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Authors: Wanda B. Campbell

Doin' Me (22 page)

BOOK: Doin' Me
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Chapter
35
“Son, you couldn't putt the ball if your life depended on it,” Judge Stokes teased. “I don't know why you throw away your money every month. You should donate the money to one of your mother's charities. That may help you get back on her good side.” Judge Stokes was in a jovial mood, and Tyson was depressed.
“Whatever, Dad. I come here because you're here and I want spend time with you, but if you prefer I not come, I won't.” Tyson sat on the golf cart and watched his dad hit the golf ball twenty feet.
Judge Stokes whistled and admired his shot, then joined his son on the golf cart but didn't start the ignition. “You've been in a funk for weeks, actually since you broke up with Mylan. Do you want to tell me what's going on?”
Tyson huffed and folded his arms. The juvenile behavior was uncharacteristic, but he couldn't help it. Once again his life lay in limbo, thanks to Reyna Mills. Checking into that recovery center served two purposes: it helped her get over her issues and it helped him avoid dealing with his. Managing a breakup was easy when the other party wasn't around, but Reyna was scheduled to return home in two weeks.
They weren't an official couple when she betrayed him, but this split was more difficult than the first. He'd experienced contentment in the most intimate way with her, and the experience was everything he'd imagined it would be. He wanted more.
“I'm new at father-and-son bonding, but I think it works better when both parties participate in the conversation,” Judge Stokes said, interrupting his pity party.
Despite his best efforts to resist, Tyson chuckled. “Did you say ‘funk'? I didn't know that was in your vocabulary.”
“At least I got a laugh out of you. Are you going to tell me what's funkin' ya?”
Tyson shook his head. He wasn't being stubborn. He just didn't know how to tell his father he'd screwed up his life again, chasing someone who didn't want him.
Judge Stokes leaned back in the seat and rested an elbow on his son's shoulder. “I'm no expert at male-female relationships, but let me take a stab at this. You broke up with Mylan to be with that Rachal girl, who lived in your place. That didn't work out, so now you're selling the town house.”
This time Tyson laughed out loud.
“Well, am I right?” the judge asked expectantly.
“No, but close,” Tyson admitted.
“Well, straighten your old man out.”
Tyson stared at his father, amazed. At times he found it hard to believe the cool, laid-back man his father had transformed into was the same stoic man who had raised him.
“First of all, I didn't break up with Mylan. She broke up with me. It wouldn't have worked, anyway. It's
Reyna,
not Rachal. No, it didn't work out between us, but that's only partially the reason I'm selling the town house.” He spared his father the details of the damage Peyton and Reyna had caused. “Before you ask, yes, I still love her, but I'm sure it's over this time.”
“But you don't want it to be,” the judge observed. “That's why you're out here, pouting like a five-year-old who's lost his toy. If you love her that much, then go and fix what's wrong.”
“What?” Tyson said, leaning forward. “I thought you said, and I quote, ‘Marry someone who loves you. She'll make a good home. Love can come later.'”
“I told you, I'm not the relationship guru.” The judge slapped his shoulder, but Tyson failed to see the humor. The judge sobered. “Look, son, your mother and I liked Mylan, but this is your life. You have to live it the best way you see fit. If your heart is with Reyna, then that's where the rest of you should be. Your mother and I want you to be happy so we can have some grandkids.”
“It's not that simple,” Tyson noted. “I know where my heart is, but I don't know where hers is.”
Judge Stokes smirked at his son. “When I was in law school, they taught us how to ask questions.” He shook his head and started the cart.
“Reyna's away right now.”
He shifted the gear into drive. “Is she studying abroad or something?”
Tyson didn't believe in sugarcoating anything. Besides, this was his chance to test the truth of his father's previous statement. “She's away at a treatment center for alcohol abuse.”
The cart came to a lurching halt.
