“Daddy, this man is asking for her hand because she is carrying his child. If you ask me, I think he is up to no good and after her money,” DeAndre blurted out, standing in a fixed position with his arms folded across his chest. He reminded Isiah of the bitchy boy in school who served as the teacher’s snitch on the cool kids who smoked during breaks in the bathroom.
“And I think you’re an asshole,” Isiah said. “I’m not holding that against you, so give me chance. Plus, I have my own money, we are signing a prenup, and I love your sister with everything in me.”
Rafe ran out the door, followed by two more children who were yelling at the top of their lungs for no good reason, chasing behind a small dog with its tail between its legs in fear. Setting down the tongs, Isiah placed two fingers in his mouth and whistled loudly. The kids stopped screaming, and the dog, fondly named Mr. Wellington, ran to his side and he bent down, resting his weight on one knee and looking at the three children. Pointing at the kids individually, he then pointed at the house. Little lips poked out, single file they marched back into the house quietly and in an orderly fashion.
Xavier clapped loudly, laughing like a madman. “You can marry my daughter any time you are ready, young man. Did you see that Maya? I ain’t never seen those little monsters snap to like that!”
Isiah continued cooking the meat as if he had not just completed a task that no one in the family had managed to accomplish in the last nine years. He silenced three of the five hell spawns. The worst three of the lot without even raising his voice and even befriended the dog which didn’t appear to like anyone in the family, not even its master. Mr. Wellington rested beside his foot as if it now belonged to him alone. A sense of pride flowed through DeShondra as she watched her man tend the grill, teaching her father, finally, how to cook meat on an open flame. Her hand rested on her stomach as the butterflies flitted about. Maya saw the calmness in her daughter and a glow on her skin.
“Thank you, Lord,” she said, looking up at the sky. “My baby found her a life mate that is an equal.”
DeAndre, on the other hand, had taken exception to a white man coming to his family’s home and giving orders to his children. It was not Isiah’s place to provide discipline to DeAndre’s kids. No one had asked him and he took exception to the power play, an act DeAndre took as a sign of aggression that he would not allow to pass without a reaction.
Chapter 12 – And Now This Asshole
TEN YEARS IN THE ATF had given Isiah years of experience in understanding human nature. He’d witnessed the very best in teamwork and camaraderie as well as the pitfalls of tribalism. Today, his primary goal rested in getting to know her family to gain a better working knowledge of why DeShondra felt the way she did about relationships. Based on what he’d observed thus far, two and two were equaling nine.
Maya, a loving woman, doted on her husband. Each time his drink became empty, a fresh one landed in Dr. Leman’s hand. Xavier, in turn, thanked her each time she did the slightest thing for him, followed by tokens of affection in hugs, kisses and gentle pats on her bottom. Xavier’s brother Javier was the opposite. Millie, his wife, sat in front of a laptop, looking up on occasion, in between phone calls to smile at a joke, but never really taking part in any conversation. They had three children, Monica, who was DeShondra’s office manager, Robert, who was in Afghanistan, and Abby, who he’d been told was away for the weekend.
Monica arrived with a tray of store-bought cupcakes and a young man who looked like an unemployed rapper from the 80s. Javier Leman turned up his lip, snarled at the man, and turned his back to him.
“Hey, who brought the white boy?” Monica’s date asked.
“JJ, this is Isiah,” Monica said, feeling embarrassed. “He is DeShondra’s fiancé.”
“I see. I see said the old man after cataract surgery,” JJ said, displaying a mouthful of bling. “Couldn’t find a brother willing to put up with her stuck-up ass.”
Isiah scratched his mustache. He could play it cool or punch the guy’s lights out, but he was never one prone to violence; however, he didn’t mind shooting people.
“No, JJ, was it? A fine woman like that requires a special man. The color doesn’t matter. He just needs to be five yards ahead of the rest of the pack,” Isiah said. “If you insult her again, then we are going to have a problem.”
