A little giggle escapes my lips as I say amen, but Darrin does not seem to be amused. He doesn’t relax until we’re driving away from my house and out of Daddy’s view.
When we’re a safe distance away, I say, “Darrin, you should’ve seen your face when Daddy was praying about being chaste and holy.”
“You were supposed to have your eyes closed! Why were you looking at me instead of reflecting on the goodness of God?”
That tickles me even more. “My dad is just tripping because he’s never seen me with a man before. Plus, he’s spooked by Sascha’s pregnancy.”
“I am insulted. I do not wish to be judged by another man’s sins.”
“Wow, that was deep.”
“I’m a deep brotha.”
I see the top of the opened DNA test box in my bag, and I start thinking about what it means if Kumal Jr. is my brother. Is he going to become part of our family, or is Mother still going to pretend that he doesn’t exist?
“A dollar for your thoughts,” says Darrin.
“A dollar?”
“Well, a penny isn’t much money, and you’re thinking hard over there.”
“I was just thinking about Kumal Jr. I can’t believe I might really have a big brother out here. It’s mind boggling.”
“I’ve always wished I had a sibling.”
Here’s my chance. “So tell me about your childhood,” I say.
“You’re serious?” he asks.
“Yes. We’ve got a four-hour drive.”
Darrin sighs. “There’s really not much to tell. I went to a private boys’ school and participated in my mother’s Jack and Jill club functions.”
“Jack and Jill? Y’all must be old money.”
“Not really. One of my mother’s friends invited her to become a member.”
“Still.”
Darrin continues, “My father worked a lot, so I don’t have many family-type memories. Me and my mother took vacations to Martha’s Vineyard in the summertime, and that was fun.”
Jack and Jill? Martha’s Vineyard? His mother’s going to think I’m some country bumpkin. “Do you think your mother would like me?” I ask.
Darrin’s right eyebrow goes up. “You planning on meeting her anytime soon?”
“I don’t know.”
“I’m messing with you,” Darrin says with a smile. “She’d love you, even though you’re her polar opposite.”
“What does that mean?”
“You’re independent, free-spirited, and sassy. She’s totally dependent on my father, reserved, and very, very polite.”
My eyes widen. “I’m not polite?”
“Not really,” says Darrin with a straight face.
“What?”
“You’re pretty sarcastic.”
I cross my arms. “Okay, right. I am sarcastic, I am free-spirited, and I am your boo. What?”
Darrin looks over at me and starts laughing. “You are crazy, girl.”
“Enough about me. I want to ask you something, and I want you to be one hundred percent honest.”
Darrin takes an eerie pause before responding. “Okay.”
“What happened with you and Dorcas? You and her were kicking it strong, and then all of a sudden it’s about me and you. What did I miss?”
Darrin grins and drums his fingers on the steering wheel. “I’m not the man she was looking for. It’s that simple.”
“Oh, you’re going to take the high road, I see.”
“Nothing bad happened with me and Dorcas. I’m just more attracted to you.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“You don’t believe me?”
“Sure I do.”
Why am I disappointed that nothing “bad” happened? I want something very bad to have happened. Something so bad that he wouldn’t be tempted to try things out again with her if things get a little rocky with me.
Darrin puts a CD in the player, and we sing to old-school Mary J Blige and SWV. He knows more of the words than I do, but I’ve got a better voice. This is fun, and it’s helping take my mind off of what’s troubling me to the bone.
My pulse starts to race when Darrin pulls up to the restaurant where I’m to meet Kumal Jr. I’m nervous beyond belief and shaking like a leaf.
“Do you want me to go in with you?” he asks.
“Please do.”
Always the gentleman, Darrin opens my door. My heart flutters even more when he puts his arm around my shoulders. I’m sure he has no idea how much I appreciate his support.
“Do you think he’ll take the DNA test?” I ask Darrin.
“I don’t see why not. But don’t worry about that at first. Just get to know him.”
We walk into the restaurant, and Kumal Jr. is waiting in the reception area. He stands when he sees me and Darrin. It is uncanny how much he looks like Daddy. Right down to the smile he’s beaming over to me. “You came,” he says. “I wasn’t sure you really would.”
I stretch out my arms for a hug. “Of course I’m here. I want to know all about you.”
“Same here,” he responds.
Kumal shakes Darrin’s hand, and they exchange greetings. “You her boyfriend?” Kumal asks.
“Yes. Yes, I am.”
“Thanks for coming with her.”
We follow the hostess to our table, which is a booth. Darrin and I sit on one side, and Kumal Jr. sits across from us.
“So, how is my father?” Kumal asks with a chuckle.
“Daddy is surprisingly fine. Everything is normal at home.”
“I’m not surprised. He’s known about me since I was little.”
I’m about to reply when the waitress comes to take our order. I watch Kumal’s mannerisms, and it’s like I’m seeing my daddy thirty years ago. Kumal’s gestures, vocal intonations, and facial expressions all lend credence to shared DNA.
“So,” I say to Kumal when the waitress is gone, “tell me about yourself. Your life, your mother … do you have a girlfriend?”
