Everyone loves justice in the affairs of another. Proverb
Detria had remained glued to either the television or her computer most of the day and well into the night, following the news about the shooting at Holy Rock. She was heartbroken over the devastation that woman had caused. However, she wasn’t overly concerned about the accusations that Margaret revealed about Audrey not being Stiles’ biological mother. In some small way she felt that Stiles deserved the sudden turnaround in his life, and Audrey definitely deserved to have her good, wholesome name tarnished.
When she got a call from Khalil the night following the shooting, she quickly invited him to come over, knowing that he could probably use a shoulder to lean on after all that had transpired. She felt somewhat flattered that Khalil would even think about calling her, let alone visiting her, during a tragic time as this. She was thankful that his family was not among the tragedies. According to Khalil, his little brother, who was wounded, had been treated and released from the hospital.
It was after eleven p.m. when the doorbell rang, way past Priscilla’s bedtime. Rain was coming down hard, but Priscilla was a hard sleeper, so Detria knew that she probably wouldn’t hear anything anyway, not that she cared. She hurried to the door, opened it, and met a slightly wet and distraught looking Khalil. He almost looked like a child, but from their previous visit, she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was a full grown man…in every way. She dismissed the lustful thought, reached out and removed the umbrella from his hand, and ushered him into the house.
“Khalil, baby, I’m so sorry about what happened. How is your family?” she asked as they walked hand in hand and into the kitchen.
“Not good, Dee. I mean everybody’s trying to make sense out of what happened. I don’t understand any of it. I had to get out of there. That’s why I came here. I know it’s late, so I won’t stay long.”
“No, stay as long as you want. As a matter of fact, I think you should stay the night. You need to be away from it all, if only for a while.” She stroked his back and offered him a seat at the massive kitchen peninsula. “Let me make you a good stiff drink.”
Khalil didn’t refuse. Being a former drug addict, he knew he shouldn’t indulge in any mind altering substances like hard liquor, but tonight was different, considering all that he had witnessed. He agreed with Dee that he needed something to take the edge off.
“The glasses are over there in that cabinet to the right. If you’ll get one and put some ice in yours if you’d like, that would be straight.”
Khalil walked over to the cabinet, retrieved a glass, walked over to the stainless steel refrigerator and placed the glass underneath the ice dispenser until a couple of cubes fell into it. Without saying anything, he returned to the peninsula and sat in the high back stool.
“Here you go. Help yourself,” she said, returning from her fully stocked bar with a bottle of brown liquor, placing it in front of him.
Khalil poured himself a stiff drink, brought the glass up to his lips, and the liquid disappeared without a trace. He shook his head and grimaced like he was in pain.
“Another one?” she asked.
This time Khalil responded by sliding the glass toward her and Dee complied by pouring him another shot.
“You can’t imagine seeing what I witnessed yesterday, Dee,” Khalil said, finishing off the second drink as quickly as he had the first. “I’m just glad my family is okay, well most of them anyway. Aunt Margaret is dead but the things she said, I’m totally puzzled about.”
“If you want to talk about it, I’m here,” Detria told him. “Another?” she offered a third time.
Khalil nodded his head. “Yeah, one more. I want to forget it all, everything that happened, but it keeps playing over and over again in my head.” He grabbed the side of his head with both hands like he could somehow squeeze the memories out.
“Why don’t you come lie down for a while? Try to get some sleep.” Dee gently rubbed his back in a circular motion then stopped and gently tugged on his hand.
Khalil didn’t protest. He gulped down the last drink, then stood up and allowed Dee to guide him to her bedroom. She turned back the covers on the bed when they entered the room and without prompting, he walked over to the bed, sat down, took off his shoes, and laid back. The liquor had relaxed him and he closed his eyes as his head rested on the soft fluffy pillow.
Dee was already dressed in her nightgown and robe. She removed her robe and went to the other side of the king bed, got in and pulled the covers over her legs, but she sat in the bed rather than lay down in it. Looking over at Khalil, she didn’t say a word. She heard his light snore and proceeded to put some cover over him. Flooded suddenly with memories of her baby girl’s death, she fought against crying but became overwhelmed thinking about the loss of so many people, but especially Francesca and her husband and Rena’s parents.
