49
Your father is alive.
The words were an ongoing mantra in Shayna's ears, continuing well after the conversation with her mother had ended, a long time past when she'd left the room so that her mother could sleep. Four simple words, yet their combination so impacted her world that there was barely room left to breathe, none left to think. Shayna knew this because from then until now she'd tried to process the words her mother had told her, had tried to go from realization to rationalization, tried to figure which emotion she should hang on to the longest: anger, sadness, confusion, all of the above?
Your father is alive.
She had not even cried yet, and she felt she should. All these years that she'd longed for him, had ached for knowledge of the other half of Shayna, dreamed of what it would have been like to talk to him, hear his voice, know his full name.
Not what it would have been like, what it will be like.
Maybe it was the impending birth of a life from a man whom Beverly loved and wanted to be around the child, maybe it was her love for Larsen and desireâno, desperate need to keep himâthat had finally loosed this particular part of her mother's tongue from the place of secrets it had occupied for twenty-five years. Whatever the matter, Shayna now knew more than she ever had about the man who helped make her: Antonio Bell, whom most of the world called Slick.
“I met him at a club,” Beverly had told her. “I was barely out of high school and he was twenty-five.” Shayna hadn't missed the irony that she was learning this truth at the age her father had been when he and her mother had met. “I was crazy about him right away and even though my friends warned me not to do it, I got with him that very night. We were hot and heavy, and then I was pregnant. Everything happened so fast, which is why I had no time to learn that he was married, with a baby already on the way.
“I was so in love with him, Shayna. Your father was my life, my very breath. I told him I was pregnant, and that he would have to make a choiceâher or me. He chose her, and it devastated me, took me to a place I never thought I could be. I hated him, for years, and wanted to hurt him the way he'd hurt me, which I'm sorry to say that I used you to do. I saw him one day, shortly after you were born. When he asked about you, I lied and said I'd miscarried. He didn't learn about you until almost a dozen years later. By then he was locked up, so it was easy for me to ignore the messages he sent through his cousin, my only remaining contact to that life. Several years after that, he stopped trying to contact me. And I tried to forget the awful thing I'd done.”
“But all those years I asked about him, how could you tell me he was dead?”
“I never said that word.”
“You implied it! âThe streets took him.' That's what you said. When you said there was no way I could ever see him, that he was gone forever, what did you think that would mean to someone who was eight, ten, fourteen years old!”
A premature contraction had happened then, doubling over Beverly and ending the conversation. Well, almost. Shayna did have one more question before she left the room. “How do I find my father?” to which Beverly had replied, “I'll help you.” And Shayna gained a parent . . . just like that.
“Why are you sitting in the dark?” Shayna hadn't heard the front door open, hadn't been aware that Jarrell had walked into the room. “Is it Beverly? Did something happen?”
Shayna snorted. “Beverly's fine.”
Jarrell walked over to the light switch and turned the dimmer to its first position. He continued across the room and sat next to Shayna on the couch. “Doesn't look like you're fine.”
“I've been better.”
“What happened, Shay? Something with you and your dude?”
Shayna slowly shook her head. She hadn't even thought of what this news might mean to her career, and to her relationship with Michael. With information available at the tip of one's finger about all of the world and everybody in it, there were a thousand ways that this news could get out.
How will Michael feel knowing that the father of the woman he's dating is a felon? How will my sponsors feel? Will the Triple S brand be affected and if so, how?
And then Shayna realized that in this moment she didn't give a damn about how the public, her supporters, or her boyfriend would feel. This was an “all about her” moment right about now.
Jarrell inched closer. “What happened, Shay? You're scaring me.”
Shayna's eyes were wide and fearful as she turned them on her childhood friend and ex-lover. “My father isn't dead, Jay. I found out tonight that he's in prison. He's been alive all of these years, Jay, all of this time.” With that simply delivered truth, something burst inside Shayna's chest and one lone tear gathered at the corner of her eye. It felt so good falling that another one joined the party and soon she was letting out the anger and frustration and surprise. And she was doing so wrapped in Jarrell's arms.
50
Michael sat in the coolness of his shaded patio, watching the ripples of water cascade over the edge of his infinity pool. It looked so peaceful, that blue liquid ribbon, totally unlike the tumultuous fire burning in his heart. It had been thirty minutes since he'd gotten off the phone with Shayna. And still, he hadn't moved. Of course he'd been shocked to hear the news of Shayna's father. But that wasn't what had bothered him the most. What had him now fuming was how many times in the retelling of the last two days' chain of events Jarrell's name had been mentioned.
