God Only Knows (26 page)

Julia nearly fell into Marcus’s platonic embrace, shamelessly letting tears roll this time. With Maxwell silently standing
by, she let a hug communicate the concern they both shared for Cassie.

Once she and Marcus had separated and he had shown the couple out, Julia leaned against Maxwell as they descended the Gillettes’
porch steps. “Why won’t she let me help her?” She still couldn’t believe how stubborn Cassie was being; not that there was
an easy way out of the mess her friend’s confession had caused, but Julia was willing to try and brainstorm one. Cassie had
been immovable, though, insisting that Julia, Terry, and Toya let her carry the weight.

“Remember,” she had said adamantly before Julia had stepped out of her home office, “this isn’t about me. I’m doing this for
M.J.”

Once they were in his car and had pulled into traffic, Maxwell cleared his throat. “Well, I know you didn’t get the cooperation
you wanted from her, but what about my question?” Maxwell had asked Julia to pass along a disturbing request: Edna Whitlock-Walker-Morrison,
Eddie’s mother, wanted desperately to speak with Cassie. Julia hadn’t thought it sounded like a good idea, but at Maxwell’s
urging, she had passed along the question.

“She’s not interested in the offer,” Julia said as she stared out the passenger-side window. Julia hadn’t argued with Cassie
on that score; given that Cassie’s confession fell short of being the complete truth, little good could come from such a meeting.

“Not interested?” Maxwell frowned as he glanced toward her. “I mean, she confessed to an involvement in what happened to Eddie.
I know it was self-defense, but doesn’t she understand that alone makes it more important that Edna get to speak to her?”

Julia felt an eyebrow rise as she looked at her new boyfriend. “I don’t think I follow you.”

Maxwell sighed under his breath. “Julia, Edna has lived for twenty years with the understanding that her boy was an innocent
victim. The very first time I met her, at the job interview, she told me that she believed Eddie’s incapacitation was the
result of random chance, that he was just crossing the street and got run down by an irresponsible driver. Personally, I was
amazed that she could have peace about that, in a way that strengthened her spiritual faith.

“Now, along comes Cassie with her half-full version of the truth, and what does Edna hear and see? The chance to see someone
pay for what happened to Eddie? Not at all. You want to know the question she had for me the day this hit the papers? ‘Maxwell,
you knew my boy, didn’t you? Do you think he could actually treat a girl like that, trying to molest or attack her? That’s
not how I raised him.’ Julia, it was one of the most uncomfortable conversations I’ve had in years. How do I tell a woman
I admire that yes, based on what I know about Cassie and, more important, about the corroborating testimony from my new girlfriend,
I have no doubt that her son was a budding sexual predator, that he sealed his fate by messing with the wrong group of girls?”

Julia let the back of the passenger seat down and closed her eyes as if napping. “That’s what you should have told her, Maxwell.
Minus the reference to me, of course.”

“She deserves to hear Cassie’s account directly, if not all of yours,” Maxwell said. “She’s really torn right now, not sure
whether to believe Cassie. She’s not a young woman,” he said, glancing over at Julia as he picked up speed now that they’d
exited the pricey, heavily patrolled city of Oakwood. “If she’s going to have to absorb the truth of who Eddie was, shouldn’t
she come to grips with it by hearing directly from his victim?”

“Cassie didn’t close the door forever on meeting with her,” Julia said finally. “She’s just not prepared to go there right
now, okay? Can you respect that?”

“Ultimately, yes.”

“Oh, and another thing. Will you tell your friend Pastor Campbell to leave me alone? He calls me again, Maxwell, I cannot
be held liable for what I do to him.” From the day that Cassie’s confession had first hit the news, Jake had dogged her worse
than a reporter. Julia had quickly realized that his call a couple of weeks earlier had less to do with interest in the Board
of Advisors than in snooping around for information about Cassie. The one time he had caught her, a couple of days ago, he
had turned her stomach with his selfish questions, all of them clearly meant to help deflect his connection to an embarrassing
case whose racial overtones clashed with his role as a “racial reconciliation” pastor.

“I talked to him last night,” Maxwell said, glancing over at her. “He promised to back off. Look, he’s just curious, like,
frankly, I imagine all of our classmates are. Here, everyone thought Eddie’s fate was random, and Cassie’s news revealed there
was a lot more complicated drama behind the scenes.”

