Never Say Never (25 page)

Jamal held up one hand, and with his other he led me into the living room. When we sat on the sofa, he said, “Now tell me again, slower this time.” He paused and, with the back of his hand, wiped away my tears.

When he touched me, I remembered everything that I was trying so hard to forget.

“Now,” he said softly, “are you ready to start over?”

I nodded and took a moment before I said, “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have lied to you.” His touch had calmed me. “I wanted to talk to you about what happened between us and how I talked to Emily yesterday in church.”

“You talked to Emily?” he asked, with wide eyes.

“No, no, not about us. In church, she asked about our . . . lunch. She wanted to know if everything was okay because she was worried about you. She said you were home in bed and I felt so bad. I knew it was because of me. And I wanted to apologize for that.”

“I didn't stay home because of you. There's no reason for you to apologize.”

This time, he was the one who wasn't telling the truth. There were a million reasons to apologize. But I continued, “I also wanted to make sure that we had our stories straight.” I paused. “Our stories straight, oh, God!” I lowered my head and covered my face with my hands. “That means that I'm going to have to keep lying, oh, God!”

“Miriam, Miriam.” He called my name softly. “This is going to be all right.
We're
going to be all right.”

I hid my face in my hands for a few moments longer, then sat up straight, though I didn't feel any stronger. But my voice was steadier. “Jamal, I don't want to lose you as a friend. Even before Chauncey passed away you meant the world to me. So I don't want what happened to change us. Please.”

Jamal shook his head.

“If I lost you now, it would be like . . . it would be like . . .” My chin hit my chest and I had to fight to hold the tears.

“Miriam, you're not going to lose me. Nothing's going to change. We're still friends. We'll always be friends.”

The softness of his voice, the tenderness of his words, made me sob, even though I didn't want to.

He pulled me into his arms and I cried into his chest, not quite sure why I couldn't stop these tears. Maybe it was because I was grateful. Maybe it was because I still had his friendship and that meant that my heart would go on beating.

I worked hard to pull myself together and finally, I looked up. I wanted to thank him, but then his lips were right there and . . .

Just like the other day, I don't know if I kissed him or he kissed me. But we were together again.

This time, it was better. Because it was familiar and somehow, some way, it felt right.

Gently, Jamal pushed me back onto the sofa, but then he paused for just a moment. “Are we alone?” he asked, his voice sounding huskier, sexier.

It was a strange time to ask, because even if the house had been filled with people, I would've lied. I would've said anything to keep this feeling going.

“Yes.” I hardly recognized my voice. I pulled him back toward me and kissed him like my life depended on it. This time, I was the one who broke away, rolled off the couch, and led him into my bedroom. I was the one who tore his clothes off while I slipped out of mine. And I was the one who pulled him down on top of me as if I was sex-starved. I was the one out of my mind.

We didn't last long; I guess Jamal was as hungry as I was, and not long after we started, we lay side by side, breathing heavily. I rested my head on Jamal's chest and he held me as if I belonged there.

I let many silent minutes go by and then I asked, “What—”

Before I said another word, Jamal finished for me, “—are we doing?”

Then, together, we said, “I don't know.”

I said, “But, Jamal—”

“Sssshhh.” He hugged me closer to him. “We don't have to figure this out. Not right now.”

I nodded and just let him hold me. I said, “Can I say one thing?”

“You can say anything.”

“When I'm with you, I feel so good. I'm sorry, God help me, but I do. When I'm with you, I don't feel like only half of my heart is beating.”

Even though he didn't say anything, I wasn't sorry for what I'd said. My words were probably going to scare him, but I had to let him know how I felt.

He rocked my world when he said, “You make me feel good, too, Miriam.”

At that point, if the heavens had opened and angels started singing, I wouldn't have been surprised.

Jamal kissed the top of my head, rolled out of the bed, and asked if he could take a quick shower. As he did, I waited in bed, dreaming with my eyes open.