 
 
When Tyson pulled up to Kevin's house, he was still amused at his father's response to his dilemma. He'd never seen his father so indecisive. The judge had flip-flopped three times on his position before he'd relented. “You gave up Mylan for an alcoholic?” he'd asked at least ten times by the time they'd returned to the parking lot. Condescending and encouraging statements, everything from “Well, if you really love her . . .” to “Have you lost your mind?” had filled the trip back to his parents' estate.
“I've got to start going to church so I can pray for you,” his father had said, exiting his car.
Tyson had put his father's worries to rest before he closed the car door. “Dad, you have nothing to worry about. I love Reyna, but we're not meant to be.”
Laughter had poured from Tyson when his father looked toward heaven and yelled, “Hallelujah!”
“Hey, sis.” He side hugged Marlissa before entering the house. “Where's my godson?” Unable to spend time with Kevin Jr. for two weeks, thanks to back-to-back court cases, he missed him terribly. The energetic baby never failed to sooth his spirit just by gurgling at him.
“He's out back, on the deck. Mother Scott is holding Bible study.”
“What?”
“I'm joking. Actually, she's reading Bible stories to him. Kevin's out there to make sure she doesn't start teaching him how to speak in tongues before he learns to say ‘Daddy.'”
“He's going to need backup.” Tyson laughed, then started for the deck.
Marlissa's firm grip on his forearm stopped him. “Can I speak to you for a minute?”
He noted the concern in her voice and gave her his undivided attention. “What's up?”
“Have you spoken with Reyna lately? She's due home in a couple of weeks.”
Just what he didn't need: another reminder of her pending arrival. “I haven't, and I don't plan to. She returned the keys. There's nothing left for us to discuss.”
“Sit down and listen to me,” she ordered, pointing at a stool at the kitchen counter.
He obeyed and mentally braced for a Marlissa Jennings drama moment. Surely neck rolling and finger wagging would be involved.
She didn't disappoint him.
“I don't know exactly what happened between you and Reyna. I'm sure she did something foul, because that's who the old Reyna was—foul and trifling. She's saved now, and I see a real change in her. You need to cut her some slack. You've been in love with that girl too long not to give her another chance.” She leaned in closer. “You know you want to. That's why you sent roses for her birthday last week.”
“Which she failed to thank me for,” he threw out like a spoiled brat.
She slapped his shoulder. “Did you or did you not tell the girl you didn't want to hear from her again?”
Tyson shook his head. His circle of friends was too small. “You're assuming she cares about me.”
She planted her fists at her waist. “And you thought I belonged on a big yellow bus?” She was referring to when she and Kevin were having communication problems. “Look, bro,” she said, her voice more calm now, “I know what she's going through. I used to be an alcoholic too, remember?”
He let the rhetorical question hang and waited for her to continue.
“I know what it's like to have so much hurt bottled inside that you'll do anything to numb the pain, even if that means hurting those closest to you. Whatever she did, it wasn't from her heart. It was from a place of fear and pain.”
“That's right,” Mother Scott cosigned, coming in from outside.
Marlissa stepped back and let her take over.
“Oh, God,” he grumbled, throwing his hands in the air. “I didn't come for this.”
“She was acting like sinners act.” Mother Scott went on a tangent. “I don't know why church folk get mad at sinners for doing what sinners do. They wouldn't be sinners if they didn't sin. Church folk always want sinners to act like them.”
“That's not it,” he said, trying to interrupt.
“That's part of it.” Mother Scott pressed forward like she was the one who had initiated the conversation. “Your biggest problem is you haven't learned how to love unconditionally yet. I told you that months ago, before the mess got started, but you didn't listen to me. I know what really happened, and it's not as black and white as you think. Yes, she lied and deceived you, but there's more to the story.” She glared at him. “You know what? You ain't squeaky clean, either. Your flesh done got you in trouble a time or two.”
Tyson shifted on the stool.
