“Can I see my dad?” Kyle Jr. asked, with his lip poked out.
Torino looked like he wanted to say no so bad, but he said, “Yes. Yes you can, actually. Hold on. Let me check and see when that’s gonna happen. You stay right here with TJ.” He then said to Sequoia, “Baby, I’m going upstairs. Pick up the home phone down here in a few seconds. Keep an eye on them.”
“Okay.”
He ran up to their bedroom. The sound of the door closing was loud.
Sequoia gave it a minute and then picked up, hearing the phone ringing.
“Hey,” Kyle said.
“Hey, Kyle.”
“Yeah.”
“Sequoia’s on the line, too.”
She said, “Hi, Kyle.”
“Hey.”
Torino asked, “What’s going on over there? How’s Colette doing?”
“A lot better. I was gonna call you. Do you think I can come and get Kyle Jr.? I took some time off work. Colette will be here, too. I won’t leave the two of them alone.”
Torino said, “Okay. That’s fine. But I want you to know I filed for sole custody of him until Colette gets through her problems.”
“I understand.”
“So, you two are that cool now?”
Kyle explained, “Man, just gotta keep it real. She and I are gonna take another stab at this. I can’t leave her to get through this by herself. We’ve been together a long time. Been through a lot.”
“Okay. But what’s old girl, Yasmin, got to say about that? And your brother’s gotta be upset.”
“Yasmin is pissed but, hey. I gotta do what I gotta do.”
Sequoia said, “Uh-huh,” as though moving on from her stuck-up self was at least one thing she agreed with.
Kyle continued, “And yeah, everyone’s mad that I missed the wedding, including my brother. This whole thing could’ve been worse if I wasn’t here for her.”
“With all the stuff you told me about her, I just don’t know. Her issues are the very reasons you filed the restraining order.”
“Torino, you should see her. She’s docile and beat down. They’ve got her in mandatory therapy, which wouldn’t have happened before, and we’re gonna go as a family. She finally admitted some things to me. She was born in prison. Colette always said she didn’t know where her mom was. Turns out her mother was a pimp. She’s doing life for killing one of the female hookers she fell in love with. And Colette’s father, whoever he is, is some John. Colette’s anger has been eating her ass alive. She’s way past depressed.”
“That’s gonna be tough to work through. You ready for all that?”
“Yeah, I’ve gotta be. Everything happens for a reason. I just need to get her some time with Kyle Jr. right now. We both need it. I miss that little dude so bad, I just can’t tell you. Can I talk to him?”
“Yeah.” Torino said to Sequoia, “Baby, put Kyle Jr. on the phone, please.”
“Okay.” She called, “Kyle Jr. Your dad is on the phone.” He ran to her. She extended him the phone. “Here.”
He took hold of the receiver. “Daddy?” He evolved into full on crying again, like he was being burned at the stake. “Will you come and get me?”
“Yes, Son. I will.”
“I don’t like it here.” He cut his teary eyes away from Sequoia, fidgeting with his Hot Wheels toy. “This house is all sparkly and new and fancy. And they’re mad at me.”
Sequoia looked at him like, oh, please.
Kyle said, “Stop it. Now I know this is hard, but they’re nice people and they care about you. They’re trying to make you comfortable. You’ll get used to it. And you will be polite.”
Kyle Jr.’s sentences fired away, one after the other without a break. “I want Mommy. I wanna come home. Are you at home now? Did you come back home? I asked Mom and she said you wouldn’t, but you did, right?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Can I talk to my Mommy?”
“She’s sleeping. I’ll be there in about an hour to get you.”
“Okay, bye.” Sequoia took the cordless back and headed to the office while Kyle Jr. ran off, even skipping like he had morphed back into happy-land just that fast. He even told TJ, “My dad’s coming to get me and take me home.” It was as if he was bragging.
TJ simply said, “Uh-huh.”
Torino said, “Okay, dude. See you in a minute.”
Sequoia added, “Yeah, we’ll have him ready.”
