Читать книгу Idlewild - Treasure Hernandez - Страница 8

Chapter 4

Memories

Desiree’s stomach clenched, and she immediately felt like her modest Honda Accord was out of place on the long winding driveway of her parents’ Idlewild summer home. The four luxury cars parked along the stone driveway were so much bigger and more expensive than hers, and this made Desiree feel like a pizza delivery person pulling up for a five-minute drop-off.

“Whoa,” Tyree exclaimed as they approached the Johnson summer home. “How come this is my first time coming here?” he asked, his eyes stretched wide and his mouth agape. “You’ve been holding out big-time, Mom. Like, big big-time.”

Desiree swallowed hard. “You know I don’t do these family gatherings,” she groaned. “If I don’t come, you don’t come. And none of this is mine, so I haven’t been holding out on anything.”

“I do know you don’t do family gatherings, but I’m still trying to figure out why,” Tyree responded as he continued to scan his surroundings. “With a dope house like this, I’d gather with my family every day! This right here is baller, for real,” he went on, ogling the house and the grounds.

“Boy, just make sure you’re on your best behavior. It’s one week . . . Let’s make it through. Don’t do a lot of talking, so I don’t have to do a lot of explaining. Got it?” Desiree said, twisting her neck to tamp down her nerves.

“There’s a whole lot of stuff you ain’t telling me,” Tyree grumbled under his breath.

Desiree didn’t respond. She knew he had used the word ain’t to get under her skin, and her skin was already crawling bad enough as it was.

They got out of the car almost at the same time. Before Desiree could fully stretch, Rebecca came barreling toward her, with a huge smile on her face.

Desiree’s heart lurched in her chest, and tears immediately sprang to her eyes. The one person she had missed the most all these years was Rebecca.

“Oh my Lord,” Rebecca sang, her arms stretched out in front of her. “I cannot believe my eyes,” she said, her voice cracking. Rebecca pulled Desiree into her and squeezed her so tight, Desiree had no choice but to return the embrace.

Rebecca had been a part of the Johnson family since before Desiree was born. She had served as everything to the family. She had been the nanny, but she had also kept house, kept Carolyn straight, and assisted Ernest in some things as well. Once the kids had become teenagers, Rebecca had taken on the task of making sure Carolyn’s household chores never piled up, especially the cooking. As wealthy as Ernest was, he had never liked to eat out. He preferred Rebecca’s home cooking over a fancy restaurant any day. Rebecca still kept things in the house flowing smoothly. She was just a part of their family, period. And she loved Desiree like Desiree was her own child, and in turn Desiree had confided in Rebecca more than she had her own mother.

“Rebecca,” Desiree whispered, finally letting her tears fall. “I’ve missed you so much,” she gasped, almost choking on her words. “So much.”

Rebecca’s body quaked with sobs. Neither of them had been prepared for the rush of emotions that took over them like a tidal wave. As they stood there, seemingly stuck in one another’s embrace, memories flooded them both.

Back then, Desiree had almost jumped out of her skin when the soft knocks reverberated through her bedroom door.

“It’s me, Desi,” Rebecca had whispered.

Desiree had yanked open the door, her heart slamming against her chest wall.

“Did my mother see you leave the house?” Desiree had asked nervously as her stomach did flip-flops.

“No, Desi, I don’t think that she did. And now she’s gone, I believe, to a hair appointment or something like that. But you know she’ll be back soon, and the first place she is coming is right to this room,” Rebecca answered, her eyebrows furrowed with worry. She had been doing nothing but worrying since Desiree had taken to hiding out in her room. But now this . . .

“Okay. Did you get it?” Desiree asked, then bit her bottom lip. She was squirming like she had to urinate really badly.

“Yes, I did,” Rebecca answered, digging into her pocketbook. “And I didn’t like it one bit. Imagine me buying this stuff at my age . . . the stares I got in that store. This is just too much, Desi. Too much,” she complained as she pulled a small plastic bag from her pocketbook and extended it toward Desiree. Desiree’s hands trembled as she snatched the bag and looked at Rebecca through glassy eyes.

“Oh my God, Rebecca. I can never repay you for this,” Desiree said, her voice cracking.

Rebecca twisted her lips and scrunched her eyebrows. It was an expression that was all too familiar to Desiree. She’d seen it over the years: anytime she’d done something Rebecca didn’t agree with, that had been the facial expression she got. Rebecca wasn’t much on using words to admonish, but her body language, most of the time, said it all.

