by Linda Verji
“There.” She drew his attention as she stepped back and returned to her seat. “You’re actually not that bad.”
“Are you sure he’s comfortable?” Kian said as he looked down at the baby cradled against his chest, the blue of his jean dungarees matching with Kian’s royal blue shirt.
“Trust me,” Tasha said as she tilted her hair so that the hairdresser could flat iron a section of her hair, “if he wasn’t comfortable, you’d know.”
Babies weren’t so bad. There something powdery good about the way Ash smelled that made you want to tuck your nose into him. Kian couldn’t resist taking another whiff of the baby’s scent as he settled on the chair that Asia had vacated.
It seemed that his carrying the baby had broken some kind of ice because soon Asia uncurled herself from her mother and inched closer to him so she could play with Ash. She still answered his questions with three words or less, but she didn’t pull away when he stroked her hair.
Even as the hairdresser worked on her hair, Tasha silently watched them. She neither smiled nor frowned, but Kian knew that her mind was working. Was she giving and deducting points for how he was interacting with her children? Was she comparing him to Polo? Speaking of, where was that…
“The king is here.” Polo sauntered into the studio with a wide grin on his face.
CHAPTER 6
“I heard your interview on Power 97, yester….” Big Polo’s words were interrupted by a bout of coughing and wheezing that rattled his whole body and shook the wheelchair that he was seated on. He pulled the mask hooked to the oxygen tank attached to his wheelchair and took a deep whiff from it. Breathing restored, he said, “…yesterday. That bitch played you for a fool.”
“I handled it, Sir” Polo returned. The interviewer, one of these ball-bursting feminists, had gone in on him for having seven kids and only one was his wife’s. It had degraded into an argument where Polo had told her what she needed was someone to fuck her. Kian Harper hadn’t been happy about it afterwards – but what was Polo supposed to do? Take a woman mouthing off at him lying down? Wrong guy! Bitch was lucky she’d walked away without his fist meeting her mouth.
“You ain’t handled shit,” his father refuted. “But I’m not surprised. It takes a real man to handle a woman like that.”
Huh! Cause you’re a real man! Polo didn’t say the words nor change his expression because he knew that even in weakness, Polo Nelson the First was still in charge. Big Polo was the only man that Polo feared. He’d instilled that fear with his belt, fists and words that even now with him in a wheelchair, Polo still couldn’t stand up to the older man. When Big Polo had summoned him and his family to Savannah, despite Kian’s demands that he still had interviews, he’d packed up Tasha and the kids into an airplane and brought his ass home.
They were in Big Polo’s office or his ‘seat of power’ as he like to call it. Like the rest of the mansion, it was excessively large. When Polo was younger its size had seemed monstrous. He’d always assumed that the dark wood paneling that lined the walls had been painted in blood, because when the sun reflected on their surface, they looked almost red. Now that he was older he knew that it was only his over-active imagination fuelled by fear that had turned the office into a room of horror, but that didn’t change anything. He still didn’t like being in here.
Most of his lickings had been in this room. He could still remember Big Polo ordering him to strip completely naked, clearing the large mahogany desk that dominated the room then ordering him to lie down on it. In his younger days Big Polo had been merciless. Even the smallest crime like not meeting their touchdown goal for the school year, had been enough to get him almost stripped of his skin. The physical violence had only stopped when Polo had by-passed Big Polo’s height at seventeen – but the emotional attacks still continued.
Sometimes Polo had wondered if it was because he was his father’s only child that Big Polo had been so hard on him. But then again if it wasn’t for Big Polo he probably wouldn’t have made it as far as he’d done with football. Polo had never been sure whether he loved or hated his father – but he’d always respected him. He’d taught him how not to break even when you were pushed to the limit.
“I don’t even know why you’re even taking this crap from this Harper guy,” Big Polo said. “You should be shopping for another team that can keep their neck out your business.”
“Nobody will touch me, sir.”
