Saint's Sacrament - Sins of the Father (67 page)

Saint stepped into the shower and snatched the clear curtain closed then reached for his bath gel. “Couldn’t sleep soundly so I may as well get ready to go. I think I’ll go over a bit earlier, just in case it takes longer.”

Xenia nodded, her head down. She looked saddened, but she kept her worries to herself. Well, not exactly. He was hooked into her
; she just wanted everything to be all right, and why wouldn’t she be concerned? Her husband was going to once again take someone’s ailments away and have to self-heal. He was still whirling a bit from their stay in the hospital, but he wouldn’t admit it. He didn’t want to have yet another thing to ponder. There were so many things to consider. He’d be in pain no doubt, and things could go awry. But she agreed to try to trust him, and she was sticking by her word.

“What are the kids doing?” he looked over at her distorted image through the curtain, water droplets fell hard and fast against it, making her appear as if she were melting. She kept her head down, hugged herself tight and crossed her ankles.

“Watching a movie. We played and ate dinner.” Her voice was low and soaked in sorrow. It hurt his heart.

“I know you just showered, but
…” He peeked around the curtain to get a better view of her. “You wanna get in here with me? Give me a kiss before I go?”

Xenia slowly lifted her head and smiled at him.
A sad smile, tinged with hopefulness. Wisdom and strength shone in her gaze.  . Without saying a word, she disrobed. Stepping back, he made room for his muse to step inside, her body soon streaming with warm water. He placed a dollop of mint shower gel in his hand, rubbed his palms together and bathed her from head to toe. Most of the time, he looked into her eyes, occasionally planting a soft kiss upon her lips and cheek. Starting at the nape of her neck, he traced her skin tenderly with his fingertips. Sliding in closer to her, he pressed his stomach against her body and kissed her collar bone. She sighed and held him tighter as he sucked her earlobe and planted another kiss on her jawline before dipping low and running the tip of his tongue over her erect, wet nipples. Cupping his hands around her small waist, he stared at her. The dim lighting and water running down her skin made her appear almost surreal…angelic.

Aroused beyond belief, he
slid his tongue inside her mouth, grinding against her body in a slow rhythm. Before things got too far, he stopped himself and switched off the water. They exited the shower, dried off and got dressed. He wished he had a bit more time with her and that the children were asleep, but he could hear them laughing at the movie in the next room. Zipping up his pants and checking himself over in the mirror, he slid his wedding band on and kissed her forehead, then took her by the hand, leading her out where the children sat huddled together with juice boxes and a half eaten bowl of popcorn. Isis was asleep, lying between two couch cushions Xenia had removed and placed there earlier.

Dakarai looked up.
“Daddy!”

Saint smiled and put his finger over his lips
. “Shhhh, little man,” he whispered. “I’m heading out, okay? Be good for Mommy.” He knelt low and kissed both of his sons on their cheeks, and took a moment to stare at Isis. He knew he wasn’t objective, but she was the most beautiful little girl he’d ever seen—and she was all his. He gently brushed her dark waves out of her face and kissed her forehead before getting back to his feet. As Xenia walked him to the door, he could feel Hassani’s eyes on him. The boy hadn’t said one word. Like his mother, he was worried, but he knew Daddy needed to leave. Saint stopped at the door, his back still turned.

“Hassani
.” He sighed heavily. “Come ’ere.” The boy got to his feet and did as told. Saint cupped the boy’s cheeks in his hands as he looked down at him. “Everything is going to be okay, all right? I promise.”

“I love Grandpa. I don’t want him to be sick.”

“I don’t either, Hassani. That’s why I’m doing this.”

“I like
Kyung Mi. Did I say it right? Is that his girlfriend?”

Saint laughed
. Xenia gave a weak smile, stood behind her son and put her hands on the boy’s shoulders.

“
Yes, you said her name perfectly. That’s grandpa’s girlfriend. I like her too, Hassani. I have to go. I will see you in the morning, okay?”

