Saint's Sacrament - Sins of the Father

by Laveen, Tiana

  A look of disappointment swept over the boy’s face. “Is Traci comin’ to tha party, Daddy?”

  “She’s supposed to…but back to this age thing, what’s this all about?” Saint snaked his hand into his pocket.

  Dakarai’s eyes darkened. The little dude was definitely up to something. “When is your birthday, Daddy?”

  “You know when my birthday is. The same month as yours, August.”

  Dakarai tilted his head to the side, pushed his arms in back of himself and grinned sneakily.

  “What are you tryna pull, Dakarai?” Saint put his hand on his hip.” Dakarai ignored him and continued with his inquisition.

  “How much older, like, how much older are you than Mommy?” The boy struggled to put his thoughts together.

  “I’m about three years older than Mommy. Next, you’ll be asking me about zodiac signs!”

  “What’s a zombie sign? So, that’s about the same as me and Traci!” He smiled, pure joy radiating from his face. Saint burst out laughing.

  “We can get into zodiac signs later and about the age, not quite, little man.” Saint’s response didn’t seem to matter; Dakarai was full of confidence as he bounced away. Saint shook his head in confusion and looked around at all the smiling faces as he stood before the grill.

  Then, he saw her.

  A belly laugh started in the pit of his stomach and meandered its way higher, leaving him a mess as he held a cold brown beer bottle in one hand, and a grill spatula in the other. Pam sat at the lime green umbrella table by their pool, her feet in orange flip-flops propped up on a nearby chair, an unlit cigarette hanging dangerously out the side of her mouth. She wore tight black shorts showcasing big, yellow thunder thighs she was damned proud of. She cut her eyes toward Henry who stood by Porshe as if she were a fortress of protection. Pam had a scowl on her face that was fit for a madman.

  Hassani, Dakarai and other children of family and friends frolicked in the water while the speakers blasted Fresh Prince’s, ‘Summertime.’ The tempting scent of grilled chicken, turkey franks and salmon permeated. Lawrence approached Saint to give him input about the grill, believing himself to be a grill master.

  “Now, what you have to do is turn the meat over.” Lawrence pointed to two chicken breasts.

  “Get away from me, man!” Saint laughed, pretending to elbow him. “I got this!”

  “Not according to Xenia. She sent me over here…said you need all the help you can get.”

  Saint chuckled as he turned the turkey franks over. “I can’t cook worth a damn, I’d be the first to admit it. But I think I’ve got this grilling thing down pat.” Just then a flame shot up, almost singeing his eyebrows. There was silence, then Lawrence and Saint burst out laughing, Saint more so out of humiliation.

  “Just shut up. Don’t say not one word about this to anyone!” Saint cracked up as he thrust his spatula in Lawrence’s arms, took off his white apron that said, ‘The Man with the Grilling Plan’, and cast it haphazardly onto a lawn chair. He walked away, his Nike flip flops smacking the concrete as he glanced at his sons playing a homemade game in the pool that involved a colorful beach ball, the ability to count to ten, and dirty dealings to win coveted toys.

  “Seven! Eight! Nine! Ten!” Dakarai screamed. “I called out green, it’s green! I get your train!”

  “No it ain’t! It’s yellow and you counted wrong. You were supposed to count from ten backwards. It landed on yellow! You ain’t gettin’ nothin’!” Hassani huffed.

  “Hassani!” Xenia called out from her seat next to Stacey. She held Isis by the hand as the little girl tried in vain to break free. “I’m not going to warn you again. Stop speaking to him like that.”

  “And it isn’t ain’t, it is isn’t.” Saint added with a big grin then wrapped his lips around the rim of his beer and took a swig. He bent down and gave his wife a kiss on the forehead.

  “You seen Mama?” She smirked.

  “Yup. Did you tell her he’d be here?” Saint asked as he shot the woman a glance, the cigarette see-sawing out the side of her mouth like a nervous twitch.

  “Of course I did. I let her know and she got to rolling her eyes and going off. In fairness to her, Saint, she hasn’t been physically around him in years.” Xenia shook her head. “I told you only my sister deals with him…”

  Saint nodded. “You want something to drink? What about you, Stacey?”

  Xenia pointed to a cooler full of spring water. “One of those, please.”

