The Sweetest Love (Love Conquers All Book 5) (6 page)

Three days earlier

Jenkintown Starbucks

“Mmm, mmm, mmm! Girl, you still look good!”

Reba rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. The man sitting across from her at one time had been her everything. She would even go so far as to admit he was the air she breathed. If he told her the sky was purple she would have believed him and dared anyone to say it was actually blue.

What did she know? She was barely eighteen and just out of high school when she met the handsome groundskeeper of the apartment complex she lived in with her father and stepmother.

Their meeting started off innocently enough. She’d always give him a hurried hello as she rushed past him to the bus stop. One particular morning she was running extremely late for an early morning English class at Community College. She’d been grateful when he offered to give her a ride so she wouldn’t miss her mid-term exam. And as they say, the rest is history.

After all these years the sting of his betrayal still cut deep. Not so much the grown- up Reba, but the young girl who had fallen so hard for him. So many times she wanted to curse the day she accepted that ride. But then a tiny part of her saw it as a blessing because the one good thing he had ever done in his miserable life was to give her Roxanna.

The sucker had a nerve to still be handsome. The gray hair at his temples gave him that distinguished gentleman look.

He must have come into some good fortune because he wasn’t shabby looking and he had pulled up in a decent car. It didn’t matter how good he looked or the car he drove. Whatever he was selling, she wasn’t buying.

“Thank you, but I didn’t come out here for you to tell me how good I look, Harold,” she all but snarled. He was up to something and she knew it.

“Damn baby, you don’t have to be so cold,” Harold drawled, a grin curving his lips. Chuckling, he added, “I remember a time when you were the sweetest little thing.”

Irritated, Reba threw her handbag over her shoulder. She wasn’t about to sit here while he played his games. “Listen, I don’t have time for this.” She pushed her chair back and stood to go.

Harold reached out and grabbed her wrist. He quickly released her when her eyes flashing with anger dropped to his hand touching her and then back up to his face. “Come on now, don’t go. I need to talk to you,” he pleaded, turning serious.

He had thought long and hard about contacting Reba. When his plan of getting his wife back didn’t work, he tried reaching out to his daughters. He was certain they would want him involved in the lives of his grandchildren.

He had messed up at being in the running for Father of the Year, but he certainly could make a go out of being a splendid grandfather. Unfortunately for him, his daughters didn’t see it that way. They had pretty much told him the damage he’d done was beyond repair. And although they forgave him for abandoning them over and over again, there was no room for him in their lives. They’d even gone so far as to forbid a relationship with the grandchildren.

It was that stuck up Starr, who was just like her damn mother, who denied him first. “You will not run in and out of my children’s lives hurting them the way you did me and my sister. When they get older and
if
they want a relationship with you, I’ll contact you.” And wouldn’t you know it, that weak, no backbone of a sister of hers agreed with her and had given him the same speech.

An anger that he had never known welled up inside of him from their rejection. How dare they not want any parts of him! After all, he was their blood and not that man masquerading as father and grandfather. To hell with them all! He had another daughter that was just probably dying to know him.

When Reba didn’t make a move to sit down or ask what he wanted to talk about, he boldly demanded, “I want to see my daughter.”

Reba’s knees buckled, forcing her to flop back down in the wooden chair. She felt like she’d been sucker punched in the gut. A host of emotions began to assault her all at once. She wanted to jump up and down, and scream until her throat was raw for all of Jenkintown to know what a rotten bastard he was. Hell, picking up the chair with him in it, and hurling it through the glass window would do, too, if she had the strength.

If she didn’t think she would go to jail, she’d stab him in the eye with every key on her key ring. Leaning forward, she rested her elbow on the table. “Come here,” she whispered as she motioned for him lean across the table.

She wanted, no needed, him to know she was not playing with him when it came to
her
child. She’d given him two different occasions to be part of Roxy’s life. The first when she told him about her pregnancy. The second was when Roxy was eight years old and began to ask questions about her father. Both times he denied her. And now he had a nerve to want to get to know
his
twenty-six year old daughter.
Niggah, please!

