by Leigh, Anne
“I know.” My mom might give me grief about fighting tonight, but again, it was only for show. I might get hit a few times and I’ll hit Niro more times or I will try to but there should be no bloodshed tonight. “She might not say it but I think she gets a kick out of it, too.”
Dad chuckled, water dripping out of his mouth, “Yeah, she hides her savagery.”
His left hand reached out to rumple my wet hair, “Make her proud.”
I nodded, “Yeah.”
Before jumping out of the water, he said, “Niro leans to his right when he takes a jab.”
“You giving me pointers now?” I ribbed. I knew my dad wouldn’t leave without telling me ways on how to beat Niro. It might be all for show, but I was his son.
He wanted me to win.
Always.
“No. Just making sure your ass doesn’t get beat and ruin your mother’s night. She wants grandchildren, you know.” His shoulders were shaking as he grabbed a large blue towel from the dry rack.
“Whatever.” Mom hadn’t been pushing for any little me’s, and I honestly didn’t want to give her ideas. She probably talked about it with my aunts in a similar way to how Aunt Sedona complained about not having any babies to babysit since Nic had no urges to add to the world’s population anytime soon.
“You need anything before I go pick up Kieran?” He eyed me and I shook my head.
“Nah, I’m good. I texted Kassius and he said that his mom’s been nagging his dad to leave since dawn. He’s not gonna be able to make it because of training,” I said as I put my hands on the concrete and lifted myself out of the water.
Auntie Brynn was supposed to go with my mom and Aunt Nalee to the salon, but Uncle Kieran had some last-minute business to attend to.
Dad put his dry shirt back on and walked towards the path of the kitchen, “Make me proud tonight, okay?”
I lifted my eyes towards the glass windows above the pool and answered him, “Always Dad.”
I had no doubts that I’d be ready to fight Niro tonight.
I wouldn’t put myself in the lineup, as the finale, if I wasn’t prepared.
I heard my dad’s retreating footsteps, and as he closed the door he’d entered in, I looked up at the sky.
It was a beautiful day.
A great day to celebrate the woman who’d given me life.
I was about to turn my gaze down when a big, fluffy, bluish-white cloud, taking the shape of an angel’s wings hovered by its lonesome in the sky.
It’d been years, closing in on five, but not a day went by when I didn’t think of her.
She’d have loved today.
She made a big fuss of Mom’s birthday.
My chest started to feel heavy, but the heaviness lifted when the cloud moved, as if swaying in the air, and I found myself whispering, “We miss you, Reecy. We miss you a lot.”
Alissa
“Ali, it’s been months! My, my, you’re getting more beautiful every time I see you,” Aunt Ava excitedly said as she hugged me.
“Thank you,” I smiled and enveloped myself in her hug. “You look amazing, Auntie. Happy Birthday.”
Her grey eyes, reminding me so much of her son’s, beamed back at me.
“Ali,” Uncle Milo said as he stood by his wife. He made a show of reaching his right hand out for a handshake and when I clasped his hand, he pulled me in for a hug.
Uncle Milo was a man of few words, but his eyes spoke volumes, and when he said, “Has my son seen you yet?” my confusion must have been all over my face.
Before I could ask why it mattered if Matteo had seen me, I felt a small hand on my shoulder.
“Baby girl, you said you weren’t going to be here tonight.” Mom’s violet eyes were wide and a huge smile covered her face. Turning to my dad, she asked, “Zander, did you know anything about this?”
Dad merely shrugged in his black suit and responded, “No clue.”
Mom raised her brows and muttered, “I don’t believe you.”
After two weeks of being back in the States, a week was spent at my parents’ home in Minnesota and the other week was halved between my sister who was in Boston for her residency, and the remaining three days I was getting much-needed girl time with my best friend, Geneva, in Kentucky. My best friend was trying to save a wildlife reserve in Irvington, Kentucky. Our schedules were hardly lining up these days, so any time I could be with her, I took it.
“Ali Galley,” Dad started, his blue-green eyes lit up in amusement, “how was your flight?”
“A little turbulent, but nothing the pilot couldn’t handle,” I said, feeling Mom’s hand on my shoulder. It didn’t matter if I was five or twenty, Mom and Dad would always treat me as their baby. Dad didn’t like it when I flew commercial, but he also didn’t bar me from making my own decisions.
My brother and sister were the same.
We knew that we had a private jet waiting for us, that could fly us to anywhere we wanted to go. But we were also considerate of the fact that other people needed it more than us flying on a whim.
I pecked a kiss to my Mom’s cheek, careful not to mess the makeup she seldom wore and said, “Enough about me. I’m gonna go see if Greyson’s here.”
I gave Dad a side hug and eyed the grey hair around his temple, “Daddy, you need to retouch the color.”
“What color?” Dad’s brows met in the middle.
“You’re getting greyer…older. Mom might trade you in for a better model.” I teased, as Uncle Milo put his left hand on my dad’s shoulder, saying, “It’s alright, I’ll be sure to ask Xavier to teach him how to use a crutch.”