“Please. Not that face. Not now. Not you,” Desiree grumbled, wrapping her arms around herself. “I’m going through enough. And I don’t need you, of all people, to judge me, Rebecca. Please . . . not right now, of all the times in my life,” Desiree said, tearing up.

Rebecca softened her expression and touched Desiree’s hand gently. She hated to see Desiree cry. Rebecca still thought of Desiree as her little girl. She had basically raised Desiree and all the Johnson children.

“I’m not one to judge you, you know that. God is the only one who can judge you. But if this is so, you can’t hide it. I won’t help you hide it,” Rebecca said softly. “I’ll be here for you, no matter what, but I want you to think about this long and hard. You are not married. You’re a little girl, and you have so much living to do, Desi.”

“It was a mistake. I know everyone will hate me, but I’m not perfect. It was a big mistake,” Desiree sobbed, lowering her eyes. She hated it when Rebecca was disappointed in her. When she was a child, the idea of letting Rebecca down was the one thing that could be used to punish Desiree.

“Oh, Desi, I don’t mean to be hard, but you know right from wrong. You are better than this. I taught you better than this,” Rebecca said sternly, but with the hint of softness only she knew how to master. Desiree looked down at the floor. Rebecca grabbed her into a tight embrace, her ample bosom providing a cushion. She squeezed Desiree close. “I will always love you, no matter how many mistakes you make,” Rebecca whispered in her ear.

Desiree let out more loud sobs. “I hope it comes back negative,” she whimpered into the material of Rebecca’s shirt.

“For the good of everyone involved, I hope it does too,” Rebecca said with feeling.

Desiree was scared to face Rebecca when the scandal broke, but Rebecca was the only person she could trust with her true feelings. Rebecca told Desiree the truth about how she felt about her pregnancy, but right after that, Rebecca hugged her tight and told her it would be all right.

“Ahem.” The sound of Tyree clearing his throat jolted them out of their reveries.

“Oh my goodness,” Rebecca exclaimed, finally letting Desiree out of her grip. “I’m sorry. I just . . . I didn’t know how much I’ve missed you.”

Desiree giggled awkwardly, trying to squelch her sobs. “I know, right? I missed you so much . . . and the food . . . oh goodness, the food,” Desiree joked, trying to break the heartbreak and tension of the moment.

“Don’t worry. I’ll feed you well,” Rebecca assured her, wiping her own tears away too.

“Ahem.” Tyree cleared his throat again, his foot tapping the ground.

Desiree and Rebecca both turned their attention to him this time. Rebecca’s eyes welled up again.

“This baby has grown up so nicely,” she sang, rushing toward him. She pulled him to her. “Goodness, the last time I saw you, you were knee high to a fly,” she joked.

Tyree smiled awkwardly, crushed by her tight hug. He didn’t remember Rebecca; that was how small he had been the last time Desiree took him home.

“He’s a tall beanpole now,” Desiree said, smiling proudly at her two favorite people in the world. She wished they had been together all the time. Rebecca would’ve been great at helping her raise and take care of Tyree. Desiree was sure of it. Rebecca would have been the best grandnanny in the world. The thought tickled Desiree somewhere close to her heart.

Rebecca let Tyree go and grabbed Desiree’s hand. “You need to come inside, get settled, and go see him,” she said, lowering her voice.

“How’s he doing?” Desiree asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Well, I won’t say. I’ll let you go see him,” Rebecca said, hanging her head slightly. Desiree’s stomach lurched.

“That bad, huh?” she replied.

* * *

Desiree paused at her father’s bedroom door. She looked down the long hallway and realized she was really alone. She hadn’t been alone with her father in years. Her neck tensed, and she clenched her teeth so hard, pain shot up to her temples. Desiree blew out a windstorm of breath and opened the door. Her eyes went wide and she sucked in her breath at the sight of her father lying in a hospital bed, connected to what seemed like a million wires. The blips and beeps of the fifteen machines sounded uncomfortably loud to Desiree. She couldn’t stop the tears from pouring out of her eyes and down her face.

“Oh, Daddy,” she whimpered, slowly moving to his bedside. “I’m so sorry.”

Finally, she was close enough to touch him. She reached down and picked up his limp, wrinkled hand. Desiree hiccupped a sob and her shoulders fell forward as she took in the sight of the man who had always been her first love.

“Daddy,” she sobbed out, slowly pronouncing each syllable.

