The Ex Files (21 page)

Angel squinted as if she didn’t understand, didn’t remember. “No,” she began, “Daddy wasn’t in the bed with me.”

“Are you sure? Maybe he waited for you to go to sleep before he got in the bed.” She paused, looked squarely at Angel. “Before he got under the covers.”

“He was in bed with me?”

Asia nodded.

“Like when I’m in bed with you?”

“Yes, but it’s okay for mommies and daughters to be in bed together. But it’s not okay for a daddy to do it.”

“It’s not?”

Asia shook her head. “It’s like those things your teacher talked about.”

“Those bad things?” Angel’s eyes were wide.

Asia nodded—slow and long. “But let’s not talk about it anymore tonight, okay?”

Angel scooted under the covers. But her eyes were focused now, staring straight at her mother.

Asia kissed Angel’s forehead. “Goodnight, sweetie.” She reached toward the lamp, and Angel stopped her.

“Mommy, leave the light on.”

“Do you want me to stay in here until you go to sleep?”

“No, I’m a big girl.”

Asia kissed her daughter again before she left her alone. As she walked toward her bedroom, she forced herself to remember the plan. Remember Caroline. Remember Bobby.

Pounding footsteps on the carpet stopped all her thoughts.

“Mommy!” Angel jumped into her arms. “Can I sleep with you?”

“Of course, precious.” Asia carried Angel into her bedroom.

“It’s okay if I sleep in the bed with you, right, Mommy?”

“It’s definitely okay.” She tucked her daughter under the heavy duvet.

Angel snuggled against the soft sheets. She sighed, closed her eyes. But a moment later, she opened them. “It’s okay for mommies to sleep with girls,” she said. “It’s just not okay for daddies.”

Asia nodded, and turned away.

A
SIA

She was a woman with a plan.

Asia set the cereal bowl on the table. “Do you want a banana?”

Angel shook her head, picked up her spoon, and focused on the cartoon on the back of the cereal box.

Without taking her eyes from her daughter, Asia sat down and reached for the newspaper she’d left on the table. A moment later, she exclaimed, “Oh, no!”

Angel’s glance moved to her mother. “What happened?”

Asia sighed, shook her head. “Nothing.”

Just as quickly, Angel’s eyes returned to the cereal.

Asia said, “I cannot believe this man did this. I’m glad the police took him to jail.”

“What did he do?” Angel asked, without looking up.

“Bad things…to his daughter.”

Angel twisted slowly, faced her mother.

Asia continued, “That man was…touching his daughter.”

Angel’s eyes clouded—a mix of fear, confusion, surprise. “Like what Mrs. Bickle talked about in school?”

Asia nodded. “Doing all of those things that fathers aren’t supposed to do. Like this man, he was kissing his daughter.”

Angel lowered her eyes, dropped her spoon into her bowl.

Asia continued, “He was kissing her on her lips and fathers are only supposed to kiss their daughters on their cheeks. That’s one of the things that this bad daddy was doing.” Asia paused, tilted her head a bit. “Where does Daddy kiss you, Angel?”

Asia watched the thoughts behind her daughter’s eyes. Suddenly, Angel pushed her bowl aside, jumped from the chair, and scurried from the kitchen.

V
ANESSA

“You know, there’s something that I’d like to do,” Vanessa said.

The three women turned to her, their faces dressed with smiles.

“I think we should do something as a group, outside of church.”

It was as if she’d popped the air from a balloon.

Asia said, “Hold up. You’re not talking about us going out together, are you?”

“I’m not up for that.” Kendall shook her head as if she couldn’t think of a worse idea. “I’m sure none of you go to any of the places that I want to go.”

“And vice versa,” Asia said, her head and hands moving as if she had an attitude.

Sheridan rolled her eyes. “Vanessa, ignore these women and finish what you were saying.”

“Well, I’m certainly not talking about us going out and partying together.”

Asia’s eyes started at Vanessa’s shoes that were fit for the elderly and ended with the curls that sat atop her head like a cap. “I would hope not.”

