One of a Kind, page 21
“Nothing more for me. Thanks.” She said pushing away her plate.
“Are you sure? We can share a piece...”
“Don’t tempt me. No really, I’ve had enough.” She smiled at him.
“Okay.” He took it upon himself to order coffee for them both.
Anthia was not ready to end their discussion on his father. She waited until they were in the car, when she said, “If the opportunity presents itself, will you talk to your father? Tell him about the new life you’ve made for yourself in Detroit?” She still couldn’t imagine a parent totally indifferent to his own flesh and blood.
It was dark as the car sped through the warm night. Dexter was quiet, seemingly lost in thought.
She said softly, “You have no idea how often I wish I still had my mother. Promise me that given the chance, you’ll at least try to resolve you’re differences with your father.”
“We’ll see,” was all he was willing to concede.
“Hi, you two. Have fun?” Stephanie asked as she entered the foyer where Dexter was helping Anthia off with her denim jacket.
“Yes,” Dexter smiled, returning Stephanie’s hug and kiss. “How about you?”
“Busy. There is no end to the last minute things that have to be done.”
Anthia also received a hug. “Getting nervous?”
Stephanie laughed, “A little jittery, with the rehearsal dinner tonight and parties afterward. In fact, I was on my way up to change. I know I won’t get any sleep tonight and I want to look my best tomorrow.”
“Stop worrying,” Dexter encouraged squeezing her hand. “You’re going to be a beautiful bride.”
Stephanie laughed happily. “I’m so glad you’re here. I know how difficult it must be for you staying at the house. Dex, it has meant the world to me having you here for my wedding,” she said wiping at a tear. With that said, she added in a conspiratorial whisper, “What do you think of my Kenneth? Isn’t he wonderful?”
Dexter chuckled. “I won’t say all that. Yes, he seems like a nice guy. As long as he treats you well, he and I won’t have a problem.”
“Remember, the bachelor party is after the dinner. Kenneth and his best man are scheduled to pick you up around ten. You’re still going, aren’t you?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.” Dexter hid his reluctance behind a smile. If his attending would make his sister happy, then he would be there. She was the best.
“Good. Anthia, my bridesmaids and I will pick you up around the same time. Don’t worry, we won’t be out too late.”
“Sounds good.”
“Everything is all set,” Stephanie said cheerfully, heading for the stairs. She was halfway up when she paused, saying, “Oh, Dex. Daddy’s in the study. He asked if you would stop in before you left for the party. See you two later.” With that she hurried on ahead.
Dexter’s entire demeanor changed in an instant. His easygoing manner had disappeared. Anthia did not try to conceal her concern. “Dex?” She touched his sleeve.
“Huh?”
“Say something.”
“There’s nothing to say. I’m not interested in what he has to say.”
“Just listen. It can’t hurt to listen to what he has to say.”
“Okay,” he muttered, “I want you to come with me.”
“But why?”
“There is nothing he has to say that can’t be said in front of you.” When she was slow to answer, he prompted, “Well?”
“Yes, if that’s the way you want it.”
“Thank you.” He brushed his lips against hers before he took her hand in his. “Let’s get this over with.”
Damon Washington’s office was situated at the end of the main hallway on the left. Dexter’s knock was quickly answered with a gruff, “Come in.”
Dexter urged her ahead of him into the plush masculine domain. The walls were paneled in dark cherry wood, the carpet was a rich mahogany. Oversize leather chairs were positioned in front of a massive dark oak desk. The walls were lined with plaques and honors for the highly successful family-owned architectural firm.
Damon Washington sat behind his desk with an open folder in front of him. “Good evening, Ms. Jenkins, Dexter. Please make yourselves comfortable.” If he was surprised that Anthia accompanied his son, he didn’t show it.
Although, Damon was a good head shorter than his son and a good fifty to sixty pounds heavier, it was easy to see where Dexter had inherited his keen African features and deep bronze complexion. Dexter’s father was a well dressed, educated, charismatic black man, used to giving orders and having them quickly obeyed.
“Are you enjoying your stay with us, Ms. Jenkins?”
“Anthia,” she smiled. “Yes, I am. You have a very lovely home, Mr. Washington.”
“Is this your first trip to Texas?”
“Yes, Dexter has been showing me around.”
“Wonderful. Wonderful,” he said cordially. “You don’t mind excusing us. I need to speak privately with Dexter. This won’t take long.”
Up until then Dexter had made no effort to make himself comfortable. He stood beside her chair, with his hand on one of her slender shoulders, thus keeping her seated. “That won’t be necessary. Anthia stays. Say whatever you like.”
Judging by his frown, Damon Washington did not approve of the arrangement, but he made no further objections. Apparently airing their family difficulties in front of guests was not to his liking.
He came straight to the point when he said, “Dexter, you have not been active in the company for some time.” His voice lacked warmth and affection for the son he had not seen in years.
“It’s a little hard considering the five-year vacation I was given courtesy of the State of Texas. Afterward, my services were no longer desired,” Dexter said dryly.
“Neither one of us need reminding of how you failed yourself and your family.”
