Doing My Own Thing

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Doing My Own Thing Page 7

by Nikki Carter


  I guess this is just something I’ve got to do on my own.

  11

  So I agreed to meet my father at the studio, although I couldn’t bring myself to call him and set it up. He’d left his cell phone number with Big D, but I just couldn’t call. I thought that if I heard his voice on the phone that I’d probably change my mind about the meeting. I had Big D call and set everything up.

  My mom’s words keep ringing in my head. Maybe he’s changed.

  What if he has changed? That would be great, but I don’t know if that means I should let him be a part of my career. I’m thinking he’s gonna have to work his way back up to that status. And what if he doesn’t show up? I don’t know how I would feel about that.

  Shelly’s going to cook us some dinner, and she and Big D are going to be close by, but in another room, in case I need them.

  Big D sits down next to me on the leather couch in the TV room. “You sure you want to do this alone? Maybe your mother should be here with you.”

  “Nah, she didn’t want to come. She wanted me to make up my own mind.”

  “You seem nervous, Sunday. You’re playing with your hands, biting your nails. Chill a little bit.”

  “You’re the one who’s got me nervous!”

  “Okay. My bad. I just know that some things have popped off, and with Carlos getting shot and all, I don’t know what to believe.”

  “You think my dad had something to do with that?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe,” Big D says. “That’s the word on the street.”

  Now that’s just great. I’m about to see my dad for the first time in over five years and Big D drops this bomb on me. So not fair.

  “You know what? I’m not gonna let anything about my mom and dad’s relationship get in this conversation. Just because they’ve got bad blood between them, that doesn’t have anything to do with me.”

  “Okay . . .”

  “And I choose to believe that he didn’t have anything to do with Carlos getting shot until I learn differently.”

  “I feel you on that, baby girl,” Big D says. “Are you ready for Barbados? You got your passport and everything together?”

  A little chuckle escapes from my mouth. “It’s a little late in the day to be checking to see if I have my papers. We leave the day after tomorrow.”

  “I know. I’m just making small talk. Trying to keep you company until your dad gets here.”

  “Thanks, Big D. I appreciate you for that.”

  The doorbell rings, and curiously enough I’m caught off guard. I knew that my father was coming, but I still jumped when the doorbell sounded. Is that an omen or what?

  “Well . . . me and Shelly will be upstairs chilling. Just holla if you need me.”

  “All right.”

  The doorbell rings again, so I go to the door to answer it. I can feel my feet dragging along, as if I don’t want to see my dad. Maybe I’m afraid that after I tell him he’s not going to be in charge of my career, he won’t come back ever again.

  This might be the last time I see him.

  I open the door slowly, holding my breath the whole time. My father is standing there in jeans and a Phat Farm polo, looking almost exactly the same as the last time I saw him, with the exception of a few gray hairs in his goatee.

  He holds his arms out for a hug, and my response is awkward at best. I kind of tumble into his arms in an unsure motion. He even smells the same. He still wears the same perfume my mom used to buy him for his birthday. Cool Water for Men.

  “Sunday . . . wow. . . . You’re . . . you’re grown.”

  I blush and look at my feet. I am grown! I don’t even know how to respond to this.

  “Do you want to come in?”

  I show my father to the leather couch and we both sit down.

  “Big D is doing all right, ain’t he?” my father says as he looks around at all of Big D’s high-tech gadgets.

  “I guess. He works really hard for his artists and gets them good opportunities.”

  “His artists? He doesn’t own you.”

  I see he’s gonna get directly to the point. He’s not even gonna ask me about the last five years of my life? How about a “sorry I haven’t been around”?

  “Nobody owns me, but Big D has my back and watches out for me. He makes sure nobody takes advantage of me.”

  “Who’s watching him?”

  I don’t reply. I gaze at the floor with tears threatening to form in my eyes. This is not how I anticipated our reunion would be.

  He seems to note my sadness, and clears his throat. “How have you and your mother been? Is she still with that Puerto Rican guy?”