Once he'd showered and dressed, he moved toward me. And just like on Saturday, he leaned down and kissed my forehead. Then he left without saying another word.

But this time, I didn't cry. This time, I wasn't heartbroken.

Because unlike Saturday, this time, I knew Jamal would be back.

24

Emily

T
here had never been any doubt in my mind, but I knew it now for sure—I had the best husband in the world. Even though I hadn't been home in twenty-four hours and even though I couldn't give Jamal an estimated time of arrival now, he only had one concern.

“How are you?” he asked. “Did you get any sleep last night?”

“A little,” I said, only because I didn't want to worry him. The truth was that my eyes hadn't closed since I'd been in bed with him yesterday morning. I'd stayed up through the night because LaTonya had been awake. Without the sedatives that Dr. Caster had been giving her, she hadn't slept. Instead, she talked about her sister. And when she wasn't talking, she was crying. And when she wasn't crying, she was screaming.

I'd tried to calm her throughout the night, but she hadn't settled down until an hour ago.

“I miss you, babe,” Jamal said.

“I know. But as soon as I talk to Doctor Caster, I'll be home. And as soon as I can, we'll be on that plane to Maui. So, how's Junior? Did he make the basketball team?”

“Uh . . . well . . . I didn't go with him. It turned out that Charlie was able to take him.”

“Oh,” I said, a bit surprised. “Why didn't you just go with Charlie?”

“I got there a little late—you know, Monday traffic.”

“Well, I hope he made the team because I'd love to go to his games.”

“Yeah, and I'm going to make sure that I hang out with the boys now that Mama Cee and Charlie are leaving.”

“That's right! Today.” I moaned. “I should be fired as a friend.”

“Don't say that.”

“No, I really feel bad about not seeing Miriam. Hell, I haven't spent enough time with you.”

“Em, stop being so hard on yourself. It's not like you're hanging out. You're working.”

“Doctor Harrington-Taylor.” I turned around and faced Dr. Caster. I held up one finger, silently asking him to give me a moment.

He nodded, but didn't move away.

“Honey, I have to go, but I'll call you in a couple of hours, okay?”

“Okay, and Emily?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you, babe. I love you so much.”

He hung up before I could tell him the same.

“Sorry to interrupt your call,” Dr. Caster said. “Can we talk?”

I nodded and followed him down two long hallways before we stepped into a sparse, white-walled office. I sat in the single chair that was on the other side of a desk that could've been purchased at IKEA.

Without any formalities, the doctor said, “It's been seventy-two hours.” There was so much more to his statement. Really, he was asking what I was going to do with LaTonya now.

I shook my head. “Seventy-two hours and I don't have any idea where we should go from here.”

“Well, as you know,” he said, “a person cannot be released from the hold until they agree not to try suicide again.”

“That's the rule for adults, but how do we handle a six-year-old?”

He nodded as if he felt my pain. “We know she still has these tendencies. She may not understand what she's doing, but she still wants to do it and I have to fill out this report. All I can say is that she's still talking about killing herself,” the doctor told me.

“She doesn't say that.” I had to protect LaTonya because in this case, words really mattered. Everything was going to be put in her file. “She says that she wants to go to heaven,” I said, wanting the doctor to be clear.

He replied, “If those are the words you want me to use—”

“So once you write this report, what will this mean? Are we actually going to put her into some kind of institution? Some kind of psychiatric hospital?”

The doctor didn't answer me; at least he didn't respond with words.

“I can't see that.” I stood and paced. “An institution with a whole bunch of other kids, who will be older than her, which won't help. I know for a fact I can help her. But I have to reach her on her level. I need a little more time.”

“Well, I have to write this report today, and all I can say today is that she still has these tendencies if she's not restrained.”

“So, we're just going to commit her?” Before he answered, I said, “Wait, I have an idea.” Slowly, I sat back down, trying to formulate at least half a plan in my head. “I know what I'm about to ask isn't normally done, but what about if we kept her here?”

