Walk a Straight Line (15 page)

Terence and Colleen entered their home. They had enjoyed spending Thanksgiving with Gina and Michael. Keith and Eve were also a charming couple.

Colleen noticed that Terence was unusually quiet and voiced her concern.

Terence looked at her and said, “Yeah, I was just thinking about my mother and her being all alone tonight. It felt weird not being there with her.”

“I told you to call her and sweet-talk her into still having us over,” Colleen said, “because I certainly don't want her thinking that it's my fault.”

“I know,” Terence replied, “but it's more than that. My mother needs to respect you as my wife, and until she does that . . .”

“Thank you for that, Terence,” Colleen said, “But how your mother feels about me doesn't bother me anymore—Okay, I do care. But I'm sure now of how you feel about me.” She tilted her body toward his and kissed him on the cheek.

“Things have been great, haven't they?” Terence confirmed. He looked over at his wife. She was lovely. Terence knew that he had to say something about the incident that had taken place weeks ago. He had never really voiced his feelings aloud, but had just waited for things to fall into a normal routine.

“Colleen,” he began, “I know that I've never really told you how sorry I was for hurting you, and I just wanted to take this time to tell you that I'm truly sorry. I also wanted to let you know that you're the best thing that has ever happened to me. You've changed my life and made me a better man.”

Tears formed in her eyes. “Thank you, Terence. Your apology means a lot to me. I've wanted to talk with you about that night for so long, but I knew you were probably embarrassed about it, so I didn't push. But, we do need to talk about that night.”

Terence knew that Colleen was right. He just didn't know where to begin. “Colleen, I have replayed that night over in my head so many times, it's not even funny. You are right, I was scared to talk to you about it,” he stated. Then he corrected himself. “Well, not scared, really. I mostly felt vulnerable. Especially thinking about what Gina must think of me now.”

“Gina?” Colleen gave him a quizzical look. “Gina is my friend, and her opinion matters, but she doesn't control my life. She just doesn't know about the physical abuse or your breakdown. But I did mention your controlling ways in the past. I want you to know I've never kept anything from her until now, and that's because I felt that God was telling me not to. She's not saved, and I don't want something like this being a stumbling block.”

Terence heaved a huge sigh of relief. He knew Colleen would've confided in Gina but was grateful she hadn't disclosed everything. Still, he felt overwhelming embarrassment. “Colleen, I'm so relieved to hear you say that,” he said. “I mean, I felt so funny being around her today. Like a big hypocrite. I'm about to be ordained as a minister, and I was so ashamed of what she might think about me.”

“Well, she doesn't know everything. But, she's no dummy—and I may feel led to tell her at some point. But anything else that transpires between us will stay between us—unless my life is in danger, then all bets are off. You have my word on that.”

“Thank you,” Terence said, humbled. He didn't deserve this woman. He knew that for sure. He swallowed her in his arms, cherishing the second chance he'd been given. He grazed her cheek with light kisses before finding her mouth. His passions overtook him, and he deepened the kiss.

Ever since that night, Terence had changed in so many ways. He knew that tonight was the night that he would truly open up and tell Colleen everything. He had only confided a piece of the truth to her. Terence had only told Colleen that he'd been hurt as a little boy. But he had never gone into detail. Tonight, that was about to change.

The couple got undressed for bed, and Terence snuggled Colleen in the crook of his arms. He then opened up to go back in time to that horrible day in his life. “I was about six or seven years old, and I was in bed when I thought I heard my mother crying. So I went to investigate. All I did was ask my mother what was wrong when she started yelling at me. She shouted at the top of her lungs, ‘It's all your fault. It's all your fault.' What's my fault? I wondered.”

“Did she ever tell you?” Colleen bit in.

Terence shrugged—caught in his memory. “To this day, Colleen, I don't know what I did. But, I apologized. That didn't matter to her. She kept blaming me for something. I said to myself, my room was cleaned and my toys were all packed away. So, I started crying, and I begged my mother to stop crying. But she didn't want to hear it.”

Colleen turned her body around until she met him eye to eye. Anger blazed. “Terence, don't say it.”