“There’s not much to tell. I’m twenty-seven, and I live with my mom. She can’t live on her own right now because she’s sick.”
Darrin asks, “How is it that you knew about Bishop preaching in Savannah that Saturday?”
“I’m a partner at Freedom of Life; I send in my offerings every month, and in exchange, I get to learn a little about my father.”
I add, “Daddy’s itinerary is on the partner newsletters.”
“Why now?” asks Darrin. “What made you want to meet him now?”
Kumal frowns. “Do you question my intentions?”
“I don’t know your intentions at all.”
The waitress brings our drinks, and Kumal glares at Darrin while taking a long sip of his soda. Things are getting a bit chilly in here, and it has nothing to do with the ocean breeze. I try to lighten the mood. “I’m happy you finally got the courage to come out.”
Kumal ignores my statement and responds to Darrin. “My mother is sick, and we’re broke. I was hoping that for once my rich father would acknowledge me and lend some assistance. Does that answer your question?”
“Absolutely.” Darrin smiles as if he’s proved his point, although I don’t know what the point could possibly be.
“We’re not rich, Kumal. Is that what you think?” I say.
He laughs. “Come on, little sister, our father has twenty thousand members. I did the math.”
I don’t know how to prove to him that we’re not rich, so I keep it moving. “You have a brother named Tyler and an even younger sister, Sascha. She’s getting married soon.”
Darrin is quiet and looking at the ocean view from the window. I can tell he doesn’t trust Kumal Jr. I don’t know what to think, either, though I can’t do anything but give this a try.
“Right,” says Kumal. “My mother told me all about them, and about your mother, too.”
“Did Genevieve tell you how she met Daddy? I’ve been wondering, but I’ve been too afraid to ask him.”
“Wow. Y
ou don’t know the story? Well, our father and my mother were high school sweethearts. Then she went to college, and he went to the streets. When she was home visiting one holiday, they reconnected, and he shared his new passion with her—crack cocaine. My mother was an instant addict.”
I’m shaking my head in disbelief. This was not what I wanted to hear. I wanted to learn that Genevieve had turned my father on to drugs, not the opposite.
Kumal continues, “My mother loved our father, and she still loves him.”
“Why didn’t she get clean when he did? Why didn’t they go to rehab together?” My questions are desperate, begging for answers that I don’t want to hear.
“That’s the ten-million-dollar question. My mother says she woke up one morning and he was gone. She didn’t know he’d gone to rehab or anything. A week after that, she found out she was pregnant with me.”
“I don’t know what to say. I’m so sorry.”
Kumal smiles tenderly. “Hey, it’s not your fault. Or mine. We’ve been dealt the hand.”
Darrin asks Kumal, “Will you take a paternity test? We have the equipment right here.”
“And I thought we were having a Hallmark moment,” remarks Kumal in a sarcastic tone.
I say, “If you take the test, I’m sure I can convince Daddy to help you and your mother.”
“He’ll help me whether I take the test or not,” Kumal says, not even trying to hide his scorn.
Darrin clears his throat. “So, are you taking the test?”
“No.”
Now I’m confused. “Why not? You must realize how difficult this is for us! A little more evidence than your mother’s word might help the healing process.”
“My mother’s word is enough for me. To you, she’s a crack whore, but to me, she’s everything—the only person I have.”
I object, “I never said those things about Genevieve.”
“But you’re thinking them. Just like Diana. She’s the one who convinced our father to leave my mother high and dry.”
“But they’ve helped you financially over the years, right?”
“Barely. If you can call it help.”
“Kumal, please take the test,” I beg.
“No. Put yourself in my shoes. Imagine that your father, whom you’ve loved your entire life, asked for a DNA test. How would you feel?”
“I’d be devastated, but this is different, and you know it.”
“Little sister, I am happy you reached out to me, but I won’t take that test.” He stands from the table. “Thank you for coming, but I think our lunch date should end now.”
“We haven’t eaten.”
“I’ve lost my appetite.”
Kumal strides away from the table and out of the restaurant. It is my first instinct to follow him, but Darrin grabs my arm. When I turn to him with tears in my eyes, I see that Darrin has a smile on his face. He dangles the plastic bag from the DNA kit in front of my eyes.
Inside is Kumal’s plastic straw.
Chapter Thirty-one
Darrin
Just got back from my trip to Savannah with Emoni. The ride home was quiet—too quiet. She didn’t want to talk about the lunch date, and I couldn’t think of anything to get her mind off of the ordeal.
I had wanted to use that opportunity to tell her my secret. To divulge the fact that I’m here on a mission—or was on a mission. But I didn’t have the courage to destroy her mood even further.
I’m checking my e-mail, and I have a note from my own personal fatal attraction. It says:
Happy Thanksgiving, boo. I wish I could visit you next week and have some of your infamous sausage dressing. I can’t wait for you to come home so we can rekindle the flames of our romance.
Hugs and kisses,
Shayna
I’m really slipping these days. Shayna is too loose of a loose end to have hanging, but at least I know she’s tucked away in Cleveland and still pining after me.
