Color of Deception (11 page)

Chapter 30

Debra and Leah’s huge Sunday hats dominated the front row of the pew they were sitting in. Their hats coordinated with their Sunday best attire. Rachel and her dad Noah sat on the pew with them, also adorned in fashionable church attire. Pete was sitting at the end of the row wearing a light gray custom fitted suit with a white dress shirt and coordinating tie and handkerchief, he looked ready to strut the runway. Carl was asleep on his lap wearing a crisp-white baby dedication outfit that Leah bought for him. Pete looked down at the sleeping baby in his arms. His heart swelled with pride. He was having a hard time believing that he was actually starting to enjoy his role in the baby’s life. And on top of that – he was back in church, all for the sleeping baby who was just dedicated to God and had fallen back to sleep after a fit of tears from being awakened by the Pastor who held him up high to present him to the church and give him his blessing.

Pastor Tyreke Braxton was at podium teaching the Word of God. Pastor Tyreke was a tall man, about six feet five inches tall. He dominated the podium with his height as he taught, stretching his long arms every so often to emphasize his points. Pete once greatly admired the man. He truly accepted him as his earthly shepherd and he was a loyal follower of the man of God. But the color of his skin tarnished all the brilliance Pete knew his pastor had. So what if he was a faithful man to his wife, so what if he was knowledgeable of the word of God, so what he’d counselled Pete and Moriah on a few occasions, so what that Pastor Tyreke had prayed for them, blessed their marriage, and so what that he also graciously performed the memorial service for his wife. All Pete saw was the fact that the man was black.

But as he looked down at Carl nestled in his arm, then back up again at Pastor Tyreke, he couldn’t understand how he could love the little bundle of joy and yet despise the Pastor that shared the same racial heritage as the baby.

Shame overwhelmed Pete. He hated the man he had become –and he knew Moriah would hate to know the racist man he’d turned into. How could he allow his grief over losing his wife distort his perception of another human being?

“God instructed us to
love
one another not
like
one another, there’s a big difference. To like someone is based solely on
conditions
, whereas to love someone unconditionally is a selfless act,” Pastor Tyreke spoke breaking Pete’s train of thoughts. “Let’s all read Galatians chapter five verse thirteen to eighteen,” he flipped through his bible. “You, my brothers and sisters, were called to be free. But do not use your freedom to indulge the flesh; rather, serve one another humbly in love. For the entire law is fulfilled in keeping this one command: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ If you bite and devour each other, watch out or you will be destroyed by each other. So I say, walk by the Spirit, and you will not gratify the desires of the flesh. For the flesh desires what is contrary to the Spirit, and the Spirit what is contrary to the flesh. They are in conflict with each other, so that you are not to do whatever you want. But if you are led by the Spirit, you are not under the law.”

Pete’s heart quickened after hearing the words in the bible reading. Pastor Tyreke was looking right at him, and Pete swore the man could see the hate in his heart. Could read his thoughts and know that he was a fraud. Know that he no longer trusted in the God he and his wife used to worship together faithfully. Carl stirred in his blissful sleep giving Pete a brief distraction from the microscope he felt he was suddenly under. He felt Rachel glanced over at him where she sat. Pete wanted to get up and leave, but sitting on the front row would draw too much attention to his escape. He looked back up toward the podium after seeing Carl nestled back into a deep sleep and tried to look everywhere but at Pastor Tyreke.

“Are you living by the Spirit today church? Are you loving your brothers and sisters? Despite the wrong they may have done to you, despite the fact that you may not like who they are, despite the color of their skin, or the language they speak or where they came from. Are you truly walking in love?”

Pete’s palms began to sweat as he felt rebuked by every word of Pastor Tyreke. Tears moisten the corners of his eyes as he felt God speaking to his heart and mind. God whom he’d turned his back on since his wife’s death. But Pete felt the presence of God like he’d just been touched. He felt ashamed and repentant. “Forgive me Jesus,” he whispered. His body started to shake, he could no longer control the tears, the deep sorrow that was in the pit of his soul.

