Guilty of Love (11 page)

“
I always do.”

Hallison hung up, too scared to
recapture the erotic dream that previously had her enthralled. “No
offense, Lord, but I want Malcolm. You’ll just have to
understand.”

Saturday morning Cheney prayed, if a
person counted,
Blessed are the peacemakers,
as a prayer.
She couldn’t remember the rest, but it would have to do because she
needed a peaceful reunion with her family, but this was her family
she was trying to fool. Grudge was their middle name, and Payback
could be their last.

After dressing in a sleeveless black
shirt and a multi-color pair of capris, she walked outside to the
curb. Standing behind a large tree, she fumbled with ribbons tied
to balloons when Parke zoomed by in a jogging suit.

“
Keep going, keep going,
keep going,” she chanted, pretending not to notice him.

Parke glanced over his right shoulder
and stopped abruptly. “Cheney? Is that you?”

She finished looping the ribbons in
knots. “Yes, Parke,” she answered dryly.

“
Wow.” He strutted back
toward her with his head cocked, doing a slow inspection. “Woman,
you clean up real good. I hardly recognized you without the sweats.
And you’re wearing makeup, too?” He stepped back, whispering,
“Nice.”

His one word gave her an unexpected
pleasure. “Thanks. Funny, my radar picked you up, and I’m getting
warning signals to run for my life.”

“
Smooth, Miss Reynolds, I’m
sure there’s flattery hidden somewhere in there. What’s with the
balloons?”

“
I don’t have time for
Twenty Questions. I’m having a housewarming, good-bye.”

Parke didn’t budge. Instead he looked
her up and down. “You know, red lipstick brings out your full lips,
and you look kinda cute in civilian clothes.”

She laughed at his off-handed
compliment. “I can’t come out and play right now. Go away. I’m
already nervous.”

“
Unbelievable.”

“
What?” She frowned,
wondering why she was giving him her time.

“
When you laugh, your face
glows. It’s definitely because of your lips.”

“
Parkay, I’ve already been
romanced by the world’s finest, most charming and the biggest lying
brotha God ever made, so save your sweet talk.” She turned and sped
back to her porch just as Mrs. Beacon peeked out her
window.

“
Cheney!”

She looked over her
shoulder.

“
A hostile attitude is
unbecoming. I’m not your enemy,” Parke yelled after her.

She slammed her front door in
response, then leaned against it.
He was right,
Cheney could
hear Imani scolding her. Every man wasn’t her adversary. She would
apologize next time she saw Parke.

At noon, Cheney’s doorbell chimed. Her
heart played volleyball between anticipation and caution. She did
one last inspection. Everything was perfect. She raced to the door
as she smoothed her hair back into its ponytail. She sniffed to
control happy tears. She didn’t realize how much she ached to see
them.

Opening the door, she came
face-to-face with a picture-perfect family. Her mind flashed back
to when Larry said they would have a family later. She cursed Larry
a hundred times, but she’d have a happy ending. Count on it.
I
control my destiny
.

Janae Reynolds Allen, Cheney’s older
sister was a butterscotch version of her and shorter. Janae cradled
her one-year-old son, Alex. Her husband, Bryce, enfolded their
three-year-old daughter, Natalie’s small hand. He appeared
uncomfortable as he shifted his eyes from his wife to Cheney’s
shoes to an antique porch light. But he didn’t meet her eyes.
What’s his problem?

Refocusing, Cheney smiled at her cute
little niece and nephew, forcing back anymore flashbacks that would
cause her to shut the door and run upstairs sobbing for the child
she chose not to have. “Janae, they’re beautiful. Natalie looks
just like me, and Alex favors Rainey,” Cheney said, hoping for an
olive branch.

“
That’s what I told her.
She didn’t even need me,” Bryce joked.

“ ‘
Bout time you came home
and saw them. Too bad you refused to be here when they were born. I
still don’t understand what your problem was anyway,” Janae snapped
in a neutral tone.

“
Not now, Jay,” Bryce
admonished his wife.

She already felt guilty for not
choosing to be a mother and guiltier she wasn’t around to witness
her sister become one. Saying nothing, Cheney allowed her guests to
enter, carrying their wrapped gifts.

