Guilty of Love (28 page)

“
I don’t know what’s going
on with her.” Malcolm rested his fork. “She won’t talk to me, so
who knows what’s on her mind.”

“
What?” Everyone’s voice
was unanimous.

Charlotte stood. “Honey, talk to your
sons. They’re losing more than good women. They are losing their
minds. Cameron, come in the kitchen and talk to me.”

Alone, their father pushed away from
his half-empty plate, and motioned for Parke and Malcolm to join
him in the game room. The elder Parke relaxed in his favorite
recliner and pointed a remote at the fifty-inch projection
television monitor. Snarling, he clicked off the beginning of the
Detroit Lions and Tennessee Titans football game.

Not a good sign. Dad never lets
anything or anyone interrupt a Lions game,
Parke thought,
jamming his hands inside his pants pockets. He moseyed to the sofa.
Malcolm stood at the other end. Both brothers exchanged looks
before slumping into their seats.

Their dad stared sternly at them, then
in a quiet, controlled voice, “I want to know what is going on with
you two. Malcolm, I’m shocked—no, make that disappointed about this
development. What happened? I know you’re in love with
Hali.”

“
Yeah, I guess I am.”
Malcolm gritted his teeth, trying to keep a blank face.

“
If you have to guess, then
I guess you’re not,” the elder Parke snapped. “PJ, if Cheney isn’t
the one, then who is? There’s something about her. She’s the
closest woman to your equal that I’ve seen. What are you searching
for, son?”

Parke didn’t want to answer that. He
would give anything for a distraction, even taking out the trash
rather than discuss Cheney. He leaned back on the sofa and sighed.
“I’m looking for a woman who is beautiful, intelligent, and can
have kids, which isn’t Cheney.”

His father leaned forward, resting his
elbows on his knees, his eyes wide with surprise.
“What?”

Parke threw his arms up in the air.
“Yeah, Dad, I know. Can you believe that?”

“
What have you done, PJ?”
His father’s voice was laced with a reprimand.

“
Nothing, I mean, I still
care about her, but she can’t give me what I want.”

“
For some reason, I believe
she has more than what you deserve. Do you have any idea what it
means to have the right woman walking with you through life’s joys,
dreams, and pain?”

Pain. Why did you have to mention
that word?
Parke thought, leaping up. He scurried to the
fireplace. Staring into the flames, he remembered the last time he
gazed into a fire. “Dad, haven’t you been listening? Cheney can’t
give me a child.”

His father stood, almost height for
height, but eye to eye. He spoke in a low, steady tone. “I’m not
feelin’ you. I’ve watched you jump from woman to woman, but you
seem rooted with her.” His dad patted his chest. “There’s a
connection between you two. I sensed that before I met her. You
spoke with pride and adoration. Your eyes twinkled when you
mentioned her name. Plus, you’ve become addicted to wanting to do
everything with and for her, so help me to understand why she’s not
the one.”

Great, a Cheney fan club moment. Parke
felt that special connection and the helplessness watching the raw
guilt eat away at her. The bottom line was that he needed children,
a son. What had he done in the past to sabotage that? “Dad,” he
said more forcefully than respectful, “you of all people know my
responsibility to this family.”

“
Your first responsibility
is to yourself. Paki endowed you with knowledge, strength, and
determination to achieve anything, son, anything. Elaine’s love
filled him with so much hope. They created a harmony many couples
can’t achieve today.”

Did his father want the Diomande tribe
leadership in America to end because of Parke’s wrong choices? As
much as Cheney fascinated him, she wasn’t worth it.

“
PJ, Malcolm, haven’t you
two learned anything from your heritage? Paki and Elaine endured
uncertainties to be together. Uncertainty precedes the future.
Elaine was determined to make Paki happy despite the ugliness
surrounding them. Paki considered her a beautiful jewel given to
him by the gods. She was worth more than his royal position in
Africa.”