Terence placed his hand over her lips. “Shh . . . Let me do this, Colleen. I've never told a soul, but I have to let this out.”

Colleen nodded. Terence gathered his courage. “She scared me, Colleen. I'd never seen my mother that way before. I couldn't help it—I peed my pants. When she saw that, she called me stupid and she . . .”

Terence heard Colleen's bellow of outrage, but she said nothing. She pushed herself to a sitting position and reached over to turn on the lamp on the nightstand. When she patted her legs, Terence rested his head on her lap and continued. “She hit me. It was like she'd gone crazy because she pummeled my body with her fists.” He couldn't help but cringe then.

“Oh my, goodness,” Colleen found her tongue. She sobbed. “I can't believe she did that to you.” Her anger was palpable.

“Hush . . . It's okay, Colleen. I'm over it now.”

“What happened to you after that?”

Terence needed to see her face. He rose to a sitting position. “I figure that I must have been unconscious because I woke up in my bed. My mother had a cloth—I remember it was white with yellow ducks on it—well, she used that to wash my bruises. The next day, Colleen, she was so nice to me. She bought me candy and snacks. She told me it had all been a bad dream and told me it would never happen again. But it did. It became a pattern. She'd beat me one day, and then hug me the next.”

Terence gulped. He held out his right arm. “Remember this birth mark?”

Colleen's eyes widened as the sordid truth sank in.

“My mother burned me with an iron.”

“She should be in jail!”

Terence could see the venom in Colleen's eyes. Tears spilled.

His own eyes blurred. “No, she's my mother. Colleen, I'm not telling you this to excuse my actions because I know there is no justification for what I did to you. I just need you to know more about me and how I got this way. This is about me—not my mother.” He needed her to understand that and felt better when he saw her nod. “I never told a soul about the abuse. As I got older, I thought I'd put it all behind me. So, it wasn't until you hit me—and let me tell you, you pack a mean punch—that I had a rude awakening.” He chuckled and scratched his chin at his slight jest. “But now that my past is hitting me in the face, it's like it's always there. I have been praying about it. But, Colleen, I think that I'm beginning to hate my mother.”

Terence voiced that last comment in a hushed tone.

Colleen wiped the tears that had been running down her cheeks before pulling her body nearer to his to comfort him.

“Terence,” Colleen said, “I know that you don't hate your mother, but she did a terrible thing. I think that you two just need to talk and bring everything out in the open.”

“No,” Terence returned, “I just don't think I can do that. Ever since I remembered, I find that I don't even want to talk to her. That's why I honestly didn't mind not going to her house this Thanksgiving. I would've felt like a hypocrite, smiling in her face, when I'm not sure how I feel about what she did to me.”

“I understand,” Colleen stated, “But you need to confront your mother. You can't keep these feelings buried inside. Your traumatic, dysfunctional childhood made you like a puppet on a string when it came to your mother. Terence, you need to let her know that you remember.”

“But what if she denies everything?” Terence wondered. “Then it's my word against hers.”

“I know you're not lying,” Colleen persisted. “The way you broke down and begged me not to hit you was surreal. As I held you that night, all I could think was that something must have happened in your past to make you hit me. And now, I know why. Your mother abused you. She still has a tight control over you. It's like you're her pet, instead of her son. She's not letting that leash go.”

He hated the metaphor she used, but it captured his relationship with his mother to a tee. “I hate to agree,” Terence replied, “but you're right. My mother has dictated everything I have ever done in my life. It wasn't until you that things became different.”

Terence shifted his body to face his wife and said, “You changed that, Colleen. You were the only thing that I truly wanted and fought her for.”

Colleen offered Francine a pitiful defense. “Maybe your mother is just lonely. I think she devoted so much of herself to you that she finds it hard to believe that you're grown now and have your own life.”

“I don't know,” Terence said. He played with her chest and ogled her natural response. “I'm so glad that you've given me another chance, Colleen. I don't know what I'd ever do without you. My mother was like my best friend until you. But now, you're my best friend, and you're the best friend a person could ever have.”