His gaunt body seemed swallowed up by the bed, and he looked as if he’d aged two hundred years since she’d last seen him. His head was covered with fine gray peach fuzz, and his cheekbones jutted against his paper-thin skin unnaturally. He was nothing like the tall, barrel-chested, regal man who was Ernest Johnson, her father, her hero, and sometimes her worst nightmare.

“I’m so sorry, Daddy. I never wanted to disappoint you,” Desiree cried, pulling her father’s hand up to her face. Then she knelt at his bedside, put her head down at his side, and closed her eyes. She couldn’t stop the memories, both good and bad, from revisiting her again.

Fifteen-year-old Desiree had lain curled up in the fetal position inside her bedroom at the Idlewild summer home for over a day. She’d been there since the devastating meeting took place between her parents and Tyson Blackwell’s parents the day before. Unable to stop reliving the worst moment of her life over and over again, Desiree had drawn all the curtains, locked her door, and buried herself under a pile of quilts, even though it was ninety degrees outside. She kept replaying his words, their words, everyone’s words as they spoke about her like she was some street whore who had sought to trap Tyson. Tyson had warned her, but she had never thought they’d treat her like that, especially her own father.

Since she had revealed that she was pregnant, her mother had tried to be supportive, but her father hadn’t said two words to her. Desiree had been his little girl, innocent in all rights, before this. She couldn’t even imagine what her father must think of her now. The thought made Desiree cry even harder as she lay on her bed. She was literally sick to her stomach over this.

Carolyn and Desiree had sat together that first night, as Desiree had cried her eyes out over how stupid she’d been to think it was all going to work out with Tyson. She had believed him when he said he wanted to be with her no matter what. Desiree hadn’t ever thought about pregnancy, their family names, and Tyson’s future or her own while she was wrapped up in their teenage love. She had been young, dumb, and in love for the first time. Desiree had become the talk of Idlewild, and she knew it.

As she lay on her bed, she realized that it wouldn’t be long before the news traveled home to Chicago, where her family would head once the summer ended and everyone closed up their Idlewild hideaways and went back to their high-priced stone mansions on the edge of Lake Michigan. The thought of what people in Chicago would say about her caused Desiree to shudder and gag. Loose girl, slut, unworthy were only some of the monikers Desiree imagined people would call her after her pregnancy was revealed.

She had ignored a bunch of calls from friends and family members who had heard about everything through the Idlewild grapevine. Desiree had ignored every single call. Especially since not one call had come from Tyson himself. After Mrs. Blackwell had all but called Desiree a future-ruining slut, Tyson had locked eyes with Desiree and mouthed that he was sorry, but Desiree didn’t believe him. She had seen the look on his face when his mother had called her a slut. His eyes had gotten glassy, and his mouth had turned downward. But still, he hadn’t spoken up. In that moment he had reminded Desiree of a scared little boy, not the man he’d always promised her he would be.

And Desiree had noticed the pain and conflict in his eyes. She’d gotten a funny feeling that maybe this wasn’t the first time Tyson had done something like this. Desiree was devastated by the thought that she was nothing more than another one of his conquests. She had known all along that she was playing with fire by messing with a gorgeous and popular guy like Tyson, but the attraction she had felt for him was so magnetic that she’d lost sight of the consequences. Now, safely ensconced in her bedroom, she tried to erase all thoughts of Tyson, but it was useless. It was all too much to deal with. She wanted to bury her head and never come back out, but then something suddenly got her attention.

A knock on her bedroom door drew Desiree up off her bed. She padded over to the door, barely wanting to pick up her feet. Her usually vibrant face was drained of color. Her always perfectly coiffed hair had turned into a tangled bird’s nest atop her head, her eyes were red from crying, and she could surely use a shower. Wrapped in a soft pink chenille robe, she swallowed hard and exhaled as she put her face close to the door.

“Who is it?” Desiree called out from behind the locked door. She was silently praying it wasn’t her mother again.

Carolyn had been driving Desiree crazy with her efforts to cheer her up and get her out of bed. Carolyn had even offered her a day at the spa, car shopping, and shoe shopping, which Carolyn knew were some of Desiree’s favorite pastimes. Desiree had refused all her mother’s offers. She couldn’t imagine going out in public right now. The thought made her cringe and feel nauseous. There was no way Desiree could deal with her mother right now.

