Who Gives this Bride? Page 6

  “Marc, it was nothing, I promise.” She had figured Marc wouldn’t be happy that she had gone to see Luke, but she had never forecast the amount of anger that he was exuding.

  “Oh, it was nothing alright. Nothing to him, but I’m pretty sure it meant something to you. Riddle me this, did you tell him we were engaged?” Marc looked straight into her soul and dared her to lie.

  “He already knows we’re dating.”

  “That’s not what I asked you. No doubt you told him that Marissa was married. Did you tell him that you were engaged to be married?”

  “No, we would’ve gotten around to it, but I mentioned my mom and I got choked up and…” she felt the emotions welling up, but this time it wasn’t based on her mom’s passing.

  “Do you want to know why I’m so upset about this, why all of this is such a problem?”

  Alma nodded and he continued.

  “It’s because I have an excellent memory, it’s a blessing and a curse at times. Do you remember that you told me that being attracted to bad boys was a part of your genetic makeup and then you gushed about how different I was from all the other guys you dated? You also made the mistake of telling me that Luke had been like your kryptonite. Do you remember using those words? Probably not, but I did, because that’s pretty powerful, kryptonite. Especially once you told me how he dogged you out like you were nothing and then for some reason he ended up being the one to end it, not you. What woman fools with a man that hits on her sister? What woman keeps dating a man that sleeps with her cousin? And let me help you out, they weren’t the only ones that he tried to fool around with, those are just the ones you found out about. Then, there’s this Josiah thing, which is way bigger to you than it should be, and you go running up in his office. You don’t tell me about it. Didn’t even mention it to me and we sat down across from each other yesterday morning. You’ve got me looking like boo boo the fool while you’re out here grinning and prancing around in front of your ex. You diminished me in his eyes. You know that right. It won’t be long and he’s going to end up calling you, trying to see if there’s some opening for him. All your actions did was just tell him that you were still emotionally available. Well let me help you out. I’m not you. I’m not going to sit around and let you tap dance on my heart while you try to figure out how Mr. Kryptonite crept back into your life. I’m going to exit stage right and get on with my life.”

  His words hurt. He had barely taken a breath and Alma knew not to interrupt. Somewhere in his tirade there had been a thread of truth and it hurt.

  “Please, don’t leave,” she pleaded as he made his way to the door.

  “As bad as he treated you Alma, what could make you desperate enough to go crawling back to him and sit and grin in his office for an hour? You could have gone to any other attorney and paid their measly fee. You’ve got the money, so why him?”

  He shook his head and pulled the door open.

  “And another thing, you’re spending all your time investigating poor Mr. Josiah, I mean honestly, who cares why that sad little old man wants to pretend to be your sister’s father, if that’s what he’s doing. Maybe he loved your mother, I don’t know, but who cares. Instead of focusing all of this laser like attention on him, you should’ve been checking out Justin. As long as we’re coming clean, you might want to ask him about his baby’s mama when he gets back from his honeymoon with your sister.”

  Alma’s hand was already in motion before she realized that she had slapped him.

  “Truth hurts doesn’t it?” Marc rubbed his face while he spoke. “Where was all of this concern when Justin was out eating lunch with some girl and rubbing her pregnant belly? If you want to help your sister, you might need to butt out of her life and focus on your own relationships,” with that he pulled the door closed behind him.

  * * * * *

  Marc pulled his phone out as soon as he reached his car.

  It rang a couple of times before his father answered.

  “Dad, you got time for a visit? I need someone to talk to.”

  * * * * *

  Alma woke up the next morning wishing that the night before had just been a figment of her imagination. Marc’s outburst had been unexpected, but once he left and she had a chance to think it over, it was completely understandable. Marc had been the one person that she had told nearly all of her secrets to. It was for that reason that he felt that her being in Luke’s presence was a dangerous thing. Luke was good looking, but he had never treated her good. She had always known he wasn’t the best man for her, but she loved the attention she got when they were together. It was as though her stock went up that she had been able to snag such a man. He met all of the ideals of a Hollywood hunk, complete with all of the drama you would expect. She had spent the majority of that relationship fighting with the women who had vied to take her place. Once the relationship had finally ended she had wished that she had been the one to cut it off, to finally say this is enough, but that wasn’t what had happened. They had broken up and gotten back together more times than she could count and it was the last time that they were off again that he had finally decided that being back on again wasn’t an option. Alma had literally begged him to get back together. She hadn’t told Marc that part. It had been too embarrassing and revealed a character flaw in herself that she had been so desperate for his validation that she had demeaned herself on a whole other level. She wondered if she had found her way in his office because she really wanted to find out the truth about Josiah or whether it was because she had lost thirty pounds and her natural hair had grown out so thick and full. She had straightened it for the first time for Marissa’s wedding and it fell to the middle of her back in a shiny swath of thick dark brown strands That Luke had shown her so much attention and had lavished her with compliments had made her day. It felt like a form of validation even if she had no intention of trying to get back together with him. That she had looked to him for approval was the problem that Marc had angrily raised. She knew he was right. She had thought about calling to apologize this morning, but decided against it. There was no need going down that path right now. She needed to apologize in person and it needed to be meaningful. If she took him at his word he had called off not only their engagement last night, but their entire relationship. She prayed that a little time would allow cooler heads to prevail.

