Diamond Life

by Aliya S. King

  Everything he did to her was brand new, which made it feel brand new to him as well. He remembered that first night. The second time, when he was able to move inside her, she asked, “How will I know when I’m coming?” and Ras had laughed. Five minutes later, Josephine was shaking and whimpering in his arms. “That’s how you’ll know,” he’d said, before rolling her over for round three.

  “You were my first,” Josephine said, a slight smile playing on her lips. When she opened her eyes, the depth of the hatred inside them almost made Ras jump.

  “But you won’t be my last,” she said.

  Ras dropped her wrists, pulled back his hand, and slapped his wife’s face before he could think twice. The baby heard the loud noise and began to cry.

  Josephine kept her head down and rubbed her cheek with her hand. She tossed her hair back, stood up straight, and looked at her husband.

  “You want to do that again? I’m sure the baby would love to have that burned in her memory. Go ahead. Smack me again.”

  Ras saw the red handprint clearly across the right side of his wife’s face. Every finger was outlined, the pinkie finger right underneath her ear. A tiny line of blood began to drip out of her ear and onto the shoulder of her suit. Ras was in disbelief. His wife, the only woman he’d ever loved in this world besides his own mother, was standing before him, bloodied by his own hand.

  “I’m going to get in the car and go to my office now,” Josephine said. “Are you sure you don’t want to hit me again?”

  “Who was he?” Ras asked.

  “He was a man. A man who said that this right here, this part of me?” Josephine motioned between her legs. “He said this was like an orchid, waiting to bloom. And Ras? He opened it up. And now I’ve got a fucking bouquet up in this piece.”

  Ras grabbed Josephine’s face and squeezed hard. More blood dribbled from her ear.

  “And tonight, I will see him and he will tend to my cuts and my bruises from you. And he will make me well and tell me that everything will be okay. And it will be.” Josephine smiled again. And Ras noticed that the gums under her cheek were also bleeding. Yet she didn’t look like she was in any pain at all. His wife walked around to the driver’s side of her car, got inside, and settled the baby with a cup of juice and a few soft words. She turned around, looked at herself in the rearview mirror. She looked at Ras and mouthed the words “Thank you” before pulling off.

  For weeks, Z had tried to get his wife to talk to him. And for weeks, he got barely more than a one-word response to anything he said. Every time he tried to bring up Alex, Beth lifted a hand and stopped him, whispering, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “We have to talk about it,” Z would say, “because you’re wrong.”

  And Beth would just walk away.

  “What did you do?” Zakee asked Z one morning, as he drove the kids to school.

  “What do you mean, what did I do?”

  “Mom’s mad at you.”

  “Doesn’t mean I did something.”

  Z looked in the rearview mirror and saw Zakee and his brother Zach exchange a quick glance. Z pulled over to the side of the road, threw the car in park, and turned around to face his children.

  “Y’all know I am not perfect. I haven’t always made the right choices. But I’ve never tried to hide anything. I am not the man I used to be. I’m getting better every single day. I would never put my hands on your mother—”

  “Again,” Zakee mumbled under his breath.

  “I will never put my hands on her again. Anything else?”

  “Yeah,” said Zakee. “How many other children do you have besides us?”

  Z exhaled loudly through his mouth. He knew this day was coming. He just hadn’t prepared for it. In fifteen years of marriage, he’d cheated on Beth more times than he could count. He was fairly certain that he’d had sex more with other women than he’d had sex with his own wife. And the kids? Beth had a better idea on a head count than he did. The women always came to her when it was time to talk lawyers and child support.

  There were many things Z had done in his life that made him look back and shudder. None more so than the number of outside children he’d inflicted on Beth. Z turned around, put the car in drive, and pulled back onto the street.

  “I have a daughter in Seattle,” Z began, his eyes on the road. “And a set of twins in Virginia who are four. We never did a paternity test so I don’t know for sure. And I have two boys in Miami.”

  “And that’s it?” Zach asked.

