by Love Belvin
“Yeah. Yeah,” Jackson agreed, nervously. His eyes focused in on me. “I heard you did the youth football camp here in Jersey.”
At first, I didn’t speak. This was weird.
“Yeah. Good times with the kids.” That was my PR response. I didn’t know how else to follow up.
He sat up at the table. “O-okay. I don’t want to take up too much of your time. I know you’re a busy man—congrats on your new contract, by the way. Glad you’re finally being welcomed back with open arms.”
The guy next to him nodded with a slight smile, in agreement. I gave a bow, as a way of saying thanks as I listened.
“Ummmm…” he tried again, using his fingers to communicate. “As you know I—I’m your fa—father…” Jackson couldn’t look at me when saying that. “…and I get we haven’t been in touch and all since you first got the Kings deal, years ago. I’ve tried to give you your space. You seemed to be turning out well.” He kept using those fingers. “Shank did right by you…as you can see. I’m happy for that…”
“Mr. Jackson, Mr. Bailey’s time is limited,” Chesney reminded him. “It was quite a feat for his fiancée to arrange this meeting today.” He was warning Jackson to get to the point.
I agreed. He’d been hitting me up for months and I was finally giving him the opportunity to tell me what he wanted.
Jackson nodded with closed eyes, head going up and down repeatedly. “Okay. I got it.” He looked over at the guy next to him. “I…uhhhh. I’ve got two boys. One is with me now. Jones.” He pointed to the guy. Oh… “He’s my baby boy…almost done with high school—big fan of yours, by the way. Well, my oldest one—Lamont—is twenty-three. He is—was in college—”
“I’m sorry, Trenton,” Jade jumped in. “Don’t you mean you have three boys and Lamont is your second oldest?” She tossed her head toward me and cleared her throat. “Your oldest son is who you’re addressing.”
Shit. He’s getting Jade, the beast…
My hand reached under the table for her thigh, squeezing it.
“I’m sorry,” Jackson bowed. “It’s just… It sounds strange, I’m sure to the room. And I don’t want to overstep.”
“Of course, not,” Chesney breathed, rolling his eyes.
I didn’t speak at all, studied the man’s features, wondering if he’s what I looked like. I never resembled my moms and her peoples. Everybody said I was my pops’ twin. Now, looking at him for the second time in my life, I wanted to see it myself.
“Ummm… Well, Lamont’s sick,” Jackson continued, eyes jumping across the table. “Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. He was diagnosed last year, and because he was in his last year of college, it ended his football career—he was not going as far as you, but was good at it. Committed. Skilled.”
“Okay, Mr. Jackson,” Chesney’s associate spoke up. Patel! I remembered. Paul Patel. I commented once how he had a middle eastern last name, but looked Asian. “Is it money you need?” He was just as cut throat as his boss, Chesney.
“No!” Jackson answered real quick. “Yeah. Medical expenses have grown out of control, and my wife and me are struggling to keep up, but I’m not asking for no handout.”
“Then what is it, Mr. Jackson, that you’re asking of Mr. Bailey?” Chesney asked.
Jackson took another deep breath, his eyes hit mine. “We got a Go Fund Me account, had fish fries, garage sales, the church been raising money, his school team raised money—we got a lot going on to help with the crazy bills flying in, left and right. My wife had to quit her job to help take him to these doctors and specialists—”
The kid next to him, my brother, held up a phone with a dude in the hospital bed. Tubes were running from his face and arms. I’d guessed that was Lamont.
“Yeah,” Jackson nodded toward the phone. “That’s my Lamont. He’s now at Hackensack with some doctors doing experimental treatments. Right now, things are stable, but at any moment…” His hands seesawed.
“How much you asking for?” I finally asked, wanting this to be over.
“It’s not how much,” Jackson made clear, and for the first time, I saw the desperation in his eyes. “I’m not asking for a handout. I just wanted to know—it would—” He shook his head. Then his eyes rolled up to me again. “If you can do a fundraiser in his name. I know your popularity would help a lot—”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Jackso—” Patel was interrupted by Chesney.
