by Dijorn Moss
“Man, I’m a grown man. I take care of mines. Please believe that.” Dwight pounded on his chest.
Quincy wanted to break his face for having the audacity to place himself in the same category as Quincy. Quincy was a man because he made calculated decisions and also kept his responsibilities at the forefront of his life.
“How? How do you take care of yours?” Quincy asked.
Sasha came to her baby daddy’s defense. “Dwight plans to be a producer.”
“Well, there are a lot of people your age that want to become a producer. What are you going to do that is different?” Quincy replied.
“What do you mean?” Dwight asked.
“I mean, if God has blessed you with a gift, then it must be unique. So what makes you unique and different from everyone else?”
“I don’t know,” Dwight replied.
That answer disturbed Quincy in so many ways. Imagine wanting to achieve something and not knowing the means by which to obtain it, he thought. It was a psyche that was both foreign and unsettling to him.
“Sasha is a good girl, and she’s going to be a great mother,” Dwight said.
“I know she’s a good girl and that she’s going to be a great mother. Her mother and I raised her that way. The question is, what kind of a father are you going to be?” Quincy still could not wrap his head around the fact that they were talking to the father of Sasha’s child. “Can you provide for a family on a DJ’s salary?”
“No, but I’m going to go out and get it,” Dwight said.
“You see, that’s what troubles me,” Quincy answered. “Because you have no vision, you’ll do whatever it takes to obtain it. If you have no vision, you’ll take short gains and cut corners. Without vision, there’s self-destruction, or as the Word says, you’ll perish.”
Now Dwight seemed to be enjoying the chicken more than the conversation. Quincy never liked to preach, but what could he do when he saw someone who was lost?
“You got a lot to think about, and a short time in which to think about it, before this baby comes,” Quincy said to both Dwight and himself.
“I think what my husband is trying to say . . . ,” Karen stated.
“I’m not trying to say anything. I have said it in plain English,” Quincy said.
Karen’s eyes cut Quincy deep, but Quincy was not concerned with Karen’s irritation.
“What I’m trying to say is that Sasha has a lot going for herself, and having a baby only makes her career goals more difficult,” Quincy said.
“Well, I love Sasha very much, and I’m going to be there for her and for my child,” Dwight said.
“Excuse me.” Quincy had heard enough, so he got up and threw his napkin down on the table. It was a bitter pill for Quincy to swallow. He had failed as a parent, and given his past failings as a husband, the only true success he had known was his business.
Quincy entered the restroom and washed his hands under a gold faucet, but he did not know what dirt he was trying to get rid of. He was certain that it was more internal than external. If Sasha wanted to ruin her life, then so be it. Quincy was going to have to let her find out the hard way that life was not as sweet as he and Karen had made it for her over the years.
Quincy looked in the mirror. With a heavy burden placed squarely on his shoulders, he saw a man that was not equal to the task. He resisted the urge to look away, and instead, he faced his insecurities and his fears. Like he had done so many times before, he began to speak to them.
“God, you have given me the mind to build and rebuild. I’ve accomplished more than my father and grandfather. I have traveled the world and became a multimillionaire. I am a good husband and a great father, and I won’t allow the mistakes of my child to cause me to sin. I will arise with confidence and strength and victory.”
Another image was reflected in the mirror. It was of a man who had just finished using the restroom and had a perplexed look on his face.
“In times like these, you got to encourage yourself,” Quincy said.
“I know that’s the truth,” the man said as he approached the sink next to Quincy and started to wash his hands.
Quincy dried his hands before he exited the restroom and made his way back to the dinner table, where, it appeared to Quincy, the conversation had moved on without him.
“Are you okay, baby?” Karen asked Quincy.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Something wasn’t agreeing with me.” Quincy took his seat.
“We were just talking, and I was telling Dwight about the men’s retreat, and I think that it would be a good idea if he went with you,” Karen announced.
“That’s funny. I don’t,” Quincy replied.
“Daddy,” Sasha said.
“I mean, this is a real serious thing. Men go to the retreat to seek guidance for their life,” Quincy replied.
“That would be perfect for Dwight,” Karen said.
Quincy wished that Karen would stop answering for Dwight. He also wished that she would stop forcing the issue about the men’s retreat, but Quincy couldn’t deny that Karen had a somewhat valid idea.
“I mean, if you are not doing anything . . .” Quincy was less than enthusiastic.
“Sure. I’m down.” Dwight seemed more eager to join Quincy on his weekend excursion.
And with that, Quincy did not know if this meeting was a divine appointment or an utter embarrassment.
Chapter Eleven
Will
The Eve of the Retreat . . .
“What do you mean, you don’t know where he is?” Will asked.
“He’s gone. He’s been gone for two days now,” Will’s mother said in between sobs.
For so long, Will’s mother’s emotions had lain dormant, due in part to her drug-induced state. For Will to witness his mother express her emotions was a shock, and he did not know how to react or handle the situation.
“Where’s Dad?”
“He’s out there somewhere, trying to hustle up some money.”
It figures. My father can’t do right to save his life.
“I don’t want to lose my baby. Please find him.”
His mother had ignored reality so much that to deal with it was unbearable.
