Free What's Done In the Dark by Reshonda Tate Billingsley Page B
Authors: Reshonda Tate Billingsley
“They said your dad is gone,” I sobbed when she didn’t move.
“Gone where? When . . . when is he coming back?” She stammered, turning her gaze from me to the officers.
“Ma’am, I’m so sorry,” the first policeman replied.
“What happened?” I heard my mom ask. I don’t know exactly what he told her. Honestly, how on earth could it even matter? My husband was dead. Whatever they said elicited agonizing screams from Tahiry.Then my whole world went black.
14
Felise
MY MANIC HUSBAND WAS WORKING every nerve in my body. He was going all out trying to make up for the anniversary fiasco and driving me straight to the mad house.
“. . . So I was thinking that maybe this weekend, instead of going to see Mike Epps, we could catch a plane to Vegas for a late anniversary celebration,” he said. “I know the tickets are last minute, but I think we deserve it.”
I was sitting on the bed, thumbing through a magazine, not digesting a single word on the pages. I just wanted everyone to leave me alone to mourn.
I definitely didn’t want to hear any chatter about Vegas. Steven used to love going there. His favorite . . . I caught myself and had to fight back the lump in my throat. Was I going to spend the rest of my life thinking about Steven? I struggled to keep down the tears. I couldn’t cry. Greg knew I was upset about the anniversary, but tears would bring a whole other set of questions.
Still, a part of me wanted to cryin my husband’s arms. He’d grown to love Steven, too. After Steven and Paula got married and he saw how close Paula and I were, he let down his guard. Steven and Greg would’ve probably never been friends on their own—they were too different—but they had developed a mutually respectful friendship over the years.
That made my betrayal even worse.
My cell phone rang, and I saw Paula’s name pop up on the screen.
I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t talk to her yet. I knew that I was going to have to at some point. But I was sure that she had gotten the news by now, and I didn’t know what to say.
“You’re not going to get that?” Greg asked when I tossed the phone back on the bed.
“I don’t feel like talking,” I snapped. “Period.”
“Okay, hint taken,” he said, standing. “I guess I’ll leave you alone.”
“That would be nice.”
Greg stood over the bed, staring at me. “How long are you going to stay mad at me?”
I took a deep breath and slapped the magazine, trying to pretend I wanted to keep reading. “I’m not mad, Greg. I’m over it, okay?”
“It doesn’t seem like it.”
“I’m just not in the mood for conversation.” I would have given everything to just disappear right then. Go to a dark land where no one could talk to me.
“Well, you haven’t been in the mood for conversation since you got home. You slept on the sofa, and if you say that you’re not mad anymore, then I don’t know what it is,” Greg said.
We were interrupted when Liz camerushing into the room with her Samsung Galaxy extended toward me. “Mom,” she said frantically, “it’s Tahiry. She’s on the phone crying. She said Ms. Jean has been trying to call you because Uncle Steven died.”
My daughter didn’t call Paula her aunt, but for some reason she’d taken to calling Steven uncle. Maybe because he was always doing stuff for the girls and they absolutely adored him. Right then, hearing her call him that sent daggers through my heart.
I slept with my daughter’s “uncle.”
“What?” Greg said in shock. “What do you mean, Steven died?”
Liz thrust the phone toward me. “Here, she wants to talk to you.”
I could not get around this with my husband and daughter standing there, staring at me. So I slowly took the phone. “Hello?”
“Nana!” Tahiry cried, which was another punch in the gut.
“Yes?” I said.
She was sobbing hysterically. “They say my dad is dead.”
Both Greg and Liz were staring at me, so I knew I had to sound
“Gone where? When . . . when is he coming back?” She stammered, turning her gaze from me to the officers.
“Ma’am, I’m so sorry,” the first policeman replied.
“What happened?” I heard my mom ask. I don’t know exactly what he told her. Honestly, how on earth could it even matter? My husband was dead. Whatever they said elicited agonizing screams from Tahiry.Then my whole world went black.
14
Felise
MY MANIC HUSBAND WAS WORKING every nerve in my body. He was going all out trying to make up for the anniversary fiasco and driving me straight to the mad house.
“. . . So I was thinking that maybe this weekend, instead of going to see Mike Epps, we could catch a plane to Vegas for a late anniversary celebration,” he said. “I know the tickets are last minute, but I think we deserve it.”
I was sitting on the bed, thumbing through a magazine, not digesting a single word on the pages. I just wanted everyone to leave me alone to mourn.
I definitely didn’t want to hear any chatter about Vegas. Steven used to love going there. His favorite . . . I caught myself and had to fight back the lump in my throat. Was I going to spend the rest of my life thinking about Steven? I struggled to keep down the tears. I couldn’t cry. Greg knew I was upset about the anniversary, but tears would bring a whole other set of questions.
Still, a part of me wanted to cryin my husband’s arms. He’d grown to love Steven, too. After Steven and Paula got married and he saw how close Paula and I were, he let down his guard. Steven and Greg would’ve probably never been friends on their own—they were too different—but they had developed a mutually respectful friendship over the years.
That made my betrayal even worse.
My cell phone rang, and I saw Paula’s name pop up on the screen.
I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t talk to her yet. I knew that I was going to have to at some point. But I was sure that she had gotten the news by now, and I didn’t know what to say.
“You’re not going to get that?” Greg asked when I tossed the phone back on the bed.
“I don’t feel like talking,” I snapped. “Period.”
“Okay, hint taken,” he said, standing. “I guess I’ll leave you alone.”
“That would be nice.”
Greg stood over the bed, staring at me. “How long are you going to stay mad at me?”
I took a deep breath and slapped the magazine, trying to pretend I wanted to keep reading. “I’m not mad, Greg. I’m over it, okay?”
“It doesn’t seem like it.”
“I’m just not in the mood for conversation.” I would have given everything to just disappear right then. Go to a dark land where no one could talk to me.
“Well, you haven’t been in the mood for conversation since you got home. You slept on the sofa, and if you say that you’re not mad anymore, then I don’t know what it is,” Greg said.
We were interrupted when Liz camerushing into the room with her Samsung Galaxy extended toward me. “Mom,” she said frantically, “it’s Tahiry. She’s on the phone crying. She said Ms. Jean has been trying to call you because Uncle Steven died.”
My daughter didn’t call Paula her aunt, but for some reason she’d taken to calling Steven uncle. Maybe because he was always doing stuff for the girls and they absolutely adored him. Right then, hearing her call him that sent daggers through my heart.
I slept with my daughter’s “uncle.”
“What?” Greg said in shock. “What do you mean, Steven died?”
Liz thrust the phone toward me. “Here, she wants to talk to you.”
I could not get around this with my husband and daughter standing there, staring at me. So I slowly took the phone. “Hello?”
“Nana!” Tahiry cried, which was another punch in the gut.
“Yes?” I said.
She was sobbing hysterically. “They say my dad is dead.”
Both Greg and Liz were staring at me, so I knew I had to sound