Forever An Ex (13 page)

Chapter

Nineteen

O
kay, Asia, I'll check on you tonight.” I clicked off my cell and whispered, “Thank you, Jesus.”

I was so grateful that Angel was home. Honestly, even though I'd kept telling Asia that everything was going to be all right, I couldn't say that I was sure about it. There was a part of me that had wondered on Saturday if Angel would come home on Sunday. Of course, I hadn't said that to Asia and I hadn't even mentioned it to Kendall. But I was worried that Angel would want to stay with Caroline. And I was even more worried that Caroline would be encouraging Angel to stay. After what Asia had told me and Kendall—how Caroline had set it all up, deliberately embarrassing Angel and Asia and Bobby—there wasn't a thing that I didn't think Caroline Fitzgerald Johnson would do to win.

But it seemed that Caroline had won enough. Angel was home with Asia, and Bobby was home with Caroline. I shook my head. The things some women went through . . . but then I paused. What was I talking about? I'd gone through my own marital trauma—with Quentin. Which was exactly why I was here.

I pushed open my car door, though there wasn't much room. I'd squeezed into this parking space in this small lot, right behind the Starbucks on Beverly near Cedars-Sinai Hospital.

Inside, I stood by the door and took a panoramic glance around. The coffee shop was poppin', like every other Starbucks in America at just before nine in the morning. It took a couple of seconds, but I finally spotted Harmony at a table in the corner in the back. Her head was down, her shoulders were slumped as if she were trying to make herself smaller.

I glanced at the line of patrons; I really wanted a chocolate chai, but what I wanted more than my favorite Starbucks beverage was to get to the good part, so I strolled toward Harmony.

As I walked, every single one of Brock's no's rang in my mind. He'd told me no over and over again on Sunday, and then yesterday he'd repeated it as if he wanted to make sure that I'd heard him the first hundred times. It was almost like my husband didn't trust me. As if he knew that I wouldn't be able to resist getting together with Harmony.

Well, one thing I could say about Brock Goodman was that he knew his wife.

And I knew that my husband was probably right. Meeting with Harmony was no doubt like juggling dynamite. Which was why I'd decided on Sunday that if she didn't call me, I wasn't going to call her.

But then she'd called last night, and I was all prepared to do what my husband requested, until she said, “Sheridan, you don't have any idea how much I appreciate you meeting with me. I don't have anyone else to talk to.”

Being the loving, caring woman that my mother raised me to be, how in the world was I supposed to turn her away after that?

So, all I could say was “When do you want to get together?”

And Harmony and I made plans to meet.

Because I didn't want Brock to know, I changed things up a little this morning. Normally, I rose when he did. But today, I'd stayed in bed until Brock was ready to leave for work.

“Are you okay?” he'd asked me when he'd sat on the edge of my side of the bed.

I felt guilty as he stroked my back, his concern for me in his touch and on his face. “Yeah, I was just so tired yesterday that I thought I'd sleep in this morning. I think I'm still recovering from our weekend.”

He'd grinned. “I wore you out, huh?”

I let him believe that; at least it would assuage some of my guilt, and he wouldn't walk out of the house worrying about me. But the moment I heard the garage door close, I jumped from the bed. Harmony had said she wanted to meet as early as I could because she had to be at Cedars-Sinai, where she worked as an RN, at noon.

I'd told her nine was fine with me; three hours would give me more than enough time to get all the information I wanted.

“Harmony?”

Her eyes were filled with surprise when she looked up. As if she didn't think I'd come. “I'm glad you're here.” She tried to upturn her lips into some semblance of a smile, and as I slid into the chair across from her, I smiled back.

With a quick glance, I took in the flowered top she wore. I'd seen this kind of uniform before; no longer did nurses wear just white. The modest smock made Harmony look quite different than she did on Christmas. On that day, she had on a silk wrap dress that displayed every one of her physical blessings.