The room became silent except for the
wood crackling. Parke dropped his head back and looked up at the
thick wood beams across the ceiling. There was no battle to win.
“How come you’re not in Malcolm’s business?”

“
You’re my firstborn. He’s
next. PJ, I don’t know why you or Cheney would believe she can’t
have kids.” He held up his hand before Parke could speak. “I don’t
want to know, but I believe Paki would have been happy if Elaine
didn’t have one child. She was his strength and inspiration to
live.”

The grandfather clock chimed. His
father squinted at the time, hinting of the game his sons were
keeping him from watching. “Now, what’s going on with you and my
girl Hallison? Please tell me it’s not over some
foolishness.”

Malcolm glanced between his father and
Parke. “Well, it’s kinda personal, Dad.”

“
Talking about a woman a
man cares about is always personal, but I need you and PJ to
understand me. If you love a woman, never let her get away. Fight
for her. Our conversation stays in this room.”

Malcolm didn’t speak right away as if
he was debating how to share his set of troubles. “We haven’t been
the same since our planned weekend getaway last month.” Malcolm
squeezed his lips together in hesitation, “Maybe, I was pushing
her. I mean, Hali is the epitome of a sexy woman—the way she
dresses, walks, and smells. I can’t keep my hands off my
woman.”

Looking every bit the family
patriarch, his father pointed his finger at Malcolm with a tired
expression. “I refuse to degrade Hallison by talking about your sex
life with her.”

“
No need to worry about
that. She was fine until we got to the Ritz. She freaked out. I
suggested separate rooms on a different floor and she took it. That
was our first argument. The next thing I know, she’s crying,
screaming we need a break from each other, and storms out. We went
to a park concert after that, but it wasn’t the same. Our
affections seemed forced. We haven’t been together
since.”

“
Women are emotional
creatures. If you love Hallison, try listening to her instead of
talking, son. Maybe something’s going on with her.”

“
You don’t know how many
messages I’ve left trying to convince her there’s no rush, she
dumped me, throwing my feelings away.”

The room was still as the elder Parke
focused on Malcolm. “Keeping your hands to yourself might help.
Women need to know you’re operating on more than your sex
drive.”

Malcolm nodded.

“
Do you love her?” Their
father asked Malcolm again.

“
Yes,” Malcolm answered in
the affirmative.

“
Then show her.” The elder
Parke grabbed his remote and aimed. “Now, go get my wife, so I can
enjoy this game.”

Two weeks after the ski
trip…

“
Grandma BB, if you dangle
one more Christmas light on this house, you’ll blow the city’s
transformer. Then the neighborhood will be in the black, thanks to
you.”

“
Chile, it ain’t Christmas
unless ya show off. Aren’t you going to decorate?” Mrs. Beacon
fussed, intertwining a rope of red Christmas lights with six feet
of garland.

Cheney laughed as she stacked plates
and bowls in Mrs. Beacon’s dishwasher. “And deprive my neighbor of
showing off? Nah, I wouldn’t think of it. Besides, your house will
be so bright, the wise men will be able to find us.”

“
You haven’t told me if you
called any of those doctors who were fighting over who would ride
beside you on that airlift at the resort.”

“
One doctor in the family
is enough. Remember, my loving dad is a doctor.” Cheney was almost
one-hundred percent certain her father had gotten a hold of her
medical files. There was no other explanation for her family’s
chill.

“
Doctor Byron Bates was
sexy, with his deep chocolate skin and sparkling white teeth. He
made me want to take my dentures out and bite him.”

Stunned, Cheney’s jaw dropped. “You
wear false teeth?”

“
Of course not. It’s the
only thing I’m willing to take off to impress him.”

“
Well, I’m not
interested.”

“
Hmm-mm, okay, forget the
doctor. How about that engineer fella—Jeff, Jeffery, or Jeremy,
something like that? He seemed interested and cute.” She patted her
hair. “In my day, a woman wouldn’t let a handsome, healthy, and
wealthy one slip away.”

