Sing A New Song Page 8

  Thomas got up and went back to his painting. He was definitely eager to meet Tiffany. Thomas only hoped Karlie would not be around. He could not bear to look his daughter in the eyes.

  Chapter Fourteen

  When Tiffany got off the phone with Thomas, she felt a piercing pang of regret. She knew Thomas still felt guilty after all these years for what he had done. She could hear it in his voice. She knew he would feel justified once he learned the sorry truth. Her conscience kicked up a notch. Tiffany was truly sorry she had kept all this hidden, because this skeleton was coming out of the closet to bite her on the rear end. She tried to think of what she could say. “I am sorry,” did not seem sufficient. Tiffany would only be lucky if Thomas did not come after her with all he had. She may not be around if he did.

  Tiffany felt another wave of nausea assault her senses. She quickly ran to the bathroom to empty the entire contents of her stomach in the bowl. The medication she was taking was nothing but a placebo. It did nothing to stem the cancer eating away at her body. Tiffany made an executive decision. “No more, no more.”

  She went into her medicine chest and in one swoop emptied all the pills into the toilet and flushed them down the drain. What was the point of taking them when the side effects felt worse than the cancer did at times? She was going to let nature take its course.

  Tiffany slid her body down to the floor and sat with one hand on the bowl.

  The doorbell rang. Sighing, she said aloud, “Who is that? I am not in the mood.” Tiffany sucked her teeth as the bell continued to ring throughout the house. “Some people can’t take a hint,” Tiffany grumbled, got on her feet, and went to answer the door, muttering all the way. “If you don’t answer the door, that means you’re not here or you don’t want to be bothered.”

  She looked through the tiny peephole. It was Myra. Not today, Myra, she thought. Tiffany was not in the right frame of mind to deal with her persnickety friend. Having just finished puking her brains out, Tiffany wanted to be left alone. She did not want to deal with Myra’s self-righteous attitude. Nevertheless her upbringing prevailed, and she reluctantly opened the door. “Hi, Myra.” At the moment, Tiffany did not care if she sounded surly.

  Myra held up what looked like an apple pie.

  Tiffany was a sucker for pies and promptly shifted her body to allow Myra to enter.

  Myra smirked, knowing some things had not changed. “I see you still have a fondness for pies,” Myra stated as she entered and placed the pie on the counter.

  “Yes, I do.” Tiffany knew she sounded formal, but she still had not gotten past Myra’s comments from the other night. She had been offensive.

  “Tiffany,” Myra began, “I am sorry about the other day. I was way out of line.”

  Tiffany studied Myra’s face, searching for sincerity. She saw that the other woman meant what she said. “Okay.” Tiffany watched as Myra’s mouth hung open with disbelief.

  “Okay? Is that all you are going to say? I was ready for a big showdown, and I had a speech all planned.”

  “Well, when you are dying, you learn how to let things go, you know?” Tiffany’s attempt at humor failed.

  “Oh, goodness, Tiffany. Please forgive me. I was way past insensitive—”

  Tiffany made a swooping gesture with her hands to drive her point home and to stem Myra’s apology. “Listen, I do not want this. People walking on eggshells around me, afraid to be themselves and speak their mind. Dying is not something I think about all the time, and you do not want me to censure—” Oh, no. Tiffany felt the tears surface. She tried to hold them at bay, but they refused to heed her command. She did not think she had any tears left to cry, but they were coming. She could feel them.

  One drop . . .

  Became more . . .

  Like a dam breaking, Tiffany’s face cracked, and she burst into tears.

  Myra fought to temper her own tears. She did not know what to do at first. Then she hugged her friend tightly. Following the leading of the Holy Spirit, Myra prayed a short, earnest prayer for Tiffany.

  Tiffany felt Myra’s words move from her ear to her heart and into her very being. It soothed her and tempered her quivering emotions. At the end of the prayer, Tiffany cried a little bit more before pulling away. “Thank you,” she hiccupped. “Sometimes I just cannot handle it.”

  “There’s no need to thank me,” Myra told her. “What else are friends for?”

