Saint's Sacrament - Sins of the Father (105 page)

BONUS SCENE

Hello readers,

This scene was deleted before the final edit. I felt it was not needed in the story
; however, it does provide some insight and information that some readers may find entertaining and/or useful. Thank you.

(Cut Scene from, “Saint’s Sacrament — Sin’s of the Father”)

“It’s going to be okay,” Saint heard Xenia say to someone, her tone low as he made his way through entranceway after placing his jacket in the hall closet. He could feel the heavy vibe in the air and made a mental note to keep away. However, his interest was piqued as his soul connected with the tension swarming around him. Something truly was amiss. Like steam rising off a grill, her worry filled the home. He could smell it wafting in the air like fragrant perfume, intoxicating him to the point that her emotions and his mirrored, as was often the case with their connections. He stood before the half opened arched doorway of the living room, observing the scene more carefully.

Xenia sat huddled close to her friend and very best colleague in the entire world, Stacey, their heads touching as if they were Siamese twins, She gently rubbed Stacey’s back. Saint couldn’t make out Stacey clearly over the staggered gasps for air and loud deep breaths, but he saw her shoulders rising and falling. He heard the woman sobbing, the sounds piercing his heart like daggers. He hated the sound of a broken heart; he’d been responsible for the tune playing many times as well, but he’d moved on. He was working from a higher plane now, and despite Stacey’s cruel words regarding him when he was first married to Xenia, he understood that she was simply trying to protect her friend—and he never held that against her.

Stacey had been there for Xenia—a listening ear, no matter what. Both of their schedules were hectic over the years, making their times together all the sweeter. Xenia had her hands full with the radio station and now, “The Morning Tea’, and Stacey worked daytime news in television, but they’d remained close, the best of friends, more like true blood sisters. She continued to cry as Xenia patted her head. He hesitated, not wanting to disturb them. Turning away, he looked toward the kitchen to make a grand getaway. It seemed so far away, and he was frozen in his spot. Finally, he decided to go the way he had come and up the steps. He heard the children frolicking in the playroom on the floor below, their muffled banter bouncing like fine-tuned acoustics. Isis was with Xenia; he’d seen her sound asleep in her portable playpen with a multitude of colorful stuffed animals and a soft, pink blanket draped over her little body. But as he started to move, Xenia rose and looked right at him, her eyes glossy, no doubt sharing in her friend’s pain.

Shit...

“Oh, Saint...I didn’t hear you come in. You’re home early.” She sniffed and blew her nose.

Saint closed his eyes, lightly sighed, and immediately locked eyes with Stacey. She had a balled up tissue in her hand and her dark brown skin was moistened with freshly fallen trails of tears.

“Uh, yeah, I left a little early today,” he said quietly.

To be with my family...I missed you all...

“I’ll leave, okay?” He gave a faint wave to Stacey, but she didn’t return it. Instead, she simply stared at him, as if, she wanted something,
needed
something.

“Actually, Saint,” Xenia ran her fingers through her thick curls that were pinned up on the side with a sparkling white and diamond peacock shaped hairpin. Visibly nervous, she then ran her hands along her pleated pin striped gray slacks as she gradually glided toward him. She crossed her arms as if she were chilly, looked back over her shoulder and tilted her head, scratching her scalp as she fell into thoughts, ones he wasn’t ready to read. He knew he’d find out soon enough. “I wondered if you could speak to Stacey?”

He looked at Xenia for a while, then back at Stacey, her glare still upon him. The woman wiped another tear away, but kept her gaze on him, as if trying to extract some much-needed restorative.

“Stacey,” Saint quietly said as he closed the gap between him and his wife. He placed a delicate kiss on Xenia’s lips and ran his hand up and down her back, feeling the thin fabric of her white on white sheer polka dot shirt. Her hair smelled of cypress and jasmine, and he inhaled it as he buried his chin atop her head, gathering her into his embrace. “If you want to talk to me, I’d be happy to speak to you. Just uh, let me go to the restroom and wash my hands, freshen up a bit and I’ll be back down, is that okay?” he asked, ensuring his tone was even and pleasant.

Stacey gave a faint nod and reached up to hook her straight hair behind her ears.

Saint wasted no time in leaving the room. His body itched with anxiety. His plans had been foiled. As he drove home, he envisioned a delightful quickie with Xenia, then dinner around the dining room table to catch up on each other’s day. They would then watch a family movie of the boys’ choice, and finally retire to the master suite with his Sweetness to get seconds and thirds of the feast between her thighs.

Damn it. Well, shit happens. I know this has something to do with that son-of-a-bitch fiancé of hers...

He raced to his master suite bathroom and splashed cold water on himself, glancing at his reflection occasionally as he tried to regain his composure. It wasn’t only the disappointment that shook him, it was the raw emotions. Something about female broken hearts did him in, especially when it was contagious, like right now. The heartache filled his house like a rotting tooth with a gaping cavity, drawing pain from the victim with passing cool air and any attempt to chew the sweet things life had to offer. Xenia had a way of being empathic toward others. It didn’t matter if it was someone she’d known for years or a stranger in need, her giving heart made her susceptible, but that was just one of many reasons why he loved her so much. Saint dried his face and hands with the plush, ivory hand towel that hung on the silver hook and headed back down the stairwell, his footsteps echoing. He was refreshed and ready.

He entered the heavy space once again. Xenia gathered Isis in her arms after shooting him a look. A bright green bow in her black hair, the baby blinked a few times as she was roused to alertness. Saint grinned and opened his arms as he walked toward the two, immediately taking Isis into his arms, cradling her close. The baby coo’ed and babbled, laughed and giggled as he lifted up her green and white striped shirt and blew on her rounded stomach. He caught Stacey’s glance from the corner of his eye. Without looking directly at the distraught woman, he kissed Isis’ cheek and handed her back to her mother, then leisurely ran his hand down Xenia’s back.

