“You should use the bathroom down the hall to clean yourself up,” Beth said to the girl.
Beth turned to leave and then turned back to speak to Zander. But the look on his face stopped her. He pulled a shirt over his head and then stepped over the girl, still on the floor. He bumped Beth’s shoulder on his way out of the room, went down the stairs two at a time and out the front door, slamming it behind him. Beth brought a towel to the young girl, who was now crying. She heard Zander starting one of his father’s cars and peeling out of the driveway.
Beth went to her bedroom, still clutching her cell phone. She sat on the bed and took deep breaths until she heard the girl scurrying down the hall and out the front door. Then she pressed redial on her cell phone. Once again, Kipenzi answered immediately.
“What happened, you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
Kipenzi and Beth both sighed heavily into the phone. For a second, they didn’t say anything—at least not verbally.
“So how’s your little one doing?” Kipenzi finally asked.
“Zander’s fine,” Beth said.
“Zander?” Kipenzi laughed. “I said how’s your little one!”
Beth shook her head. “Did I say Zander? The baby’s fine. Moving around like crazy,” she said, rubbing her belly.
Kipenzi chuckled. “Zander hasn’t been a baby in a long time,” she said.
Beth rolled over in bed and looked out into the backyard. Zander had returned. He was walking toward the cabana near the pool. The snow had begun to come down harder, heavy fluffy flakes covering the walkway. As soon as he turned the doorknob and went inside, she saw the girl with the spiral curls, walking fast behind him, looking back occasionally to see if they’d been seen. The girl opened the door to the cabana and closed it behind her.
“You’re right,” Beth said to Kipenzi, getting up to head to the grocery store. “Zander hasn’t been a baby for a very long time.”
“Z? ARE YOU HERE?”
Beth cocked her head to the side and waited for the sound of her husband’s voice. She stood in the kitchen, the door to the basement flung wide open. She rubbed her lower back and then moved her hand around to her bulging belly and rubbed it.
“Z, you down there?”
There was someone in the basement, Beth was sure of that. She was pretty sure Zander was still out back with the Girl Who Was Not Bunny. And all the younger boys were at school. But she was not about to go downstairs to find out who was in her basement. Since they had moved into the sprawling seven-bedroom house, Beth had been in the basement just once. She’d come down the steps to bring Z a snack. He had recording equipment in one of the three small bedrooms that made up the basement. She had balanced a plate of macaroni and cheese and candied yams in one hand and a glass of Henny and Coke in the other as she looked through the doors to see which room he was in.
She saw him from the back, one elbow bent with a lighter in his hand. He leaned down and inhaled from something. Beth hadn’t been able to see what. And then he exhaled, throwing his head back and blowing white plumes of smoke into the air.
Years ago Z had sworn to Beth that he would never smoke crack again. Beth had convinced herself that he’d stopped. As long as she didn’t physically see any of the paraphernalia—ever, at any time—she could pretend he only smoked weed, like every other rapper.
But in order to make sure she could keep deluding herself, she had never gone into the basement again. There was an entrance that led outside and Beth knew that men and women came in at all hours of the night. Sometimes, late at night, she’d be in bed, alone. And from far away she’d hear the loud sounds of cackling laughter, music being played at high volume, and sometimes yelling and screaming. Beth usually checked on the boys, who always slept through whatever happened in the basement, and then put in her earphones and plugged them directly into the television.
Z needed his outlets. And Beth respected that. The only time she even asked him about what happened in the basement was when she went into the kitchen one night and distinctly heard the sounds of a woman moaning and groaning. And a man’s deep voice murmuring, “Yeah, baby. Do that shit …” Z told her it was a producer he was working with. He was in one of the spare rooms with a groupie he’d met on the set of a music video. Beth told him not to have those kinds of chicks in her house and Z agreed.
So when she came home from the grocery store and saw Z’s car in the circular driveway, she immediately went to the door of the basement to see if he was there. That morning he’d left early for a studio session in Manhattan. And he had said he was going to stay in the city that night. So she was surprised to see his car.
