Never Say Never (26 page)

I waited until they were inside LaTonya's room before I turned around and walked down the long hall toward the elevator. I wasn't looking forward to telling Jamal, even though I knew he'd understand. But it already felt like I'd been away from home twenty-four-seven since the fire. Now I had to tell him I'd be away for the next seven days.

For the first time in my marriage, I felt like I was making a choice between my career and my husband, though that's not what I wanted to do. To me, Jamal would always come first. It was just that in this case, with this little girl, this had to be done. There was a life to be saved.

By the time I slid into my car, I knew that I was doing the right
thing. I was using the gift that God had given me to help someone who couldn't help herself. What could be more important than that?

Jamal would understand that, and for at least the one hundredth time in the last twenty-four hours, I thanked God for the man He'd given me.

25

Miriam

I
t wasn't anything we planned, nothing we'd discussed, but Jamal and I fell into a routine. Though it had only been a week since the first time we'd been together, I felt like I'd been living a lifetime of wonderful days with this man.

It had been much easier for us since Mama Cee and Charlie left. In the mornings, I made sure that Junior got on his school bus, I dropped Mikey and Stevie off at their school, and then I came home and pretended I wasn't walking by the front window every ten minutes to check to see if that white Chrysler was there.

Sometime between eleven and noon, Jamal would pull up to the curb, honk once, and I would pull my car out of the garage so he could pull his inside.

While I always pretended that I hadn't been waiting for Jamal, he always pretended that he was just stopping by. He came with his own pretense: bearing papers that needed to be signed or photos of Chauncey he was sure I'd never seen. He always came with something that allowed us both to fake it, though he always came with condoms, too. So we both knew what was going to happen.

And it happened. Every day. We made love.

Never in a million years did I imagine that I would be cheating with anyone, let alone Jamal Taylor. And with everything that I believed, I should have felt horrible about what I was doing.

But I didn't. Because I needed Jamal right now. He was helping me rebuild my heart so that I could breathe again, live again.

Being with Jamal wasn't just about sex. We talked. We laughed. With him, it was safe to cry. And through it all, he held me. He held me the way I'd never been held in my past, he held me the way Chauncey had held me in the present, and he held me, letting me know that I could have a wonderful life ahead.

Before Jamal, I'd been surrounded by nothing but darkness. Now, every day, there was a bit more light.

And Jamal brought light to my sons, too. In the afternoon, he'd pick up Mikey and Stevie, and by the time Junior came home, Jamal was already in the kitchen, helping the boys with their homework. Afterward, they'd play video games, watch TV, or we would just all hang around and talk. And the best part: most of the time, Jamal stayed for dinner.

Moving to Arizona was far from our minds now. We had a wonderful family right here.

With the boys, we lived as families lived. And Jamal and I loved as lovers did. Each day was better, and this morning had been the best.

I'd met him at the garage door, but the moment he stepped inside, he was all over me. He kissed me and ripped open my blouse like he was a hungry teenager. We giggled as he kicked off his shoes, then I tore away his shirt. Our clothes left a trail of lust as we staggered to the bedroom. By the time we got there, I was naked. A few seconds later, I made sure that Jamal was naked, too.

Like always, I was floating by the time we finished, and there was no one in the world happier than me. It felt good not to have the pretense
this time. Jamal had come here for me, I had been here for him.

After lying still for a while, he said, “Wait here a second, I have something to show you.”

He jumped from the bed and, without any modesty, traipsed across the bedroom, butt-naked. Watching him made me sigh and pull the sheet up over myself even more. He never made me feel like he noticed the cottage cheese on my thighs or the fact that my behind truly needed its own zip code.

I ran my hand over the pillow where he'd just laid his head. Closing my eyes, I pressed my nose against the case, soaking in the scent that he'd left behind. He'd been gone for just seconds and I missed him already.

“You haven't seen any of these,” Jamal said, jumping back into the bed.