“The next day we all talked about it,” Shayna had told him. “Me, Mom, Larsen, and Jay.”
“Why would you want to discuss something so personal with them?” he'd asked.
And not me first,
he'd also wondered but had not voiced.
“Because,” Shayna had continued after a patience-inducing sigh, “Larsen and Jay grew up in the same neighborhood as us, and their dads (because each of them had a different one) knew some of the same people as my father. Jay called his father and it turns out that his dad knows my father's cousin, the one with whom Mom lost contact so long ago. He's going to try and help us find him, the cousin. So that I can get in touch with my father.”
Then Michael had heard Jarrell's voice, low and muffled. “Thank you,” had been Shayna's reply. Michael was still trying to figure out what it was he'd heard in her voice. Gratitude? Affection? He couldn't tell.
Michael's phone rang again. At least a dozen calls had been ignored since talking with Shayna, and that was just from the BlackBerry on the patio table. He'd also heard his landline and God only knew how many calls he'd missed on his phone, the one he used mostly for office and clients. The others he'd not wanted to talk to, but after glancing at the ID, picked up the phone. “Hi, Mama.”
“Hello, Michael. You must be at the office.”
“No, I'm at home.”
“Then why aren't you answering your home phone?”
“I'm out back, on the patio.”
A pause and then, “What's wrong, son?”
Michael told her. About the news of Shayna's father and about Jarrell's role in helping her contact him. “He supposedly has this girl in Vegas, and no interest in Shayna. But that's not what my gut says, Mama. I don't trust him around my girl.”
“It's not him you have to trust, son. It's Shayna. Does she know how you feel? Have you even told her you love her?”
“I did, and she didn't say it back.” Michael realized his voice was precariously close to sounding like that of a two-year-old, but that was the least of his worries at the moment.
“Sounds like you need to step up your game.”
“You think I should go to Vegas?”
“I think you should do more than that. I think you should find a piece of jewelry to go along with those earrings you bought her.”
Michael ended the call, thinking about what his mother had said. He tried to look at the situation from Shayna's perspective and realized that when he did, some of his anger faded. Here she'd found out the kind of news that was earth shattering and life changing, and all he'd been consumed with was the fact that her ex and not him had heard the news from her first.
How must she be feeling now? What was she going to do?
Thinking of Shayna and the surprising news about her father turned his thoughts toward Sam Morgan. So many memories, such a large part his father had played in his life, from the very beginning. Their activities had been varied and many: hunting, fishing, trips to the beach. But more than anything, sports had been the constant that had made him and his dad so close. All of the boys loved sports and played sports. But Michael was the only one for whom sports was a passion bordering on obsession. He remembered staying up nights, talking stats with his father, never tiring of hearing his dad tell stories about how he'd been a great football player and had almost turned pro.
Tears came to Michael's eyes and fell as he remembered those good times, those heartfelt conversations, the wisdom and lessons his father had imparted to him. As he wiped his eyes, he realized that it had been a long time since he'd cried for his father. And in that moment he realized something else. He also cried for Shayna.
51
“Happy Valentine's Day, baby.” Michael leaned over and brushed his lips over Shayna's.
“Thank you, Michael. This is so wonderful. Happy Valentine's Day.”
This lover's holiday had fallen on a weeknight, but that had done nothing to dampen the mood of the diners in the exclusive Foundation Room. A mostly members-only area atop of Mandalay Bay, the plushly designed interior was a paradise of East-meets-West, understated and elegant, with a sweeping view of the colorful Strip. Conversation had been hushed, and glances telling, as those fortunate enough to get a coveted reservation on this, the most popular of nights for the award-winning restaurant, had not been disappointed. Amid the teal heavy velvet curtains, priceless Oriental rugs, stark white linens, and silver changed after every course, came some of the best food Shayna had ever eaten: jumbo lump crab cakes, “street” tacos filled with Maine lobster, Angus beef tenderloin, creamed Swiss chard, sherry-braised mushrooms, truffle macaroni and cheese, and now, the pièce de résistance, a molten chocolate cake oozing with don't-even-think-about-the-calories goodness. Michael had arrived in town just before seven. Since the start of their dating, this was the longest the two had been apart, just over two weeks. He'd picked her up at Beverly's house, taken her to a showroom for the custom-designed dress and shoes she now wore, and continued on to this fancy restaurantâits ambiance as luxurious as the wine that Michael drank and Shayna sipped. Conversation had been easy, mostly about the Super Bowl and his time spent in New Orleans, a new client he'd picked up and another who, after a seventh arrest, he'd finally dropped. Shortly before the dessert course, conversation wound back around to Shayna, Vegas, her mother, and Jarrell.