“What’s this about? Man problems I presume?” he whispered in his wife’s ear.

Xenia quickly nodded, their eyes meeting, her distress evident in her expression. Xenia disappeared out of the living room, her silver earrings dangling as she took each carefully orchestrated step around the toy obstacle course toward and behind a wall partition. He heard her open the lower level door that led to the playroom door. The sound of videogames and a burst of laughter came forth as the boys’ voices once again came through in stereo, now louder than ever, claiming victory before the game was actually won. He heard the door close softly behind her, and soon, the large living room was quiet again, the only sound was the faint ticking of the grandiose grandfather clock. Saint stood there for a moment, looking down at his shoes, his hands in his pockets.

He waited, trying to give the woman a moment to gather herself, to explain what her heart still hadn’t accepted.  The woman had never come to him for advice before. And though he never uttered his concerns, he had a slight disdain for her fiancé. The man seemed aloof, often cutting off direct eye contact in conversation, sneaky and covert. He seemed like an overgrown child, and it rubbed Saint the wrong damn way. Stacey looked at him full on then shifted her gaze down to the large, camel colored plush rug bunched ever so slightly under her bare feet. She nervously flexed her red painted toes and gripped a pillow in her hands, as if it offered comfort and support. She appeared like a solitary rain drop, blending into the couch—depression and sadness all around her, soaked to the bone in despair. He sighed as he slowly approached her then cleared his throat, prepping himself for the discussion. After a few moments, he looked straight ahead then turned toward her, his face tilted slightly downward.

“Stacey, Xenia said you wanted to speak to me. I believe this has to do with Jared, correct?”

Stacey took her time to lift her eyes back to him. She blew her nose loudly and nodded, then tossed the pillow aside and clutched her dark brown leather purse to her chest.

“He um...,” her voice cracked as she tried to keep her equanimity, “he said he didn’t want to get married right now. He called off the wedding and said we should just chill, you know, still be together but not rush to get married.”

Saint sighed and gently tapped her shoulder, ran his fingertips briefly along it before folding his hands together as he contemplated. He felt right in his element. He enjoyed conducting therapy sessions, and he’d heard similar stories from clients of unrequited love, a relationship falling apart at the seams, unequal partnerships and situations like this where the rug was pulled right from underneath the poor soul. All that was left was a seesaw of unending emotions, leaving one or both parties in midair, confused and frightened.

“Stacey, before I get into any opinions, theories, and all of that, I want you to tell me a few things. Do you mind if I ask you some personal questions regarding this?”

“No, go right ahead,” she answered, her voice shaking ever so slightly.

“How long had you known Jared before you two had your daughter?”

“Um, I’ve known him actually for quite a while but we never got together, we were just work associates.”

“I see, so how did it progress?” Saint crossed his legs and continued to listen.

“After a couple of years we began dating. Then, I got pregnant like five months after that...yeah, it was five months.” He watched her calculate the information in her head, doing her checks and balances.

“Prior to the pregnancy, had you and Jared discussed marriage? Children?”

“Yes, he actually brought it up.” Stacey rubbed her usually bright eyes, now tinged with pink and glistening with tears. “He was the one, Saint, who told me he had always been interested in me. Didn’t think I saw him the same way though.”

And then he got his chance, and the hunt commenced...

“He told me he wanted to get married and have kids. I...I thought he was the one.” She looked back down at her lap. A tear cascaded down her face and landed on her knee, darkening her pants. Saint gently rubbed her back with one hand. He closed his eyes and rubbed between his eyes with the other, as if he felt a headache coming on. In actuality, he was reading her through her spinal cord—trying to feel her chakras, her vibration.

“Okay,” he finally said, clasping his hands together, “I am going to give you a scenario, and I want you to tell me if this sounds like Jared. Is that cool?”

Stacey looked up at him and nodded.

“Okay, he came after you, full steam ahead. The man was wanted by other women, but he was kind of a shy guy, or appeared to be—kept to himself. He is considered attractive and successful. Jared, is…what? Thirty-six, thirty-seven?”

“Yes, he is thirty-seven.”

“Okay, so in any case, you all had your careers in common.” Saint counted off his fingers. “You both seemed to want to settle down, to have a committed, monogamous relationship. Then, a surprise happened. After five months of courtship, a pregnancy occurred. I understand it wasn’t planned?”

“No, but he seemed happy after I told him.”

Saint nodded as he continued to work the scenario in his mind.

“Yet, during the pregnancy, the further and further you got along, month after month, he was less receptive, right? He had an excuse for not going to some of the appointments he’d agreed to join you on.”

Stacey nodded in agreement.

“After the baby was born, however, he was there. He was full of excitement then after a while, as the baby got older, he pulled his energy back again.” Saint moved his fist toward his stomach, demonstrating a withdraw. “Wedding plans were underway, mmm, probably right before you went into labor, give or take, but around that timeframe, and you’ve been busting your ass trying to get it all sorted out while working full-time, having a little toddler and trying to take care of your responsibilities, right?”

“Yes, he did propose while I was in the hospital.”

“Jared is helping at home as far as bringing in money—but that’s
all
he is doing. You began to worry. Something inside of you told you the relationship was in jeopardy and now that you have this little girl together, you worked even faster to get the wedding plans underway. The more you asked his opinions regarding the wedding details, the more he acted despondent until finally, we are
here,
where we are right now at this moment. He has told you he just wants to continue to live together, but not get married, as you’ve already told me, but everything else…do I have everything right so far?”

Stacey looked at him with her mouth agape. Soon, her fingers covered her trembling lips as she stared at Saint in disbelief.

“Did Xenia tell you this?” she finally blurted, her brows dipping.