A Love So Deep (12 page)

“A glass of lemonade will be fine. You better hurry; I think I’m going to faint from the heat.”

They laughed.

“Sorry, these old houses don’t have air conditioning. It gets hot, but the ocean breeze somehow cools us off.”

“Baby, get me that glass of lemonade and stop explaining.” They laughed again.

Rita watched as Graham poured the lemonade into the glass tumblers. Even the rhythm with which he poured turned Rita on. He had so much finesse and certainly would be a lucky catch for any woman, regardless of his age. Rita walked up to Graham and gently traced his back with her hand. Graham passed Rita her lemonade, pulled her to him, embraced her, and covered her full lips with his own. Then they sat, she sitting sideways on Graham’s lap, laughing and having the time of their lives.

They were so engrossed in their moment in time that neither Graham nor Rita heard the front door open. Upon taking a moment to exhale, they looked up, and before them stood seven pairs of eyes. The door closed with a bang.

Rita jumped up from Graham’s lap like a guilty party at the scene of the crime. Graham grabbed her arm, pulling her toward him as he stood.

“Daddy, what is this?” Deborah exclaimed, her eyes contorted and fingers pointing toward Graham and Rita.

“Hold on, now.”

“Liz, can you believe this? Mama’s not even cold in her grave, and this…”

“Watch it, baby girl, before you say something you’ll regret later.”

“Grant, take the kids to the car. Liz and I will be out in a minute.”

“I’ll be there in a moment,” Liz said to her husband, Riley.

The room was silent until the children, Grant, and Riley had closed the door behind them. After the door was completely closed, Deborah swung around and faced her father with hands dancing in the air and slender fingers pointed at the accused like small daggers ready to claw.

“I want an explanation, now, Daddy. Who is this woman disrespecting my mother’s house?”

“Deborah Ann, I’ve warned you. This is my house, and I won’t have you or anyone else come up in here and disrespect my guest.”

Deborah rolled her eyes Heavenward trying to fight back the tears. “Disrespecting your guest? Our mother just died, and you’ve got this two-bit floozie…”

Graham reached out a raised hand toward Deborah. “Don’t, Graham,” Rita begged. “I’ll leave. I understand.”

“No, Rita.”

“Get out, Rita or whatever your name is!” Deborah shouted.

“Stop it, Deborah,” Liz cut in. “Why don’t you give Daddy a chance to explain? I’m sure there’s a logical explanation for all of this.” She gave Graham a menacing look.

“We don’t have all day. Our families are waiting out in the car. Came by because we were concerned about your ass…”

“We just got out of church, Deborah.”

“Shut up, Liz. You’re not even helping.”

“I’m waiting, Daddy, or are you my daddy?”

“That’s enough, Deborah,” Liz said. “I want to hear what Dad has to say, too.”

“Can we sit down like adults? Yes, I’d like to give you an explanation.” Turning toward Rita, Graham gently took her shaking hand and asked her to sit. “This is Rita Long, a friend of mine.”

“Umph,” Deborah muttered.

“We met this week, and we found that we had a lot in common. You both know that I loved your mother with all of my heart and soul—I still love her the same. I didn’t think that there would ever be anyone who could ever take her place.” Treading cautiously, Graham continued, “I believed never would.” Graham could feel Rita flinch. “I lost my best friend, my reason for living and these past two months have been so hard on me…”

“Like it hasn’t been hard on anyone else,” Liz uttered through her teeth.

Graham ignored the comments and plowed on. “I wanted to give up on life, but your uncle Charlie put the fear of God in me—I know what you’re thinking, but he did. And I realized that my two daughters, my son-in-laws, and my precious grandchildren still needed me. So I listened to Charlie and I got up and went to church last Sunday, because I knew that was where my strength lay.

“God also put someone in my path that could understand what I was going through.”

“Yeah, right,” Deborah moaned.

“Rita isn’t just anyone, she’s a special person with a gift for listening,” Graham said, ignoring Deborah.

“Well, Ms. Long, what do you have to say for yourself? Where do you come from? What do you do?” Deborah asked, hands on her hips in her Sunday go-to-meeting outfit that was ready to come off at any time. “You see, my mother, Amanda Peters, was a virtuous woman, well respected in her church and in the community. She loved my daddy, and she’d never do anything to hurt him. She was his sunrise and sunset; you get my meaning, Ms. Long? Their love was deeper than the ocean.”

Rita and Graham glanced at each other.

“My mother has been dead for only two months—the memory of her passing is still fresh in my memory, and I just wonder why my dad brought you into this house, this house that’s filled with memories of my mother.”

Deborah sat down. Holding her face in her hands, the tears streamed down her face. Liz rushed to her side, rubbing her back to comfort. Liz looked at Graham without a word.

Deborah rose from the chair, waved her hand around the room, and looked straight into Rita’s eyes. “Ms. Long,” Deborah said, pointing, “see these curtains and all the flower arrangements and knick-knacks that are all throughout this house? They’re Mama’s. She loved pretty things. Ask Daddy.”

Rita stepped forward, now only inches from Deborah. “I can’t fully understand your pain…”

“Hell no you can’t!” Deborah shouted.

“But I want you to know that your father and I are just friends. I’m just a friend who lent a shoulder, a shoulder so that he could shed some of his burdens and move on with his life.”

Liz and Deborah stared at Rita like she was a freak at a traveling carnival.

“Whatever you may think of me, I hope you understand that I’m not trying to take your daddy away from you or disrespect your mother’s memory. I’m just being a friend.”

“What do you do, Ms. Long? How did you meet my dad?” Liz asked rather politely.

“I’m a singer,” Rita nearly whispered. “We met at a local club.”

“Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!” Deborah yelled, voice trembling and arms swinging wildly in the air. “A nightclub singer? Daddy, are you for real? What are the people at church going to say?”

“I really don’t give a damn what anybody says,” Graham said. “I’ve put up with just about enough of your outbursts. I’ve tried to tell you how I feel, but I’m not going to be disrespected in my own home.”

“Daddy,” Liz interjected, “I’ve listened and have gone over every detail in my head. Why now? Did it have to be so soon?”

Graham grabbed Elizabeth and hugged her. She cried uncontrollably. Rita felt terrible and would never come have here if she knew she’d be playing out a scene from
All My Children
or
One Life to Live
. She couldn’t take much more. On the edge of her last nerve, she was ready to leave—perhaps never to return. Rita watched Graham and his daughters. She understood their hurt, their pain, and their love for a mother who had been more than faithful to them; however, the treatment she received was uncalled for, and it was leaving a scar on her heart.

Everyone’s head turned when they heard the familiar voice—a voice that no one wanted to hear right here, right now.

“How you all doing? Just came by to see if Deacon Peters needed anything. Why are you all looking at me like that? The door was open.”

“Sister Ross, right now is not a good time,” Graham uttered as gently as he could. “Why don’t you call tomorrow? We’re having a family meeting.”

“Oh, I see,” Mary Ross said. “I can wait in the living room until you all are finished.”

“Sister Ross, please go home,” Deborah said, none too kind.

And Sister Mary Ross left the kitchen briskly. She was just about on her way out when she turned on her heels, spotted the comfortable overstuffed loveseat and plopped on it. Being ignored for a minute too long, Sister Mary eased up from the chair and found her way back into the kitchen.

Rita watched blindly as Deborah continued her attack on Graham, willing her ears to shut and block out all the senseless chatter. Sister Mary Ross, who’d been shown the door over ten minutes ago, had the nerve to throw her arms on her somewhat shapely hips and strike a pose—ready to come to Deborah’s defense if needed. Mary was a little common, Rita thought, but it was plain to see that she’d relish being in Rita’s position if given half the chance.

There was something different, Rita noticed, about Elizabeth. Rita could almost see Amanda in Liz, although the only thing Rita knew about Amanda was what Graham had shared with her. Liz had a calming spirit, humble, almost angelic, and while she shared her sister’s concern, Liz assumed the role of mediator. She was compassionate, yet stern.

Rita looked down at her watch and gasped in alarm.

“I’m sorry for all that I’ve caused, but I really must go, Graham. I’m late for my rehearsal, and I’m sure the band is wondering what’s happened to me.”

“Okay, Rita, let’s go,” Graham said. “We’ve got to be going; however, if you want to continue this discussion,” Graham said, directing his remark at Deborah, “we can get together later.” Graham turned to Rita and offered his apologies for his girls.

“No need to apologize for us,” Deborah ranted. “I’ve been going over all of this in my mind, and I just don’t understand…”

“Another time, Deborah. I must get Rita to rehearsal.”

As Graham and Rita tried to plow through the group, Deborah tapped Rita on the shoulder. “I have just one question for you. Where did you say you worked?”

“I didn’t,” Rita said smugly. “But if you’d like to know, we’re appearing at The Water Hole.”

“Don’t start, Deborah,” Liz cut in, anticipating her sister’s next outburst. “Let them go.”

Rita kept her eyes straight ahead as she and Graham moved from the kitchen to the living room and away from the lynch mob that besieged them. Just as Graham pulled open the door, Rita suddenly realized she’d forgotten something.

“Graham, I forgot my things in the closet.”

Rita’s timing was all wrong. This time, only three pairs of eyes stared back at her, but they were the unfriendliest eyes she’d seen in a long time. They followed Graham as he proceeded down the hall, until his eventual return holding a garment bag that belonged to Rita Long. Now the three pairs stared at the two sets of eyes that dared anybody to say a word.

Deborah’s head moved like a mechanical bull that was just getting warmed up. The steam from her nostrils began to flare. The pinkness of her gums harbored a set of teeth well taken care of through the years. But sometimes the well-manicured mouth speaks before the mind knows what it’s going to say. “Hold up, hold up. Wench…did you sleep with my father?”

Rita summoned all of her social decorum and her mama’s wonderful home training. Sistergirl had crossed the line, and she was asking for a sho ‘nuf smack-down. Rita could care less whose daughter she was. But Rita was a lady in every way, and fighting wasn’t in her, although little Ms. Deborah Peters-Hill had provoked her to the brink. “You’ve already asked your last question.”

“It’s none of your damn business,” Graham jumped in, his tone angry. “I should have put a stop to this ridiculous circus earlier.”

“Deacon Peters!” Sister Mary exclaimed.

“Sister Ross, goodbye,” everyone said in unison.

“I’m not having any more of this,” Graham continued after Sister Mary Ross was out of earshot. “If anyone in here does not like what I’m doing, you can march out of here right now and not come back. I won’t even be mad.”

“Stop it, Graham,” Rita pleaded. “Stop it.” She turned to Deborah and Liz who hadn’t said a word in the past two seconds. “Your dad is a good man who loved your mother with all of his heart. His heart has been broken, in case you haven’t noticed.” Rita watched as the girls rolled their eyes like disobedient teenagers. “But he deserves better than this.

“Your dad has been so lonely since your mother passed, and the only thing he’s guilty of is allowing someone to nourish his soul, albeit through song. I saw your dad sitting at a table silent and unmoving in an audience of party-goers who were having a good time in a place your father didn’t relish. But his best friend Charlie tried the best he could to help your dad out of his funk and ended up at The Water Hole.