“Cause you’re a fucker who can’t handle his bitches.” Big Polo summarized. He burst into another fit of coughs before using the mask to get some more oxygen. He continued, “What’d I tell you about these hoes?”
Head bent, Polo obediently recited, “Keep ‘em on a leash so tight, they open their mouths and they choke.”
His father had never been against him having many women. In fact he’d encouraged it to the point where at sixteen he’d created an entry point direct from the outside to their basement so that Polo’s ‘little hoes’ wouldn’t have to use the front door. Big Polo himself hadn’t bothered to hide his numerous extra-marital affairs going as far as to introduce Polo to some of them and even letting one fuck him out of his virginity while he watched. Back then people weren’t as uptight as they were now. Back then all people cared about was the game.
“Yet you’ve still got them running around telling everyone you’re the father of their babies.” Big Polo gave his son a disgusted look. “What? You don’t know what a condom is now?”
“I know what it is, sir.”
“And why you shooting at people? You too weak to use those big hands?”
“No, sir.” Polo tried to explain, “They came into my house and-”
“I don’t want to hear your excuses. I want to see that you’re not gonna drop the ball on the Polo Nelson legacy. I worked too hard to build it. You hear me, Boy?”
“Yes, sir.” Polo returned even though he was sure that he was the one who’d built the Polo Nelson legacy. Even though Big Polo had been a pretty good running back, Polo had far exceeded any of his achievements. He was determined to get himself a spot on the hall of fame before he retired from football just to prove to Big Polo that he really was better than him; even if he had to kowtow to Harper to keep his spot on the Firebacks
“Good. Now get me a cigar.” Big Polo gestured towards a row of drawers on the right wall next to the shelf of tomes that looked almost as new as they day they’d been bought. “They’re in the third drawer.”
Ain’t this what got you on the wheelchair in the first place? Polo walked to the drawer, pulled it open only to find it yawningly empty. “There’s nothing here.”
“Go ask your mother if she’s moved them.”
Polo strode out of Big Polo’s office and headed to the kitchen still smarting from the verbal flogging he’d just received. As usual the fact that his father’s house was smaller than his was enough to soothe at least a part of his humiliation. Big Polo could talk big but Polo knew he was the better man when it came to putting words into action.
He found his mother in the kitchen. Ruth was seated at the kitchen island, a glass of wine in front of her and a smoking cigar between her fingers. She chuckled. “You know he’s gonna smoke some time anyway, we might as well start him in advance.”
Tasha who was by the sink washing dishes retorted. “No, you’re not even allowed near Ash with those nasty…” Her voice drifted into silence when she noticed him standing at the door.
If there was anything Polo was proud of was, it was how poised and polished Tasha was. You’d never find Tasha seated in the kitchen in a bathrobe, her hair netted up, smoking and drinking in the middle of the day like Ruth.
However he had to admit, his mother looked much better than he’d seen her look in a while. Despite the wardrobe disaster, it was obvious she’d lost a lot of weight, her eyes were livelier, and she was laughing. It looked like she’d had some work done too. The wrinkles that had always lined her brow and eyes had been wiped out. The big scar
across her cheek was still there but it didn’t look so bad now.
Polo had been about nine when Big Polo had created that scar by throwing a bottle at Ruth. Polo had rushed to her trying to wipe her bleeding face with his t-shirt. She’d pushed him away saying she needed to clean the shards of glass from the floor. It was the day Polo had lost any respect for her. If she couldn’t stand up for herself how was she even going to protect him? From then on it was every man for himself!
“Mom, where are Pops cigars?” he asked.
“Who’s asking?”
“Pops.”
“Tell him to go fuck himself.” Ruth turned back to her conversation with Tasha.
Looked like it was Big Polo who couldn’t handle his women!
*
Tasha watched Polo march out the kitchen before asking, “What if he tells Big Polo what you said?”
“What’s the worst he could do? Cough at me?” Ruth shrugged. “Why are you washing those dishes anyway? We’ve got a maid, you know.”
