by Vera Roberts
“That’s settled, then.” My father sips his coffee before he wipes his mouth. “I want to talk to you privately about the shops and land.”
Daddy’s voice changed and it’s not the jovial, happy-go-lucky persona. He’s real serious about something. “What is it?”
“I’m going to leave everything to you when I die.” He states. “Everything is already set up. You’ll just need to talk to Alicia about the details of it all.”
Alicia is my father’s longtime attorney. She’s handled everything from a business and personal perspective. She also used to be his girlfriend at some point, but they both decided they were better off as friends and remained tighter than ever.
It was widely assumed I would take over once my father retired. He’s talking about death and dying and just killed any happy vibe I had. “Why are you telling me this on my graduation?”
“Because you need to know.” He takes another bite of pie. “That is all. I don’t want anyone to tell you any different. There is paperwork and will. All you need to do is file it with Alicia and that’s it.”
“Okay.” We drop the subject and start talking about other things. I can’t shake the feeling there was something amiss about this whole conversation. I will later find out there’s a reason why Daddy warned me.
~~~~~~
It seems listening to 80’s R&B hits different now.
Every love song reminds me of Cameron in some way. I hate a genre I love so much has been ruined by heartbreak. That is the very worst. Every song reminds you of the good times. Every heartbreak song reminds you of the bad.
I’m listening to “Nite and Day” and I think about our late-night phone calls where we played No, you hang up first with each other several times. We would talk about anything and everything under the moon and stars.
“Take Me With U” reminds me of how we went to New York on a whim and how Cameron spoiled me with a new wardrobe and trinkets to go along with it. We made copious amounts of love throughout that entire weekend.
“Heartbeat” takes me back to when we first met and hung out at the Waffle House. Cameron had a cool and collected demeanor about him back then. I was naturally drawn to how deep he was. He was the bad boy to my good girl.
I’m on Month Two Without Cameron and I’m starting to resemble a bit of the old me before. My appetite is back and I’m no longer moping around wondering if I made the right decision.
So many glorify the dope game and being a drug runner’s wifey. There is absolutely nothing glorious about that shit whatsoever. Yeah, someone’s pushing a nice whip and dope fits, but the DEA is always watching. Move too much money and they’ll give a welcome surprise by an early morning no-knock raid.
I’m more focused on my school work and preparing for graduation. After graduation, I’m going to straight to working Fresh Espresso. I don’t need any distractions right now.
Of course, that’s easier said than done. Every song, every emotion reminds me of Cameron. I haven’t even bothered stalking his social media because I’m trying not to care. But I also don’t want to unfollow him because…because I still care.
At least I’m graduating and I don’t have to worry about running into Cameron at any school functions or anywhere near the campus. I doubt any of his clients attend here given the state of his brother’s wife. I thought about his brother and that family dynamic. Why didn’t don’t Eric and Heather get involved? Surely, they have to know.
I shake the thoughts out of my head and push out a harsh breath. I’m knee-deep into getting ready for all of the graduation activities my Daddy is throwing. Tonight is just a shindig with me and the girls. Tomorrow, I’ll be with my family all day. The last thing I need are distractions from Cameron or anyone else, for that matter.
Still, I’m tempted to look at his IG account and see if he’s following me still. We’re playing the ignore game with each other. It’s so immature and yet, it’s so us. I decided to pick up my phone and just see for a smidgen if Cameron is following me. I have to know.
What I’ll do with said information is anyone’s guess.
Just when I open IG and head straight to Cameron’s account, I get a surprise phone call coming in from Morocco. Is that where Cameron is now? I don’t have to wonder why he would be in Morocco but I wonder if he’s safe doing whatever it is.
I swallow my excitement and answer the phone. The last thing I need is to give that man a bigger ego. “Hello?”
“Hello darling.” My cautious excitement gives away to grave disappointment. It’s not Cameron; it’s my mother. She calls every couple of months and that’s usually when she has a phone or a landline she can use.