  “All he knows about,” said Zakee. He sucked his teeth and kept his head turned toward the window.

  “Look,” Z said, “This is not easy for me. But I want to be honest with both of you. Same way I want you to be honest with me—about anything.”

  “Mommy’s been crying a lot. Again.”

  “Your mom’s going through some things right now.”

  “She’s always going through something,” Zakee yelled out. “Because of you!”

  Z kept one hand on the steering wheel and turned back slightly with his other hand raised to slap Zakee in the face. He stopped himself and turned back around quickly, just in time to slam hard on the brakes to avoid hitting the car in front of him.

  “Zakee, leave him alone before you get us all killed!” Zach said to his older brother.

  “No, you leave me alone,” Zakee said. “He’s never here. Mommy’s always crying. We have to end up taking care of the baby. Zander’s off doing his own thing. It’s not fair.”

  “Life’s not fair,” said Zach.

  Z stayed quiet. He pulled up in front of the school, parked the car, and got out. He went over to the passenger side and opened the door.

  “Boo’s picking you all up at three o’clock,” said Z. “Be ready.”

  “I don’t want him picking us up,” said Zakee.

  Z visibly struggled to keep his composure.

  “Don’t tell me what you want,” he said, his teeth clenched. “I didn’t ask you what you wanted.”

  “I don’t want Boo picking us up!” Zakee said, his voice raised.

  Z exhaled. Having his son raising his voice at him in broad daylight was worthy of an ass beating. But he felt too guilty to discipline his son for anything.

  It had been going on for months. As soon as Z got his act together and started being more involved in the boys’ day-to-day lives, Zakee had become the lippy one, mouthing off about everything and constantly giving Z the stink eye. It’s just a phase, Z continually reminded himself. It was his punishment for being nonexistent for most of Zakee’s life. Z realized that he was like a brand-new parent to him. Much like a stepparent you don’t ask for. Or some new guy your mom is dating that you don’t want telling you what to do.

  Z got back in the car. His youngest son, Zeke, was still sleeping in the back seat, oblivious to all the drama. When Z closed the door and restarted the car, Zeke woke up and began to whimper and whine.

  He raised his head and rubbed his eyes with his fist.

  “Where’s Zakee and Zachary?”

  “They went to school.”

  “Now where are we going?”

  “Zeke, you know Daddy loves you, right?” said Z, pulling into a K-turn.

  “Daddy, you always say that!”

  “Listen to me,” Z said. “I want you to know that no matter what, I love you very much. Do you hear me?”

  “Daddy, are you mad at me?”

  “Do you hear me?” Z said again, his voice booming loud enough to make Zeke jump in his car seat.

  “Yes, Daddy,” Zeke said. He stuck his thumb in his mouth and let his head fall over to rest on his shoulder.

  Back at home, Z pulled Zeke out of his car seat and carried him into the house. As soon as he opened the door, he saw Beth in the kitchen, feeding the baby, who was sitting in her high chair, blowing food playfully out of her mouth.

  “Go upstairs to your room for a little bit.”

  Zeke vanished and Z stood in the do
orway of the kitchen, watching Beth attempt to keep most of the food in the baby’s mouth.

  “What’s going on with Zakee?” Z asked. Beth kept her back to him.

  “Nothing,” she said.

  “He told me you’ve been crying a lot lately and it’s my fault.”

  Beth said nothing.

  “Beth,” Z whispered, “can you please fucking talk to me?”

  “Don’t curse in front of the baby,” Beth said, still keeping her back to Z.

  Z walked out into the hallway and called out for the nanny. From far away, Z heard the nanny’s voice.

  “I’m here,” she said.

  Z went into the kitchen and scooped the baby out of her high chair over Beth’s protests.

  “She’s not done eating,” said Beth. “Put her down.”

  Z walked out of the kitchen with the baby. The nanny came to the top of the steps holding Zeke’s hand.

  “Mr. Saddlebrook, you called me?” she said.