“I guess I’m just used to it.”
“Him too?” Ruth shook her head. “Big Polo wouldn’t let me hire anyone either. He had these lists where he’d write down what he wanted done for the day. Number one; iron the shirts. Two; polish the stairs, vacuum all the carpets, wipe the chandeliers. Had me running around like a goddamn house-slave the whole day!”
“I’m sorry.” Tasha felt obliged to apologize. Sometimes when she thought she had it real bad, she compared herself to Ruth. At least Polo didn’t have lists. He controlled the money and her movements but he didn’t have lists. Maybe it was their mutual suffering that had built the air of camaraderie that had developed between her and Ruth.
“Don’t apologize. Now I’m the one taping lists on his oxygen tank.” Ruth lifted her glass and toasted Tasha with a wide grin.
Despite herself, Tasha laughed. “You’re horrible.”
“I know. It’s this new thing I’m trying.” Ruth preened in her chair, turning to and fro to show her new body and ripping off her hairnet to reveal the long weave underneath. “Working, isn’t it?”
“You look amazing.”
“Thank you. Thank you. Just getting my Ruth on.” Ruth flipped her long tresses with her fingers. “I’m even dating now.”
“Dating?” Tasha wasn’t even sure she wanted to know what that meant.
“Yess. Girl, sex after menopause is just…it’s just wow.” Ruth blew out a breath as she sat back in her seat. “You just be patient. The other one’s gon’ get a head injury or something soon enough and then you’ll get your Tasha back too.”
By ‘the other one’ Tasha assumed Ruth meant Polo. While Polo treated his father like he was a god, he and his mother acted like they were practically strangers. Tasha wished she could say she didn’t understand the screwed-up dynamics of the Nelson family but she understood them all too well. If she’d known that she was walking into the same shit she’d grown up in, she’d have taken her pregnant ass to a pregnant-teens home or something instead. Hindsight was cruel!
However that didn’t mean that she was going to let her future play out as Ruth’s had. Who had the patience to suffer an abusive husband for twenty plus years? And let Asia and Ash turn out as Polo had? As soon as Asia had her kidney, they were hightailing it out of there.
Later in the day, they took a flight back home. As expected Polo was in a bad mood – he always was after a visit to Big Polo. Tasha and the kids stuck to the back of the private plane avoiding him. As soon as they landed, Polo handed her some money and ordered her to take a cab home because he was using the car and drove off to God knows where leaving them at the terminal.
Ash turned out to be a boon because people were all too willing to give up their cab for a new mother and her children. Soon they were on their way home. Darkness was already settling in and Asia and Ash were asleep by the time the cab pulled up at the gates and hooted.
“Wake up, baby.” Tasha nudged Asia awake as they waited for the security guard to open the gates. Within seconds one side of the gate swung open and the security guard came out, peering into the cab to see its occupants. Tasha stuck her head out the back window. “It’s just me.”
“Oh, sorry, Ma’am.” He rushed to throw both gates wide open.
As soon as they drove into the estate, she noticed the figure seated on the front step. With the cab’s interior lights on, it was hard to see who it was. The person stood up and the car-lights revealed it to be a heavyset girl with curly hair held back by a band and spectacles. At first Tasha didn’t recognize who it was.
Even before Tasha was fully out of the car, the girl was rushing towards her. “Ti Ti.”
The instant Tasha heard that name she knew who it was. She gasped, “Jazzy?”
The last time she’d seen Jaslene, she was a skinny twelve year old tearfully waving good-bye from the window of their shared room as Tasha limped away. Nine years later and she couldn’t prevent the tears from slipping as she hugged her sister with the arm that wasn’t holding a swathed Ash to her chest.
“Ti Ti.” Jaslene burst into tears too, tucking her head into Tasha’s shoulder and wrapping her arms around her waist. Tasha awkwardly patted the rucksack on Jaslene’s bag as they hugged.