“Aren’t you all tough, in a hillbilly sort of way,” JJ said. “No disrespect intended man. Ain’t no need to go get your cousins at the trailer park to come over and jump me in the middle of the night.”
“Disrespect was taken and I don’t need my cousins to whip your ass. I can take you out with one blow,” Isiah said, taking in the man. He shifted the tongs from his right hand to his left, waiting for the next words which would make him provide a well-aimed blow to the loud mouth’s solar plexus.
“Oh yeah! I would like to see...,” JJ started to say but he found himself on the concrete patio with his butt stuck in the air. A bit of drool oozed from the side of his mouth as his eyelids fluttered from the gut punch Isiah delivered. Isiah moved so quickly, had they not been watching, everyone would have missed the stealthy ninja moves.
“Damn!” Javier yelled out, suddenly liking the bearded man a great deal more. He reached into the ice chest and grabbed Isiah a cold beer. “I have been wanting to clock that sumbitch forever.”
Isiah looked at Monica. “I’m sorry, but he...I have a low threshold for assholes,” he said. “A beautiful, smart woman like you...well. Never mind.”
“Speak your mind,” Monica said, curious about his assessment of her relationship with JJ. Isiah didn’t want to say anything but he felt he would be remiss if he didn’t share his knowledge of the insight into human nature. Instead of filling her in with a clinical assessment of JJ’s imminent failure to reconcile the lost of a father’s love and a mother’s alienation which would explain the need to be the center of attention, he took the shortcut.
“Being smart is a gift. I’ve met too many people who aren’t,” he said. “Don’t waste it.”
She knew what he meant. JJ was fun, reckless, and a breath of fresh air. The man wasn’t in her plans for a future, but he made her feel alive. Plus, her father hated him, which gave her pleasure in rubbing the wannabe rapper in his smug face, but her favorite knife to dig into her dad had just been just proven to be the punk that he is. Monica began to see what drew DeShondra to the man. He was a man of action and few words.
DeAndre didn’t share the sentiment and opted instead to make a phone call to an old friend. He extended an invitation to dinner to a man who readily accepted the invite. Dinner was going to be fun and his chance to get back at the interloper who was taking too many steps to win over his family. Even his dog Mr. Wellington had taken a liking to the man. He, on the other hand, didn’t like him in the least.
ISIAH STILL MANNED the grill when DeShondra stood, his eyes following her. She looked over her shoulder at him which was his signal to follow her inside the house. Excusing himself, he returned the tongs to Xavier and walked through the sliding glass doors into the home in which his lady had grown up in.
“Whoa!” he said at the colorful inside of the house. The best way he could describe it was as if a cartoonist got high on meth and designed his dream home. JJ sat on the corner of the couch, holding an ice pack to his upper lip, which had become swollen when his face made sudden contact with the concrete patio. The couch, which closely resembled the suit Beetlejuice wore, held orange and green fur-covered pillows. The wall behind the couch painted a hot, neon pink, held paintings that, as best he could discern, was completed by a drunken Maya at a wine and paint class.
In the large red leather chair sat a scrawny woman, with a headful of weave, a bad attitude, and a vast quantity of expensive jewelry. The children ran back and forth in the house, leaving trails of chips and sweets and spilling juice drinks on the hardwood floors.
“Tisha, this is my fiancé, Isiah,” DeShondra said. “Tisha is my brother’s wife.”
“Nice to meet you,” Isiah responded, but the woman didn’t move. Her eyes remained focused on the television reality show.
“Just like her to go out and get a white boy,” Tisha mumbled. “Always gotta try and be better than everybody else.”
DeShondra didn’t respond and Isiah saw no need to either as DeShondra led him into the kitchen, which was subtle in comparison to what he’d seen of the house so far.
“You’ve been mighty quiet,” he said to her.
“Isiah, you watch and observe people for a living. There is nothing I need to say that you can’t see and understand for yourself,” she said. “This is where I grew up. They are my parents. Two very loving people that are caught somewhere between we shall overcome and a bad pun on black suburban life.”
“Doesn’t look so bad to me,” he said.
