Xenia said nothing. Matter of fact, it was as if she hadn’t heard him speak at all. Everyone else, except Pam and the children, nodded and co-signed with murmurs. Saint nodded and smiled weakly, but it was too late; he knew it was over. Henry opened the door for a shit storm, and it would be more than torrential…
“Family is important to you, huh? Do you really believe that, Henry?” Pam asked, a smile on her face as she threw her napkin down with an attitude. “I doubt that. You knew where the hell they’ve been this entire time! If you really cared about your family, you would have tried to get in contact with Xenia years ago! She wasn’t buyin’ your bullshit and—”
“Mama, please!” Xenia’s eyes pleaded, but it was simply too late. His poor wife looked around the table, offering an embarrassed smile to all of her guests. Much to Saint’s surprise, no one reacted. No one seemed shocked or put off by what transpired. He gave an inner sigh of relief. Nevertheless, Xenia was trying to corral a tornado, otherwise known as Mama Pam.
“Mama, nothing! I’m going to have my say!” Pam rose from her seat like a phoenix from burning embers. “After all these years, I can look this man in his face and finally have my damn say!” She pointed at Henry as her face twisted in disgust. “You low-life, two-timing, venereal disease havin’ and bringing that shit home to me son of a bitch!”
“Mama! Oh my God! Stop!” Porsche’s eyes became wild—wild with something untamed, like Pam’s. The usually meek young lady seemed devastated that her beloved daddy would be spoken to in such a harsh manner.
“I ain’t’ stoppin’ nothing! I had to get three shots in the ass to get rid of that shit!”
Now, people’s expressions changed. Some looked shocked, others wore smirks as they enjoyed the show and others tried to pretend that nothing strange was going on. Then, he looked back over at Xenia. The woman was wilting like a damn flower left out in the desert sun.
“He isn’t gonna just sit here acting all sweet and milly mouthed while I just stand here and take it. I’m sorry Porsche and Xenia, but I can’t ignore this and I’m sorry to anyone,” she held her hand up, her eyes glazed with hot, angry tears, “who has to hear this! But my daughters need to know the truth! Ain’t nothing sweet about ’im!”
Henry looked to be in a state of shock. The man was frozen, right there in his seat.
“Xenia,” Saint whispered in her direction, “please take Hassani and Dakarai in the house. I will try to police this situation.” He honestly didn’t have much faith in his efforts, but he knew he had a better chance of it than his wife.
“No, I’ll do it.” Traci quickly got to her feet and grabbed the boys, made a mad dash around the pool, and dragged them inside. Both youngsters looked over their shoulders, their feet barely able to keep up with Traci’s quick retreat, their small eyes wide and apparently feeling rather salty that they’d miss the inappropriate conversation, the kind epic entertainment was made of.
“Naw!” Henry yelled, as if he’d suddenly been born and hip to the severity of the situation. “Let her finish, Porsche. Now you see why I left!” He snorted. “This is what I had to come home to, time and time again. A bunch of mess!… Her, and her loud mouth!”
Man! Henry! Shut up! You didn’t do yourself any favors just now…
Saint shook his head and closed his eyes in disbelief. Pam had calmed a bit until he opened his mouth again. He didn’t dare look at his wife. A part of him knew that, though she was embarrassed about the scene, a part of that woman he adored relished in her father being told off, finally forced to look what he did in the face. Regardless, Henry apparently had forgotten who he was dealing with. Pam would not be ignored.
“You damn straight, you shady, beady eyed, gap toothed funny lookin’, crusty ass weasel. I had a loud damn mouth!” Pam put one ring covered hand on her hip and continued to blast the shrinking man to kingdom come. “When you would bring your lame ass home, after you’d been gone for days on end, out in the street humpin’ otha broads and slangin’ that poison, that dope or gang bangin’. Putting us all in danger! I wasn’t part of that life anymore! Soon as I had my children, that was it! But not you; you just kept right on. You couldn’t be just cool wit’ the homeboys, you had to be a ringleader in the bullshit! Police at the damn door all hours of the night. What type of life is that for kids, Henry?! I begged you to stop, and you ignored me…got worse, matter of fact. I still tried to keep the family together.”