“Thank you for coming,” she said, looking so much younger without makeup.

And looking younger was quite a feat. Because when I met her at Christmas, I'd wondered how many years had she been out of high school? I'd been shocked when she said she was thirty-five. But today, she looked like she hadn't even graduated yet.

“No problem.” And then I was silent. And she was silent, too.

I had no idea how to get us started until Harmony said, “You know, after I asked if you could meet me this morning, I wondered if this time was convenient for you. I never asked if you worked outside of your home.”

“I'm self-employed,” I said. This gave me the chance to bring up my ex-husband. “Actually, Quentin and I had a business together . . . a greeting-card company. Hart to Heart, which I've continued. It's pretty successful.” I shrugged. “Hallmark is my largest client, though now I do a lot of digital sites, too.”

“Wow.”

I tilted my head to the side. “Quentin never told you?”

She shook her head, and that was when I saw all kinds of sadness in her eyes, so different from the day we met when she acted like she'd been dipped in complete joy. On that day, she radiated happiness, thrilled to be engaged to Dr. Quentin Hart. But today, she looked like she hadn't really smiled in the seven weeks that had passed since Christmas.

“Quentin never told me about your business. He hasn't told me too much of anything,” she said.

How can you be engaged to a man who hasn't told you anything?
That's what I wanted to ask. But I was trying to be way more diplomatic than I'd been on Christmas Day. So, instead of just bombarding her with everything that was on my mind, I said, “So, you didn't know he was gay?”

She bit her lip as if she had to think about what she was going to say. “I don't know how to answer that because Quentin says he's not gay.”

The devil is a lie,
I said inside.

She continued before I could say those words out loud. “He was honest; he told me that he'd been with men and women, though he didn't tell me that right away.”

If he didn't tell you right away, he
wasn't
honest. But I kept that thought to myself and let her go on.

“But when he did finally tell me, he told me everything.”

Yeah, right.

“He told me that was the reason your marriage ended. He said that you couldn't handle his revelation that he was interested in men.”

“You think?” came out of my mouth before I could stop myself. What kind of nonsense was that? “What woman could handle her husband being gay?” I was about to continue my rant, but I paused when Harmony lowered her eyes and wrapped her hands tighter around her coffee cup.

She said, “By the time he told me, I was all in. I loved him, and so I believed him. And he said he never cheated on you. He said that he would never cheat on anyone he loved.”

I didn't hesitate for a moment. “I believe that, Harmony. At least, I believe that he didn't cheat, physically. But that didn't matter because he was already in love with Jett when he finally told me, so there was some kind of cheating going on.”

She squinted her eyes, tilted her head, and studied me. “That was his name . . . Jett?”

For someone who was about to marry a man who'd been with men, Harmony knew nothing. I wanted to tell her to put on her Nikes and run, but I nodded and said, “Yes, Jett. Actually, he was a friend of ours.” I paused. “But let me ask you something. Don't you think you should be having this conversation with Quentin?”

Harmony sighed and shrugged at the same time. “We've talked a lot. But recently, I've felt like there's something . . . I don't know . . . missing. Maybe I wasn't paying attention before. His being with men in the past didn't bother me because when you look at Quentin, he's such a man.”

Really?

“And he loves sports . . .”

She has to be kidding.

“And fast cars . . .”

She was killing me! She was thirty-five, but she was talking like she was twelve. “Well, clearly, all of that has nothing to do with being gay or not being gay. He was doing all of that when we were married and he was gay then.”

She frowned just a little. “That's the third time you've said that. Why do you keep calling him gay?”

I couldn't do a thing but give this girl a blank stare.

“I mean,” she continued, “yeah, he has been with men, but why can't it be exactly the way he said—that he was curious, and just experimenting.”