She may not have seen eye to eye with Stiles, Pastor, or Rena, but she didn’t wish the pain of losing a loved one on anyone. Eyeing Khalil, she leaned in next to him and kissed him on the side of his head. He didn’t stir. Easing up out of the bed, she went into the bathroom, closed the door behind her, sat on the toilet, and allowed the tears to come. The pain in her heart that she felt for Khalil, for herself, and even for Stiles, was paramount. No amount of discord or dislike for Stiles or his father could make her feel any less sorry for what they must be going through. Francesca’s death must be ripping them apart.
Her thoughts transferred to her own little boy, three year old Elijah. It wasn't often that she saw him or spent any significant time with him. He unofficially lived with his father, Skip, and Skip’s wife, Meaghan. Detria initially fought against Elijah living with his daddy, but in the beginning when she was incapacitated from the car accident, she had to admit that she wasn't the best mother. Her physical challenges limited her ability to care for her son in the manner she desired.
As the boy spent more time with Skip, Elijah preferred being with him more than he did with her. Priscilla told her it was because Elijah had a younger sibling and enjoyed having someone to play with. Detria wasn't buying it. She believed that her little boy simply preferred his daddy over her. She soon came to terms with it and to keep her son happy she let him stay as long as he wanted to stay. He visited her a day or two every month and most holidays, but other than that, it was like Detria didn't have a kid.
Her cell phone rang. She got up off the toilet and went back into the bedroom, taking caution not to awaken Khalil. The phone continued to ring then stopped before she could follow the ring. Next, her house phone rang. She looked at Khalil, and he still hadn't budged. He must really be exhausted, she thought and proceeded to pick up the phone from its base.
"Uggh, the devil himself," she mumbled when she saw it was Skip calling. She pushed the button to answer. "Hello, why are you calling me this time of night?" she whispered as she went back into the bathroom and closed the door. “You must have dialed the wrong number; I am not your booty call.”
"Thank God for small miracles,” he shot back. “Look, Meaghan said that I should call and let you know that we had to take Elijah to the ER.”
"So Meaghan had to tell you to call me? Uggh. Anyway, what happened? Is he okay?" she asked, a little panicked.
"Don't get your panties in a wad. He's fine. He did an awkward flip on the bed earlier this evening, landed on his arm, and broke his wrist. He’s a real trooper. Didn't cry or anything."
"I hope my son is okay. You need to watch him more closely," she chastised Skip.
"Look, I didn't call for all the unnecessary drama. I told you that he's fine. I just wanted to keep you in the loop of what's going on with him."
"Is he asleep?" She figured that he was since it was after midnight.
"Yeah, he's knocked out."
"Call me in the morning so I can talk to him."
"Yeah," he answered drily and then ended the call.
Detria heard the phone go silent so she pushed the End button on her phone. She looked at herself in the mirror. Sometimes she didn't like the person that she had become. So much had happened in her life that she wasn't proud of. Physically abusing Pastor was one, lying about Stiles physically abusing her was another, cheating on him was yet another, not being the best mother she could be to her daughter, and now repeating the same with her son. Her list of mess-ups was endless. Even before then, she used to be manipulative and sneaky. As close as she was to her sister, even Brooke knew little of the stuff Detria had done.
When she first returned to Memphis, setting her eyes on Stiles was another one of her manipulative feats. It paid off for a while, at least, because she got Stiles to fall in love with her and marry her. His mother loved her probably because as Audrey told her, they were two of a kind. They saw what they wanted and refused to stop until they got whatever it was. Detria smiled a bit as she thought about Audrey, but soon her smile was replaced by tears as she started thinking about her failed marriage, the death of her baby girl, and the car accident that left her in constant pain.
After crying for several minutes, Detria washed her face and returned to bed. She nestled against Khalil who turned over toward her and embraced her tightly. Without saying a word, he kissed her on her forehead and his hands traveled the course of her curvaceous body. She reciprocated by kissing him on his lips and performing her own exploration while helping him out of his clothes. Both of them needed a way out, a reprieve from everything going on around them. Dee wanted the memories to stop tormenting her, memories that hadn’t left her alone since Baby Audrey died. Today’s events had taken her back to that awful place of pain and anguish—a place that Khalil would come to know all too well for himself.
Dee lay underneath Khalil. She felt protected, safe, and needed. It didn't matter about their age difference. It didn't matter anymore what other people thought about her. All that mattered was now, this moment in time. Khalil expertly made love to her while she listened to the mounting storm outside and the strong force of winds pounding against her windowpane. All was right in her world and she couldn’t care less about anyone else.