Wrath

by Victoria Christopher Murray

  I whipped my head toward my mother. “So, what should I ask God, Mom? Should I pray the same prayers you prayed for Papa? Should I ask the Lord if Xavier will cheat on me the way Papa cheated on you?”

  “Chastity!”

  My head snapped back to my father because while we’d had heated discussions, there had been few times when anyone ever raised their voice in our household.

  His hands were flat on the table. “You will not speak to your mother that way.”

  “Why not?” My pushback made my father’s head rear back. “You said I should pray, so I just want to be clear. What kind of clarity do I need about Xavier? Not that I have to ask or answer to you. Because in case you’ve forgotten, I’m grown,” I said, sounding even to myself like a teenager right now.

  It was probably because the last time I’d told my father that, I was sixteen. And now, like then, he glared at me, his lips pressed together as if he were trying to stop himself from saying or doing something I might regret.

  But when he opened his mouth, his volume was lower, though his tone was more stern than I’d ever heard him. “There is only one thing on my mind in this situation, and that is telling you the truth. No matter how old you are or how… grown… you get, you are still my daughter, and I will always take that responsibility seriously. But what I will not take is you disrespecting me… or your mother… in our home.”

  While I sat still with my arms folded, I was careful not to return the same glare to my father that he was giving to me. He had never hit me in my life, but the fire in his eyes let me know he might be willing to break that streak today.

  “I don’t care where you work, I don’t care about your title, I don’t care how much money you make,” he continued as if he wanted to be sure I didn’t miss his message, “you need to understand I care about you. We”—he paused long enough to point to the other end of the table—“are your parents. And for your sake, no one in this room better ever forget that.”

  I tightened my arms, the only defiance I had within me.

  And then, as if I was a brat, he asked, “Is that understood?”

  I let a couple of beats go by, but I knew I’d been defeated. With a sigh, I said, “Yes, and I’m sorry.” I turned to my mother. “I’m really sorry, Mom.”

  Though she nodded, my mother sat still, as if my words had shocked her into a state where she might never speak to me again.

  I tried to explain, “But do you both understand my frustration? Papa, you don’t like Xavier—”

  “I never said that.”

  “But you’ve made some kind of judgment about him after talking to him for thirty minutes.”

  “I didn’t do that.”

  “You haven’t given him a chance.” I continued to plead my case. “If you have more questions, ask him; he’ll be glad to answer just like he was forthcoming today. He really opened up to you, Papa, and do you know how I know?” I didn’t give him a moment to answer. “Because he told you his mother had died, and he’d never even told me.”

  My father’s eyes narrowed. “You never talked about his mother?”

  “No,” I said, wondering if I’d just revealed the wrong thing. “But I didn’t talk about you or Mom either. He didn’t find out who you were until about a week ago. We were just trying to get to know each other.”

  My father nodded. “Well, getting to know each other means getting to know everything. Family structure, how one was raised—those are important factors.”

  “That’s one of the things I like about him. Xavier’s had a hard life, he’s survived things I never would have, and yet, here he is today. A good man. A successful man. A man I really”—I looked between the two of them—“like. And you know I’ve never said that before. I’m glad to be back in New York, and it has a lot to do with Xavier.

  “Papa, the only thing God is telling you is that Xavier has been through some things,” I said, as if I were God’s spokesperson in this moment. “But the operative word is he’s been through them. He’s created a wonderful life, and all he wants to do is live it.” I shrugged. “Just give him a chance.”

  “Your father and I will certainly do that,” my mother said, speaking her first words. Even after what I’d said, she was supporting me, and I jumped from my chair.

  “Thank you,” I said, wrapping her inside my arms.

  “I’m looking forward to getting to know the man you’ve just described.” Her voice was muffled inside my embrace, but her words made me hug her tighter. When I stepped away, she added, “And I’m sure your father wants to get to know him, too.”