I peek at the catalog sitting way over on the kitchenette counter. When I decided not to write this story, I applied at a culinary arts school in Savannah, but I haven’t opened the course catalog or the letter that I received from the admissions department. This is going to be my backup plan when Mathis cuts me off from the funds.
I think I’m waiting to see how things pan out with Emoni. Admittedly, I’m nervous about telling her the truth. More nervous than I’ve ever been when dealing with a woman.
Emoni has gotten me to a crazy, unfamiliar place. A land where weddings and Darrin Jr.’s reside. A place where spending the rest of my life with one woman doesn’t seem strange or impossible.
I think I like it here.
A knock on my door invades my thoughts of Emoni. When I look through the peephole and see Oscar’s mean-looking mug, I almost go back to daydreaming. But curiosity, as always, gets the best of me, and I open the door.
“Oscar. Do come in. Have a seat.”
“I don’t need to have a seat.”
I shake my head and roll my eyes. “Sure, then. Stand. I don’t care.”
“Why are you interfering in the Prentisses’ business?” Oscar’s tone is harsh and completely unfriendly.
“What, no small talk?”
“I’m not one of your boys.”
“To answer your question, Emoni asked for my help.”
“Why would she do that?”
“Because you and her father are trying to pretend that everything is fine. It ain’t fine, bro.”
“You don’t know anything about them—especially Emoni. She’ll never be yours.”
I laugh heartily. “Seems like you’re the one who doesn’t know anything about her. If you did, you’d be helping her find out about her brother.”
“I believe Bishop. He says that the man isn’t his son.”
“Believe what you want to believe, but I’m supporting what Emoni wants. Period.”
“You need to stay out of Emoni’s life. I can make things real difficult for you if you don’t.”
“Fool, you threatening me? In my own crib? You need to bounce.”
Oscar sizes me up, and I’m making mental notes about the closest thing I have in proximity to whoop this fool with in case he decides to take the leap. He looks like he might, but then he changes his mind.
“You ain’t even worth it,” he says.
What is this, high school? I don’t respond. I just slam the door in brotha man’s face. It is too late in the evening for this foolishness.
I sit down on my couch and exhale. The sound is loud and labored, as if it’s the last breath I’ll ever expel. I’m under too much stress, because hiding things—that isn’t me. I don’t keep secrets. I’m straightforward and blunt and honest and all those things that people value in someone’s character.
Keeping secrets is not my thing.
Not telling Emoni the truth isn’t like me. It’s so out of character for me that I’m grabbing my gear and rushing to the pool for a late night swim. Need to work off this energy and clear my head. Maybe I’ll think of a way to tell her without telling her.
I almost crash into Dorcas on my way into the gym. We’ve been doing a great job of avoiding each other. We sit on opposite sides of the church, park on opposite sides of the apartment lot, and work out at opposite times of the day. But tonight is not my routine, so I’m crossing paths with yet another Freedom of Life member who doesn’t care for my company.
“Dorcas. Hi.”
“Hello. Should one of us move or something? Is it going to be strange every time we bump into each other?”
Dorcas blinks up at me with a soft and angelic smile on her lips. Maybe she’s forgiven me for seeing Emoni. Maybe she’s just in a good mood.
“It doesn’t have to be. How have you been?” I ask.
She smiles. “I’ve been good.”
“Me, too.”
“Are you going to Bishop’s house on Thanksgiving?”
“I haven’t officially been invited yet.”
“I’m having a get-together for some of the people in the singles’ ministry who don’t have families to go to for the holidays. If you don’t go over there, you’re welcome at my party.”
“Thanks. Why are you being so nice all of a sudden?”
“I know that God is going to send me a husband, and I won’t have to compete for him. So you must not be the one.”
I know it wasn’t meant to be, but Dorcas’s words sound like an insult. Like she’s trying to get the last word.
“I’m glad you’ve made your peace with the scenario.”
Dorcas walks away but then remembers, “Oh, by the way, you have to bring a dish.”
Bringing a dish is the least of my problems.
Chapter Thirty-two
Emoni
Darrin has invited me over for dinner. He says that he has to tell me something important. I know it’s not the DNA test results. Those won’t be here for a few weeks. He sounded so strange when we talked that I’d be lying if I said I’m not nervous.
To keep myself busy until it’s time to go to Darrin’s, I’m helping Mother prepare the house for her yearly Thanksgiving celebration. She’s putting out all of her decorations: turkeys, pilgrims, Native Americans, and every shade of leaf you’d ever want to see.
I’m so fidgety and distracted that I keep dropping things on the floor. What could Darrin want to tell me? What if he wants to break up with me?
I pick up a leaf that has fallen and tack it back in place. Mother smiles at me and asks, “Are you inviting Darrin over for Thanksgiving?”
“I think so.”
“He seems like a good catch. His parents really are as rich as he says they are.”
“Mother, did you do a background check on him?”
“Of course I did. You should’ve done it yourself.”
“I prefer that he just reveal himself to me.”
Mother laughs at me. “No one just reveals himself. Not in a romantic setting. We’re all on best behavior.”
I remember my mother’s words as I walk up to Darrin’s apartment. Has he been on his best behavior this whole time? What if he has some ridiculous flaw that is a total deal breaker?
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