Back to Reality (22 page)

“
Matthew, can this group join you for the rest of the tour?” a woman asked from just behind me.

Matthew and I turned around and I came face to face with
a group of people, including Dr. Edward Sullivan. I was so surprised I jumped slightly. His eyes widened slightly before he recovered. “Sahara,” he smiled.

“Dr. Sullivan,” I said evenly.
I’m not going to give him the satisfaction of knowing he got under my skin,
I thought as I squared my shoulders and pursed my lips.

Chuckling softly, he replied, “It’s good to see you. You look well.”

“Thank you.” I glanced at Matthew who was looking between us in confusion. I then let my eyes follow the woman who had dropped Dr. Sullivan off scurry away through the crowd.

“So…would you like me to recap this piece for you sir?” Matthew asked.  He put his hands behind his back and eyed the taller man questioningly.

“No. We can move on. My wife is on her way over here now. She stopped to talk to our son.”

“Very well. You two can follow me,” Matthew called over his shoulder.

Ben is here?
I wondered as I turned around to follow Matthew to the next canvas. I didn’t want to give Dr. Sullivan the opportunity to see any emotion on my face.

We all moved silently to the next display. The oversized portrait was intriguing
, but I couldn’t relax in the presence of Dr. Sullivan.  When I heard his voice, it grated on me.

“Oh, I didn’t realize you’d be joining us for
the tour.” Dr. Sullivan said with faked cheer. Curiosity got the best of me and I glanced over my shoulder to see the elusive Mrs. Sullivan.

“I turned my head and found myself face to face with Ben and his father.  They were
exact replicas of each other.  They shared the same chocolate brown skin, handsome features, and muscularly built bodies; however, where Ben’s face was frozen in shock, Dr. Sullivan’s face looked amused.

Sahara?” Ben balked
in surprise. I had never heard his voice sound so pitchy.  If I wasn’t dreading the whole unnecessary family drama interrupting my serene art experience, I may have giggled at Ben’s voice.

“Good morning,”
I replied calmly, keeping my voice down as to not disrupt the tour.

Stepping forward, Ben placed his hand on my shoulder. “Can you come with me
right now please?” His voice sounded desperate.

I furrowed my brows and narrowed my eyes. “No.”

“Please Sahara. I need to explain something to you. Please,” Ben begged as his father and the rest of the group moved to the next exhibit.

I glanced over
at the group at the next exhibit and sighed, “Look. We agreed to talk later, so let’s just talk later. I really needed this exhibit to clear my mind. And you and your father have taken me all the way out of my comfort zone.”

Ben swallowed hard. “Whe
n we first met…becoming friends was not my agenda.”

Oh God, not this again,
I internally groaned as I crossed my arms over my chest.
If he tells me he’s in love with me, I’m going to scream. I have my plate full as it is. I don’t need—.

Ben looked past me before looking into my eyes again. “Look, we are friends now. And I would never do anything to jeopardize that friendship. I—”

“Benjamin, you need to leave before your mother sees you again,” Dr. Sullivan whispered sharply from behind me. 

Startled, I jumped again. Looking between Dr. Sullivan and Ben, I felt like my place of solitude and solace was being commandeered by the Sullivan men and I didn’t need that added stress in my life.

“Don’t bother. I’m leaving,” I announced as I stormed across the museum floor, dodging and avoiding people enjoying their special exhibition experience.

“Sahara!” Ben called behind me. I moved faster
and tried to lose him in the crowd.

Once I made it to
one of the two elevator banks, I hit the down button and then put my back against the wall beside the elevator buttons. 
I don’t want Ben or his father to sneak up on me. I want to leave here and not deal with them,
I thought as I crossed my arms across my chest and skimmed the faces heading to the elevator.  Ben’s face emerged from the crowd as soon as the elevator dinged.  I waited impatiently for the door to open and I glared at him until he slowed to a stop several feet away from me.

“Sahara, please wait,” Ben pleaded as he moved slowly. The doors to the elevator opened. His eyes shifted and immediately, his face fell.

“Benjamin, where’s your father? He sent me to the car and forgot to give me the keys,” the voice called out of the elevator as a woman pushed a man in a wheelchair out of the elevator first.

