Married Men

by Carl Weber

  “Who is she, Jay? Who is Tracy?”

  “She’s just a friend.”

  “Oh, yeah.” It was obvious from her expression she saw right through my lie. She looked down at the card and read out loud the inscription I wrote on the back. I never realized how mushy and melodramatic I was until I heard Kenya read my words. I was embarrassed and proud at the same time. That note took me three hours to write, and it sounded good.

  “That’s one hell of a friend you got there, Jay. I can’t remember the last time you wrote me a note like this.” She started to cry, and I felt like shit. “You expect me to believe this woman is just a friend?” She lifted her head and waited for an answer.

  Like a fool, I nodded. She balled both her fists up and hit me on the side of the head repeatedly. “Don’t fuckin’ play with me, Jay! Don’t you fuckin’ play! Goddammit!” She wasn’t calm anymore. She was hysterical, and kept hitting me.

  Finally I grabbed her by the wrists and screamed. “Okay, okay, you want the truth? She’s my lover! Is that what you wanna hear?” She stopped her attack and just stood, sobbing and staring. I felt like I was shrinking in front of her.

  “Do you love her?” I looked away from her, trying my best not to make eye contact. But she was right in front of me. I couldn’t avoid her. “I asked you a question, Jay. Do you love her?” Our marriage was over, and it was confession time. I swallowed hard and answered her question.

  “Yeah, Kenya, I love her.” I tightened my jaw, still trying to avoid eye contact.

  She nodded her head slowly, like she’d already known my answer.

  “H-how long?” Her voice was choked up. “How long has this been going on?”

  “About six months.” I looked down, and she was wiping her tears away with her sleeve.

  “Is she pretty?”

  I nodded my head, answering her in a whisper. “I think so.”

  “She’s young, isn’t she?” She stared at me as if the answer was of vital importance. “How old is she, Jay?” I thought about lying, but she’d find out the truth sooner or later.

  “She just turned twenty.”

  “My God, she’s just a kid. She’s the same age as my niece. What is wrong with you?” Kenya twisted her face up and stepped away. Tracy’s age must have just added insult to injury. I dressed as fast as I could and walked out of the room. It was obviously time for me to go. I didn’t wanna answer any more questions. I just wanted to get out of there. But by the time I got to the bottom of the stairs to walk out the door, she called my name. Like a fool, I turned around.

  “I hate you, Jay. Do you understand me? I hate your child-molesting ass.”

  “You don’t hate me, Kenya. You can’t hate me.” She threw a vase from the top of the stairs to convince me that she really did. I stumbled backward as the vase hit me.

  “Something to remember me by,” she yelled. I wasn’t bleeding, but I was gonna have a hell of a knot on my head. I walked out the door and retrieved my belongings, which were packed up neatly in suitcases. It was finally over, and all of a sudden I wasn’t sure I was ready to let go.

  41

  Kyle

  I’d never seen Allen A.M.E. Church so packed, and there wasn’t a dry eye in the place, including mine. It was Monday, three days after the tragic shooting of Ma Jackson, and the funeral service had been standing room only as the pastor and different members of the community made testimony after testimony about how great a woman Ma had been. I hated funerals, but I had to admit as funerals go, Ma Jackson’s had to be the best I’d ever attended. As much as I disliked Rose, she had done one hell of a job putting together all the arrangements. She’d really done right by her mother-in-law, and it’s a good thing too, ’cause Allen was in no shape to handle anything. Not that I blamed him. They’d have shipped me off to Creedmoor Psychiatric Hospital in a straightjacket if my mom had been gunned down in front of her house.

  “Yo, dawg, you ready to get up outta this place?” I looked up at Jay, who was standing over me with his coat over his arm. I don’t know why he was so eager to leave. We’d only been at Ma Jackson’s house about a half an hour and we hadn’t even eaten yet. Like the rest of Allen’s friends and family, we’d gathered over there after the funeral for the traditional potluck dinner and chance to pay our final condolences to the family. Jay had been bugging me ever since we left the church to leave because I’d promised to introduce him to my landlord, Mr. Sanford.

