Ebony Angel (24 page)

* * *

The pain on Ebony’s face had hurt Richard worse than all the wounds Trae inflicted combined. He’d never forget her look of agony and confusion, or that he’d caused it. He stroked her hair. She’d fallen asleep leaning on the edge of the bed. Someday he’d make it up to her, but for now he had to play along with Trae’s game. The room door creaked open. He pretended to be asleep.

“Well, what do we have here?” Bianca asked as she strode across the room, high heels clicking on the floor all the way. “Come on, Gail.”

Ebony stretched. “Pardon me.” She stood, straightening her jeans and blouse. “Hello, I’m Ebony Washington.” She held her hand out to shake. “You must be Bianca and Gail, Richard’s sisters.”

Bianca placed her hands on her imaginary hips, turning her narrow nose up at Ebony. “You
are
dark, aren’t you?”

Ebony frowned. “Excuse you.”

“You may leave now, Elbowknee.”

Gail laughed. “I know he had no intentions on marrying this one. What a cruel joke.”

Richard peeked at his sisters. They were still both anorexically thin, tall for women but shorter than Ebony, had long, bleached blonde hair, and were bitches. Ebony looked as if she was praying for patience.

“How was your flight, ladies? Will your parents be arriving soon?”

“We live in Chicago,” Bianca said.

“What?”

“Yes, we live in Chicago. You didn’t actually believe he wanted to marry you, did you?” Gail asked. “Oh please, he’d take you to bed, but that’s about it.” She giggled. “And these
hoodrats
are supposed to be so street smart.”

Pimp-slapping his sisters into purgatory seemed like a good idea to Richard. Remaining silent while they belittled Ebony killed him slowly, but it would work in his favor.

Ebony gritted her teeth, softly counted to a hundred by tens, then glared into Bianca’s cold black eyes. “When were you notified Richard was in the hospital?”

Bianca seemed tongue tied, so Gail answered, “Some jerk had the audacity to wake me at two in the morning talking about it was an emergency. Last I checked, we’re not doctors. What could we do?”

“Wait a second. You were informed two days ago and you’re just coming in today? Aw, hell naw!”

Richard had to watch. He’d never heard Ebony curse. She stood with her back to him, hands on her hips, neck twisting, railing at his sisters. He loved every second of it.

“…You want audacity. Let me tell you about audacity. A few nights ago, at two o’clock, Richard almost died, and his
loving family
was nowhere in sight. Not because they didn’t know, or they were too far away to see him. That would be too much like right. Nope, nope, no. His loving family didn’t come because they don’t exist, and the family he does have never gave a damn.

“You are two cruel, heartless, mean-spirited, unhappy, evil wastes of human flesh. You tormented Richard so badly as a child he still has nightmares to this day. Why are you here now? Not for his well-being.”

“You can’t speak to us like this,” Bianca interrupted. “Who do you think you are?”

“No need to think about it. I’ll tell you exactly who I am. I’m the dark-skinned hoodrat that will put her foot up your ass if she hears you upset Richard in any way, shape or form!”

“What’s all the noise?”

Everyone jumped at Trae’s sudden entrance. The sisters backed away. Richard pretended to be asleep.

“I’m ready to leave now.” Ebony gently brushed her lips over Richard’s. “Goodbye,” she whispered.

* * *

Comfort and the hospital lounge chair were mortal enemies. Skeet twisted and turned his large body, finally giving up. Ebony was still with Richard, Trae had disappeared and Skeet wanted sleep.

He took the cheap leatherlike cushions off the chairs and love seats, then scooted one of the love seats and end tables away from the wall.
Damn, they need to dust back here.
He placed his temporary bed behind the love seat frame, stretched his long body out and drifted into sleep. The sound of a woman’s heels clicking against the hospital floor woke him a short time later.

* * *

“Stop pulling on me, Steph,” Nonno demanded as they entered the lounge. She’d been acting strange—stranger than usual—ever since he insisted on accompanying them to Chicago.

Stephanie released her father’s arm. “I’m sorry, Papà. I just wanted to…” She covered her mouth with her hands. “I’m sorry.”

He hugged his daughter. “Don’t worry, baby. Richard will be fine.”

“I need to ask you something, but I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Stephanie, my patience has worn thin.”

“Papà. I love you. You’ve always been my hero.”

Sorry he had spoken so harshly, he softened. “You’re my baby.” He caressed her face. “Don’t be afraid. Tell Papà what’s bothering you.” He glanced at Phillip, who looked as confused as Nonno felt.

She lowered her head. “I’m Richard’s mother, and have to do what’s best for my son. Would you please not tell people…” She lifted her head. Tears streamed down her face. “Don’t tell them you’re his grandfather.”

“What?” he snapped.

“Stephanie!” Phillip spun her around to face him. “What are you saying?”

She turned back to her father. “I’m sorry, Papà, but I can’t allow the same thing that happened to me to happen to Richard. He could die. If the doctors find out about you, they won’t give Richard the best treatment. Please, Papà.” She hugged him tightly. “I love you so much. Please understand. I’m not ashamed of you. I love you. You’re my papà. You’re my hero.”

Nonno gently rocked his daughter, trying to alleviate her fear. The way she paraded him around, there was no way she could be ashamed of him. “Who hurt you, Steph?” Her treatment of Richard finally made sense.

He stepped out of denial. She wouldn’t allow the child to play outside. He had convinced himself she wanted pretty little girls that sat around the house, but in his heart he knew she didn’t want Richard to appear any darker. Unlike his sisters, Richard had been born with an olive complexion, and darkened quickly in the sunlight.

When Richard went through the finding-his-black-self stage in college, Nonno thought it was hilarious. Especially since Richard was an Italian-American, not African-American. Stephanie almost had a heart attack, literally. Richard only hung out with black students. He minored in African-American studies. He felt comfortable in the culture.