  “I’d like water, too.” Stacey added as she handed her daughter another crayon to scribble with in her coloring book.

  “Isis, sit down baby and draw Mommy a picture.”

  “The food will be ready soon, Stacey. We’ve got chips, pretzels, pickle roll-ups, devilled eggs, baked beans, potato salad, cheese and crackers, fruit trays, you name it. Help yourself,” Saint offered.

  “Thank you. I had a few potato chips and I’ll be back over.”

  “Xenia and Mama Pam also made some great desserts for after dinner, so save room!” Saint winked as he walked away to get the waters. He tossed his empty beer bottle in the trashcan. On his journey, he saw Lawrence and Donna standing side by side in front of the grill. From Lawrence’s body language, they appeared to be having a disagreement.

  What the hell? Saint rolled his eyes, an ice-cold water bottle in each hand. The man can’t catch a break! Donna jammed her finger in his face, her head moving to and fro as her ‘sista-girl’ attitude shined loud and clear. Lawrence’s dark eyebrows bunched and his lips twisted in a frown.

  I better help him…

  He swiftly walked back to Xenia and Stacey, and thrust the bottles in their hands. As he made his way toward the quarreling couple, Jagger’s voice boomed.

  “We’re here!” He laughed, gripped a beer bottle he’d pulled from the cooler and quickly wrapped his arm tightly around Traci. Saint gave Jagger a brotherly hug and Traci a kiss on the cheek.

  “What’s up, man! Late as hell! Where have you been?” Saint laughed as he sized the couple up.

  “Traci had to go into work this morning for a meeting at the last minute and this afternoon she needed to pick up something from the store for one of her co-workers’ birthday,” Jagger explained as he popped the bottle open and downed half of it in a single swig.

  “Cool…look,” Saint looked over his shoulder at Lawrence, who now stood solo, but obviously angry based on his body language. The man stared down at the food on the grill, placed some onto a nearby platter and tenderly brushed some pieces of meat with Xenia’s killer home-made barbecue sauce. “I want you two to help yourselves to the refreshments and snacks and dinner will be ready soon.” Jagger nodded as Saint turned away to go to Lawrence, but then grabbed Saint by the collar of his gray Nike tank top and pulled him back.

  “What?” Saint said in almost a whisper.

  “Don’t go over there.” Jagger took another hard, fast swig of his bottle as his eyes narrowed on the target—Lawrence. “He will blow up. Donna, right?” Jagger smirked.

  Saint nodded. “Of course. She just won’t let up. Everything was going just fine until she started a fight with him. If my mother-in-law can be on her best behavior with her ex-husband swarming around, surely, she can do the same.”

  Hormones or not, this is ridiculous.

  Traci left them to join Xenia and Stacey. The three women immediately burst into lively conversation and laughter, while Donna lounged by herself, only a few feet away, as if she had an axe to grind, a score to settle. The woman’s dark, smooth skin glimmered under the sunrays; her pressed hair pulled back in a puffy ponytail and a scowl on her face to fit The Grinch that Stole Christmas. What a shame that such a lovely woman rarely smiled. She was hospitable, yet there always appeared to be tension and judgment coming from her general direction. Jagger made his way toward the pool, surprising Saint to no end. Before he knew it, the man was jumping in the deep end and chasing the children around, growling like an ogre and drawing shrieks
and yells of delight from the little ones. Saint went to his wife.

  “Everyone fine over here? Anyone need anything?” he offered.

  “Saint, I thought you were supposed to be minding the grill?” Traci teased, causing the other two to burst out laughing. Xenia poked the woman with her elbow while stifling a laugh.

  “Oh, I see you’ve got jokes, Traci. Xenia’s been over here gossiping about me, huh?” He feigned anger as he glared at her, only causing more laughter.

  “Now baby, you know I’d never do such a thing!” Xenia lied. The truth was written all over her face.

  “That’s cool! I will take all three of you on in a game of pool later, and let’s see who gets the last laugh then! Put up or shut up!”

  “Saint, nobody is falling for that.” Xenia rolled her eyes dramatically. “You need to just accept that you can’t grill, can’t cook, can’t bake…can’t do anything that requires an open flame, you can barely microwave.”

