Dna, p.16
Dna, page 16
part #1 of Virtues & Vices Series
But Amoy stood in the doorway with both hands pressed to her mouth. With tears streaming down her face, she screamed and pointed with a shaking hand. “Junior!”
Russ focused beyond the hood.
The whites of Junior’s eyes were large in his pale face and the freckles more pronounced as he stared at Russ.
What is he still doing there?
Reality hit Russ, and he was instantly sober.
Junior was pinned to the wall.
As sweat poured into his eyes, Russ lifted his foot and carefully put the SUV into reverse. He mumbled an incoherent prayer, hoping he was in a dream. The beer fumes coming from his mouth said otherwise.
Amoy rushed forward and grabbed junior as he fell, holding his side. The cars scattered around him as Amoy yelled, “Miss Sarah!”
The woman came running and when she absorbed the scene, got down on her knees on Junior’s other side. As Amoy cradled Junior, Miss Sarah said, “Miss Amoy, you have to let him go so we can put him in the vehicle.”
Russ jumped out, but at the sight of him, Amoy shouted. “Don’t come any closer.”
As she rushed toward The Yaris with Junior in her arms, he blocked her path. “Where are you going, Em? My engine is on and all of us will fit better. Junior will be more comfortable. Just get into the vehicle.”
Her eyes swivelled in their sockets as she assessed the situation. The hair on her forehead clung to her skin and her breathing was laboured.
Russ reached for Junior, whose eyes were half closed.
“Don’t touch him!” Amoy turned aside so he couldn’t reach Junior.
As she scrambled into the SUV, Miss Sarah shouted, “Hold on, mi soon come.”
She returned in a minute, carrying sandals for both boys. After rounding the front of the Escape, she grabbed the handle in the roof, swung herself inside and locked the seatbelt.
“Call Daddy,” Amoy said, and the ice in her voice chilled Russ further.
He speed dialed the number and handed her the phone, trying not to listen as she relayed the bad news.
The entire incident felt like the script of a horror movie. As he drove toward the private hospital that took care of the company employees, Russ suspended his thoughts. If he got lost in his head now he’d never get them there safely.
When she wasn’t talking to Junior, Amoy comforted Troy by telling him they’d be at the hospital soon. The ride was the longest Russ had ever taken. He overtook lines of traffic, broke a stoplight and came close to hitting another SUV. Behind him, he left a trail of motorists blasting their horns. The moment he stopped in front of the hospital building, Amoy wriggled off the seat and ran inside carrying Junior. Only God knew where she found the strength.
Troy and Miss Sarah followed.
Russ rushed to the intake desk where Amoy was explaining what happened. Although he stood next to her, it was as if he didn’t exist. When he tried to take Junior from her arms, she stepped back, staggering under Junior’s weight. “You’ve done enough.”
“Sir?”
Russ spun toward the security guard at his elbow. “What?” he snapped.
The half-dozen people sitting in the open area gave him disapproving looks, then went back to their business.
“You have to move your vehicle. Please and thank you.”
“I’ll be back,” he said.
Miss Sarah, who sat near the entrance holding Troy’s hand, nodded but Amoy didn’t acknowledge him.
He strode out, found a spot to park, and returned to the waiting area.
Amoy and Junior were nowhere in sight.
“Where are they?” he asked Miss Sarah.
She pointed to her right. “They went that way.”
He walked deeper into the hospital, pushing his head into waiting rooms and yanking back curtains. After he issued the second apology to someone lying behind a privacy screen, Russ went to the nurses’ station. “I’m looking for Amoy and Russell Majors, Jr.”
“What’s your relation to them, sir?” The young nurse behind the counter asked.
“She’s my wife. The boy is my son.”
She pointed across the corridor. “Second room to your right.”
When he opened the door, Amoy’s gaze cut to him from where she sat next to Junior, who lay on a stretcher. She held an ice pack to his side. A second later, she looked away. As if she couldn’t stand the sight of him. He’d been thinking that a lot lately from the way she avoided interfacing with him.