  She had gotten dressed on autopilot and now found herself heading toward the local coffee shop she had suggested to Josiah as a meeting spot.

  She pulled into the parking lot just as he was climbing out of the cab. She watched him slowly clamber from the vehicle looking almost like a marionette whose strings were being controlled by someone else. She felt a twinge of guilt as she watched how feeble he seemed. Stranger or not, surely she could have picked him up and been confident of her ability to protect herself. Josiah was no threat to anyone, at least not physically. He hadn’t noticed her and she was able to park her car undetected. She walked inside a few minutes later and saw him sitting with his back towards her. That was yet another give away that he was harmless. True gangsters always faced the door. That was a little trick that Marc had told her. It was a safety thing and he always insisted on that seat so he could keep his eyes on the surroundings. She was wistful as she thought of how he was always concerned for her safety. She fought the urge to leave Josiah sitting alone so she could rush to Marc’s house before he left for work and apologize over and over until he finally accepted.

  “Good morning,” she greeted Josiah the imposter dryly. The man made the motion that he was cordially rising to meet her, but his behind never left his seat.

  “Good morning, how are you this morning?” He face was brightened with a smile that added life to his countenance. He was such a kindly looking old man. The kind that you would expect to greet you at Walmart, or be the crossing guard at the local elementary school, or a senior deacon that sung in the male chorus. Why on earth would he waste his time lying about who he was?

  “I
’m doing well. Thank you for agreeing to meet with me. Have you ordered yet?” She knew he hadn’t since he’d only sat down a few moments before she had entered.

  Just as she asked the waitress magically appeared with a note pad for their drink order.

  The woman looked at Josiah and asked, “What can I get for you this morning sugar?” Josiah ordered a water and a black coffee.

  “What about you sweetie?” The woman looked at Alma and she chose a latte.

  The woman disappeared and promised to return.

  With all the sugary sweetness that the waitress had oozed, Alma felt no need to sugar coat her purpose.

  “Josiah, maybe you’d like to fill me in on who you really are since it’s not Josiah Carter.”

  Josiah lowered his head as he chuckled. He seemed tickled that she had uncovered his ruse, but not the least bit alarmed or worried.

  He looked back up just as the waitress returned with their drinks. Alma sat quiet waiting for the woman to disappear, but she set the drinks down and reached into her apron pocket to retrieve her notepad.

  “Are you ready to order darling,” she turned her attention to Josiah.

  Josiah looked down at the menu, but Alma interrupted, “I think we need a few more minutes.” The waitress nodded and began to place her pad back in its holster, when Josiah spoke up.

  “Well, I’m ready now. Alma, why don’t you look at the menu while I order to see if you can decide what you want.” Alma was shocked as Josiah began to order, completely ignoring her and the fact that she knew he wasn’t the man he was pretending to be.

  The woman jotted down the wheat toast, scrambled eggs with cheese, hash browns and bacon he had ordered. Alma wasn’t sure where he was going to put it all.

  “What about you Sweet pea,” the waitress readied her pen.

  “I’ll just have a small bowl of oatmeal and fruit.” Alma waited for the woman to finish writing and walk away.

  “So, you were about to tell me who you really are.” Alma was undeterred by Josiah’s stall tactics.

  “Well, why don’t you start by telling me what you know and I can fill in the rest for you.”

  “I know Josiah’s dead so I’d say you have a lot of blanks to fill in.”

  Josiah laughed again.

  “You are quite the personality. You don’t pull any punches do you? That was one of your mom’s strong points. So, you are quite right, Josiah is dead and I’m not his incarnation. My real name is Leviticus Kitrell.”

  “Well, Josiah is my sister’s father. So just how exactly do you fit into this?”

  “Well, truth be told, Josiah is the name on your sister’s birth certificate, but he was never her father.”

  “How do you figure that?”

  “Well, I’m not sure if you realize this or not, but you can put about anyone’s name on a birth certificate. That doesn’t make them your father. As a matter of fact, plenty of women name the one that they wish was the father. The one that had the good job with the benefits or didn’t have a criminal record. The one that she hopes she can convince that he’s the father. Isn’t that what all of these paternity court shows are all about? Some girl trying to convince some guy that he’s the daddy of their baby, whether it’s true or not?”

  “Are you saying that my mom was a liar?”

  “I’m just saying that sometimes a man is so unqualified for fatherhood that women name someone else, or worse, they don’t name anyone at all.”