“Whoa. Whoa. Whoa!” Chesney pumped his palms in the air. “Mr. Jackson, you’re stepping into public relation waters. Mr. Bailey is a brand. He’s affiliated with long-standing, corporate giants that have vetted his associations. There’s no way he could casually start a Go Fund Me for a cause on a whim.”
“This is for his brother,” little Jones spoke up. “My brother. Ain’t no whim. Ain’t nothing random.”
“Random?” Chesney’s neck jerked back. “Whim?” He did it again. “Let us not use those nouns when your father here has never practiced a verb when it comes to one Trenton Bailey, son.” And there he was. The arrogant S.O.B. with those dramatic inflections.
I wasn’t in the mood to watch Chesney slaughter my pops and his son like a Javan tiger. Based on how Jade’s little leg was bouncing on her toes underneath the table, I knew she’d be the one who would enjoy the feed of their deaths the most.
“How much you need?” I asked again.
Jade’s neck snapped to face me. No need to look at her. I knew she wasn’t with it.
“Again, Trent. I’m not asking for a hand—”
“Of course, not,” Chesney cut in. Again.
“How much are the bills?” I asked over them all with a raised voice.
The room got quiet. My eyes were on Jackson, and for the first time, I saw a similarity. He was desperate and scared. This dude loved his son so much he was willing to come to New York, sit in a swanky office, in front of killer lawyers to ask for help from a son he never took on. He had to be desperate. No need to keep watching him beg.
“Just give me a figure. I don’t need the extra details.” I stared him dead in the eyes.
Jade squeezed my arm over her thigh.
Jones tapped his father, telling him to spit it. After squeezing his eyes closed and shaking his head, Jackson finally spoke.
“Eighty-two thousand, six hundred, seventy-four dollars,” he answered through gritted teeth.
I stood from the table and looked over to Chesney. “Cut it for a hundred K.”
The room was quiet as I turned to leave. From the corner of my eye, I could see John following me. Jade’s voice stopped me at the door.
“Congratulations on getting a new contract.” I heard when she pulled in a breath from her nostrils. “My husband came all the way here and got one sign of support from you, and it was about his lucrative job?” My eyes closed at that. And not because she’d started flipping, but because she’d let it slip again that we were married. She claimed me as her husband. There was no better feeling than that. Fuck not having my parents’ love and support. I had Jade. I was good. I couldn’t move to face the table again, though. “You knew about his community outreach with football camps. Did you know the only father he knew passed away?”
“Uhhh… Yeah…” Jackson stalled. “I’m sorry about Shank. I didn’t know how to bring that up.”
“Too late,” Jade spat. “I’m sure your son here knows he’s getting married—expecting his first baby.” There was a gap of silence, but Jackson came with nothing. “You could have asked for an invitation to the wedding…made a plea to be in your grandchild’s life—apologized for not being a father. But no. Your agenda today was to be a father. Just not to him.”
“Jade,” I warned with my chin to the ceiling, wanting this to end before she blew a gasket.
The money would be put to good use. There’s no way I could have my biological brother wasting away with my knowledge and not do anything. It wouldn’t be good PR if this got out. More than that, it wouldn’t be Christ-like to do nothing. To wh
om much is given, much is required. I was good with cutting the check to clear my conscience of Trenton Jackson.
“Don’t ever contact him again unless you’re ready to apologize for your near thirty years of complete neglect and nothing more,” she growled. The room was quiet again, and my fists clenched angrily because I couldn’t pick her little ass up off her feet and snatch her out of here like I used to because she was pregnant. “You had better be glad I didn’t know what this was about. Be glad he’s a Christian man and generous to a fault. Anyone else, your sorry ass would be tossed out by security the minute you uttered you only have two boys.”
“Hang on here!” Jackson spoke. “I said I didn’t come here for no handouts!”
When I heard movements of a chair, I leaped around to the table. I grabbed Jade roughly by the hand, but leaned across the table.