I knew that voice
.  I didn’t move. I didn’t breathe.  I didn’t make a sound. I just listened.

“Excuse me,” the woman said as she stepped off of the elevator around the people who had just gotten off.  Once she was completel
y off of the elevator, I recognized her immediately.  She was so determined to get to her son, she didn’t even notice me with my back pressed against the wall.

As if on cue, Dr. Sullivan came out of the crowd and spotted his wife and son.  They were both walking toward Ben
as he stood unmoving staring at me.  With her back to me, Ben’s mother didn’t notice me. But Ben’s father saw me when he was only a couple of feet away from them.  When he caught my eye, he stopped in his tracks. His wife looked at him and then over at me. And she too froze.

I felt like I h
ad been punched in the gut as I watched the pieces fit into place. The elevator door closed and traveled to another floor while I stood against the wall staring at her.
Don’t have a panic attack. Don’t have a panic attack. Breathe, breathe, breathe,
I thought as I stared at a woman I thought I knew. 

             
Ben and Dr. Sullivan stood and watched as she made her way over to me.  When we were face to face, she gave me a tight, almost apologetic smile. “Sahara,” she said in a controlled, even tone.  Her eyes betrayed her and expressed the uncertainty that I felt.

Chapter 23    

             
“Deborah…” I breathed in shock as my hand hovered above my chest.

             
The momentarily stunned expression on the face of Deborah Jones was a stark change from the stoic expression I was used to seeing from her.  She took a few tentative steps my way as I pressed my back more firmly against the wall. Ben and Dr. Sullivan were on her heels immediately.  Deborah stopped short and held up her hand to indicate she wanted her son and husband to stay put and then she continued walking toward me.

             
Stopping in front of me, Deborah greeted me, “Hello Sahara.” Her brown eyes were wide and unblinking.  Her wrinkled face looked more youthful.  She just looked different—more carefree, more expressive—than when I last saw her in Richland.

She almost looked nervous.
Almost,
I thought as I lifted my hands in defeat, shaking my head. “Deborah, what is going on?” I asked in a hushed whisper.

“Come with me,” she instructed me as she hit the elevator button. 

The elevator furthest away opened and we silently walked that way.  Before getting into the elevator car, I looked back at Ben.  His expression was unreadable but his body language wasn’t.  He was pacing and gesturing wildly to his father.  We watched in silence as the older man nodded and listened.  The door slid closed, leaving Deborah and I vacuum sealed in the elevator alone.  No words were spoken the entire time.  I fiddled with the hemline of my dress and rocked side to side slightly as the smooth jazz eased through the speakers. My mind was a complete blank as I tried to wrap my mind around what was going on. 

When the elevator reached the bottom fl
oor, we were immediately greeted by the museum’s coffee shop that was closed for renovations.  We sat down at the first empty table.  I glanced around the museum’s first floor and saw families, couples, singles, young people, old people, and a diverse mix of nationalities represented.  Of all those people, I didn’t see a single familiar face
. Except for the one that’s sitting across from me,
I thought as I brought my attention to the older woman in front of me.

“You are Ben’s mother?”
I asked incredulously, my voice low and resigned.

“
Yes,” she answered almost apologetically. She seemed uncomfortable as she eyed me.

“What? I don’
t understand.” I shook my head and furrowed my brows in confusion. “The accent?”

“Ben’s biological mother and James
were never serious and after she had him, she relinquished custody.  James and I met and married a year later and I’ve raised him as my own.  He spent the majority of his years in London in school,” she explained dismissively. Leaning forward, she implored me with her eyes, “How are you?”

How am I? Who is this woman?
I thought gaping at her.
We didn’t talk feelings. We always worked so well together because we didn’t talk about anything personal with one another. And now, she’s looking at me with concerned eyes and all I want to do is…tell her.
The realization made me want to cry so I bit the tip of my tongue and averted my eyes. 

“How are you?”
Deborah repeated.  When I didn’t respond, she groaned, “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

Finally finding my voice, I sputtered,
“Wait? What? Did you set this up?”

