Who Gives this Bride? Page 8

  “Yes, okay. Let me get myself together. I’m still a bit jetlagged so I’m sure I’m not making a lot of sense right now. Just know that I’m relieved, but I also owe you an explanation. Let me explain.”

  Alma was waiting with baited breath.

  “Remember when I had that health scare when I was in high school?”

  Alma remembered it clearly. That had been one of the scariest times of her life. Marissa had been so sick that she couldn’t keep anything down and had lost a ton of weight. After a while they had to hospitalize her and given her an IV for fluids. She had missed nearly a solid month of school. Alma had been a junior in college and had gotten permission to take classes remotely so she could help with Marissa’s care once she was released to come home. Her mom had said that the doctor’s didn’t know what was wrong with her and then, not long after she had come home, it seemed as though she had healed up almost overnight.

  “Well, they ran a lot of tests on me. One of the things they found was that I had endometriosis. They told me a lot of scary stuff about it, but the one thing that stood out was that they weren’t sure I’d be able to have children. Now you know mama didn’t play that and she called it a lie from the pit of hell, but it still impacted me. I let Justin know and we’re believing by faith that I’ll have as many children as I can stand, but he’s fine if I don’t. When one of his little cousins, Nikki, found out she was pregnant she was thinking of giving the baby up for adoption. Justin heard through the grapevine and we both agreed that we wanted to adopt her. It’s a little girl and she’s due in less than three months.” Marissa clasped her hands together, but Alma could tell that she was waiting for her response.

  “Wow, that’s a lot of information. Why didn’t you tell me any of this?”

  “Well mama didn’t want to talk about it at all. She decided that I was healed and that was it. I guess I was a little afraid that if I talked about it I would make it come true. Anyway, I had to tell Justin. That was only fair in case I wouldn’t be able to have a child. He promised to stand in faith with me and that was all the acceptance I needed. We were going to have a surprise baby shower and reveal, but you beat me to the punch. I hope you’re not mad that I didn’t tell you.”

  “No, I’m not mad. You and Justin will have plenty of married folk secrets, I’m just glad that this is a good one. I’m so happy for you Mimi. You’re going to be a mommy, wow.”

  “And you’re going to be an auntie,” she clapped her hands in excitement.

  “Well that is a huge relief. I was so scared that Justin was some two bit cheating creep that I didn’t sleep at all last night. I was sick just thinking about having to tell you.” Alma closed her eyes and exhaled loudly.

  “Justin’s a good guy Alma. Not every man is a rolling stone or low down dirty dog. You’ve got a good man in Marc too. I know you were just looking out for me so thank you for letting me know. So now that you’ve stolen me from my groom and raised my blood pressure unnaturally high with worry, you owe me a meal, a good one.”

  Alma rolled her eyes at her sister. She was so happy that this crisis had been averted.

  Leviticus had asked Alma for the privilege of telling Marissa his real name and his real past. Alma was glad that she had agreed to allow him that. She didn’t need to share any more drama today. She just prayed the other man in Marissa’s life, her long lost daddy, turned out to be as innocent and harmless in his intentions as Justin had.

  * * * * *

  Marc looked out the window in time to see Alma pulling up. She had given him a preview of her conversation with Marissa and he had been elated to hear that Justin was on the up and up.

  He opened the door and gave her a large embrace as soon as she stepped through the entryway. He just held her and drank in the fruity scent of her hair and lotions.

  “You smell like home,” he told her, meaning it in the best possible way. For some reason it seemed like they had been through the rockiest point of their relationship in the last week or so. He was glad that they had been able to move past that, because he had been afraid that he was about to lose what he truly believed to be the best thing that ever happened to him. It wasn’t lost on him that their issue seemed to have arrived on the same train that Leviticus had rolled in on.