“Well, his level of curiosity is unhealthy,” Julia replied. “I’d expect more of a man of God.”

“I’ll stay on top of him,” Maxwell said. “You sure you’re okay with going back to my place to talk? We could always go to
a restaurant or something.”

“Your place is fine,” Julia replied. “These days, public places aren’t much fun. Everyone wants to ask me about Cassie’s confession;
people’s lack of tact is amazing. And if you’re worried about doing anything deviant with me, don’t be. I have to go get Amber
from my father’s in an hour, so I don’t have time for funny business.”

Maxwell chuckled as they cruised onto his block, then stopped suddenly; his eyes narrowed and lips pursed at the sight of
a silver Lexus SUV.

Noting that his chuckles had ceased, Julia turned toward Maxwell. “Do you recognize that car or something?”

“I—it’s nothing,” he replied. “I’m probably just seeing things.”

Once they had parked in the garage, they took the elevator up to the lobby, their conversation continuing in sober, hushed
tones. When the elevator doors opened, Maxwell stepped into the lobby a few paces ahead of Julia, then froze at the sight
of a stylishly dressed white woman pushing a toddler girl in an expensive-looking stroller. Even though a hundred yards separated
Maxwell and the woman, Julia caught the way the glare in the woman’s eyes intensified at the sight of her man.

“What did you do to her?” she asked, chuckling and wondering if the woman was a disgruntled patient.

Maxwell put out a hand, lightly patting Julia’s shoulder. “I need you to wait here for a second, if you don’t mind.”

Julia crossed her arms, ears slowly filling with a ringing she couldn’t remember hearing recently. The ringing continued as
she watched Maxwell approach the woman and her sleeping toddler. Slowly she let herself notice the pretty little girl’s beige-brown
skin, the modest kink in her head of bouncy curls.

The ringing changed to a humming, a warning, but Julia was instinctively incapable of staying in her place while Maxwell tried
to put out his little fire. The
-clack-clack
of her heels filling the lobby, she stepped within ten feet of them, hovering as Maxwell addressed the slinky brunette.

Maxwell stood one step away from the woman and her child. “I . . . didn’t think we were on each other’s calendar today.”

“We weren’t,” the woman replied, one high heel tapping as she used a hand to absentmindedly slide her daughter’s stroller
back and forth. “I brought Nia into town for a kids’ play at the Schuster. I figured with us being so close, we should stop
by and see your place, say hello.” She braved a glance toward Julia before saying, “Sorry if we interrupted anything. She
looks like she’s the right complexion for you, at least.”

“Tiffany, don’t start. You’re too classy to go down that road.” Maxwell’s words were aimed at the white woman, but his eyes
were far from her as he knelt down toward the little girl, who had slowly begun to rub at her eyes. Touching an index finger
to the child’s nose, he glanced up at Julia suddenly. “This is Julia Turner, an old friend from high school.”

Julia took advantage of the invitation to step directly into the line of fire, extending a hand graciously even as the weak
part of her flesh prayed that her instincts were misleading her. “Tiffany,” she said, holding a little longer to the woman’s
cool hand than probably expected, “it’s a pleasure to meet you. How are you and Maxwell acquainted?”

Tiffany flashed a smile, then shook her head at Maxwell in apparent amazement. “I’m not surprised, I told myself not to be
surprised,” she said insistently, her eyes turning toward the ceiling. “Does anyone besides your family even know we exist,
Dr. Simon?”

“Julia,” Maxwell said, rising back to his feet with the little girl in his arms, “this is my daughter, Nia, and her mother,
Tiffany Page.”

Julia’s insides heaved involuntarily, her body telling her to find the nearest trash can, but her self-respect helped her
push back.
I am a child of God.
Against every fiber in her being, she reached out a hand toward Nia, whose beautiful, wide brown eyes had popped all the
way open. “Hey, sweetie,” she said. “Your daddy keeps a secret pretty well, but the real mystery is . . . why?” She looked
between Maxwell and Tiffany. “She is gorgeous. You could send her to college just by having her model.”