Mother Scott went on. “You need to stop lying to yourself. You're hurt and angry, but you want to be with that girl. If you didn't want her, you wouldn't be footing the bill with Kevin for her stay at that fancy resort.”
Tyson feigned innocence. “Mother, what are you talking about?”
“Don't play with me. Who do you think told Jewel to call you in the first place? She called asking me to pray for the Lord to send her a financial miracle so she could pay for Reyna's recovery. I said, ‘What do we need to pray for? We already got Tyson and Kevin, a lawyer and a doctor. A negotiator and a healer.' Y'all just needed to sit down and negotiate how to pay for the healing.'”
Marlissa leaned over the counter, laughing.
Tyson refused to give vent to the merriment bubbling inside for fear he'd start bawling like a baby. Mother Scott had read him correctly. If this wasn't his life, the scenario would be hilarious. Loving Reyna was the thorn in his flesh. He'd sought the Lord more times than he could count, yet the Lord hadn't seen fit to remove Reyna from his heart. Was God's grace truly sufficient?
“I'm going to see my godson,” he said and headed once again for the deck.
 
 
Later that night, while checking his e-mail, Tyson learned he did indeed have the capacity to love unconditionally.
The subject line simply read: From Reyna.
Before opening the message, he prayed, asking God to open his heart and to direct him on how to deal with her.
Hello Tyson,
Thank you for the flowers on my birthday. The yellow roses were beautiful. I know you said you didn't want to hear from me again, but I made you a promise.
Let me start by saying I'm sorry for lying to you and hurting you. It wasn't on purpose; I'll explain that in a moment. I should have told you the truth about Peyton from the beginning. I should have done many things differently, but I can't change that now. I can only move forward.
The morning after we spent the night together, I had every intention of telling you everything. That's why I asked you to come over.
Then Peyton showed up. He was supposed to have moved out the day before, but he showed up, begging for money to buy drugs. I refused, and when I ripped your check to keep him from trying to cash it, we fought. In short, he sexually assaulted me, and I got drunk to deal with it. That's what you walked in on, the aftermath. Before that afternoon I hadn't been intimate with Peyton in over two months, since I found him with Laci, the married woman he died with. He wouldn't have touched me again had he not forced himself on me.
What I'm trying to say is, after being with you, I couldn't be with him or anyone else. That night, in your bed for the first time, I experienced what real love is. As delectably sinful as it was, being with you awakened a dormant part of my soul, and I wanted to experience life with only you. I didn't say it then for so many foolish reasons, but I love you and have loved you for a long time.
Now, about that promise. I'm pregnant. Before you get upset and delete this message, I didn't find out until yesterday, when I threw up breakfast for the second day in a row. The facility nurse performed a pregnancy test, and, well, I'm around ten weeks or so, according to dates. I won't string you along or hurt you further by pretending this baby is yours. I don't know who fathered this child, you or Peyton. As you know, we didn't use a condom, and of course, neither did Peyton. The odds are in your favor since we were together first and Peyton was using cocaine. I'm rooting for you. I'll have a paternity test as soon as possible.
I'll be home in two weeks. If the baby is yours, I hope we can put the past behind us and work together. I don't want my child growing up in the same dysfunction I did.
Talk to you soon,
Your baby momma (maybe) LOL
P.S. Sorry for the long message
Tyson read the message three times before picking up the phone and dialing his parents' home.
“Hey, Dad. What's that you and Mom were saying about grandchildren?”
“Bev!” his father yelled after Tyson informed him of Reyna's pregnancy. “We're joining church on Sunday so we can learn how to pray for this boy.”
Chapter
36
“Ma, I told you I didn't want a party,” Reyna said, pouting. “I just want to enjoy a quiet evening at home. I'm tired,” she whined.
Jewel pulled into the driveway. “Relax, baby.
I'm
not having a party.”
“No party, huh? Then what's all this?” Reyna waved her arms, indicating the cars lining the street on her mother's block.
Jewel downplayed Reyna's keen observation. “Oh, a few friends must have dropped by while I was gone.”