“
You can have
him.”

Leaning on her knees, Mrs. Beacon
pointed her arthritic finger like she was gearing up for a
scolding, but her voice was soft and filled with compassion.
“What’s the matter, dear? Don’t you want to get married and have
children?”

Cheney was determined not to cry. “At
one time I wanted both.” She turned away and focused on the boxes
half-filled with decorations. “Now, neither is possible
.
”
I’m waiting on a sign, God,
she silently prayed.

“
It’s none of my business,
but for a while I thought Parke was sweet on you.”

“
Parke Jamieson is
interested in any woman.” Cheney shrugged nonchalantly.

“
He never gave me a second
look, and you know I’m adorable. At least call Eric, that computer
programmer. He had the cutest little rump.” She winked.

Her bluntness ceased to shock Cheney
anymore. It provided much needed humor, especially during her
darkest moments. “I bet you were something else in your
day.”

“
It’s still my day.” Mrs.
Beacon beamed.

They shared laughs until a phone call
interrupted them. Mrs. Beacon eyed the wall clock, but made no
attempt to answer the phone. Cheney did. “Hello?”

“
Jesus loves you.”
Click.

“
What an odd call.” Cheney
looked at the receiver. “Wrong number, I think it was a child
playing on the phone.”

“
It’s a prank call. I don’t
know her name, but for the past year, she’s been nagging me with
the same thing. I’ve been close to cursing her out, but she hangs
up.”

Cheney nodded. “Since we’re on the
subject of kids, I got a letter a few weeks ago before
Thanksgiving, asking if I was still interested in becoming a foster
parent. I’ve been thinking about becoming one for a while, so
they’re ready to begin processing my application.” She paused and
exhaled. “Would you be a reference and vouch for me?”

“
I love kids! Do you think
you can have ‘em by Christmas? As long as they aren’t Bebe’s
kids...” Mrs. Beacon started plotting. “That will give me a reason
for last-minute Christmas shopping, fighting over the last
PlayStation on the shelf—if we can get little girls, chile, we
could dress them awfully fancy.”

For the next thirty minutes, Mrs.
Beacon filled Cheney’s head with all the fun they were going to
have with small children, not once probing for more information.
Maybe Mrs. Beacon’s enthusiasm was the
sign.

Cheney was restless when she returned
home, so she sat at her desk and signed on to the computer. Maybe
Brian was on and they could play a game of checkers. She wasn’t in
a frame of mind to sit and read scriptures. Before long, she was
entertaining the ideas Mrs. Beacon had planted. “This is scary.
Grandma BB is rubbing off on me.”

Raking the bottom of her travel purse,
Cheney scrounged up all the numbers men had forced on her during
the ski trip. She dropped the business cards and scraps of paper
into a shoe box, stirred them, and withdrew a name. She took a deep
breath and went for it and punched in the number. “Raymond? Hi,
this is Cheney. We met in Niagara Falls.”

His voice seemed to rumble with
pleasure. “Ah, the beautiful Miss Reynolds, how are you? I’m glad
you called,” he replied, sounding sincere.

“
Are you?” Should she
believe him? Cheney wondered.

“
I am. How was your trip
home?”

“
Wonderful. My senior
citizen neighbor was my lively traveling companion. She was a speed
demon down the slopes during the day and the life of the party at
night.”

Raymond chuckled. “Miss B? Who could
forget her?”

“
That’s Grandma BB’s
trademark. Show up and show off.”

“
No harm done. She was
having a good time. So, did you enjoy yourself?”

“
Yes. Surprisingly, I
did.”

“
I hope I
contributed.”

What arrogance. Cheney wanted to
laugh. She loved his deep baritone voice, but his features were
jumbled. Even without a face, the game was the same. Flirt,
conquer, and move on. “Was that your goal, Raymond?”

“
No, it wasn’t. My cousin
needed another body to get the group rate, so I was coerced into
going at the last minute. I’m glad I did, because I met you, and
you called.”