Hassani nodded and hugged his father around the
thighs. He’d had a growth spurt that had taken Saint by surprise. He leaned over Hassani’s head, placed a soft kiss on Xenia’s lips and cupped her chin.

“I love you
,” he said, looking deep into her eyes.

He opened
the door to find Jagger standing right outside in a black tank top and black jeans, leaning casually against the hotel hall wall playing with his cell phone, dark shades covering his eyes.

“You ready, man?”
he asked, sliding the phone into his pocket.

Saint nodded, looked back into the hotel room and winked at Xenia before closing the door
behind himself…

~***~

Saint and Jagger sat practically on top of each other on the small couch, looking across at Osaze and Kyung Mi. She returned Saint’s gaze, her expression tight, like a fist about to punch a wall.

“I
—I don’t understand,” she said.

Osaze sighed and took her hand. “
Saint figured you may have this reaction. He thought maybe showing you would make it easier, than telling you. You see, Kyung Mi, my son has the same gift as I and so does his friend, Jagger here.”

Jagger nodded in her direction, offering a smile.

“Actually, Saint’s power is far stronger and more advanced than mine. We are all born with different levels of the gifts.”

“I believe in
spirits.” She clasped her hands together, looking rather serious. “I believe in psychics. I’ve just…never heard of it quite this way. I’ve never heard of Angel Children.” She looked around at everyone, her eyes suspicious. “I’m not sure of what to make of this.” She looked down into her lap and shuffled her feet around nervously, bunching up the worn, threadbare rug beneath them. Saint took a moment to collect his thoughts.

“And this is why I invited you to be a part of this tonight. Normally, it would have been just my father and I. My friend here,”
—he glanced at Jagger—“is here to help monitor that things are going smoothly and should you feel uncomfortable at any point, you let Jagger know, and you will be free to go. Just don’t try to interrupt the process. I’m taking a big chance here.” He glanced at his father. “But, it’s worth it if it will help you. Seeing is believing. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go to the restroom and wash my hands. Dad, as we discussed, I need you to undress down to your shorts. We will do it right here in the living room.” Saint got on his feet and pointed to the table.

Jagger stood and effortlessly picked the table up from the floor, with all of its contents,
without spilling or causing one item to slide, and carted it off to the kitchen. Kyung Mi looked at the man in amazement. Osaze sighed and stood. Saint couldn’t help but notice that the old man was shaking. He walked up to his father and placed his hand on his shoulder, smiling at him. “She knows now. So, let’s begin.” And then he disappeared while Jagger took care of the rest of the preparations…

~***~

Xenia looked at the clock and twisted yet another thick ringlet of hair around her finger. The children were asleep, and she was holed up in the master suite of the hotel apartment. Room service could only distract her so much. She looked absentmindedly over at the tray with a half eaten bowl of red seedless grapes, thinly sliced pieces of sharp cheddar cheese and the remains of a fresh mozzarella and tomato salad. She’d polished off half the bottle of Godello Alma De Blanco.

‘Breakfast at Tiffany’s played on the television in high-definition while she hiked the crisp, white sheets around her
. Keeping her long black gown on, she felt cozy but she hated sleeping without him, especially during times like this. He didn’t need her giving him the blues about this, but she’d wanted to scream, ‘Don’t go!’ Was it selfish? Possibly, but her first priority was her children. She didn’t want them to end up like her, growing up without a father. She was relieved that Jagger was there and the man had pulled her aside, assuring her he would not allow Saint to put himself in harm’s way, to reach that point of no return. She trusted Jagger implicitly, and though she didn’t like that Traci had no idea what the man was capable of, she understood why. It wasn’t the sort of thing a person may necessarily be comfortable disclosing. Nevertheless, according to Saint, he’d agreed to do the right thing and for that, she’d be grateful so she could start the Angel Child Wives Support Group. Right now, she was all-alone and she wished so badly she could speak to someone just like her who could soothe her and make it all right.

