“Yep.”
“Then why would he stop by?”
Rashaad spoke fast. “Because, I asked him to and he said he would.”
“It’s okay, Rashaad. I know what you’re trying to do. Besides, I’ve gotta leave early in the morning.”
“Mom, I’ll be right back. I’ve gotta talk to him. In private.”
“Rashaad.” Mercedes looked at him like he need not bother.
“Be right back.”
She raised her hands in surrender as he left.
~~
By twelve midnight, Rashaad walked back in the room, turned on the light and walked into the bedroom where Mercedes was.
“Mom.”
“Yes.” She was lying down, but very much awake.
“I talked to Dad.”
She looked over at her son. “Good.”
“He was in a rare mood. He actually wouldn’t stop talking. Told me to settle down and get one woman to come home to and stop playing the field. Told me I’ve gotta have a safe place to lay my head when everything gets crazy.”
Mercedes look pleased. She adjusted herself so she could sit up. “Good for him. I agree. Having a home and stability is critical. Your fame is tough enough. Being single and famous is harder than people think.”
“He also said what you thought he would. That I should walk in my own shoes, not his. That I should get out of his shadow and make mine big enough for the next generation.”
“Oh, he was on a roll, huh? I’m glad.”
“And mom?”
“Yeah.”
“Dad was drinking. Cognac.” He looked let down.
Her brows lifted. “He was not.”
“He was. He needs to come home. If he doesn’t, all of that mess will start up all over again.”
“Oh my God.” Her voice was sad.
“He’ll be back in rehab. I think it’s Grandma. And it’s you. And his retirement. He’s missing his career.”
“I’m just shocked. I mean, he hasn’t had a drink in twenty years, or so I thought.”
She was quiet.
Rashaad just looked at her.
She said, “He vowed to never die the way his dad died from damage to his liver. It’s like the sins of his father won’t go away. You know your dad talked about your granddad’s drinking, and his own drinking when he was interviewed on BET. And he mentioned it in his book. Mason promised me he’d be different in honor of his dad. And he promised himself.” The color had drained from her face.
“Star’s in the room with him. She’s gonna stay the night. She heard everything he said to me. We both told him to come home.”
“Really? Star, too?”
“Yeah.”
“We’ll see.” Mercedes gave an exhale.
“Well, I’ll let you go to sleep. I just had to tell you.”
“I’m glad you did, Son. I’m glad you did.”
~~
Sleep didn’t come for Mercedes. Insomnia did. Again.
Through the night she thought and worried and wondered, tossed and turned and remembered. Remembered the morning she thought she smelled brandy on Mason’s breath after he drank from a coffee mug. The same day he was about to go to the meeting about the city council vacancy.
Rashaad was asleep in the other bedroom when Mercedes got up. She went to her laptop in the still of the dark room, logged into her email, and created a new message to Mason.
Mercedes swallowed hard, and fought away her emotions, reminiscing on the good times and wishing things were still the way they were before the Las Vegas trip. She typed, “The sweetest days I’ve found, I‘ve found with you,” reminiscent of the song Mason had Kenny Rodgers sing to her in person on their anniversary seven years ago.
She clicked send, logged off and headed back to the bed, missing the way there were, not so very long ago.
27
Venus
“. . . seduce him into your life with money . . .”
That Monday, Venus had not left.
She stood her ground and claimed her home and family.
When Claude came back that night with Skyy, she was at home being a mother and playing housewife. She slept in their bed, just as Claude did, though each half of the bed was like two separate sleepers. No one said a word and no one made spousal advances.
This particular night, it was almost eleven in the evening and Claude was not home yet, which was becoming more and more common for him, though it had never been before.
Without bringing things up again, his usual passive-aggressive behavior showed up as a stand in for what words did not say: he was angry, he was hurt, and he was about at his wits end.
But she wasn’t.
Venus was up. She had already taken a relaxing aromatherapy bath. And she had gone through a few boxes in the kitchen that she had asked the movers to leave for her to unpack. One was full of fragile stemware and china that she inherited from her mother who passed many years ago.
Tonight, what had been on her mind was to tell Claude what she did not have the nerve to tell him over the phone.
She sat on the cranberry loveseat in the den.
Claude came in through the front door after parking in the driveway as opposed to the garage next to her car. It seemed to be his way of saying even their cars could not be too close together. As if that was too intimate.
She said loudly after hearing him close the door, “Hello.”
“Hi.” He walked from the living room into the den where she was.
“Did you eat?” She had made his favorite shrimp and chicken fettuccini.
“Yes.” He wore light gray dress pants and a white dress shirt. His plum tie hung from his pants pocket.
“Cameron’s gone again?” he asked.
She just laid it out. “Honey, Cam moved out this morning. I wanted to wait until you got home to tell you.”
He actually just shook his head. “I’m not surprised. I guess he’s got himself a sugar momma now.”
“Maybe. He moved in with Penny.”
“You have her number?”
“I do.”
“Call her. Please.”
Venus took her phone from the sofa cushion, dialed up Penny and extended her hand for him to take it.