  “When everyone is gone, it’ll be just you and me left here, sweetie and you’ll have to answer to this blatant disrespect!” Saint teased with a swat at her arm to which she reacted by blinking and veering back in melodramatic fashion.

  “You disrespected all of us when you stood by that grill!” Xenia grinned, seeming to relish in his squirming.

  The women really got to laughing now.

  “You should have just hired Lawrence or a caterer. We’ve been out here over an hour, roasting like Cornish hens… People are starving, all because you wanted to be ‘tha man’ and show everyone how it’s done. Ain’t nobody got time for that!” She burst out laughing, causing a ricochet of guffawing around her.

  “I can’t believe you are goin’ in on me like this!” He found it funny, and could laugh at himself, but a small part of him was truly set on some sort of inconsequential retaliation once the coast was clear, and he had her all to himself.

  Staci and Traci were turning red as they laughed almost to delirium. “Forget y’all.” Saint grinned. “I know when I’m not appreciated.” And he stormed off, a big smile on his face, causing more chortling at his expense. He made his way around the opposite side of the pool.

  “Hi, Henry. Would you like something else to drink?” He took the crushed, empty water bottle from the man’s grip. “What about you, Porsche?”

  “I’m fine, thanks,” Xenia’s sister replied as she nestled closer to her father. Saint could definitely see the difference in acceptance. Porsche behaved as if the sun rose and set on the man, while Xenia had barely said more than a sentence to him upon his arrival. He observed his wife who used friends, children and her mother as a buffer. She didn’t want to touch him—in fact seemed to recoil from his presence. It was a back and forth game. She was trying to transcend her emotional hurdles, but he figured she just didn’t want to give it energy right then and there. He wanted to help but understood it was Xenia’s struggle, her cross to bear, and he wouldn’t dare interfere in her process. After all, he knew all about that sort of hurt. Things like that took time.

  “Thank you, Saint. Uh…” The man’s bushy brows bunched. “The cooler is kinda close to Pam and she’s already said a couple of things to me… I’m just trying to keep the peace.” Saint nodded, but didn’t feel sincerity from the man. The guy seemed to enjoy that Pam was upset, but Saint felt himself sink into a psychic pickle. His wife’s emotions were too raw, and he was picking up on them, which caused a blending affect. They were one. Soulmates. Connected beings. Regardless, he tried and tried, and the more he looked at the dude, the more he didn’t like him. Saint felt a bit petty about the entire ordeal. The man hadn’t done one damn thing to him, hadn’t said anything to cause him alarm or concern; it was just a hunch. The more time passed, the more he convinced himself he’d adopted Xenia’s sentiments regarding the matter. He was too close to the burn. He didn’t trust him, though parts of the man made his heart soften, and kept him from going on a horrid inquisition. What the hell was he was supposed to do? When he looked at Henry’s face, he saw bits and pieces of his wife—therefore, cursing him out, and taking him to task for walking out on his family, would feel like doing the same to her. Not only that, Xenia would be mortified if he didn’t control himself. She didn’t want any public scenes today, but that was a tall bill.

  “Okay.” Saint offered a wide grin. “I’ll go over there. What would you like?”

  “Something stronger than this water…any more beers?” the man asked wearily.

  “Of course. I’ll be right back.” He passed the long dining table Xenia had set up perfectly with a marine blue tablecloth. A gorgeous watermelon fruit salad basket wrapped in saran wrap was set in the middle of it, while matching blue goblets, plates and silver plastic picnic cutlery were at each place setting. Pam pretended not to notice him approach, hiding behind her wide, white sunglasses. He smiled and reached into the cooler, removing a corona from the assorted cluster of beer delights.

  “Hey Mama Pam, how are you?”

  “Hungry as hell.”

  “It will be ready soon. Probably no more than five minutes.”

  “Naw, hungry for a piece of Henry, that walking piece of shit! Look like somethin’ that came right out of some angry bear’s ass after a long bout of constipation! I’m glad I had him in his hay day—he look a fuckin’ mess now!” The woman huffed and belted an evil laugh etched in pain. “Serves him right! That’s what womanizin’, stealin’ and lyin’ will do for ya.”

  “Awww, Mama Pam, come on, now. Let’s try to be nice today.”