  “Can you keep an eye on Kipenzi for a minute?” he asked. He walked up the stairs and put the baby in the nanny’s arms.

  “Let’s go,” he said to Beth, pointing to the kitchen.

  “I don’t want to talk.”

  Z grabbed her arm and pushed her into the kitchen.

  “We’re talking anyway.”

  “What are you going to do? Knock my teeth out because I don’t want to talk to you?”

  “I’m not going to touch you.”

  “You just grabbed my arm,” Beth said.

  Z sat at the kitchen table and pointed to the chair next to him.

  “Sit,” he said.

  “Say whatever you have to say.”

  “What’s wrong, Beth? Please tell me. I can’t change anything if you won’t tell me what’s wrong.”

  “You can’t change anything anyway.”

  Z ran his hands over his face.

  “Why do you say that?”

  Tears began to stream down Beth’s face. Z stood up and took her into his arms. She leaned into him—finally giving in—and cried hard.

  “What is it, Beth?”

  His wife just cried harder, her back shaking as she tried to catch her breath.

  “I don’t know. It’s just . . . I’m so sorry about accusing you of messing with Alex. My head has just been all over the place. I want to trust you but . . .”

  Z pulled away from Beth and lifted her chin up so that he could look her in the eye.

  “I’m different now, Beth,” said Z. “But I swear to God, I don’t love you any less. If anything, I love you more.”

  Beth’s knees buckled and Z had to grab her and hold her by the waist to keep her from falling.

  “Baby! Look at me!”

  “I can’t.”

  Something in the way Beth said this chilled Z.

  “Why can’t you?”

  Beth kept her head down and fought against Z as he tried to lift her head up to face him.

  “I just can’t, Z,” Beth said, through tears. “Just leave me alone. Please.”

  Z let go of Beth and moved back.

  “I’ll be in the studio if you want to talk.”

  Beth nodded, her head down. She walked out of the kitchen and up the stairs, following the direction of the kids’ laughter.

  In the studio, Z attempted to stay focused on the song he was trying to write for Kipenzi’s tribute album. But all he could think about was how Zakee acted in the car that morning. And why Beth couldn’t look him in the face. His mind kept racing between both moments. Zakee cursing him out; Beth falling apart.

  He put aside his lyrics notebook and grabbed the pull-up bar near the mixing boards. One. Two. Three. Z got into a groove and felt beads of sweat begin to pour down his forehead. Physical movement always helped him think straight. He discovered that in rehab. One thing Z knew for certain: if Beth couldn’t get it together, they weren’t going to make it. He racked his brain, trying to figure out how he could help. He could stop working on the book with Alex. But he didn’t want Beth to think she could wild out on any situation and he would just drop it. He’d signed a book deal to deliver a book and he planned to honor that. They could go to counseling. Z was already seeing a therapist once a week. And his daily twelve-step meetings were a form of counseling. But he’d see a marriage counselor too if it meant he could get to the root of Beth’s issues.

  “Pop, what’s up?” said Zander, coming down the steps to the studio.

  Z dropped down from the push-up bar and turned to face his son.

  “I thought you were in LA?”

  “Just got back. What’s going on?’”

  “Working on this song for Kipenzi’s tribute album. How are you?”

  “Just finished a track that is fire, Dad. I’m serious.”

  “I believe you.”

  “Jake hit me up,” said Zander. “He said he wanted to talk to both of us. What’s that about?”

  Z shrugged.

  “I told him you were out of town. We can get with him this week. So you’ve been working on music?”

  Zander beamed.

  “Yeah. And I want you on one song.”

  “Send it to me,” said Z, smiling. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “I’m about to break it off with Bunny.”

  Z exhaled and sat down at the mixing console. Zander sat next to him and leaned back as far as he could in the chair.

  “What made you come to your senses?”

  “I think she’s cheating on me.”

  “Why would you think that?”