He did not take it. “Put it on speaker.”
Venus held it up toward him as he stood next to where she sat.
“Hello?” Penny’s greeting was bright and cheery, even considering the lateness of the hour.
“Penny?”
“Yes. Hi, Mr. Wilson.”
“Listen, I know my son is there. I know you let him move in with you.”
“Yes, he’s here.”
“So, you’re gonna take care of him I guess?”
“No. He can take care of himself.”
“With what?”
“He’ll have to tell you that.”
“No, I’m asking you. You’re the one who just said he can take care of himself. You must know how.” His tone was semi-smartass as his anger escalated.
Her tone was sweetness and light. “Yes, I do. Mr. Wilson. I understand your anger.”
“No, you don’t. Do you have any children his age?”
“Older.”
“A son?”
“Yes. Two.”
“Well, I’m a man. I don’t know about your son’s father, but I need to raise my boy to be a man, making sure he has a chance at life, with an education and a future. He needs to experience being the head of the household so he can take on the responsibility of his family. Cameron is being taken care of by you in your household. He’s a young man, actually a boy. You cannot rob him of his manhood and seduce him into your life with money, and no doubt sex, and expect me to be okay with it.”
“Mr. Wilson. Your son is a man. He’s making his own decisions. I haven’t offered him anything.”
“You offered him a roof.”
“He asked to stay here.”
“You’re old enough to be his mother.”
She explained, “I am. But I’m not his mother. I’m his girlfriend and I have no problem with that, neither does he, neither does my family. But you do, and I understand that. Cameron can’t live his life for you based on your life-wishes and wants for him. He has his own. And I think he’s more of a man in standing up for his wants than trying to fit into the mold that you’ve carved out for him. With all due respect.”
Venus still held up the phone.
Claude still stood over her. He gave a slight nod. “Well, I see you can be very convincing. I’m sure that turns him on. Sounds like he’s right where he needs to be. I hope he gets himself together. But I’ll tell you one thing, and you can tell him I said so; he’ll never get another dime from me or spend another night under my roof, ever. Since he wants to be a man he can be one. And you might want to take off the man-hat you’re wearing, because you’ll soon find that unless you hand it over to him, he’ll just be another son. You two have a good evening.”
“You too, Mr. Wilson.” She was still easy breezy.
“Oh, and by the way, find another realtor. My son may need your money, but I don’t.” He stepped away and Venus hung up. He said with tightness to his words, “I’ll be damn. That rich bitch has got her a boy toy, and now she’s talking shit.”
Venus scooted back. “Claude.”
He turned to her. His eyes were focused. His face was firm. “Venus, let me tell you something while I’m at it. Bottom line with us, I think you might be the reason Fatima was killed. And with that thought in my head, I can’t even look at you.”
She said, looking defensive, “I told you, I’m not. I didn’t tell Owen anything about where we were going the night before, and I didn’t tell him we were going to Mason’s house. Mercedes told you back then that Owen wanted Fatima to run off to Vegas with him and get married the night before. The night we all ended up together in that hotel room. She’s the one who told him she was coming over to Mason’s house for Thanksgiving and couldn’t see him. Not me.”
“See, I just might have to go and see him again, just to cuss his ass out after I ask him some questions.”
“Owen is the devil. Straight up. And you’re buying into his lies just like he wants you to.”
He leaned against the wall and took his tie out of his pocket, tossing it along his neck. “His lies, huh? I was living my life thinking I had a woman I could trust who was into me and only me as I gave her the good life. But it turns out you and Fatima were whores. She was screwing this crazy Negro who turns out to be Cameron’s father, and you and her were both freaking him, you were backstabbing her by wanting me all along, and you told him every move the three of us made the night before she died.”
He continued, “That makes me wanna go crazy. All this mess was going on and I had no idea. I bond to you after Fatima dies, and we get closer through grieving over her, and next thing I know, while we were in Vegas I popped the question and that was that. But I will tell you this, if Owen is making this shit up he needs to write a book and give Eric Jerome Dickey a run for his money because this mess is too twisted to be lies. He doesn’t seem that bright.”
Venus’s eyes were large. Her words were even larger. “Well, they are lies. They’re lies and they’re ridiculous. Years ago you apologized for blaming me for all the secrets Fatima hid from you. I left you back then because I felt like a replacement living in the shadow of Fatima. You said you felt alone and broken and begged me to come home. Well, here I am, seven years later, and we’re going through the same damn thing again living with the ghost of Fatima. When I had a miscarriage back then you said we’d rebuild our family and you told me you could love me the way I needed to be loved.”
“That is what I said,” Claude retorted. “But those two letters from a prison inmate changed everything. I don’t know you. How do I love someone I don’t know?”
“What do you mean, you don’t know me? I’m the mother of your child. I took on Cam like he’s my son. Even though he hated my guts, I stayed and worked past off of that. I’ve shown you a whole lot more over all these years than two letters should be able to destroy. That is if you’re really done with the whole Fatima thing. You told me I will always be your wife, and that even though she died, we live on and have to be happy. This is not what happy feels like, Claude.”
