The Prada Plan 5

by Ashley Antoinette

  Indie entered with a sleeping Skylar on his shoulder. “Come here,” he said as he led her to a countertop. Piles of paperwork were spread out over it.

  “I don’t know what you want to turn this into, but it’s yours to do whatever with. Up here I have information about suppliers for high-end clothing, I have information about opening a salon, starting a foundation, it’s some shit up here about getting a real estate license, and even an application to the community college. Or you can scrap all of those ideas and make this into something else. It’s whatever you want to do. I want you to know I support you and I’m here for you,” Indie said.

  Tears clouded YaYa’s eyes. This man truly loved her. It was in his actions. He had heard her, and despite the fact that she had no clue what direction she wanted to go in, he gave her options. He believed in her enough to give her the foundation to start. Indie was encouraging her to follow her dreams. YaYa didn’t quite know what she would do yet, but she was confident that her vision would become clearer as she ventured down the road of self-discovery.

  “How much did this cost you? Can we afford this?” she asked. YaYa knew they had money, but this type of real estate was normally out of the scope of something a hustler could obtain.

  “We can afford it. Don’t worry about the price. You’re worth every dollar,” Indie said. “I just want you to be happy.” She kissed him, deeply, and their connection caused butterflies to flutter in her stomach.

  The doors opened, and a woman walked in. “I hope I’m not interrupting. I take it she likes the surprise?”

  Indie pulled back and smiled. “She does,” he replied. “YaYa, this is Christina Blight, the realtor that helped me find this place. Christina, this is my wife, Disaya.”

  “It’s very nice to meet you,” the woman said. “I just have a few signature pages for you to sign, Disaya, and I will be out of your hair.”

  Indie’s phone rang, and he looked down to see Parker’s name on his screen. He sent her to voicemail. Now wasn’t the time. He had to focus on the woman in front of him. Today was about her. He had promised her his attention. She needed him. Parker always had a way of stealing moments that were reserved for his wife. Intentional or not, Parker had a way of threatening his relationship, and he had to figure out a way to deal with her without crossing the line.

  His phone chimed, and Indie sighed as he looked down to check his messages.

  Parker:

  King is missing. Please come to his school right away. I need you.

  Indie:

  Send me the address. On my way.

  Indie stopped breathing. He remembered this feeling. It was the same terror he felt when Skylar had been taken years ago. It was crippling. It was something only a parent could feel.

  “I’ve got to go,” Indie said, interrupting as YaYa stood signing the deed and closing the real estate deal.

  “What?” YaYa asked in confusion.

  “I’m sorry, ma. I’ve got to go. It’s important. Finish up here. I’ll be back to get you and Sky,” Indie said. Indie handed off Skylar to YaYa.

  “Indie?” she called after him, but he was out the door too quickly to respond.

  Indie raced through the city streets and picked up the phone, dialing Parker back. When she didn’t answer, he feared the worst. His mind spun as he tried to think of who could have taken King. The Dominicans in Spanish Harlem crossed his mind first. They didn’t know about his son, however. If anyone wanted to touch his family they would target YaYa, not Parker. Indie was clueless to the fact that it was King who had caused this chaos. This wasn’t the type of problem that was street related. Bullets wouldn’t solve this dilemma.

  He parked his car directly in front of the school building and jumped out. There were officers everywhere, taking statements from the teachers and parents at the school. When he set his sights on Parker, emotion filled him. She was broken. He could see it from the expression on her face. It was a mother’s worst nightmare. Her gaze fell upon him, and she raced toward him, hugging him so tightly that their hearts raced in unison.

  “They can’t find him, Indie,” Parker cried. “They have no idea where he is.”

  Emotion burned him. He hadn’t even had a chance to love his son the right way yet. This couldn’t be reality. Everything was fucked up. Indie couldn’t help but feel guilt.

  “We’re going to find him,” Indie said. “Everything is going to be fine.” Indie didn’t believe the words himself, but he had to say them. He had to hold on to something because right now it felt like he was dying. It felt like he would never see King again, and deep inside he knew that it was his fault.