“Oh, here we go!” Henry sat back in his seat. “Does anyone have any violin music for this performance?! Jesus Christ!”
“You wasn’t callin’ on Jesus when you was out there in them streets, don’t call on ’im now! You can imply I’m a martyr all you want, call me whatever you like, but the truth will always remain just that, the truth, and I’m here to tell it! Half the time, you ain’t have two pennies to rub together, but when you did have some dough, I ain’t see none of it! I was out there workin’ my ass off, trying to take care of you and the kids, belly stickin’ out to here,” she gestured at her stomach, “… and that is how you mothafuckin’ repaid me! By cheating, and treating me like something on the bottom of your cheap ass, Payless shoes you got on today! Soles so thin, if you stepped on some bubblegum you’d know the damn flavor!”
Henry rolled his eyes. “Pam, you need to just move on! That was years ago! And besides,” he looked around at everyone, a slight sheen of embarrassment over his face, “this isn’t the place for this. Respect yourself, your daughters and this man’s house.” Henry wrapped his hand around his beer bottle and put it to his dried, slightly trembling lips.
“Don’t try to get the focus off yo’ black ass! You shouldn’t even be here!”
“Pam,” Saint said calmly, but loud enough to be heard over all the commotion. “I invited him, okay? This was my decision, per Xenia’s needs, not anyone else’s. Can you and Henry please take this discussion elsewhere? I’ve been patient, but this has gone on long enough.”
“Don’t worry, I’m almost through and that’s fine, Saint. I know this is your house,” she said with attitude, “but as for the people here sittin’ at this table, minus this rotten, shit for brains ugly ass gremlin, this is my family!”
Saint hung his head and shook it. He tried…Lord knew he tried…
“Xenia, Porsche and Ira are my children, ’cause I raised ’em!” She put her attention back on Henry. “Saint is my son-in-law, them two little boys in tha house, those are my grandbabies! I love ’em, help watch ’em when their parents are working or need some alone time and I love being around my family, ’cause that is what a mama and grandmamma is supposed to do!” Her whole body vibrated, her breasts shot out like rockets as she leaned forward, animated with each word she uttered. “That baby girl, that’s my granddaughter, none of yours! I bet you don’t even know those kids’ names, so ain’t no use in me saying them! Porsche’s daughter, that’s my grandbaby, too, wit’ her little fast, bad self, but she’s mine! And don’t you forget it!”
Henry rolled his eyes and looked away.
“You ain’t layin’ claim on a goddamn hair on nary a one of these folks’ heads at this table, ’cept your own, and speaking of which, you need to let that shit go, over there lookin’ like a nappy ass donut…shit just ate up in the middle! The hair is gone, let it die! Put a mothafuckin’ tombstone on it since you into tellin’ folks to let shit go tonight, giving out advice like you one of the wise men of Bethlehem. That’s what needs to be moved past, is your mothafuckin’ dead ass hairline you short dick son of a bitch!” She sat back down in a huff, shaking the whole table as she pounced in her seat and slammed her meaty, pale arms against it. “Now somebody pass me the rolls, please.”
Mothafuckin’ T.K.O.
Saint shook his head and palmed his mouth, just in case Xenia busted him smirking. He couldn’t help it. The shit was funny, although unsuitable; hell, he was dead wrong to laugh, but when Pam got angry, it was pure comedy. He took a deep breath and tried to get himself together. Xenia w
ould scold him about it later if he didn’t check himself.
“Mama,” Xenia said, her voice trembling. “Are you finished now? Can we proceed with our meal without any more outbursts?” Steel crept in her tone now. She hooked her gaze on her mother like a fishing line, trying to reel the older woman in. A look of disapproval, utter mortification and a call to action should one more utterance be spoken.
“Yes, baby, I’m finished.” Pam grinned patronizingly around a mouthful of bread.
“Good.” Xenia sighed and rose from the table. “To everyone here, I apologize for my parents’ argument that you had to witness. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go get Traci and the boys.”
