Saint's Sacrament - Sins of the Father

by Laveen, Tiana

  Lawrence, God forbid, if I ever have to identify your body at a morgue, I am certain I will confirm that your balls really have been removed and tucked under that woman’s pillow…

  ~***~

  “I won!” Hassani screamed as he gripped his basketball. A few of the neighbors had rolled through, bringing their children for dessert and a late night swim and games. The evening, minus the Pam and Henry argument, was a success. Saint sat under the umbrella table and the cool night air moved the delicious smells of food, pool chlorine and ladies’ perfumes around. He ran his hand down his slightly protruding stomach after practicing some epic gluttony.

  “I did a number on that strawberry shortcake,” he muttered, feeling as though he was falling into a food coma.

  “I know, I saw you. Sugar overdose. That’s not like you, but it was fun to watch.” Xenia giggled as she plopped on his lap, making him groan in pain. He wrapped his arms around her waist.

  Lawrence, Jagger, Donna and Traci stood huddled together, laughing and chatting, while Pam and Porsche looked through someone’s phone at what appeared to be photos. Saint’s eyes cut back over to Donna. He watched as she bent over—slowly—and removed a wine cooler from the container of semi-melted ice. The bottle glistened. A picture of a juicy red strawberry was featured on the front, while beads of condensation and running water ran down the cool glass and over her fingertips.

  Please tell me she is getting that for someone else…

  She twisted the cap, laughing, her white teeth gleaming as she turned back toward her husband and just like that, she put it up to her puckered mouth and took a dainty swig.

  “Oh shit!” Saint rose abruptly from his seat, almost knocking Xenia to the ground. “Sorry baby!” he said at the look of confusion on her face. Rushing over to Donna, he snatched the bottle out of her hand as if it were a serpent ready to strike, forcing half the contents to swish and land onto the concrete in a fizzy mess.

  “What is your problem?!” Donna yelled as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

  “Uh, I saw a bee or something in it. I didn’t want you to get stung.” Saint was met with steely silence from the entire group.

  That was the best I could do within a moment’s notice. It sounds as stupid as I look right now…shit!

  He looked at Lawrence and Jagger. Both men appeared puzzled, but Lawrence actually seemed angry as well.

  “Saint, what is going on here?” Lawrence asked. Saint could feel the man trying to enter his private thoughts. He immediately put the damned things on lock down. “That’s it! You’re blocking! You tell me right now what the hell is going on? Why did you do that to my wife?”

  “Blocking?” Traci repeated in almost a whisper. She looked at Jagger. “What’s that?”

  Jagger’s face reddened. He pretended to not hear her.

  “Okay…” Saint resolved in a defeated tone. “Donna and Lawrence, can I speak to you alone, please?”

  “If this is to talk to me into liking you again, Saint, the answer is ‘no’,” she said glibly.

  “No, Donna, it’s not to try to get you to like me. I don’t care about you liking me. I was trying to make peace for Lawrence’s sake so please don’t flatter yourself.” He didn’t miss the look of shock on her face but Saint was tired of keeping this secret for weeks and he was sick of her, too. He had no idea why they didn’t know yet, but it was time to release the hounds.

  “Saint, that was uncalled for. Don’t speak to my wife that way.” Lawrence’s voice deepened, and from the look in his eye, the man meant business.

  “Look.” Saint briefly closed his eyes and exhaled. He backed down for the greater good. “It’s been a long day and Donna is just so…never mind, let’s just talk over here.” He pointed back at the kitchen. All three walked inside. Saint closed the patio door and put his hands on his hips.

  “Look, Donna, sorry that you hate my guts and Lawrence, my intention is not to upset you or your wife but I’ve waited, and you two seem to be none the wiser.”

  “None the wiser about what?”

  “Donna.” Saint put his hand on her shoulder. The woman looked slowly over and down at his hand, as if it were a slimy worm that had crawled and landed on her person. “Have you been feeling strange or different lately?”

  She frowned, then her facial expression relaxed. “Well, I’ve had some headaches and trouble sleeping. Why? Did you pick up something about me? Is something wrong?”

  He didn’t miss the worry in her tone.

  “Nothing is wrong. You’re pregnant.”