  “Just lately, she’s been acting weird. Not looking me in the eye. Crying all the time. Never—”

  Z jumped up so fast he tripped and nearly fell on top of Zander.

  “Dad, what’s wrong?”

  “I’ll be back,” said Z. He ran up the stairs into the kitchen and then up the second flight of stairs. He walked down the hallway, throwing open bedroom doors. They were all empty. He came back down the stairs and walked through the foyer to the family room. Zeke was playing with toys on the floor. Beth was sleeping on the couch. Z stopped. This morning’s words kept flooding his mind: Look at me. I can’t. Look at me. I can’t.

  In nearly twenty years, it had never dawned on Z that Beth could be unfaithful to him. He would have bet money that it just wasn’t possible. Her love for him was so overwhelming that she seemed to barely have time for herself, much less another man. Z’s grandmother always told him that in a relationship, the grass might be greener on the other side—but only if you weren’t watering your own lawn.

  Z sat down next to Beth on the couch, moving slowly so he would not wake her. As far as he knew, she’d never lied to him. If he woke her up right then and asked her if she’d cheated, he knew for sure she’d tell him the truth. The question was did he want to know? Z sat back and closed his eyes. A parade of women danced before him. Groupies giving him blow jobs backstage at concerts. Women he brought back to this very house, into the basement. Women he’d had sex with while his wife was right upstairs sleeping. Outside babies born, at least one every other year.

  Z leaned over and kissed Beth on the forehead. Did he have to ask? Did he already know? Was there anything to know? Z pulled a small blanket over her and then sat down on the floor with Zeke and played with him for the rest of the morning.

  Zander raced into his hotel room, throwing the door open and looking all around.

  “Bunny!” he yelled out. There was no reply and he ran into the bedroom and looked in the closets, the bathroom, and the minikitchen.

  Back in the front room, he turned around and around, running his hands over his mouth. Where would she be? He dropped his head into his hands and rubbed his hair. The day before, he’d been texting back and forth with Bunny on his cell. He’d broken up with her—finally. She was pissed off but seemed ready to move on. And then this morning, one of her friends called and said that she was worried because Bunny had stayed up all night drinking and smoking weed.

  Za
nder knew Bunny just wanted him to call and he refused to give in. He called his father instead, who told him he was doing the right thing and not to let her manipulate him. And then he got a text message from Bunny. She asked if she could come to the hotel. Her text messages were garbled and incoherent. Zander did not respond.

  It wasn’t until her girlfriend called again that Zander got worried. She asked him if he was with Bunny. He said no and she groaned. She said Bunny had gone outside, saying that Zander was sending a car to pick her up and bring her to the Parker Meridien. No one had seen her since. Reluctantly, Zander agreed to go to the hotel and see if he could find her.

  In the lobby, there were two police officers talking to a receptionist. Zander walked by slowly and listened in. The woman behind the desk was talking about an intoxicated woman wandering around the lobby, half-dressed and babbling. “I’ve seen her on television,” the woman said. Zander took the stairs up to his suite.

  He just wanted to find her before the police did. He decided he would get her cleaned up—at least a bit. And then call her manager Robert to pick her up. But he’d come into the room and saw no signs of her. Someone banged on the door and Zander rushed over to open it. It was Robert.

  “What have you done now?” he said in his stilted British accent.

  “I didn’t do anything. We’re not even together anymore.”

  “You could have waited until we shot this video to dump her. We’re losing money every hour she’s not on set.”

  “I’m sorry that my life decisions are inconvenient for you.”

  Robert pushed Zander’s shoulder hard enough that he fell back a few steps but caught himself from falling on the floor.

  “Look here, you little pisser,” Robert hissed. “You’re the one who kept her in tears when you started cheating on her with your little groupies. And then you punched her in the face last year and that still wasn’t enough.”

  “You don’t even know what happened!” Zander protested. “She started—”

  “And you knocked her front tooth out? You need to be locked up. If Bunny were my daughter, I’d kick your ass all around this hotel room right now.”