“Hey, I got fares to pick up,” The cabbie interrupted their tearful reunion a few minutes later.
“Sorry,” Tasha apologized as she fished her purse from the car and handed him some money. Asia had fallen asleep again so after handing Ash to Jaslene, she carried her out of the car.
“How are Mommy and Dad?” Tasha asked as she ascended the stairs. There was no answer so she turned back to check if Jaslene had stayed out. Nope! She was right behind her. That bad!
Once Asia was settled in her room and Ash in his crib by the master bed, Tasha patted the covers beside her urging her sister to sit down. “You look really good.”
“You don’t have to lie,” Jaslene said in a matter-of-fact tone as she settled next to her. “I know I’m fat.”
“No, you’re no-”
“You’ve got a really nice house,” Jaslene interrupted her. Her eyes scanned the room as she said, “At least he’s got money even if he’s a douche.”
“Who?”
“Polo!” Jaslene said. “I google you every day.”
How embarrassing even the sister she hadn’t seen in nine years knew about Polo. “What have you been doing with yourself?”
“I’m at NYU now.” Jaslene added morosely, “or at least I was.”
What? Her sister had just been a few miles away and she didn’t know. “You should’ve called.”
“Dad said if I so much as sent you an e-mail, he was going to stop paying my fees.”
It looked like The Reverend was up to his old tricks. When his fists couldn’t work, he’d always resorted to blackmail. “What happened?”
“It wasn’t my fault.” Jaslene rushed to defend herself.
“It’s okay Jazzy, you can tell me.”
“So there’s this guy who’s in college with me and he kept on hitting on me even though I told him that I just wanted to concentrate on my studies,” Jaslene explained. “Dad saw his texts on my phone and now he wants to transfer me to a women’s college.”
Jaslene had always been the studious one of the family. By ten she was the one tutoring Tasha in Math. “Didn’t you tell him that it was the boy who was bothering you?”
“I did, but you know Dad.” Jaslene burst out in frustration, “That college doesn’t even have a computer science course. But he said that I was just going to be someone’s wife anyway so that wasn’t important. When I refused he said that either I go to the college or leave his house…” Her words trailed off leaving Tasha to summarize what she’d chosen.
“Wow.” Tasha said. The Reverend had kicked her out for getting pregnant and not being smart enough to get an abortion. Now he had a dream child who was only interested in her studies and that wasn’t enough for him? “How did you even get here?”
“Jazzy-”
Jaslene rushed on, “I know it’s a lot to ask and you’ve got stuff you’re dealing with. But I’ve already lined up a job and the Dean said she’d get me a partial sponsorship. I just need a place to stay ‘til I get on my feet.”
“Oh, Jazzy!” Tasha sighed.
Could matters get anymore complicated?
CHAPTER 7
“Harper, I do not like this scheme of yours,” Rafe pronounced flatly. They were seated at their regular corner at Nox and the usual calm and collected Raphael Cavos was looking decidedly green at the gills. Considering the request Kian had just made, it was understandable.
“You’re the one who got me into this,” Kian insisted. “What? Are you chickening out now that you’ve actually seen what I can do? Rise of the Nelson was trending on Twitter this week.”
“Please!” Rafe scoffed. “A hash tag means nothing. You and I both know that it is only a matter of time before he does something stupid to unravel all your work. I heard his interview on Power 97.”
“Care to put your money where your mouth is, Cavos?” Kian wheedled, playing on his friend’s inability to resist a challenge.
“Madre do Dios! Dahlia is going to kill me if she finds out what we are about to do.” Rafe sighed deeply.
Kian’s face broke into a grin. “Don’t worry! Nelson’s not gon’ ruin your wife’s fundraiser.”
“It is not the fundraiser that worries me. It is the events leading up to it,” Rafe said.
“So don’t tell her.” Kian shrugged. The event would probably be too crowded with New York’s elite for Dahlia to notice him. Polo’s attendance was only so that the papers could capture him entering, buying something ridiculously expensive and then leaving.