  He tried not to dwell on the fact that he held one of Leviticus’ sordid secrets, probably the biggest one yet. He only hoped it resolved itself as easily as the one with Justin had. His own father had recommended that he continue to keep it in prayer and had promised to pray with him. He appreciated it, but he couldn’t help but think that he was just waiting for the other shoe to drop and praying for as little fallout as possible.

  When he finally released Alma she smiled up at him and he felt his heart tremble. He couldn’t chance losing her. He made the decision right then to let her know and clear the air.

  “Alma, I have something…” he began, but was interrupted by her squeal.

  “The DNA test!” She reached for the colorful boxes. He turned towards the kits that sat on the shelf where he had dropped his mail and keys. The kits had arrived the day before and he meant to let her know about them.

  “You know I wasn’t sure if I wanted to do this or not, but the more I thought about it the more I was certain it was a great idea. To know my genetic history, all the way back to Africa maybe, that will be so empowering. We could like adopt the cultures or visit the country and maybe even find some long lost relatives. I may not be able to find my daddy like Marissa did, but I can at least find out who I am.” Her smile began to tremble and he saw her eyes water.

  “I really need this,” she whispered. “I need to know who I am.” He embraced her again and felt her body heave as she sobbed. He knew then that now was not the time to unload his burden.

  “We both need this sweetie. I want us to take this journey together. How powerful will it be as an African American to know where you’re from? To have that sense of culture that comes from the legacy of history. A history that’s more than slavery or a generic reference to African pride. A culture that’s specific to you.” Marc felt his chest swell with emotion. He had the feeling for a while that one of the greatest travesties of slavery was the loss of a sense of belonging, of togetherness that people of other ethnicities could draw on. He took great pride in who he was as a black man and his father and grandfather had given him a very strong legacy to draw upon. He had just wanted a bit more. Alma’s own lack of paternal background had just stirred up those emotions in him again. It would be good for both of them.

  “Let’s take the test now,” Alma pulled back excitedly. She wiped her eyes and he noticed that her entire affect had changed. He had been scared that he would have to cajole her into taking the test and now she was begging him to take the plunge.

  “I read the directions earlier. You have to go at least thirty minutes without eating or drinking anything before you can take the test. It’s a spit sample,” He picked up the box, opened it and removed the tube.

  “I have to fill that up?” Alma took the tube out of his hand. “That’s a lot of spit.”

  “Well, it’s a lot of research that they’re going to do. It’s genetic, health and more,” he took the tube out of her hand and placed it back in the box.

  “It’s been more than thirty minutes since I ate or drank.” Marissa looked at him like a child on Christmas Eve begging to open up one gift early.

  “Well, not me. Come and sit with me while I wait for the chicken pasta I just ate to digest.” He pulled her behind him into the TV room.

  He hoped that the results of their DNA search yielded as many positive emotions as the anticipation on the front end did.

  * * * * *

  Leviticus sat across from Faye, Aunt Faye as Marissa referred to her. She considered herself the new matriarch of the family and he thought it only fitting that he sit down and refresh her memory a bit when it came to him. Marissa knew that he wanted to speak with Faye and Marissa had not only condoned it, she had e
ncouraged it.

  Now he sat in Faye’s den, clearly noticing that she had ushered him right past her sitting room where the honored guests sat so she could carry on and act all bougie. He was confident that she had brought him here so he wouldn’t get confused in the sitting room and think that was actually honored or even welcomed. No, he was sitting in her den on the old worn out coach with the green, orange and yellow plaid design. He prayed to God she didn’t have roaches or bedbugs because he was certain they would be undetected on the dingy sofa, even if it was crawling with them.

  Faye was sitting on the other side of the small room in her off brand lazy boy. Leviticus wasn’t sure of her story, but he was pretty sure that a man used to be in the picture at some point, if he wasn’t still.