Laurie pronounces darling as if there’s a h in it. Dahling. Maybe she thinks she’s Mariah Carey while she’s on her Lisa Bonet. I think she’s confused on whether she wants to be peace, love, and hair grease or the biggest diva of all time.
“Hello Laurie.” I’m cordial and polite. I have no reason to be mean to her. I still don’t really know her. “How are you?”
“I’m doing well, darling.” The h rolls off her lips. This is a new reincarnation of Laurie. Every time she has a new man, she adapts to him. If he’s into Guns N’ Roses, she’ll suddenly become an Axl Rose stan. If he’s super woke, she’ll start quoting Stokley Carmichael.
If he’s rich, however, she becomes Zsa Zsa Gabor.
I know these things because of our conversations. Any man she’s with, there’s a reason for it and it’s never because ‘they’re different.’ They always have to bring something out of her that no one else ever had before. She’s like a sponge and not necessarily in a good way.
She’s never in the same place for too long and when she’s there, she’ll quickly adapt to the customs and lifestyle of whoever she falls in bed with. Once she’s bored of the person (because she really doesn’t discriminate when it comes to dating), she’ll leave town and move to start yet another adventure.
She changes her number frequently but I like to think it’s because of creditors and exes she might have burned so I can never get a hold of her unless she calls me first. And even then, there’s no guarantee she’ll keep the same number for longer than a month or two.
I don’t know if I’m jealous or irritated with her. She has a nomadic lifestyle without the stress of actually being one. She never carries anything more than what can fit in a large duffle bag and she never stays in one place for very long.
She never has to worry about paying rent or pesky things like bills or a forgotten child.
I’m rather curious about this reincarnation of Laurie. I wonder how long she has been with this guy before she realized maybe the nomadic lifestyle wasn’t anything compared to receiving a Birkin.
“How’s school? You’re still in school, right?” She tsks as if she’s trying to think of something. “That one named after that woman, right?”
Laurie wouldn’t know a thing about Black history if it were presented to her in the form of cash. “I’m not attending Bethune-Cookman.” I politely correct her. “I’m attending Clark Atlanta and I’m graduating in a few hours, actually.”
“That’s my girl.” She beams with pride. “I always knew you could do it! And you’re majoring in…?”
“Business.” We’ve had this conversation numerous times and yet, it always seems like it’s the first time we’ve ever had it.
“Good, good.” There’s the long pause again. I briefly hear the whisper of someone else in the room. She must be telling her new sugar daddy about me and forgot details like what college and major I’m in. Joy. “How’s that going for you? You’re doing well, yes?”
Laurie has an accent that I’m not entirely sure where it comes from. It’s not British or German. I think it’s completely made up so she can sound more cultured. “I’m doing well, yes.”
“What do you plan to do with that major?” She asks. Again.
I bite my tongue and let out a deep, Negro spiritual sigh. I can thank Tesh for that. “I
plan to take over Daddy’s coffee shops.”
“Oh, that’s right. He owns that little business.” And there comes the snob attitude associated with fake wealth. The real wealthy know the value of a dollar, that’s why they can either be hella generous or hella cheap, but they’ll never look down on anyone building for themselves. I can thank Cameron for that. “How’s that going? Good, yes?”
“Yes.” If I bite my tongue any harder, I’m going to break it off.
“That’s good, that’s good.” More whispering. It sounds like someone is giving her instructions on what to ask. “And what about love interests? Are you dating anyone?”
This would’ve been the time I would’ve gushed about Cameron. The trip to New York. The bracelet I still have. How he met Daddy. How he said I love you first. How we shared a love for 80’s R&B and interesting Nicholas Cage movies.
Instead, all I have are memories. “No, not really.”
“Ah, I see. Well, you’re too young to date.” Another pause and some more whispering. The refrain was working my last nerve. “You have a birthday coming up. What would you like?”
