What's Done In the Dark (8 page)

He said jokingly, “Cool, but you know if I don’t approve, you have to dump him.”

“Oh, is that how we’re doing it now?”

He nodded. “Yep, you had to have a say in who I’m dating, so I have to give my stamp of approval.”

My eyebrows rose in shock. “Dating? So you and Paula are
dating
now?”

The expression on his face said he felt like he’d put his foot in his mouth.

“Yeah, we’re kinda kicking it,” he admitted.

I don’t know why, but that put my stomach in knots. “Kickin’ it, like we’re-having-a-good-time kickin’ it?” I clarified. “Or kickin’ it, like we’re-really-feelin’-each-other kickin’ it?”

He didn’t respond, and he lost his smile.

“Steven, what’s going on?” I said. “I can tell you’re keeping something from me.”

He took a deep breath, then said, “I don’t know how to say this.”

His tone made me set my fork down. “How about you just come right out and say it?”

Steven released a heavy sigh. “Paula is pregnant.”

The knots in my stomach twisted in a tight fist. I couldn’t even get words to come out of my mouth. “Wow,” I finally managed to say.

“I mean, I don’t know how it happened.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You don’t?”

“I mean, of course I know how it happened. She’s just, well, she’s as shocked as I am,” he stammered.

“Is she keeping it?” I asked bluntly. I know Paula and I weren’t as close as we used to be since she moved back to DC but I couldn’t believe that she hadn’t shared that with me.

“What?”

Steven narrowed his eyes, and I immediately felt bad.

“No, I’m not saying she should have an abortion,” I said, trying to backpedal. “I just thought, you know, with school and all, all I was saying . . .” I didn’t know what I was saying, so I let my words trail off. All I knew was this had to be the most devastating news I’d ever heard.

“So, what are you going to do?” I finally asked.

“Well, I came home to break the news to my parents, and you know what they’re going to want me to do.”

I held my breath as I waited for the next words.

“They’ll want me to marry her.”

“Marriage?” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “How do you feel about that?”

“How should I feel?”

We stared at each other. I didn’t know what to say. Not until that very moment—when the thought of Steven’s happily-ever-after with someone else was about to become a reality—did I realize that I wasn’t being honest with myself about Steven. Because the pain I felt was overwhelming me.

Tears began welling up in my eyes, but before either of us could say anything, Greg walked in.

“Well, this must be the great Steven,” he said, approaching our table. I immediately willed my tears back and swallowed the lump in my throat.

“And you must be Mr. Wonderful himself, Greg.” Steven stood to shake his hand. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Both Steven and I managed fake smiles. Greg put his arm around me and pulled me close. His hug didn’t feel warm at all. In fact, it felt tight and possessive. Suddenly, I was glad that I’d never told him that Steven and I had slept together. Steven and I had both agreed that since it was a mistake for us to cross the line, we needed to forget it ever happened.

“Well, that’s good because the way she raves about you, I was beginning to wonder if I should be worried,” Greg said, pulling me even tighter.

Steven laughed uneasily. “Naw, she’s like my little sister. Nothing going on here but the best of friends.”

Little sister? Best of friends?
Who would’ve ever thought those words could be so painful?

I wriggled to get Greg to let go a hair. I said, forcing a smile as I glared at Steven, “See, I told you, baby. We’re just like brother and sister. And besides, Steven was just sharing the good news with me.”

“What good news?” Greg asked.

“Looks like him and Paula are about to have a baby.”

“What? Congrats, man.” Greg extended his hand again.

Steven shook it. “Yeah, it’s not the ideal situation with me being in my first year of law school, but life happens.”

“I feel you, but from what Felise has told me, if anybody can make it work, you can. Y’all getting married?”

I waited for that answer.

“Yeah, probably.”

It took everything in my power to keep my knees from buckling.

“Well, let me know, man. Maybe I can chip in on the bachelor party.” He leaned in and kissed me on the lips, like a dog staking its claim. “And who knows? Maybe we can have a double wedding.”