“A few friends? Yeah, right.”
Reyna's eyes rolled, but not because of anger or irritation. At that moment she couldn't be happier that a “few friends” had stopped by to welcome her home from the treatment center. No doubt everyone who had aided in her recovery was crammed inside her mother's ranch-style home. Kevin and Marlissa's Mercedes touched bumpers with Leon and Starla's minivan. A Lexus bearing the license plate DRAKE2 sat at the end of the driveway. Pastor Jennings's 1992 Cadillac DeVille was in its normal position—halfway on the curb nearest the living room window so she could look out for thieves. She didn't see Tyson's car.
“Reyna, you're like the prodigal daughter, and everyone's excited you're back. Be nice,” Jewel ordered. “We have a small family, but God has blessed us with people who love us and treat us like blood. Don't push them away.”
Reyna shook her mother's shoulder. “Oh, Ma, lighten up. I fed you that no party crap to make sure you'd give me one. I can't wait to see everyone.” She jumped out of the car and ran into the house. “I'm back!”
Just as she had hoped, the house overflowed with people who loved her and whom she'd grown to love and who were cheering for her.
“Look, Auntie Reyna. We made this for you.” Leon and Starla's sons unrolled the
WELCOME HOME
sign.
Reyna loved the homemade sign, but their name selection touched her heart. Auntie Reyna was officially part of their family. She squatted and hugged them. “Thank you.”
“Sis, come here and give me a hug,” Kevin said from behind.
Pastor Jennings, Leon, and Marlissa followed suit, offerings hugs and kisses.
“I need to find a church home,” Reyna said when Pastor and First Lady Drake greeted her. “I would join Restoration Ministries, but I don't know if I can handle a gangsta first lady,” Reyna teased.
“What are you talking about?” Pastor Drake asked, looking bewildered.
“She's just teasing, baby,” the first lady assured her husband. Then she whispered in Reyna's ear, “Remind me to teach you not to tell everything,” then steered him away.
Reyna doubled over with laughter.
“I don't know what she said, but I'm sure she meant it,” Starla commented behind her.
Reyna turned, but before hugging Starla, she noticed her necklace. Starla was wearing the beaded necklace Reyna had made. She looked around the room again; all the ladies had on one of her designs. Reyna beamed with pride; she'd made something beautiful with her hands, instead of using them for destruction.
“I love you guys, all of you,” Reyna told the crowd. “Thank you so much for being there for me. I don't know what I would have done without you—”
“We love you too,” Mother Scott interrupted, coming from the kitchen, carrying a glass of milk. “Now, get somewhere and sit down before you tire yourself out. Here. Drink this. You need the calcium for the baby.”
Mortified, Reyna gulped the milk down but noticed no one seemed disturbed by Mother Scott's announcement. She handed Mother Scott back the empty glass and sought the guilty party, but Jewel was nowhere to be found. “Chicken,” Reyna mumbled.
“So, I guess everyone knows I'm pregnant,” she said out loud, wondering how much information her mother had disclosed. She'd shared the complete details of the baby's conception.
“Girl, sit down,” Mother Scott ordered, pointing at the one empty chair. Reyna obeyed. “That's old news. We've already selected the baby shower date. Now, tell us your experience at that fancy resort.”
God, you are so amazing,
Reyna thought. Although she had accepted the pregnancy with optimism, she'd worried about how her friends would receive the news, especially since she was unemployed, unwed, and didn't know whose name belonged on the birth certificate as the baby's father. These people didn't care; they loved her and would love her baby.
After sharing highlights of how the recovery center had changed her life, she dropped her own bombshell.
“As soon as I recover from having the baby, I'm going back to school to finish my master's. It may take me a few years to do it, with finances and tending to a small child, but I am going to finish my graduate degree and open a practice. I'm going to be a family therapist.”
The room erupted with praise and cheers. Jewel got so caught up in praise, she danced in the spirit.
