Saint's Salvation: The Seven Deadly Sins (The Saint Series Book 7)

by Tiana Laveen

  CHAPTER TWO

  “Naw! I’m ova here right now, but this snake eyed fool act like he don’t see me like 2Pac!”

  “But Mama, the man said your credit wasn’t good enough to get that car. Let me and Saint get the car for you, all right?” Xenia sighed and shook her head, sliding deeper in the water, scented with aromatic, fragrant bath bombs. It had been a long work day and before she could even get a good, solid moment alone from the kids and Saint’s hyper ass, her phone rang and Mama was huffing and puffing like a hookah on the other end, raising Cain and Abel, practically about to have a heart attack. Both of their blood pressures were soaring like skyscrapers, of this she was certain.

  “And the answer is no to you and Saint gettin’ me the car. You already paid for enough.”

  “Ask the sales guy for a payment plan then, mama.”

  “I ain’t doing that. He got me fucked up. This funny lookin’ man know I’m good for it! Don’t you, heathen?!”

  “My name is Heath, ma’am,” Xenia heard the man say in the background.

  “Mama, stop it. He doesn’t know you. It’s not personal. Put Heath on the phone, please. I can provide our bank information so that you can purchase the vehicle. No one has time for this, and you’re going to have a stroke if you keep working yourself up like this over the smallest of things.”

  “Now why would I put Humpty Dumpty on the phone? So he can act a fool with you, too? All the king’s horses and all the king’s men, know he don’t deserve a damn dime again!”

  “You need to stop calling that man names; it’s not going to help you. Focus on what you need to do to get this taken care of. You’ve needed a new car for months now.”

  “All I know is that I ain’t puttin’ his ass on this here Samsung. I’ll take my business elsewhere!”

  “Ms. Donnellson, your credit score is not high enough right now. I explained that to you several times,” the man stated sharply, obviously tired of Mama’s antics.

  “Bad credit…” she mumbled. “Yo’ mama got bad credit, you fish-faced bastard!”

  “Mama!”

  “She got bad taste in men, too, ’cause she must uh fucked a lemon to create a sour-attitude-havin’ son of a gun like you! Xenia, he smells just like cooked pigs’ feet, too. All you need is a little hot sauce to turn him into dinner.”

  “Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

  “You ain’t gotta ask me to do nothin’, Heather! I’m going on my own accord, and it ain’t no Honda accord, either! You can stick that Lincoln and that Cadillac I was eyeballin’ where tha sun don’t shine! Wait … what are you doing?” She sounded as though she was fumbling with the phone, then picked it up again. Muffled sounds came through. “Wait a minute!”

  “Mama, what’s going on?”

  “Who tha … what tha hell! Do you know who the hell my daughter is?! I will have your job! Get yo’ damn hands off me before I turn you into lemonade, and I ain’t talkin’ about the Beyoncé song, either! Ohhhh! Xenia!!!”

  “Mama! What’s happening?”

  “Lord have mercy, you done fucked up now! I’m tha wrong one, baby, believe that!”

  “Mama! Stop this right now! Oh my God!” Xenia sat up in the water gripping her phone with one hand and the edge of the tub with the other. She heard a bit of commotion and fast, heavy breathing, as if her mother were scuffling with the fellow.

  “Get out!” the man yelled.

  “Put yo’ big Manwich sloppy joe Hamburger Helper hands makin’ a great meal on me again, hear, mothafucka? It’ll be the last damn thang you touch. These mothafuckas act like they the owners, Xenia, like they got stocks ’nd bonds up in here. You probably ain’t even got health insurance, in here tryna act like a big wig! You ain’t nothin’ but a sesame seed fat face salesman that smell like fried bologna and boiled cabbage. What’s yo’ commission, 2% and an apple Jolly Rancher?”

  “Mama, please stop it! I can’t take you doing this shit anymore!” Xenia suddenly heard the request for a manager and security to come to the front.