Saint immediately followed after her, hot on her tail. Xenia’s feminine yet muscular toasty cinnamon legs were moving so fast, he had to put pep into his step. He curled a hand around her arm as neared the kitchen patio doors. When she turned toward him, her dark eyes were rich with something forbidden and burning with indignation, but sadness also lurked there.
“Baby, look…you know how your mother is,” he said soothingly as he took her into his arms. Her body was stiff, the muscles twisted then straightened to mere planks, but soon, she began to relax in his grip.
“I don’t understand how I feel!” she blurted. Saint pulled her to the side of the house for more privacy. As if on cue, Jagger rose from his seat and turned the music higher, inviting chatter and laughter at the table in the near distance.
Thank you, man…
‘You’re welcome,’ Jagger said telepathically as he took his seat.
“Talk to me, baby.” Saint gripped her arms and looked down at her, his protective nature in overdrive.
“I’m pissed that he’s here! I’d be pissed if he wasn’t after the invitation.” She shook her head. “I’m so confused. I’m mad at Mama for causing a scene like that, mad that I didn’t have the guts to the do the same when I first saw him at the show. I’m embarrassed that our friends and family had to see what happened, to see that my parents are crazy, and my father abandoned me and my sister and brother.” Saint cupped her chin delicately, lifting her face to him as he studied her closely, falling in love with her even deeper at that moment when her vulnerability felt painful and red to the touch.
“You’re embarrassed that everyone knows he walked out? Or is it, you’re embarrassed because you still care?” They shared a thoughtful pause.
Xenia shook her head then averted eye contact. She seemed to hate admitting it, more than the core truth of the matter.
“Xenia, there isn’t anything for you to be ashamed of. He did that. That was his choice to be a deadbeat and it doesn’t matter that you’re grown now, and still hurting from it. You never had any closure. Just because we mature in age doesn’t mean we don’t want our parents or need them. You are still that little girl, wanting your father to come back home and tell you that he is sorry, and that he loves you. I get it, baby. I understand.”
“Oh, God.” She sighed. “And just the whole way it went down. I never expected my mother to be anyone that she wasn’t, and I hate what she did just now, but shit, it was the truth. And maybe…maybe I now hate her too, for saying it so that now…now I can’t run away anymore and I have to talk to my father. I’ve been avoiding him all night.”
“Well…” Saint shrugged. “You can’t have an argument like this and not address it at some point in time but even without that, Xenia, you are going to have to talk to him. You have to tell him how you feel.”
“But I have! In the past, I—”
Xenia quieted as Traci casually strolled past with the boys. Both children looked back at her, their eyes full of concern for Mommy as they were led away, back to the table for supper.
“In the past, years ago, I told him how he affected me, and he never wanted to hear it. That’s why I stopped speaking to him. Now, all of a sudden, he wants me in his life!” She shot a look of disbelief mixed with a dash of disgust.
“And that’s what you have to tell him…that when you needed to talk, he wasn’t there. Now that he wants to talk, he expects you to be ready. That isn’t fair, but, he is here so maybe you can address it sooner rather than later, in an effort to move forward.” He gave her a big hug and a kiss on the top of her head. “If you choose to have nothing else to do with him, I respect your choice. If you choose to have him in your life, and our children’s, I respect that as well. It’s your call.”
The woman wrapped her arms around him so tight, he felt the air squeeze out of his lungs. After a while, she leaned back and let go of him.
“Saint, I need to calm down but in the next few days, I will talk to him about just that. Thank you.”
“You don’t need to thank me…that’s what I’m here for. I’m your husband, your friend; that’s my purpose. Now, there is a fruit salad over there,” he pointed at the table, “and some barbecue chicken that has my name written all over it. Would you care to join me?”
Xenia grinned. “Yes! Oh, that reminds me.” She looked toward the kitchen. “I made a pitcher of that honey lemonade you like. Let me grab it.”
“No, no…go on back to the table and take a seat. I’ll get it.” He gave her quick peck on the lips before she turned and walked away. In the near distance he could hear Donna’s voice.
“Xenia, do you mind if I use the restroom? I believe I recall where it was from last time.”
“Of course not, Donna! You don’t have to ask, honey. Just in case, it’s right through the kitchen and immediately off to the right.”
