Chapter 26
I huffed out a deep breath, hesitating outside Justin’s doorstep. I was trying to calm my nerves before I knocked and I still didn’t know what I was going to say. How would I explain what I had done? He had trusted me with his deepest secret and I had betrayed him. Damn. I shook my head, highly disappointed in what I had done. Truth be told, it took me days to get over the whole situation. From Santana ruining my parents’ anniversary party to humiliating Justin . . . I was so upset with him that I even considered packing his stuff and kicking him the hell out of my house. He’d been so drunk that night that when we’d gotten in the house, he passed out....
I let him sleep only for the purpose of him sobering up. As soon as daylight hit, I was there with a glass of cold water, dousing him in his face.
He leaped up. “Baby! What the fuck are you doing?”
“You should know, with the shit you pulled last night. I should be slapping the fuck out of you!”
He looked confused. “Man. I don’t know what the fuck you talking about.”
“You ruined my parents’ anniversary!” I shoved him. “And you ran your mouth and humiliated my best friend.”
There was silence for a moment before he said, “Babe. You going to have to fill me in because I was real fucked up last night. I was off that Mohawk.”
I rehashed everything he said and did, down to showing the video of my father having sex with that girl. He looked amazed and buried his face in his hands. “I’m sorry, baby. I swear to you, I would have never intentionally done something like that.”
It was all a shock to me. I was still with questions that an apology just didn’t cut. “First off, what the fuck do you have to say about that video?”
He took a deep breath. “Man, that shit was before I ever met you. Before your pops put me on his payroll. I don’t want to put your dad’s business out there, but do you know how I met your father? The girl I used to fuck with, with the two kids, Reina? He was fucking her sister, Trish.”
I thought back to what Spokeo had said. Another woman was living there. I shook my head.
“He used to come pick her up, take her out and shit, or they would go to a hotel, fuck, and then he would drop her off. Well, you know how some niggas can’t see good pussy as what it is, good pussy, and leave it at that. Nigga started getting all sentimental and telling her all his business that she would share with Reina. She told her how he had bank, owned businesses and property, and how he was married. Trish and her sister were looking for a come up, plain and simple. They were some petty, broke-ass bitches. So Reina talked me into filming him having sex with her sister.
“The plan was for us to blackmail him into paying up and we wouldn’t send the video to his wife and break up his happy home. He was getting closer and closer to her. He started stopping by, bringing Reina’s kids gifts and shit. He brought grocery a couple times a month and paid the light bill. He didn’t have to do any of that. And by me being there, kicking it with Reina, me and him started talking. The more I talked to him the more I started liking him as a person. He would come sometimes and just chop it up with me. Give me advice and shit. But Trish was pressuring me to bust out the video on him. So one night I was about to and you know what the nigga did? He offered me a job. Me. He knew about my record and everything. And he was still willing to give me a chance.
“Aside from the fact that he was fucking another woman, he didn’t like using condoms, and he was using some of his dough to buy her things and stuff for her kids who ain’t his, I realized the nigga wasn’t that bad. So I decided not to go through with the blackmail shit. That pissed them the fuck off. But I didn’t care. In that short time, Mr. Vancamp had been more of a father figure than any other man in my life. I always told him I wouldn’t go in his back yard if he stayed out of mine. He understood. That’s why he always stayed out of my business with you. But I didn’t think he ever thought you and I would have something.”
Wow, I thought. My father has been cheating on my mother. I was in shock. I mean, he was practically a man of the cloth. He was a deacon in our church. How could he do that to my mother? It was so foul. I didn’t think I would be able to look at him the same way again. Judging from Reina, I was sure that her sister was just as much the piece of trash she was.
“But I can’t apologize enough for what I did last night, babe. I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking pulling that shit out. I should have erased it.” He shook his head bitterly. “And I shouldn’t have said shit to your friend. I know you told me it was a secret.”
That day Justin had come back over and those girls left. Things had calmed down between Santana and me and I told him never to mention what I had told him about Justin being gay. He said he never would.
“I hope you can forgive me for it. You don’t get it, baby. You are the woman of a thousand men’s dreams. I’m way out of my league with you. You are on a way higher level than me. You’re beautiful, educated, and smart. I’m not good enough for you, baby.” His eyes were watery and he started crying as he talked. “Sometimes I feel like I’m going to lose you to another man who’s better than me. The thought of that drives me to drink.”
His words made me soften and put things more into perspective. Santana felt threatened by what I was but he didn’t need to. With his flaws and all, he was my everything. Without him, my future days would be gloomy. But yes. I was angry at what he did. The first few days it would be hard to forget it. But I knew I would be able to forgive him because I loved him unconditionally. He was also inebriated. He would never have done it if he was sober.
The day after the anniversary party, my father stopped by. When I answered the door and came face to face with him, it was one of the most awkward days I ever had with my father. I thought it was even more awkward than when my father had confronted me about stealing from him.
I said hello to my father. He didn’t say it back. I cleared my throat and stepped back, inviting him inside.
