Always in My Heart (8 page)

“We just don’t know,” Deanna went on.

“And so many years have passed,” Callie began, “we might never know what happened to her.”

“No,” Natalie said. “I can’t accept that. I can’t accept that I may never know what happened to my mother. We have to find out.” She looked at Callie with imploring eyes. “We have to.”

“I agree with Natalie,” Deanna said, and squeezed Natalie’s hand in support. “If there’s a chance our mother is out there, we have to do what we can to find her. And if…” Deanna paused, drew in a deep breath. “And if the worst has happened to her, we need to know that, too.”

“I know you gave up on our mother a long time ago,” Natalie went on. “But what if Auntie Jean was right? What if all this time, she loved us? Loved us and left us to protect us, and perhaps was too ashamed to come back into our lives after all this time?”

Amazing how just a short while ago, Callie had entered this room to find her sisters on opposite sides and not communicating. Now here they were, holding hands, united.

“She could have been honest with us,” Callie stressed. “Told us that she was in some sort of trouble.”

“If she knew better, she would have done better,” Natalie said simply. “Sometimes you just have to forgive people because they didn’t know a better way.”

Callie let the words sink in. After a moment, she said, “I want to know the truth, too. Whatever it is.”

Then she looked around the room, prepared to ask Uncle Dave for his input, but noticed that he had left. He’d left them to read and discuss the letter on their own.

And perhaps he’d left them to continue bonding. Which they were doing. Because after having read the letter that their aunt had written for them, the sisters were suddenly different people. With something to concentrate on, they seemed united for the first time in a long time. So in a way, their aunt’s passing had brought them together. Even if it left them with a mystery to solve.

Was what their aunt had written true? That their mother had left them out of love? That she’d been in some kind of trouble and wanted to protect them?

Why hadn’t she simply told them the truth? Why had Miriam kept even her sister essentially in the dark?

But even as that question came into Callie’s mind, she realized how hypocritical it was. Who was she to talk about being completely forthright, given that she had kept Nigel in the dark about his son for all these years?

Something else suddenly struck her. Callie had found it hard to trust. That much she knew. What if her mother had also found it hard to trust for her own reasons? What if she had gone through something dark in her own past that had shaped her?

“What if Mom went through something,” Callie found herself saying. “What if, like us, something happened to her that made her unable to trust? That might explain why she trusted no one—not even her family—with the truth of what was going on in her life.”

Natalie stepped forward and took Callie’s hand in hers, tears filling her eyes.

“What?” Callie asked. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Natalie said, smiling through her tears. “In fact, hearing you say what you just did—showing some faith in our mother—tells me that finally, everything may be right.”

Deanna nodded. “All these years, there’s been a big hole in my life. And it wasn’t just because of our mother. When you left and no one heard from you, it broke my heart. But there was a reason for it—you were running from Nigel, and cut us off in the process. It only makes sense that our mother had a reason for doing what she did, even if in the grand scheme of things it wasn’t the best one.”

“I’m sorry,” Callie said. “I know I didn’t handle things in the best way. But there was so much going on…you and Natalie fighting and wanting me to pick sides…it seemed easier to run.”

“Hey, I’m not trying to blame you for what you did,” Deanna said gently. “I know the situation was complicated. But now that we’re all together again, able to talk about things, we can finally heal.”

“Yes,” Natalie agreed. “Deanna’s pointing out that there are no more secrets. I know that’s how it feels to me. We learned the truth about our nephew, and now we learned that our mother left us with Auntie Jean to protect us. It’s a step toward healing. For all of us.”

“And speaking of healing, how did things go with Nigel and Kwame today?” Deanna asked.

Callie’s stomach twisted. Stepping backward, she lowered herself onto her uncle’s bed. “It went well, all things considered.”

“Meaning?” Deanna asked.

“He and Kwame hit it off,” Callie explained. “It was as if they had known each other for years. They had a great time together.”

“That’s wonderful,” Natalie said.

“Yes,” Callie agreed. Her stomach still felt unsettled. Things had gone better than expected, and yet she felt uneasy.

“Then what’s the problem?” Natalie asked, sitting beside her on the bed.

What
was
her problem? Certainly Callie couldn’t have expected a better outcome than what had happened.