The doctor was already shaking his head. “I don't have the staff to take care of her. There's no psych unit here.”

“No, what I'm saying is that you keep her in her room and I'll stay with her.”

He shook his head slightly, but I went on to explain.

“If you can have her admitted, I'll stay with her twenty-four-seven. The nurses can come in to check her wounds, but I'll be there as her counselor. And with me watching her constantly, she'll receive the same kind of care as she would in an institution.”

Again, he shook his head. “You can't stay with her all day and all night. Who will relieve you?”

“I haven't thought this all the way through, but I can make this happen. I have colleagues who can give me a couple of hours, but for the most part, it will be me. I'm willing to make this sacrifice for that little girl and I'm telling you it'll work.”

“I don't know,” the doctor said, his voice full of doubt. “This is highly irregular.”

“What's irregular is having a six-year-old trying to get to heaven and we're about to commit her. There's nothing normal about this, so I say drastic situations call for drastic measures.”

At least he wasn't shaking his head anymore, so I decided to go for the slam dunk.

“Think about the alternative, Doctor. Think about taking this child, who has already lost her sister, away from her home, her parents, especially her mother. We're supposed to help our patients, but sending LaTonya away won't be helping her at all.”

I could see in his eyes that I had scored.

“Okay,” he said, nodding and holding up his hand as if he couldn't take another word from me. “I'll do it. I'll give you a week.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” I said, stopping myself from jumping up and doing a dance.

“But,” he cautioned, “just a week. After that, we're going to need
the room, we're going to need the nurses, we're going to need to fill out the paperwork and send her wherever she needs to go.”

“I understand.”

“And, like you said, Doctor, you or another doctor will have to be with her at all times.”

“I'm going to go home for a couple of hours now, but then when I come back, it'll be all worked out,” I said, standing up. I wanted to get out of his office before he had second thoughts. “She'll be completely under my care.”

“That's good enough for me.” He shook my hand. “Good luck, Doctor.”

I resisted telling him that luck had nothing to do with this. I was going to work like this was up to me, then pray like it was up to God. That combination always worked for me. “Thank you so much,” I told him before I rushed from his office.

The thoughts were swirling in my head as I made my way down the hall. I had to explain this to the Millers, I had to explain this to Jamal, and I had to figure this out in my own mind.

Peeking into LaTonya's room, I was glad to see that she was still asleep. Her parents were at the side of her bed, holding hands, of course. I had to do this as much for them as for LaTonya. This young couple would never survive losing both of their children so tragically.

I watched them until Mr. Miller looked up. I motioned for him and his wife to join me in the hallway. Mrs. Miller hesitated, but I held up one finger, letting her know she wouldn't be away from her daughter too long.

As soon as they came out, I said, “We're going to keep LaTonya here for a few more days.”

“Really?” Mr. Miller said. “I thought you said that she'd only be here seventy-two hours.”

“That's what we'd hoped, but we're concerned that she still wants to hurt herself.”

“But she hasn't tried anything,” Mrs. Miller said.

Those were the words of a grieving mother. Yes, LaTonya hadn't tried anything, but she'd been restrained most of the time.

I didn't address Mrs. Miller's words. I just said, “Since we can't release her to go home, I've arranged for the hospital to let her stay here. And I will stay with her.” Before Mrs. Miller could protest, I added, “You'll be here with her, too.”

The Millers looked at each other and nodded, then Mr. Miller turned back to me. “We just want our daughter to get well, and we know that you'll help her.”

“I'm going to try.”

“Thank you, Doctor Harrington,” Mr. Miller said, and his wife nodded as well.

“No problem.” I stopped short of saying I was just doing my job. Because even though I was, this was my mission as well. “I'm going home to freshen up and take care of a few things. I'll see you in a couple of hours.”