Anthia managed to hold down the gasp rising in her throat. There could be no doubt of the man’s disdain for his only child. It was in the cold emotionless way he looked at Dexter. He obviously preferred to believe the worse in Dexter, believing that he deliberately killed his own wife and child. Anthia’s body went rigid, horrified by his father’s lack of love or faith in him.
“Incarcerated,” Dexter clarified.
“There is no need to be so blunt.”
“There is no need to sugarcoat it. Anthia knows the truth.”
“She knows you’re a...”
“Killer?” Dexter supplied. “Is that the word you mean, sir?” His broad shoulders were straight and his head was held high, yet his hands were balled into fists at his side, the only indication of his emotions.
The two men stood staring each other down. Neither willing to give an inch. Anthia was disgusted. How could the man have so little faith in his own flesh and blood? He did not know the sincere, genuinely kind man he had fathered.
There should be no way on earth that he could not believe in his own. No way!
Unable to remain silent a second longer, Anthia’s voice revealed a calm she was far from feeling when she said evenly, “Christine’s death was a tragic accident. It’s time you accepted that. Blaming each other won’t change what happened.” She could not stand the way Dexter’s father was deliberately hurting him. “Dexter could not have killed his wife. He’s not that type of man. You above all people should know the kind of child you raised to manhood. We are talking about your son.”
Dexter squeezed her shoulder, in an attempt to soothe her. He knew what a disappointment he was to his father. His father was well educated, but a self-made man. Dexter was supposed to be as an extension of Damon. What Dexter had done was to make a mockery of their family name. His involvement with the law had brought shame and dishonor down on all of them. That was what his father could not forget or forgive.
Dexter stated bitterly, “I stopped being his son the day I was arrested for murder. He was the first to judge me and find me guilty, long before the case came to trial.”
“Look, I didn’t ask you here to dig up the past. You and this young lady are guests in my home.”
“Very reluctant guests. As you well know, the only reason I’m here is for Stephanie’s sake. Her wedding will be perfect, regardless of how little we think of each other,” Dexter ended coldly. Dexter considered Damon Washington a failure as a father as Damon considered Dexter a failure as a son.
Anthia persisted, “Will you two listen to yourselves? You’re father and son... blood. That has to mean something? You’re part of each other.”
“You’re wasting your time, Ms. Jenkins. Dexter and I haven’t gotten along since his mother died.”
“Ain’t that the truth! I was a little upset when you left us to build a financial empire for yourself. You never looked back to the woman who loved you or the child that you fathered.”
“I took you in when she died and I saw to it that you were well educated. You are the one who messed up your own damn life. I no longer have a son. He died for me the day he destroyed his life and our family’s good name.” To Damon’s acute disappointment he had been unable to father another child with Marion.
Dexter had had enough. He said, “This entire conversation is pointless. Why did you want to speak with me?”
“It’s time you resigned your vice presidency in the company and sold your stocks.”
A muscle jumped in his jaw, but Dexter’s voice was even when he asked, “Why? I’ve been a partner and stockholder since I earned my degree and joined the company. At one time, it was what we both wanted.”
“You haven’t worked for the company in over thirteen years. You partnership is on paper only. I see no point in it continuing.”
“Why the sudden need to make a change?” Dexter asked carefully as if he were holding on to his temper by a slender thread.
“Kenneth is an excellent architect. He deserves to be able to move up in the company. I want him to take over your position. As Stephanie’s husband, he has the right.”
“What if Dexter decides to return to the business?” Anthia couldn’t help asking.
His father clearly did not appreciate the question, but his manners were impeccable. “After all this time, I think that is highly unlikely.”
Dexter was amazed at how deeply his father’s continued rejection hurt, especially after all this time. It was nothing new, but to offer his rightful place to someone else was too much.
“You have no right to offer my inheritance to anyone else, not even my sister’s husband.”
“I’m offering you a fair market value for your shares of the business. A small fortune by anyone’s standards.”
“Let me get this straight. What you want is to buy me out of this family so that Kenneth can take my place as your son. You plan to turn the business over to him one day I take it?”
“The business is mine. I say who stays and who goes.” The two men openly glared at each other.
Dexter’s keen disappointment and pain were hidden behind a cold countenance. “You stopped being my father a long time ago. There is no doubt about that. You’ll probably go to your grave believing the worst of me.” Dexter’s face was marred by a scowl as he shoved his hand into his pocket. His voice was deceptively soft when he said, “There was a time when all I wanted in the world was for you to believe in me.”
His eyes bore into his father’s as he said, “Yes, I did not deliberately kill my wife and our baby. What I did was try to stop her from destroying herself and that is all I did. It was a failed attempt, true enough, but how could I have lived with myself if I had not tried?”
If he had looked at Anthia, he would have seen the tears of love that momentarily blinded her that she hastily blinked away. Dexter’s eyes were on the man he had loved and looked up to for so many wasted years. The man he could not stop loving no matter how much it hurt to do so.
“Yes, my life is different now, different from the way you wanted it to be. I’m my own man. I live my life trying to help young men without fathers. It’s something I find more fulfilling than working for profit.”