The answer came to her immediately. The reading of their aunt’s letter had her thinking of her own mistakes, and how she’d lost someone she had deeply loved. Because instead of fighting for the man she’d loved, she had let a disagreement—albeit a major one—come between them.

“Oh my God,” Deanna uttered. “You’re still in love with Nigel.”

“No,” was Callie’s immediate reply, but she felt a niggling sensation in her stomach. “Of course I’m not. It’s…it’s just that seeing him, seeing how well he and Kwame connected, it made me feel enormous regret.”

And even if she did still feel something for Nigel, Callie held no illusions that the two of them would reconnect romantically. Too much time had passed for that to happen. She had gone on with her life, and he had gone on with his. And on top of all that, there was her betrayal.

No, the best she could hope for was that she and Nigel were able to get along for the sake of their son. Become friends.

“There may not be hope for me and Nigel,” Callie said, facing Natalie, “but what about you and your husband? I heard…I heard you two were having problems.”

Natalie scoffed. “Problems? We’re over.”

Callie made a face. “I don’t understand. I thought you and Vance were happy.”

“So did I.” Natalie shrugged, nonchalant, but her eyes misted. “Surely you heard all about it on the news.”

Callie shook her head. “Actually, no. I didn’t hear any details. Just that there were problems.”

“Well, he couldn’t be faithful,” Natalie said. “Typical pitfall of the basketball player’s wife. I thought he was different, but he wasn’t. I can’t help feeling stupid for ever trusting him.”

Callie saw the way Natalie cast a look toward Deanna, and was certain that Natalie was wondering how Deanna would react to this news. Despite their resolving to put their differences behind them, Callie could only suspect that Natalie assumed Deanna thought she had gotten what she deserved. That her heartbreak because of a cheater was poetic justice.

But Deanna said nothing, for which Callie was grateful. If the sisters were going to make a true effort to get along, they had to leave the past in the past.

“I did hear about your breakup,” Deanna said, speaking softly. “On the news. That there was another woman. But you never know if you can believe what you hear though.” She paused. “Was he always cheating? Or was it just this one other woman?”

“I don’t know if he cheated on me before, but I suspect he did. I couldn’t be with him all of the time, and I’m telling you, the women who want a piece of your successful husband are relentless. These women throw themselves at the guys, desperate to hook one. A pregnancy, for example, would be a total coup. They’re like vultures. They don’t let up.”

Callie hoped Natalie wasn’t excusing Vance’s infidelity, blaming the other woman or women instead of the man who had made vows to her.

“But while I don’t know if he was cheating on me all the time, I know that this hurt—big time. Because he cheated with my supposed best friend, Genevieve.”

Callie’s eyes widened in shock. “Your best friend?”

Natalie shook her head, her expression bitter. “My
former
best friend. We were supposed to be tight. She was one of the first people I met when I moved to Texas. She was the big basketball fan, and dragged me to a lot of the games. I think she secretly hoped to meet one of the players and sail off into the sunset. Instead, I was the one who met Vance… .” Natalie’s voice trailed off. “I didn’t put the pieces together until later that she was jealous. Even though she married soon after I did, she never snagged that high-profile husband. And I think when her marriage ended last year, she made a deliberate play for Vance. She said to me after the fact that if not for her, I never would have met him.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Deanna said. “So because you met Vance while going to games with her, she had a right to betray you?”

Natalie met Deanna’s eyes with an expression of surprise. It was clear to Callie that she hadn’t expected Deanna to come to her defense.

“Thank you,” Natalie said. “It means a lot to hear you say that. Because I know you could easily tell me that I got what I deserved.”

“No one deserves that,” Deanna said quietly.

“Maybe I did. Because I found out exactly what it feels like to be betrayed by someone close to you. I finally felt what you must have ten years ago.”

Deanna said nothing, just nodded. “We’re putting the past in the past, remember? That was a long time ago, and I wasn’t married to Marvin.”

“All the same, I never said this to you before. Even earlier when we argued, I should have said what I’ve wanted to tell you for a long time. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for what I did…for how I hurt you.”

“Thank you,” Deanna said.