  “She’s not with Carlos right now, but we’ve been okay.”

  “I’m glad.”

  “How . . . how have you been?” Is this an appropriate question to ask of someone who just got out of jail? I have no idea.

  “I’m good. Been working hard. Got some business deals going that are really going to pay off.”

  “That’s good.”

  “Yeah, I saw you on TV when I was locked up. That show on BET. The video show.”

  “106 & Park?”

  “Yeah, that’s the one. I saw you and Dreya, and I knew you were finally gonna do it. All that singing you did as a little girl was gonna pay off.”

  I’m still tripping off the fact that my daddy was watching me on TV in jail. This is a wow moment.

  “Yeah, that was a really big deal for us.”

  “And I never knew Dreya had all that attitude! She was working the crowd.”

  My dad jumps up off the couch and does a pretty good imitation of Dreya’s dancing. I cover my mouth, but the laugh still escapes.

  He says, “I wish I had known you were so talented. You could’ve retired your mama a long time ago from that post office.”

  “Better late than never, huh?”

  He sits back down. “Yeah, I hope so. . . .”

  Crap. Crap, crap, crap. I didn’t mean to say that. Especially since he’s a latecomer to the Sunday Tolliver show. It just kinda leaked out.

  “You know, I always managed to make sure you and Shawn were okay,” my dad says. “You might not know about it, but I did send money when I could.”

  “I honestly don’t know. My mom has never said anything about it one way or the other.”

  My Aunt Charlie on the other hand . . . well, let’s just say . . . every negative thing I’ve ever heard about my father came out of her mouth. She can’t stand him and she doesn’t have a problem telling the world.

  “Well, Shawn always was a sweetheart. I should’ve known she wouldn’t talk bad about me.”

  “Can I ask you a question?” I ask.

  “Anything. Ask me anything.”

  “Why are you coming around now? It’s not that I’m not happy to see you, but why now?”

  “Because I don’t want to see these big-time record executives pimp you. And they will if you let them. Plus, I heard some bull popped off in New York. If Carlos and his crew put you in danger again, there will be hell to pay.”

  “So you’re not just interested in the money?” I hate that I have to ask this question, but I feel like if I don’t, I’ll be kicking myself later for not asking it.

  “Nah, I don’t need your money. I’m set right now. As a matter of fact . . . naw, never mind.”

  “What? Tell me.”

  He links his fingers together and cracks his knuckles. “Well, I wasn’t gonna say anything about this, because if I know your mother, she’ll try to give the money back.”

  “What money?”

  “I sent you that twenty-five-thousand-dollar check.”

  Now it’s my turn to jump out of my seat. “What? You sent the money?”

  “Yeah, Bryce told me what happened with Carlos, and I couldn’t let your college fund go up in smoke like that.”

  I shake my head. This isn’t making any sense. Why would Bryce tell my father anything about this, and why would Bryce car
e to try to help Carlos in his money issues?

  “Bryce told you what? That he stole my college fund from Carlos?”

  My father chuckles and pats the seat next to him. “Is that what you think happened?”

  I nod. “Carlos told my mom that Bryce was going to let him buy a stake in the club for twenty-five thousand dollars, and that when it was time for the deal to go down Bryce reneged, and shot Carlos.”

  “He’s leaving out some very crucial elements from the story.”

  I sit back down. “Like what?”

  “Like the fact that it was fifty thousand for him to buy a stake in the club. He was trying to gamble your college fund to get the rest of the money.”

  “I don’t believe this.”

  My father ignores my protest and keeps talking. “When he lost nearly all of your money, he and his cousins tried to strong-arm Bryce. They came in his club with guns blazing, thinking they were going to force Bryce to sign over a portion of the club’s profits to Carlos.”

  No, no, no! This cannot be true! If it’s true, then it means that the man my mother loves stole my money plain and simple. That’s probably the real reason why he refuses to show his face. He’s probably guilty as all get-out.