He paused, swallowing down his disappointment. How he wished that he had never returned. “We both know that it’s my choice what I decide to do about the position and the stock. At this moment, I don’t want any part of you.” He placed his hand under Anthia’s elbow and urged her up and out of the chair. “Come on, Anthia.”
They had reached the door when his father asked, “I’d like an answer.”
Dexter had nothing more to say. He urged her down the hallway. Their pace was so swift that by the time they mounted the stairs and reached her bedroom door, she was out of breath.
“Dex…”
He didn’t open his mouth until they were inside of her room. “I’m sorry you had to witness that.” He paced the confines of the room, moving to the patio doors and back again.
“I’m sorry, too.” Anthia sank down into the nearby armchair. “I hate that you had to go through that. I pushed you into it,” she sighed. “My father died when I was little so I never knew what it was to grow up with one.” She felt so badly about the false hope she had given him. She had been so sure that if Dexter could bend just a little that he and his father could reconcile their differences. She could not have been more wrong.
“With an old man like mine, I’d say you didn’t miss much. Thank God I know men who are genuine fathers to their children. Men like Charles Randol and Quinn Montgomery.”
There was a time when he wanted nothing more than to be the best father he could to his own child. Unfortunately, that had also turned out badly. He had learned to compensate for the loss. Helping fatherless boys at the center had gone a long way toward healing his own deep wounds. A child of his own was a lost dream... one he no longer consciously allowed himself to hope for.
Suddenly, last night’s slipup with the condom flashed through his mind. That kind of mistake had never happened before. He was a careful man, not that he’d been sexually active in years. Now suddenly he admitted the truth to himself.
Fatherhood was something he secretly longed for. He hadn’t considered the possibility until he met Anthia. Just the thought of a child with her sent a surge of sheer warmth through his entire system. He had to keep reminding himself that it was nothing more than wishful thinking. Thank goodness, reality had stepped in and prevented him from asking her to marry him the instant he realized what he had done.
He may not be a father, but he could still strive be a better man than Damon Washington. He could never even imagine himself hurting the woman who he claimed to love as his father had done without apparent remorse. And as far as Dexter was concerned, that kind of neglect had nothing to do with love.
Dexter considered his own father a hopeless failure when it came to parenting. That disappointment was as glaringly absent today as it had been years ago when he turned his back on Dexter during his trial. His father should have learned a long time ago that you cannot buy and sell family. Love, trust and loyalty were the things that truly matter in life.
Even after so much time, it was still difficult to accept that his own father had found another to replace him. Damon did not think Dexter was worthy of the title... son.
“Damn it!” he fumed. It should not hurt this much.
“Are you okay?” she asked, close to tears. “I’m so very sorry that I encouraged you to open yourself to what turned out to be more disappointment.”
“It’s not your fault.” He laughed but the sound fell short of the humor it was meant to convey. “I haven’t had any illusion about the man who fathered me for a very long time. I was the one who underestimated him, once more. I didn’t think he could ever hurt me again because I didn’t want anything from him. I was wrong.” He swallowed past the constriction in his throat, “I wanted his respect. I realize now that’s the only reason I’ve maintained the partnership and my stocks. It meant I was still, although limited, a part of this family. I see now that it was a wasted effort.”
“Don’t...” she was forced to clear her throat of the tears in urgent need of release. “For what it’s worth, I’m on your side.”
His dark eyes locked with hers for a timeless moment. When he spoke, his voice was a deep-throated whisper, “That means a lot to me. I’m sorry, baby, but I’m not fit to be with right now. Enjoy your evening with the girls. I’ll see you in the morning.” He was at the connecting bathroom door when he paused long enough to say, “Pack tonight if you can, so that when we leave this house before the ceremony, we don’t have to ever come back to it.” He closed the door between their rooms, not waiting for her to response.
Anthia was upset, resentful of the way Dexter had shut her out and furious with his heartless father. She suspected Dexter was experiencing a tremendous amount of pain. She was so disappointed that he felt he could not share this with her. He was one to keep his problems and his concerns to himself. He did not share himself easily with others. But she was not just anybody. She was his friend, as well as his lover. He mattered to her.
She’d been back from the bride’s party a little over an hour when she heard Dexter’s footsteps in the hall as he passed her door before continuing on to his own. He probably had as much fun as she had had tonight... which was next to none after the unpleasant conversation with his father. It had certainly put a damper on her evening.
“At least Stephanie had a wonderful time. That was something to be grateful for,” she mumbled softly to herself as she glanced yet again at the bedside clock. Not fifteen minutes had passed since she last looked.
Having showered and changed into a pale green nightgown, she found she could not sleep. If only she could turn her thoughts off. After last night, how could he isolate himself this way? Sure, he was upset, but shouldn’t they deal with this together? Why must he face all his difficulties alone? Why must he always shut her out? Couldn’t he see that that was exactly what he was doing?
It had been an exhausting weekend. She was so thankful that the wedding was the next day. Tomorrow, they could fly home.
Oh, she had learned a great deal about Dexter’s background. He had failed to mention that he had given up a successful career as an architect. Nor had he acknowledged that he had a partnership in the highly successful family-owned company.
