“I wanted you to see it. I want you to understand.”
“I understand only too well. You prefer to live in the past rather than to look toward the future,” she whispered.
How could she have been so certain she could deal with this? How? Right now all she could do was accept what was right in front of her face. She could never lose what she never really had.
“That’s not what I’m doing.”
“Really? Then why have you kept this house? And don’t tell me you don’t own it, because I suspect you do. Do you have plans to someday move back here?”
The look he gave her was a sharp, pointed one, but he didn’t voice his thoughts. He put the car back into gear and set it into motion. Not once did he look back, but then he did not have to, Anthia decided bitterly. As long as he owned that house he held on to a part of Christine.
They shared a quiet dinner later that evening in a small steak house near the interstate where dress was not an issue. The music and good food seemed to ease the mood.
She surprised them both when she asked, “Have you considered having a talk with your father while you’re here?”
“There’s nothing to say. Our lives have moved in two entirely different paths over the years.” Dexter did not want to remember the time after his release from prison. His voice was bitter as he told her how things were when he’d moved back to Houston.
For five years, he’d worked and lived in the city while on parole. His only contact with his family had been with his sister.
When he finished Anthia asked “How can you have nothing to talk about when you haven’t seen each other in more than ten years?”
“We said it all before my trial. He no longer has a son and I have no father.”
“I can see where he might not be willing to change. He’s an old man, set in his ways. Dex, you’re not. Can’t you at least try to repair the rift between you?” Her dark eyes filled with concern.
“I was not the one who left his wife and child before the ink was barely dry on his degree. He left and never looked back. I never turned my back on him during the most difficult time of his life. He believed the worst. He believed I killed my wife and child in cold blood.”
“It’s in the past. Why can’t you two leave it there?” Anthia said pushing her food away. Like Dexter, she didn’t have much of an appetite.
“You’re wrong. It’s still there between us.”
Frustrated, Anthia sighed wearily. Dexter was a good man, but he could be stubborn. He deserved some peace in his life, some happiness. If he could repair his relationship with his father, perhaps that could be one step toward leaving his past in the past. Anthia was acutely aware that the only person in his family that genuinely seemed to have feelings for him was his sister.
“Honey, I do so admire you for coming back. I’m not sure if the situation were reversed I could find the courage to do so.”
Dexter smiled briefly taking her hand in his. She made him feel good about the changes he had made in his life. Perhaps she had a point.
“Look,” she said, her eyes glimmering like an eager child as the waitress approached with the dessert tray.
Dexter chuckled. “That chocolate cream pie looks good.” His breath caught in his throat as he visualized a little girl with Anthia’s pretty features and petite stature. She was a wonderful mother.
“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.
More disheartening for her was to learn that he could not bring himself to sell the home he had designed and built for Christine. If she had any doubts about his ability to love again, this latest discovery had shattered the last tiny grain of hope that she had clung to.
She wondered if she should consider herself lucky that he had told her that after his release from prison while he was on parole he had chosen to work with juvenile offenders rather than go back to his chosen career. When he left for Michigan, he had put his past completely behind him, determined to never look back.
Now that she had seen with her own eyes the way his father had turned his back on his own flesh and blood, she had no choice but to accept the harsh, bitter truth that Dexter had lived with for years. In Damon Washington’s view, there could be no margin for error, even for his own son.
Anthia considered his heartlessness and cruelty unconscionable. She, too, had faced the difficulties parenting can involve. Jeff had made a serious mistake, perhaps the most serious of his entire life. If she had turned her back on him then, their whole life would be different today.
Jeff would probably not be in college paving a solid future for himself, but in jail serving a sentence he did not deserve. His attitude about life and people would have certainly changed for the worse, if she had not supported him. His faith and trust would no doubt have been altered in a negative way. More importantly, she would have lost her son’s love and trust.
In her opinion, Damon Washington had made a serious mistake and because of it he had lost the trust of a wonderful man.
Dexter was one of a kind. She could never forget that he believed in her before she was strong enough to believe in herself. He never doubted that Jeff would make it through a difficult recovery. Nor had he doubted that she could make a success of her business. He encouraged her at every turn. He was her number one supporter and friend.
Anthia suspected that Dexter still loved his father whether he was willing to admit it or not. In fact, she was sure of it. If Dexter did not love him, Dexter could not be hurt by him. He had been deeply hurt by his father’s last heartless act. Why couldn’t Mr. Washington see that he had probably severed the last bit of hope that the two of them had of ever reconciling their differences?
As Anthia rested on her side in the dark, she was oblivious to the lateness of the hour. Yes, she was tired but she knew her weariness came from more than lack of sleep. Her feelings were hurt because Dexter preferred his own company. He did not want to be with her tonight.
It was after three in the morning when she heard his hoarse, cry of anguish. Anthia did not weigh the wisdom of her going to him under the circumstances. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and hurried through the connecting bathroom. She paused long enough to knock lightly on his closed door.
“Dex? Are you all right?” His throaty shout had her rushing into the dark room to where he tossed on the king-size bed. “Dex...” she shook him trying to wake him. “Honey, wake up.”
“No!” he gasped, then sat straight up in bed.
“Shush, it’s okay. It was only a dream,” she crooned to him, stroking his bare chest.
“Anthia?” he said groggily.
“Yes,” her caressing hand moved soothingly over him. “I heard you moaning in your sleep. You okay?”
“Yeah,” he said catching her hand and holding it in his own for awhile. Dexter pushed back the sheet and padded over to the patio doors that overlooked the garden. He was unconcerned by his nudity as he stared out into the night. Taking in deep fortifying breaths, and then letting it out slowly, he said, “Sorry I woke you.”
Anthia crossed to him, wrapping her arms protectively around herself while telling herself that she had no business being hurt because he had moved away from her. “I was awake. Well, if you’re all right...” she said before her voice trailed off.
Dexter turned moving swiftly across the room, blocking her path. “Don’t leave. Not just yet.” His large hands were balled at his sides.
She tried not to follow the powerful muscular lines of his shoulders with her eyes, but failed for her gaze moved on to the trim lines of his midsection, his sex heavy even when reposed, his long well muscled thighs and calves. He was like a dark bronze statue... gorgeous. She lifted her chin when she said, “I had the impression that you preferred your own company.”