“That’s why you need a distraction in your personal life. Reconnect with your friends and find a woman who makes you laugh. One whom you’d want to spend more than a few hours with. And it wouldn’t hurt if y’all were friends for a while before you decide on something more serious.”
“Define serious, Mom.”
“Sleeping together.”
“What about living together?”
“Even though I’m not that old, I am old school about shacking up. What’s the expression?Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?”
“A lot of women who claim to be liberated say they don’t want to be married because they want the freedom to control their own destinies.”
“Women say a lot of things, Kenny, because it sounds good. There are very few women out there who prefer to live their lives as single women.”
“Are you talking about lesbian women?”
“There’s no doubt that even lesbians want life partners. But that isn’t possible, because same-sex marriage is illegal in this country.”
“Do you believe in same-sex marriage?”
“I believe people should be able to marry who they love.”
Kenny wagged a finger. “You’re not answering my question.”
Justine successfully concealed her annoyance with a saccharine smile. “I thought I did, so let’s drop the subject.”
She knew for certain she would’ve married Francis if he had been Black. However, with the state of race relations in America, their union would’ve been fraught with derision and ridicule. Black folk would call her a sellout for marrying out of her race, while White women in particular would probably insult her to her face for taking what they’d deemed belonged to them.
“Do you want me to sleep over so we can go out for breakfast in the morning?” Kenny asked.
Justine shook her head. “No, sweetie. Go home and get some sleep. I’ll be all right here.”
“Are you sure, Mama?”
She angled her head, smiling. “Of course, I’m sure. Be careful driving because you know folks use any holiday to act a fool. And don’t forget to ring my phone twice, then hang up so that I know you got home safe.”
Leaning over, Kenny kissed her cheek. “Love you.”
“Love you more.” She was still sitting in the spot when the door closed behind Kenny. Then she heard him lock it. Even after he’d moved out, he held on to the key to the apartment. And respecting her privacy, he’d never come over unannounced. The exception was after she was discharged from the hospital following her heart attack.
It was the first day of a new year, and for the first time in her life, Justine Russell decided to make a New Year’s resolution. She was going to put down in words how she’d become a pawn for two selfish women and how it had altered her life. She’d kept the secrets and had lied so often that they were beginning to keep her from a restful night’s sleep.
Kenny had a right to know where he’d come from in order to know where he had to go, and who his mother actuallywas. Before she embarked on an around-the-world cruise, Justine decided she would chronicle her life, beginning with what she could recall growing up with her mother, aunts, and uncle in a cramped apartment in a less-than-desirable Bronx neighborhood. Rather than talk to a priest or a therapist, she would tell her story on the pages of a journal for her son to read when she felt it was the right time. She knew it had to be soon, because she needed to unburden herself and break the chains of deceit that had controlled, and continued to control, her life.
CHAPTER30
Father Ramon Torres thought he was hallucinating when he met the large dark eyes of the little boy staring up at him as he hesitated placing the communion wafer on the little outstretched tongue. The boy was his mirror image at that age. It was only when he glanced over toward the head of the woman standing behind the child that he knew exactly who she was.
Migdalia Hernandez hadn’t lied when she said he’d gotten her pregnant. Without a doubt, the boy was his. He had to be at least ten, because he’d slept with Migdalia Hernandez a couple of months before his graduating from college, and that was in 1973. His hand trembled slightly as he placed the wafer on the child’s tongue, then met the eyes of Migdalia when she stepped in front of him.
“The body of Christ,” he said softly as he repeated the gesture with her.
Migdalia smiled. “Amen.” She was still smiling when she lowered her eyes and escorted her son back to their pew.
Ray didn’t want to believe his volunteering to perform mass for a priest at another parish would bring him face-to-facewith his past. Even after he’d recovered from the savage beating, he continued to deny that Migdalia was pregnant with his baby, because of what his attacker told him within seconds of being abducted off the street in broad daylight.“You’re going to pay for fucking with my lady.”The threat told Ray that Migdalia was probably sleeping with him and her boyfriend at the same time, and he was the better marriage prospect because he planned to become a doctor.
Once mass concluded, he retreated to the rectory, where he went into a room and closed the door to change out of his vestments and into the quintessential black suit with the white collar identifying him as a member of the clergy. If he hadn’t stepped in for an ailing colleague, Ray knew he probably would have spent the rest of his natural life unaware that he had produced a child. Studying for the priesthood had made him a changed man. Over time, prayer and abstinence had curbed the sexual urges that had at one time controlled his very existence. The first year he struggled not to touch himself; then, after a while, it was as if the very act had become distasteful. He was an eager divinity student and enjoyed the hours of solitude where he devoured the works of religious scholars and philosophers.
Ray had found a new home at the seminary, and even when he was allowed privileges to visit with his family, he preferred spending hours in the chapel praying and meditating. Once he felt that he’d achieved the spiritual healing that had eluded him, he would call his mother to let her know when to expect him to come home. It wasn’t until after he had emerged from the drug-induced coma that he was told his grandmother had passed away and his parents had accompanied her body to Puerto Rico for her burial. His sisters and brothers were young adults, and his older sister had married a hospital social worker, and after a couple of years, he decided to reconnect with his blood brothers.