  Tiffany smiled through her tears. Myra grabbed a box of tissues and gently wiped Tiffany’s face. Tiffany swallowed the tears rising from her simple act of love. She didn’t get that often. Despite her ways, Myra was her friend. She did have a friend, and it felt good.

  Myra glanced at her watch before springing to her feet. Neil was due home, and she still had not finished cooking her steak and potatoes. “Would you and Karlie like to come by for dinner?” Myra offered.

  “No,” Tiffany said, declining the invitation. “I think I better stay closer to home. Karlie introduced me to a friend of hers, and I gave her permission to go down the block until sundown.”

  “Okay,” Myra said, stifling her disappointment. She really wanted to lay eyes on Karlie. She had yet to meet Tiffany’s daughter. Myra went through the door and walked to her house. Her hands squeezed her midriff, as if to hold in the pain. She had really wanted to ask Tiffany what it was like to carry and deliver a child, but she would have sounded too pitiful. Extremely self-conscious about her infertility, Myra had withheld, not wanting Tiffany to discern her secret torment. As she walked through the garage and opened the side door, Myra bit her lip to keep from crying out from the sheer torture of unfulfilled wishes. She had just prayed for Tiffany, but she could not seem to find that comfort for herself.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Her first black eye, during her first week of school. What a way to bring in the weekend! “Mom’s going to hit the roof,” Karlie muttered. She stealthily entered the house and went right into her room. If her mother saw her black eye, she was going to lose her mind. Snuggling under her fluffy comforters, Karlie took a moment to savor the fresh scent of fabric softener before picking up her telephone to dial Tanya’s number.

  Tanya answered on the second ring. “Are your parents upset?” Karlie asked.

  “No,” Tanya said, “Well, not once I explained everything. My mother wanted to rush over to Cheyenne’s house and sock her a good one, but my father held her back.”

  Karlie cracked up at Tanya’s comment. Her family was hilarious. Karlie had met them the night before, when her mother finally gave her permission to go over to Tanya’s house. It was only on the next block, but her mother was worried about her welfare and urged Karlie to be home before dark. Karlie had a lot of fun. Tanya’s parents were young like her mother, and their enthusiasm for life was infectious. They made Karlie feel at home and did not treat her differently because her mother used to be famous. Karlie had to help with the dishes, too.

  But today the new best friends were on the way home from school when Cheyenne and three of her friends came at them. Karlie and Tanya held their own, even though Karlie ended up nursing a black eye. One of the other girls had elbowed her in the face during the scuffle.

  Karlie smiled. She had her revenge lying at the bottom of her backpack. It was a huge chunk out of Cheyenne’s hair. “My consolation prize,” Karlie boasted and bobbed her head, feeling intense satisfaction at her conquest. Karlie felt assured that after their confrontation today, there would be no more problems. Chuckling to herself, Karlie knew she had surprised the other girls, because they had assumed from her designer clothes that she did not know how to fight. “Well, you thought wrong,” Karlie uttered.

  Hearing a knock on the door, Karlie quickly got off the telephone. She did not want Tanya hearing her mother ranting and raving.

  Tiffany entered Karlie’s room with a big smile, which promptly transformed into potent disbelief. “What the . . .” Tiffany rushed over to Karlie and scooped her in her arms before loudly demandin
g, “What happened? Who did this to your face?”

  Karlie shrank against her mother’s evident, understandable outrage. Her mother literally foamed at the mouth, which indicated an upcoming explosion. Karlie started talking fast. “Well, I met this guy, Jamaal, and—”

  “Jamaal,” Tiffany interrupted. “Who’s he? Why is this the first time I’m hearing of him? Is he responsible for this?”

  “Mommy,” Karlie said and gently put one hand over her mother’s lips. In a purposely calm tone, Karlie continued, “Mom, you have to give me a chance to explain.” She saw her mother nod and removed her hand. “Jamaal is just some guy who showed me where one of my classes was. Anyway, he has a girlfriend, Cheyenne, who’s head cheerleader. She stepped to me before telling me to stay away from him.” She saw her mom’s mouth open, so she held her hands up. “Please, Mom, let me finish.”

  “Okay . . . okay.” Tiffany complied.