“
Your father couldn’t make
it. He sends his regards and a very nice gift,” her mother, Gayle
Francine Reynolds, stated as if his absence was
commonplace.

Shoulders slumped, Cheney bowed her
head to hide her disappointment. How could he not be here? She was
daddy’s little girl. At one time she could talk to him about
anything. That stopped with Larry. Of all the family members who
might have knowledge about her abortion, Dr. Roland Jerome Reynolds
was the likely candidate.

Gayle air-kissed Cheney’s cheeks as
she entered the house, leading the small procession. A little
physical contact might have healed her weak heart
.
“Why?”

“
Roland is speaking at a
medical conference on hormone replacement therapy.”

That was unusual since her father
usually skipped medical conferences, joking he could achieve
boredom from reading the journals, so why listen to the
verbiage.

Rainey, Cheney’s fraternal twin
brother hovered over her by four inches. He was strikingly
handsome, muscular, and several shades darker than Cheney. His
jet-black curly hair and thick mustache gave him a Hispanic look.
Rainey brushed a kiss against her cheek as he stepped into the
house. “Hey, Twin.”

A touch.
Warmth spread
throughout her body. Ahhh, she hadn’t heard that expression in
years. “Hey, Twin.” She knew she could count on her
brother.

Without turning around, Cheney could
feel everyone’s eyes staring at her back, even little
Natalie’s.

Her brother broke the ice. Everything
would be all right now. “Welcome to
mi
casa.
Feel
free to look around and make yourselves at home.”

Rainey rubbed his hands together. “All
right, you don’t have to tell me twice. Where’s the
food?”

Janae flopped down on Cheney’s new
teal sofa, cuddling and rocking Alex. She fingered the purple,
plum, and yellow accent pillows. “Hmm, flashy colors, not
earth-tones?” She scanned the rooms, then shrugged. “But
nice.”

Bryce cleared his throat and shook his
head, his eyes scolding his wife. That was a clear indication that
instructions were given.

She’d suggested a tour when her
doorbell rang. Cheney half-hoped her father had changed his mind.
Her heart plummeted as the “ready-made migraine” stood on her
porch, not waiting to be invited inside. Dressed presentably, even
down to her bone Naturalizer shoes, Mrs. Beacon leaned on her
bamboo cane, grinning. Cheney lifted a brow. Her Stacy Adams must
be at the repair shop.

A hair net held Mrs. Beacon’s silver
curls in place. Not the dear, old sweet senior citizen act. Cheney
had witnessed her move like one of Janet Jackson’s backup
dancers.

Mrs. Beacon tapped Cheney on the leg.
“I saw the balloons. Step aside, Heney, and let an old woman
through. Was I supposed to bring a gift?”

The headache started as Cheney was
about to close the door, but Imani made a production of gliding
onto her porch. She relaxed. In tow was another high school friend.
The three screamed their greetings, hugging, and grinning. Without
a doubt, Imani was responsible for coercing the woman there. She
wouldn’t be surprised if Imani paid bribe money. It didn’t matter.
Cheney could use a rent-a-friend at the moment. Imani continued to
prove her friendship throughout the years.

“
When I saw Deb at the
mall, she insisted on coming,” Imani stated.

Deb nodded, and Imani grinned.
Yep,
Imani paid her big money.

“
Deb Davidson, I haven’t
seen you since—”

“
Graduation,” the threesome
said.

“
I’m a Matthews now with
two adorable boys,” she corrected Cheney.

“
Well, Mrs. Matthews, you
look wonderful with your short self,” Cheney said as Imani gave her
hand a quick squeeze.

The former Debra Davidson was stunning
with beautiful brown eyes. She struggled with some type of plant
that was wrapped in gold-foil paper.

Mrs. Beacon tapped her cane. “Heney,
you going to let those girls in, or is the party moving
outside?”

“
Who’s that?” Imani
whispered, lifting a brow.

“
Mrs. Beacon,” Cheney
mouthed back.

Imani snickered. “This oughta be good.
This is going to be worth the flight from Australia.”