“Look, Mom, when I find Josh, I’m not bringing him back here. If you want to see him, I will make arrangements, but I can’t keep leaving my brother here. This isn’t the environment for him.”
“What are you talking about? He’s my son.”
“You think he’s safe here?” Will made a calculated step toward his mother. “Look deep into your heart, and you know that I’m right and that this is no place for my brother to live. Dad is hardly even here, and what kind of an example does he set when he is here?”
Will’s mother leaned back with a sadistic grin, as if she had been possessed and the demon that Will now spoke to was more amused than threatened. “Well, look at you! You’re the man now. You think you know what’s best? You think you’re better than me? Well, you’ll never be better than me, because I gave birth to you. I sat up in that foul-smelling hospital and pushed you out with pain, and there’s no way you’re better than me.”
Will realized his posture was too aggressive and made his mother defensive. He took a seat on the couch next to her and allowed for the tension of the moment to settle down.
“You’re right, Mom. You birthed me not out of love, but pain. Pain from the fact that your life revolves around waiting. Waiting for my father to be released, waiting for my father to come home, waiting for the government to send you a check, waiting and waiting. Nothing in your life has anything to do with you or what you want. You birthed me out of pain. For most of my life, that’s all I knew, until I met Jesus and He taught me that even pain has a purpose.” Saying the name of Jesus not only elicited a warm feeling in Will’s stomach, but it also brought forth a lone tear in his mother’s eye.
“I’m not better. I just know that I don’t feel invisible anymore or empty or like there is no meaning to all
of this. I’m trying to understand more than anything this new thing, and I know that with me my brother has a chance to change his life.” Will’s mother was silent, but he knew that she’d heard his every word. “I’m not the enemy, Mom. We both want the best for Josh. I just believe he has a better shot with me.”
“Bring him back,” Will’s mother said as she removed a pack of cigarettes from her purse. She not only lit a cigarette but proceeded to smoke it in front of her daughter, who lay asleep in the playpen next to the TV.
Without another word, Will accepted his assignment from the queen of this household and proceeded toward the door. He had to find his brother, but first, he had to escape from here in one piece. Will peeked out the blinds next to the front door to see who was outside. There was a gathering of members from the Untouchables. Some he used to run with, and some Will had never seen before today.
Will was boxed into a corner. He did not want to leave his mother and sister alone, but he knew that his old crew would not harm them. He was the only one that they wanted. His bike parked out front must have tipped them off that he was there.
“What’s wrong?” Will’s mother asked.
“I can’t go out the front. Hold on. Let me think of something.”
Will knew he had to think fast. He had to figure out a way out of there and find his brother. His escape was first. Will pulled out his phone and sent a text message to the one friend that he could trust in this situation.
“Nobody’s coming in here, are they?” Will’s mother asked.
“I don’t think so.” Will looked outside again and saw that the group was growing restless, but they held their positions and did not advance. Will’s cell phone gave him an alert that he had a new text message. His friend was on his way. Next, he had to figure out where Josh was.
Chapter Twelve
Jamal
Despite his vow to move out, Jamal continued to live with Chantel. He reasoned that with less than three months to go before his wedding day, it made no sense to move out of his apartment and get another place or to live in a hotel. Jamal had grown comfortable with his living arrangement, and since he and Chantel had agreed not to have sex until their wedding day, then maybe God’s grace would watch over his household.
But each day Jamal grew weaker and more susceptible to temptation.
Chantel emerged from the bathroom located in the bedroom in nothing but a pink towel that smothered her figure-eight frame.
“I’m sorry,” said Jamal, who stood in the middle of the bedroom. “I knew you were in the shower, but I thought—”
“It’s okay.” Chantel dried her hair with another pink towel as the sun peeked through the blinds and highlighted her skin.
Water sat on top of her flesh, with no rush to evaporate. Jamal could feel the tower of his willpower crumble.
“Where’s Jamir?” Chantel asked.
“He’s in his room, asleep,” Jamal replied, and now that an opportunity had been established, all that remained was space.
Jamal feared rejection, but his desire screamed for him to discard pride and yield to indulgence. He crossed the room and took Chantel by the waist. Kissing her was like biting into a ripe honeydew melon, so sweet that he could go on for hours without stopping. Chantel did not hold back. She wrapped her arms around him, and her wet body and Jamal’s hot body meshed. When Jamal’s hands began to search the bottom of her towel, he felt a prick in his heart. The small wound made him face a major issue. He and Chantel were about to allow their passion for one another to cause them to make a mistake. Their passion had always been the source of their woes. Jamal put his head down, and Chantel went right on kissing his forehead.
“We can’t,” Jamal said as he took Chantel by her hands and clasped them together as in prayer.
“I know.” Chantel broke free from Jamal’s grip and proceeded to get dressed.
Overwhelmed, Jamal felt his knees give out, and he flopped down on the bed in complete surrender to the moment. He was confused about what he wanted, and that concerned him more than anything else.
“Let me ask you something. Do you think we’re okay?” Chantel asked.
“Yeah, of course. Why?” Jamal asked.
“Sometimes I wonder if we’re going to make it,” Chantel said.