  “Ol’ tight ass bastard! Xenia, you should see Helen’s wedgie … he walkin’ away, all angry and fed up. I should be the one who’s fed up! His ass look like it’s a cow… chewin’ his pants up like cud, put a hurtin’ on them there Dockers. Hey, you got a big, wide ass, too, big enough for storage. That don’t look right on no man. You could probably fit two of them Lincolns up in there, back to back—Drake style, like a tandem garage. That makes you horny, don’t it? You look like the type that enjoy big thangs rammed up ya ass! That’s probably where the Winnebagos are stored … right up Henrietta’s big rig behind, a blowout sale!”

  “Mama! Just leave! Stop talking like that before they have the police called!”

  A few moments later, she was relieved to hear Mama’s car door close and the engine crank up. The sounds of ‘Dirty Low Down’ by Boz Scaggs came through the woman’s radio speakers. Sighing with relief, Xenia fell back down onto the rolled-up towel she used as a neck rest and, with a shaky hand, reached for her wine glass, filled to the brim with a full-bodied merlot.

  “Son of a bitch…” She could hear Mama’s lighter flick as she undoubtedly struck her tenth cigarette of the day, and then, the woman left the car lot in a huff.

  “Mama, I am really getting worried about you. You are banned from two grocery stores, a library, and a gas station. Every week now it’s something.”

  “Xenia!” Saint yelled out from the bedroom. “What’s taking so long? I’m going to come in after you if you don’t hurry up.”

  “Saint, baby, just hold on please. We’re not on a timer.” She grimaced and rolled her eyes.

  “But I’m naked right now, baby! Like right this second!” She suddenly heard him stomping across the bedroom towards her. “Here I come. Make room for big daddy, ’cause I’mma ’bout to diiiiiive in!” he sang off key.

  “Not right now, Saint!” she snapped. The footsteps halted abruptly. “Mama, don’t get quiet on me. Did you hear me? You’ve been getting into quite a bit of trouble, more so than usual. What is going on?”

  “I am not banned from anywhere. What are you talkin’ about?” Her mother pouted on the other end, pretending to be oblivious to reality.

  “That’s not true and you know it. Porsche told me all about you getting into it with people left and right and almost every time you and I talk, you’ve had another run in of some sort. Your string of luck is going to expire. Someone is going to really hurt you one day, and I don’t want that!”

  “I wish a mothafucka would put they hands on me, hurt me and think they gonna walk away in one solid piece! I’m from Piru, baby! Try me, goddamn it! You can take the girl out tha gang, but never the gang out the girl! I put that on everything, and though it’s behind me, I can still back it up, dust it off, and rock ’nd roll!”

  “But you’re not a girl anymore, Mama. You don’t gangbang anymore either but sometimes you still act like you are out there in the streets! Your temper has gotten impossibly shorter. You are constantly going off. There is no way this could be healthy.”

  “Don’t try to turn me into no sautéed radish and turnip stew eatin’ vegan like you! I’m sick of you and Saint talkin’ ’bout what exercise I need to do, and what shit I need to munch on. I ain’t no damn rabbit.”

  “I’m not talking about that, Mama. I’m not vegan, though I do try to eat healthy most times and exercise. But that’s not the topic right now. I’m talking about your mental health! You’re on blood pressure medication, too. Have you thought of seeing someone, you know, for anger management?”

  “Girl, if you don’t shut the hell up…!” Xenia sighed and rolled her eyes. “I got a right to be angry! This life I live ain’t easy. I’ve worked all of my life, slavin’ away in all these hair salons ’till I had managed to get my own, makin’ mistakes into miracles.” Xenia grimaced, sinking down into the suds and envisioning ‘woe is me’ music playing in full volume while Mama rattled on. “…Giving bald he
aded eagles long, pressed mermaid hair, fixing the unfixable. One day a lady came up in my shop with just two little strands of hair and wanted me to give her some braids. All my life I been makin’ ways outta no way!”

  Mama sounds like Sofia from ‘The Color Purple’ … Good Lord.

  “What does all of this have to do with you seeking assistance for your bad temper, Mama? A woman suffering from alopecia or cancer related baldness has nothing to do with what I am trying to get you to focus on right now … unless that is the root of this, pardon the pun. Is your job stressing you out and making you attack salesmen and call them names?”