  Donna and Lawrence stared at him, completely stunned. They turned toward each other and burst out laughing, then jumped into each other’s arms.

  “Are you sure?!” Lawrence asked excitedly as he hugged his wife in exhilaration.

  “Yes, I’m sure. I found out from you, actually, Lawrence, and I asked Xenia to do me a favor a couple weeks ago so I could make sure she hadn’t miscarried, because I could tell you still didn’t know or you would’ve told me by now.”

  “The hair!” Donna burst out laughing again as she let go of her husband. “Xenia said her mother wanted to do my hair for some portfolio photos she was putting together, and she needed volunteers. I was hesitant but came over. There were other women over here, so I figured it was legit and plus, I needed my ends trimmed and a deep condition. I saw Xenia sweep up the pieces after her mother cut it, and she put a few in a Ziploc. I asked her about it and she said it was just superstition. She didn’t like to just toss hair straight in the trashcan. I just thought she was weird like you!” Lawrence and Saint burst out laughing.

  “Yeah.” Saint smirked. “It was for me, so I could touch it and read you but her mother really did need those photos and Xenia does feel that way about hair. Pam got her into that superstition.” He rolled his eyes. “So she wasn’t completely lying.”

  “The test I took a few weeks ago was negative. I thought I may have been, you know, there were signs, but after it said ‘no’, I thought it was just wishful thinking. We’ve been trying for so long but gave up,” she confessed, the sorrow evident in her tone. She covered her mouth with her hands. “I’m so happy!” Her eyes filled with tears. “Are you sure?” She came quickly off her high, flooding with doubt.

  “Let me prove it to you. May I touch your stomach?”

  “...Yes,” she said hesitantly.

  “Lawrence, come over to me. I’m going to let you feel what I feel, through me.”

  Just then, Xenia walked in, a big smile on her face.

  “You were out there dippin’, weren’t you?” Saint laughed as he pressed his hand against the woman’s flat stomach.

  “Yes!” his wife confessed, as giddy as a teenage girl who got asked to prom by her secret crush.

  “Now, Lawrence, put your hand over mine.” The man did as told.

  After a few seconds, Lawrence’s mouth dropped open.

  “Oh my God, Donna! I feel the baby! Oh my God!”

  A tear cascaded down the woman’s satiny, dark brown skin. Her eyes said it all…gratitude.

  Saint cleared his throat and slowly removed his hand, taking Lawrence’s away with him.

  “Thank you, Saint.” Donna’s words were crisp and clean. Sincere.

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Um…” Worry returned in her tone. “You may or may not know this, but I did have a miscarriage not too long ago…”

  Lawrence looked at her in shock.

  “Lawrence, don’t be upset.” Her voice shook. “Honey, by the time I went to the doctor to confirm if I was pregnant or not, he said the pregnancy was already self-terminated so I didn’t bother telling you…no need to have you suffer as well. I was only four weeks along. It happened so quickly.”

  Lawrence gulped, his emotions unreadable as he blocked Saint out and retreated within himself.

  “I still would have liked to have been told. That was my baby, too…”

  Saint watched the man’s hands fist and unfist
by his sides.

  Oh shit…cool down, Lawrence…come on.

  Lawrence shot him a glance, his eyes darkened, but he remained quiet. Saint was becoming increasingly worried about the man. He was holding a lot of animosity in and an otherwise beautiful moment was being sullied from the admission.

  “Will this…will this baby be okay? I can take the truth.”

  “I believe so, Donna. I think the baby will be just fine. Just take it easy.”

  Xenia took Donna by the hand and led her away into the living room, no doubt to discuss baby registries, names and the whole nine. If a new baby was coming, Xenia was all over it.

  Saint crossed his arms and leaned against the counter. Here he was, once again, in his kitchen having an uncomfortable moment. Just then, Jagger slid the kitchen door open, a new beer bottle in his hand. He closed the sliding door behind him.

  “Traci is with Xenia’s mother, Stacey and Porsche are playing dominos.” He huffed as his black flip-flops smacked loudly against the floor. “Don’t worry.” He took another swig of the frothy caramel liquid and grinned at them. “She is the designated driver. She’s only had one cooler.”