“You'll have to confront her one day, Terence,” Colleen advised her husband. “You and your mother need to talk and deal with your past, or maybe seek professional counseling. You might find she's this way because she's never truly forgiven herself for what she did to you. You both need to resolve this as soon as possible.”

“Hmm, hmm, I will, Miss Psychologist,” Terence mumbled, somewhat distracted. His lips had found her delicious ear. He heard Colleen's sigh and continued on that trend. He knew she was still talking, but Terence wasn't really listening to what she had to say anymore. So he simply agreed with whatever she said.

 

 

That same night, Francine put away the leftovers in her refrigerator and began washing up the dirty dishes. She had actually had a decent time tonight with Bishop Greenfield. Francine had invited him over and had cooked a smaller meal for two. They played cards and talked, so the evening had been enjoyable, even though Francine missed her son.

This was the first Thanksgiving that she had ever spent away from him. Bishop Greenfield urged her to call and make peace with Terence. For a split second, Francine considered calling Terence to apologize for her rash behavior. Then almost instantly, she decided against it. She was not about to let Terence know how much he affected her. She would freeze him out. He was the son, and
he
should be the one seeking her forgiveness. Not the other way around.

“There you are. Working—as usual.”

Michael leaned against the entrance to Keith's office and wagged his finger in his direction. Keith gave him a perfunctory “What's up?” nod before returning to his work. Undeterred, his brother entered his office with the speed of a whirlwind. He plopped down in the chair across from Keith's desk. His excitement was visible. Keith put down his pen and gave him his undivided attention.

“I just got off the phone with Karen. She's moving in with Arnold Bugle. Guess what? She is packing as we speak. Hallelujah! And I've got more good news. I went to Tiffany's and found the perfect ring.”

Keith's heart froze. He picked up his pen with deliberate ease because he needed to grab hold of something. With a practiced calm he did not feel, Keith repeated, “Ring?”

“Yes, I bought a ring. I'm going to ask Gina to marry me.”

Jealousy pierced his heart. He refused to believe what he was hearing. Michael was going to ask his Gina to marry him. “What?” he stammered, hoping that he hadn't heard right.

“I said,” Michael repeated, with excitement, “I'm going to ask Gina to marry me this New Year's Eve. I plan to fly her to Paris and ask her on top of the Eiffel Tower.”

He knew that he had to be happy for his brother, but he wasn't. How could he be when he was in love? “Isn't it a bit too soon for such grandiose plans? And isn't Paris hours ahead of us? How're you going to swing that?”

“I'm not worried about that,” Michael said, dismissively waving his hands. “It'll all work itself out. That's what I have an executive secretary for—to make it happen, work out all the kinks. What I'm sure of is how I feel. When I'm with her, the earth shakes.” Michael blushed at his poetic phrase.

Keith swiveled his chair so his back faced his brother. He needed a moment to compose himself. “What about Gina?” Keith asked as he turned around in slow motion. His insides ripped apart. Gina and Michael . . . Gina and Michael married, and with him as the best man. He would have to stand there and watch them tie the knot. Kiss. The whole nine yards.
I can't do it.

You don't have a choice.
Keith grappled with his conflicting emotions. Agitated, Keith jumped to his feet. His airways felt clogged, and he needed to walk. He saw Michael waver.

“Well, she hasn't really said much about how she feels, you know. Not in words, anyway. But I do know that she loves me. She's just one of those people who seems to have a hard time vocalizing her feelings.”

Keith argued. “Maybe that's one good reason why you should wait.”

“Yeah,” Michael sounded unsure of himself now. “I really value your opinion, and you know women—you have that knack. Now that I'm thinking about it, Gina's never said how she felt. I'm not trying to buy a twenty-five thousand dollar engagement ring and face possible rejection, but I'm going to put myself out there. She's worth it.”

Keith watched the myriad emotions sweep across his brother's face. He felt guilty. He knew that he'd thrown a monkey wrench in Michael's plans because of his own selfishness. He suppressed the feelings of turbulent jealousy whirling around his insides. Keith couldn't handle seeing a rock on Gina's hand. His mind needed time to assimilate. His heart was another story altogether. It would never recover.