Mama would never understand. Porsche would think she was tak
ing drugs. Stacey would believe she’d gone crazy and she and Donna were not close enough where she felt she could reach out to her in her time of need. Xenia hoped that would change soon for in her interactions with Donna, she recognized they shared that sort of pain. Yet the woman had a wall up, one Xenia guessed was there to keep hurt away. She was married to a wonderful man like Lawrence, yet that didn’t stop the taste of past tragedy from lingering inside.

And besides, the woman was dealing with a complicated pregnancy. Xenia didn’t want to burden her with her problems. She la
y back, crossed her arms and pouted as she looked at the television screen. Not even Audrey Hepburn and George Peppard could cure this funk. She snatched the remote from off the bed, taking hold of it as if it had cursed her, and pressed the red button. The screen went black. Then she picked up the loaded tray and placed it on the floor. Yawning, she punched her pillow to make a nice indent, and plopped her head onto it, hoping and praying to get a little sleep though she knew it would be an uphill battle. She’d set her clock to wake in two hours, just in case she fell asleep, so Saint could get that kiss goodnight he’d requested. As the hotel grew pleasantly quiet, a strange noise moments later caused her eyes to flutter. It reminded her of two wine glasses clinking lightly together, a toast of sorts. She sat up and hitched her breath so she could be one hundred percent certain she hadn’t dreamt the entire thing up.

No. There it was again, and again…

Xenia flung the sheets off of her, slid on her house shoes and opened the double doors. She was sure she’d find Hassani and Dakarai horsing around.

I’m used to Saint having to do this shit.
She gritted her teeth as she made her way through the living room and past the kitchen area. She popped open their door, ready to tell them to get their behinds back in the sack, but all she saw were two sleeping boys in a Queen sized bed. Dakarai was snoring. She stood there for quite some time, wondering if they’d gotten back in their beds before she’d arrived but that was impossible. They were definitely asleep.

Clink…clink…clink
…clink…clink

There it was again…

Xenia raced toward the hotel door. It was closed, secured and locked. Sighing, she went to Isis’ room, believing perhaps she was awake and had gotten her hands on a toy or two. She opened the door, and her suspicions were correct…only Isis wasn’t holding the toys, she was making them spin around and around and around. The little girl looked at her, then started to giggle and coo.

She pointed up in the air at the clear balls, swirling around her tiny head.

“Ma-ma! Fly! Flying, Ma-ma!”

~***~

When Saint re-entered the living room, a thin trail of smoke from an incense holder carved out of jade and ivory traveled the air in the all-too-familiar yet comforting aroma of Nag Champa. On the couch sat Kyung Mi, her legs pressed together and her knee-length Band-Aid colored skirt vibrating from her jerky, nervous movements. Her hands were flat on her thighs, and her dark eyes took everything in. Jagger stood off to the side, his jacket removed and shoes off. On the floor, over a red silk blanket, lay his father, stiff as a board. The old man’s eyes were closed and his hands were folded across his bare stomach. Saint cocked his head to the side as he glared at him. He looked at rest, as if he were in a casket, and he found it disturbing. Pushing that feeling out of his mind, he knelt to the left side of his father and began to silently pray over him.

As he did so, he could feel Kyung Mi
’s stare boring into his back. He knew she wanted to run away, but her curiosity compelled her to stay. This was a rare opportunity. She would get to witness a healing—something Angel Children did in the privacy of their homes with no audience to speak of. It was a secluded matter and treated with respect.

Starting at
the top of his father’s hair, he ran his hand lightly over the man’s face, scanning him, trying to detect any signs of weakness and pain. He continued on, occasionally hearing a clearing of a throat or someone shuffling in their seat. After a while, he could hear nothing at all…

Saint stopped as he reached his father’s stomach. He grinded his teeth
when his body felt the man’s internal angst. He pushed forward, running his hands up and down his legs until he’d reached the bottom of his feet. Saint leaned back, placing his hands on his thighs in his kneeled position. He opened his eyes and looked at his father, who still lay peacefully on the rug. He then straddled his father and placed his hand directly over the man’s heart. Osaze’s eyes fluttered, but he remained calm.