He stepped away from the wall. “Yeah well, not only do we live on but Owen’s ass lives on, too, and he keeps reminding me that I might be sleeping with the enemy.”
“The only enemy is Owen. He needs to be reported at the prison for sending letters like that. I thought they screened mail. This is way past sick. Yes, you do need to go see him, and I’ll go with you. I’ll put everything I love on this, Claude, even on Skyy. I did not sleep with or tell Owen anything. The first threesome I ever had in my entire life was with you and Fatima on your birthday. Now you either believe that, or you don’t.”
“I don’t.” He said it almost mocking her.
“So you’re serious, like you said the other day, you want me to leave?”
He reached in his other pants pocket. “I’ve arranged for you and Skyy to stay in a house in Newport Beach that I found for Penny. I ended up renting it for you today.” He walked to her. “That way Skyy won’t have to switch schools again. It’s furnished. Here’s the address. Here are the keys. I’ll take care of everything.” He placed a piece of paper and set of keys on the coffee table before her.
She didn’t even look at them. “Taking care of everything but you and me, I guess.”
He walked away and out of the room. “Goodnight, Venus.”
She snatched the keys and sprung to her feet. “Where are you going?”
“To bed.”
She put her hands up. “So that’s it. You just hand me keys and kick me and your child out and you can actually sleep?”
He got to the stairs and began to go up. “Oh, you can best believe I’m sleeping in my bed. You can come up and go to sleep when you’re ready, like we’ve been doing, but only for one night. I don’t expect you to leave until tomorrow. My mom always called you Fatima, anyway. Maybe she knew something. Like maybe you can’t turn a ho’ into a housewife.”
Her eyes offered a swift kick. “Fuck you, Claude.”
He stopped and turned around, this time pointing with his finger. “I won’t be letting that happen either. No matter what, I sleep in my bed in my house. But there’ll be no more of that with you.”
Her words bolted from her mouth. “This is my house, too. I am your wife. And anyway, where have you been these last few nights?”
He looked toward their daughter's room. “Keep it down. You’ll wake up Skyy. We already have one screwed up child. We don’t need two.” He continued up the stairs to the landing.
She took the stairs fast and threw the house keys at him and ran up close to his back with her fist balled up. She missed her target. The keys hit the wall.
He spun around. “If you touch me, I will hit you back.”
She stared with fire in her expanded eyes like she was seeing a stranger, trying to figure out how the man she loved could be eyeing her like he wished she was dead. “Owen won.”
Claude said nothing. He turned around and went into their bedroom, silent, but the entire language of his body still said, try me.
Venus just stood at the top of the stairs in the heat of her pain and said, “Still in love with a dead woman.” She looked toward the door of their room. Her foggy eyes moved down the hall toward Skyy’s room. And she made herself go back downstairs and over to the box she had unpacked in the kitchen. She repacked it.
She looked up as if she could see the sky, up toward her best friend-ghost, who was no longer in their bedroom but still in her life and she said, “You win, too.”
28
Sequoia
“. . . clicking VIEW RESULTS.”
It had been nearly a week since Kyle Jr. was home with Sequoia, Torino and TJ.
Kyle was able to get Colette released from the hospital, and
she was at home with him at his place in Northridge.
Sequoia and Torino took time a few nights earlier to swab Kyle Jr.’s mouth and they sent the kit overnight to a genetic testing lab in New Mexico.
She was concerned that the time she spent convincing herself they would all be a happy little family of four was not quite coming together because of one homesick seven year-old named Kyle Jr.
“Kyle Jr., now let TJ have time on the DS, too. I told you we’ll get you one next weekend.”
“But he played with it all this time and I just got it.”
She said, “I’ve seen you with it most of the morning. Now give it to him like I said.”
“Here,” Kyle Jr. said with an edge, half shoving it into TJ’s stomach.
“Ouch.” TJ looked surprised. He eyed his mother for help. “Mom.”
Sequoia was firm. “Say you’re sorry and hand it to him the right way. TJ give it back to him.”
TJ did, looking sad.
Kyle Jr. took it and then handed it back. “Here.” This time his tone was down a notch. Slightly.
“Say you’re sorry.”
“Sorry.” Kyle Jr. got up and ran toward his room, yelling, “I hate it here. I want my mommy. I want my daddy.”
Torino came into the family room, interrupted from his phone call, looking impatient. “What the heck was that about?”
Sequoia explained, “He shoved the game at TJ and I made him apologize.”
Torino shouted toward the bedrooms, “Kyle Jr., come back in here. Now!”
Kyle Jr. walked back in at a snail’s pace, looking at the floor.
Torino asked, “What’s going on with you? Everyone’s trying to be patient, but I won’t have you being mean and disrespectful. Do you understand me?”
He nodded.
“I asked you a question. In this house, we answer with words.”
“Yes.”
“Now you two play nicely.” He gave a stern look to them both.
TJ just looked at his brother.
Hot Girlz: Hot Boyz Sequel Page 18