“It’s not. This just ain’t me,” she said, opening the fridge to get a cold bottle of water.
“DeShondra, you didn’t mention your brother was your twin and a doctor,” he said, “or your uncle, who is also a doctor. I know your dad is a dentist.”
“Uncle Javier is an ear, nose, and throat doctor and my brother is an anesthesiologist,” she said. “Between the three of them, they can knock you out, clean your teeth, and clear your sinuses.”
“The medical field held no interest for you?”
“I started college pre-med, but when I ran the numbers and costs for medical school, malpractice insurance, and office equipment, it seemed like a waste to work such long hours for so small a return,” she said.
“Helping others is never a small return,” he said.
“You still have to send them a bill at the end of the day. I help others by assisting many with their first-time home purchases. Owning real estate is a long-term investment that many single mothers and low-income families don’t have,” she told him. “I help others achieve that dream.”
“Is that your vision, DeShondra,” he asked, his hand raking down her arm in the sleeveless sundress, “a chicken in every pot and home to cook it in?”
“Close,” she said. “We can talk more about it tomorrow. I can hear Mom calling everyone in for dinner. Hope you’re hungry.”
“I can eat,” he said, looking up to see John Lucas walk through the door with her brother. “And now this asshole. I take that back- my appetite just left.”
DeShondra was surprised that Isiah knew who he was. Moreover, he knew who John was to her. John Lucas was dressed to the nines as if he were headed to a cookout at Buckingham Palace. He made a beeline for Isiah and DeShondra, who appeared unfazed by the sudden appearance of her ex. She knew her brother had called him to get back at Isiah for disciplining his kids and stealing the affection of Mr. Wellington, who had followed Isiah into the house and was seated by his feet.
“Hey, you two. DeAndre invited me to dinner. I had to accept to come and check out the competition,” he said to DeShondra, his eyes now turning to Isiah. “I’m John Lucas.”
“Isiah Neary,” he replied. “Great game last week against the Cavs.”
“You’re a fan?” he asked Isiah.
“No,” Isiah said flatly. “I prefer football, but a body has to change it up every now and again to keep things fresh.”
“Duly noted,” John responded. “I see DeShondra decided to freshen things up herself. Imagine my surprise when I came back for my girl to find that she was engaged and going to be a mother. Forgive me for my curiosity, but I wanted to come to meet the man I need to put down to win her back.”
DeShondra moved quickly to stand between John and Isiah. If what he did to JJ was any indicator, John may not be able to finish the season. Isiah gently pushed her to the side out of the way of his right arm, which she clung to in an effort to prevent him from swinging it at John’s face.
“No need to stand between us, Baby,” he said. “He seems to like to dribble off the court as well, but I’m cool. If you behave, John, I’ll make sure you get an invite to the wedding. Don’t forget to bring a gift. I could use some new grilling tools.”
Isiah slipped his arm around DeShondra’s shoulder, escorting her to the dining room. The food smelled amazing and his appetite was returning. A buffet was set up with all the food as the kids made plates to eat in the kitchen and the adults gathered around the table.
“Isiah, let me make you a plate,” Maya suggested, but Isiah refused the kind offer. Instead, he made a plate for himself and one for DeShondra, loading it with veggies in small portions for her to nibble on during dinner.
“Thank you, Isiah,” she said, accepting the food. She offered him a kiss as her father would do for her mother when she saw to his comfort. He took the seat next to her, Mr. Wellington at his feet as he broke off a small piece of chicken and fed it to the dog. If the animal could smile, he would have as he clung close to the new man he wanted to be his master. A few people noticed, but no one said a word as Xavier again brought he attention back to Isiah.
“Okay, when is the wedding?” Xavier asked.
“I am hoping in the next couple of months, but Shondra isn’t interested in a big wedding, so I am hoping Mrs. Leman, that you and my mother can put your heads together,” Isiah said. “Our home will be ready in a few weeks and I think the backyard would be ideal for a reception.”
“You are moving to another house?” Maya asked.