Vanessa waved her hand, erasing Asia’s words. She was used to the young one. Knew her heart was much softer than her tongue. “Next week, let’s meet at my house. I’ll make dinner.”

“Why would you want to do that?” Asia asked.

“Well, you all have become quite important to me and I’d like to say thank you.”

“You don’t have to cook for me,” Kendall said. “Just say thanks, I’ll say you’re welcome, and we’ll be done.”

“I’d like to do a little more,” Vanessa pressed. “We can make it a celebration.”

“And what are we celebrating, exactly?” Asia asked.

“Our friendship. And life. You know, this life that God gives us is so precious. Maybe sometimes we should stop long enough to thank Him.”

Vanessa tried not to frown in the silence that followed, but it was difficult not to show the ache her heart felt with the way Kendall and Asia twisted in their seats, and kept their eyes away from her.

Sheridan jumped in, “That’s a really good idea, Vanessa. But would you mind if we waited a few weeks?”

“Yeah, let’s wait,” Kendall and Asia chimed in their agreement.

“Definitely. I don’t know what I was thinking. It was just a little idea.” Then, after a slight pause, “Excuse me.”

Vanessa heard their mumbles as she strolled toward the rest room. She’d really wanted to give this little dinner party, just like the ones she and Reed used to have all the time for their friends. But they’d rejected her. And now she wouldn’t have a way to say good-bye.

In the bathroom, she freshened her makeup, smoothed her curls. Then, with a sigh filled with resignation, she returned to the other ladies.

“Okay, let’s bow our heads,” Sheridan said, reaching for Vanessa’s hands.

As they closed their eyes, Vanessa didn’t. She wanted these last moments to look at the women she now called friends. These three were so different, yet they were so strong. If she had just a bit of their strength, then maybe…

She shook her head. She was fine just the way she was, the way God created her.

“Amen,” Sheridan said, and they all said “Amen” together.

“I’d like to add one more thing before we go,” Vanessa said.

Asia groaned.

“I don’t care what kind of noises you make, little missy. You’re going to stand right there and listen to what I have to say.”

Asia raised her eyebrows; Sheridan and Kendall laughed.

“You go, girl,” Kendall cheered.

Vanessa began, “All I wanted to say is that any time you want me to say an extra little prayer for you, any of you, just tell me.”

“Ah, that’s nice,” Kendall said.

“I mean it,” Vanessa said. “Even if I’m not here or you’re at home or at work, and you want me to say a prayer, just call my name, and I’ll do it.”

“Hold up.” Asia frowned. “How you gonna do that? You got some special powers you haven’t shared?”

Vanessa chuckled. “No, I just know we share a bond now and I’ll be able to hear you…no matter where I am.”

“Whatever.” Asia waved her hand. “I gotta get out of here.”

Minutes later, they were gathered in the parking lot.

“Have a great and blessed week, you guys,” Sheridan said.

They all responded with the same, but no one heard Vanessa add, “And have a blessed life,” before she slipped into her car.

S
HERIDAN

“Another fight?” Kamora tossed her golden weave over her shoulder. “You guys are going for the world record.”

Sheridan rolled her eyes at her best friend. “It’s not that bad,” she said, chomping on a Guadalajara hot dog. “Brock and I have actually gotten closer.”

“And so you fight?”

“When you grow close to someone, you learn more about them.”

“And so you fight?”

“It’s no big deal,” Sheridan waved her plastic fork before she stabbed a French fry. But she knew that wasn’t true—two weeks had passed without a word from Brock. That had never happened before.

“What did you fight about this time?”

“The usual,” Sheridan said, deciding to leave out the new factor—Quentin.

“He wants marriage and you want…” Kamora paused, waiting for Sheridan to finish.

“I want to marry him too.”

Kamora twisted her lips.

“I just don’t know what the rush is,” Sheridan added.

Kamora laughed. “You’ve been dating for three years. No woman keeps a man who wants to get married waiting for three years. That just doesn’t happen. No man would wait that long.”

“As if you know every man on the planet,” Sheridan said. “And Brock has waited.”

“Well, he won’t be waiting much longer.” Kamora rested her elbows on the table and leaned forward. “Come on, tell your best friend. Why don’t you want to marry that fine…” She shook her head as if there were no adequate words to describe him.