“
No, no. Of course not.” She pursed her lips and took a deep breath before she started again, “All I wanted him to do was check on you. I never wanted you two to start a relationship.”

I
felt my face contort in horror. Trying to control my anger with a deep breath, I gasped, “You sent Ben to check up on me?!”

“
No, not exactly. I just told him to keep an eye out for you if he ever saw you at the office he was researching this summer.”

With my elbows on the table, I put my head in my hands.  “I don’t understand why you would do this Deborah.” I looked up at her and waited.
This whole situation is just too much. Ben already knew who I was when we met? Deborah told him to find me? Our friendship was never really a friendship? I don’t even know what to do with this information,
I thought as I reflected on the only friendship I’d ever attempted as an adult.

“
Sahara, we’ve always had a good relationship,” Deborah explained. “You were one of the only people at Miller Security that understood the difference between personal life and work life.  You never tried to blur the lines and I respected that. And I watched you grow from a fresh out of college workaholic young woman and develop into a successful workaholic adult. I’ve known for years that you were harboring something heavy, but your personal life was yours and I didn’t pry. You remind me of a younger version of me.” She reached across the table and patted my arm twice and then pulled her hands back into her lap. “The day you came into my office and told me you needed to leave, I knew something bad had happened. It wasn’t in my nature to ask. And to be frank, it’s not in my nature to care. But you’ve always held your cards close to your chest and that day you seemed desperate.”

The memory of that day made my eyes water. I bit my tongue again and focused on the lines in the wood grain of the table.
That was a bad day,
I recalled silently as images of the 36 hour crying spree I had been on before walking into Deborah’s office with oversized black sunglasses on to shield my bloodshot eyes.  She made me take my glasses off and she didn’t comment on my appearance. She asked me what I needed and after advising me not to leave my position, Deborah provided me with a contact number to the Human Resources Director at RED Inc.
Not once did she make me feel ashamed or try to force me to explain.  Anyone else would’ve tried to make me talk about it… which would’ve made things that much worse for me. But not Deborah…she understood me,
I reflected, my emotions all over the place. I just listened and stared at the woman who sat across from me.

“You didn’t just seem like you were running. It seemed
like you were being chased.  And I couldn’t shake a feeling that something or someone was looking for you. So I just asked Benjamin to check on you if he saw you at one of the places I had listed for you.” The rigidity in her posture alerted me to how uncomfortable she must have felt.

Wiping the corner of my eye to prevent anything from falling, I
cast my gaze downward.  I felt betrayed by the woman I had looked up to for years. But at the same time, a larger part of me felt cared for. And that feeling made my heart hurt.  It made me long for family.  It made me long for a mother and father that I had long ago lost. Thoughts of my parents swirled around and made my heart heavy and the threat of tears real. Swallowing the hurt and pain down, I focused on an emotion that was easier for me to tolerate: betrayal. “How could you send your son to spy on me? Do you know how horrifying it is to find out that the person I thought was my friend was just doing a favor for his mommy?”

“Sahara,
I did not tell him to engage with you! I told him to let me know if you looked okay when you two crossed paths. Once he told me you two met, I forbade him from starting a relationship with you.”

“So why didn’t he tell me you were his mother? Or that he already knew who I was?”

“I don’t know. My instructions to him were clear: if you see her, let me know how she’s doing and if she looks well. At no point did I instruct him to interact with you, form a friendship with you or anything of the sort.  He worked with the best therapist in the state and since you looked shaken up, I added Dr. Summers to the list. When you left my office, I called him and asked him for a list of restaurants, galleries, and lounges. So when I asked him to check up on you, it was because I knew you two would cross paths at some point.”

“Wow! So you planted me in his world in hopes of what?”

“In hopes of knowing that you were still alive and well.”

“I thought we had an understanding, Deborah! I thought we didn’t involve ourselves in the other’s lives! I thought you understood. I thought—”

“That’s enough,” Deborah interrupted in a firm tone that shut me up instantly. “I’m a private person.  I don’t mix my work life and my home life. And I thought that was how you operated until you came to me with plans to upheave your entire life in one week.  The last time I had spoken to you, all was well. Then you come into my office looking far less pulled together than I’d ever seen you telling me you’re putting in your notice to leave after just being promoted.”  She leaned forward and gave me a stern look over her glasses. “So yes, I was worried. I’d known you for six years and I’d never seen that behavior from you before so I was worried. Worried enough to know that when you were ready, you’d need someone like Dr. Summers to pull you back.”