Pastor Tyreke ended his teaching with an altar call. Pete didn’t know how he ended up standing at the altar with his hands outstretched toward heaven. He cried like no one else was in the sanctuary. The pain he felt from the loss of his wife, from the death of Carlisha, from the hate that had dominated his heart, from turning his back on the Lord, came out in tears and sobs. “Forgive me Jesus!” Pete cried out. “Forgive me Jesus!”

Debra was now at his side, rubbing his back and silently praying for him. She didn’t know what was happening, but against her will she felt herself falling for the man she had initially despised.

Leah was holding Carl while still sitting on the pew with Noah and Rachel.

Rachel watched her uncle at the altar with tears streaming down her face. Tears of joy. She just knew her Aunt Moriah was doing a praise dance in heaven.

Chapter 31

Ever since their kiss Debra had been avoiding Pete like the plague. She made sure all of their conversations were centered on Carl or other non
them
topics. Pete had tried to apologize to her again after their kiss weeks ago, but she quickly brushed him off and changed the subject. She didn’t want to talk about it, because then she would have to admit that she wanted the kiss to happen – and more. She was really struggling with her developing feelings for Pete, and she also wondered if he only kissed her because he was feeling sad that day. Was she just a comfort for him at that moment? She really didn’t want to know, because that would make the truth of her feelings for him harder to bear. But for the life of her, she couldn’t stop herself for falling for him. Ever since he had taken on the role of being Carl’s guardian and she had been staying over periodically to assist in the care of the baby, Debra couldn’t help but feel like they were a family, and that feeling only loudly announced the void she had been feeling after her divorce – after not being able to bare children of her own. But her feelings for Pete was more than her filling a void – dammit if she had to truly admit it, she had a thing for him since the first time she rang up his groceries at the store. But her wanting to steer clear of any man made her banish her feelings to the deepest part of her heart – until now.

Debra was sitting on the couch in the living room reading a chapter out of a business text book for one of her summer classes, while she looked up at Carl periodically going back and forth in his swing that was stationed right in front of her. She marveled at how well-mannered he was. He was such a good baby. He didn’t fuss much – only when he was hungry, sleepy or needed a diaper change. He was used to his daily schedule of feeding times, nap times and bed time. Debra wished every day that Carlisha was there to see how well her son was growing. With that thought she suddenly became angry because they had recently found out that nothing was going to happen with the charges against Porsha Smith for causing Carlisha’s death other than a misdemeanor charge with her paying a fine. Debra swore under her breath thinking about Porsha getting off scot-free for her crime. No doubt in her mind did she believed that Porsha’s attack resulted in her friend’s death. But the judges and lawyers or whoever the heck they were saw otherwise. She quickly repented for her dark thoughts of revenge that started to swirl around in her mind. No child should have to live life, especially so young, without their parents.

“Hey handsome, you’re such a cutie pie,” Debra cooed at Carl, he gave her a gummy smile that only melted her heart. She loved him more than she thought was possible.

The doorbell rang breaking her admiration of the delightful baby in front of her. She placed her text book to the side and walked to the front door.

When she got to the front door and peeped through the peephole she turned around quickly pressing her back against the door in shock of who she saw on the other side.
What is he doing here?
Her right hand covered her mouth as she tried to muzzle the gasp that escaped her mouth. She contemplated ignoring the other ringing of doorbell that the unwelcomed guest pressed announcing their visit.

Debra looked over at Carl a few feet away in the living room swinging away contently. Her heart constricted like a momma bear in protective mode as she turned around toward the front door and started to unlock and open the door.

“Hello,” Debra greeted as calmly as possible watching the unwelcomed guest, with a guarded expression on her face.

“I want to see him.” Roger demanded, lifting his head which showed a flash of fury in his eyes. This caught Debra by surprise, that – and some resemblance of Carl she saw on the man’s face. She knew her baby’s face well enough to know.

She had heard the rumors of him possibly being Carl’s father since he was the last person people remembered Carlisha being involved with, but since he’d not voluntarily admitted it or stepped forward to claim the baby, she assumed he wasn’t the father after all. But now, with him standing in front of her, her emotions were haywire. She wanted to protect Carl from anything and anyone. Plus, she’d already bonded and gotten used to her role in his life, that she couldn’t imagine him being taken away from her – not even by his father. Succumbing to his conscience and wanting to do the right thing be damned, because Roger couldn’t be trying to take Carl away from her.