“It’s me, Rebecca,” a soft, melodic voice whispered in return. Desiree could tell from the muffled sound of her voice that Rebecca had her face up against the door.

Desiree’s shoulders slumped with relief. She was glad it wasn’t her mother, for a change. She unlocked the door and twisted the doorknob. She opened the door a crack and looked out in the hallway suspiciously. Then Desiree grabbed Rebecca’s arm and pulled her through the doorway and closed the door again. Desiree locked the door behind them. Though she was nervous as hell, she was glad to see Rebecca.

“Thanks for not bringing my mother with you, Rebecca,” Desiree said, on the brink of tears for the fifth time that day.

Rebecca’s eyes were wide with fear, like she’d committed a crime. She swiped sweat from her forehead and let out a long, pained sigh. Rebecca had prayed all the way to Desiree’s room. Desiree could tell something was off. One thing Rebecca was not was a good liar.

“I need to tell you something, Desi,” Rebecca said. “First, let me just say, they love you . . . no matter what they’re feeling right now.” She wiped at invisible sweat again. “I’m sure they just want what is best for you, Desi. I’m sure,” she added, fanning at her face.

“Just say whatever else you have to say,” Desiree snapped, feeling as if she might throw up.

“They . . . they want you to go to your mother’s private doctor and take care of it,” Rebecca said, shame making her cheeks flame.

“No,” Desiree rasped, feeling as if the word had lit her mouth on fire as she uttered it.

“Listen, Desi—” Rebecca began, putting her hands up in front of her, but Desiree cut her off.

“No!” she barked. “It’s my body and my baby! I won’t do it!” Desiree brushed past Rebecca, stormed out of her room, and stalked toward her parents’ suite. Rebecca was hot on her heels, but she couldn’t catch up, because Desiree was moving so fast.

Carolyn jumped and turned on the balls of her feet when Desiree barged into her bedroom suite. Ernest looked over his wife’s shoulder at his daughter.

“I’m not getting an abortion,” Desiree blurted, and she immediately felt like a weight had been lifted from her chest. She would never be able to live with herself if she didn’t at least get that off her chest. Desiree believed the life of her baby was sacred. She believed that the baby deserved to live, and whatever she had to endure, alone or not, she would endure.

Carolyn shook her head and looked at Rebecca for help. Rebecca shrugged; she had never believed in abortions herself. She had suffered the loss of her only child before she started working for the Johnsons. Rebecca had also seen the psychological pain Carolyn had suffered when she miscarried at least four times between the births of her three children.

Ernest stepped forward. “You think you can have a baby out of wedlock with a boy who doesn’t want anything to do with you?” he asked in the serious, businesslike, unloving way he sometimes spoke to his children.

Desiree swallowed hard and swayed on her feet when she registered the disgust in her father’s tone.

“No one wants to see you in pain and hurt. And the child . . . What type of life would the child have with no father?” Carolyn said, continuing where her husband had left off, not caring to choose her words wisely.

“You can’t stay here with a baby out of wedlock, and that’s final,” Ernest said sternly and dismissively all at the same time. “We have the family name to consider, and we’ve worked hard to maintain it. This is not what we do.”

“So, you’d throw me on the street?” Desiree asked indignantly, scared to death of her father’s response.

“Why can’t we all sleep on this and talk about it tomorrow?” Rebecca interjected, as if this was her last chance to keep the peace.

“There will be no more discussion about this after today. Either she does what we have asked or she leaves. Period,” her father said without blinking or flinching.

Carolyn gasped and looked between her husband and her daughter, pain evident on everyone’s faces.

Desiree felt her chest swelling and heat rising to her face. Her cheeks flamed red as she bit her bottom lip, drawing her own blood, before she spoke.

“You have made your choice! That’s how it is?” she muttered. She put her hands on her face, in mock surprise. “Oh, no, not the precious Johnson name. There is no way I can have this baby and bring shame to my family, right?” she mocked through her tears. Then her tone turned serious, and she narrowed her eyes into slits. “I guess what people think is more important than me and what I want. I get it!”

Her father didn’t budge, his arms folded across his chest and his face stoic. Her mother sobbed but didn’t take up for her.

“My mother won’t even stand up for me,” Desiree growled through clenched teeth as she gave Carolyn an evil look. Then she turned toward Rebecca. “I guess you’re the only person who truly cares about me!” Desiree screamed.

Rebecca shook her head from side to side helplessly.