  * * *

  “Oh my Lord,” Elaine whispered as she pulled up to her home. “Bill, is that—?”

  “Indie’s son,” her husband responded. “Question is, how did he get here?”

  Elaine got out of the car and approached her grandson. “King? What are you doing here? Where is your mom?”

  “I came looking for my dad,” King said. “My mama wouldn’t bring me so I came myself.”

  “What do you mean you came yourself? She doesn’t know you’re here?” Elaine asked.

  King shook his head.

  “She must be worried to death,” Elaine said. Bill walked up with a bag of groceries in his hands.

  “You running away?” Bill asked.

  “Not running away. I just want to talk to my dad. He hasn’t been around, and I just want to know why.”

  Elaine looked at Bill. She felt nothing but sympathy for King. “Come on, baby. You can help me get dinner on. I’ll call your mom and let her know where you are.”

  They ushered King inside the house, and Elaine leaned over to Bill. “Call Indie. This baby came all the way here looking for his daddy. He’s going to see him before Parker comes to get him.”

  Elaine and King went into the kitchen, where she pointed him toward the sink. “Wash your hands and take a seat.” She placed a cutting board and a knife in front of him. “Peel these potatoes.” She moved around the kitchen with the efficiency that only a housewife could. “I know we just became a part of your life, but I want you to know that we love you very much, King,” Elaine said as she began to prepare dinner. “It’s been a lot of changes. That must be overwhelming for you.”

  “I just want someone to be like. I can be like my mama. She’s smart and I do look up to her, but she just don’t know some stuff. All my friends have their dads, and it’s just me. I try to protect my ma and be the king of the house. She said that’s why she named me that, but I’m only nine and when I get scared I can’t tell her. I need to tell somebody. I just really want to know more about my dad. I didn’t get to spend time with him when I was little. So I just want to make sure I can be around him now. Is he mad at me, Grandma?” King asked.

  Elaine frowned. His question broke her heart. “Noooo, King. No. Your father could never be mad at you.”

  “Why don’t he come check up on me anymore?” King asked.

  Elaine’s lip quivered slightly because she could hear King’s desperation. Elaine didn’t know how Indie had weaved a web so intricately complicated. “He has been busy lately, but he is going to do better. I promise, baby.”

  * * *

  Indie had no idea how much he loved his son until this very day. As soon as he walked into his mother’s home, relief filled him. The knot that had formed in his gut dissipated as he watched Parker rush over to King.

  “Don’t you ever do this again!” she scolded. She didn’t know if she wanted to be angry or rejoice. “Do you hear me?” She was crying as she hugged him tightly and kissed the top of his head. “What were you thinking, King?”

  “I just wanted to see my dad,” King said as he looked Indie straight in the eyes. Indie was filled with remorse. None of this was King’s fault. He was just a kid caught in the middle of adult drama, and he was suffering the most from it. It’s my job to keep this from him, Indie thought. He don’t deserve none of this.

  “Co
me here, King,” Indie said as he sat at the kitchen table. King sat across from Indie. Everything about this little boy was reminiscent of Indie, from his crooked smile to his lanky frame. Looking at King was like looking at his former self. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around the past few weeks, but I’m here now and I’m not going anywhere. I will always be here for you. You don’t ever have to come looking for me again. That’s my word,” Indie said.

  “I thought you didn’t want me,” King responded honestly.

  “I will never not want you. You can’t do this again, though, son. You can’t disappear on your moms. You had a lot of people worried about you. I’m going to get you a cell phone so you can call me whenever you need me. Is that cool?” Indie asked.

  “Yeah, that’s cool,” King replied. Indie chuckled. His son tried to keep his cool, but the beaming smile on his face gave away his excitement.

