IF I WERE YOUR WOMAN (5 page)

“No,” Ray admitted truthfully. Food was the last thing on his mind.  Calls to his family, business manager and band members, as well as his attorney had superseded everything else. Within the hour, they’d all converged at his home to lend their support. God knows he appreciated their concern, but their outpouring of support became overwhelming. Ray asked them to leave because he needed to be alone. He’d wanted to share his diagnosis with Laney from the moment he stepped foot out of Dr. DiMaggio’s office, but fear intervened. He hadn’t meant to be short with her, but causally telling her he had testicular cancer when he hadn’t come to terms with the diagnosis himself prompted his outburst.

“Shall we go inside,” Laney said when Raphael made no effort to move. She silently led the way down the hallway into the family room. 

Ray closed the door and followed. He clenched his fists and resisted the urge to grab her and hold on tight. At that moment, he needed an anchor against the storm. With his hands behind his back, he paced the length of the room. It was safer for him, safer for them both, if there was distance between them. He’d promised not to touch her because if he did, the words he needed to say might remain unspoken. He halted mid-stride and stuffed sweaty palms inside his pants pockets.

Laney patted the empty space next to the sofa where she sat. “Let’s talk—”

“We don’t need to talk. I-I just need you to listen to me for a sec. All right?”

Laney folded her hands on her lap. “All right. I’m listening.”

Ray fused his left hand at the base of his neck. “We need to put the brakes on things.”

Laney wasn’t shocked by Ray’s statement. Before he opened his mouth, she had a fairly good idea from his subtle movements that what he was about to say wasn’t what she wanted to hear. She didn’t cry. She never let herself do that. Her chest heaved, and with soft, labored breaths, she struggled to control her emotions. “Are you no longer attracted to me?”

“Don’t go there, Red.” Ray paused. “I-it’s just that the timing is all jacked up.”

“Raphael, just because you have cancer doesn’t mean we can’t be together.”

“Red
…
” Ray sat next to her with his hands clasped between his legs. The only body part that moved was his head. He held her gaze for a moment. “I can’t give you what you need
…
not now.”

Laney saw a raw pain, an almost brutal anger reflected in his eyes. She wanted to wrap him in her embrace and somehow help him deal with this situation. She scooted along the sofa until her thigh touched his. She put her slim hand on top of his much larger one. “Darling, you have one of the most treatable forms of cancer there is.”

Laney’s term of endearment coupled with her staunch declaration of his prognosis was about the only bright spot of his day. Still, Ray knew there were some difficult days ahead. He glanced at her again. Sharing his most private emotions with a woman was something he’d never done. If there was one lesson he’d learned from his years in the music industry was not to put his trust in everyone. Only a scant few had earned his confidence over the years. He squeezed his eyes shut. How had this soft-spoken woman garnered his trust without even trying?

Did she really mean what she’d told him—that his cancer didn’t matter? Or was she simply going through the motions to make him feel better? Right now, the last thing he needed was a pity party. The light overhead shone directly down on her and cast a soft glow on her head. Ray wanted to release the soft, reddish curls from the comb and run his fingers through it. God, she looked like an angel, his angel. His insides knotted. His mind should be on the fact he had cancer, but it wasn’t. He needed to touch her. Ever so slowly, his hand turned, his fingers wrapping around hers.

Ray glanced down at the petite hand inside of his. “It was twenty-six years ago.” His voice was low and strained. “I lost my
mère
to germ cell ovarian cancer. She died in my arms on my twelfth birthday.” He went silent for a moment, then shuddered, the expression in his eyes void as he thought back on that day. “She was diagnosed shortly after she found out she was pregnant with Aimee,” he said, referring to his youngest sister. “She absolutely refused to undergo any type of treatment she felt would put Aimee in danger. Two months after she was born,
mère
died.”

The picture was clearer now. Laney knew Ray’s mother had died when he was young. Knowing the cause of her death explained why he feared his diagnosis.