And then Natalie got to her feet and hugged Deanna, and tears filled Callie’s eyes. So much time wasted over the years. All the sisters had drifted apart, and that never should have happened.

“Oh, let me get in there too,” Callie said, rising to join her sisters in another group hug.

The hug lingered, one that was ten years overdue.

As they pulled apart, Callie asked, “So, what now regarding your marriage? Have you filed for divorce, or…”

“Or am I hoping to work things out?” Natalie supplied. “Not a chance. Even if I was inclined to forgive him, how could I forgive him for cheating with my friend?” Pausing, Natalie shook her head. “Do you know what my friend had the nerve to say to me? That I’m so beautiful, I can have any guy I want. After I found out what happened, that’s what she said to me. She steals my husband, and that’s supposed to be my consolation?”

“Jealousy is so ugly,” Callie said. “It will make people do things they never thought they would do to you. Even among friends.”

“I wasn’t jealous of you,” Natalie said softly. Now she was looking at Deanna, and the comment clearly had to do with the fact that she had betrayed her sister years before. “I guess I was jealous in a way, jealous because you were spending so much time with Marvin. I missed you in my life. So I did something stupid. I got involved with him, knowing full well that it would never go anywhere, but knowing also that it would drive you and him apart. I was too proud to say that. I let the years come between us. Because of my pride.”

“That’s behind us now,” Deanna said with conviction. And then she reached for Natalie’s hand. Callie did the same, taking one of each of her sister’s hands into her hand. Three sisters, united again after so many years.

Callie knew it wouldn’t necessarily be easy, but they had made it to the other side.

And on this side, things were definitely looking up.

Chapter 8

“H
ey, my man,” Marshall said as he entered the detectives’ office area twenty minutes after Nigel had arrived for their shift.

Nigel made a deliberate show of looking at his watch. “You’re late.”

“Yeah, I know. I was in court most of the day, then had to rush home and shower. You know the deal.” Marshall pulled his chair forward and sank onto it. “What’s the latest?”

“I just got off the phone with Garrett Brown’s mother,” Nigel said. “And we caught a break. She said Garrett’s girlfriend confided in her, told her that someone who goes by the street name of Big Boy is the one who killed her son.”

“Excellent, excellent.”

“I was just about to go through the database, see what I can find out about Big Boy.”

“I love it.” Marshall moved his chair toward his desk, and pressed the button to turn on his computer. “I love it when we solve a case in forty-eight hours.”

“As you know, even if we put a name to the shooter, the challenge is going to be tracking him down. He could be in the wind right now, on the run.”

“We’ll get him,” Marshall said, and clapped his hands together.

Marshall loved the hunt. When he knew the identity of a killer, he was like a dog with a bone. He didn’t let up. Marshall had his goofy moments, but when it came down to it, he was all grit and determination to get killers off the streets.

Marshall turned to him, his eyes growing wide. “Did you meet your son today?”

Nigel nodded, biting his bottom lip as he did. “Yep.” And though he felt an unpleasant stirring in his gut when he thought about Callie’s betrayal, he also found himself smiling as he thought of Kwame.

“So how did it go, my man? What was it like meeting your son?”

“It was good.”

Marshall made a face. “Good?”

“It was more than good,” Nigel admitted. “It was incredible.” And it had been. He and Callie had created not only a beautiful child, but one who was smart, sensitive and funny.

“Don’t keep me in the dark here,” Marshall said.

“Kwame’s exactly the kind of kid you would want for a son,” Nigel elaborated. “Smart, funny. A real good kid. And he loves sports,” Nigel added with a grin.

“Dang,” Marshall commented, shaking his head. “I still can’t believe it. An instant family. I never would’ve expected Callie to keep your son from you. I always thought she loved you, man.”

The comment caused Nigel’s jaw to flinch. “Yeah,” he concurred softly. “I thought the same thing. Just goes to show…”

In an instant, Nigel’s life had changed. Callie’s deception had cost him nine years of his son’s life, but it had cost him more than that as well. His mother, whose sole goal had been to see him marry and produce offspring, had died never knowing she was a grandparent. His father now lived in Bermuda, having retired there five years ago. He lived with a brother and his wife who’d had a home there for decades. Callie had deprived his parents of time and happiness they could have had with his son.