“Your mother must be climbing the walls, having to stay in bed all day.”
“It's driving her crazy, especially not being able to come and go”â
run after her husband
â“as much as she'd like. Larsen lost a couple drivers and his business hasn't slowed since the holidays. It makes for long work hours, which Mom doesn't like at all. Thank God that Jay has been there. He's helped me keep her calm about the situation and focused on staying positive until she has this baby.”
“Why, what is there to be negative about?”
Shayna hesitated for a moment before taking Michael into her confidence. “Mom has been suspecting Larsen of cheating for a long time. That's one of the reasons she got pregnant, as a way to keep him.” Michael shook his head. “I know, it's the age-old go-to that women have used since the beginning of time.”
“And one that hasn't worked since then.”
“Exactly. But it is what it is, and for now, Larsen seems to be focused on work and his family. Jay has been honest with her, admitting that Larsen hasn't been above a booty call here and there, but assuring that my mother is where his heart is. For now, she believes him.”
“When is the baby due?”
“In April.”
“I miss you, baby. Please tell me that you don't plan on staying until then.”
“No. I talked to Coach and he needs me back there. The next Classic series meet is in Colorado Springs. Because of the altitude, we've got to train differently. I have to be back at work next week. But I'm worried about my mother. We're closer now than we've ever been. It's going to be hard to leave her. I'm thinking about doing the Classic and a couple other events and then taking a leave for two or three months after the summer meets are done.”
“To live here? In Vegas?”
“It's not that far from LA. Just a forty-five minute plane ride. Maybe you could come down here when your schedule permits and I could visit you like every other weekend.”
“Every other weekend? Let me ask you something, and no, I'm not trying to be upset or upset you. I just want to know something.”
“What?”
“Does Jarrell know that you're planning to do this?”
“Yes, but only because Larsen is his brother and they've talked about my mom.”
“Did your mom ask you to come down, or did Jarrell?”
“Jarrell did, but that's only because he knew it was what my mom wanted.”
“Baby, it's what he wants.”
“Remember when I found out about all the women and the phone numbers and you asked me to trust you? Well, now that's what I'm asking you to do for me. This is something that I want to do as well. It will help me get closer with my mother, and to bond with my little brother.”
“So she knows it's a boy?”
Shayna nodded. “I know you might not be one hundred percent in agreement with it, but since losing my grandmother, strengthening my relationship with my motherâand now that I've found him, my fatherâis very important to me.”
Michael reached across the table. “That's why I'm here, baby. So that you don't have to face situations like this alone. Even before you told me this, I had talked to Mama about it and she had an idea.”
“You talked to your mother about my mom's pregnancy?”
Michael nodded. “More specifically, the bed rest. Mom suggested I hire a nurse to stay with your mom until she's had the baby. I've already talked to Gregory and he's putting out some feelers at the hospital. How does that sound to you?”
“Baby!” Shayna rushed over to hug him. “That's such a wonderful idea!” When she pulled back there were tears in her eyes and as she sat back down, her joy had been replaced with worry. “But a full-time nurse is going to be expensive. I can't believe you'd do all of that for me.”
“I'd do that and much more,” Michael said. “I told you, baby. I love you.”
This time it was Shayna who grabbed Michael's hand. “And I love you, Michael Morgan. I really do. I love you.” She kissed him and then asked, “Would you be okay with me staying a little while in Vegas?”
“We'd have to look for a house or a condo,” he said with a sigh. “And I'd have to coordinate it with my schedule.”
“Why?” Shayna asked, truly perplexed.
“What do you mean, why? Because I'd be living down here with you, of course.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes, that's so. Do you have a problem with that?”
“No, Mr. Morgan,” Shayna said, kissing him again. “No problem at all.”