The First Lady's Choice

Chapter Twelve

Truth Hurts

Confrontations go wrong nine times out of ten...

To say I was distraught over the news that I learned would be a huge understatement. My mother isn't really my mother and my father wasn't the upstanding man that I believed him to be. After I asked my...Emogene whether my father had ever stepped out before, she all but snapped my neck for voicing such words. When all along she was nursing a bleeding heart from his betrayal, honesty would have been the ticket at the time that I asked.

My entire life feels like a big fat lie now that I have learned some interesting hidden details. Most folks would have called on some other family members to see if what I heard was true but there wasn't a doubt in my mind it was in fact true. Why would anyone lie or make up such a terrible story such as that? The real question is who all really knew the truth besides family.

Did all of their friends know the truth? Did the people we went to church with know I was a bastard child? There had been times that I would question whether I was adopted out of spite. Those allegations were always denied, now I know it was nothing but more lies added to the already growing stack. Outsiders only claimed Emogene and I were just too much alike that was why we butted heads all of the time.

My grandmother even tried to say it was because I was a daddy's baby and she was just jealous of our relationship. Now looking back, I had always believed that excuse the most because my father did dote on me. In my case, the riddle went a little something like, 'daddy's baby and mama's maybe.' What if all this time my depression issues had something to do with my birth mother's mannerisms.

What if my birth mother was mentally, psychologically, or worst physically ill? What kinds of illnesses were hereditary? At this point, I will never know because I know nothing about the woman, where she originated from, or anything of the sort. There were times when my brother would get so incensed with me and say such hurtful things. Now I understood why Melvin Jr. would lash out against me at times but one talk with my father those lashing stopped. They never went beyond regular brother and sister bickering's. So many things are unclear but at the same time, the things I always questioned were becoming abundantly vibrant.

"William, this is the third voicemail and hundredth time I have called. Please call me back. I really need to speak with you about some important things." I left him another voicemail and waited for him to return my call.

When I returned home, it was late and he was nowhere to be found. I don't understand what kind of business he attends to that keeps him away at all hours of the night. Of course, he could just be a chaplain at a hospital or something because he had said something of that sort at times. Now I hate, I had begun to tune him out when he gives me excuses for his absences.

"William?" I called out when I heard the garage door open and close. Since he didn't answer I went to meet him downstairs. Instead of being ready to light into him with questions, I just needed him to hold me.

"Deacon Tibbs?" Sadly, I was mistaken because the person in the house was not my husband. Why did this man have a garage door opener to our house? "What are you doing in my house?"

"Is William with you?" I asked when he only smiled politely, the questions were firing off quicker than he could answer I know but I had too many. Remembering I was only in a camisole and pajama shorts, I thanked the good Lord I had on a robe. Closing it tightly to shield my body from the weird deacon, I secured the sash.

"My apologies, I wasn't aware that you were home. According to Pastor you were to be out of town visiting your mother."

"I returned early but that still doesn't explain why you are here and William is not."