  “Nah, not yet, Jay. I think we need to stick around here awhile ‘til the crowd thins out. We can help Allen and Rose with the cleanup.” I hadn’t talked to Allen since he stormed out of the hospital the other night, and I wanted to make sure he was all right. I looked up at Jay, who tried to hide a frown. He was standing next to his new woman, Tracy, and by the way she sucked her teeth, I’m sure she was ready to leave too. Not that I cared if they wanted to get into my building. She was gonna have to wait ’til I was ready.

  “You sure you wanna stay?” Jay sounded a little desperate this time, and kept glancing over at Tracy.

  “Yeah, I’m sure. But if you two wanna leave, go ’head. We’ll just have to meet with Mr. Sanford on another day.”

  “Come on, Kyle.” He sounded like a baby.

  “Sorry, Jay, I’m not leaving here until I see Allen and make sure he’s okay.” I watched him sigh. “You do wanna make sure he’s all right. Don’t you?”

  “No, you’re right,” he agreed. “We gotta make sure he’s aw’ight first.” Jay reached out and wrapped his arm around Tracy kinda cautiously. “You don’t mind if we stay until I see Allen, do you, boo?” He smiled liked a little boy, but it didn’t work.

  “I wanna go, Jay,” she pouted, pulling herself away from him.

  “Come on, boo. You want this apartment don’t you?” I’d never seen him plead with a woman before, not even Kenya. It was pretty pathetic, especially for him to be cowering in front of this young girl who was sounding like such a selfish bitch right about now. She should’ve known Allen would need us at a time like this. She should’ve cut Jay some slack.

  “Okay,” she sighed, “we can stay. But I swear to God if that bitch points at me one more time I’m gonna smack her.” Tracy glared evilly at two women standing in a corner, whispering back and forth. They were trying to be nonchalant, but they were nothing but obvious.

  “Be cool, aw’ight? We’re at a funeral,” Jay pleaded.

  I lowered my head and let out a chuckle. I don’t know why I hadn’t figured it out earlier. The reason the two of them were in such a rush to leave wasn’t because they wanted to see my landlord at all, but because of all the dirty looks they’d been getting. No offense to Ma Jackson, but Jay and Tracy were the main topic of conversation both at the church and here in the house. Not that Jay should’ve expected anything less. When you’re thirty-six years old and show up to a funeral with a woman damn near half your age and she’s wearing maternity clothes two days after you and your wife split, you gotta expect people to talk. Especially when half the women there are your wife’s friends and the other half are her enemies because you was fucking with them at one time or another.

  “Hey, baby. Why don’t you go get us a couple of plates to take home? Hopefully by the time you’re done, Kyle and me will have found Allen and we can leave.” Tracy nodded and Jay kissed her lips before pointing to the dining room where the food was being served. “And ignore those dumb bitches. They’re just jealous ’cause you so damn fine.” Jay winked at her with a smile, then patted her on the ass.

  “Okay, baby, but don’t you be talking to none of these old ass bitches while I’m gone. I don’t wanna have to turn this place out.” She smiled, and the two of us watched her disappear into the crowded dining room. When she was out of sight, I gave Jay a curious look.

  “She’s a little jealous,” he said timidly. I could tell he was embarrassed. He wouldn’t make eye contact.

  “I can see that,” I grinned.

  “So what do you think, man? She’s
fine, isn’t she?”

  “Ohhh yeah, she’s fine all right. As fine as you are stupid! ” My voice was so serious Jay did a double take.

  “Huh? What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You tell me, Jay. What the hell were you thinking about bringing her to Ma Jackson’s funeral?”

  “Please, Kyle. Ain’t nobody question you when you was hanging out with Val at the Roadhouse.”

  “Duh!” I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes. “Lisa’s friends don’t hang out at the Roadhouse Bar, Jay. But everybody here knows Kenya. I wouldn’t be surprised if she hasn’t gotten five calls by now, and by tomorrow she’ll get fifty.” I shook my head. “Besides, you didn’t see me taking Val to Allen’s wedding, did you?”

  “No.”

  “All right, then. Don’t let that good-ass pussy you been gettin’ get in the way of common sense.” I looked at him seriously, then softened my tone. “Besides, Tracy shouldn’t have to put up with this shit. Everybody in here’s whispering behind her back like she’s the hunchback or something. Isn’t that why you was about to leave?”

