What's Done In the Dark (11 page)

“She’s not,” Fran reiterated.

“Honey, I know you’re not a criminal,” Mavis said, reaching out to cover my hand. “But this whole cover-up
is
criminal, and even if leaving him there wasn’t criminally wrong, it was morally wrong. Being there with him was morally wrong!”

“Okay, and so what do you want her to do about it now?” Fran said. “Seriously, she made a mistake. In your perfect world, she should just go tell her husband, tell Paula, tell the police. Then they’ll all pray on it, forgive her, and let her go on her merry little way, right?” Fran tsked in disgust as she fell back on the sofa. “You and that fantasyland you live in
drive me crazy.”

Mavis ignored her and continued talking to me. “Fefe,” she said, calling me by the nickname my mom used to call me whenever I was in trouble, “I know that you didn’t mean for this to come out the way it did. I just am worried because I don’t want this to blow up in your face. And my gut is telling me that’s exactly what’s going to happen.”

“What do you suggest I do?” I said. Her words were really starting to get to me.

“A web of lies eventually gets tangled,” she replied. “As difficult as it is, come clean.”

Fran jumped up like she could tell Mavis was getting through to me and she needed to nip this in the bud right away. “And say what? ‘Hey, Paula, I know I helped you through the funeral and let you cry on my shoulder and everything, but I was with your husband the night he died. We were getting it on, and it must’ve sent his heart into overdrive, but if it makes you feel better, he died feeling good.’ Really, Mavis? Is that what she should do?”

Mavis sighed like that sounded ridiculous even to her.

“I just know right is right,” Mavis muttered.

“All I’m saying,” Fran continued, turning her attention to me, “is you have to pull it together and
keep
it together. That’s all you have to do.”

“And what’s going to happen when the guilt keeps eating at her?” Mavis pointed my way. “Because I can see that it already has.”

At that moment, I caught my reflection in Fran’s ceiling-to-floor mirror. I looked a hot mess. I had on a pair of tattered leggings and a long, dingy T-shirt with a hole in the front that I hadn’t noticed until I was in my car and on my way over here. My hair actually looked like it hadn’t been combed
in a couple of days. I had no makeup on. My lips felt dry and crusty, and my eyes were swollen because I’d cried the whole way over here.

“That’s what she’s going to work on,” Fran said. She ran her eyes up and down my body. “And she will never, ever, ever wear that outfit again, looking like she’s going to work on a Habitat for Humanity project.”

I hated that they were talking about me as if I wasn’t there, but they both were right. I needed to keep it together, and I needed to come clean. But I knew if I came clean, I would lose everything. Greg would not forgive me. Shoot, his mother had pawned him off on a relative when he was eleven, returned two years later, and spent the next twenty-five years trying to get him to forgive her. To this day, Greg refused to have anything to do with his mother. And Paula, if she didn’t try to kill me, she’d never forgive me either. Then I thought about Tahiry and how much I loved her and how close she and Liz were. My betrayal would kill them both.

No, I decided, there was no way I was coming clean. I needed to learn to get over what I’d done. I’d asked God for forgiveness, and I meant it from the bottom of my heart, so I hoped that He forgave me. Now I just needed to figure out how to forgive myself and pray that it was enough to help me
move on.

20

Paula

THANK GOD FOR FELISE
. THAT’S
all I could think as I watched her straighten Mason’s little tie. I don’t know how I would’ve made it these last few days if Felise hadn’t taken part of the load. At first, I was a little worried. She didn’t show up until I called, begging her to come, but since then she hadn’t left my side. I was glad that she was devoting more of her time to my children, especially Tahiry, than to me because I didn’t have the strength to comfort them right then. After I put my husband in the ground today, I was going to have to pull it together for my children. But first I had to get through the funeral.

“So, are you ready?” Felise asked. She looked more like the widow than I did. We both had on simple black dresses, but Felise wore a small pillbox hat with a netted veil hanging over her face. Any other time I would’ve talked about that hat, but today—on the worst day of my life—her attire was the least of my concerns.

“Hold on before we go,” I said,
taking her hand. “I just want to tell you how much it means to me that you’re here.”

Her eyes filled with tears. “Where else would I be?”