Okay, I got it now. Harmony wanted me to be her “yes” girl. Just say yes to everything that she hoped to be true. “Look, I'm not trying to convince you of anything and I'm not trying to get in your business with Quentin.” I paused; that was a lie. I was only there to get in their business. But suddenly I didn't want to know, I didn't need any answers. All I wanted to do was leave. I said, “I only came because you said you wanted to talk and I thought . . . maybe I could help a little, but I don't think this is helping at all.”

“No, no, no!” she said quickly. “I appreciate you coming, I appreciate hearing everything you have to say.” She paused and slowed down her words. “Please don't misunderstand; I'm not saying that what you're telling me isn't true. It's just that this is all so overwhelming and confusing and I'm just trying to grasp this idea.”

“Okay,” I said, a bit calmer now, “because I don't want you to think that I'm doing anything to get between you and Quentin.”

She shook her head. “I'm the one who called you. All of this has been heavy on my mind, ever since Christmas. You had so many questions; it was like you knew something that no one else did.”

It was interesting that she put it that way because that's how I felt then, and really, that's what I was feeling as I sat there with Harmony. But what I felt most was that Brock had been right. I needed to get my butt home.

“I'm really sorry about what happened at Christmas. It was just that it was such a shock to meet you.”

“I understand.”

“But still, that was no excuse to make you feel uncomfortable in my home.”

“But you asked good questions. You made me think, and after we left, I tried to talk to Quentin about everything you said, but he brushed it all aside. He said that you were still angry because of what happened between the two of you.”

I narrowed my eyes. Harmony should've kept that part to herself, because now I wanted to go in. Now I wanted to tell her that Quentin
was
gay and she'd be a fool to marry him. But I pressed my lips together and moved to the edge of the chair, ready to go. “All I can say is that if you believe him—”

“I believe him!” she said a bit strongly.

“Then there's nothing more to say, is there?”

She nodded at first, but then shook her head. “I just don't want to make the wrong decision.”

From the moment I'd met Harmony, I wondered what the sophisticated Dr. Quentin Hart saw in the woman that back in the day we called an around-the-way girl. But now I got it. Finally, I could see their commonality. They were two confused souls.

She said, “My friends were telling me that I shouldn't marry a man who's been with other men because once he does that, he'll always go back. But I didn't believe them. I just packed my bags and moved here so that I could be with Quentin.”

“Really?” I asked, wanting to kick myself for the way I scooted back in the chair. I needed to get this checked out—my curiosity was out of control. Maybe there was some kind of medicine I could take for it, but until then, I wanted to hear about this move.

She nodded. “We did that long-distance-dating thing for a while and then a job opened up at Cedars-Sinai. Not that I was looking for anything here in L.A., I wasn't ready to move. But Quentin found the position, and it paid a lot more than I was making in Detroit. So, it seemed like the right thing to do.” She paused. “But now, L.A. is so far from Detroit and I'm here alone, and I'm wondering . . .”

I told myself to get up, say good-bye, and get out. But instead I said, “Harmony, if you have any doubts, you've got to go with your gut. If your gut is telling you to marry Quentin, go with it. If your gut is telling you something else . . .” I stopped there. She had to be the one to finish that sentence.

She nodded. “My heart is telling me I'll be fine. Quentin told me that I needed to get all of these thoughts out of my head. He said that once we were married, he wouldn't be with a man or a woman. He said if God combined every man and every woman on earth, that person still wouldn't measure up to me. So why would he want to be with anyone else?”

Well, I couldn't fault her for falling for a line like that. That was Quentin Hart. When we were married, he made my knees weak with the lines he used to give me . . .

What word can I use to describe you, Sheridan? Happiness, serenity, joy? No, I've got it . . . everything. That's the perfect word because you're my everything.

I used to swoon when he said things like that, and he used to say things like that all day long.

“Harmony, all I can tell you is that Quentin is a good man. He wasn't the right man for me, but he is a good person. He's been an incredible father to our children and my mother still loves him.”

That brought a smile to Harmony's face.