“Z, if you’re down there, let me know!” Beth yelled once more. She was hoping he was there so she could talk to him about Zander and the girl in the cabana. She finally closed the door and locked it. If it wasn’t Z, whoever it was wouldn’t be able to get into the main house.
Beth began unpacking the groceries and putting them away, stopping every so often to listen for any signs of life in the house. After what she’d seen with Zander and the Girl Who Was Not Bunny, she was on edge. When Boo came through the back door, laden with backpacks and lunchboxes, she breathed a sigh of relief.
Boo had to bend down to get under the doorjamb without knocking his head. He came through and then pressed his back against the door. He waved his hand theatrically with a weary look on his face and smiled weakly at Beth. “Your army has arrived,” he said.
Zakee, Zach, and Zeke blew into the kitchen, followed by Mrs. Jacob, their nanny. They dashed off in three directions. Zakee barely breathed a word to Beth, grabbed an apple off the counter, and ran up the back staircase to the second floor in search of his older brother. Zach copied his movements exactly, except he stopped at the bathroom behind the kitchen before heading upstairs. And as always, little Zeke ran straight into his mother’s arms.
“How is my little sister?” Zeke asked, as Beth smothered his cheek with wet kisses.
“We don’t know for sure that it’s a girl.”
“It is a girl, Mommy,” Zeke said, giggling and trying to break free from Beth’s grasp.
Beth lifted Zeke up and sat him down on the island in the center of the kitchen. She pulled his chin up to look him straight in the eye.
“Zeke, how much does Mommy love you?”
“Lots and lots,” he said, his face solemn.
Boo cleared his throat and stepped forward with Zeke’s bag.
“A’ight, little man,” he said. “Go upstairs with Mrs. Jacobs.”
As soon as the nanny picked up Zeke and started up the staircase, Beth turned toward Boo, who had his massive frame bent down to look into the refrigerator.
“When did Z start smoking again?”
Beth could tell that Boo was no longer looking for something to eat. He was just stalling. He closed the door and turned to her.
“Is he here?” Boo asked.
“No. He’s not here. But someone is in my basement.”
“Oh, that must be Donald. Yeah, he was at the studio last night. Must’ve needed a place to stay.”
“Boo. You didn’t answer me. Is Z smoking?”
“Beth. How long has it been since he stopped?”
“Three years. But that doesn’t mean—”
“You gotta trust him then. Can’t be running around seeing smoke when there ain’t none.”
“He’s just been off lately. The show in Atlanta … Some chick’s on the radio talking ’bout she’s got a baby by Z and she’s pregnant again. Z must be smoking if he’s getting bitches pregnant twice.”
Boo sucked his teeth and shook his head. “You know that girl’s probably lying her ass off.”
Boo had his back up against the entryway of the kitchen that led to the foyer. One of the tiny gelatin snacks that the nanny packed in the boys’ lunches looked like pretend food for a doll baby in Boo’s massive hands. He dug into the confection with a plastic spoon, looking vulnerable and help
less, like a bear with oversized claws trying to extract honey from a pot.
“Boo, I know you work for Z, not me.”
Boo nodded but didn’t look up from his snack.
“But you need to know this.”
Something in Beth’s voice made Boo look up. Her eyes were wide but not glassy like they were when she was upset. They were clear and vibrant.
“You are a part of this family. Not just a part of Z’s entourage. Maybe it shouldn’t be that way, but it is.” Beth looked down at her belly and then back up at Boo. “If my husband is on that shit again, I don’t know what I’m gonna do.”
Despite the fact that she clenched her back teeth hard, tears still sprouted out of Beth’s eyes. “You need to find a way to let me know without betraying Z’s confidence,” Beth said. “Because I have to know.”
Boo froze. A lot was riding on his ability not to give away anything. Whether he knew if Z was back on drugs or not wasn’t important. Either way, he couldn’t give her a single clue. He’d be out of a job before Beth even approached Z about it.