Laurie actually forgot my birthday. It takes a special kind of woman to forget a child’s birthday, especially one she birthed. In all of the conversations I’ve ever had with my mother, it was the first time she’d suggested buying me something for my birthday.
Now I know this dude is really rich. “I’m good, but thank you, Laurie.”
I could hear the frown on her face. She’s never liked me calling her by her government name but she had yet to prove she was worthy of being called mother. “Very well. I’ll make sure to send something to you. Something lovely. You’re still a size 10, right? Or did you gain weight?”
I’m a size 14 now and I’m not entirely sure when was the last time I was a 10. Probably when I was 10. “You don’t have to, Laurie. But thank you.”
“Very well.” More whispering. “I’ll be home soon. I want you to meet someone when I arrive.”
“Okay.” My reaction isn’t of disappointment nor excitement. Laurie’s been promising me to bring home someone for years now. She never has because the relationship would end by the time my birthday arrived. I expect this one will as well.
“Be a good girl for me, darling.” There goes Mariah Carey again. “Give my love to your father.” The line went dead.
The sudden abruption surprises me, though it shouldn’t. The way Laurie treats me is the same way she treats everyone and everything else in her life: stay long enough to make an impact, but quickly exit so one wonders if it truly happened.
Eighteen
“Hey College Grad!” Hayley and Meadow comes in with more shopping bags, this time from Anthropologie. They’re known for their $200 jeans and $100 sweaters. I see Que was generous with his wallet and spent a small fortune on Hayley. Her closet is turning into a boutique.
“Hey,” I flip through Netflix and trying to figure out what I can watch that isn’t a sappy romance. Maybe I should watch something about a woman who plot revenge on a man. That seems more my cup of tea.
“What’s up?” Meadow drags the bags to her bedroom. “Ready for tonight?”
Tonight was supposed to be my graduation bash at the same nightclub where I met Cameron. It’s also the same nightclub Que owns. The odds of me running into Cameron or seeing him all boo’d up with another female isn’t lost on me. “Yay.”
Hayley sits beside me on the couch and moves my feet to the floor. Well, fuck you, too, bitch. “What’s up? I know you’re not still moping about Cam.”
“It’s only been two weeks,” I counter as Meadow rejoins us. “I’m allowed to mope.”
Hayley talks to Meadow. “She’s still moping about Cam.”
“Ah,” Meadow nods. “White boy really put it on her, huh?”
“First boyfriend,” Hayley sighs and I hear the slight dangles of her expensive jewelry, “first everything, really.”
“Okay, fuck. I’m right here.” I sit up, gathering my feet to my chest. “What the hell, guys?”
Hayley shakes her head. “I still think it was a mistake you two broke up.”
“I’m not dating a drug dealer.” I know Hayley doesn’t give a damn but I do.
“And so?” Hayley shrugs. “He’s a drug dealer, so what?”
“So what?” I feel like I’m in Bizarro world. “Don’t you think it’s fucked to date someone who ruins other people’s lives on the regular?”
“People ruin their own lives when they do drugs, Pooh.” Hayley runs a hand through her hair. “No one is forcing them to turn to drugs.”
“He’s supplying his own sister-in-law, his brother’s wife!” I’ll never forget how apologetic Robert was. Cameron is younger than him and it was clear to everyone Cameron owned Robert. “And I should look the other way?”
“You have that same energy for all those billionaires out there? All those people who own the online stores, those big box stores, those fancy designers who make their products for like ten cents and sell it to you for a grand?” Hayley shrugs. “You have that same energy to those people who pay their workers pennies on the dollar while they’re getting richer by the year? Those same workers who can’t get off welfare despite they’ve been at that same job for years? Girl, wake the fuck up! Everyone is a drug dealer. Some are legitimate and some aren’t.”
“So, I just shut up and eat my food while all of this is going on?” I don’t know why I thought Hayley would be the voice of reason. She is not giving up her Gucci just because Que is doing some underhanded shit. I should’ve known better.