Jamal sat up on the bed and asked, “If you feel that way, then why do you want to get married?”.
Chantel had her back turned to Jamal while she searched through the drawers for clothes. She turned to face Jamal, and a cloud took up residence in her eyes. Jamal could not tell what Chantel felt at the moment.
“When I was a little girl, I used to pray for the perfect man. When I got older, I prayed for the ideal man. You are what I prayed for, but since I’ve done a good job of making a mess of good things, I figure that it won’t stop with you.”
“I’m not going to disappoint you,” Jamal said.
“You can’t guarantee that.” Chantel started to put on her clothes.
“You’re right, I can’t, but I know this. I love you, and for whatever it’s worth, you weren’t my ideal future wife, but you’ve become more than what I could ever pray for.”
As they conversed in the bedroom, Jamal realized that living together without a covenant only blurred the lines. Jamal and Chantel had gotten comfortable, he and Chantel’s relationship had lost it’s edge. Love existed on the edge, and it was not meant for the complacent, but for the compassionate.
“Listen, I’m going to go stay with a friend for a little while.” Jamal felt like a coward. He couldn’t look at Chantel as he spoke. “Just until the wedding.”
“I don’t know what to say.” Chantel got in Jamal’s face. “First, you postpone the wedding, and now you’re moving out. Just think about it, J, and try to see it from my point of view. Would you trust the person you were going to marry when every time you looked up, they seemed to be pushing you away?”
“It’s not even like that!”
Chantel slipped out of her towel and into a pair of jean shorts and a black tank top. “You can do whatever you want. Just know that I won’t be surprised if I get that call saying that the wedding is off!”
“Whatever.” Jamal conceded that he wasn’t going to win this argument, so he gave Chantel a dismissive wave and went into the living room. Chantel followed Jamal out of the bedroom, but she made her way toward Jamir’s room.
Jamal went into the closet near the front door and pulled out his duffel bag. Even though Jamal knew he was doing the right thing, at the same time he felt stupid. That proved that a person could do the right thing and still feel stupid. He went back into his bedroom and started to pack.
Jamal was about to call Will and ask to stay with him until the wedding when he got a text message from Will. It stated that he needed Jamal’s help. Jamal feared that his friend was in serious danger since Will had asked Jamal to pick him up in the alley of his old apartment. Jamal could think about the details later, but he needed to leave now. Jamal texted Will back, letting him know that he was on his way. He had snatched the car keys off his counter and was making a beeline to the door when Chantel emerged with Jamir in her arms.
“Where you going?” Chantel asked as she put Jamir on the floor. Jamir ran over to a corner of the living room, where he pulled out a toy car and started to play with it.
“I got to go pick Will up. I’ll be right back.”
Chantel did not respond. She just looked at Jamal’s duffel bag. Finally, she said, “Are we going to talk before you leave?”
“Baby, I can’t do this right now. We’ve agreed that this is the right thing.”
“No, you made a decision, and I guess if I’m going to be a Christian woman, I got to live with you putting your foot down.”
Jamal prayed that whatever tight spot Will was in, he could hold on for just one moment. “Chantel, I love you, but I’m not going to be married without God’s covering. We won’t make it.”
“Do you know how hard it was for me to te
ll everyone that we were not getting married in September, but in December instead? Do you know I got family and friends telling me that I’m stupid for waiting? Now you want to move out. I don’t know if I can take too much more of this.”
Jamal did not have time for this, but at the same time he could not have his fiancée thinking that she was a fool.“Do you think you’re foolish for waiting for me?”
“No, but I just wonder why there are so many obstacles in our way if this is really meant to happen.”
Jamal wondered the same thing. It seemed like the more he and Chantel tried to build a life together, the more difficult it became. “I love you, and I want this to work.”
“I guess you’re not the only one who has a lot to think about this weekend.” Chantel walked over to Jamir. “Go get your friend.”
Jamal did not head out the door. Instead, he walked over to Jamir and gave him a kiss on the forehead. He took Chantel by the hand and gave her a kiss too. “I love you, and we’re going to be okay.”
“I love you too.” Chantel gave Jamal a kiss on the cheek.
Jamal allowed the taste of Chantel’s lips on his to linger as he sprinted out the door to his friend’s aid.
“You hate me, don’t you?” Will’s mother asked in such a low tone, Will wondered if he was meant to hear her question.
“I don’t hate you.” Will took another peek out the window. “I just don’t understand.”
“Understand what?”
“How two people could have children and not really care about them. If you just wanted it to be you and Dad, then there’s pills for that.”
“You think you know everything. That Bible has made you as ignorant as ever.”
Will moved away from the window and had a seat. “Help me understand.”
“You won’t.” Will’s mother leaned back on the couch. “You’re just as stubborn as your father.”
“Try!”
A second turned into a long moment, and in between there were no words spoken. Then Will’s mother sat forward and took a drag of what was left of her cigarette. She allowed both the smoke and a tear to escape. “The moment you were born, you were so precious that I knew that Odell and I didn’t deserve you. I knew that we would find a way to screw it up somehow. I hated myself because of you. I knew I wasn’t good enough, so what was the point in trying?”