Boo stared at Beth, his face completely blank. She searched his eyes, willing him to break his gaze or scratch his forehead—anything. Any kind of movement would tell her something.
Boo didn’t budge. There was a silent standoff for one long minute. Finally Beth exhaled and looked away. Boo immediately went back to eating his snack.
“Where is he now?” Beth asked, turning to put a pot of water on the stove for spaghetti.
“Studio.”
Beth reached over for the cordless phone and began to dial Z’s cell number. She heard his phone begin to ring and looked around the kitchen to see where it was coming from.
“I have his cell phone,” Boo said, patting his pocket.
Beth’s shoulders slumped. She dialed the number to the studio. When the receptionist answered, she asked to be put through to the engineer.
“Electric Lady Studios. How can I help you?”
“This is Beth. Who is this?”
The engineer covered the earpiece for a few seconds before answering. “Mrs. Saddlebrook, Z is not here.”
“Does he have a session there tonight?”
“Hold, please.”
Beth got on tiptoe and leaned over to get a jar of spaghetti sauce out of the cabinet.
“Hey, Beth, it’s Dylan.”
“Put my husband on the phone.”
“He’s in the booth with Kanye. We’re paying him an ungodly amount of money. If I move Z, God only knows what will happen.”
“I will say this again in plain English. Put my fucking husband on the phone.”
“Hold on.”
Beth had the phone in the crook of her neck as she opened the jar. She stopped as soon as the safety seal popped up and turned around to look at Boo, who was pretending to be on his cell phone.
“Beth? I was wrong,” Dylan said. “Z’s actually done. He shut down his session already. I was up here doing paperwork and I thought he was still working.”
“He shut down his session? As of when?”
“Engineer said an hour ago. And that he was headed to the airport.”
“Where is he going? Did you make travel arrangements for him?”
“He just took my card, he didn’t tell me where he was—”
Beth hung up the phone without saying another word and put the sauce in the refrigerator. “He left,” she said, wiping her hands on her track pants. “And you know it.”
Boo took his cell phone down from his ear and closed it. “Beth, I gotta get back into the city,” he said. “If you need anything—”
“Where is he?”
Boo opened his mouth to speak just as Zander came through the door at the rear of the kitchen.
“My dude Boo, what it do?” Zander asked in a playful, high-pitched voice.
“You heard from your father?” Beth asked.
Zander ignored Beth, lifting up the pants leg of Boo’s jeans and letting out a whistle. “Damn, son. Them shits is nice. You stay rocking the hot shit!”
Boo shrugged and then stole a look at Beth.
“Zander, did you hear me talking to you?”
Zander sucked his teeth and twisted his lips up in that way that made Beth want to knock him down to the ground. If she weren’t pregnant, she would have.
“Whatever, yo.”
“Whatever? Who do you think you’re talking to?”
Zander stopped and turned around. He took two large steps toward Beth and stopped. Beth realized in that moment that she did not remember when exactly he’d grown taller than her.
“I’m talking to you,” he said. He dragged his eyes from Beth’s feet to her eyes very slowly, with a disgusted smirk on his face the entire time.
“No, little boy,” Beth said, “you are not talking to me. I will smack the shit out of you.”
“Do it!” Zander screamed, throwing his hands up in the air. “Smack me! I dare you to put your hands on me.”
Boo ambled over from the corner of the kitchen. “Zan, chill out. That’s your moms.”
Zander waved a hand dismissively in the air. “I don’t care.”
Beth’s nostrils flared wide and she shut her eyes tight. Her baby kicked her in the ribs—hard. She winced and took in a sharp breath.
“You a’ight, Beth?” Boo asked, taking one step closer to her.
“I’m fine.”
“Ain’t nothing wrong with her,” Zander spat.