“The only reason I’m not feeling like a sucker right now is because I just found out you paid some type of child support,” I lied. “If it wasn’t for that, I would’ve never met with you today.” That part was true.
Whether it was forced or not, Trenton Jackson contributed something to my care. I didn’t know how much or how consistent, but I knew he did. It also meant something that he hadn’t tried going about this through the media.
I had recognized myself in my father. He wasn’t a total asshole. He was just desperate and needed help to protect what was his. Maybe I’d been left out of that exclusive circle, but he had some sense of dedication.
I looked over to Chesney again. “With stipulations, cut the check today.”
He nodded and I turned to leave the room, Jade’s little feet click-clacking to keep up.
“I was married,” Jackson spoke loud to get my attention. It worked. I stopped at the door again and turned to look over my shoulder. Jackson’s face was on the table, between his elbows, and his arms stood in the air. “When I met your mother, I was married and frustrated and stupid. We’d been trying to have kids for years and instead of me dealing with it the right way, I strayed. I met your mother at a bar.” His head came up and he looked at me. “A strip club. She wasn’t working there. Little did I know, she was there because her brother was working that night. Brenda Bailey wasn’t the most charming or flashy.”
He started with those hands and fingers again. “I’m sure I don’t have to explain the narrative to a handsome man of your popularity.” His chin lowered. “We had a few drinks. Flirted a little and I eventually left that first night. Then I came back the next. Brenda was there. She was even more friendlier. Things got wild and by the end of the night…” He looked over to his son, conscious about what he was copping to.
“We were in the back of my car. I didn’t go back to that bar for a couple of weeks. Guilt had me stay away. But my wife and I had another unlucky month and the way I handled it was going back to the bar. Brenda wasn’t there. Her friend told me where I could find her. She stayed in a little apartment with your brother, Trevor.” Shit… Something in my chest ripped. He couldn’t look at me. “Well… You can imagine what happened.” He waved his fingers.
Jade’s grip on my hand tightened and I could hear her breathing hard. I didn’t need her crying. I was trying to control my own emotions.
“I didn’t see her for a while after that night. Told myself I had to find a better way of dealing with my marital issues.” He shook his head slowly. “Two months later, I found myself back at the bar, not sure what I was looking for, but knew what I wanted. Shank was dancing that night and got off stage when he saw me. He yoked me up and dragged me into the back room. That’s when he told me about Brenda being pregnant. It wasn’t a negotiation session. After I explained my situation—at home—I was told what to pay and when.” He shrugged. “And I did. I paid.”
My mouth was dry, throat was closed with steel wool lodged in it.
“Yeah, but having you as a volunteer coach, at birthday parties—character witness at my trial woulda been better.” Then I looked at Jones. His mouth hung open, eyes wide with tear puddles as he looked at his dad then me. “I’ll lift your brother in prayer.”
By His stripes…
I turned and left the conference room.
I came bustling through the garage door with countless bags hanging from my wrists and hands. They were heavy and painful, so I dropped them all in front of the bench in between the door and laundry room and grabbed the ones needing to be addressed tonight. I walked down the hall to the kitchen, not even stopping. It was late and apparently, April had cleaned it. She’d been a big help around here with Kyree, even picked him up from school today and kept him while I was in the City with Trent, then running errands after.
I made my way into the dining room where there were place cards laid out over the table, mimicking the grand ballroom of LaChateau. As she’d been doing since RSVPs had begun pouring in, Tessie Bell had emailed me the latest responders. I began writing in their names where they should be placed as I pondered the meeting earlier with Trent’s father.
That was rough. I’d intended on being quiet, told myself to save all comments until we were alone. But when Trent consented to paying the man’s son’s medical expenses, I lost it. The man spoke to Trent with no familiarity at all, yet had the gall to ask him to fundraise. I was so incensed, my body temperature shot sky high. As I stood next to him and felt his palm mist and tremble as he fought to save face, I felt murderous.