“I’m lucky to have a friend like you. I know my mom is trying to be strong, but she’s more emotional than I am. So is Steven’s mom. I don’t know how I would get through this without you.”

She shifted, like I was making her uncomfortable, then said, “Come on, let’s go.”

I draped my arm through hers as my children, my best friend, and I headed to bury my husband.

“BEAUTIFUL SERVICE, PAULA. STEVEN WAS
a good man.”

I smiled as Steven’s boss looked at me through sorrow-filled eyes. We had come back at my house for the repast, along with just about everyone from the service. People were wall to wall.

“Just know that if you or the kids need anything, I’m here.”

I patted his hand, which covered mine. “Thank you, Mr. Chimere. My friend Felise will be staying with me a few days. She’ll make sure I’m taken care of.”

Felise’s eyes bucked. I knew I hadn’t talked to her about that, but I knew it wouldn’t be a problem.

“It’s so wonderful to have great friends,” Mr. Chimere said to her.

“Thank you,” Felise said, her voice soft.

I greeted more people until I simply couldn’t take it anymore. “I gotta get out of here. I’m going to lie down. Come with me for a minute,” I said, taking Felise’s hand and pulling her down the hallway. As soon as the door to my bedroom closed, I collapsed. “I don’t know what I’m going to do,” I cried.
“How am I supposed to make it through all the days to come?”

“You’re a strong woman. You’re going to pull it together and keep moving,” Felise said matter-of-factly.

Her eyes looked wracked with pain, reminding me once again that I wasn’t the only one grieving.

I sat up on the bed. “I’m sorry. You were close to Steven, and I know you’re hurting, too.”

She forced a smile. “This isn’t about me. This is about you and the kids. So you have to be strong for them.”

“I know. It’s just the guilt is killing me. My last words to him. I didn’t want a divorce.”

“Shhh,” she said. “Now’s not the time. Tell you what, why don’t you lie down? I will take care of everything out there. You just rest, okay?”

I nodded. Flopping down on the bed did feel like the best thing in the world right then. “Where’s my mom and Charlene?”

“Your mom is already lying down, and Charlene is keeping the boys entertained. Tahiry and Liz are in her room.”

I hoped my mom was fine. She’d actually passed out at the service, but I didn’t have the stamina to deal with anyone else right then, so I was grateful for Felise for taking on that task.

Felise headed toward the door. I stopped her just before she opened it. “Felise?”

“Yeah?” she said, turning toward me.

“I love you.”

She hesitated, and a slow tear escaped from her eyes. “I love you, too, Paula. I really do.”

I smiled and crawled under my covers, confident that my friend would make sure everything
was handled.

21

Felise

“
ARE YOU OKAY?” GREG SAID
, approaching me. I nodded as I slowly massaged the back of my neck.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I replied. “It’s just been a stressful day.” I know Paula hadn’t wanted so many people back at her house, and I surely didn’t either. We both wanted people to pay their respects and leave us to our grief. But Steven’s mom was a true Southern matriarch, and according to her, “Steven wouldn’t be able to rest in peace unless he got a proper send-off, and that includes a repast.”

“I just got Paula to lie down for a while,” I said. “This is really hard on her.”

He pulled my chin up and looked me in the eye. “It is hard on you, too. You don’t look good.”

I snatched myself away from his grasp. I didn’t need him making me perfect today. “How am I supposed to look?”

He drew back in shock, and I sighed. I had to stop snapping at him.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m just . . .”

He put a finger to my lips. “It’s okay, honey. No apology needed.” I was grateful for the reprieve and changed the subject as soon as I could.

“Those were nice words you spoke at the service today,” I said. Putting Steven in the ground had to have been one of the most painful things I’d ever done in my life.

“I am surprised you didn’t want to say anything.”

“Nah, I think you represented well,” I replied.

Greg continued to study me. I must not have been making the right responses. “Do you need anything?” he asked. “I’m worried about you.”

The last thing I needed was him reading anything extra into my grief. “I’m fine,” I said, “really I am. But I could use some water.”

I wasn’t really thirsty. I just wanted Greg to leave me alone.

“Okay, one water coming right up,” he said, squeezing my hand before heading into the kitchen.