“Thank you.”
Saint swallowed as he entered the kitchen and made his way to the refrigerator. Quick, almost frantic footsteps, dainty and small—feminine with a bite—approached. He heard the woman pause, hitch a breath and waltz past him to her destination.
Should I lollygag and talk to her, or just mind my damn business?
He held the glass pitcher in his hands, then set it on the counter.
A few minutes later, the bathroom door clicked as it unlocked and Donna entered the kitchen. She paused as she made eye contact with Saint, but didn’t utter a word.
“Excuse me,” he called out, gifting a warm grin.
I can’t believe this woman has been at my house all this time and hasn’t said ‘hello’, and now she is just going to act like she didn’t see my ass standing here!
“Yes?” Donna turned slowly toward him, her lips balled up like a black-power fist.
“Do we have a problem, Donna?” Saint pointed to himself and then back to her.
“Not that I’m aware of,” she answered coldly as she crossed her arms. Just then, a loud burst of laughter came from the table and simmered back down.
“Well, there must be some sort of problem because you barely speak to me and now you aren’t saying anything at all. Now, I don’t know about you,”—Saint leaned back against counter and crossed his ankles—“but my mama taught me that when someone comes to the house, they are supposed to say hello after they are greeted. When you arrived, I said hello to you and Lawrence, but you didn’t respond.”
Donna sighed and put her hand on her hip. “Are you not getting enough attention today, Saint? I find that hard to believe.”
Saint bit his tongue, reminding himself that that was his friend’s wife.
“Nah, nothing like that, Donna, it’s just that you seem to have a problem with me and I’d like to get it resolved because your husband is my friend. I want to be on good terms with my friend’s wife. So…” He shrugged. “If there is something I can do to change this dynamic, please let me know and I will try to accommodate you.”
“You can’t.” She rocked on her heels.
“I can’t change the dynamic or I can’t accommodate you?”
“Neither.”
“Why is that?”
“Because that would require you to change your entire personality. I just don’t like you. It’s as simple as that.”
Saint swallowed and mulled the strong words over.
“I see. Well, that’s a shame because Lawrence and I are going to be friends for a long while. I’m trying to work this out with you, but all you’re doing is throwing me attitude, Donna.”
“Is that what you call it, Saint? When a strong woman doesn’t appreciate your personality, you call it attitude? I have a right to not like you.”
“Is this being strong, Donna? Being a bully to your husband? Being rude to his friends and calling my wife and whining about tattoos?”
She smirked and bit her lip. “My husband, unlike Jagger and especially you, doesn’t have to be an ass in order to be seen as a man. You are arrogant. You are perverted. You are crazy. As an Angel Child with your sort of power, it appears as if it has gone to your head and sorry, but I’m not one of your groupies,” she said flippantly.
Saint cracked up laughing. “You obviously know nothing about me, Donna. I’ve been arrogant, perverted and crazy waaaaaaay before I even knew I was an Angel Child!”
He caught the woman’s slight smile, but she quickly tucked it away, causing him to second-guess if he’d actually seen the damn thing at all.
“Look, Saint.” She exhaled. “I like Xenia. She is a nice woman, accomplished, friendly…and I enjoy her company. I understand that she loves you and contrary to the person you’ve painted me out to be, I do not bully my husband. I understand he has taken a liking to you. Honestly, he almost worships you, which I find quite distressing; nevertheless, you did assist him vocationally and he appears to love his job. For that,”—she nodded and shrugged—“I’m thankful. However, I’m entitled to feel the way I do. There is no amount of sweet talk, none of your presumed swag,” she said, putting her fingers in quotation marks, “or anything you could say right now that’s going to change the fact that I find your persona highly unattractive. You are what you are.”
“And what would that be, Donna?” He smirked, sucked his tongue in annoyance and glared at her. “What exactly am I?”
The woman rolled her eyes.
“Instead of giving me the third degree, you should be out there comforting your wife after the scene your mother-in-law pulled. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going back out to join my husband.” Donna disappeared before he could utter another word.
Saint's Sacrament - Sins of the Father Page 32