  “Yeah, I guess so, but I had to bring her, Kyle. You don’t know what I went through last night. She had her shit packed up and was gonna leave when I got home. She’s sick of being left alone.”

  “That’s still no excuse for bringing her here.” I was about to read him the riot act but I spotted Wil heading our way, and this was not a conversation he needed to be a part of. “Hey, let’s talk about this later. Here comes Wil.”

  “Aw’ight,” Jay replied as Wil walked right up to him.

  “Yo, Jay, I need to talk to you, man.” Wil looked agitated. I was praying he wasn’t gonna start with Jay about bringing Tracy to the funeral.

  “What’s up?” Jay exhaled, and I’m sure he was thinking the same thing.

  “I just got a call on my cell from Marcus Stetson. He’s the head of shipping at the job.” Wil wiped his face. It looked like he was trying to hold back tears. “He just told me Diane took the job at the Atlanta distribution center. She’s gonna take my kids to Atlanta.”

  “What? Awww, shit.” I shook my head. “Wil, I’m so sorry, man.”

  “So am I, but I’m not gonna let her get away with this.” Wil sighed. “Jay, I need your help to stop her.” You could hear the desperation in his voice.

  “You need my help?” Jay raised an eyebrow and his tone revealed his amazement. Hell, I was pretty damn amazed myself. After all they’d been through in the last year, I never thought Wil would ask Jay for help with his marriage.

  “Yeah,” Wil nodded. “I need your help. You said you could get me and Diane back together.”

  “I thought you didn’t want me to get involved.”

  “Yeah, well, I changed my mind. Desperate times call for desperate measures,” Wil said sternly.

  “Okay man, if that’s what you want. All we gotta do is—” Wil raised his hand, cutting Jay off.

  “I don’t wanna know what you’re gonna do. Just do it, okay?” Wil wiped away a tear. “Get my family back for me, Jay. I’m begging you. I don’t care what you gotta do. Just get them back.” Wil grabbed Jay’s arm and started to squeeze until Jay nodded his head.

  “Hey, Wil, relax. I’ll take care of it. Trust me on that. But it’s not gonna be pretty.”

  “I don’t care if it’s pretty. I just want my family back.”

  “Okay, you got it.” Jay patted Wil on the back confidently.

  “Thanks, Jay. I don’t know what I’d do without you guys.” Wil finally sounded at ease as he wrapped his arm around Jay and smiled at me. The two of them embraced in a brotherly hug that reminded me just how much we all meant to each other.

  “Come on, dawg, what are friends for?” Jay said.

  “Speaking of friends? Y’all seen Allen?” I decided it was time to change the subject before our male bonding session had us all in tears. There’d been way too many tears lately.

  “No, but I been looking for him,” Wil replied. “I haven’t seen him since I left the church.”

  “Me neither.” I was a little worried now.

  “You know they still haven’t caught those boys who shot Ma Jackson?” Wil blurted out.

  “Well, when they do, they don’t need to send them to jail. Just let me have about fifteen minutes with ’em. I’ll save the city a whole bunch of money on a trial.” Jay slammed a fist against his palm.

  “Yeah, just make sure you save some for me,” Wil added. His face was red with anger. “You know they shot her for ten fuckin’ dollars? She went to the ATM, took out twenty, and spent ten on groceries. All she had was ten fucking bucks in her purse.” Wil’s voice was shaking.

  “I’ll tell you what. The cops better find ’em before I do,” Jay stated flatly.

  “What we need to do is find Allen,” I interrupted.

  “I’ll find him. Hold up.” Wil walked over to a group of people and grabbed Rose, who was accepting their condolences.

  “Rose, where’s Allen?”

  “He’s in the den with the baby.” She pointed to the den. “Do me a favor, Wil. Go in there and make him come out here. All he’s doing is sitting in there talkin’ to himself. I know he’s upset, but the least he can do is come out here and say thank you to these people for bringing all this food. Some of them came all the way from down South.” Wil looked at me, then at Jay. Without saying it, we all knew what we had to do. We had to go in there and show Allen he wasn’t alone. That it was possible to go on with his life now that his mother was gone.