Through clenched teeth she gritted out, “You dirty son-of-a-bitch. You don’t get to call her
your
daughter. You gave up that right a long time ago.” Leaning back in her chair, she shot daggers at him. “Remember?”

All traces of charm evaporated. Harold’s grinning face twisted into a mask of contempt. Oh yeah, he remembered alright. He remembered her trying to tie him down with another child. He remembered being boxed into a corner by another woman. Why couldn’t they understand that all he wanted was a good time? But then the years began to fly by and before he knew it, he was a lonely middle-aged man. He deserved to have one of his children show him some sort of love and affection.

“She is my daughter whether you like it or not,” he spat out just as heatedly.

Leaning in his face again, Reba issued a challenge. Reaching into her purse, she pulled out her cell phone. “I tell you what. If you can tell me what your daughter’s name is, I’ll call her right now and tell her to come down here to meet you.”

Harold’s mind raced.
Her name… her name… I don’t even know my own daughter’s name!

The mask he wore crumbled. Every argument he had died on his lips. He had come here with hopes of meeting a daughter he’d never known. But that hope had crashed, burned and died. From the murderous look on Reba’s face, he better not dare ask her something he very well should know.

All Reba could do was shake her head. What a pity. He didn’t even know his own daughter’s name. What happened to the letter and picture of Roxy she had given to him when she was finally able to track him down? Did he even read it? Did he even look at her picture? If he had, he would have seen the little girl staring back at him had his eyes, nose and full lips.

The squeezing in her chest almost made it impossible to breathe. Standing up and pushing her chair back, she looked down at him. “You are a pathetic man.” Sliding the chair back under the table, she told him, “Her name is Roxanna. Your daughter’s name is Roxanna.”

Visibly upset, Reba hurried to the door. She had to get away from this man. She didn’t mean to nearly plow down the woman coming into the coffeehouse.

“Oh excuse—”

The apology died on her lips as she and the woman locked eyes.
Oh God, this day is turning into a real nightmare.

This was the last errand of the day Donna had to run. Patrick would be coming home in the morning from his fishing trip with their grandson Kyle and Kyle’s paternal grandfather Dominic. Pulling into a parking space, she told herself she’d be in and out; just picking up a pound of her husband’s favorite coffee.

She had to brace herself as the woman charging through the door was heading her way. As the other woman reached out to steady her from hitting the ground, Donna immediately recognized the woman. She would
never
forget her face.

Reba stared at Donna for what seem like an eternity. The shame of being the other woman still clung to her after all these years. God, how she despised that man; just when she thought all this was behind her, here he comes out of the blue with his nonsense. And right now she didn’t have the energy to deal with the ramifications of his duplicity…
again
.

But here she was dealing with it. Although Donna hadn’t tried to take her head off, the look in her eyes told her she remembered. Tears stung the back of Reba’s eyes as she too remembered. “I’m so sorry,” Reba nearly sobbed as she pushed past Donna to her car.

Her hands were shaking badly as she struggled to put the key in the door. How could she be so stupid? Why had she agreed to meet him? What was she thinking?
That maybe after all this time he wanted to apologize for what he did to me and Roxy.
Reba laughed aloud at the absurd thought. “Fat chance. The only thing that jackass cares about is himself.”

“I couldn’t agree with you more.”

Startled, Reba quickly turned around to see Donna standing behind her. “I’m not messing with your husband,” she nervously said as she continued to fumble with the key.
Come on key, get in the door!

Donna gently placed her hand over Reba’s. “Harold’s not my husband anymore.”

“Thank God!” she blurted out breathing a sigh of relief. No one should have to be tied to the likes of Harold Avery, till death do they part.

Both women looked at each other and burst out laughing. “Amen to that,” Donna agreed. After the laughter died down, an uncomfortable silence settled over them. Clearing her throat, Reba broke the silence.

