Never Say Never, page 13
“Well, I had a long night,” he answered harshly. But one he’d enjoyed tremendously, and he was looking forward to picking up where they’d left off the next time he saw Sabrina. He was in such a good mood, why ruin it by talking to his mother? Especially when he hadn’t even had his morning cup of coffee.
“Well, wake up,” Dinah said loudly, “because I’m here in Savannah, and I want you to come by and pick me up.”
“What!” Malcolm yelled. What is Mother doing down South? She said nothing was good this far south of the Mason-Dixie line. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to convince you to move back home with your family, among other matters.”
“What other matters?”
“All in due time, all in due time. Why don’t you pick me up for lunch first and I’ll tell you all about it.”
“Mother …,” Malcolm began.
“Don’t start, Malcolm. Meet me at Foley House within the hour.” Perturbed by his behavior, Dinah hung up the phone on him. Malcolm rubbed his chin thoughtfully, wondering what his mother’s agenda was.
Malcolm showed up within the hour to pick up his mother for lunch. They’d never had the average mother-son relationship, so he wasn’t looking forward to seeing her. Inhaling deeply, he opened the front door. Foley House was as luxurious a bed-and-breakfast as they come, not that he expected anything less. Only the best for Dinah Armstrong!
Malcolm came appropriately attired in khakis, a navy polo shirt and cream blazer so he could avoid a lecture on proper dress. “Mrs. Armstrong, please?” he asked the attendant, “Can you let her know I’m here?”
“Mrs. Armstrong advised us you’d be coming. She’s waiting in the parlor,” the female clerk said. She was giving him her best come-hither look, but Malcolm wasn’t interested. He’d tasted heaven last night and he wanted another helping.
The clerk led him to the parlor, where he found Dinah sitting on a chaise, sipping tea as she flipped through Home and Garden. “Mother.”
At the sound of his voice, Dinah whipped around. “Malcolm!” she cried, stood and rushed toward him. Dinah greeted her son with an affectionate hug, which Malcolm received stiffly, but she didn’t seem to notice his less than enthusiastic response.
Elegantly dressed in a cream Dolce & Gabbana pantsuit with matching shoes, Dinah Armstrong oozed sophistication with a capital “S.” Covered in pearls from the choker on her neck to the pearls on her earlobes, her look said “old money.” When Malcolm and Michael were seven years old, Dinah had begun working as a secretary for Walter Armstrong.
Walter was nearly twenty years her senior, but that didn’t matter. With an older man like Walter and a good-looking woman like Dinah rearing twins, it didn’t take long for Walter to bend down on one knee and beg her to let him take care of her and the boys. Whether Dinah married for love or money, Malcolm didn’t know, but from what he’d seen, it did eventually turn into a deep, abiding love, which surprised him, considering he’d never been on the receiving end of it. Her affection had always been reserved for Michael.
“It’s so good to see you,” Dinah gushed. “Let me look at you.” She held either side of his face and stared at him before kissing both cheeks. Malcolm blushed at the show of affection and moved away. No lovey-dovey stuff for him, Dinah thought. Sometimes she wished he was more like Michael, but it was too late to teach an old dog new tricks. “You look just as handsome as ever,” she said, taking a seat.
“So, Dinah, what brings you to Savannah?” Malcolm asked, folding his arms across his chest.
“Must you call me by my first name?” Dinah asked. “It’s so … so disrespectful. Have you forgotten your manners as well as your brains down here in the land of Dixie?”
“No, I haven’t. And if I’ve offended you, then I’m sorry,” Malcolm apologized, yet he couldn’t help but wonder what was truly going on and what had brought her to Savannah.
“Why don’t we go have some lunch and catch up? Allow me to get my wrap and I’ll be ready to go.” She left Malcolm standing there, waiting for what, he didn’t know.
Twenty minutes later, they were seated outside at a café along Riverwalk, while a waiter filled both their glasses with Evian. Dinah waited until he left before speaking. Leaning over, she grasped Malcolm’s hand. “It’s been too long, son.”