  Elaine walked into the room, and Indie nodded his head toward the door. “Why don’t you go and talk to your mother. I’m sure she has some things she wants to say to you,” Indie instructed. King got out of his chair and was halfway out of the room before he turned around and raced back to Indie, wrapping his arms around Indie’s waist. Indie hugged his son. It was an uncomfortable moment because he barely knew King. Indie had been absent for so long, only to be introduced to the idea of having a son, then disappear again. Indie promised himself that he would never do that again. Even if the paternity test had come back negative, Indie should have never pulled the rug from under King. In a cold world that misunderstood the intentions of black men, King needed a father. He needed consistency, and it was Indie’s job to deliver that. He hugged his son, long and hard. It was the type of affection he never received from his father. Bill Perkins had taught him that a man shouldn’t cry, that men didn’t hug, that feelings were to be hidden. To be vulnerable was to be feminine. Indie would teach King differently, beginning on this day with this hug. “I love you, King.”

  “I love you too.”

  King raced out of the room, and Indie turned to his mother.

  “Go home and talk to YaYa,” Elaine said.

  “I will,” Indie replied. “At this point, I don’t have a choice.”

  “Excuse me. I don’t mean to interrupt,” Parker said as she and King peeked around the corner. “Thank you, Elaine. I’m going to get King home now.”

  “Can my dad come?” King asked.

  Elaine looked at Indie. He was caught off guard, and an awkward silence filled the air. “Umm, baby boy, it’s late. Maybe he can come by tomorrow,” Parker said.

  “No, tonight. I just want to kick it with him for a little bit,” King replied. “Can he come? Please?”

  Parker was at a loss for words. She opened her mouth to respond but came up short until finally Indie answered, “Yeah, homie, I’m there.”

  “Can I ride with you?” King asked.

  Indie took out his keys and tossed them to his son. “I’ll do you one better, you can drive.”

  Parker quickly took the keys from King’s hand. “Uh uh.” She pointed at Indie. “You’re a bad influence already, Daddy,” she joked.

  He winked at King and placed a hand on his head. He kissed Elaine’s cheek. “Is this a good idea?” she whispered in concern.

  “No, but I can’t say no,” he whispered back.

  Indie walked out of the house with his son and Parker. He would have to get used to catering to this woman and this child because they too were his family. It wasn’t the one he chose, and he had no idea how it would blend with the one he already had. He couldn’t help but feel like he was sacrificing one for the other.

  In the car Indie heard the phone ring through the speakers of his Bluetooth. It was YaYa. He silenced the call. He wasn’t blind to the fact that he was making choices. In this moment he was putting the well-being of his son over his wife’s need for him, but it was necessary. He would deal with the fallout later; right now King had his undivided attention.

  “I know I haven’t been around the way I should be. I want you to tell me how you feel about that. You can always talk to me. Good or bad, you can tell me the truth, and right now I want to know how you feel.” He paused and cleared his throat. He wasn’t sure if he was ready for the candidness of a child. “About me,” Indie concluded.

  “I love you, Dad,” King responded simply. His response took Indie by surprise.

  “That’s it?” Indie asked with a chuckle.

  “Yeah,” King answered. “I mean, I used to be jealous of my friends because they had their dads, but you’re here now. That’s all that matters, right? You can help me with my form. I’m kind of weak on the court.”

  Indie laughed, this time from the gut. “I can do that,” he answered. He was amazed at King’s ability to forgive. King bore no grudge, and Indie was immensely grateful for that.

  Indie followed Parker to her home. His conscience ate away at him the entire time. He had no idea how he would balance his loyalty between Parker and YaYa. Each woman had one of his seeds. To whom did he owe the most? As he parked his car and escorted King and Parker inside, a pang of shame plagued him. He was trying to rebuild one house by taking away the foundation from another. He couldn’t lead two lives, but as he sat down on Parker’s couch, he knew that this was the beginning of the deception that would break his wife’s heart.

  “Punishment, two weeks,” Parker said as she pointed at King sternly. “Now go take a shower and get in bed. You have school in the morning.”