“Raphael, I’m not going to sit here and tell you I know how you feel because I don’t. Sometimes, we can’t fully understand things until we go through the experience ourselves. Nor will I sugarcoat things by telling you what you’re facing isn’t serious or that it will be easy. I can tell you this. You
will
need the support of your family and friends to get through this.”

Ray went on and told Laney everything Dr. DiMaggio had explained to him about the orchiectomy, the procedure to remove his cancerous left testicle. “And you sure they can do this on an outpatient basis?”

Laney nodded. “Yes. Usually you’re admitted early in the morning and if everything goes well, you’ll be released later that day. I plan to be with you.”

“No!”

“Raphael—”

“Red, I said no, so drop it.” Ray shouted back. A second later, he was halfway across the room.

Laney called out softly from behind, her voice strained as she fought against the tears. “You need to know something.”

Ray halted, but didn’t turn around.

“The cancer doesn’t change anything for me.”

“Don’t say that,” Ray muttered. Maybe it didn’t matter to her, but it did to him. If he thought the odds were the least bit in his favor that he’d be the same after surgery and treatment as he was now, he’d reconsider his position. Suddenly, frustration hit him hard and fast. He was defenseless to a disease he had no control over, aggravated he couldn’t do a doggone thing about, and filled with rage because it now forced him to walk away for the one and only woman who mattered to him. “I-I can’t put you through this.”

“I’m willing to risk it.”

The strong, quiet, admission sobered him, but it wasn’t enough. “I’m not.”

Ray squared his shoulders and walked out the room.

~ ~ ~

The moment Laney opened the door and saw her grandfather, Charles O’Reilly, she knew he was worried. Her bogus smile wobbled, then disappeared altogether. She walked into his arms and placed her head on his chest.  

Charles rocked her gently back and forth. “Raphael will be just fine, sweetheart,” he said in a soft, gentle tone.

Laney raised her head and smiled in earnest this time. “I know. I only wish Raphael could believe that, too.” 

“I spoke to Zamora right before you walked in.”

“Is everything okay?”

Charles nodded, noting the worried expression in her green eyes. “Don’t take anything Raphael said personally. According to Zamora, Raphael is having a tough time dealing with all of this. He won’t even talk with her, and you know how close the two of them are.”

“I’m not surprised, Poppy. Raphael is a private man, sometimes too private. He has a hard time letting others get close to him.”

Charles placed a kiss at Laney’s temple and hugged her closer. “So what are you going to do?”

Laney shrugged. “There’s really nothing I can do at this point.”

“When you were growing up, what was the one thing I always reminded you of?”

“The fervent prayer of a righteous man availed much.”

Charles offered a smile filled with wisdom. “Well, I don’t see where the situation with Raphael is any different.”

~ ~ ~

“How ya feeling, son?” Mama Z stood at the threshold of the bedroom door and posed her question.

With his eyes closed, Ray lay in the middle of his bed with his hands tucked under his head. It was Christmas Eve. Since the day he’d undergone surgery, he’d spent most of his time in this very spot, staring at the ceiling. This was complete bull and all jacked up. Okay, so he hadn’t been a saint when it came to women. He’d be the first to admit that he’d danced in and out of their beds for his own selfish pleasure, but was cancer his atonement?

Ray opened his eyes and turned his head sideways to focus at the door and released a sarcastic chuckle. “Other than being tore up from the floor up, I’m great.”

Mama Z walked in and sat on the side of the bed. “Boy, I raised ya from twelve, and I knows just as good when ya bothered by somethin’. Now what is it?”

Ray blew out a hard breath. “Why me, Mama Z?” he shouted, angrily and sat upright. “Why did I have to get cancer?”

She grabbed both his hands and tugged until he looked at her. “Son, only God knows the answer to that question.”

“Mama Z, I ain’t feeling God right about now.”