  “My mom would be very upset if she heard about this.”

  “That’s why you shouldn’t tell her. I probably shouldn’t have told you. I just don’t want you thinking that Bryce and LaKeisha are the enemy. Bryce told me y’all have beef, but you and his little brother just got caught in the cross fire of all this.”

  “What did you have to do with it?” I ask. It seems like he has too many details to have just heard about this. I could be one-hundred-percent wrong, but it just doesn’t seem to make sense.

  “I didn’t have anything to do with that. Bryce and I go way back. Plus we have a mutual dislike for Carlos. Carlos did his sister dirty, and was messing with my ex-wife.”

  “So you’re telling me that this whole time I’ve believed Bryce was the villain and it was really Carlos? Bryce is the good guy?”

  My father laughs. “I don’t know if I’d call him the good guy. He’s just not the one who made your college fund disappear.”

  “Well . . . I know you just want to help and all, but really my mom has got my back on the music thing. I don’t know if it would be a good idea for you to get in the mix. Let me get through this reality show and maybe we can talk about it again.”

  I don’t know why I can’t just come out and say no. Maybe I’m ashamed that I don’t trust my own father enough to be a part of my career. But that’s the truth. I don’t trust him, because I don’t really know him.

  Is that bad?

  “I guess that’s your choice,” he says. “But just know that I’m there if you need me. Give me your cell phone so I can put my number in there.”

  It’s crazy that my father’s number is not already in my cell phone. Or that my mother wouldn’t have known how to contact him if we had an emergency. And why isn’t he asking for my number too? Why should I have to do all of the calling? He’s the father. He should call me, right?

  “I’m so proud of you, Sunday.”

  “Because I have a record deal?”

  “Yes, but not just that. I’m proud that you are going to college and that you turned out so well. I brag about you all the time.”

  Well, this is something. I’ve never heard this from my dad before. Now that I think about it, I’ve never heard it from a man before.

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  “Well, your mom told me you were on your way out of the country in a couple days.”

  “You called my mom?”

  He laughs out loud. “No, Shawn called me. Threatened my life! She told me that I better not stand you up over here.”

  I can’t help but smile. My mom always holds it down for me. “You know how my mom is. She’s a ride-or-die chick.”

  “Yeah, I miss Shawn. Hate that things didn’t work out between us! But we did one thing right.”

  “Really?” I ask. “What’s that?”

  “We made you, baby girl.”

  My father stands to his feet. “Well, I don’t want to take up too much of your time. I know you’ve got work to do.”

  I feel a lump in my throat the size of a golf ball. I don’t want him to go. It’s been less than an hour and I haven’t seen him in years.

  “Do you . . . um . . . want to get something to eat, Daddy? Shelly made us some grub, but if you don’t want to stay here we can go somewhere else. My treat.”

  My dad pulls me from the couch and into a hug. “I would love to go out to eat with my favorite girl. And there is no way I’d make you treat! You like Chinese?”

  I nod.

  “Then let’s see if we can find some General Tso’s chicken around here!”

  I’m still feeling really good about spending the afternoon and evening with my dad. But I knew I was going to have to come home and give my mom a rundown of what took place. So I did. Well, I gave an edited version.

  And even though it wasn’t the entire story, my mom and Aunt Charlie sit on our living room couch, staring at me in shock. I just told them that my dad is the one who sent me the twenty-five-thousand check for my tuition. My mother looks especially twisted, so I decide not to mention anything about what my dad said about Carlos. He’s not in the picture now anyway, so it doesn’t really matter.

  My mom says, “So, I guess he thinks that’s gonna make up for all the lost time, huh? He can have his check. I don’t want his money. He can have it back.”

  “Girl, have you lost your mind?” Aunt Charlie asks. “Sending some money this way is the least he could do.”

  “No. The least he could’ve done was . . .” My mother closes her eyes and sighs. I can tell she wants to go into a rant on my dad, but she never does.