Maxwell pecked a kiss onto Nia’s cheek, then looked between the two women with a hardening gaze. “Tiffany, I want you to know
that Julia and I are dating, and there is a chance it could be serious. Julia,” he continued, pivoting, “I’m going to ask
for your patience in understanding why you’re just now learning about all this. Don’t go all —”

Feeling the time was right, Julia finally let loose with what she hoped was a blistering cackle —a loud, unbalanced, aggressive
laugh that would make even Hillary Clinton cringe.
“Ohh,”
she said finally, after reveling in the stares of a few passersby and Maxwell’s downturned eyes. “
Ohh,
Maxwell, you crack me up.” Turning on her heels, she let loose again with the cackle, fumbling at the same time for her car
keys and realizing that he was her ride tonight.

“I get it,” Maxwell said as he reached her, a hand gently touching her elbow. “This is bad, but I will explain. Let me see
them off; then we’ll go upstairs and —”

Julia shrugged from his grasp. “Tend to your child,” she said. “After you call me a cab, that is. I’ll be on the couch over
there. Just have the desk wave me over.”

“You’re right,” he replied, sighing and pawing at his neck. “You’re right. Julia, please don’t give up on me. I’ll call you
later tonight.”

She let her silence and another quick turn on her heels serve as her answer. Marching off toward the couch she had spied,
Julia balled her fists tight and prayed for strength as the memories came rushing back, the same ones that had haunted her
since the day Maxwell first appeared at her office.

In his eyes at least, Julia knew she was every bit as unattractive, as undesirable, as she was the day he ignored her teenage
pleas of affection. Something had driven Maxwell to fight it —to leave this woman he had impregnated —to date and even sleep
with Julia, but in the end no average black woman could compete with a true “American beauty.”

Settling onto the couch, she wiped back the first warm, bitter tear, determined not to allow another until she was home behind
closed doors.

M
oms, we’re so glad you’re home.” Their words coming out simultaneously, Heather and Hillary swarmed over Cassie the minute
she and Marcus stepped inside the Gillette home. Fighting back tears for the girls’ sake, Cassie patted each one’s face and
kissed them before sitting them down and making them update her on their respective days at school.

“I told you, there’s nothing more to discuss,” she told them a thousand times if she told them once. Days away from turning
thirteen, her daughters were too smart for their own good sometimes. Undeterred, they peppered her with legal questions about
the day’s court hearings and the defense strategies that had kept Cassie from having to await trial from a jail cell. Cassie
alternated between humoring their questions and trying to refocus the girls on what really mattered: God had answered their
prayers and had allowed their mother to remain free while the case related to her confession was adjudicated.

“We have big plans, Moms,” Hillary said. “We set up the hot tub for you, so you can soak as long as you want; then we’ll all
put on fuzzy bathrobes and watch two of your favorite movies downstairs, okay? We got
Down in the Delta
and
The Preacher’s Wife.
”

Cassie smiled. “You two do know your momma’s tastes, huh?”

“That’s not all,” Hillary replied. “We also got Black Forest cake for dinner.”

Raising her eyes at Marcus and M.J., who suddenly entered the family room together, Cassie shrugged playfully. “Do you hear
these two? What else is for dinner?”

“Oh, please,” Hillary said. “It’s all about the cake, Moms, and coffee of course. We’re celebrating —no need for a balanced
meal tonight!”

“Whatever, I’ll go along for the ride.” She looked tentatively at her husband and son. “Will the two men in my life join the
fun?”

“Sorry, sweetie,” Marcus replied, stepping over to her and pecking a kiss onto her cheek. “You know I’m overjoyed about today,
but I’ve got a lot of work to catch up on.”

Cassie frowned. “Marcus, with all the craziness, we haven’t had real family time in weeks. Couldn’t you join us —”

“There are bills to be paid, sweetie.” Her husband’s tone was clipped, nearly monotone now, and Cassie caught the meaning.
Since her confession had hit the news, her real estate business had dried up more with each passing day. Her inventory of
listings was down only about 8 percent, but her backlog of potential clients was nearly nonexistent. She really wasn’t sure
how much of that was due to her preoccupation with her legal woes and how much was the result of the controversy swirling
around her, but either way she knew that pressure was mounting on Marcus to get his magazine profitable as soon as possible.
As he had told her after a dispiriting meeting with her accountant last week, “It looks like my income is no longer discretionary,
huh?”