Malcolm pulled his hand away. “Yes, it has. I’m sorry I’ve stayed away this long. It truly wasn’t my intention. I guess I got caught up in my new life here.”
“And forgot that you have a mother that still cares about you and would like to know what’s going on,” Dinah commented. “Won’t you tell me about it?”
Malcolm heard the beseeching tone in her voice and acquiesced. He wasn’t purposely trying to be evasive. He was a private person and Dinah knew that, but she was his mother, so he supposed he should make an effort. “What do you want to know?”
She shrugged. “Whatever you’d like to share with me. I’m just so happy to be here with you.” Her eyes misted with tears.
Malcolm patted her hand. “Alright.” He removed his blazer and set it on the back of his chair. “I’ve taken over a family practice and now have my own clinic.”
“Oh, really,” Dinah said quietly.
“And,” Malcolm continued, “I recently purchased and renovated an historic house on Tybee Island. It’s beautiful. It’s got five bedrooms, with a parlor and study and lots of wide-open space outdoors.”
“Since when do you like the country?” Dinah asked sarcastically.
The waiter came back carrying their salad plates and set them on the table before Malcolm could answer, which was a good thing because he didn’t really care for her tone.
“Since I needed to get away from the pressures in Boston,” Malcolm answered unapologetically. He hoped Dinah wasn’t going to start in about him moving back there, because if so, she’d be wasting her breath. He liked his new life and his new woman here in Savannah and if Dinah didn’t like it, that was too darn bad.
“I don’t understand you, Malcolm. With a brilliant career like the one you had, you blow it to smithereens. Why? What possible purpose will it serve? You’re giving up your dream of being the best cardiac surgeon in the country.”
Malcolm couldn’t answer that. All he knew was that somewhere along the way his dream had changed. Being the best cardiologist no longer mattered. He was tired of being alone and now he didn’t have to be. “I know it’s hard for you to understand, but I’m happy here. Can’t you take that at face value?”
“I wish I could, Malcolm,” Dinah said, shaking her head, “if that’s all there was to it, but it’s not.”
He knew it. Dinah was being too coy. She had a secret that she wanted to share. “What’s so important you couldn’t tell me over the phone?”
Dinah paused to take a long gulp of her Evian before proceeding. “There’s no easy way to tell you this …”
“Mother, whatever it is, just tell me.”
“A woman named Tasha has come forward claiming that she had an intimate relationship with your brother that resulted in a child.” The words tumbled out of her mouth before she had time to prepare Malcolm. His face broke into complete shock.
“A son!” he muttered, leaning back in his chair. Could there really be another Michael out there? If it were true, it would just be too …
“Malcolm, did you hear a word I’ve said?” Dinah wanted to offer him a shoulder, but he remained distant across the table. She could see his mind was a million miles away.
After several long deadening moments, Malcolm finally found his voice. “Do you think she’s telling the truth?” Could Michael have left behind a child for us all to love? The news had caused Malcolm’s heartbeat to speed up rapidly and make him lightheaded.
“Of course not,” Dinah said, pulling out a cigarette. “If Michael had a son, we’d know. You and I were very close to him. If he’d gotten a woman pregnant, he would have told us.”
“So you think this woman is after his money?”
“Yes,” Dinah stated emphatically. “Michael’s estate is sizeable and she could be looking for a way to subsidize her lifestyle.”
Malcolm punched his fist down on the table for emphasis. “As executor of his will, I’d never allow that to happen.”
Dinah smiled. There was the fearless, determined son she remembered! Malcolm’s anger was encouraging. She knew her son would wipe the slate with this scheming conniver.
“So, what’s the next step?” Malcolm asked, because Dinah always had a plan.
“Well, I’ve been dismissing her claims for the last few months, but she’s hired an attorney and now it has come down to a court-ordered paternity test.”
“Then I guess we’ll find out soon enough,” Malcolm replied. The results would speak for themselves.