  “’Is yo’ job stressin’ you out and making you attack salesmen and calln’ ’im names?!’” Mama mimicked in a high-pitch annoyed tone. “Xenia, if you get smart with me one mo’ time, I’m going to reach through the damn phone and snatch yo’ ass bald, too! You can change your name from Xenia to Jason Statham, see how Saint take to ya then! Anyway, before I was so rudely interrupted, I make wigs for cancer patients for free, donate my time and hours to these homeless shelters for women who got job interviews and need their hair done. I brought this up, Xenia, because ya Mama works hard! I deserve a little respect, but the thanks I get is some smart-ass Chicken George lookin’ jerk judging me, like his shit don’t stink.”

  “Mama, to a sales guy, money is money, okay? He needed the sale as much as you needed that car so he had nothing to gain from denying you. All he did was tell you what the deal was and you overreacted, as usual.” Xenia brought her knees up and watched the suds slide down her shiny, wet skin. “Look, I really do want you to see someone. I’m worried about you.”

  “How’d your radio interview with Cardi B go? Did she do it over the air or come into the studio? Did you get her autograph for me like I asked you?”

  “Yes, and it went great. She sat down with me face to face. She’s from the Bronx like Saint and she’s funny and talented but I need for you to tell me about—”

  “I sho’ like that girl! You know she used to be a stripper, work the pole. She a Blood, too! Yes, baby! That’s family.”

  “Mama, stop trying to change the subject.”

  “She’s a Libra like you.”

  “Well, this is not the astrology hour, Cardi B is not here right now, but your anger issues are. Please answer me.”

  “You ain’t got no reason to be worried about me and you and Porsche better stop talking trash behind my back. I’m still yo’ mama! Porsche say this, Porsche say that—did Porsche tell you she found out her little minister, goody-two-shoes egg-headed boyfriend from the Bay area was still legally married? He ain’t get no damn divorce and she still messin’ with him after she found out the truth. You ain’t know that, did jah?”

  Xenia gasped, eyes wide and mouth open in disbelief.

  “I ain’t think so! Your twin sister is out here parlayin’ with a pimp in the pulpit, bustin’ it wide open. One leg spread towards Genesis, the other towards Revelations, and this charlatan standing there in the middle wit’ his Psalms out. I ain’t no holy roller, but she gonna get it good for that! Let’s see how she like her business out in the street. I don’t need no anger management. What I need is for people to mind their damn business and stay outta mine, including you. Anyway, how are my grandbabies?” The woman’s voice filled with longing at the last sentence.

  “You are my business, Mama, because I love you. As far as the kiddos, they’re good. They just started school again last week as you know, but the tests and homework are coming in already.”

  “School ain’t like what it used to be. These babies nowadays come out the womb with backpacks on and homework twenty-four hours later.”

  “I know.” Xenia chuckled. “Saint was saying something similar just the other day. Dakarai did well on his math test yesterday and Isis is learning Spanish already. They are going over the numbers. Can you believe that? My baby is in pre-school. I cannot believe how fast time flies.”

  “You blink, and they’re grown.” There was a tinge of melancholy to Mama’s voice as she uttered those words. “Enjoy ’em … they grow too fast, Xenia. Seems like just yesterday you, Porsche, and Ira were runnin’ around the front yard with your swimsuits on, laughing and yellin’, playing in the sprinkler. Speaking of Ira, he comes home soon. It kept getting postponed but he said he is finally getting his papers. He said that last time though. I hope this time is for real.” The woman drew quiet for a spell, falling into a sentimental hush.

  “I hope so, too. I miss my brother so much. We talked a couple of months ago, but the discussion was short because he had to go. He broke up with Jocelyn, too. I guess she got tired of waiting and he got tired of arguing and hearing about her seeing other people. He played it cool, you know how Ira is, but I know deep down he was distressed about it. They’d been together so long.”

  “I know … so uh, what’s going on with my main man?” She chuckled, obviously changing the topic to rid herself of the sorrowful thoughts. Xenia could tell her mother’s car window was rolled down. The familiar sounds of L.A. poured through from the other end of the phone, making her a bit homesick.

  “He’s doing well, Mama. Hassani does his own thing though, you know that. He’s becoming more secretive, keeping to himself more, wanting his own space. Saint and I aren’t a fan of that. He’s getting a little sneaky actually. It’s unnerving.”