  When I glanced back at him, he nodded, but before I could rush to him, he said, “I never said I didn’t like him, princess. I’m telling you what I feel in my spirit. Now, maybe that young man has been through a lot, but no matter where you start, you better find a way to pull in Jesus. And that’s what I’m sensing Xavier needs… a whole lot of Jesus.” I was just about to fold my arms again, but then my father added, “And you know what? This may be the very reason why God brought you into his life. Maybe He’s chosen you to help bring him to Christ.”

  Relief surged all through me. “So you’re okay with me seeing him?”

  He leaned back in his chair, crossed his legs, and gave me an up-and-down glance before he said, “I can’t stop you. You grown.”

  We all laughed as I rushed to my father and pulled him into a hug.

  My mother pushed her chair back. “Let me get your plate heated up so we can get back to the business of eating this wonderful food.”

  “No, that’s okay. I really have to get going. There’s a big case I’m working on, and I want to get a head start on it for the week.”

  “Well, I’m going to wrap this up for you,” my mother said as she picked up my plate and rushed into the kitchen.

  I still had my arms around my father when he shook his head. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, really meaning it this time.

  After a moment, he reached for my hand over his shoulder. “And I’m sorry, too.” He swung me around so that now, I faced him. His eyes were filled with sorrow. “I’m sorry because for so many years I…” He paused, made a sound with his teeth that sounded like disgust, then continued, “I damaged you, princess.”

  In the silence that followed, I wondered if he was giving me space to tell him that he hadn’t done any harm to me. But there was no need to tell that lie. He knew he’d spoken the truth.

  When he didn’t get a reprieve from me, he said, “If I had been a better husband, I would have been a better father.”

  This was where I could give him something. “You were—you are—a great father.”

  He nodded, but I could tell he hadn’t released himself from that regret. “This is something I tell men all the time. How you treat your children’s mother will affect them.” He sighed. “The greatest gift I could have given you was honoring your mother.”

  I sat back in my chair, but then scooted it to the edge of the table and took my father’s hand. “You’re honoring her now. And that’s why I’ve been able to open my heart. I’m dating a great guy because I see the man Mom always believed you to be. So whatever damage might have been there, I’m good now.”

  He wore his sadness like a mask he couldn’t take off.

  I said, “Maybe this all worked out in God’s timing. Mom is such a great example, and maybe I had to see her help you work it out, so that I can help Xavier work through some things.”

  “Help him work through, but not fix him, Chastity,” my father said.

  I tilted my head. “What do you mean?”

  He opened his mouth, then pressed his lips together so tightly, it almost looked like he was holding his breath. Then he said, “Just help him find Jesus, and He will do the rest.”

  I nodded, then hugged my father again. “That’s the best advice you could have given me.”

  “I hope so, princess,” he said, still filled with so much sadness. “I truly hope so.”

  Wanting to
ease a bit of his anguish, I said, “I promise you’ll love Xavier one day, Papa.”

  I waited, but my father was silent, and I leaned away from him. Couldn’t he find something to say? At least give me an I hope so? But his lips remained pressed in a thin line, almost like he planned never to speak again.

  But while his lips didn’t move, he couldn’t hide his thoughts from coming through the windows to his soul. In his eyes, I saw his belief—no, it was more than that—I saw his knowing that he would never come to love Xavier.

  That made me more than sad; that made me afraid.

  18 Xavier

  I hopped out of the taxi, then rushed into the hospital in search of the information desk. Bryce sounded fine on the phone, and it was only a sprained ankle. Still, I didn’t want to see my fam in any kind of distress.

  After being told that Bryce was in the ER, I weaved my way down a couple of long corridors until I found him. One of the nurses shifted the blue curtain to the side, and there was Bryce, resting on a gurney, half covered with a sheet. He was leaning back, eyes closed, one hand behind his head, just chillin’.

