightened Paulette's mood. She felt sick to her stomach. A burning formed in her chest and she was sure it wasn't indigestion from the pregnancy. She was terrified. She would finally have to reveal her secret to someone besides her doctors. Paulette stared at her lap, not knowing where to start.

“So, you're pregnant . . .” Leila began for her.

Paulette nodded, her eyes still focused on her lap.

“Does Tony know?”

Paulette hesitated, then shook her head.

“Well, when do you plan to tell him? Why haven't you at least told him, even if you're keeping it a secret from everyone else?”

Paulette didn't answer. She loudly swallowed instead.

“Honey, you can't keep this a secret forever. You know that! You're going to start showing soon!” Leila then narrowed her eyes at Paulette's stomach. “How far along are you, anyway? I couldn't even tell you were pregnant.”

“I'm . . . I'm twenty-seven weeks.”

“Twenty-seven weeks!
So you're . . . what? Six months pregnant now?”

“Almost seven,” Paulette whispered, clutching her stomach. The baby shifted, jutting either his little foot or elbow into her ribcage.

Leila stared at her in amazement. “How could you possibly be almost seven months? I was twice your size when I was pregnant with Izzy!”

“I've hidden it well, I guess,” Paulette confessed, finally raising her gaze. “I've been wearing baggy clothes since the beginning of the pregnancy. Plus, the doctor says the baby is . . . he's running a little small. Well, more than just a little. I guess that's why I'm not showing that much.”

“But why are you hiding your baby at all, Paulette? Why haven't you told anyone when you're this far along? I still don't understand!”

“Because I . . .” She pursed her lips. “Because I don't know who the father is. I don't know if it's Antonio's baby.”

“Oh my God!” Leila slumped back onto the bench. “Are you kidding me? You're not trying to tell me that you think it might be that guy's . . . your ex-boyfriend . . . what's his face?”

“Marques,” Paulette said, almost choking on his name.

She wished she could erase the name Marques Whitney from her memory, but she couldn't. He seemed to be omnipresent in her life even though he was long dead, and if she was carrying his baby, he would be a permanent presence, as well.

“I cannot believe I'm hearing this.” Leila slowly shook her head in denial. “I knew it! I knew that guy was bad news! Damn it, Paulette, I wish you would have—”

“Listened to you when you warned me to tell the police he was blackmailing me? Listened to you when you told me to tell Marques to go to hell? Yes, Leila, I know now that was probably what I
should
have done, but none of that matters now, does it? What matters now is that I'm pregnant and you know that I'm pregnant. If you care about me . . . if you care about my marriage to Tony . . . you'll let me handle this
my
way. I'm doing this the best way that I can.”

“By what?
Waiting until you're ready to deliver to finally tell Antonio and everyone else the truth? That's ridiculous!”

“Will you or won't you keep my secret, Lee? I need to know.”

Leila licked her lips, closed her eyes, and bowed her head. “No.”

Paulette frowned. Had she heard Leila correctly? “Did you just say ‘no'?”

Leila opened her eyes and nodded. She met Paulette's gaze. “Yes, I told you no. No, I'm not keeping this secret. The abortion you had when you were sixteen . . . the affair you had with Marques . . . the blackmailing . . . I didn't tell anyone because you begged me not to. But every secret I've kept has made things worse for you, Paulette, not better. . . and I've lived every day with the guilt that comes with that. It's isolated you from your brothers. It's alienating you from Tony. You're nearly seven months' pregnant and you're hiding it, for Christ's sake! I'm not doing this again!”

“But it could end my marriage, Lee! You don't understand everything that's happened! Antonio could—”

“No,” Leila said firmly. “I said no! Either you 'fess up to everyone, or I will.”

Paulette fell silent.

Leila glanced down at her watch. “Look, I have to get back upstairs, or I'll miss my appointment. I'll give you a little time to tell Tony first. But after that, I . . . I can't anymore.”

Paulette continued to clutch her stomach protectively, feeling her baby shift yet again. Leila was going to tell everyone the truth. The prospect left Paulette frozen with terror. In her periphery she watched as Leila stood from the bench and began to follow the brick pathway back to the complex's entrance. Leila paused and turned back to face Paulette.

“Even if you hate me now, know that I'm doing this because I care about you,” Leila called to her. “Please . . . just tell Tony the truth. Tell him everything. If he forgave you before, he'll do it again. Just give him a chance.”

Leila then turned back around and rushed toward the automatic doors.

Paulette could feel her eyes dampen with tears. She had unburdened herself and told Antonio the truth before—and what had it gotten her? A marriage on the brink of divorce, a dead lover, and a husband who could possibly face murder charges someday.

But now, because Leila refused to keep her secret, Paulette would have to walk into the fire again. She raised her hands to her face and wept silently in the courtyard. She didn't know how she was going to do this, but it looked like she had no choice but to try.

 

As she drove home, Paulette practiced the words over and over again in her head.

“Tony, I have something to tell you. It's something I should have told you long ago, but I was so scared,” she whispered as she turned the corner that led to their neighborhood. “I . . . I'm pregnant.”

As she said the word
pregnant
, she braced herself inevitably for the next obvious question.

“
Is it mine?
” he would ask.

“
I don't know
,” she would have to answer.

Just envisioning the scene made her flinch at the imaginary hand Antonio would pull back and slap squarely across her face. He had never hit her before, but there was a first time for everything. She sighed. Even practicing it aloud didn't make having to do this any easier.

Paulette gazed out the windshield at the rows upon rows of orderly lawns, immaculate hedges, luxury cars parked in driveways, and three-story colonials that were almost mirror images of each other. She wondered as she drove if the people inside those houses had lives that were as complicated as her own, if her neighbors had secrets they were terrified to share with the world. How would they face a challenge like the one she faced today?

As Paulette made a right turn onto her block, she wondered if Antonio would arrive home on time from work. Or would she have to wait for him for hours, sitting alone in the house biting her nails, wondering if Leila had already told Evan and if Evan had already told Terry? Would she be left alone to wonder how long it would take for the news to make its way back to her husband?

Her house finally came into view. She instantly spotted Antonio's silver Mercedes sedan parked in the driveway and her heart began to race. Her grip on the steering wheel tightened.

“What the hell is he doing home this early?” a panicked voice in her head shouted.

She soon got her answer as she drew closer and realized another car was parked beside Antonio's, an unmarked navy blue Ford Taurus. From the license plate, she knew it was the car driven by Detective Nola—the detective who was investigating Marques's murder and who wanted to talk to Antonio.

Suddenly, revealing that she was pregnant became a low priority.

“Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit!” she muttered over and over again. She almost hit Antonio's rear bumper before remembering to slam on the brakes. Her car lurched to a stop and she narrowly missed hitting her chin on the steering wheel. She threw the car into Park and frantically began to remove her seatbelt. Less than a minute later, she was running as fast as her pregnant body would allow to her front door. She tried to unlock it, but she dropped her keys twice with a clatter, too flustered to hold the house key still enough to insert it into the lock. When she bent down to her welcome mat to retrieve them the second time, the door slowly swung open before her.

Paulette looked up to find Antonio and Detective Nola standing in the doorway.

“Thank you for your time, Mr. . . .” Detective Nola was in the middle of saying before he paused to stare at Paulette quizzically.

Antonio cocked an eyebrow. “What are you doing?”

“I dropped . . . I dropped my keys,” she mumbled before blowing at the hair that had fallen into her eyes and slowly standing upright. Her gaze darted from the detective to Antonio and back again.

What had they talked about? What had Antonio told him? Did he tell Detective Nola that he couldn't confirm her alibi? Was she or her husband about to go to jail?