A year ago, Mom and Dad got an emergency text that Uncle Xavier was in the hospital. To this day, we don’t know what really happened, all we knew was that Uncle Xavier fell from the bed and broke his knee. He had to wear a crutch for a while. Geneva and Greyson both said it was because their dad was practicing some Fifty Shades of Grey stuff on their mom.
Eeewww.
I loved Uncle Xavier and Auntie Nalee, but I didn’t need to know what went on inside their bedroom.
Dad said, “Do I really need to color my hair, babe?”
My mom returned his gaze with loving eyes, “I love you just the way you are.”
Annddd that was my cue to get out of there and look for my friend. Geneva couldn’t attend tonight because of work, so Greyson was the closest choice.
Mom and Dad were going to spend all night looking like they were each other’s main entrée. My siblings and I were used to it, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t awkward.
Dinner times couldn’t be over soon enough when Mom and Dad started to tease each other with their looks, especially when Dad came home after being on road games or when he had to be away for NFA-related meetings. Sofia, Nic, and I would eat our dinner as fast as we could; we didn’t want to endure the torture of being around our parents when they were all sticky sweet, lovey dovey. Don’t get me wrong, we loved that our parents love has lasted decades, we just didn’t want to be in the room when we knew that they just wanted to be alone with each other.
I kissed Mom and Aunt Ava on their cheeks and politely exited the conversation, promising Mom that I’d let her know when I was flying back home.
Now that Sofia, Nic, and I lived by our own schedules and away from our parents, Mom and Dad spent a lot of time texting and bugging us. I tried to respond back as soon as possible because I didn’t want them to worry. They spent their lives protecting us, and now that we were free to be on our own, it was a difficult concept for them to accept.
But they were trying.
And I loved them for it.
I missed the security of knowing that they were there all the time, so I called them every weekend. So did Nic. And Sofia, when she was out of her 24-hour shifts.
“What’s got you looking that way?” I heard him before I saw him.
Greyson.
His hand lifted and pulled me to his side, my feet came at their own accord. I’d worn
black heels for the occasion and the midi, sheath dress felt like second skin.
It’d been a while since I’d worn a dress and getting it on was a challenge especially since I didn’t have my sister or Geneva to help me with the back. I’d struggled to close the zipper, but I felt so accomplished when the metal teeth finally locked together.
I usually didn’t go for square necklines, but Mom had sent me a picture of the dress while I was still in India and I fell in love with it.
The double thin straps created the illusion that they held the dress up, but it was the nylon/spandex material that made my skin cling to it, creating a sleek silhouette.
“What way?” I grinned as Greyson returned my hug.
“Like you’re thinking about world poverty and what you can do about it,” Greyson answered. He looked great in his navy suit, the color accentuating his green eyes and the warm smile he had on his face was endearing.
I wouldn’t have gone to India if Greyson wasn’t with me.
I may be twenty, but that didn’t mean that I didn’t consult with my parents. I’d brought up India as soon as I heard about Berkeley offering the summer abroad program. Dad was against it. I couldn’t fault him. His sister was murdered in another country by an obsessed ex and he wasn’t there to help her. Mom had done a whole lot of convincing to get my dad on board with the idea. When Greyson said he could go, that was the only time Dad said okay. Then he talked to Greyson for an hour about what would happen to him if he let me out of his sight.
I could defend myself. Men may undermine me because I wasn’t muscular, but I could fight.
I grew up with a brother who mastered Jeet Kune Do and a sister who was a black belter in Kenpo.
I preferred Sanda and Kali.
I was fluent in both.
Dad ensured that all three of us knew how to protect ourselves. He was as proud of me when I did great in school as when I advanced to the next levels in martial arts.
“Did you talk to him about it?” I asked, my eyes lighting up with hope and expectations.
I hadn’t seen Matteo yet. He was probably chatting up all the ladies, alongside my brother. I’d seen Nic earlier and he already had a brunette holding his arm. My brother dated a lot, but he never brought a girl to our house. There were times when he introduced me to the girl he was dating when we saw each other during high school functions, but most of the time he kept to his own set of friends.
“Who’s he?” Greyson joked and I elbowed him, making him cringe, slightly.
“Matteo.” Just saying his name brought a tingle to my tongue. “What did he say?”
Greyson’s head tilted up at a blonde in a red dress so I elbowed him again.
“Ouch. Your elbows are like the wooden sticks that you love to hit me with.” He was exaggerating. The wooden sticks he was referring to were called “arnis.” They were used like swords in Kali; they looked like the nunchucks that Michelangelo from the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles used. The big differences were that the arnis wasn’t connected by a short chain at the ends and the arnis was made of long, hard rattan.
And I didn’t hit Greyson with them. He hit himself with the sticks when he tried to prove to me how easily he could use them.
My friend had no clue on how use the arnis/escrima sticks.
He might be well-versed in Taekwondo, but give him sticks and he was lost.
“What. Did. Matteo. Say?” I enunciated every word so that he’d know how serious I was. Greyson was a tease. He was worse than the 30-minute previews before a highly-anticipated movie.
He grabbed a sparkling cider from a server offering drinks, “Why don’t you ask him? Or better yet why not have your brother help you?”