Isiah smiled with pride, “I bought a farm on the outskirts of town. Loads of land, a fishing pond, room for my horses and more. It has a big barn and room for kids to run and play.”
“Kids as in plural,” DeAndre said with a malicious expression covering his face.
“If God and DeShondra are willing,” Isiah said, holding her hand.
John didn’t like the love fest between his ex and the bearded beau. He also didn’t like the idea of her living a life without him on a farm with horses. Mainly, he couldn’t stomach the idea of her moving on with this man and leaving him out of her future. None of this was in his plan to win her back. He didn’t like losing. He didn’t like the new man.
“I’m sorry, but I just don’t see DeShondra living on a farm,” John said with a hint of sarcasm.
“You can see it for yourself when you bring my new grilling tools to our wedding reception at the house,” Isiah said with a smile. “Please, don’t get the cheap ones. I have good taste.”
JJ found the burn to be funny. His lip swollen, he chuckled. “You’re alright, Mountain Man,” he said, biting into the chicken, which was not the singed beyond being edible meat that he was accustomed to getting at a Leman family cookout. “This chicken is good, too. It makes up for you sucker punching me, which I should be mad about but the food is lit. John, make sure you get this man some good tools. I want to come to their house for cookouts and to fish in that pond.”
Maya’s interest piqued, “Isiah, you said your mother would work with me on the wedding. Is there anything I need to know about the number of groomsmen, your family size, and the like?”
“Tomorrow, DeShondra and I will speak with her pastor to have the wedding at your church. The reception, I want in our backyard, casual,” he said. “Nothing overboard, simple, easy, and comfortable. My groomsmen will be my two brothers, my dad, and DeAndre if he is good with that.”
“What about Buster and June Bug and the guys?” DeShondra asked.
“Nope,” he said flatly.
“Your folks, what do they do?” Xavier asked. “We are a medical family, outside of my little angel.”
“My family is law enforcement,” Isiah added. “My dad, who is retiring later this year, is a section chief with the FBI in the District. My mom is a retired high school English teacher. My oldest brother, Ezekiel, who got injured last year in the line of duty, was the Secret Service agent in charge of the FLOTUS. The middle brother, Gabriel, who’s a theologist and ordained minister, works for the CIA. I’m the youngest and work for the ATF.”
“Which FLOTUS?” Tisha asked, uncharacteristically engaged in th
e conversation.
“The previous one,” Isiah said. “He served her faithfully from the start of the campaign trail until they left the White House. My family is laid back and easy going, but we are all academics so to speak.”
“I look forward to meeting them all,” Maya said. “Make sure you give your soon-to-be mother-in-law my number, DeShondra, so we can get started on this dazzling, vibrant wedding.”
“Please, Mom, just one color,” DeShondra said. “I would like a simple wedding.”
“I can do simple,” Maya said. “What color?”
“Blue,” Isiah said. “Her favorite color is pastel blue.” He touched the soft blue sundress she wore as the butterflies flipped over in her stomach. Her hands went there touching her belly. Taking his hand in her own, she placed it upon her stomach.
“I think she likes your chicken,” DeShondra said.
“He knows his Daddy can cook,” he replied, leaning over to kiss her in front of her entire family this time with a bit of tongue in a respectful way. The tender moment was interrupted by yelling children and falling glass in the kitchen.
“DeAndre, go check on your children to make sure they are not destroying my kitchen!” Maya said, throwing her napkin at her son. Isiah had only seen three of the five when the other two walked into the dining room to tell on the younger brother Rafe. Isiah’s heart dropped into his stomach when he looked at the other children standing side by side.
In front of the room of adults stood two girls and one boy, the resemblance so strong, it was difficult to tell where one ended and the other three began.
“Isiah, these are my children, Esme, Esmeralda, and Emerson. You met Raffael and Leonardo earlier,” DeAndre said.
“Triplets,” Isiah mumbled, rubbing his head from the influx of sweat which had accumulated on his scalp. His eyes went to her belly. “Well, damn.”
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