  “Mom, I’m old enough to realize he hasn’t been around. Nothing you say or don’t say will change that fact. I already know.”

  “It’s just frustrating,” my mother says with a sigh, “when he could be doing so much more.”

  “At least he got caught up on his back child support,” Aunt Charlie says.

  “That’s if he even gave Sunday that money. I’m still thinking that Carlos found a way to get us that money. I don’t have any proof that it’s from Jonah.”

  “Mom, how can you even talk about giving the money back when you said it was a blessing? Can’t you just view it that way? My dad trying to bless me for a change.”

  My mom’s eyebrows furrow into a little frown. “I see Jonah made a great impression on you. He’s a charmer, isn’t he? You look just like him too.”

  I don’t answer my mom’s question. It sounds rhetorical. Plus it seems like a setup. Like how could I give the right answer? I feel like she’ll be irritated with my answer either way. Plus, I don’t want my mother to know that I believe my dad. I also don’t want her to know how glad I was to see him.

  “Well, what he won’t be doing is managing my career,” I say, hoping this will get rid of the tension in the room.

  “You dang skippy,” Aunt Charlie says. “I don’t know why he even thought he was gonna get that off.”

  I shrug. “Me either. He warned me about Big D. I guess he doesn’t really care for him, but it is what it is. Big D hasn’t done me wrong yet.”

  “Darius is a good guy,” my mother says. “He’s got your back.”

  I lift an eyebrow in my mother’s direction. If what my father says about Carlos is true, I really can’t trust her instinct on who is a good guy and who isn’t. For some reason, what my father says rings true, too. I think it’s because I can’t think of a good reason for him to lie, and when I think back on how Carlos showed up in Philly looking like the walking dead . . . well, I just didn’t have a good feeling about that.

  “I shouldn’t even be talking to you, Sunday,” Aunt Charlie says.

  “What did I do?”

  “You didn’t convince your record company to send me to Barbados wi
th y’all.”

  I roll my eyes and sit on my mother’s recliner. “Aunt Charlie, it wasn’t Epsilon Records. It was BET. They are filming the reality show down there and they want it to be really positive.”

  “You trying to say I’m not positive?”

  “I’m not saying anything. BET thinks that you are too much for the tween and teen audience. I didn’t have anything to do with it.”

  “But you could’ve put your foot down, Sunday.”

  “Are you kidding me? I had to beg them to let Dreya come. They didn’t want her on the show either, because of Truth’s drama.”

  Aunt Charlie’s eyes widen as she looks at my mom. “You hear this, Shawn? Sunday is running things now.”

  “Charlie, you don’t need to go anyway. Let these kids have their fun. It’s the summer of their senior year, Sunday’s about to go off to college soon. Stop trying to relive your teen years through these kids.”

  “You are dead wrong for that, Shawn. Dead wrong. You’ve got a career and a retirement plan. What do I have?”

  “Charlie, I know you are not trying to make a career out of this reality-show thing.”

  “Why not? If they let Flavor Flav have a reality show, I could dang sure have one. I’m much more entertaining than he is.”

  Now this conversation has entered the land of certifiably crazy. This is why I’m glad Aunt Charlie is not coming to Barbados. I’m looking forward to this trip, even though I’m going to be working really hard on the video shoot.

  “They do have you staying at an all-inclusive, right?” my mother asks.

  “Yep. We’re staying at the Almond Resort. It’s right on Casuarina Beach.”

  Aunt Charlie sucks her teeth. “As if we know where that is, smarty pants.”

  My mom elbows Aunt Charlie in the side. “Stop tripping. There will be other vacations.”

  “I think we should go to the Caribbean for Christmas, Mom. What do you think?”

  “I would love that, baby.”

  I’m glad that my mom is smiling again and not thinking about my dad anymore. Aunt Charlie is another story, though.

  She says, “You just make sure that your cousin is represented on this show. She’s feeling really low about not being with Truth right now. Y’all need to pull together and help her feel better.”

 

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