  “Like his mama. You was a sneaky lil’ kid too.” Mama chuckled, drawing a smile from Xenia.

  “Mama, all jokes aside, and my concern about your well-being, I need you to know that I miss you. I know we talk all the time on the phone, but it’s not the same as being face to face. Why don’t you come on out for a visit?” Xenia’s heart filled with hopefulness. “The school year has just begun; my schedule is busy but I keep regular hours for now. I could really use your company.”

  Mama went quiet for a moment or two. “Well, I don’t know. I—”

  “Mama, please? I need you. Your grandchildren miss you, too. You know Dakarai kisses the ground you walk on. He talks about you all the time. I’ve been so stressed out lately because of some personnel changes and Saint has been working so hard, more than usual. He’s got a big conference coming up and a convention called the Imperium. It’s a big deal.”

  “He still tryna get these Black women to grab them a pink penis and hold on tight, huh?”

  “Mama, that’s not what this is about. You know it goes beyond that.” Xenia rolled her eyes and grimaced.

  “I know, but tell me somethin’. White men come up short on the dick-meter, don’t they? Be honest.”

  “Mama, I’ve never had sex with a White man but it just so happens that the largest penis on record belongs to a White man. His name is Jonah Falcon.”

  “I bet a White man wrote that report … just like when they chopped the nose off the sphinx.”

  Xenia sighed. “Supposedly though, there’s a Mexican man who has him beat, but there is not enough proof since he keeps his wrapped in a sock and few have actually seen it. Regardless of all of that, you can’t put everyone in a bucket like that. Plus, Saint told me that though Black men have larger penises when soft, on average, this equals out during erections, compared to their White male counterparts.”

  “But you ain’t say nothin’ about the pet boilers! I know them Asians got little wangs. Wait a minute, I take that back. Saint is half Korean.”

  “Mama…”

  “I saw him in that towel that time you was givin’ birth to Isis and that imprint proved beyond a shadow of a damn doubt that not all Asian men are workin’ with a mini-soldier! Them Egyptian genes must’ve helped too ’cause he got the stiff mummy King Tut and Godzilla in them damn pants combined. That’s called monster cock!”

  “That isn’t funny, cut it out. That’s your son-in-law. You need to stop it!”

  “I know who tha hell he is and it ain’t my fault. He ain’t have no business runnin’ downstairs like that!”

  “He was trying to give you all an update on
the baby.”

  “We got an update all right! Lord have mercy, and that thang was just uh swangin’! Mint condition ain’t have nuttin’ on Saint! You send me swaaaaangin’!”

  “Mama, come on! I’m not trying to have this conversation with you!”

  Mama cackled, laughing so hard it seemed at times she’d lost her breath.

  “All right, sorry about that, well, kinda … What were you sayin’ again, baby?” The woman at least attempted to pull herself together.

  “I was saying that Saint works long hours and so do I. We’re tired and to make matters worse, he is really stressed out right now but trying to hide it. He smiles, cracks jokes, and acts like his typical self but I know he is worried about something. He won’t tell me, though.”

  “That’s how men are sometimes, Xenia.”

  Mama, if you only knew…

  “Yes, but he won’t talk to me about it, Mama, even after all this time, after all he and I have been through. I know why though; it’s admirable I suppose but I still expected more. He tries to protect me from everything and I understand, but at the same time, when these things happen, I feel like I can’t fix it because he won’t let me in. I want to help him. I know I can do more than just speak at the occasional conference or mentor the Empresses. Saint wants to keep me and the kids in a safe little box with a bow on top, but we can’t stay cooped up like that. I’m not afraid. I want to be by my baby’s side. This is who he is, and so that means that’s who I am, too.”

  “You know how Saint is though, Xenia. He’s strong, don’t like breakin’ down or nothin’. He got that Superman, I ain’t gonna show you that I’m hurtin’ thing going on but inside, you know he’s a wreck. Regardless, he’s a damn good man. Just be glad he is handlin’ his business. He’s really good with the kids, treats my baby right. I think I can see both sides of this, you know? On one hand, he wants you involved it seems, but at the same time, ’cause he got so many haters, he wants you away from all of that. Baby, a real man wants to protect his family. You can’t fault him for that.”