I sat up and leaned against him as he opened yet another album with plastic-protected photos of him and Chauncey.

“This is proof of what I was telling you,” he said proudly. “Proof that we were the kings of the King of Pop's fan club.”

As he flipped deliberately through each picture, sharing all the whens, wheres, and whys, I let my mind wander.

I asked myself, what is this?

The first time Jamal and I had sex, I'd been sure that it was just one moment in time. Then one time became two, three, and four moments. And now being with him was beginning to feel . . . permanent. I was beginning to feel . . . important to him because he was spending more time with me than he was spending with his wife.

Whenever I thought of Emily, my gut twisted.

The only good thing was that I hadn't heard from her since this had become . . . become what? An affair? I'd expected to be ducking and dodging her calls, but she hadn't reached out to me at all.

I didn't dare ask Jamal about Emily, not wanting to bring up her
name. Because then I'd have to talk about what the hell I was doing to the woman I still loved like a sister. And talking about her could remind Jamal that I was not Emily.

So I took the low road, not mentioning her and glad that I hadn't heard from her. Glad that she was probably deep into a case, helping a child who couldn't help herself. That thought made my heart twist with my gut. Emily was saving children while I was screwing her husband.

God forgive me, but I just wanted Jamal for a little while. He wasn't my husband, and one day, I'd have to give him back.

“You can keep this one,” Jamal said, nudging my attention back to him.

I looked down at the photo of Chauncey and Jamal, dressed like miniature firemen.

“Awww . . . when did you take that?”

He leaned back. “Have you been listening? This was the first Halloween after we decided we were going to become firefighters. We were determined and getting these costumes was proof.”

“So cool to know what you wanted to be when you were young, and then to grow up and actually do it. To live your passion . . .”

My blinking eyes were signals that I was thinking about how Chauncey's passion had killed him. Jamal closed the photo album, tossed it aside, then wrapped his arms around me.

“Are you okay?” he whispered.

“Yeah.” Looking up at him, I said, “I am.”

There was so much more I wanted to say. Like how my heart was changing because of him. But I couldn't say that. So I tore my gaze away and scooted to the other side of the bed.

“I'm going to get some orange juice,” I said, because I couldn't think of anything else to do. “Do you want a glass?”

“Nah, I'm cool.”

I wrapped myself in the sheet and then traipsed into the living room, stepping over our clothes along the way. In the kitchen, I quickly poured a glass, but right when I walked past the front door, I saw a shadow and then the doorbell rang.

“Miriam!” Michellelee shouted. “Miriam, girl, open the door.”

I froze right where I was.

“Miriam!”

There were a couple of reasons why I couldn't just stand there. First, my car was in the driveway, and in that instant, I thanked God that it was my car and not Jamal's. And, secondly, she'd seen me, or at least the outline of me through the door's side glass panels, which were covered with only sheer curtains.

“Miriam! I know you're right there. Come on!”

That proved it; she had seen me. Quickly, I devised a plan. Wrapping the sheet a little tighter, I opened the door, but only slightly.

I coughed. “Hey, Michellelee, I'm not . . .”

But she blew up my plan, pushing past me and barging into my home.

“I rushed over to tell you,” she said, sounding out of breath. “They caught the arsonist. Someone's been arrested for setting fire to the school.”

Every single thought I had flew right out of my mind with this news. “Oh, my God!” My hand was shaking as I set my orange juice on the table by the door. “So, it
was
arson?”

“Yup! I told you.”

“Who was it?” I asked, as if I would know someone who would do something so heinous.

She shook her head. “Some crazy man who said he was getting back at the president because he wasn't born in this country and was using the Social Security number of a dead man in Virginia.”

“What?”

“You can't make this stuff up.”

“Oh, my God,” I said, sitting on the settee by the door. “I can't believe this.” Then I looked up at Michellelee and saw that her eyebrows were knitted so close together she had a unibrow.