He had no time to tell her what happened because a middle-aged man in scrubs walked into the room and stood next to Junior, who lay on his back. “I’ve arranged for an X-ray so we can see what’s going on inside the little man.”
Leaning over Junior, he said, “You’re going to be fine. We have to look inside you before we decide what to do, okay?”
Junior nodded and his gaze went to Amoy, who stroked his hand.
A pair of attendants swept into the small room and pushed Junior’s stretcher down the corridor and around the corner to their X-ray facility. They waited outside, Amoy with her arms folded over her stomach and Russ, leaning on one wall.
Since there were no other patients waiting for x-rays, they were back in the examination room inside a half-hour. The silence was complete except for Amoy murmuring to Junior. “Try not to move, hon.”
The doctor returned after a short while and examined Junior again, gently prodding his torso and asking if he was in pain. He consulted the chart he carried once more before speaking to them. “Mr. and Mrs. Majors, I can confirm that he has two fractured ribs on his right side. Given the nature of his injury, I’m going to prescribe pain medication and ask you to continue with the ice pack treatment. He will need to rest in order to heal properly. No running around for the next few weeks.” He tapped Junior’s nose. “You hear that, sport?”
Junior bobbed his head.
The doctor moved closer to Amoy, but included Russ in his question. “How did this happen?”
Instinctively, because of the alcohol on his breath, Russ stepped back. “It was an accident. I just drove in and the boys were on the carport. I thought he followed his brother into the house, but by the time I realized he hadn’t, it was too late.”
The doctor rubbed the back of his head. “I’m afraid I’ll have to report this to the CDA.”
Russ’s stomach plunged to his shoes. “The Child Development Agency? Why?”
“It’s standard procedure in cases like these.”
“Oh. God.” Russ squeezed his eyes shut. “Tell me this isn’t real.”
“I’m afraid it is.” The doctor lowered the clipboard and glanced at Junior. “He’s of age to be interviewed, so he can speak for himself.”
Russ’s heart beat to a hard, heavy cadence. With how he’d been behaving, what if Junior told them anything to make them think …
The doctor’s voice disturbed his mental anguish. He held out a sheet of paper to Amoy. “Here’s an exercise I want him to do. It will decrease his risk of any lung infection. If anything changes overnight, please call me.”
His gaze rested on Russ. “The CDA will be in touch with both of you.”
Turning to Junior, he continued, “Time to go, little man. Mommy and I will help you out of bed.”
As Junior climbed down from the stool at the bedside, he winced and held his side.
Russ, too, flinched. This wouldn’t have happened if he’d gone straight home from the airport.
He walked behind Amoy and Junior, wrapped in his own brand of misery. What if the company heard about this accident, plus the fact that he’d been drinking? What if they knew he was going to be investigated for harming his son? His gaze cut to Junior. What if he thought Russ hurt him deliberately and said so when he was interviewed? Russ wanted to erase that thought, but it was impossible.
Jesus, have mercy.
In the waiting area at the front of the hospital, Uncle Charles got to his feet when he spotted them. He hugged Amoy, patted Russ’s shoulder, and touched Junior’s cheek.
As hard as he tried to guess what his father-in-law was thinking, Russ couldn’t. The man wore the epitome of a poker face but his gray-green eyes searched Russ’s.
“Junior and I will ride with Daddy.” Amoy addressed Russ’s throat and wouldn’t shift her gaze any higher.
“But—”
“It’s okay.” Uncle Charles stepped forward. “We’ll all get there at once. Don’t worry about it.”
Again, Russ tried to gauge Uncle Charles’s mood, but couldn’t. His shoulders drooped and he looked at Amoy, who had pulled Junior to her side. Russ slid both hands into his pockets and stared at his shoes in the fading light. “Amoy, come talk to me for a moment. Please.”
She finally looked at him and he thought she might refuse. Amoy walked past him and stopped a few feet away.