“I always said if I ever got the chance to see you again I would apologize to you.” Reba leaned against her car. “I told myself I would explain my side so you could know I never meant to hurt you.”

Donna leaned against the car next to Reba. Life was so funny. In a million years she would have never guessed she’d be literally face to face with one of her ex-husband’s other women, especially this one. Of all the women Harold traipsed around with, Reba had been the youngest and the prettiest. She also was the only one who hadn’t been brazen enough to flaunt that she was sleeping with her husband.

Donna gave the other woman a tiny smile. “Well today is your lucky day. After I run in here and get some coffee for my husband, we can grab a bite to eat down the road at Outback.”

“Are you sure?” Reba questioned, not believing she would want to talk to her, let alone have dinner with her.

Donna chuckled. “Of course,” she said as she began to walk away, heading back into the store. “Just drive on down there and put your name on the list,” she threw over her shoulder.

“Umm, Donna,” Reba called out hesitantly.

Donna let out a frustrated breath; all she wanted was to get her man some coffee. Turning around, the smile on her face was tight. “Yes?”

Easing into the driver’s side, Reba pointed to the door. “Harold’s right there.”

Stunned, she swung back toward the door. Sure enough Mr. Unfaithful himself was glaring at them. “Oh, damn it!”

Reba chuckled as she started her car and watched Donna breeze right past Harold. He must have tried to say something to her because she saw Donna throw her hand up in his face and keep right on sashaying to the counter.

Storming out of the coffeehouse, Harold hissed, “Bitches.”

“Well… where do I begin,” Reba hesitated after they handed their menus back to the waiter after placing their orders.

“The beginning is a good place,” Donna encouraged, taking her napkin and placing it in her lap.

Nodding her head, she offered up a tiny smile. “Okay, the beginning it is.”

Glancing around, the area of the restaurant they had requested to be seated was pretty much isolated from the other tables. And this was a good thing, too. Because what she was about to reveal was incredible.

At the age of twelve, Reba’s mother had dropped her off to spend the last two weeks of the summer vacation with her father and stepmother. She wasn’t particularly pleased with this arrangement because she never felt wanted; neither her father nor stepmother would interact much with her during her visits.

The entire vacation was spent helping to keep the tiny apartment clean and watching television. Whenever she asked if she could go out and play with the other children she was always refused the childhood pleasure.

Reba would later learn the only reason her father agreed to the two week visit was so she could be a help to his wife who had just had bunion surgery.

Two days before her mother was to come get her, a box with all her meager belongings was delivered. Inside was a letter informing her father that it was now his turn to raise her until she turned eighteen.

Reba learned to be quiet and stay out of the way. To do this she begged her stepmother to talk her father into letting her join the after school math and science club. That lasted until her father came home early from work one day and saw her walking home with a boy. She hadn’t thought anything of it. She and Jimmy always walked home together, incessantly talking about the experiments they’d done.

That evening as soon as she rang the bell for her stepmother to let her in, her father had snatched her by the hair and began beating her and calling her whore. That was the last time she had participated in any after school activities.

When she graduated high school she won a two-year, full scholarship to Community College of Philadelphia. At eighteen she was still under her father’s thumb. With no other family, she had no choice but to obey him until she graduated from college, found a job and could fend for herself.

One of his rules was no boyfriends. “If you want to whore around, you won’t do it under my roof!”

“My goodness. Your father was a hard man,” Donna said in a soft tone as the waiter set their main courses down in front of them.

“Can I get either of you anything else?” the waiter asked.

“No, thank you,” they both said in unison.

Once the waiter was gone, Reba agreed, “Yes, he was. I told myself when I had children I would never do what my parents did to me.”

Donna couldn’t help but to feel an ache in the middle of her chest for Reba. To be abandoned by your mother at such a young age and then to have a physically abusive father wasn’t something any child deserved. It’s no wonder she fell into the hands of someone like Harold.

The women blessed their food before Reba picked up with her story.