I gasped as my eyes followed her gaze. She was staring at the trail of clothing that led to the bedroom.

She said nothing at first, but then she whispered, “Is there somebody here?”

Now, I could've lied. I could've told her that those clothes belonged to the boys. But she would never have believed it. Especially since Jamal's size 13 sneakers were on top of the pile.

“Yes.” I stood up, grabbed her hand, and pulled her back toward the door. “But . . . but . . . but, it's just that . . .”

“Oh, no, girl!” Michellelee leaned back on one leg, put her hand on her hip, and gazed at me as if she was impressed. “Honey, I'm happy for you. Get your freak on.”

I groaned because there was nothing freaky about this.

“This is good, Miriam.” She put her hand on my arm. “This is really a good thing.”

“Well, I just . . .” I paused. There was no way to explain this. Taking a quick look back at the bedroom, I said, “You should go.”

“Okay, yeah,” she whispered. “I understand, you don't want to introduce him to me yet.” Then she yelled out, “But one day, he's gonna have to meet your sister-friends!”

She laughed and I stood as still as a rock. She hugged me before she strutted out of the door. I rushed to close it behind her, but before I could, Michellelee turned around. “Well, if you have time after freakin' your man, check out the news this evening. It's breaking news now, but I'm going to review the whole story live at five.” She reached for my hand and squeezed it. “I'm so happy they caught this nut, but I'm also happy for you, Miriam. Go on with
your life.” With another squeeze, she was finally gone and I was able to close the door.

I leaned against it, really just wanting to die.

Jamal had heard it all, I was sure of that. Slowly, I returned to the bedroom, and I'd half expected him to be dressed and ready to go. But then I remembered that most of his clothes were on the floor, the evidence in the living room.

He sat on the edge of the bed. “Does she know it was me?”

I shook my head.

“Okay, then.” He breathed. “I'd better go.”

“Jamal, please . . .”

It must've been the fear in my voice that made him say, “It'll be all right.”

Still, I wanted to protest. I wanted to ask him about the boys; they'd be expecting him today, tomorrow, and the next day.

But then he said, “I just need to go right now,” and I exhaled as he hurried into the bathroom to shower.

We'd been in our own world until Michellelee busted in. And now that she had committed this home invasion, would our lives change?

I was so afraid that it would all be different now.

26

Emily

I
t had been four days. Four solid days of talking and crying and reading and crying and drawing and crying. And, finally, there was a breakthrough. Finally, LaTonya was talking more about her mom and dad than she was talking about her sister. For the last twenty-four hours, she hadn't said a word about wanting to go to heaven.

What was going on with LaTonya felt good, but I wasn't really sure how to measure success with such a young child.

I was hopeful, but I didn't know.

I did feel, though, that LaTonya was making enough progress that after four days, I could go home. At least for a couple of hours.

I needed a bear-size hug and so much more from my husband.

As I steered the car out of the parking lot, I thought about calling Jamal. I'd spoken to him this morning, but that was before Dr. Caster agreed that I could take a couple of hours without one of my colleagues being there.

I picked up the phone, then tossed it back. Surprising him would be so much better.

I'd only driven a block away from the hospital when my cell phone rang, and before I looked down, I prayed that it wasn't Dr. Caster.

I glanced at the screen and smiled. “Hey, Red,” I said to Michellelee.

“Doctor Harrington-Taylor, where have you been? I've been calling and calling. Calling your cell, calling you at home. I was about to use my contacts at LAPD and send out the blue cavalry.”

“I'm sorry. I haven't been able to talk on my cell. I've been staying at Children's Hospital for a few days.”

“Oh.” Michellelee toned her voice down. “Related to the fire?”

“Yes,” I said. “It's starting to look good, though. But you didn't catch Jamal when you called my apartment? He could have told you I was working.”

“I called a couple of times, but only got your voice mail. Did he go back to work?”