However, Keith would stand by his brother's side—just not right now. It was too soon.

“But, you do think that Gina's the one for me, right?” Michael questioned, interrupting his thoughts. “I mean, I'm not making a mistake wanting her as my wife.”

Keith spoke from his heart. He reached over and picked up the small box and studied the ring. Then he slid it across the desk to Michael's hands. “Any man would be happy to have a woman like Gina in his life.”
Any man, like me.

“Yeah,” Michael joked, “Even you.”

Keith gulped at his brother's jest. Had he just read his mind? If Michael only knew how close to the truth he was. “Yeah,” Keith said halfheartedly, even though he felt miserable.

If only he'd gone with Michael to Terence's wedding. He would have met Gina first. He would be the one who was engaged. No, he would have eloped. There's no way he would have waited this long to claim her as his wife. Michael had shown more restraint than he would have.

“Life was meant for living. I love her so much that I'm going to put myself out there. Love means taking a chance. I'm going to ask her to marry me.”

No matter how hard he tried, Keith couldn't conjure up genuine joy. He functioned and said and did the right things, but every day for eleven days, he waited for a phone call from Gina or Michael to share the good news.

Then Eve waited until the day before New Year's to drop her news that she was moving in with Bass. He felt relieved to close that chapter of his life, but that left him dateless to his firm's ball. Each year the partners threw an over-the-top celebration, and it was a tacit rule that you attended.

Gina. He could ask her. She wasn't engaged, yet.

Michael. His brother wouldn't go for that.

Keith considered several women who would gladly fill in. No. A sister might read too much into a simple date, and he liked being drama free.

Keith was torn. He didn't think Gina would turn him down—but Michael.

Never had anything, or anyone, made him question his loyalty. Plus, Michael planned to ask for her hand in marriage. To ask her out would thwart his brother's plans, and it would be a low blow—the lowest of the low.

But even knowing this wasn't enough to deter him. His heart was doing the talking. He just needed Gina, like he needed to breathe. He'd ask. Leave it up to her.

 

 

“Michael told me he has big plans for us, but we aren't leaving until near midnight. So, yes, I'll go with you, since he'll be settling his affairs he said. He did promise that we'd ring in the New Year together.” Gina ended the call. She looked at her cell phone. What had she just done? How was she going to explain this to Michael? She twisted her lips and thought. Michael trusted her.

Usually, she was deserving of a man's trust. “But not this time, Michael,” she confessed. This time she fell short. Her good sense evaporated when it came to Keith. She was putty. Her hormones spun out of control.

Even now, just thinking of him made her palms sweaty and her heart thump like a drum. Maybe she should call Keith and back out.

No.

She'd go with Keith. Michael wouldn't find out. Her telltale heart raced as her conscience raged war. Desire won out.

Thoughts she'd suppressed surfaced. She hadn't dared to think about Keith's lips pressed against hers. She touched her chest. Keith stirred up a secret passion within her that just excited her and made her feel so . . . so alive.

But, she cared for Michael. She'd slept with him more than once. But she held back. That secret part of her remained hidden—a part she didn't know how to release or express. Maybe if Keith wasn't in the picture, she would've been able to open up with Michael.

Maybe. Maybe not.

Her cell buzzed.

“Gina, I think I can move up our meeting time tomorrow because I really want to be there to kiss you when the clock hits twelve.”

“No!” Realizing her too strong reaction, Gina mellowed out. “I mean, I've got beauty appointments, ugh, and . . .” She couldn't continue the deceit.

Michael chortled. “Okay, I understand. Our plans stand. I can't wait for tomorrow, baby.” She heard him kiss her through the phone.

That was so unlike him. Gina laughed. “See you then.”

Gina knew Michael was in love with her. He said it often enough. He dropped not-so-subtle hints about settling down, and his persistence increased.

Michael was a good man. She couldn't lose him.

She would keep her date with Keith. It was time to explore these feelings and put them in proper perspective. She and Michael had something good. She sizzled for Keith, but that attraction would fade.

Wouldn't it?