“I want to marry him, just not right now.”

“Why. Not. Now?”

Sheridan shrugged—the easy response to what had become a difficult question. There was just so much she needed to settle. There was Tori. And then her mother. And then, there was Quentin.

“Tell me it’s not still the age thing.”

Sheridan nodded. “A little. I still don’t believe he’ll be fine with never having children.”

“He told you he was fine with it.”

“That’s what he says now, but what happens when he changes his mind when I’m forty-five or fifty? There won’t be a darn thing I’ll be able to do then.”

“You need to take that man at his word. When a man says he’s not concerned about children, he’s not. Now, when a woman says it, don’t believe her. All women want children.”

“What about you?”

“Okay, maybe not all.” Kamora laughed. “But don’t change the subject. I’m trying to help you keep your man, because if you guys keep fighting, you’re certainly going to lose him.”

“Thanks for your confidence.”

“Just trying to help.”

“It sounds more serious than it is. We’re fine, really,” Sheridan said, as much to herself as Kamora.

Kamora chuckled. “Well, if you want my opinion—”

“I don’t.”

“When has that stopped me?” But then her smile went away. “I think you and Brock have problems. Be careful.”

“Careful? If you love someone, shouldn’t you be free to speak the truth about what you’re feeling?”

“Girl, please. The only man who wants to hear the truth is God and believe me, if He didn’t already know it, He wouldn’t want to hear it either. Men only want to hear what they want to hear.”

“Brock’s not that way.”

Kamora rolled her eyes. “Girlfriend, it’s not like you have a lot of experience. You’ve been with two men in your life. I’m an expert if only by the number of men I’ve slept with.”

“You’re bragging about this?”

“You know I’ve been changed,” Kamora said, as she pulled up the spaghetti strap of her cheetah-print minidress. “But that doesn’t negate my experience. I know what men want and…”

Sheridan chewed on her hot dog as Kamora lectured on. She didn’t speak aloud the questions she had for her best friend—like if Kamora knew so much about men, why did she change them like underwear? Sheridan couldn’t count the number of men Kamora had fallen in love with in the twenty-some-odd years they’d been friends. What was worse, she was sure Kamora wouldn’t know the number either.

“So, listen to me,” Kamora continued. “Go home, call Brock, tell him what he needs to hear.”

For once, Sheridan agreed with her friend. This had lingered long enough. Brock needed to know, needed to understand that she did love him.

I’ve always known that I still love you
.

She frowned as Quentin’s words invaded her thoughts, but she shook them away. There was no place for Quentin, no place for his words.

She opened her purse and placed a twenty-dollar bill on the table. She stood. “I’m going to get my man.”

Kamora grinned. “Go on, girl.” She waved Sheridan away. “Next time I see you, I want to hear a wedding date!”

Sheridan laughed, but said nothing. She wasn’t sure about that part. But there was one thing she knew. By the end of this day, there would be no doubt in Brock’s mind. He would know who she truly loved.

Sheridan eased her car behind Brock’s truck just as her cell phone chirped. She glanced at the screen, frowned, picked up the telephone.

“Hey, Quentin.” She slipped the strap of her purse onto her shoulder. Her eyes were on Brock’s front door. “What’s up?”

“I just spoke to Tori and—”

“Tori?” Sheridan frowned. “She’s in school.”

“Yes, but she called me upset. Apparently, she’s being harassed at school. Why didn’t you tell me what was going on?”

Because it’s your fault
. “There was nothing to tell. I handled it.”

“Doesn’t seem to be handled.” His tone made Sheridan’s eyebrows rise. He continued, “Tori was in tears. We need to talk.”

She stepped from the car. “I don’t think there’s anything to talk about, but if you want, I’ll call you when I get home.” The heels of her boots tapped a determined beat on the concrete as she marched toward Brock’s home. “I’m in the middle of something now.”

“Sheridan, I’m really concerned about Tori.”