  Seeing the impatience written on her pursed lips and hearing the telltale tapping feet, Karlie knew she could keep her mother at bay only for a short time. It was time to get to the meat of the story. “So today Cheyenne and two of her friends started major drama with me and Tanya. I mean, she thinks that because I’m from L.A., I must be a pushover and just decks me in the eye. After she hit me, I went crazy, Mom. I even pulled her weave out.”

  “You did?”

  “Yup,” Karlie said and reached into her backpack to proudly display the chunk of hair.

  “I’m glad you defended yourself, Karlie,” Tiffany stated, “but you shouldn’t have to. I am going down to the school tomorrow to pull you out of school. As a matter of fact, I think I need to have a talk with Cheyenne.” A thought occurred to her. “Weren’t there any teachers around?”

  “That’s ’cause it happened near the bus loop and no one saw,” Karlie explained. “But, Mom, I’m fine, and you don’t need to pull me out of school. I like it there. I have a friend, and after today I don’t think I’ll have to worry about Cheyenne again.”

  “Hmmm.” Tiffany was unconvinced.

  Karlie turned on the waterworks. “Mom, it would be seriously humiliating if you came down to my school. I mean, I handled it. I am not a baby. You have to trust me. I’ll be okay. I promise. Just don’t pull me out of school.”

  Tiffany relented. “We’ll see. In the meantime let me get you a piece of steak for that eye.”

  Karlie almost barfed at the idea of raw steak on her eye, but she knew when to argue and when not to argue. She heard her mother muttering on her way down the stairs to the kitchen and on her way back up the stairs. She handed Karlie the steak on a plate and hovered like a grizzly bear. She would have stayed there if the doorbell hadn’t saved the day. Her mother had no choice but to go answer the door. She barked a terse “Stay in bed” before leaving.

  Karlie felt like an invalid, when all she wanted to do was a victory dance for whipping Cheyenne’s tail. Sadly, though, she had to play the helpless victim.

  A few minutes later, Tiffany entered the room. “You have a guest who is most insistent that he see you. He looks a little . . . different.” Her mother sounded mildly concerned.

  “Who is it?” Karlie eagerly got out of bed, put the steak on her end table, and went to the top of the stairs. Tilting her body forward, she bent to see who was waiting. It was Jamaal. She had on a pair of huge fuzzy slippers, so she navigated the narrow steps carefully. The last thing Karlie wanted or needed was to take a misstep and go plummeting down the stairs, before landing in a heap at his feet. That would be so embarrassing.

  “Jamaal?” Karlie asked. “What’re you doing here?”

  “I heard about the fight and came by to check on you,” Jamaal explained. “I am so sorry this happened to you. I know you are new to town and everything. Anyway, I dumped Cheyenne because she is crazy. I didn’t know Tiffany Knightly was your mother.” Jamaal rambled on, not allowing Karlie a word in edgewise.

  Karlie walked farther into the living room, over to where Jamaal was standing. Her mother went into the kitchen, presumably to get some tea. But Karlie was glad for some measure of privacy. “It’s not something I talk about, and not many people our age know her,” Karlie replied. “I do not understand why your girlfriend came at me like that. This is my first week in this school, and now my mother is threatening to pull me out because of all this drama.”

  “It’s because—” Jamaal stopped. Karlie noticed a huge blush across his cheeks.

  “What?” Karlie wanted an explanation.

  “Well, she heard from somebody that I liked you, and she got jealous,” Jamaal blurted.

  Karlie paused, letting that new disclosure sink in. Then she smiled. “You like me?”

  “Yeah,” Jamaal breathed out nervously. He was still blushing, but against his mocha skin, the rosiness took on a purplish hue.

  “But you do not even know me,” Karlie said, flattered and unsure of what else to say. Like, this was a crazy moment for her right now. It was definitely surreal to have one of the most popular and good-looking boys in school standing in her house, confessing his feelings

  “Well, we could be friends,” Jamaal suggested.

  “Listen, Jamaal,” Karlie said, “I am not the kind of girl you are used to. I am a regular fifteen-year-old.”