“Is that sorry motherfucker in there?”
“Yes. Dad, I—”
He put his hand up, stopping me. “Listen. I don’t want to hear it. I want him out of my house. You’re my daughter so you’re welcome to live here. But if you choose to stay with him you both need to be out and you have two weeks. You’re my baby and I love you. I never failed you as a father. But I failed as a husband. My fear of my wife finding out that I cheated on her forced me to bite my tongue against a man I felt was no good for you. Well, it’s out now. I want you to leave him alone. He is no good for you. I’m sorry that I wasn’t strong enough to tell you before all this mess happened.”
I looked at my dad and bit back tears. How could I tell him that, for once, I just couldn’t obey him? I understood my dad being angry, but he had a responsibility here, too. I just didn’t think that was the moment to throw it in his face.
“Dad, ” I whispered. “I love him, Daddy. You wouldn’t understand. For me, nothing else matters without him in my life.”
“Then I’m telling you this: I’m going to evict the both of you.”
“Don’t do this to me. I—”
“Two weeks! Or I’m evicting you both. I can’t condone you being with that man. He is going to ruin your life. You’re an adult, so I can’t force you to leave him, but until you do don’t expect my help or support.”
He turned and walked down the porch steps.
“Dad!”
He stopped for a second as if it were a struggle to take another step. But he could never turn back around. I saw his shoulders shudder as he paused. Still, he walked on until he got to his car.
Suddenly I felt Santana standing behind me. His hands stroked up and down my arms. “I’m sorry, baby.”
I turned and cried on his shoulder. It hurt me that my father wouldn’t even listen to me. He was shutting me out because of my choice to stay with Santana. What if I shut him out of my life because he cheated on my mom? I knew Santana was wrong, but had my father never cheated there wo
uld be no video to show.
“Don’t worry, baby. I got us in this situation. I will get us out of it.”
I hoped he could, but I knew he couldn’t repair my relationships with my father and Justin. His way of repairing was using $500 of his financial aid money to get us a one-bedroom unit in the Carmelitos. It was the last place I wanted to go. But there was no way I was going to be able to afford an apartment, both our car notes, insurance, cell phones, and utilities on my own. I mean I was given a raise and I was now making $1,500 a month, but it wasn’t enough just yet. Santana said he would be done with school in another seven months and then he would get a job and help. So the Carmelitos was just a temporary thing.
Nothing was worse than leaving my job and trailing bitches at my job who hated me and following them into the Carmelitos, but what choice did I have? I would just have to weather the storm with my man until things got better.
I snapped out of my thoughts and knocked on Justin’s door. I’d stopped by before going into work. It had been a month and a half since the party. I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to see my friend. But as seconds flew by, I chickened out and started walking down the steps of his parents’ home.
But, then, I hesitated on the third step when I heard the door open.
I turned around and came face to face with Justin.
The look he gave me was unlike any that he had ever given me. It was worse than how he looked at me at the party. It was filled with so much anger, as if I had just said every gay slur in the book to him. It was like he hated me. I knew I was responsible for this. I had betrayed his trust. It was different from the situation between Arianna and me. I felt no need to fix that one. She asked me to choose between her and Santana. Yes, he was wrong for throwing the drink in her face but he did it because she was getting in our business. Men don’t like that. Whereas Justin accepted Santana with really no judgment. I needed to fix this. I needed to have at least one friend in my corner. My relationships with my sister, parents, and Arianna were estranged and irreparable. Justin was the last of the dying breed.
I pulled my lips in, waiting for him to speak. He didn’t, he just stared at me.
“Hi,” I said nervously.
He paused before saying, “What do you want?”
I jumped at the anger in his voice. “I know you’re upset with me. But I wanted to tell you that I’m so sorry for hurting you, Justin.”
“You think if you say sorry that makes it okay!” His lips were trembling and tears started sliding down his cheeks.
It killed me. I choked on a sob, trying to keep my composure. “I know it doesn’t. I didn’t mean to tell your secret.”
“You betrayed my trust. You gave me your word. You have ruined my whole life. Nothing can change it. As for your apology, it means nothing to me.”
“Justin. I love you. You are all I have left outside of Santana.”
“This really isn’t about me. You’re only saying sorry because you don’t have any more friends and your family has turned their backs on you because of your decisions. You are so selfish, Alexis.”
“You’re my best friend.”
“Not anymore. I can’t even show my face around town anymore. I can’t go back to church, my father looks at me with disgust, and my mother can’t seem to stop crying. I get called faggot every time I go out in public. This is all because of you. You are not my friend. You’re nothing to me anymore.” He yelled at the top of his lungs, “You’re dead to me!”
I started bawling on his steps. His words cut me really deep. “Justin.”
He was bawling too. “Get out of here!”
I placed a hand over my chest, aching at his hurtful words because I knew he meant every one of them. I backed off his steps, continuing to bawl. I stumbled on a step, lost my balance, and fell to the ground. I buried my face in my forearms.