“I love you, Papà.”

“I’ll always love you, Steph. I just want to understand. I need for you to tell me what happened.” He held her hand and led her to the lounge chairs. He frowned. Some idiot had taken most of the cushions. He guided her to a seat, then pulled around an upright chair for himself. Phillip stood by silently.

He took her hands into his, warming them. “You’re trembling.”

“Don’t hate me, Papà.”

“I love you.” He fingered her graying shoulder-length hair behind her ear. “Tell me what happened.” After high school she had decided her accent wasn’t cute any longer so worked to lose it. She had told him others wouldn’t accept her unless she sounded and acted American. It hurt him that she chose this strange culture over his, but he eventually accepted her choices. She had never said a word to him about his color being an issue. He worried she had been protecting him all of these years.

“We can’t remain silent any longer, Steph. The family is a mess: my granddaughters barely acknowledge me or their brother, my grandson is in the hospital fighting for his life and has never felt he fit in, my daughter’s afraid people will find out she’s…”

“No,” she cut in. “I’m not afraid people will know you’re my father. I’m proud of you. Always have been.”

“I know. What I don’t know is what happened.”

Phillip knelt beside the pair. “Stephanie has always been proud of her papà. During college, she bragged about you all the time and showed your letters to her friends. The girls were jealous of Stephanie. She was beautiful, smart. Her being Italian made her more exotic. They used to tease her about her accent.”

“That’s why you worked at losing your accent,” Nonno said.

She slowly nodded yes.

Phillip continued, “Lucy wanted to knock Stephanie down a few pegs. One time Lucy said Stephanie was lying, and that you didn’t own restaurants all over the world. She said Stephanie had just capitalized off a common Italian name and written the letters herself. Of course, Stephanie had to prove Lucy wrong. A week or so later we all dressed in evening attire and drove from Boston to your restaurant in New York.

“Lucy knew Stephanie was about to make a big fool of herself. You see, Stephanie had insisted we not make reservations.” He shrugged. “I have to admit, I thought we would be turned away. Pacini’s was a five-star restaurant before they had five stars. None of us could afford Pacini’s. You had to make reservations at least a week in advance. I knew Stephanie was a relation, but thought she was embellishing about her father being the owner.”

“Phillip, how could you?” Stephanie snapped.

He patted her hand. “Darling, everyone in our circle stretched the truth concerning their father’s wealth. We all wanted to be Rockefellers or Vanderbilts.” He faced Nonno. “When we walked into the restaurant, the staff knew Stephanie. They fawned all over
Miss Pacini
, tripping over themselves to serve her. They asked how her father liked California, and made our whole group feel welcome.”

Nonno chuckled. “My baby the show-off.”

“Well, I had to teach them a lesson, Papà.” Her smile faded. “I didn’t understand. I mean, I knew how blacks were treated, but that wasn’t my life. We’re Italian.”

“I asked Stephanie to marry me. She said she wouldn’t without your blessing. She called and asked for you to come over for Easter break. In true Stephanie style, she paraded you all over the place.”

Her smile lit her whole face up. “You were so handsome, Papà. I felt like royalty having you at my side.” She lowered her head. “After you left, things changed. My friends, except Phillip, started acting funny. When I finally confronted them, they said I should have told them I was a nigger. I was so confused.”

Phillip continued on her behalf. “At the time she didn’t understand that to our snobbish friends, black was black. They treated her miserably.”

“I’d always been Italian, and even when I was working to sound American, I knew I’d always be Italian. The people I thought were my friends called me names and treated me like a criminal.”

“Oh, baby.” Nonno embraced his daughter. “That was forty years ago, Steph. Times have changed.”

“The type of people I went to school with are now the heads of companies Richard has to work for. The doctors that should be saving him.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Her grin drew his mind back to her mischievous teen years. “Because you would have come ready to fight for your daughter’s honor. I was getting married, and never had to see them again.” She had married over the summer and didn’t finish school.

“You’re going to therapy.”

“What? I don’t need therapy.”

He raised a brow. Her expression made her look closer to six than sixty years old. “Are you talking back to me?”

“No, sir.”

He rubbed her back. “After you’ve had a few sessions, I’ll go also if it will help. Right now you need to go see your son.”

“Aren’t you coming?”

“Of course. I just need a few minutes alone.” Nonno didn’t know what to do about Stephanie or Richard. He had condemned Phillip for ignoring Richard’s suffering, yet he’d done the same thing with his child. And Richard…
I almost got my grandson killed.

At a loss, the only thing he was clear on was he would never forgive himself.

Trae stood in the doorway of Ebony’s room, watching her work diligently at the computer. In the month since Richard’s unfortunate mishap, she had continued with business as usual. Well, almost. Her fire was gone, and she was always on the defensive. Helping her get over Richard was more difficult than he thought it would be.

“Where’s Crystal?” Ebony had asked him if she could adopt Crystal. He explained that he had made a mistake asking Richard to adopt her. He was her father, and couldn’t give up custody. She didn’t take his explanation well, and while she had started speaking to him again, the hostility remained.

“Skeet took her with him to visit Richard.”

He cursed under his breath for his miscalculation. Richard cooperated, but Skeet kept the door open. “I’m worried about you.” She ignored him and continued working.

“Look at me, Ebony.”

“I’m busy, Trae.”

“Ever since you broke up with Smoke, all you do is work, work, work. You’re burning yourself out.”

“I took Crystal to see a movie yesterday.”

He held his hands up slightly. “I stand corrected. You work, work, work, take care of Crystal, work, work, work. You’re a mess. When’s the last time you went to the gym, ate a good meal; hell, fixed your hair?”