“First Lady,” Mother Scott said, “Look at how the Lord is blessing and growing our family. You and I barely finished high school, but look what He gave us. A contractor, a doctor, a lawyer, a judge, and now a family therapist. God sho' is good.”
“Yes, He is,” First Lady Drake affirmed. “Effectual fervent prayer gets results.”
“Amen,” Reyna started to say, but asked, “Who's going to be a judge?”
“Let me update you on the latest breaking news around here,” Kevin said before anyone answered. “Guess who closed down their church and joined Restoration Ministries?”
“What?” Reyna gasped and looked at Pastor Jennings. “I don't believe it. You closed your church? That's a miracle.” For years the small congregation had been Pastor Jennings's life and identity.
“I'm a witness to the fact that miracles never cease to happen,” replied Pastor Jennings. “After Sunday service two weeks ago, I locked the door, called my Realtor, and placed the building up for sale. Your mother and I joined Restoration Ministries the next Sunday.”
“You should have closed that church years ago. You only had ten members, and three of them were bedridden,” Mother Scott threw out to the merriment of the group.
“Mother,” Pastor Drake warned.
“I'm just saying, Pastor,” Mother Scott said in her own defense. “Rosalie, you know we're happy to have you. Now that you're saved for real, you can join the prayer team, but you need to learn how to rightly divide the Word before you teach Bible study.”
Reyna shook her head. Never had she imagined that Pastor Rosalie Jennings would meet her match.
“Hello, everybody.”
Reyna's breath caught when Tyson entered the house, wearing black jeans with a pullover sweater and carrying a dozen red roses. She attempted to downplay the effect he had on her by pretending she didn't see him.
“Stop frontin',” Starla whispered in her ear. “You know you want to see your baby's daddy.”
Reyna threw caution to the wind. “Tyson,” she hollered and ran to him, jumping on him and wrapping both arms and legs around him. She buried her head against his neck and sniffled. “You came. I'm so happy to see you. I can't believe you came.”
Marlissa relieved him of the roses, allowing him to hold Reyna with both arms.
He brushed his lips against her cheek. “You thought I wouldn't be here? I had to pick up my parents. That's why I'm late.”
The sniffles stopped. “Your parents are here?”
“This is a special day. Of course they're here.”
In slow motion, Reyna peeked around Tyson's shoulder and looked into faces of the Honorable Judge Stokes and Mrs. Stokes. Thoroughly embarrassed, Reyna slid down Tyson's body to everyone's amusement.
Once she was resting on her feet, Tyson pulled her to his side by hooking her waist with his hand and faced his parents. “Mom, Dad, this is Reyna.”
Confused but pleased by Tyson's possessive action, Reyna stuttered. “N-nice to see you again, Your Honor, Mrs. Stokes.”
Judges Stokes patted her shoulder. “We're practically family, so no need to be so formal. Judge is fine.”
“Reyna, I'm sorry, I can't recall meeting you before, but I look forward to getting to know you. Please call me Bev.”
“Okay,” Reyna answered pensively, still stuck on the judge's remark about being family.
“Now that Tyson's here, we can get this show on the road,” Jewel announced from the kitchen doorway. “Reyna, sit down so the man can handle his business.”
“What business?” Reyna wanted to know, but no one answered.
“Come on, sweetheart. Have a seat,” Tyson coaxed.
His mother walked alongside Reyna back into the living room. “How are you feeling? I hope the morning sickness isn't too bad. I suffered horribly with Tyson.”
“I'm surprised he told you about my pregnancy,” Reyna replied.
“Of course he did. The judge and I are dying for grandchildren. I'd kill him if he kept something like this from me. Your mother and her friends and I have already planned the baby shower. The only thing left for you to do is select the color scheme.”