His father would have to be told of Kwame’s existence, hopefully meet him one day. Though he was more frail now after suffering two heart attacks. If anything, Nigel would likely have to head to Bermuda with Kwame in order for his father to meet his grandson.

It struck him as surreal that this was truly his situation, that he was thinking of long-term plans that included a son he had just learned about.

“I hate to say it,” Marshall began, “but meeting Kwame…did you get any sense that he might not be your child? I’m not saying Callie would lie about it, but let’s face it—if he’s yours, she lied to you by omission for all these years.”

“He’s mine,” Nigel said. “I could see it, clear as day.”

Remembering the first sight of him, Nigel sucked in a slow breath. He had been stunned at the resemblance. Kwame looked so much like he had when he was his age.

If there had been any doubt, it vanished when he laid eyes on his son. And in that moment of seeing him for the first time, the gravity of his reality had hit him harder than when Callie had dropped her bombshell.

Seeing that he had a son…there were no words to describe it.

“I guess congratulations are in order,” Marshall commented. “Aren’t you supposed to pass out cigars?”

Nigel knew that Marshall was trying to ease the tension with his humor, but Nigel wasn’t in the mood. He had been thinking about Kwame ever since he and Callie had left, wondering how much time he would have to spend with Kwame before they headed back to Florida.

He was both happy and distressed. Never in his life had he imagined he’d be a father who would be living thousands of miles away from his kid. Though the situation had been awkward, he had been on a high as he had played ball with his son.

But once Callie and Kwame had left, Nigel’s mood had plummeted. He had thought about all the years lost, how much his mother would have loved Kwame. So he had paid a visit to his mother’s graveside before heading in to work, his mind consumed with regrets over just how excited his mother would have been to be a grandmother.

He had talked to her at the grave as he often did, told her that he had a son. He also told her all the emotions he was feeling—from anger, to confusion, to love, to fear. He could picture Edna Williams listening to him from above, her classic maternal expression of understanding on her beautiful face.

And as he got back into his car, it was thoughts of his mother that had him doing his best to push the regrets and disappointment aside. Having gone to talk to his mother reminded him of one thing he knew she would tell him if she were alive. She would tell him not to hold on to the anger.

His mother always said there was no point in crying over spilt milk, no matter how big the mess was. You just had to clean it up and move on.

“This isn’t how I planned things,” Nigel said to Marshall, “but it is what it is. A lot of men never get an opportunity to be a father, so I have to count my blessings, right?”

“You’re my hero, man,” Marshall said. “A better man than me, that’s for sure.”

“I’m not going to turn my back on Kwame,” Nigel said.

“Next thing, you’re going to be handing out wedding invitations,” Marshall said.

Nigel felt a jolt to the chest at Marshall’s words.

“Don’t look so shocked,” Marshall went on when Nigel didn’t speak. “I know how much you loved Callie.”

Nigel’s chest felt tight, making it hard to breathe. Yes, he’d loved Callie, God knew he had. But the only thing allowing him to go forward and embrace being a father to Kwame was trying to block Callie’s deception from his mind.

Because damn, seeing her again…there had been a part of him that had wanted her still.

Even with a bandage on her forehead and a sling on her arm, she was breathtaking. And the fact that she’d been hurt had brought out his protective instincts even more.

But he had to rein them in. Because Callie was not deserving of his protection. He didn’t want to think about taking care of her. She was no longer deserving of his love.

Nigel stood. “Time to canvass the neighborhood, see if we can find Big Boy.”

“I thought you were going to look up the information in the database,” Marshall said.

That had been the plan, but Nigel could no longer sit still. He needed to get up, get moving.

It was the only thing he could do to help clear his mind of thoughts of Callie.

* * *

Callie’s mind was on the letter her aunt had written as she had left the house to take a walk. It was something she’d done often as a teen, the nearby park with its lush trees and dazzling array of flowers the perfect spot for her to sit and think.

So much had happened today. First seeing Nigel, and introducing him to Kwame. Then, learning that their aunt had kept the truth about their mother from them all these years.

Callie had sat and pondered everything for a good long while, needing solitude to think. Oddly, her thoughts kept coming back to Nigel. Thinking of him today—how incredibly sexy he had looked—had her heart beating faster.

