Gwyneth Bolton

Protect and Serve


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vulnerability.

      “Shouldn’t you be inside with her, then, if she’s so torn up? Isn’t that what lovers are supposed to do for one another? Comfort? Console? Why are you out here talking to me?”

      “I’m out here because, despite what you think, I want what’s best for everyone involved. She doesn’t need the stress. It’s bad enough she has to deal with Carla, and you know how that can be.” Terrill ran his hand through his close-cropped, naturally curly hair and sighed. “You don’t need to be all hung up on a past you barely understand. There’s a lot you just don’t know, Jason. If I could tell you without breaking confidences, I would.”

      Jason watched kids ride their bikes down the crowded street, took in all the hustle and bustle of the inner city on a spring evening. Paterson’s streets came alive, pulsing with energy, once the days became warmer and longer. There might not be a lot of flowers in bloom or trees blossoming in the tenement jungle, but spring was definitely in the air. While feeling the pulse of his beloved city, Jason counted to ten.

      It didn’t work.

      The fact was, Terrill was the same pretty boy who’d gone off to Los Angeles with his girl. He was the same former record company intern who had made it possible for Jason’s girl to dance in rap videos, thereby torturing Jason for years, because he could still see her everywhere but she was no longer his.

      If anyone in the world knew how much Jason had loved Penny, it was Terrill. For those reasons alone, Terrill’s betrayal was unforgivable.

      “Oh! Now, you have morals. Where were they fifteen years ago, when you stole my girl?”

      Terrill threw his hands up and shook his head. “I give up, man. I tried, but you’re stuck in the past. You need to let it go. And like I said, lay off with the guilt trips on Penny. She doesn’t need that right now.”

      Watching Terrill walk away, Jason was almost tempted to chase him and finish the fight. It was a fight fifteen years in the making, and he was sure they would have it eventually.

      Maybe the wake wasn’t the time and place. But he would get answers—especially from the woman who’d broken his heart.

      Penny let out the breath she hadn’t been aware she was holding when she saw Jason leave the funeral home. And she smiled when she saw the other Hightower brothers coming in to pay their respects. Patrick, Lawrence and Joel had always been like unofficial big brothers to her. She missed the closeness she used to have with their family.

      If only things could have been different….

      “Penny, baby, it’s so good to see you. You look good. I’m just so sad I’m seeing you under these circumstances. How’re you holding up, baby?” Jason’s mother, Celia Hightower, gave her a big hug, followed by her husband, James Hightower.

      Seeing the other two adults who had provided her with a place of refuge when she was a kid, while her only other constant source of support lay in a coffin, made her chest swell up. But she refused to break down and start crying. If she started, she feared, she’d never stop.

      She stood in front of Big Mama’s casket, and the only thing she could think was how someone who was so much larger than life, someone who had been life to her, could possibly be gone.

      The makeup the mortician had put on Big Mama seemed a few shades too dark for the light-complexioned woman Penny had known. Penny touched the long, wavy hair that Big Mama and her own mother shared but had skipped a generation with her.

      She remembered it had been Big Mama who taught her to be proud of her thick, sandy-brown hair when she wanted soft, jet-black hair like Big Mama and Carla’s. When Carla complained that Penny’s hair was just too much to handle, Big Mama had taught Penny how to love and tame her mane.

      Penny let the good memories wash over her and fought back her tears as she touched Big Mama’s cheek.

      Mr. Hightower kept his strong arm around her. “She’s in a better place now. She’s with the Lord.”

      Why do people always say that? How do they really know? Penny wondered as she continued to caress Big Mama’s cheek.

      “She was so proud of you, Penny. She talked about you all the time. And she loved you, Penny. We’re all proud of you, baby. And we miss you.” Mrs. Hightower smiled brightly. The woman sported a full and shapely figure and a warm demeanor. She wore a beautiful black skirt suit and a delicate string of pearls with matching earrings.

      Penny moved with the Hightowers away from the casket. She couldn’t look anymore and she couldn’t listen to them anymore. If she did, the lump in her chest that was threatening to explode any minute would be her undoing. And she couldn’t lose it at the wake. She had to hold it together.

      Mrs. Hightower’s kind eyes made Penny remember all the times she had let her help out in the kitchen or had taken her shopping. Celia Hightower used to say she wanted to spend some girl time and get away from a house full of men and boys.

      Even before Penny and Jason became a couple, Mrs. Hightower had taken Penny under her wing as the daughter she never had. Seeing her, and missing their bond, made Penny feel even worse—as if it were possible for her to feel any worse.

      “Thanks, Mr. and Mrs. Hightower. I just wish I could’ve seen her before she died. She wasn’t even sick. It—it just happened too fast. I never got the chance to—”

      Her voice choked off, and Penny took a deep breath. She couldn’t break now. There was just too much to do. She could have her breakdown when she returned to Los Angeles.

      “She knew, baby. She knew you loved her.” Mrs. Hightower patted her hand and smiled. “Now you be sure to stop by and catch up before you head back to the West Coast. Don’t you leave here without coming to see me! I’ve missed you, sweetie.”

      Penny felt the weight of the guilt she’d been feeling since finding out Big Mama died grow and press her chest down. She had never wanted to lose contact with Mr. and Mrs. Hightower. She loved them. They were like the parents she’d never had, the parents she’d wished she had. Spending time in their home while growing up had made her feel normal and, most important, loved.

      “She could come over for Sunday dinner,” James Hightower offered. He stood over six feet tall and shared the same deep mahogany complexion as his four sons. He seemed to be the aged but still handsome template for those classic Hightower looks.

      Penny took a deep breath. She remembered Sunday dinner at the Hightowers’ after church. And she knew she couldn’t sit through one of those family gatherings, no matter how much she secretly yearned to do so. No way could she do it.

      “I’ll try, Mrs. Hightower,” Penny offered, hoping that would be enough. “But I better move along and see some of the other guests now.”

      “Go ahead, baby, and we’ll see you on Sunday.” Mrs. Hightower patted her back with a smile and pushed her on her way.

      It occurred to Penny to say that she hadn’t said she’d definitely be there. But given the determination Mrs. Hightower always had, she knew better than to say never.

      Carla slipped out the side door of the funeral parlor as soon as she saw him. He was probably the last person she wanted to see at her mother’s wake. But there he was. If she could give him the slip, the way she had been doing since he got out of jail, that would be a good thing. If she could keep giving him the slip until she managed to talk her daughter into taking her back to Los Angeles with her, that would be even better.

      Who would have thought both of those men would be out of jail at the same time? When your past came back to shoot you in the behind, it sure as hell came back blasting. For sure, this was more stress than her hanging-on-to-recovery-by-the-skin-of-her-teeth behind could handle.

      She wouldn’t have her mother to help her stay clean this time. It had been hard enough doing so with her mama alive and giving her positive encouragement.

      How will I stay clean with Mama dead