  “Huh?” Jamaal sounded confused.

  “I don’t do certain things,” Karlie stressed. She looked behind her to make sure her mother was not in the vicinity.

  “Oh,” Jamaal said. He blushed again, thinking California girls must be unusually blunt. “That’s okay. So you wanna go out?”

  “I do not think my mother will let me date so young,” Karlie said. She hated disappointing him, but her mother could be old-fashioned when it came to certain things, and dating was one of those things.

  “Then maybe I can come over sometime. You think your mother would mind?” Jamaal asked. He did not intend to give up that easily.

  “I don’t think she would mind. At least, I hope not. See you Monday.”

  Karlie went over to Jamaal and reached up to place a light kiss on his cheek. Jamaal raised his eyebrows in alarm. Then wide-eyed, he looked to see where her mother was. Karlie chuckled and walked Jamaal to the door. Once he had left, she leaned against the door and smiled. She definitely liked it here, and she already had a new best friend and, apparently, a soon to be boyfriend. “He is so cute,” Karlie squealed. “I’m going out with the head of the basketball team.” Excited, Karlie ran up the stairs to call Tanya and fill her in on all the juicy details of her thrilling encounter with Jamaal Weathers.

  Tiffany leaned away from the wall where she had been discreetly listening to her daughter’s conversation. Karlie was confident and unafraid of speaking her mind. Tiffany was so proud of her, although the verdict was still out on Jamaal. He seemed respectful enough, like he came from a good home, but one could never be too sure.

  Tiffany’s eyes watered. Her baby girl was growing up. “I’m going to miss it all.” Tiffany wished she could be around to see Karlie blossom into full womanhood. The tears flowed from her eyes as she uttered, “I won’t get to see Karlie get married or have children—none of it. I won’t be here, and there is nothing I can do to change that.” Tiffany felt the weight burden her shoulders, knowing that she would miss all of Karlie’s important milestones and she was leaving her daughter alone to fend for herself.

  Life was funny. Most parents lived long enough to watch their children grow up, but they did not have the resources or money to help them. Yet Karlie was already wealthy, and she was going to lose the only parent she had. She was going to be a poor little rich kid unless Tiffany found Karlie’s father. Hopefully, he would accept and give Karlie the love and guidance she needed to become a viable contributor to society. “I’ll find him, Karlie,” Tiffany vowed. “I will find your father . . . your real father.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Lord, there is nothing you cannot do. You specialize in things that seem impossible. There is nothing too
big for you, Lord.” Neil prayed for about five more minutes before getting into bed. He tried to be quiet, as Myra was already fast asleep.

  Propped up against his pillows, his head on his hands, Neil stared at the ceiling in contemplation. He looked over at his wife. Compared to his larger frame, she looked small and helpless. Neil felt his heart stir. He was concerned because it was only October and she was already taking personal days off from work. This was her third personal day in weeks. That was so not like her.

  When he had asked why, Myra had given him a noncommittal answer, saying, “I’m okay. I just needed a ‘me’ day.” However, her “me” day was actually two days of moping and moaning around the house. Neil was worried that Myra was actually suffering from clinical depression. Some older church folks did not fathom or agree with the notion of a Christian suffering from depression. “God’s people cannot be depressed. Why else would God tell us to cast all our cares on Him?”

  Myra was a faithful believer, and she rejoiced and praised God at church. She helped with various women’s committees, hospitalities, and missionary outreach work. But she was a different person at home. Depression was the only word Neil could use to describe her current state of mind.

  Neil got up. He needed some air. He grabbed his jacket to put over his pajamas, pushed his feet into a pair of worn slippers, and walked outside his house. Ever since he gave his life to God, Neil had quit smoking cold turkey. Nevertheless, there were still times he felt the old temptation, so whenever he felt the urge arise, Neil walked. He’d promised God and Myra he would never put another butt in his mouth, and he’d meant it.

  Neil knew better than to renege on a promise to God. There was no escaping God. Even if he went to hell, God would find him there. He passed by Tiffany’s house and noticed there was a light flickering in the backyard. He decided to go back and investigate. He was not surprised to see Tiffany out by her tree.