“You know that Nic would just take over and he’d become lost in the details.” I loved my brother, but I really wanted to do this on my own.
I could ask Matty, err, Matteo myself, but it’d been years since we’d had a conversation longer than a pop song, so no, I’d rather send my friend to get a feel for things before I entered the fray.
Was I a coward? Maybe.
Was I annoyed that Matteo was the only reasonable choice for help on this matter? Slightly.
Was I looking forward to spending my summer with him if he agreed to this? Not really.
“Ali, why don’t you just ask him?” Greyson questioned and I looked away so he couldn’t see the emotions in my eyes.
Matteo and I were close.
Or we used to be.
Geneva was my girl best friend.
And Matty, Matt, Teo, he was also my friend.
He allowed me in his lonesome, broody world. I looked forward to summer and winter vacations with the Tanners because that meant he was going to be there. Because it meant that after texts and chats, we would be able to physically hang out with each other.
But all of that changed when –
“Hey,” I saw Greyson’s hand in front of me, waving me away from daydreaming about what had been, “I asked him…well, I texted him.”
Greyson and Matteo weren’t close. Not in the way that Matteo, my brother, and Kassius were close.
Greyson was closer to the women in the Tanner-Zobowski-Lockheed-Stone friendship tree. He was the youngest and by the time he caught up to the boys, they’d already formed a unique bond.
“He said he’ll think about it,” Greyson stated, taking a gulp from the glass he’d been holding in his left hand. He still looked super tan from our trip. My own tan was fading away, but Greyson’s was holding strong. We’d applied the same amount of sunscreen every time we went out on day trips. His skin just held onto melanin better than mine did.
“What exactly did you ask him? Did you tell him that I was asking?” I inquired, my feet digging into my heels as my skin felt prickly. As if someone was watching me.
“No…not really. I kinda said that a friend of mine wants to know if he could help her start something, like a foundation.” He shrugged his wide shoulders and waved a hand at another blonde.
Greyson and blondes.
They went like cookies and milk.
“Okay.” That sounded like a good deal. “How long til he tells you if it’s a yes or no?”
Greyson turned to me, and he ground on his teeth, “About that…”
Poker.
Out of all the card games, Greyson had to play and try to win this one.
I should have known.
Matteo didn’t grant any favors for free anymore.
He was as shrewd as his demeanor.
As cold as the gray suit that he was wearing that did nothing to conceal the darkness in his grey eyes and the indelible beauty of his angled jaw and the prominent ridges of his face.
His Mom’s party was in full swing. The hundred plus guest list surrounded the giant room converted into an intimate party.
Auntie Ava invited her closest friends and family to her party.
The list grew every year.
She and Uncle Milo were treated as royalty on this side of the world.
As they should be.
They had generous hearts and they’d helped so many people and families with the charitable organizations they’d founded and served throughout the years.
Mom and Dad spearheaded charities, too, and so did Uncle Kieran and Auntie Brynn.
But none of them were bigger than the T & T Foundations.
Our parents were playing at the roulette table, and I heard Mom’s scream as she collected chips.
No one was playing for money tonight.
After the dinner and a montage of all the charities that the T & T Foundations donated to were played on the big screen on stage, the party planner asked everyone to move in here.
A place of fun and games.
No bets were made.
Or I should say, no known bets were made.
Nic had already folded and he’d excused himself to the bathroom.
My brother wasn’t a card player.
He only played because they needed him
to fill the table.
I wasn’t a very good poker player either, so I had all my chips taken by Greyson in record time.
He’d reached for my chips gleefully and kissed my hand at the same time.
As if adding to the insult.
I heard Matteo say, “Are we playing or are we going to spend all night here?”
My brother, who had just returned to our table, asked before I could, “What’s your problem?”
It was obvious to all of us that Matteo was in a snit.
He didn’t have to say a word. Anyone who knew him could tell that he was Doom and Gloom throughout the night.
I wanted to say, “It’s your mom’s birthday. Can you smile for a minute at least?”
But no, I wasn’t given the chance to talk to him.
He’d been seated at the table opposite from ours, and although I caught him glancing over a few times, all he managed to say was “Hi” to me and then he left with the tall strawberry blonde in the red and white mini-skirt. I barely caught her name, Gem, when Nic had introduced us.
Gem looked bored at Matteo’s side.
She was exotically beautiful.
Tanned skin, blue eyes, hair the color of wheat and raspberries.
She reminded me of the Instagram models that Greyson loved to chat with.
I thought Greyson would be all over Gem, but to my surprise, my friend didn’t even check her out as was his nature when it came to buxom blondes.
I peeked at Greyson’s cards, hoping that it would be enough for him to win.
He whispered to me, “If I win this, you’ll owe me a panipuri.”
A giggle burst out of me and I said, “Really? I don’t even know how to make it.”
Normally talking and all sorts of chatter wouldn’t be allowed at poker games. But then again, this was a game between friends.
The only person who was stoic and acting like a real poker player was the one who was staring at me and Greyson with eyes that could cut Greyson’s panipuri to dust.
The Indian street snack was made of a round, hollowed deep fried bread, and filled with chutney, chaat masala, potato, onion, or chickpeas.