Fear gripped her, making her pale skin even paler, and she stepped back and tried to shut the door in his face, but Roger shoved his Timberland booted foot in the door preventing her.

“I want to see my son!” He angrily pushed the door open with his hand. Debra could smell alcohol on his breath which only intensified her fear.

“He’s sleeping,” she lied trying to buy time.

Roger stumbled back drunkenly trying to get his footing.

Two hours ago, he and Porsha had gotten into another one of their arguments. She went on a rampage with him when he was disciplining their eight-year-old son for cussing at him, calling him every word out of his name. Roger was whooping his son’s butt with the belt when Porsha came running out of their bedroom after hearing the cussing and fighting. She yanked her eight-year-old out of Roger’s way while calling every other word out of his name that their son hadn’t used. When Roger retaliated by calling her an unfit mother for teaching their children how to be disrespectful, ungrateful brats, was when she vehemently announced that the eight-year-old wasn’t even his son.

Roger had his doubts about the paternity of all their children. But heck if what she said didn’t knock the wind out of him. Which only became worse when the eight-year-old taunted – “Yeah you’re not my daddy!”

Roger stormed out of the house quickly – afraid if he stayed a moment longer he would’ve killed Porsha with his bare hands and he would have enjoyed every moment of it as life slipped from her vile body. The word
hate
was an extremely underrated word to describe his feelings for his wife.

Moments after he left the house, he was parked in front of his favorite liquor store. He needed a drink. Something dark and potent. That or go back home to feed his flesh by getting rid of his wife. He didn’t understand why he was angry with her. He always suspected as much. But reality was tormenting the hell out of him. He sat in his car after the purchase and drank until his feelings were numb. Then he started his car and drove, by miracle of not killing someone or himself.

Now he was standing drunk on Pete’s doorsteps demanding to see his son. At least he knew that this child was his.
A child you wanted to get rid of
, his intoxicated conscious taunted him.

“I don’t care if he’s sleeping gotdammit, I want to see my son!” Roger pushed his way inside the house. Debra tried to block him, push his unstable body backwards outside the door, but his height and weight were too much for her. Roger staggered forward, toward the living room when he caught sight of Carl in the swing.

Debra dashed ahead of him quickly unbuckling and scooping Carl into her protective arms. “I swear to God I will call the police if you don’t leave now!” she screamed as Roger now drunkenly stumbled toward her as she tried to make an escape out of the living room through the dining room.

“I just want to see my son! That’s not your baby –”

“What is going on in here?” Pete thundered, appearing out of nowhere.

When he pulled up to the house and saw an unfamiliar car parked in the driveway and the front door wide open he became alarmed, so he parked and came through the front instead of parking in the garage like he usually did.

“Oh thank God, Pete!” Debra exclaimed clutching the baby to her chest. “He’s trying to take Carl.”

“I’m his father,” Roger slurred looking at Pete as he charged toward him.

“Get out of my house!” Pete snapped, nostrils flaring, fists clenched, his cream complexion reddened with rage.

“I just… want to…sss…see him…” Roger lost his footing and spilled backwards falling to the floor just inches away from knocking a side table in the living room over.

Pete cussed under his breath at the pitiful sight of Roger trying to pull himself up off his living room floor. He continued toward him. He recognized him immediately as the rumored possible father of Carl.

Kneeling before Roger, Pete spoke “Let me make this clear to you, Roger, or whatever your name may be. Carl is my responsibility now and I’ll be damned if I let you or anyone one else try to hurt
my
son.”

Roger laughed, giving Pete a whiff of his intoxicated breath as the two men looked at each other at eye level. “I’m his father. Do you see the color of his skin? There’s no trace of white in him. So your days of playing daddy is over!” Roger laughed again as he slumped back against a couch to help support his drunken weight.

Pete jumped to his feet, snatched the collar of Roger’s shirt and began dragging him out of the living room. Roger was too drunk to care anymore as Pete forcefully dragged him out of his house, down the porch steps and left him at the end of the driveway. Debra called the police to report a drunk man in the driveway and left it as that for the police to deal with him.