The air seeped from Reyna's lungs as she sank into a chair. What was going on? Tyson's parents were under the impression the child she carried was their grandchild, and so was everyone else. She glared at her mother for an explanation, but Jewel smiled like all was right with the world. This was not right; she couldn't deceive them. What about Tyson? He was the one who had initiated this mess by involving his parents. He hadn't responded to her e-mail about the pregnancy; up until now she wasn't sure if he'd received it.
She touched his hand and motioned for him to come nearer. He bent his ear to her mouth. “Exactly why are your parents here?”
“To meet the mother of their grandchild,” he answered without hesitation. “And, if you accept my proposal, their future daughter-in-law.”
Reyna's jaw dropped at the same time Tyson dropped to his knee. A hush hovered over the room when he removed a diamond solitaire from his pocket.
“Reyna Mills, I love you. Will you marry me?”
“Is that all you got?” Leon said. “Man, I've got to work with you.”
“Son, even I could have done better than that,” the judge commented.
Everyone but Reyna poked fun at Tyson's lackluster proposal. It was perfect for her. Although simple, it offered the two things she desired most: love and commitment. Unfortunately, she couldn't accept, not yet, anyway.
She leaned forward. “Did you read the e-mail I sent you?” Reyna asked through clenched teeth, hoping no one else heard.
“Yes,” Tyson answered emphatically.
“The whole e-mail?”
Tyson kissed her forehead. “Of course I read the entire message. In fact, I read the part where you admit you love me every night, before I go to bed.”
Reyna's jaw fell once again. “Excuse us for a few minutes,” she told the group. “I need to have a word with Tyson in private.”
“I don't know why y'all need to talk in private,” Mother Scott stated. “Seems to me, y'all done had too many private meetings,” she said, nodding at Reyna's stomach.
“Mother,” Pastor Drake warned, although he chuckled along with the rest of the group.
“Y'all know, I'm just giving y'all a hard time,” Mother Scott admitted. “But we're not leaving right now.” Mother Scott folded her arms. “We haven't eaten yet.”
“Son, why don't you and Reyna go into her room and talk?” Jewel suggested.
“Thanks, Mom,” Tyson said and stood to assist Reyna.
Reyna's head snapped from her mother to Tyson. “
Mom? Son?
Since when did you become so chummy?”
Jewel waved away Reyna's concern. “You know I've always liked Tyson. After he asked me for your hand in marriage, I couldn't help but adore him.” Jewel looked contemplative. “I'm not sure why he asked my permission to marry you, considering he didn't find it necessary to ask my permission to knock you up.”
Again, the room erupted with laughter, everyone joining in except Reyna. She grabbed Tyson's hand and stomped down the hallway. Had both Tyson and her mother lost their minds? They both knew there was a fifty-fifty chance that she was carrying Peyton's baby. And Mother Scott . . . what had happened to her keen discernment? Surely the Lord had revealed the odds to her.
“Tyson, what's going on?” she asked as soon as they stepped inside her old bedroom and closed the door. “Why did—” Tyson's kiss sucked the words from her mouth. She thought to resist, but he felt too good and it had been too long. She yielded and enjoyed the ride, with her back against the door.
“I've been waiting months to taste your lips again,” he moaned once he finished feasting. “I missed you so much, sweetheart.” He cupped her face and drank some more, then asked, “What day do you want to get married?”
“Why do you think I'm going to marry you?”
“You told me so, and I quote, ‘I wanted to experience life with only you.'”
“Leave it to a lawyer to remember details.” Reyna stepped away and walked over to the bed. She pointed to her abdomen. “I'm not exactly good marriage material at the moment. I have a lot of baggage.”
“You also have potential, and I have big walk-in closets,” he teased. “I'm not backing down.”
“Tyson, I want to spend my life with you,” she admitted. “But I won't hurt you further by lying to you.” She paused and turned away. “Like I said in the e-mail, I don't know who the father of this baby is. I had sex with both of you within twenty-four hours. I want it to be you, really I do, but I just don't know. I can't do this to you.”
BOOK: Doin' Me
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