I watched my husband walk away so purposefully, and I wondered how we would ever fix us. Amidst my mourning I had come to realize a truth that should have been apparent to me long ago. I had put up with so much for so long because honestly, I think I lived vicariously through Paula and Steven. Even if I couldn’t be with him, I wanted to be a better wife because of him. How could I continue to do that with Steven gone?

“Very nice ceremony.”

I turned toward the voice coming from behind me.

“Oh, hey, Sabrina,” I said, leaning in to give her a hug.

Sabrina Fulton was my roommate from freshman year of college. We’d fallen out right before school ended, and then she didn’t come back sophomore year. I’d seen her several times over the years, and we were both cordial to each other.
I was just glad that we’d put our petty spats behind us. “I didn’t know you knew Steven.”

She leaned back against the wall and shrugged. “I didn’t. But remember, Paula used to hang out with us when she was visiting you in college.”

I tried not to frown in confusion. I didn’t know they still talked.

“It’s so beautiful how you’re there for Paula,” Sabrina said.

“Thank you,” I replied. “Just trying to be there for my best friend.”

“Yep,” Sabrina said, taking a sip of her drink. “Good ol’ Felise. Always the good girl of the group. The one everyone wanted to be like, who could do no wrong.”

Her tone made me uncomfortable. “Ah, are you going somewhere with this?”

“Nah, I just want to compliment you.” She flashed a tight smile. “I love to see women sticking together.”

“Oh, okay.” I didn’t really care for Sabrina anymore, so I said, “Well, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go check on the kids.”

“Yeah, that’s right. You’re godmother to the oldest.”

I smiled and nodded. “Yes, Tahiry.”

“Well, you go take care of them and I’ll talk to you later.” She turned to walk off, then stopped. “Oh, yeah,” she said, turning around. “Zen told me you were at the bar the other night.”

The mention of a bar put me on my guard. “Who’s Zen?”

“The bartender,” she said, looking me directly in the eye. “You know, at my job, at the Four Seasons. I introduced you to him the last time you and some of your sorority sisters were there for happy hour a few months
ago.”

My mind started churning as I recalled that day. We’d already been at the bar an hour when Sabrina started her shift. She’d made personal introductions, and Zen hooked us up with drinks the rest of the night.

I couldn’t believe I’d forgotten that. That’s why Zen had greeted me like he knew me when I first sat down at the bar. I thought he was just being friendly to get a bigger tip. Maybe if I had remembered meeting him before—shoot, if I’d remembered that Sabrina worked there—that would’ve kept me from going to Steven’s room.

Sabrina continued, “He told me that you were upset and getting pretty toasted, but luckily,” she added slowly, “you had someone to help you get over whatever was bothering you.”

I couldn’t move as she kept talking. “I hate I missed you, though,” she said. “Hate I was off that night, period. I heard there was quite a bit of action that night. There was a fight in the bar, and then of course the stuff with Steven.”

I was still frozen as Greg walked up. “Here, hon.”

Sabrina broke out in a huge smile. “You go on and see about those kids now.” She set her glass down and turned to Greg. “Hi, I’m Sabrina Fulton. You must be Felise’s wonderful husband.”

Greg smiled and shook her hand. “Greg Mavins, nice to meet you. Are you a friend of Paula’s?”

“Kinda sorta, by way of Felise here,” she replied. “Felise and I used to be roommates our freshman year, and we all would hang out whenever Paula came to town. I hadn’t seen her in a while, but I work at the Four Seasons, so I’m trying to help Paula figure out what happened to her husband.”

I sucked in air and tried to keep from passing out. Greg didn’t seem to notice, but Sabrina smirked.

“Such a shame,” Greg replied. “They say it was his heart, so I don’t know what else there is to find out, but I know Paula is just looking for some peace.”

“Yep,” Sabrina said, “and I’m hoping I can help her find it.” She turned her malicious smile on me. “Well, I must get going. Give my condolences to your BFF.” She actually reached out and hugged me, and it took everything in my power to hug her back.

As she backed away, I had to lean against Greg to keep from losing my balance. Sabrina was a hood girl who had landed at UT on a track scholarship, and I knew all about her survival instincts. Her street ways would mean major trouble for me, if she knew anything about that night.