  “Why? That’s just being fake.” She looked at Saint in disbelief. “He wasn’t nice to me when he did all the bullshit he did. He wasn’t nice to my children after he left, ain’t call or find out about them, for years. Xenia, Porsche and Ira wanted to know where their damn daddy was! Hell if I knew.” She shrugged. “We coulda been dead, homeless, he ain’t know. He still ain’t sorry for it after all these years and I got a problem with that. Still ain’t offered no back child support, nothin’! Porsche all up under him like he is Sun-Ra or some shit!”

  Saint chuckled, more so at the fact that Pam knew about Sun-Ra.

  “Well, you know how that is. Porsche obviously has a deep desire to foster a relationship with him.”

  “She been the one callin’ him all these years, asking to see him. Sometimes he stands ’er up, sometimes he shows up from what I understand, but she don’t tell me the half of it. Says I’ll just get goin’. Xenia was on to his shit and now here he stands! Bold as fuck!”

  “Well, sometimes our need to have someone in our life is more important than what may have transpired in the relationship in the past. Besides, maybe he’s changed.”

  “He ain’t changed! He the same piece of sneaky shit yesterday, today and tomorrow. Make sure you take a pile of Isis’ wet wipes when you go around him. Shit tends to smear. Henry is a consistent type of mothafucka! That low life nig—”

  “Mama Pam!” Saint laughed lightly and threw up his hand. “Come on, now. I’m begging you; just try, for Xenia’s sake. You are getting yourself all worked up.” He patted her knee affectionately.

  She snatched her glasses off and huffed.

  “Gimme a beer, Saint. I’m going to need all the liquor I can handle to get through this damn cookout!” Saint grinned and opened up the beer in his hand. He handed it to her, and watched the woman wrap her full, orange gloss covered lips around the neck and down half of it before he could form another thought. He looked away, to avoid cracking up in the poor woman’s face as he reached into the cooler and gripped another beer to take back to Henry. Just then, Lawrence called out, “Everything is done! Let’s eat!”

  ~***~

  Bodies wet from the pool, some dry and freshly tanned, leaned in close to one another, huddled around the table. Now the place was covered in side dishes, marinated grilled meats, and colorful bottles of bubbles Xenia had purchased for the children. Lively chatter and old school R&B music reigned in the outdoor space. A sense of relief wa
shed over Saint. He glanced at Donna and Lawrence who sat hip to hip, their noses deep in plates piled with delicious potato salad. Xenia had said grace and now, he surveyed everyone. This was his extended family and he was happy they were all there. He sat at the end of the table, his plate untouched as he continued to make mental notes. Dakarai’s body was pressed into Traci’s, as if there were no room to spare. The sweetheart of a woman allowed it, though Saint held a chuckle at bay as he realized Xenia’s declaration to him weeks previously was correct—Dakarai was smitten with the young lady and his outlandish questions earlier in the day proved it all the more. It all made sense now. He turned and looked at Pam. The woman’s eyes burned with rage. Her yellowed skin appeared angry with fresh reddish welts, no doubt a scorching kiss of sunburn despite her spending most of her time under an umbrella.

  He was certain, however, that feeling of sunburn paled in comparison to her anger that boiled deep within her. Henry still did his damnedest to not make eye contact with his nemesis. Pam was out for blood, so the man had better watch his neck. Porsche held Isis on her lap, hand feeding her niece grapes and sliced strawberries while the children giggled and made obnoxious comments. Lastly, Saint’s eyes rested on Xenia. Sitting there in her short purple and white sundress, she was an image to behold. Smiling, laughing, passing food and asking everyone how they were doing, she was the epitome of a gracious host. He loved her slight tan; it made her skin glimmer, that skin he longed to touch…

  Henry cleared his throat.

  Oh no…please be quiet. Man, you’ll get some shit started! Just stay incognito!

  “Saint, I want to thank you for inviting me over to spend time with you and your family…my daughters, grandchildren. I really appreciate it.” The man grinned, his mouth partially stuffed with food. “There is nothing more important to me,” he smacked noisily and swallowed before continuing, “…than being here today with my family. That’s what matters, family.” He watched Porsche eat up the declaration like it was a chocolate cake right from the table.