  “Okay,” Saint said sleepily, feeling tired all of a sudden. “Donna and Xenia are in there.” He pointed in the direction of the living room. “Well, somewhere in the house. It’s gotten quiet.”

  “So, what was all that about out there?” He pointed out the patio doorway. “You snatched the drink out of Donna’s hand.” Jagger raised a brow in question.

  Saint shot a look at Lawrence. A budding smile on his face turned into an all out burst of excited laughter.

  “Donna is pregnant,” Lawrence announced.

  “Congrats, man!” Jagger grabbed him with his free hand and gave him a hug.

  “Thank you.” Lawrence disappeared, seeming to drift in quiet reflection. “We didn’t know—Saint managed to pick up on it so that’s why he confiscated her cooler.”

  “Cool. Great news, man.”

  Everyone was quiet, lost in their own world.

  “So, it’s just us now…” Jagger’s eyes darted between the two men. They were all well aware of the tension in the room but no one called it by name just yet.

  “So…” Saint ran a hand down his face, dragging his lips down along the way. “It’s been a long day and—”

  “Are you kicking us out?” Jagger asked with a slight sneer, apparently not ready for the festivities to end. “By the way, your mother-in-law is hilarious! She was just telling us about her trip to Jamaica.”

  Saint smirked and nodded.

  “Yeah, but we could have done without what happened. Sorry you all had to hear that.”

  “Hey, that was the best entertainment I’ve had in weeks!” Jagger cracked up. Lawrence couldn’t help but smile, though it was obvious he’d been fighting it.

  “Yeah, it was funny, but I know the situation is probably painful for Xenia,” Lawrence added sympathetically.

  “Yeah, it is and no, actually I’m not trying to kick anyone out.” Saint paused, trying to gather his thoughts as he chased the tension with a broom. “I’m just…trying to explain…shit! Look Lawrence, I was trying to speak to your wife before the whole pregnancy announcement and I saw you two earlier having some sort of dispute. I know it’s none of my business…” He paused briefly, catching a breath. “But I’m just a little worried. I’m happy and worried, if that makes any sense.” Saint felt like he was rambling, but he continued on. “It just seems…it’s always something. I can barely get through one day with you without her calling you and going off, or pulling you out of a meeting. It’s disruptive, man. I don’t know what to do to fix this or make it better. I’ve got nothing against her but—” Saint sighed in vexation.

  “She’s pushy, inconsiderate, and acts like she has something to prove.” Lawrence’s voice was cold. “I’m fully aware of who I am married to. I’m not making excuses for her, but you two don’t know her like I do.”

  Saint and Jagger glanced at one another. Saint doubted what he said, but tried to hide it from Lawrence.

  “She is the eldest of seven children, and her mother was never home, always out working, and her father was really sick. He had all sorts of health problems. She practically had to raise her brothers and sisters and she has always had it in her mind that she has to be a mother to everyone. Initially, that was what caused me to fall in love with her…” Lawrence sighed and closed his eyes, then looked over at Jagger whose expression was carefully guarded. “You remember…”

  Jagger nodded in agreement, then took a slow taste of his beer. “Yeah. I thought she was great. At first.”

  Lawrence frowned at his friend and turned back toward Saint. “Whatever I needed, she was right there. I could tell her anything. We had great conversations. We have a lot of chemistry. I’m completely in love with that woman.” He pointed to the living room. “We had a great connection. She accepted me for what I was, very open-minded.”

  Jagger looked away, a guilty expression on his face.

  “But—there is this issue and she refuses to look at it. She is a controlling person. I prefer to try to talk to her in a way that isn’t demeaning, but let my feelings be known nevertheless.”

  “And look how far it’s gotten ya!” Jagger laughed, loud and obnoxious. Saint and Lawrence shot him looks of disapproval. “What?!” They ignored him and turned away.

  “Lawrence, Jagger does have a point. If something isn’t working, you have to try something else.”

  “Yes, I know…”

  “You want something to drink, man?” Saint opened the refrigerator and scanned it for something strong. All the good stuff was in his study. “All I have up here is some red wine and beer.”