He went to her, holding her gaze, letting her see his pain. “Em, why are you refusing to ride with me? We came together. I need you beside me.”
She pressed her lips together as if she tasted something sour. “If you need a salve for your conscience, I’m not it.”
Rubbing his forehead, Russ said, “That’s not it. Of course, I feel awful but we’re family. We stick together.”
Arms folded, she backed away. “Oh, so now we’re family. Is it because you didn’t get what you wanted and now you realize you’re up a creek without a paddle?”
He frowned and let his hands fall to his side. “What are you saying, Amoy? You can’t be thinking what you’re implying.”
When she stayed quiet and narrowed her eyes, a chill went through him. “Em?”
“After the way you’ve treated Junior for the last month, why would I think anything different?”
He sputtered and glanced at Uncle Charles, who was watching them. “You—you have got to be joking.”
“I’ve never been more serious.”
She stepped sideways, and he grabbed her arm. “Em, please, talk to me.”
Amoy inhaled and tipped her chin up to look him in the eyes. “I’ll talk to you at home.”
“Why won’t you believe me?” He loosened his grip, then pleaded, “Do you believe I’d do anything to harm our son? Really, Em?”
Her eyes flashed, reminding him of his denial of Junior.
A bitter smile twisted her lips before she answered, “In the same way you refuse to believe I didn’t hide Junior’s paternity from you, I choose to believe you deliberately tried to crush him.”
Twenty-Two
Amoy’s eyes popped open and she frowned, wondering what woke her. She cocked her head, then her brows cleared.
Russ.
His snoring was as loud as one of those Chinese-made motorbikes everybody was riding through the streets of Kingston these days. Yeng-Yeng bikes, they called them.
She cast away the inane thought and turned aside from Russ while her mind cycled back to last night. When they finally came home, Russ had gotten louder and more desperate, pleading his case. After the accident, she had no bandwidth to deal with an adult male who knew he had a low tolerance for alcohol but chose to drink anyhow. When he dozed off fully dressed, she forced him to get up. He left the bedroom and after Miss Sarah gave him a mug of mint tea, he came back still trying to apologize.
“Give it a rest,” was all she said to him.
When she wouldn’t listen to him, he spread his arms in a wide arc, knocking the lamp off the bedside table on his side.
Junior came running, holding his side, and she had to reassure him everything was okay.
She’d have to deal with Russ today, no matter how she felt about his behavior.
She shifted, and Russ rolled over and dropped his arm over her waist. Under other circumstances, his touch would have been welcomed. Now, not so much. The residual alcohol fumes turned her stomach and she tried to wriggle out of his hold.
“Where you going?” he mumbled.
“I have to get up.” She lay stiff in his arms until he got the message and settled on his back.
“Em, I’m sorry.”
With her feet resting on her slippers, she said, “You sound like a scratched CD.”
“I don’t know what else to say.”
“I don’t suppose you do.” She turned, staring at his bare chest. “It doesn’t feel so good on the other side of the accusations, does it?”
“Amoy, you know I’d never—”
“Save it. I can’t do this right now. I’m going to check on Junior. We can talk after that.”
His sigh carried to her as she entered the bathroom but she ignored him. She’d spent half the night awake, working through his explanation. Did he or didn’t he lose control of the SUV? She could see it happening since he was tipsy, but with the way he behaved over the past few weeks, she couldn’t help wondering if a tiny bit of spite hadn’t fueled his actions.
With her morning needs taken care of, she showered, changed, and went to the boys’ room.
Junior eased into an upright position when she sat on the edge of his bed. Troy lay unmoving across the room.
“How are you, baby?” she asked, kissing his forehead.
“I’m fine,” he said, clutching his pillow.
“You want to get those breathing exercises over and done with?”
He nodded, then winced.
While she guided him through ten sets of inhalations, then made him cough, she hid her reaction to his pain. She’d always believed everything happened for a reason, but she couldn’t see through this one. If Russ had come home when he should have …
She looked up when he stood in the doorway, as if her thoughts had drawn him. His eyes were bloodshot and wouldn’t settle on her as he ran one hand over his beard. “Hey, Junior. How’re you feeling today, champ?”