Which she didn’t understand at all. For God’s sake, ten years had passed since she’d last seen him.

But she couldn’t deny the reaction, not even now as she found her skin feeling flush. The undeniable truth was that her body still reacted to his.

She remembered the jolt she’d felt when she had walked back outside with the drinks for Nigel and Kwame, and seeing that he had taken his shirt off. There had been the raw, female reaction to his strong male physique.

But what haunted her, even now, was that scar on his chest. It was the kind of scar that spoke to either a serious health issue, or a violent trauma.

“Stop doing this,” Callie told herself. “Stop thinking about Nigel.”

But as she got up and started to walk out of the park, she heard a voice in her head say,
Easier said than done.

* * *

Kwame’s eyes lit up when he saw his mother enter the front door. He was in the living room, holding the controller for the Wii game, but promptly dropped it and rushed toward her. He gave her a big hug, mindful not to hurt her injured arm.

Callie would never tire of his reaction to her. People told her that as he got older, he wouldn’t want to lavish her with affection because he would be more conscious of his male image. But knowing Kwame’s sweet demeanor, she couldn’t imagine that day coming.

And if it did, all the more reason to enjoy her son’s loving attention now.

“How’ve you been, sweetie?” she asked, running a hand over his head. She had been gone about an hour and a half. “Your aunts treating you well?”

“They’re awesome!” Kwame exclaimed. “We’ve been playing ever since you left.”

“Aah,” Callie said, understanding. She threw a look at Deanna, who shrugged sheepishly. Well, she could hardly be unhappy with her sisters for spending time with Kwame, even if they were playing video games.

They had nine years to make up for.

“Auntie Deanna loves being Snake,” Kwame went on.

Again, Deanna shrugged. “I have no clue what I’m doing. I’m just pressing buttons on a remote. And speaking of which, it’s your turn.” She passed the remote to Natalie, who looked as confused as Callie felt every time she played Super Smash Bros. with her son.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Callie said.

“If you want to play,” Natalie said, “feel free.”

Callie exchanged a knowing look with her sister, one that said
Not a chance.
It wasn’t that she wouldn’t or couldn’t play. It was that this particular game she understood as well as she understood the Russian language.

So Callie escaped upstairs, where she took her arm out of the sling and tried to move it. It still hurt, but not as badly as it did last week. But she simply couldn’t move her arm the way she liked, and knew it was too soon to push it. She hated being restricted, and hoped she wouldn’t need the sling that much longer.

Callie was surprised when she heard the door open, and even more surprised when she saw Kwame standing at the door.

“Hey,” Callie said, smiling. “I thought you were playing the Wii game with your aunts.”

“I wanted to check on you,” Kwame said, and Callie could see the hint of worry in his eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” Callie opened her good arm to her son. “I’m fine, sweetheart. What about you?”

“I’m good.”

Callie hadn’t had a real chance to talk to him since their return from his father’s. So she took his hand and led him to the bed, where they both sat.

“Did you have a good day, son?” Callie asked, trailing her fingers over his forehead. “Meeting your father, I mean?”

The boy’s smile was instantaneous. “I had a great day.”

“And you have no questions for me? Nothing else you want to know? About anything.” She assumed he would still have questions for her later, even perhaps be angry with her once he got over this initial phase of excitement about learning that his father was alive.

“All that really matters is that my dad is alive, and that he loves me,” Kwame said.

Callie’s eyes misted, but she tried not to let the tears fall. In that simple statement, her son was letting her know that he forgave her, that he was looking at the big picture.

It made Callie think once again about the letter her aunt had left her and her sisters. How her own mother had been in some kind of trouble and had fled. Couldn’t she have sat Callie down and reasonably explained to her what was going on? Explain that there was some sort of trouble, that she loved them and had to leave them for a while? Callie had been eight. Old enough to get the jist of a serious conversation.

The very fact that Kwame was being so forgiving made it clear that kids simply needed to be told the truth. Adults often doubted a child’s ability to handle the truth, but children were stronger than people thought.

Thinking of their mother, Callie felt the familiar anxiety. The pain. That sense of abandonment that was like nothing else.

And then she remembered Natalie’s comment. That if their mother knew better, she would have done better.