STEVEN HAD RETURNED TO DC
after that visit, and the distance between us began, both literally and figuratively. Paula started calling me more. A part of me sensed that she was trying to make sure that I was okay with everything. But she was pregnant with his child, so what was I supposed to say at that point? I’d given her my blessing, and I definitely couldn’t take that back now. So I continued to assure her that I was happy for her and for Steven.

I couldn’t take Steven’s calls, though. He called often, trying to gauge where my head was. The few times I did take his call, I was abrupt and I could tell that he knew my excitement was fake. Thinking of Paula and Steven married with children hurt my heart to the core. And I never told a soul.

But that’s why, one day, when Greg made a haphazard proposal at Joe’s Crab Shack, I jumped to accept. We had been dating for nine months, and besides his few obsessive
tendencies, he was a good guy, so I said, “Sure.” That was the extent of our proposal.

He bought me a miniscule ring from JCPenney. I almost died when he turned away from the one-and-a-half-carat ring I was eyeing, pointed at the smallest diamond in the case, told the clerk we’d take that one, then handed her a 20-percent-off coupon. When I started making wedding plans, he took one look at my budget and decided that it made “absolutely no sense to spend that kind of money on a wedding.” I protested at first, but then Paula emailed me a photo of her elegant wedding dress. I knew I’d never have a dress like that, so why bother? Greg and I went to the justice of the peace three days later.

I took great pride in telling Steven that I was married. His long silence told me that my declaration of love for Greg stung, and I was glad. I wanted him to feel the same pain I did. He never let on, though. And I took my place as a bridesmaid at their wedding. I fought back tears as I watched them say, “I do.” I led the toast for the married couple to have a lifetime of joy. And I convinced myself that I wasn’t in love with my best friend’s
husband.

13

Paula

I WAS BEYOND WORRIED NOW.
It was nine the next morning. I still hadn’t heard from Steven. I’d logged on to AT&T and seen that he still hadn’t made any calls since we talked, which only intensified my worry.

I was about to break into a full-fledged panic when my mother appeared in the bedroom doorway.

“Umm, Paula.” She looked extremely nervous as she fidgeted with her hands. “The police are here.”

“The police?” I said, jumping up off my bed. “For what?” In my distracted state I hadn’t heard the doorbell ring. “Are the kids back? Where’s Tahiry?” I asked as I slipped on some pants.

“I went and picked up Tahiry last night. She and the boys are downstairs.”

“Well, what do the police want?”

My mom didn’t answer as she followed me out. I had barely reached the bottom of the stairs when the first officer said, “Mrs. Wright?”

“Yes?” I replied, taking slow steps in their direction.

The first officer glanced at Tahiry and her brothers, who were all standing in the middle of the living room, staring at him.

“Ummm, is there somewhere we can go talk in private?”

“Private? Why do we need to talk in private?” I asked, my voice squeaking. “Is this about my husband? Did something happen to Steven?”

“Please? It’ll just take a few minutes,” the officer said.

I didn’t like the way this was sounding. “Mom, can you take the kids in the other room?”

Tahiry wanted to protest, but the look on my face must’ve told her that now wasn’t the time. My mother took Mason and Marcus’s hands and led them out. Tahiry and Stevie reluctantly followed.

“What’s going on?” I asked as soon as they were out the room.

“Well, it is about your husband”—he glanced down at his notepad—“Steven Wright.”

My heart immediately sank. “What about him? He’s fine, right? Where is he? Has he been arrested?”

“Ma’am, unfortunately, there’s been an accident.”

I fell back against the wall. I had to hold on to the railing to keep from losing my balance. “What kind of accident?”

The officers exchanged glances; then the second one, a compassionate-looking man, stepped forward. “I’m sorry to have to inform you of this, but Steven’s body was discovered in a local hotel this—”

“Wh-what do you mean, body?” I said, cutting him off. Surely this had to be some kind of mistake. I felt my mom ease to my side and take my arm, trying to keep me
from collapsing. “Where’s my husband?”