He never attempted to help me. I heard his door slam shut and I was left there with his last words resonating in my ears . . . “You’re dead to me.”
Chapter 27
I didn’t plan to bring up what happened with Justin to Santana. I wanted to keep it off my mind because every time I thought about it, it made me cry. And even if I did bring it up, I knew he couldn’t do anything about it. I came home from work and walked into the kitchen, preparing to cook. But Santana had beat me to it, and was whipping something up.
“Hey, baby,” he said.
“Hi.”
“You okay?” he asked, stirring something in a pot.
I nodded.
“Cool. Go sit down. I’m going to bring you your food, babe. It’s about time I start serving you.”
I offered a smile, thinking, how sweet.
I went into the living room, which was furnished with all my things from my dad’s place. We had been now living in the Carmelitos for over a month. Truthfully, it wasn’t as bad as I thought. I expected shootouts, excessive partying, rats, roaches, messed-up pipes. But it wasn’t any of that. And the place was actually really clean. Still, it wasn’t what I was used to. I was told it took months to get into the Carmelitos. But by Santana paying the $500 to a guy who worked there, our application was expedited. I knew it was crooked but whatever.
Our rent was only fifty bucks a month. The reason it was so cheap was because they went by Santana’s income, which was only the $300 that he got from General Relief. He also got $200 in food stamps; that really helped. Santana kept his $300 so he had spending money throughout the month.
The only shameful part about living there was seeing some of my coworkers. As humiliating as it was, I knew it was either live with him in the projects or be without Santana and live in my father’s house. I told myself on a daily basis that soon we would be able to move out and find another place. Sometimes I did get discouraged; with the economy being so bad, it was so hard to find a job making more money. So I counted on Santana to finish school so he could help me out financially. When we first moved in, I wondered if it made me look like less of a woman because I wasn’t giving him the life we had before. But he said if anything, he loved and respected me more now because we were slumming and I was still holding it down like a down-ass chick. So it made me feel a lot better.
Santana came out of the kitchen, breaking my thoughts. He set a plate in my lap that had spaghetti, garlic bread, and salad. I nibbled on my food, not very hungry, as he slipped off my shoes and rubbed my feet.
“How was school?” I asked him.
“Good, babe. I learned how to work on carburetors. And did I tell you that once I graduate they’re going to help me with job placement?”
“Oh good.”
He stared at me not really eating and asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
He continued to rub my feet. “I know what’s wrong. You still bothered by that mess that happened with your parents huh?”
“No.” A little part of me was still bothered by it. But my friend’s words came back to me again and again as I sat on the couch. That was what was really on my mind, despite my trying to block it out. But I told Santana, “I’m just not hungry.”
“Don’t lie to me, baby,” he said calmly. “Look, I know I’ve said this more than once but I am so sorry for what I did and the problems it caused. I love and respect your father. I never got a chance to love your mother because she refused to accept me. But I’m really trying to be a better man for you. I know you noticed I don’t really drink anymore. Whenever I do, I fuck up like what happened with your sister. And I can’t afford anymore fuckups.”
He was right. Santana had laid off the alcohol. So I knew he was trying.
“If they would both be willing to talk to me, I would formally apologize to both of them. The same goes for your friend.”
“Santana, I know you’re sorry. Hopefully, one day my parents will be willing to listen to you. But for now, we just have to leave it alone.”
“I know, babe.”
“In all honesty, I’m a little unhappy.”
“Hopefully.” I set the plate on the coffee table, got up, and walked upstairs to the bedroom. Once there, I stripped off my clothes and lay down on the bed. I felt really fatigued.
Santana came up and got into bed with me. He stroked my hair and said, “I don’t like you upset, baby.” He held me, and it did make me feel a little better. He had that comforting quality about him. “I love you, baby. I meant what I said when I told you I would give you the world. Don’t leave me, baby.”
I looked at him and smiled. “Santana. If you get a brain tumor they might as well put that tumor in me. Because there is no way I’m leaving you.”
He smiled at that and held me tighter.
Call it stress, I guess, but the stress made me sleepy. So I fell asleep in his arms.
The next morning, I was alarmed when I went to the lot where my car was sitting on the concrete with no tires or rims on it.
I ran back to our apartment and banged on the door. “Santana!”
He rushed to the door in his boxers, no shirt on, with a toothbrush in his mouth. “What, baby?”
At this point my heart was pounding in my chest and I was crying. “Go look at my car!”
He ran out the door. I followed after him. Some of my neighbors had also stepped outside because of the commotion I was making.
I continued to cry loudly, feeling really violated. “We should have never moved in here!” I stormed away, hearing a few snickers, and someone said, “Aha. You stuck-up bitch!”
I ignored them, walked back into the house, and sat on the couch in anger. I knew I could not do anything about it and that calling the police was off limits. Santana had already warned me never to call them. He said that our house would be labeled the snitch house and we would be retaliated against for stuff that had nothing to do with us.
The Demise of Alexis Vancamp Page 15