  King sulked away, and Parker had to check her anger briefly. This night could have ended very differently. She saw news stories daily of children that had gone missing, never to be seen alive again. “Come give your mama a hug,” she said. When King reached her, she hugged him tightly. “Don’t do that to me ever again.”

  “I won’t,” King answered with his head bowed empathetically.

  Indie watched the exchange, and it made him emotional. It was clear that Parker loved King to her core. He couldn’t ask for a better mother to raise his son.

  “Now go to bed,” Parker said.

  “Good night, man,” Indie interjected.

  “Good night, Dad,” King replied.

  When King’s room door closed, Parker turned to Indie. “Wine?”

  “You got anything stronger?” Indie countered. It had been a long day, a torturously emotional day, and as he watched Parker pour a glass of scotch, he sighed deeply.

  “I’ve missed so much with him,” Indie said as she handed him the brown liquor and flopped down beside him.

  “It’s not too late to make things right,” Parker replied. “He needs you. He’s a young black boy. I can’t raise him to be a man. I can’t explain to him why there are some people in the world that will fear him just because of the color of his skin. I don’t know how it feels to be a black man, but you do. You can help him figure out his place in this world and the contribution he wants to make to it. I would have never come back if I thought you weren’t an excellent example for him.”

  Indie sipped from the glass and stared her in the eyes. “You fucked everything up, P. The thing with you and Nanzi. You should have never told me that.”

  “I was young and dumb, Indie. Your brother was—”

  “Let’s not even speak about the dead. He’s not here to tell his side,” Indie interrupted. “Finding that out about you.” Indie paused and took a sip of his drink. “About you and him.” He shook his head as if he couldn’t even speak of it.

  Parker lowered her eyes in embarrassment. “You’re never going to forgive me for that, are you?”

  “It was a long time ago for you, but it’s a fresh wound for me,” Indie said. The liquor warmed him. It loosened him. Parker took the bottle and refilled his glass.

  “I know,” she responded. “I just want you to know that none of the rest of it was a lie. Everything I’ve ever felt for you was real.”

  Indie didn’t respond. He threw back the entire drink in one swig.

&nbs
p; “Do you remember when you used to come to the motel I worked at and we would sneak off into one of the rooms, and I would make you stay there during my entire shift and study?”

  “Yeah,” Indie said with a smirk. “I remember doing a whole lot more than studying in those rooms.”

  “You lie! I was a lady back then!” Parker denied with a laugh.

  “That’s your story, huh?”

  “Damn right and I’m sticking to it,” she replied. “You sure have a way of corrupting the good girls with your bad-influence ass.” She gave him a wink, and Indie shook his head.

  “If I remember correctly, you enjoyed it,” he said.

  Memory Lane was so easy to stroll down. Parker and Indie had shared so many pivotal moments coming up together. Before they had evolved and their childhood had been stripped away with responsibility, they had experienced puppy love.

  “I did,” she answered truthfully as she nodded in agreement. “I don’t know why I was so crazy over your peanut-head ass. You had that ugly-ass, lopsided high-top fade and that raggedy old school car. I missed my senior prom messing around with you and that car. We broke down in the middle of the street.”

  “I made it up to you, didn’t I? We didn’t need that musty-ass high school gym and cheesy decorations. We danced on the roof of that car with the radio blaring as loud as it would go,” Indie recalled. “That was the day I knew…”

  “You knew what?” Parker asked.

  “That I would make you my wife,” he finished.

  Parker lowered her head. Sadness and a bit of anger filled her. “Only, you didn’t.” When she looked back at him, there was melancholy in her eyes, and Indie stood and approached her. He invaded her space despite the fact that his mind was telling him to call it a night. Her despondence beguiled him into staying. He hated to see her cry. He hated to see her hurt, and as much as he wished he didn’t care, it simply wasn’t true. He cared more than he could ever admit aloud.

  “Stop crying,” he whispered as he stood directly in front of her, looming over her, but he inspected her tears. She wiped them away with the back of her hand, but they were only replaced with fresh ones.