“Bye.”
They hung up and Torino came back downstairs.
Sequoia was in the office sitting at her desk on the computer and the boys went into the family room right next door.
She and Torino looked at each other and she said, “Kyle coming to get him isn’t such a bad thing. This hasn’t been easy.”
“We knew it wouldn’t be. Kyle Jr. just needs time.”
“He needs his mom and dad. Speaking of that, I’m checking on those results. I signed up for online access.”
Torino sat on the edge of the desk. “Oh? I thought they had to mail it back.”
“Not anymore. They won’t tell you over the phone, but you can select online order status.”
She typed away and clicked the mouse and maneuvered her way through the website, clicking VIEW RESULTS. “Let’s see.” She read each word closely.
“What does it say?” He tried to figure out which part she was reading.
She scrolled through a section of the page with her fingertip. “It says Torino Wilson. Negative results.” She looked up at him. “Torino, you are not the father.” Her face was not shocked.
His head darted back and his eyes doubled in size. “What? You’re kidding.”
“Nope.”
He stood and looked over her shoulder, saying, “Let me see.”
She pointed, “It says right here under the summary, Not a paternity match. To get further, more accurate results, the mother’s DNA may be required.”
“Oh, shit. What have I done?” he stepped back.
She swiveled her desk chair toward him. “You’ve got a son who you’re paying child support for based on Kyle’s suggestions to get him away from his mother, when even Kyle couldn’t stay away from her.”
“And I’m trying to file to get full custody of a child who isn’t even mine. I knew it. Dammit. Why didn’t I stick to my hunches?” He walked over to the window and stared outside. “I didn’t think she could’ve used any sperm from a condom. I should’ve fought this and just taken the court ordered test.”
She asked, wanting to say I told you so, but didn’t, “So, what now?”
“We get him ready for Kyle to pick him up.”
“You telling him?”
“I am. One-on-one, in person. Not only am I telling him, I’m going to suggest he get a paternity test, too.”
TJ yelled from the next room. “Mommy, he hit me.”
It was Torino who said to him, “I’ll be right there.”
Sequoia stood up. “I’ll pack his things.”
29
Mercedes
“. . . Forever One.”
Mason had been back and forth, coming home regularly, mainly to check the mail and then he would head back out to his place in Leimert Park.
Mercedes tried and tried to get used to him popping in and out, and tried and tried to be patient. It was reluctantly becoming a way of life. She felt helpless yet waited for the love of her life to come back around.
She went to work early on a Sunday morning so she could catch up on her unattended projects.
She sat at her desk when to her surprise, Mason called.
“Hi,” she said, half excited, half not.
“Hi. What’s up?”
“Nothing.” Everything was frozen but her mouth.
“Cedes, I’m at home.”
“You are?”
“Where are you?”
“I’m at the office.”
He asked, “This early? On a Sunday?”
“I came in at five. I have some thin
gs I need to get done.”
“I want us to go to church.”
“You do?” Her eyebrows showed shock. “This morning?”
“Yes. The eleven o’clock service.” He sounded matter-of-fact, as though they had not missed a Sunday of church ever.
Mercedes felt a tinge of warmth thawing out her inability to move. She turned away from her desk, looking at the wall clock. “Okay.” She wanted to say, I wish you’d told me earlier, but considering everything, she didn’t. “It’s eight-thirty now. I’ll be home soon.”
“Okay. Bye.” He disappeared with a click.
She simply shut down her computer, got up and headed out, walking out a little bit faster than when she walked in.
She prayed that it was not a dream.
~~
Just before ten-thirty, both wearing royal blue suits without even planning to, Mason and Mercedes Wilson arrived at the church in Mason’s Corvette. He parked, turned off the ignition and got out. She sat in the passenger seat and waited. Instead of him coming around to her door right away, he hesitated. She still waited.
She wondered who he could have possibly been with who would have allowed such nonsense. He then came around and opened the door. “Thanks,” she said as she got out, although he did not extend his hand to her as he always did before.