Beth was finding it more and more difficult to breathe. This was her son. Her oldest child. The one she had had when she and Z were flat broke. The one who knew what it was like to go to sleep hungry. The one who actually appreciated having money. Beth could still remember pulling up to the house in Saddle River with Zander on her lap. He was grinning from ear to ear and Beth had to squeeze him tight to keep him from jumping out of the U-Haul before they came to a complete stop.
She’d wiped this boy’s ass. Fed him. Clothed him. They were a team. She’d shielded him from his father’s abrasiveness and convinced him that Z really did love him. And as soon as he decided he believed her, Zander had turned on her. She didn’t understand it. And it didn’t just hurt her feelings, it pissed her off. He was a teenager, so being a pain in the ass was to be expected. But for Beth, being disloyal was unforgivable at any age.
Beth looked Zander up and down and then reached for the phone. “You need to spend a few days with your grandmother,” she said.
“Please,” said Zander. “I’m outta here.”
He bounded up the stairs, two at a time, with Beth behind him, moving as quickly as she could.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Zander went into his room, Beth following. He dug into his closet, throwing clothes on his bed. Zakee was sitting on the top bunk of Zander’s bunk beds, watching with wide eyes.
“Zan, where you going?” Zakee asked, trying to hide the panic he felt.
“That’s what I want to know,” said Beth, leaning her frame into the doorway with her arms across her chest.
Zander took a duffel bag from under his bed and began throwing his clothes into it.
“I’m going away for the weekend.”
Beth rolled her eyes. “Please. Did you talk to your father about this?”
Zander stopped packing and turned around to face Beth. “I’m going to Anguilla. That’s where Daddy is right now.”
Beth opened her mouth but didn’t say anything.
“Yeah. Don’t you feel stupid? You always trying to ride me. Tell me what to do. You ain’t even know Daddy was going.”
Zander zipped his bag, looked around his room, and then threw the bag over his shoulder and started walking toward Beth in the doorway. Beth didn’t move. Zander stopped just a few inches away from her.
“Excuse me.”
“Your father went to Anguilla?” Beth seemed to be talking to herself.
Zander’s upper lip curled up in disgust. “You are pathetic.”
&
nbsp; Beth just looked past her son and up at Zakee on the bed. “How could he just leave for Anguilla and not tell me?”
“Could you move? Daddy sent a car to take me to the airport. Got a ticket waiting for me.”
“We have things to talk about.”
“Like what.”
“Like the girl I saw in your room earlier today.”
“Nothing to talk about.”
“What about Bunny? Are you still seeing her?”
“Yeah. She knows what’s up.”
“And you’re okay with that?”
“The important thing is Bunny’s okay with it,” Zander said, his lips twisted in a sarcastic smile. “You know how that is. Don’t you, Ma? What’s the big deal if your man cheats? As long as you get what you want out of the deal. Isn’t that the way that works?”
Zander brushed past Beth and headed down the stairs. Something snapped inside Beth and she hauled ass into the hallway, past Zander, down the staircase, and out the front door, where there was a Town Car idling in front. She dashed around to the driver’s side and rapped on the window. The driver looked up, startled, from his newspaper and pressed the button.
“Don’t move this car,” she said, pointing at him.
The driver threw his hands up. “Look, lady. I’m just picking the kid up and taking him to the airport. Orders from Mr. Saddlebrook—”
“I said don’t move this motherfucking car!” Beth screamed. She stomped her left foot twice, made a fist, and slammed it on the hood of the car.
“Ten minutes,” she said, her voice suddenly calm. “You can leave in ten minutes.”
Beth backed away from the car and went back toward the house. She walked directly into a group of men and women holding cameras and lighting equipment and giving each other directions.
“What the fuck is this?” Beth screamed, one eye on the Town Car.
“We’re shooting the first episode of The Z Files,” said a tall, lanky man with spectacles and long, thin dreadlocks.
“Not today, you’re not.”
“Dylan told us to be here at two. And that we could shoot you and the kids for an hour.”
“Dylan told you wrong. Get the fuck off my property.”
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