  Josiah, or Leviticus as he now claimed to be, had no idea what a chord he had struck with Alma. She nearly burst into tears right then. Instead she excused herself and made her way into the women’s restroom. Her mom had left the entry for her father blank on her birth certificate. It simply stated “unknown”. When she’d had to get a copy of her birth certificate for college it had nearly broke her heart to see the void whether her father’s name should have been. Her mom hadn’t tried to explain it. When Marissa had gone on her fatherhood search she at least had a name to search for. That Leviticus was claiming her mom had created a name wasn’t unlikely in the least. Maybe she decided that a fake name was better than no name when she had her second child. Josiah had never been a part of Marissa’s life, but he had paid child support, albeit against his will. Maybe that was just her mom’s strategy to make ends meet as a single mother.

  Alma took a deep breath in an attempt to compose herself. She exited the bathroom just in time to see Flo, as she had nicknamed her in her mind, leaving the table. All she need was to say, “Kiss my grits” for the image from the seventies TV show to be complete.

  Leviticus was buttering his toast when she sat back down. He looked up and nodded his head to acknowledge her return.

  She sat down and stirred her oatmeal with the large soup spoon Flo had provided. She didn’t have much of an appetite for the oatmeal or even the rest of the conversation. Leviticus picked up the conversation as though she had never left.

  “So, what could I do so bad that she didn’t want to include my name? I’m sure that’s what you want to know. Well, I’ll just start off by stating that I was no saint. I know you’ve probably done some research on Josiah, but let me fill you in on Leviticus. I started off as a good kid. Football team, decent student, not great, but I could’ve made it in college. Well, the war came and they were drafting kids right out of high school. One of my uncles recommended that I join the Air Force. Since the draft was inevitable, I could choose the branch that was least likely to have me in harm’s way on the front line. Vietnam was going on and everyone that went and actually came back, came back different. I ended up in Turkey and served my four years. I don’t regret that decision, but I regret not listening to my uncle and his warning about drinking. Alcoholism runs in the family, he said. If you like the taste of it, run from it, he cautioned. But what did I know? I was 18 and the commander allowed us to drink. His position was if you’re old enough to fight and die for your country then you’re old enough to have a drink. It made sense at the time, but that was the beginning of my losing battle with alcohol.”

  Leviticus paused long enough to take a bite of food and Flo miraculously appeared with the bill. Leviticus reached for it, but Alma was quicker to the draw.

  “I insist,” she stated. She had let Leviticus share his tale and she couldn’t help but be riveted. He had introduced himself to her as a liar, but now she had no doubt that he was telling her the truth. At least some portion of the truth. He hadn’t gotten to whatever it was he had done that had convinced her mom not to name him on Marisa’s birth certificate, but she was certain it was coming.

  “So I get out of the military, it was an honorable discharge, but that was a courtesy. My drinking had gotten to the point that I had become sloppy in some areas. They encouraged me not to re-enlist and I took them up on the offer. So here I was, this 22 year old strapping young veteran with a high school diploma and no plan at all for the future. I worked odd jobs here and there, but I drank more than I worked. I met your mom out at a club. She was this foxy young thing. She had this nice fro and shape that wouldn’t quit. She put me in mind of a young Pam Grier. All of the fellas were trying to dance with her. She danced with a few and then I got my turn,” he laughed at his memories.

  “Wow, I was smooth back then. I spent so much time in bars and nightclubs drinking that I picked up a few dance moves along the way. One of the good things about the military is that you meet people from all over the world. There was this dude from New York that always knew all of the latest music and dances, even way over in Turkey. When I finally returned stateside, I could get down with the best of them and your mom was feeling my vibe. We’ll just say that one thing led to another and she became my lady. We shacked up for a while and somewhere along the way she realized that I was a mean drunk. I never hit her, that’s not how I was raised, but I broke her heart on more than one occasion. I flirted with lots of other women, went home with a couple, I was always between jobs, it seemed like if I ever tried to take one step f
orward I would end up ten steps back. I could never get ahead. I ended up in this fight one night. Flirting with the wrong man’s woman and dude pulled a knife on me. Long story short, I got the knife away from him and when the cops showed up dude said it was my knife. I spent some time in prison for that. I got cleaned up in prison, but the minute I got out I found myself looking for your mother. She was with some other joker. Josiah. He was a mean one and he didn’t mind putting his hands on your mother. I showed back up, trying to be a savior of sorts, but it wasn’t long before I realize that an ex-con couldn’t get a job and I ended up selling pharmaceuticals as the young folks call them now. Next thing I knew I was back in prison and your mom had moved on. That’s the cliff notes version, but it’s the truth, which is what you’re looking for right?”

  Alma nodded. As she sat across this man she had a moment of inspiration.

  “So you knew the real Josiah,” she hesitated a moment, “did you know my father?”

  “All I knew about your father was that your mom was better off without him. What did your mom tell you about him?”

  “Just that. She didn’t even give me a name.”

  “And you didn’t ask?”

  “I did, when I was younger. Let’s just say that circumstances made it such that I just didn’t care. If he didn’t want to know who I was then I certainly wasn’t going to go out of my way trying to find out who he was.” If she had to be honest she hadn’t thought twice about her decision not to know her father until Marissa had started her search. With her mother now dead she had no way of locating the rolling stone that had left an avalanche of misery in his wake.