“Well, then, you’re the only one I’ll ever care about from this day forward too,” Desiree said with finality. She just wanted the day to be over. She wanted to get away from around her father’s judgmental words and disproving eyes. “I guess this is good-bye,” she said to her mother.

Carolyn grunted and began mouthing a silent prayer. That was it! Desiree couldn’t hold back anymore when it came to her mother’s hypocrisy. There was but so much she could take.

“Oh my God, Mother! Praying now! You, of all people. You can’t be serious! First, you were trying to convince me to kill my baby, and now you’re praying for me! I don’t need all your Jesus talk! I thought you would understand and be supportive!” Desiree barked, on the verge of tears again.

Her emotions had been all over the place lately. No one could imagine how she felt being pregnant by a boy who had been a family friend for years, on top of the entire world knowing about it. Desiree was annoyed that her mother was giving her such a guilt trip after promising her that she’d be supportive. Desiree didn’t believe in abortion. And although she knew that she had her entire future ahead of her, and having a child under these circumstances was just not how she had pictured her life ending up, she had to protect her baby. Deep down inside, Desiree knew that her parents would probably accept the child eventually, but Desiree wanted her first child to be the joy of her parents’ life . . . not a shameful embarrassment. Desiree’s mind raced with all these things.

Rebecca fell silent after Desiree’s outburst. She knew all too well how tenacious Desiree could be when she was upset. She followed Desiree back to her bedroom.

“Desi, this will blow over. I promise,” Rebecca said, trying to comfort Desiree.

But she was wrong. The next morning, Rebecca was the one to break the news that Ernest and Carolyn had arranged for her to take Desiree away. They didn’t even come to see her off.

An eerie silence enveloped the interior of the luxury car as it whizzed down the highway, probably going well over the speed limit. Even the sparkling afternoon sun couldn’t change the dreary, almost funeral-like mood that hung over the car. Rebecca cleared her throat, breaking the heavy awkwardness that surrounded her and Desiree. Desiree put her hand up to silence Rebecca before she could start. It was all she could do to keep herself from screaming, crying, yelling and, worse, jumping out of the moving car in protest. Desiree shot Rebecca a glance out of the side of her eye and gripped the door handle tighter, so tight her knuckles paled.

Please don’t let her start up again. I really don’t feel up to this. Why is she staring at the side of my face like she wants to say something? Please just keep your mouth shut, Rebecca. I’m not in the mood, Desiree thought. She was having a hard enough time coping with the situation.

Desiree had thought Rebecca, of all people, wouldn’t judge her and would just give her the support she needed at a time like this. Desiree could feel the heat of Rebecca’s gaze on her even more intensely. She just wanted the driver to pull the car over and let her push Rebecca right out the door on the side of the damn road. Desiree kept her eyes forward and flexed her jaw in anticipation. Rebecca looked at the side of Desiree’s face one more time before she finally mustered up the courage to speak. Desiree braced herself.

“Desiree, your father is a man of very few words, you know that, right? I mean, maybe you can forgive him one day. Find it in your heart to understand him as a parent. I don’t know . . . something . . . ,” Rebecca said. “I . . . I just want everything to be normal again. I just wish this had never happened.” Rebecca squeezed a tissue in her hand. There. She’d finally said what she had been thinking for the past week.

Desiree remained silent.

Rebecca let out an exasperated breath. “You hear me talking?” she asked softly, being careful not to nag. She could feel the heat of Desiree’s gaze fall on the side of her face. Rebecca knew she was stepping on sensitive ground with Desiree.

“I’ll never speak to him again. He threw me away like trash, and I’ll never speak to him again. I don’t care if he’s on his deathbed. Don’t call me,” Desiree said with feeling.

The thought of her father’s deathbed snapped Desiree out of her thoughts. She jumped at someone’s touch. The memories of the past quickly faded as she looked over at her mother now.

“Hey, baby girl,” Carolyn whispered, rubbing her hand up and down Desiree’s back.

“Mother, why didn’t you call me home sooner?” Desiree croaked, her red-rimmed eyes barely able to focus on her mother’s face.

“For a while he didn’t want anyone to know. He was dealing with a lot,” Carolyn said, lowering her eyes to the floor.

“But I would’ve come sooner. I feel like it’s . . . it’s . . .” Desiree’s words trailed off, and she sucked in her sobs.

Her mother pulled her into a tight embrace. “Shh. He’s going to make it through this. He’s the strongest man we know,” Carolyn said, doing what she did best—pretend.