  “Yeah, we’ll talk to him,” Wil nodded, then headed for the den.

  When we opened the door, poor Allen never said a word. He just sat there in his mother’s recliner holding a framed picture of her in one hand and a manila envelope in the other. I felt sorry for him. He looked like the world was about to come to an end, and I guess for him it had.

  “Hey, Al, sorry about your mom, bro.” I grabbed hold of him then let him go, and Jay took my place, squeezing him tight.

  “You know I really loved her, right?” Jay sniffled, and Allen nodded.

  “She was like a mom to all of us, Al.” Wil wrapped his arms around Allen when Jay stepped away.

  “Yeah, I know,” Allen said sadly. He tried to smile, but it just wasn’t working. “She loved you guys, too. She even left you in her will.” He lifted the envelope as the three of us sat down.

  “She did?” Jay’s eyes widened.

  “Yeah, she did. Three grand each.” I suppose we were all surprised by the news, because none of us said a word until Allen finally spoke.

  “I tried to be a good son to her, y’all, but all I ever did was fuck up. She only asked me for one thing before she left this earth and I couldn’t even do that right. Dammit!” He slammed the picture down on the table next to him and the frame broke. Jay and I looked at each other, then at him. As far as we were concerned, he was talking crazy. He’d been a better son to his mom than any of us had been to ours, and Wil made sure he knew it.

  “You’re being kinda hard on yourself, aren’t you? You were a good son to your mom. Better than I could ever be.”

  “I wish you was right, Wil.” Allen stood up, throwing the envelope on Wil’s lap. He walked over to the portable crib and gently picked up his sleeping son. It was amazing he hadn’t woken up when his father slammed that picture down. “What’s the only thing my ma ever asked me for, Wil?”

  He kissed Jonathan then stared at Wil, who shrugged his answer. Wil never even looked up because he was reading whatever was in that envelope.

  “What about you, Jay? You remember?”

  “I don’t know.” Jay gave him a puzzled look.

  “Kyle?” He looked at me and I ran my finger over my mustache. Truth is, I didn’t know what he was talking about, but after watching the way he held on to his son, I decided to take a stab at it.

  “She always told me she wanted a grandchild of her own.” I had to chuckle as I thought about how Ma Jackson used to
always bitch and moan about not having grandchildren. “Y’know, I think she was jealous that we all had kids and you didn’t.” I looked at his boy and smiled. “Thank God she had a chance to spend time with Jonathan before she passed.”

  “Yeah, too bad he’s not her grandchild.” He let out a pathetic laugh and my smile became a frown. I couldn’t believe he’d just let that shit come out his mouth. If I didn’t know he was grieving, I swear I would’ve smacked the shit outta him right there. ’Cause there was no need for him to talk about his mother or his son that way.

  “Look, Al, I know you’ve had a rough couple of days, but that shit ain’t funny.” I tried to control my attitude, but it wasn’t easy.

  “Do I look like I’m laughing, Kyle? I love this boy.” The sarcasm was gone and his voice was dead serious now. He kissed the baby again then looked at us solemnly. I’m sure he was seconds away from tears. “I love him, but he’s not my son.”

  “Yeah, right. Then whose kid is he?” Jay laughed sarcastically. I shot him a dirty look, hoping to shut him up, but there was no need. Allen took care of him with a sharp tongue.

  “He’s got a better chance of being your son than mine, Jay. Didn’t you have a cousin that died of sickle-cell?” I still didn’t have a clue about what he was talking about. I watched him place the baby back in the crib then wipe away tears.

  “Allen, what makes you think he’s not your son?” I sat back in my chair, confused but willing to listen.

  “I don’t think, Kyle, I know.” He swallowed hard and took a deep breath before he explained the events that had unfolded at Johns Hopkins Hospital the day of his mother’s death. The way he told the story there was no doubt in my mind he was telling the truth. But even so, I couldn’t help but peek in the crib and look at the baby to search for some resemblance to Allen. I mean damn, shit like this didn’t really happen, did it? Besides, how the hell did Rose think she was gonna get away with something like this? Sooner or later the truth would have to come out.