Every morning Harold would be out maintaining the grounds. The first time he spoke to her she ignored him. No way was this good looking, older guy speaking to her.

Reba never had much confidence in her looks. Perhaps it was because her father never let her forget how she looked just like her ugly, whorish mother. But the truth was she and her mother was both beautiful with their cinnamon complexions, pretty dark large eyes, full lips and thick, long brown hair.

Thrift store clothes, no hint of makeup – not even a touch of lip gloss – and her hair tied in a knot at the back of her neck, in her opinion, made her look rather boring and plain.

Finally, one day he blocked her path and wouldn’t let her by until she spoke. From that day on she’d made it a point to speak as she hurried out to catch her bus.

“One morning my father started in on me because I forgot to pick up his shirts from the cleaners. I was upset and crying because I had a mid-term and I was going to be late.” Shaking her head, she let out a humorless laugh. “And good ‘ole Harold was waiting in the wings.”

“Aw, baby, you too pretty to be crying,” he told her as he blocked her path.

“Please leave me alone. I’m already late for class and I have a test today,” she sniffed, wiping away tears.

Harold blocked her again as she tried walking around him. “Damn baby, why didn’t you say so. I’ll give you a ride… have you there in no time. Let me just put this lawnmower away.”

Reba nervously looked over her shoulder. “I-I-I can’t. My father—”

“Just sped off a few minutes ago,” he grinned, winking at Reba.

Looking back again she weighed the consequences of someone seeing her with Harold or possibly missing her test and getting a zero. Getting a zero was out of the question since her scholarship was conditional on her academic performance. Taking a chance, she followed him to his car.

Looking across the table at Donna, she swore, “I didn’t know he was married. He never said anything about having a wife or a girlfriend. I thought because he had his own apartment—”

“He wasn’t attached,” Donna finished for her.

She’d been stunned to learn her then husband had living quarters elsewhere. Donna had no clue that one of the benefits of being groundskeeper was a one bedroom apartment on the premises. When he stayed out all night she figured he was out with his drinking buddies or at some cheap motel with another woman. The rude awakening came when a man appeared banging on her door, yelling something about her husband and his whore at the Bromley Apartments. That man was Reba’s father.

“I didn’t find out until later…” Reba confessed.

Reba made Harold promise that her father would never find out about them until she was out from under his roof. She’d told him time and time again that she had to be home by ten o’clock. The only reason she was allowed out that late was because she had lied and told her father she was at the library studying on Tuesday and Thursday nights.

Harold was very good at sweet talking a young and impressionable Reba right out of her clothes. After the clothes were out of the way, he’d tell her to take her hair down. Next came more sweet talking and kisses on the neck as he ran his fingers through her long, thick tresses.

The clock on the bedside table read nine-thirty. Usually she would have been up and dressed by now, and twisting her hair back up in a bun. And he would be laying on his back smoking a cigarette.

But this particular night, Harold was in a nasty mood and wouldn’t let her leave. She’d made several unsuccessful attempts to get up. “Harold, I have to go home,” she nervously pleaded. If she didn’t get home soon, there was going to be hell to pay.

Wrapping her thick hair around his fist he pulled until she was flat on her back. Climbing on top of her, he nudged her legs apart with his knee. Roughly entering her he yanked on her hair. “You leave when I say you can leave.”

Donna’s hand flew up over her mouth. She closed her eyes to keep the tears from coming. The bastard had repeatedly done the same to her throughout their marriage. “He raped you.”

Nodding her head, Reba took the napkin from her lap to dab at her eyes. Taking a shaky breath, she told Donna, “That’s not the worst of that night.”

By the time Harold decided to let her go it was after two in the morning. Reba tried to think of every believable lie she could tell her father. When she couldn’t think of anything, she decided to just tell him the truth.

Thinking she could talk to her father was a joke. He didn’t even give her a chance to make it across the threshold before he pounced on her. The first blow across the face sent her flying into the coffee table.