“
Who’s she?” Deb wanted to
know.

“
I’m her neighbor,” Mrs.
Beacon answered for herself.

Cheney rolled her eyes. “C’mon
in.”

“
Be nice,” Deb
offered.

“
She doesn’t have to. This
is her house,” Imani tossed back loud enough for her crazy neighbor
to hear. Once inside, Imani’s eyes sparkled as she glanced around.
“This is nice. Your flair for decorating is commendable. The
hardwood looks wet and the shutters’ stain is a perfect match.
Girl, I have to hand it to you, this is your palace.”

Setting aside their gifts, Deb greeted
Cheney’s family, and Imani hugged them. An hour later after touring
every room, the gaiety began to dissipate as guests nibbled on
sandwiches, fruit, and vegetables. Cheney’s friends continued to
rave about the renovations while her mother and sister mumbled
their contradictions. Her niece, Natalie, didn’t want to leave the
little girl’s bedroom upstairs.

Her mother lifted her chin in a show
of superiority as she bit into a mini strawberry cheesecake
dessert. “I love the hardwood floors, but the loud colors for the
furniture? You’ll grow tired of that teal sofa. A neutral color
would’ve been better.”

Mrs. Beacon, who had been behaving,
got everyone’s attention with a booming voice. “Leading decorators
suggest using bright colors liberally as accents when remodeling
because it symbolizes life and emits cheerful energy.”

Gayle brushed imaginary dirt from her
spotless pants. “Hmm, I see.” She glared at Cheney as if she was
the one who made the comment.

Imani grinned. Cheney was dumbfounded
at the woman posing as Mrs. Beacon.

Natalie clapped her hands as Bryce
bounced her on his knee. “Ant Che wooks wike my box of
crayos.”

Everybody chuckled.

“
Mom, I think the colors
blend well,” Rainey added with a nonchalant shrug. “Personally, I
would’ve built a house in one of the newer subdivisions in West
County rather than repairing a shack way out here in North County.”
He crossed his ankle on his knee exposing his wheat nylon socks,
which matched his pants.

What is going on?
Rainey once
prided himself on taking up for her since he’s the older twin.
Maybe he hadn’t mellowed out after her phone call. “I was attracted
to Old Ferguson’s mature trees, well-maintained neighborhoods, and
established neighbors.”
Minus Mrs. Beacon, of course.
“Plus,
I’m close to work.
”

Janae wrinkled her nose as she
lovingly passed her sleeping son to her mother. “The couch is okay.
It’s the dust from the wood shutters that would drive my allergies
crazy. I would’ve chosen custom-made window treatments.”

Imani stood from the couch and walked
to the windows. She fingered the shutters before peeking outside.
“Woo-wee, if this drop-dead gorgeous man is part of the
neighborhood, girl, you’ve got a roommate,” Imani purred, twirling
around.

“
Huh? I haven’t met one
good-looking guy since I moved here.” Cheney gave her friend an odd
look as her doorbell sounded.

Cheney’s eyes almost popped out of her
head when she answered the door. Parke Jamieson, the first, second,
or third, stood outside. The soft cream colors he wore highlighted
his summer tan, showing off his well-maintained body, like she
cared.

Parke’s subtle cologne drifted past
Cheney’s nose. She stared at him like she’d never seen him before.
Handsome minus the arrogance and he could be charming.

“
If it’s about the comment
I made earlier,” she lowered her voice. “You’re right. You aren’t
my enemy. I’m sorry.”

Methodically, he removed his dark
shades, grinning like a model on a photo shoot. His teeth were
beautiful. Cheney wondered what was up his sleeve.

“
You gonna invite the young
man inside to join us, or cool the outside with the door standing
open?” Mrs. Beacon shouted, scooting across the floor with her cane
on her way to Cheney’s kitchen as if the woman were at
home.

Losing her patience, Cheney groaned as
an old movie came to mind. If Danny DeVito could
Throw Mama from
the Train,
surely she could get rid of Mrs. Beacon. She looked
back at Parke. “I said I was sorry,” she repeated through clenched
teeth.