They headed inside of the sanctuary, each holding their Bibles, and they sat in their usual seats in the front row. The choir began a rendition of “Victory” by Yolanda Adams led by the Rev’s energetic wife. Some people stood and sang along. Within minutes, Mercedes stood and sang, too. Mason didn’t. “Truly I’ve been through the storm and rain, I know everything about heartache and pain, but God carried me through it all, without His protection I’d surely fall,” and within minutes the song went from full effect to winding down, with most of the congregation singing, “I got the Victory, yeah, yeah, yeah,” over and over. Mercedes noticed Mason still seated, clapping, barely nodding with a stoic face.
Once the song was done the applause for the choir led into applause for the Rev as he approached the podium. Mercedes remained standing out of respect. Mason stood out of respect, as well.
“Well now, you may be seated.” Everyone did. “Aren’t you glad you didn’t let that little voice within win this morning? The voice that said, ‘I’ll go to church next week, I’ll sleep in a little longer, I’m too tired to get up, there’s a sale at the mall, I can’t miss that, I’m gonna watch football, some kind of football, it’s Sunday, I think I’ll wash my car or wash the dog, or wash down the driveway.’ You need to wash your soul and come on and go to church, because you sure would’ve missed that song. The choir is on fire today, God bless their beautiful souls. I’m telling you. I’m so glad to see you here this morning.” The Rev glanced around at the many rows of churchgoers, and his eyes spied Mason and Mercedes. He pointed and smiled, and kept his glance moving.
“The topic for today is Turning Your Pain Into Power. When you’re hurting and broken, in labor, going through growing pains, having contractions and you feel like you just can’t go on, don’t quit. Push. Push on and give birth to your vision, your family, and your dreams.
“God will hold up when you’re broken. He loves to take away your shame. The payment for our sin is the precious life He gave. You must ask the Lord to let the light from the lighthouse shine on you. It will. There’s light in the morning, just as sure as the sun rises, the darkness doesn’t last long. Today’s a new day. In your life, in your business, with your children, with your health, and in your marriage. You stand together, accept the differences, and realize the grass ain’t always greener. Sometimes you think you’re sleeping with a cubic zirconium, and you get out there and sleep with the so-called diamonds, and suddenly that CZ at home starts looking like a brilliant twenty-carat diamond just like that. You’d better realize you’ve got the rock now. Somebody else might wanna step up and buy that diamond you thought was a dud. As soon as you step away, the infiltrators will be right there. Your trash will gladly be their treasure.”
Mercedes took in every word, smiling.
The Rev continued and nearly forty minutes later, the pianist began to play ever so subtly, signaling the wind down.
“Don’t risk it all by allowing temptation to tempt you. Sometimes what seems like the end is only a disguised blessing to test the heart. Sometimes you won’t be given to until you’re broken down. Your bank account, your relationship, your back. God makes the broken masters at mending. See your brokenness as a blessing. Without it you won’t grow. You can’t endure being married thirty, forty, fifty years without being broken. Ask an older couple who’ve been together for decades have they ever wanted to leave. Did someone cheat? Did someone lie? Did someone hurt them? Yes. Yes. Yes. But they’ll say they forgave and stayed. The reward comes in the morning to those who don’t walk away. Leaving is the easy part. The hard part is to just stand. Stand for your union, stand for your children, stand for your vows, stand for your life. Stand,” he yelled.
Most of the congregation stood and applauded. Mercedes fed off of Mason’s reaction and they sat, clapping in their seats.
As the Rev stepped away from the podium, a woman came down from where the choir sat and stood at a microphone. Her voice was loud and deep. “Can’t give up now, ladies and gentlemen. Can’t give up now.”