It was his tone that made her stop, her hand in midair, aimed for Brock’s doorbell. It had been almost three weeks since Tori had come home crying, and every day since then, she’d checked in with her about school. Tori’s daily response, “I’m fine, everything’s fine,” was all she’d say before she dragged herself to her bedroom. Sheridan had believed her daughter. There was no reason not to. Tori’s monosyllabic responses seemed nothing more than normal teenage angst—adolescent drama that she’d seen on many days.

But now Sheridan wondered if she’d missed something.

“She sounded so bad,” Quentin continued, “that I thought about driving over there and taking her out of school early today.”

Those words sent Sheridan dashing back to her car. “Really?”

“Yeah. So, I know you’re busy, but this is important. We need to handle.”

“Okay, what are you doing now?”

“I’m at the office, but I’m ready to leave. Meet me at my place.”

“No!” she said, glancing once again at Brock’s front door.

“Okay,” Quentin said, slowing down. “What about your house?”

“Let’s just meet at Starbucks. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” She flipped off her phone before he could disagree, and backed out of the driveway, taking a final glance at the place where she really wanted to be.

Quentin waved to Sheridan the moment she stepped inside Starbucks.

“Do you want something to drink?”

She shook her head. Sat. “So, what exactly did Tori say?” It had bugged her on the drive over—that Tori had called her father, the man who was the source of all that had gone wrong.

“Apparently, Lara Nelson has started the rumor that Tori’s a lesbian.”

Sheridan sighed. “The things thirteen-year-olds have to deal with today.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

Because this could be your fault
. “Quentin, it’s not like I tell you every little challenge that Tori has.”

“This is not exactly a little challenge.”

Sheridan shrugged.

“You blame me, don’t you?”

Yes
. “No. And please don’t make this about you. Or me. Or anything besides Tori.”

“All right.” He paused. “I gotta tell you that I’m worried. Tori didn’t sound good.”

“You don’t think it’ll blow over?”

“I would hope so, but it’s been going on for more than a month.”

“It hasn’t been that long. Three weeks, maybe.”

“That’s an eternity for a thirteen-year-old. I don’t want Tori to be hurt by this.”

She’s already been hurt by you
. “But what can we do?”

He shrugged. “She said she wants to go to a different school.”

“That’s a bit extreme.”

“It’s something to consider. It may be because she’s in that Christian school that the kids are being so hard on her.”

Sheridan paused. “Oh, please. The school is not the problem.”

“I’m just trying to think through all of our options, but I’m willing to do whatever has to be done. Even if that means pulling her out of school.”

“Well, before we even discuss that, I want to talk to Tori.”

He nodded. “And maybe we need to go to the school. Talk to her teachers, the principal. Make them aware of what’s going on.”

“Okay, I’ll talk to Tori when she gets home and I’ll get back to you.”

He shook his head. “I want to be there, too.”

“That’s not necessary.”

“It is to me. Let’s have dinner together tonight.”

Her expression made him add, “Just so we can both talk to Tori. I want to make sure she knows that we’re both here for her.”

Sheridan tried to imagine the three of them around the dinner table, breaking bread as if they were a family.

He placed his hand on hers. “So? What time should I come over?”

She looked down at his hand, wondered about his motives. But she stayed, not moving away. “Tori has booster practice. She’ll be home around six.”

He glanced at his watch. “In an hour. I can be there. I need to check on something at my office first.”

“Quentin, you don’t have to do this.”

“Yes, I do. I’m not going to let her go through something this serious without me. And I’m not going to leave you to handle this alone. We’ll do it together.” He paused; she nodded. “So I’ll come straight home as soon as I leave the office.”

Straight home
.

He corrected, “I should’ve said, I’ll come straight to your home.”

“That’s what you should’ve said.”

He gave her a small laugh, took her hand, and lifted her from her seat.

Her face stretched with surprise when he wrapped her inside his arms. She wasn’t sure why he held her, but the warmth of his embrace took her questions away. Made her close her eyes. Let her forget—for the moment—all that filled her mind.

She inhaled. Smiled. Opened her eyes. And stared straight into the eyes of Brock. Through the glass window, he stood outside Starbucks and watched her. She was still in Quentin’s arms when Brock turned and walked away.