“Let’s break it down…” Hayley bends over like she’s at some crap game. “You don’t want to be with Cameron, fine. Are you going to report him to the police? And what are they going to do? They might talk to him over a round of golf or some beers, but are they going to do anything? No, and here’s why – Cameron’s daddy is buddy-buddy with them. Mr. ‘I Support The Cops.’ Mr. ‘Stand Up and Salute the Flag.’ Mr. ‘All Lives Matter.’ You think they’re going to go against someone who has publicly support them, especially right now? Girl, you smoking that good shit!” Hayley shakes her head. “You report Cameron and the only person who will get in trouble is you, Taylor. And they won’t even come after you.” Hayley pauses and looks away for a moment. “They’ll target the next person closest to you.” She looks back at me. “Trust.”
Cameron spoke so highly of my father, I didn’t think anything of it at the time. Now I know better as a shiver creeps up my spine. “I can’t be with Cam.”
“No one says you have to but this is some business you really need to stay out of.” Hayley stands up and heads to the kitchen. “If this is who Cameron is, you need to take it or leave it. He will not change because it’s you.”
“Whatever,” I drop the subject. I feel like it’s a lost cause trying to reason with anyone, especially Hayley. Her and Que are still going strong and I’m not too naïve to think Hayley isn’t reporting back to Que in some form.
I guess we’ll find out everything tonight.
~~~~~
My graduation celebration isn’t so bad, after all.
Turning 21 has its benefits. I can legally drink and that’s about the extent of it.
As we’re living it up at the VIP section of the club, I’m wearing a tiara and a sash that says College Grad on it. The music is slammin’ and Hayley has bought drinks for our entire crew of girls. I know it’s Que’s money because Hayley doesn’t have any.
I’m not thinking about Que or Cameron, for that matter. It’s my born day and I’m happy to live it up with my girls. We caught the attention to some fine guys down beneath us and I have my eye on one deep chocolate brotha.
He has a nice, clean fade. Perfect white teeth, and a skin tone that tells me he would complement my brown. I immediately started wondering how that would look. As I made eye contact with him, I saw a familiar face pull up next to him.
It was a man who simply went by Lexus.
; He’s the most ruthless drug lord in the city. He controlled all of West Highlands, Carey Park, Grove Park, and Center Hill. It was rumored he was making his way towards Bankhead.
Lexus dressed just as nice as the car he took his name after. I never saw him looking like a regular dude. He was always fitted in Timbs, dark jeans, and a tight shirt that outlined his muscular body. He also had a perm on his head that was laid just right.
He was a charming man and that was why no one would believe he could take out an entire family and not even blink an eye. Rumor had it he controlled a few apartment complexes and owned everyone who lived in them. He was admired and feared at the same time.
Why in the hell do I attract these hood boogers? I must be one myself.
“I see someone likes you.”
Cameron.
My mouth gasps as the familiarity washes over my body. I knew the possibility of seeing him tonight was strong, but I didn’t realize how soon I would run into him. I turn around and gasped at how hot he was.
He wore a business suit with an open collar and looked every bit of an executive. The sexual energy shifted between us and I felt my breath become ragged. My heart sped up to ear-pounding levels, and I felt like I needed to hold onto something so I wouldn’t fall over.
“I am cute.” I give a small retort back.
Cameron closes the distance between us. “I think you’re beautiful and cute doesn’t quite describe you.” He pauses for a beat. “How have you been, Tay?”
“Good. You know, school and that’s about it.” I look at his appearance. It seems Cameron had became more attractive than before and I wasn’t sure how that was possible. “How are you?”
“I’m well. Thank you.” Cameron turns his attention to Lexus and the Mystery Man I was flirting with. His eyes are solely on them as he talks to me. “Congratulations on graduating. I knew you could do it.”
“You did.” I turn to him. “And thank you for the last bit of encouragement. I really needed it.” I see the interaction between the men and my nerves are a bit rattled. Cameron works for Lexus and now it all makes sense. A drug dealer always has a drug lord they answer to and Cameron is no different.