“Hey, girls.” Monique gave Sabrina and Jasmine a quick hug. “Come on in. Forgive the mess,” she said when Sabrina and Jasmine entered and found Monique’s one-story bungalow in complete disarray. Toys were all over the front room while Brandon and Brianna played with the television blaring in the background.
And Monique, well, she was another story entirely. She had answered her front door wearing skin-tight jean capris and a tank top two sizes too small for her overly large bosom. Her beautiful face was covered in makeup and bright red lipstick, which she really didn’t need.
“Look who’s here,” Monique said, glancing in her children’s direction. The twins looked up from their video game and beckoned Jasmine to join them on the couch.
“Come on back to the kitchen,” Monique ordered.
Sabrina followed, taking in her surroundings. The bungalow was small with only a large living room, three bedrooms, one bath and a large eat-in kitchen.
“I hope you don’t mind takeout.” Monique slid several Boston Market bags from the stove while Sabrina took a seat. “I really had every intention of making dinner tonight,” she said, pulling out several paper plates and plastic tumblers, “but the diner was busy because that trifling waitress of mine called off sick again to be with her boyfriend, leaving me holding the bag. I had to complete her shift until help arrived. Lord, I swear that restaurant is going to be the death of me.”
“Then let me help.” Sabrina rose from her seat, found a sponge in the sink and proceeded to clean the table.
“Thanks, Binks,” Monique commented, opening up the roast chicken, macaroni and cheese and creamed spinach she’d brought. “So how’s everything going?”
“Did I tell you that Mary isn’t coming back to Parker House?”
“So why don’t you tell Felicia to find someone else?” Monique asked. “Dinner’s ready,” she yelled to the children.
“I can’t.” Sabrina tossed the sponge in the sink. “I have to show her that I’m capable of doing hard work.”
Minutes later, Jasmine, Brianna and Brandon came stomping into the room causing a ruckus. “None of that in this house, ya hear?” Monique warned her children. After being scolded by their mother, Brianna and Brandon quickly sat down.
Sabrina was starved, but she fixed a plate for Jasmine first.
“I don’t like spinach.” Jasmine scrunched her nose at the offending vegetable when Sabrina set the plate in front of her.
“Spinach is good for you,” Sabrina explained, trying to be calm because she didn’t really care for Jasmine’s tone.
“I’m not eating it.” Jasmine pushed her plate away and folded her arms across her chest. Brianna and Brandon looked across the table at their mother. If they ever tried that move in front of company, their mother would kill them.
“Yes, you are,” Sabrina said, fast becoming annoyed.
“No, I’m not and you can’t make me.” Jasmine pouted.
Sabrina counted to ten before she lost her temper. Monique glanced in her friend’s direction and intervened before World War III broke out.
“Listen up, Jasmine,” Monique’s voice rose in an authoritative tone. “In this house, children do as they’re told. You’re going to sit there and eat your vegetables like the rest of the children at this table. And if you don’t, you won’t be eating at all. So, what’s it going to be?”
Jasmine looked at Brianna and Brandon for help, but they shrugged. Defeated, Jasmine acquiesced and pulled the plate back toward her.
Sabrina sighed. Thank God for Monique! She was rough around the edges, but she knew how to rule her roost.
Later, when Sabrina and Monique sat out on the couch drinking coffee and listening to Roberta Flack, they commiserated about the sad, pitiful state of their love lives.
Monique told Sabrina about her failed relationship with Brianna and Brandon’s father. “Sabrina,” Monique said, shaking her head as she tucked her legs underneath her, “the man was incredibly gifted in a certain department, if you know what I mean, and I was too young and naïve to realize he was bad news. But when he got involved with the wrong crowd and started bringing those thugs around my babies, that’s when I told him he had to go.”
“Good for you,” Sabrina said, “though you should consider yourself lucky that you didn’t have Tre Matthews.”
“Oh, I do.” Monique patted Sabrina’s thigh. “But now that you’ve found Malcolm, that must ease the pain somewhat.”