  He wondered if she had lied to whatever mad had sat in that chair like she had lied to Marissa and Alma. She had successfully painted herself as the sainted matron of the Gibson clan. The fact of the matter was that back in the day she had been the ring leader and the fastest one of all the sisters. He wondered how long ago she had taken up her bible thumping ways in order to convince folks that this was the way she had always been. No, he remembered it much different.

  “So, I hear you are no longer Josiah, but you’re now Leviticus. Will you be turning into anyone else during your stay? If so, please let me know now so I can get my anointing oil ready.” Faye’s lip curled up into a snicker and Leviticus smiled.

  “Or will it be me who needs the oil, Sugar Baby?” As soon as he said the name it was as though her entire face dropped and hit the floor with a thud.

  “W-what are y-you talking about,” she tried to feign confusion, but Leviticus knew good and well that her clarity of mind was not in question.

  “Just ‘cause you choose to forget your past doesn’t mean everyone else does.” Leviticus leaned back on the chair and let her digest what he was saying. He knew that Faye was the key to his being accepted by Marissa and Alma. The girls looked up to Faye and he couldn’t chance her ruining it by choosing not to operate in the same forgiveness that had been extended to her.

  Her brown skin began to look a touch pallid like she had been made up by a mortician. He knew that reminding her of her days as a stripper would help humble the haughty spirit she had been judging him with. And she hadn’t been a stripper when it was as common as it was today and television showed you about as much as you could see at the club. No, she had been an old school stripper, dancing down the long dirt country road just outside of the county line in a small shack that served as the hang out spot during the day and the club at night. There was no liquor license, but plenty of liquor. He had stopped going to the “club” once he started dating Gayle. He hung around the spot during the day, drinking, gambling, and dealing to anyone that had wanted his product. He never saw Faye dance, or Sugar Baby as she called herself, but her reputation preceded her. Now that she had put on the weight of a second grown woman and gotten old like himself, he could see why it was hard to believe that she had done such things.

  “What do you want?” She spat the words out like they had a bad taste.

  “I just want to refresh your memory of who I am. When you decide to tell the girls how awful a person I was, I just want you to consider how they would feel knowing who you were during that same timeframe.” He said the words slowly so she didn’t miss his point.

  “So you want me to lie to them and paint you out to be some saint.” She glowered at him like she was sizing up whether she could take him in a fight. No doubt she could. He had grown so weak over the last few months that she could probably huff and puff and blow him right over. He was certainly not trying to get in a scuffle with the likes of her.

  “No, I’m a deadbeat. Nobody’s going to mistake me for a saint. I just want a second chance, like you had. A chance to be a decent human being and father and try, somehow, to make up for my mistakes.”

  “So refresh my memory, Gayle had a lot of suitors back in the day.”

  “As did you, Faye,” she scrunched up her face and he decided to stop agitating her.

  “I was probably the only one she really loved and I loved her back.” He felt himself get a bit emotional at the thought.

  “Scooter?” Faye uttered the nickname he hadn’t heard in what seemed to be a lifetime.

  “Wow, I thought you had pure tee fallen off the face of the earth. What about all that mess you were in, you’re not trying to bring that drama into those girls lives are you, ‘cause I don’t care who you tell about my past, I’m not going to let you hurt them. Not like you did their mama.” Faye turned lively and scooted her behind to the end of her chair so she could get the momentum to stand her ample girth up and stare down at him.

  “No, no, no,” he held up his hands and waved them almost in surrender. “I would never hurt my daughter or her sister. I promise that the Scooter you remember and all of his enemies are long dead. I’ve spent most of my life trying to get past my past. I’m only hoping that that process didn’t take so long that I can’t enjoy the girls for the little bit of time I have left on this earth,” Faye seemed to stand down when she heard the crack in his voice.

  He pinched at the bridge of his nose in a failed effort to conceal his emotions.

  “I’m going to tell them the truth about me, all of it or as much as they want to hear. They both may not be my daughters, but I’d like to be a father to both of them. I just need you to support this reconciliation. Maybe even encourage them to forgive me. They look up to you and I know you can have a big influence on whether they take that step or not. That’s the only reason I’m here. I have no interest in digging up your secrets, I’ve got enough of my own.”