But Trent being the benevolent heart he was, did more than grant his request of being the poster child of his fundraising. He paid off the debt caused by his brother’s illness and padded their father with more money. What’s to say Trenton Jackson wouldn’t come back for more? I couldn’t stand seeing anyone take advantage of Trent, and it seemed the two people who should be closest and most protective of him did it without conscience. I wanted to slaughter Brenda Bailey, but couldn’t due to her mental illness. I wanted my husband to break loose on Trenton Jackson, but instead, he figuratively turned the other cheek to allow more wrongdoing. I was engaging in an uphill battle that I knew I was losing.
And here I was, planning our wedding. Yesterday, I received Trick’s RSVP notification. It included Brenda’s. He’d kept his word. But even that sickened me. They could’ve kept the hell away from Trent and wouldn’t be missed by me. That included Brielle.
On my way home, I heard on the radio Brielle’s medical records had been leaked. In them were notes of an abortion. Several names were thrown around as to who could have impregnated the international pop star. My palms gripped the steering wheel to the point of pain and white knuckles when Trent’s name was thrown into the ring. The only upside to the ordeal was how meticulously private Brielle and her camp had been over the years. The public could only speculate. Proving it would be a difficult feat. But I knew the truth of the possibility and it boiled my blood. I couldn’t imagine Trent having a baby with anyone else, as crazy as that sounded. That first belonged to me. My regard swept down to my belly.
And now that you have it…
A trembling wave coursed my whole body from neck to toes. I sat down in a chair, trying to calm myself. Feeling dangerously warm again from anger, I kicked off my shoes. When I pulled my one foot over my thigh to massage it, my phone vibrated inside my purse. I dug for it.
Trent: The only money that means the most to me is what I’ll pay to keep you by my side. I’ll give it ALL just to have you. Please be patient with me J.
My belly rolled. It was her. She was kicking. I touched my tummy, feeling my daughter communicate to me. My daughter. That was the first time I referenced her as that. My left hand brushed down to the bottom of my belly while my right alternated between the left and right sides to feel where she was. That’s when it hit me: In the past month and a half, I hadn’t embraced being pregnant. I accepted it—couldn’t help but to with a growing belly. I’d even felt her kick on a number of occasions. But in this moment, experiencing her as her father made this emotional plea made it all real.
Trent:
I love you Jade
My face fell into my hand and I sobbed uncontrollably. I felt it from the pit of my stomach as it vibrated under my diaphragm. I groaned loudly, feeling a flush of emotions I’d been keeping in.
“Jade!” I recognized April’s panicked cry, but I couldn’t look up. Didn’t want to. I was tired. “Jade!” I felt her hand on my shoulder then her soft meaty arms. “No. No. No, honey. Don’t do that. Please talk to me.”
I couldn’t stop shaking or crying. This was different from my hormonal outburst. This was pain seeping from my heart…my eyes, mouth.
“I can’t…do this,” I sputtered. “I can’t do this.”
“Jade, move your hands from your face.” She tried prying them. “If you can’t breathe, you can’t speak.
I allowed her to remove my hands and my head tossed back as I tried to stop crying.
“Is it wedding jitters?”
I shook my head. “Today,” I tried. “Trenton Jackson…”
“Okay. What did he want?” When I wasn’t speaking fast enough, she asked. “How much?”
It was more than that, but I hadn’t the voice to articulate it all.
“He got more than he…deserved and I’m feeling like a bitch because he shouldn’t have gotten…anything!” My eyes found hers. “I can’t do this, April. I thought…I could handle it, but I can’t.”
They say be careful what you ask for, and I was learning it to be true. I wanted the man and whatever he brought with him. But the fame, nasty hate-wishers from his celebrity, his former lover, neglectful parents, and obvious naivety were becoming too much for me. On top of that, I was carrying his child, something he didn’t need right now—none of us needed right now. My reputation as a jealous, ill-tempered lover of his amongst his friends and family would continue to spread. Once again, consequences were returning to collect on former poor decisions.
Seducing a man while he tried helping you and your son is coming back to bite you in the ass…
“What can’t you do, Jade?” she asked.