  My chuckle made him open his eyes. He grinned, though his eyes were glassy as if he had just been given a whole bottle of some good medicine.

  “Bruh, really?” I said. “I ain’t seen or talked to you in a week, and this is what you’re doing? All stretched out here like this is the Four Seasons.” I stepped closer to the bed and gave him dap. “How did you get here, man?”

  “I told you,” he said, his words coming slow. “A pickup game over in Morningside Park.”

  I laughed. “And I keep telling you, we’re past that. You can’t hang with those cats over there. They’re eighteen, nineteen, twenty years old.”

  He swatted my words away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, bruh. I still got time to be picked up by some team in the NBA.” My laughter didn’t stop Bryce. “Just because you’ve given up your dream of going pro, doesn’t mean I have.”

  “They really got you drugged up.”

  He shook his head. “I know what I’m saying. Every black man dreams of getting that NBA contract, and until I hit forty, I have time.”

  This time he laughed with me, knowing for sure he was talking foolishness.

  “Okay,” I said. “So what do I have to do to break you out of this place?”

  “Just a few more minutes.” He strained to push himself up. “They got my ankle wrapped,” he said, kicking the blanket away with his other foot. “The doctor’s going to give me a prescription, then I’ve got some papers to sign and we can bounce. It’s ridiculous they wouldn’t let me leave without an escort.”

  “Do you hear yourself? They got you drugged up, man.”

  “They could’ve just put me in a cab.”

  “Well, your cab is here.” I punched my chest, then sat back in the blue plastic chair against the edge of his curtained section. “Though you’re gonna owe me a dinner. I was grubbin’ with Chastity and her parents.”

  “Yeah, that’s what you said. What’s up with that? I mean, I knew you were all into her, since you haven’t had time to hit the links with me. But dinner with the folks?”

  “Yeah. It was deep.” Then I paused, realizing I hadn’t talked to Bryce. “Wait, you don’t even know. Guess who’s Chastity’s father.”

  Bryce frowned as if that was a dumb question. “How the hell would I know? I don’t even know her.”

  “Kareem. Jeffries.”

  He started out with a tilt of his head, then his eyes narrowed before they widened. “KJ? The basketball player–turned-preacher?”

  “The only one.”

  Bryce released a long whistle. “Man”—he shook his head—“that’s what’s up.”

  I held up my hands. “I didn’t know who she was, or rather, who her father was, until last week. My being into her has nothing to do with him.”

  “So you went to church with them?”

  “Church, dinner, the whole nine.”

  “X-Man, she’s got your nose wide open if you went to church… with her and her parents.”

  There had never been a time when a guy said those words—nose wide open—when I hadn’t pushed back. But this time, I said, “Yeah, I’m telling you, Bryce, she’s the one.” When he shook his head, I said, “What?”

  “Do you know how many times I’ve heard you say that? You’ve been in love with more women than all the ladies in the Divine Nine.”

  “Well, this time is different.”

  “You’ve said that before.”

  “I really mean it this time.”

  “You keep giving me the same lines.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know what else to tell you; it’s the truth.”

  He gave me a long look, then switched lanes. “So how was it hanging with her folks?”

  I shrugged. “It was cool. Her moms is real sweet. But KJ… dude was all in my grill, interrogating me like he wanted to make sure I was good enough for his daughter, even though he’s the one with all of those scandals. Remember that big blowup about him and that rapper, actress, or whatever she was?”

  “Yeah, bruh. And Chastity’s mom stayed with him after that?”

  “Yeah, I don’t know their story, but the Jeffrieses today are solid. So whatever went down, that man and woman worked it out.”

  “Good for them.” He shook his head as if he couldn’t believe what I’d told him. “So you were hanging with KJ. Man, that’s something.”

  “Yeah, he wasn’t feeling me.”

  “Just because he was asking you questions?”

  I paused and wondered where KJ would have gone if Bryce hadn’t called. “He wanted to know a lot about my past.”