  Faye looked at him and pursed her lips while she seemed to ponder his request.

  “Look,” she finally spoke after several silent seconds, “if anyone knows about escaping the past it’s me. Honestly, if you’re really a changed man, you’ll probably be the best thing for those girls. You have my blessing.” Faye reached for his arm and pulled him up to his feet like a ragdoll. Before he knew it she had wrapped her meaty arms around him and pressed him towards her into the softness of her bosom. Oddly enough, he returned the hug and smiled as the embrace reminded him of the ones his grandmother used to dole out when she was alive.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Leviticus had taken quite a bit of time getting to know Marissa and Alma. He had told them funny stories about their mother that they had never heard. When his paternity test arrived in the mail Alma had taken it in stride. She wasn’t anxious to open it and had called Marissa so she could be there when it was opened. It seemed like it should be an honor reserved for Marissa anyway. She changed out of her work clothes into something more comfortable while she waited. She thought about ordering a pizza for the two of them, but she decided not to. She had to get used to the fact that Marissa was now a wife and may have planned a meal for her and Justin.

  When Marissa showed up an hour later with Leviticus in tow, Alma was a little taken aback. It did make sense that Leviticus would be here when his presence was legitimized, but it seemed that Marissa would have let her know he was coming..

  She was confused when Marc pulled up a few minutes behind them.

  “I didn’t realize I was hosting a party,” She remarked when Marc came through the door.

  “I called Marc when you called me. Justin had to work late so he couldn’t be here,” Marissa announced as though it made sense for her to have invited this small gathering to Alma’s home with no notice at all on a Thursday night after a very long day at work. Alma would’ve ordered a couple of pizzas if she had known.

  “So who wants to do the honors,” Alma reached for the envelope and held it out towards Marissa and Leviticus. Leviticus was quiet and held his hands towards Alma and Marissa giving them the choice.

  “I’ll open it,” Marissa took the envelope and quickly opened the letter. She read over the words and then silently handed it over to Alma.

  Alma scan
ned over the words quickly until she got to the line she was looking for. She had been looking for the magical 99.99999% that they always quoted on the talk shows when they revealed paternity, but she didn’t see that figure. Instead she saw the name Josiah Carter, the original name that Leviticus had given and the one that she had submitted the paternity test under, listed as excluded.

  “What does this mean?” She looked at Marissa for an answer.

  “It means that he’s not my father.” Marissa shrugged her shoulders, but didn’t seem bothered by this fact.

  Alma looked at Leviticus for an explanation and Leviticus looked back at her, but didn’t say anything.

  “Leviticus, if that’s even your name. What is going on? You have some serious explaining to do.” She was so angry that she had let her guard down and had started to trust him. She felt like such a fool.

  “I do, I have a lot of explaining to do and I will do just that. The results are correct. I am not Marissa’s father. I’m your father.” He spoke the words and let them drop into complete silence.

  Alma looked at him in complete and total disbelief. How dare he tell yet another lie? Did he think they were going to let him keep getting away this?

  “Are you kidding me? Marissa aren’t you upset about this? He’s in all of your wedding photos, this fraud had the nerve to walk you down the aisle!”

  Alma looked around the room for support, but no one else seemed even remotely upset at his deception.

  “Alma, I know he’s not my father. Mama told me that the real Josiah died more than a decade ago.”

  Alma looked at Marissa like she was a complete stranger.

  “Mama knew his name was Leviticus, but didn’t know his last name. She gave me a few clues so I could try to locate him.”

  “Why would mama tell you that and not me?” Alma was already not liking the idea that Marissa possibly knew more about who Alma’s father was than she did.

  “Come here sweetie. Let’s talk in the other room,” Marissa fanned her hands beckoning Alma to follow.