  “A glass of wine would be nice.” Lawrence made his way to the kitchen booth and slumped down in the seat, as though he were a conquered man on his way to death row. Like a watchtower beacon, the light moved from his eyes, leaving dark hollows, blacker than black. Saint poured two glasses and the three gentlemen took their respective seats. The sounds of children playing, water splashing and the O’Jays belting, ‘Family Reunion’ made Saint smile as he journeyed down a South Bronx memory lane during the brief reprieve. Buildings spray-painted with his friends’ names, police sirens and sweet, hot summer days rolled around in the recesses of his mind. He could almost hear his tiny, child feet pounding the pavement with worn black and white sneakers and two scorching quarters burning a hole in his pocket—the coins he’d begged his mother for to get ice-cream with Raphael and their click of young hoodlums in training.

  He took a sip of his wine; the sweet and delicate flavor coated his pallet as he swallowed, relishing the fruity flavor.

  “Shit.” Lawrence lay back in the seat, a huge grin on his face. “I’m going to be a father…wow, man. This is the best night of my life.”

  Saint and Jagger joined him in his excitement.

  “There’s nothing like it, Lawrence. Your life will never be the same…in a good way, that is.”

  Lawrence nodded. “I’m looking forward to it. It’s different when you are trying, you know? I had pretty much accepted that it wasn’t going to happen without some medical intervention of some sort. What a beautiful surprise…”

  The three men nodded, dancing around words left unsaid.

  “I plan to speak to her again, Saint. Now that we have a baby coming, it puts things even more in perspective. I want her to see me as her husband, not her child. She’s scared and she’s insecure. I promise you that I’ve never cheated on my wife or done anything to make her feel that way.”

  “Baggage.” Jagger cleared his throat. “She’s got baggage, like what Saint was talking about at the Queendom conference.”

  “It’s not just women…” Saint shot Jagger a look, one laced with warning.

  “I know that.” Jagger grimaced. “I’m not jumping on her, just stating what you’d said.”

  “I know, but my point is, you should understand all the be
tter because you can identify with that woman’s struggle. Didn’t you protect your brothers? Didn’t you step in and play daddy because your father wouldn’t? Didn’t your bad marriage cause you to rear back from love, until you accepted that you wanted to be in love again, and all that entailed? The shit will eat up a person alive. People who are afraid put up walls. People who are afraid try to act tough, are judgmental and act like Donna. And also like you behaved, Jagger, when you first arrived here in town.”

  Jagger nodded in agreement.

  “Donna is afraid of losing Lawrence for some reason, or she wouldn’t be behaving like this. She has to be in control, just like he said. If not, she feels vulnerable, maybe even useless.”

  Everyone was quiet again for a while. Saint narrowed his eyes.

  “She admitted she didn’t like me.” He chuckled.

  “I know. She tells me practically every week she doesn’t like you.” Lawrence grinned, taking another small sip of his wine. “I don’t think that’s it though. I think, because Donna has somewhat feminist views, she sees you like an anti-feminist. She believes that if she embraces you and likes you, it will negate what she stands for.”

  “Hmmm, interesting.” Saint took another sip from his glass. “Women who despise me, or claim to, in my observation, do have feminist leanings yet they feel they can be empowered only if the man is de-powered or dethroned, castrated in some way.”

  Lawrence twisted his lips in disbelief.

  “I’m serious. They don’t say have to say it; their actions demonstrate it. The first thing they want to do is tell me how they don’t need me and guys like me.” Saint laughed. “Good. It wouldn’t be a match made in heaven. What ticks me off about this ideology is that some of these women who hold tight to these beliefs, want all the good shit that comes with being a feminist, but not the stuff that doesn’t feel good. Like wanting to be treated as an equal, but still wanting someone to open the door for them, or to stay at home if they choose while the man works and all that other bullshit. No, if you want to act like you have a goddamn cock,” he laughed mirthlessly, “then by all means, get your ass up and do some construction job, get sweaty and funky and then come home and eat the dinner your husband cooked and fix the broken down jalopy in the garage. Then turn your feminist ass around and kill the spiders ’nd shit around the house. They fall into the stereotypes I mentioned. They fall right in, because to them, being a man is better, so that is what they aspire to. They hate their damned ovaries, but want guys like me to grovel at their feet because they have the sons of bitches… Doesn’t work like that, man.”