Junior’s hesitant smile said everything. “Good.”
“Can I talk to him for a minute?” Russ asked, as he walked into the room.
Amoy focused on Junior, who watched her for his cue. She sighed and closed her eyes. Would things ever return to normal?
“I’ll be back in a minute,” she said, grimacing when her words sounded more like a warning rather than her simply conveying information. As she passed Russ, she sent him a stern look.
If he said or did anything to upset Junior, he’d answer to her.
She glanced at them over her shoulder before she left the room. Russ had taken her place on the bed and was still rubbing his jaw, a sign of discomfort. Too bad things had to come to this. She didn’t envy him the task of restoring the relationship with his son.
That thought brought a twinge of discomfort. If only they could roll back the time to when things were simpler. Who knew a promotion would cause this much upheaval in their lives?
Her nose led her to the kitchen, where Miss Sarah was in the process of preparing breakfast. Although she knew Amoy didn’t mind feeding the family on the weekend, as long as Miss Sarah was on duty, she took care of their needs.
The aroma of escoveitched fish and fried bammies, or cassava cakes, made Amoy’s stomach growl. She hadn’t eaten since lunch yesterday, but hunger had been the least of her concerns. While fixing a cup of cocoa for Junior, Amoy chatted with Miss Sarah.
The older woman studied her before asking, “You all right, ma’am?”
Amoy nodded and didn’t bother to correct her on the formal way she addressed her. Miss Sarah was set in her ways and wasn’t about to change.
“I’m just fine.”
“Mr. Russ up as yet? How him feeling today?”
“Good, as far as I know.”
“I hope him better today dan him was yesterday.”
Her cryptic remark stiffened Amoy’s spine. As a rule, she didn’t discuss her business with Miss Sarah, but Amoy looked at her as family.
“Hopefully.”
Miss Sarah turned away from the stove, where she laid golden-fried bammies on a paper towel to absorb the grease. With the fork pointed at Amoy, she said, “Is not my business, but di way t’ings look, since yuh decide to move, di house turn upside down.”
Miss Sarah didn’t know how close she was to the truth. Everything had gone downhill since then. Amoy didn’t have to look around to realize she’d still done next to nothing about getting them packed up for the move. Subliminally, she’d been operating in tandem with her reluctance to pull up roots. She wondered when Russ would realize they weren’t on the same page. From the get-go that had been the case. But he was too wrapped up in what he wanted to see it.
“Anyway, I hope t’ings go back to normal before you all go.”
Miss Sarah’s remark pulled Amoy into the room and she realized that she hadn’t responded to her last comment.
“Yeah, let’s hope so,” she said, dropping the spoon into the sink.
“Sometimes we sacrifice to make t’ings better for our family and den dey don’ work out as good as we believe dey will.”
“That’s true, Miss Sarah, but don’t worry about us. We’ll be okay.”
Nodding, Miss Sarah laid another set of bammies in the frying pan. “I believe so. I been praying for all o’ yuh.”
Which is more than I’ve been doing for myself.
The realization stumped Amoy. Since she spoke to Daddy last week, she promised to make time for more than her morning devotion in the car on the way to work. Somehow, she hadn’t done much more than that. Like she’d come to realize with Russ and his inability to forgive, old habits were hard to break. Sighing, she resolved to do better.
When she entered the boys’ room, Russ had left. As she sat facing Junior, she suppressed the urge to ask him what Russ said to him. She longed to know, but didn’t want to ask.
As Junior sipped from the cup, she studied the dusting of freckles around his nose. As far as the world was concerned, he was Russ’s son. The only visible thing that set him apart had destroyed their marriage. That thought pulled a gasp from her. Was this the end of the road for them? Was she going to relinquish her marriage to a mistake she wasn’t aware she’d made? Hard questions, which she couldn’t answer after all this time.