  He paused, then gave me a nod. “What did you tell him?”

  “I told him I didn’t know my father and my mother died, but that was it. Didn’t mention Gran, didn’t tell him what happened to me when I came to New York, didn’t say none of that, ’cause I’m good now.” I paused. “And I have you and your dad to thank for that.”

  Bryce shrugged. “That was a dozen years ago. We’re fam now. And I don’t think you should be worried about KJ. That’s just what dads do. You got time to grow on him.” I nodded, but my frown made Bryce ask, “What? Is there more?”

  I wanted to talk to Bryce about this, but I knew this conversation could go left quick. Maybe, though, since Chastity was KJ’s daughter, Bryce might see this differently. So I said, “I really want Chastity’s parents to like me ’cause I’m thinking I’m ready to make this move. I’m ready to ask Chastity to marry me.”

  His incredulity was all over him: in his expression, in his body language, and then in his tone when he said, “How long have you known her?”

  His question made that moment flash in my mind. From yesterday. Chastity’s face filled with fear. When she’d slipped out of the car before I had a chance to calm down. When she was about to walk away from me forever… just like Roxanne… and Diane… and Mattie… and…

  “Time has nothing to do with it when it’s right” was what I said to Bryce, because I couldn’t tell him the truth. I didn’t want him to know that while I loved Chastity and I thought she loved me, I was afraid she’d see that side of me I tried to keep hidden and her love wouldn’t be enough.

  But with a ring on her finger—From this day forward, for better or worse—those vows would make her stay. I finished telling Bryce, “I just know when it’s right, and she’s right.”

  My words must’ve moved him, because he said, “Okay, I’ll give you that.”

  I breathed with relief. Finally, Bryce got it, and I was grateful. I wanted him by my side when Chastity became my wife.

  But then he had to add, “But if she really is the one, why make the move now? What difference will it make if you give it six months or a year?”

  Another flash: when I’d held her in my arms outside of the car… and she’d trembled, so afraid.

  I squeezed the bridge of my nose. “Ther
e’s no time to wait.”

  “No time?” He sounded as if he were confused. “What are you talking about? What’s the rush?”

  I couldn’t believe I’d slipped like that. “I mean, there’s no need. Not when I’m ready and I think she is, too.”

  Bryce shook his head. “You’re making a big mistake,” he said, sounding as if he was now clear of all drugs.

  Sitting up straight, I said, “So that’s your response when I tell you I’m about to make the biggest decision of my life?”

  “You’ve made this decision before.”

  “So what?” I said, feeling the beginning of that heat. “Can’t you just be happy for me because I finally got it right? Can’t you just say congratulations and then roll with me?”

  “Yeah, I could do that,” he said, his tone so nonchalant. “And if we hadn’t been down this road before and if…” He stopped there.

  “Why you going silent now? Just say what you have to say.”

  He shrugged. “Okay. If Roxanne hadn’t called me.”

  I stiffened.

  “She told me why you broke up, or rather, why she left you.” He didn’t have to add that final part; he only did it to make a point.

  Looking straight into his eyes, I said, “Whatever she told you, that’s her story, not mine.”

  “Are you saying you didn’t threaten her?”

  My glance didn’t stray. “Is that what she told you?” When he only raised his eyebrows, I finished, “I told you we had an argument.”

  “You left out the part about being so angry that you punched a hole in the wall.” His cheeks filled with air, and then he released a long breath. “X-Man, you know I got you, fam, but you’ve got some things you have to work out; you’ve got some issues.”

  Issues—the same word Chastity’s father used. A microwave had turned on inside me. “Out of respect for our friendship, we should end this conversation now.”

  He shook his head. “See, this is what true fam does,” he said, flicking his finger between the two of us. “True fam forces you to tell the truth even when you’re a liar.”

  My fingers curled into fists, and Bryce glanced down at my hands, the glaze now completely gone from his eyes.