“Now ya listen to me, boy, and I wants ya to listen to me good. Ya got some difficult days ahead of ya. Now ain’t the time to be running from God. If anything, ya outta be running to Him. Understand me?”

Ray ran both hands down his face. “Things were just starting to roll for me. Know what I mean?” Before he knew it, he blurted out, “I had even gotten together with Red…”

“Son, that child ain’t going no where.” Mama Z reached up and stroked the side of his face. “It ain’t the cancer that’s got ya troubled. It’s Laney, ain’t it?”

Ray reminded silent.

Mama Z offered a warm smile. “That’s a strong woman ya got, son. That child don’ for ya what everyone else in this family been doing.”

“What’s that?”

“Pray.”

“Oh, so you heard Red praying from half way around the globe?” Ray asked sharply. 

“Naw, I heard her right in Oakland,” Mama Z pointed out.

“You mean Red didn’t go to Stockholm?”

Smiling, Mama Z shook her head sideways. 

Stunned, Ray stared at his grandmother slack jawed. After ten long years of grueling research, Laney missed a once in a lifetime opportunity to be recognized for it. Her unquestioning belief in her faith and her sacrifice on his behalf seeped down to the marrow in his bones. What was more alarming was that this petite creature had a knack of touching nerves he never knew existed.

“Son, when ya gonna call her?”

“I can’t,” Ray whispered in a hoarse tone.

Mama Z lifted her brow. “Ya can’t or ya won’t?”

“Where’s Red at now?”

Mama Z shrugged. “Since ya wouldn’t talk to her or see her, guess she got tired and went on back home.”

“But—”

“Uh-uh,” Mama Z interrupted and held up a silencing hand. “I don’ told all of y’all, I don’t get in grown folks business. Ya needs to be talkin’ to Laney, not me.”

“I know,” Ray whispered and squeezed his grandmother’s hand. He’d hesitated to speak with anyone about his illness, including his family and close circle of associates. “Maybe when this is over—” He stopped because he didn’t want to make a promise, especially to his grandmother that he might not be able to keep.

Mama Z smiled. “Son, been on this journey a long time. Every now and then, God sends folks into our lives when we needs ‘em the most. Laney is ya godsend.”

“How you get to be so smart, old lady?”

“’Cause I don’ been where ya tryin’ to get to.” Mama Z stood. “Want ya to remember somethin’ for me.”

Ray stared, confused. “What’s that Mama Z?”

“The will of God will never take ya where the grace of God won’t protect ya.”

~ ~ ~

“What the hell do you mean my medical records were breeched?” The next morning, Ray sat at the white baby grand piano in the recording studio at his estate. His voice escalated with each word. “I checked in under an assumed name. How did this happen? Talk to me,
mon frère
.”   

Alex sat next to Ray and held up his hand. “Listen partner, I said your records
might
have been breeched. The hospital administrator called me this morning with the news, and he’s already launched a full investigation.” He placed a hand on Ray’s shoulder. “Listen, buddy, this could be nothing more than a false alarm, but as the person in charge of your security detail, I don’t want to take any chances.” 

Ray slammed both fists against the piano keys. This was exactly what he’d feared. Although he’d taken every precaution necessary to protect his identity, if some nosey employee put two and two together, the nature of his illness could be exposed. It was bad enough to deal with cancer, but he didn’t need the added stress of his diagnosis leaking to the media. 

For a celebrity, publicity was one thing, but this type of news? It was a killer. Image was everything in the music industry. If the paparazzi ever got wind of his illness, they’d circle him like a pack of vultures over a week-old carcass. Before he could blink, the news would be splattered on the front page of every ragtime tabloid in the country. How was he supposed to announce to the world he had cancer when he hadn’t come to terms with it himself?

Ray knew Alex was on top of the situation. The top-notch private investigator had provided the security detailed for Les Croisés from day one. The man who was as close to him as his two blood brothers could get to the bottom of things when others failed.