My eyes widened
in surprise. 
She was worried about me?
I thought with a start. Before I could really comprehend my feelings, my next thought took over.
Ben told her I’m seeing Dr. Summers? Of course he did,
I concluded as I let the information sink in.
But she had to have assumed I’d go, she put it on the list she gave me before I left Richland.  God, I must have been in bad shape when I went to her.

“I didn’t realize you were worried,” I mumbled
quietly as I rubbed my temples with my fingers. Her motherly tone and her admission about being worried about me cooled the anger and betrayal I had previously felt. Overwhelmingly, I only felt nurtured and protected.  Clearing my throat, I spoke a little louder. “I didn’t mean to worry you. I just needed to get away.”

Deborah must have sensed a breakthrough because her rigid demeanor softened and she folded her hands into her lap.
With a slight smile, she tilted her head and said, “And now that you are away…are things really any better?”

I chewed on my lip before I answered, “No, not really.”

“I’m going to tell you something and I want you to take it for what it is.” She waited for me to nod before she continued, “Dr. Summers is a lifesaver. She got me through a rough time. And if you let her, she’ll get you through yours too. You just have to face whatever you are running from. Confront it.”

Maintaining eye contact with her,
I nodded again as her words pierced me.  I didn’t know if it was the timing or the delivery or because it was Deborah, but my eyes flooded with tears and fell in fat droplets down my cheeks.  Standing up, she pulled me by my arm until I was on my feet too. I could’ve put up a fight but I didn’t. As she wrapped her arms around me, I realized that I wanted to be mothered…or fathered…or just parented. 
I needed this,
I thought as I squeezed her and my eyes tightly.  Releasing her, I wiped my face.

“Thank you,” I croaked, unwilling to allow myself to breakdown again.
The tears threatened to fall but I bit the tip of my tongue before I continued, “For looking out for me.”

“
I’m sorry I went about checking on you the way that I did.  Instead of asking Benjamin to check up on you, I should’ve just called you myself.” She placed her hands on my shoulders and looked me in the eyes. “But you are like me and you wouldn’t have told me anything.”

I smiled
slightly because she was right.  I assumed her small smile and raised right eyebrow was because she knew I knew she was right. “You’re right,” I admitted.

“I know
.” She pushed her glasses up on her nose before stating gently, “You are stronger than you think.”

I nodded and hugged her because if I didn’t, I would start crying again.  She squeezed me tight and stroked my hair.
And I let her. We stood like that for at least a minute and it felt good. Her motherly embrace was exactly what I needed and I didn’t even realize I needed it until that moment.
Stronger than I think,
I thought to myself as I let Deborah’s observation roll around in my mind.  Painfully, I reflected on my recent decisions.
I went to Richland to apologize to Ty even though I knew he was angry.  I went to Thomasville to apologize even though I knew he’d be angry.  I walked away from the love I felt for Emanuel even though it was heartbreaking for me. All of those things took strength. I am stronger than I think.
Before my emotions were able to get the best of me, I heard a voice cut through the varied voices of the museum lobby.

“Can I speak to you for a second
, Sahara?” Ben asked from behind me. The tears that had welled up only moments before dried instantly at the sound of his voice.

I stiffened and my arms fell t
o my sides. I watched Deborah’s lips purse in apparent displeasure before I turned around. He looked completely ill at ease and fidgety.  I looked at Deborah and then back at him.
Where he was hostile and combative with his father, he was a scolded school boy with his mother,
I noticed as I took in his uncomfortable stance and anxious face. His eyes flitted between me and his mother in a jumpy, unnatural way.

“Benjamin, we will talk after I find your father,” Deborah commanded with a quietness that made me nervous for him.

“Yes, Mother,” Ben answered as she walked to the elevator leaving me alone with Ben.  Turning to me, he stuffed his hands in the pockets of his khaki pants. “Sahara… I don’t know what to say. Please let me explain.”