The music from the song by Mary Mary began and Mercedes nodded her head to the beat and sang the intros and the first few stanzas. “I just can’t give up now. I’ve come too far from where I started from.” By the time the third chorus was sung, most were on their feet and this time it was Mason who stood, clapping his hands to the beat, singing along, “Nobody told me the road would be easy. I don’t believe He brought me this far to leave me.” This was a song that Mattie sang to her sons while growing up. It was also the song that Mattie reminded Mason of when he first started playing professionally.
Mercedes knew it. She stood, her face flushed, blinking a mile a minute to fan off her emotions, clapping as the chorus was repeated, and they sang together. Mason paused from clapping and he took Mercedes’s hand into his. They continued to sing. Hand in hand. Husband and wife.
~~
After church they did not wait around to talk to the Rev or go to their usual breakfast at the local Dinah’s or Pann’s restaurants near their home like they always did before. They both remained quiet, only making small comments, like, “When did they build that CVS pharmacy?” and “Wow, isn’t it a pretty day?” Most of the time Mercedes just stared out of the passenger side window as Mason drove fast in his fancy car.
Before Mercedes realized it, Mason pulled through the iron gates of the Holy Cross Cemetery in Culver City, and up the winding road to Jesse and Mattie’s graveside in the Way of the Cross section. She took in the view of the sprawling, park-like setting, courtyards, and lush vegetation. It was quiet and serene and beautiful and holy.
They said nothing to each other as he parked. He came around to help Mercedes out of the car, extending his hand, and they walked across the green grass over to the spot where Jessie and Mattie were buried. The black granite companion headstone had both names, Jessie K. Wilson, Mattie B. Wilson, with their respective birth and death dates and a scripted message of Forever One. There was a vase that was filled with white tulips.
Mercedes asked, “Did you bring those?”
“Yes.” He only looked down.
They knelt together, Mercedes on one knee using her hand to secure the hem of her skirt to her knees and placing the other hand on Mason’s back. They began to pray silently. As Mason’s eyes were closed, Mercedes looked over to the next section called Resurrection, and saw her brother-in-law, Claude, standing over Fatima’s grave . . . alone.
Mercedes did not make another move or say anything about it. They just prayed.
~~
By two-o’clock in the afternoon they were back home.
Mason went into the office.
Mercedes went into the bedro
om.
They basically still said nothing.
~~
A while later, around nine o’clock that evening, while Mercedes sat in the backyard on a patio chair sipping chamomile tea, Mason came out and stood in front of her. “Cedes, I’m not leaving tonight. But I need to know how to get this vision out of my head.”
She noticed he had a tall can of beer in his hand. “I don’t know. I ask you to forgive me. Honey, we have to move on,” she said, holding her white teacup.
“No. We don’t. I don’t want to give up, but I have no choice. I can’t accept the fact that he must’ve meant about as much as our marriage did.”
“He didn’t.”
“I’m trying to figure out why it almost seems like you have an attitude.” He looked resentful.
“I don’t. I just want you to forgive me and learn to trust me again. That’s what I had to do.”
He told her, “This isn’t about you. This is about me. You were allowed your time years ago to hurt and make your decision. You make it seem like I owe you one. This isn’t tit-for-tat, like when one cheats the other can just get even and that’s that. Like revenge sex.” His voice was gruff.
She placed her teacup on the glass patio table. She spoke in his same strong tone. “This was hardly sex and it was hardly getting even. This was seven years later. If I wanted to get even I would’ve done it back then. And how can a kiss even be compared to someone having sex, repeatedly, with someone else who is not their spouse? I should be the only one in the room with you when you have sex, Mason.”
“And I should be the only man you’re alone with in a hotel room. I should be the only man you kiss.”
“It’s different.”
“It’s not.” He looked certain.
“I dealt with years of you being a professional athlete, attracting women, those golf groupies, and I trusted you. But you turned out to be a philanderer. A philandering professional athlete, the stereotypical famous person who does it because they can. I lived with that. And I think you forgot that maybe, just maybe, you’re not the only one of the two of us who can attract people.” She cut her eyes and looked out toward the view of the backyard.
Hot Girlz: Hot Boyz Sequel Page 19