“It has.” Could she admit her true feelings to a dear old friend, someone who wouldn’t judge her? Sabrina thought so. “He’s wonderful, Monique,” Sabrina admitted. “He makes me feel special and desired in a way I’ve only dreamed of. You should see with him with Jasmine. He’s so kind and giving.”
“Have you acted on this attraction?” Monique asked, sipping her coffee.
Sabrina blushed. “Sort of.” She filled Monique in on what happened after they’d left the bar.
Monique fanned herself. “Sounds like it got pretty hot and heavy. So what are you waiting for? You’re a grown woman. And you’ve got to be horny. When was the last time you had any?”
Sabrina laughed out loud. Trust Monique to be brutally honest. “It has been awhile.”
“Don’t be afraid to take a chance. The man obviously desires you, Sabrina. Even I’ve seen it. Find that Sabrina of old. You do remember her, don’t you? The fearless girl who left town to pursue her writing career? You haven’t lost that person, Sabrina. She’s still inside you. So, go after what your want.”
“I don’t know, Monique.”
“Don’t act like the idea sounds preposterous to you. The best way to get over an old man is to find yourself a new one. And with a doctor as fine as Malcolm, you’d be a fool not to.”
“You do have a point,” Sabrina replied. “Perhaps it’s time I turned our relationship up a notch.”
“So, what do you think?” Malcolm asked after he’d given his mother a complete tour of the property and the house.
“It’s really quite amazing,” Dinah said over a glass of wine inside the parlor. The Merlot warmed her after the cool night temperature.
“I did all the work myself,” Malcolm said proudly.
“Without any help?”
She sounded aghast at the very thought of him doing manual labor alone. “Yes, with my own two hands.”
“I never thought I’d see the day when you’d become so domesticated.” She couldn’t imagine him getting his hands dirty. A chill ran through her and Dinah tossed her wrap around her shoulders.
“Cold?” Malcolm asked. “This house can take care of that. It comes with two working fireplaces.”
“Well, you sure are the real estate agent.”
Malcolm bristled. “I don’t need to sell you on my home. It’s already a done deal. But if you’re asking if I want you to be proud of my work, then yes, I am. I’ve worked very hard on this place.” He fingered the doorframes still left to be painted.
“So, it’s been cathartic?”
Malcolm nodded. “Yes, it has.”
“Then come home,” Dinah started in on him again. “Once you’re done renovating, sell it and move back where you belong.”
Annoyed, Malcolm became silent and faced the window. After the news he’d heard, he was really in no mood for another round. “You don’t get it, do you?” He spun around to face his mother. “This is my home.”
“You’re wrong.” Dinah shook her head. “Listen to me, Malcolm. You’re not too old to learn a thing or two from your mother. I’ve been around the block a time or two. Trust me, an ordinary life is not in the cards for you. Please come back with me.” Dinah held out her arms to him.
“No.” The word got his point across.
Dinah stomped her heel. “Why must you be so stubborn, after everything I’ve done for you?” She reached into her Louis Vuitton bag and pulled out a lace handkerchief. “After the life I’ve given you, the clothes, the cars and the education. I’ve given you the best of everything. Please look at what you’re doing to yourself!”
“I never asked you for any of those things.”
“No, but you sure didn’t mind them, did you?” Dinah asked sarcastically. “I implore you to stop this farce. Enough is enough. This … this life of poverty will not bring Michael back!”
Rage shot through Malcolm and he stormed across the room to confront his mother. “Don’t you dare bring Michael’s name into this conversation! His name has no place here.”
“Like hell it doesn’t,” Dinah returned and grasped him by the shoulders. “You’ve been grieving for a year. Well, enough is enough, Malcolm. Get on with life!”
“Why? So you can feel better?”
“No, so you can. I’m doing fine. I’m coping. I’m not the one who feels guilty for my role in Michael’s death.”
“What did you just say?” Malcolm pushed away from her. Maybe they were finally down to the heart of the matter.