Each time she tried to stand he’d kick her back to the floor. This went on for five or six more times. When she didn’t move, her father towered over her, his face contorted in pure evil. “Get up you little bitch! You stinking whore!”

The pain was so intense she couldn’t move. This only infuriated him. Grabbing her by the front of her blouse he picked her up and threw her across the room. This time she landed against a wall.

“Daddy! Pleeese! I-I’m sorry! I won’t do it again!” she cried out all to no avail.

The last thing Reba remembered was the room going completely black. When she woke up she was in the hospital with an IV in her arm and her head feeling like someone was trying to squeeze her brains out.

After being released from the hospital she couldn’t go home, so she went to the only place she could think to go… Harold’s.

At first she thought everything was going to be okay. He genuinely seemed concerned and had even gone over to her father’s place and called him out for brutally beating her.

Reba didn’t question all the nights he never came home. She believed him when he said he was working another job. She was doing a pretty good job of keeping his apartment clean, clothes washed, meals cooked and sex whenever he wanted it. All of her efforts at playing the good little pseudo-housewife kept him happy.

The monster came out again the morning he’d come home to find her hanging over the toilet throwing up.

“Damn girl! Don’t tell me your ass is pregnant!”

Tears fell from her large brown eyes as she stared up at an angry Harold.

A look of disgust was etched across his face as he let out a string of expletives before walking out of her life and that of their unborn child.

“The next day is when you showed up,” Reba whispered, still wiping at her tears.

Donna sat there, taking it all in. For years she hated this woman for trampling on what belonged to her. The bastard had lied to her and told her Reba had been some fast tail girl chasing after him. And in a moment of weakness after they’d been arguing, he sought out what Reba was offering and gave in to temptation. “She didn’t mean nothing to me baby. It was only sex,” he smoothly lied. So desperate to keep her family together, Donna believed the lie.

A sense of empathy flowed through Donna. Would she and this woman ever be friends? That she didn’t know. But right here, right now, her heart went out to her. Reaching across the table, she took hold of Reba’s trembling hands.

“So you have a child?”

For the first time that day Reba’s face was lit up by her megawatt smile. “Yes. I have a daughter. Her name is Roxanna Harris and she’s twenty-six.”

Donna’s smile was just as bright. “Wait until my daughters find out they have a younger sister.”

“Oh God,” she breathed out, resting her head on the heel of her hand. “The man has other children, too.” Looking back up at Donna she asked, “Why does he want to be bothered with my Roxy if he has children?”

“Explain,” Donna said, arching a brow at Reba.

Reba folded her arms on the table. “I tell you, I hate that darn internet. Harold tracked me down and asked me to meet him because he had to talk to me about something really serious.” Swirling her straw in her soft drink, she glanced up at Donna. “I thought he might have grown a conscience and wanted to apologize for everything he put us through.”

Donna threw her head back and laughed. “Girl, that’s funny.”

“I know,” Reba chuckled. “Anyway, he tells me he wants to meet my baby.”

“And what did you say?” Donna asked incredulously.

“I told him if he could tell me her name I’d call her down there to meet him right then and there.”

“Lord, have mercy. That fool doesn’t even know his own child’s name?”

Reba shook her head in the negative. “Nope.”

“You mean he’s never seen her?” she asked again just as incredulously.

Sucking her teeth this time, Reba rolled her eyes. “When Roxy was about eight she started asking about her father. The only way I could track him down was through child support court. When we showed up to court he denied ever knowing me.”

“That bastard,” Donna hissed.

“The judge wanted to know if I wanted to have DNA testing done. I told her no. The only thing I asked of the judge was to make Harold take a letter Roxy had written him and a picture she had put inside.”

“Did the judge make him take it?”

“Yeah, she did. But I’m guessing he never read it since he didn’t know her name.”

“Unbelievable.”

“Dessert?” The waitress asked, interrupting their intense conversation.

The two women looked at each other and smiled. “Why not,” they said in unison.

After placing their dessert and coffee orders, Reba implored, “So tell me your Harold story.”