“Sweetie, calm down,” my mom whispered, her voice shaking.

I jerked away. “No, what are you talking about?”

The second officer looked pained. “Ma’am, there’s no easy way to say this. Your . . . Your husband was found dead in his hotel room this morning. One of the housekeepers found him in his bed unresponsive. Of course, the coroner will give the final report, but it looks like he just died in his sleep.”

All of the breath inside me escaped, and I fell to the floor. I didn’t realize that I was screaming until Tahiry came running out.

“Mom, what’s wrong?” she cried.

“There has to be some kind of mistake,” I heard my mother say.

“Mom, what’s going on?” Tahiry frantically repeated.

“Get her out of here!” I screamed at my mom.

Tahiry jerked away as my mom tried to take her arm. “No, I’m not going anywhere! What’s going on?”

I looked at my daughter, then opened my arms to hug her. “They said your dad is gone,” I sobbed when she didn’t move.

“Gone where? When . . . when is he coming back?” She stammered, turning her gaze from me to the officers.

“Ma’am, I’m so sorry,” the first policeman replied.

“What happened?” I heard my mom ask. I don’t know exactly what he told her. Honestly, how on earth could it even matter? My husband was dead. Whatever they said elicited agonizing screams from Tahiry.
Then my whole world went black.

14

Felise

MY MANIC HUSBAND WAS WORKING
every nerve in my body. He was going all out trying to make up for the anniversary fiasco and driving me straight to the mad house.

“. . . So I was thinking that maybe this weekend, instead of going to see Mike Epps, we could catch a plane to Vegas for a late anniversary celebration,” he said. “I know the tickets are last minute, but I think we deserve it.”

I was sitting on the bed, thumbing through a magazine, not digesting a single word on the pages. I just wanted everyone to leave me alone to mourn.

I definitely didn’t want to hear any chatter about Vegas. Steven used to love going there. His favorite . . . I caught myself and had to fight back the lump in my throat. Was I going to spend the rest of my life thinking about Steven? I struggled to keep down the tears. I couldn’t cry. Greg knew I was upset about the anniversary, but tears would bring a whole other set of questions.

Still, a part of me wanted to cry
in my husband’s arms. He’d grown to love Steven, too. After Steven and Paula got married and he saw how close Paula and I were, he let down his guard. Steven and Greg would’ve probably never been friends on their own—they were too different—but they had developed a mutually respectful friendship over the years.

That made my betrayal even worse.

My cell phone rang, and I saw Paula’s name pop up on the screen.

I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t talk to her yet. I knew that I was going to have to at some point. But I was sure that she had gotten the news by now, and I didn’t know what to say.

“You’re not going to get that?” Greg asked when I tossed the phone back on the bed.

“I don’t feel like talking,” I snapped. “Period.”

“Okay, hint taken,” he said, standing. “I guess I’ll leave you alone.”

“That would be nice.”

Greg stood over the bed, staring at me. “How long are you going to stay mad at me?”

I took a deep breath and slapped the magazine, trying to pretend I wanted to keep reading. “I’m not mad, Greg. I’m over it, okay?”

“It doesn’t seem like it.”

“I’m just not in the mood for conversation.” I would have given everything to just disappear right then. Go to a dark land where no one could talk to me.

“Well, you haven’t been in the mood for conversation since you got home. You slept on the sofa, and if you say that you’re not mad anymore, then I don’t know what it is,” Greg said.

We were interrupted when Liz came
rushing into the room with her Samsung Galaxy extended toward me. “Mom,” she said frantically, “it’s Tahiry. She’s on the phone crying. She said Ms. Jean has been trying to call you because Uncle Steven died.”

My daughter didn’t call Paula her aunt, but for some reason she’d taken to calling Steven uncle. Maybe because he was always doing stuff for the girls and they absolutely adored him. Right then, hearing her call him that sent daggers through my heart.

I slept with my daughter’s “uncle.”