“You might as well answer it,” Bo said, after noting how Darius tried to keep his nonchalant expression. Emphasis on tried. “You know you want to.”
“How do you figure? I told you at the beginning of the week. This is our time. Business can wait.”
“Oh, you’re still trying to sell me that fairy tale that Paz’s calls to you are all about that movie project? Do you have some ocean-front property in Nogales that you want to sell me too?” The words were harsh, softened only by the kiss Bo placed near Darius’s neck as he pinched his butt.
“Ha, ha. If you ever decide to get out of management you might check into becoming a comedian.”
“No, thank you. One of us on stage is enough in this family.” Bo placed the remaining salad into the refrigerator and reached for the sliced strawberries marinating in a sugary juice. “You want dessert now?”
Darius slowly turned around, his brown eyes twinkling as he licked his lips. “I’m sure you did your Aunt Gladean proud, baby, so I’d love some of that strawberry shortcake you made from scratch.” He walked over to Bo, and gave his face an affectionate caress. “I’d love it even more in the bedroom. And don’t forget the whipped cream.”
Bo preened like a peacock in full heat. “You’re such a bad boy. It’s why I love you.”
“I think I’m going to take a quick shower. See you in a few?”
“You got it, lover.”
In the master suite, just inside the bathroom, Darius talked on the home’s cordless phone. “I told you, P. I’ve been spending time with Bo. Quality time, with no distractions.” A pause while he obviously listened to what Paz had to say. “That’s just it. I didn’t talk to anybody! We went to a day spa; I didn’t even have my telephone.”
Bo rounded the corner to the bedroom, immediately aware that instead of water running it was Darius’s voice that he heard.
“It’s not something I take lightly, believe me. I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind.”
And then something else, said very lowly, at almost a whisper. Bo would have done a cat burglar proud, so quiet was he as he placed the sweet-laden tray on the cedar bench at the foot of the bed before tiptoeing over to the wall that separated him from his betrayer. His movements were especially noteworthy, considering they happened with his heart on the floor.
Darius’s voice took on a pleading quality. “Don’t do that. Listen to me, baby. I didn’t take what happened lightly. Please believe that. This isn’t easy. You knew from the start that I was married.” Bo’s heartbeat escalated to . . . oh . . . about fifteen-hundred beats per minute, way beyond what should have caused a heart attack. All of the doubts and fears that had gathered in the past couple months returned full force, accompanied by pain. A picture of their spontaneous Canadian wedding flashed before him as he continued to listen, those magical nights when they relished the feel of freshly fallen snow, exchanged uniquely designed wedding rings, drank pricey champagne before a crackling fire, and made love in every room of the luxuriously appointed suite. This muthafucka told me he was taking a shower. Didn’t know that meant showering Mr. Holly-weird with bullshit. In his mind Bo was strong and secure, using his ready sarcasm to mask the emotional shifting happening as a result of his worst fears being verbally confirmed. But in reality, Bo felt as though he’d been punched in the gut by Mike Tyson, Evander Holyfield, and an in-his-prime Muhammad Ali . . . all at once.
Suddenly, Darius felt uneasy. “Look,” he whispered, “I’ve got to go.”
Silence as Bo imagined Paz pleading for Darius to ... what? Meet him somewhere? Leave the marriage? And just what had happened that Darius did not take lightly? Bo didn’t know, but he planned to find out. In the seconds it took for Darius to end the call, Bo’s hurt had turned to anger. He stood ramrod straight, arms crossed, face set in stone that rivaled the boys on Mount Rushmore.
“Look, I said I would, all right? Just stop calling me.” Darius ended the call and turned with a huff. “Oh, hey, baby.”
“Hey, baby, hell! I heard you, muthafucka!”
“It was nothing.”
“So why was nothing being discussed in the bathroom?” Bo’s voice escalated along with his blood pressure. “All on the down low and shit!”
“This is why—because I knew you’d get upset!” Darius’s volume increased as well.
Probably not the best move as evidenced by the split second it took Bo to get within microinches of his face. “Which do you think would make me more upset, Dee? You talking to that asshole or you doing it behind my back? You’re fucking him!”
“I told you I’m not,” Darius retorted, figuring that technically this was true. He took a step back.
“You’re lying!” Bo took a step forward.
“Bo, calm down!” Steps back.
“Calm down? You want me to calm down?” Steps forward. “I walk in here all ready to make love to my husband, only to find him on the phone with his lover? And I’m supposed to calm the hell down? Or beat you the hell up? Which one sounds more appropriate right about now?”
The clenched fists at Bo’s side signaled that he was more inclined to do the latter.
Darius’s back was against the wall, in more ways than one. He took a deep breath, silently cursing himself for giving in to his desire to hear Paz’s voice. “Baby, can we just talk about this?”
After a tension-filled moment, Bo stepped back and again crossed his arms over a slightly heaving chest. “Okay, talk. I’m listening.”
“I needed to talk to him about the project.”
“Bullshit.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Paz is acting in the movie; you’re writing the score. What does one have to do with the other?”
Darius walked over to the toilet, put down the lid and sat down. “You’re not going to like it.”
“Just tell me!”
“We’re collaborating.” He forced himself to meet Bo’s incredulous gaze. “It was an executive decision. I guess Paz gave them a CD of his work; some poems he’d written and set to music. They like his voice.” He shrugged. “Thought it would be good PR for us to work on the title track for the sound track.”
Bo stormed out of the bathroom.
“Bo, wait!” Darius followed him into the bedroom. “Bo, please . . .” He reached out to grab Bo’s arm.
“Don’t touch me!” His look was one of pure disdain. “There’s no telling where your hands have been.”
“C’mon, Bo . . . it’s not even like that. I was going to tell you.”
“When? When the song came on the damn radio?”
Darius laughed. Bo scowled. Darius raised his hands in surrender. “Okay, I’m sorry.” He sat on the bed. “Will you sit down? Please.” Instead of sitting on the bed next to Darius, Bo perched on the bench at the end of it. He sat sideways, not looking at Darius but straight ahead, placing Darius in his peripheral vision. “I’ll admit that I flirt around with Paz.” Bo snorted. “I probably shouldn’t do it. Guess you could say I’m a bit starstruck.” Silence. “You don’t have anything to worry about, Bo.”
“But I do worry.” Bo’s voice was soft, tenuous. “People are always throwing themselves at you. Men, women, hell, even the neighbor’s dog has fallen in love.” He looked at Darius now, his eyes bright with unshed tears. “This is the first time that you’ve flirted back.”
“Oh, baby.” Darius moved to the end of the bed and wrapped his arms around Bo. This time there was no resistance. “I love you.”
“Me too, Dee.” Sniff. “You’re my world.”
“And you’re mine.” They sat silently a moment, Bo feeling Darius’s breath on the side of his face, Darius feeling Bo’s heartbeat return to normal. “Our fifth anniversary is coming up.”
“I know.”
“Might be nice to spend it in Canada.”
Bo smiled. “At the Fairmont Le Manoir Richelieu?”
“That’s one of my favorite places.”
“Why?”
Dar
ius kissed Bo’s temple. “You know why.”
Darius kissed Bo again, moving from his temple to his cheek and when he’d coaxed Bo into facing him, his mouth. Soon clothes were removed and strawberries and cream were spread on the places that Bo had envisioned. The lovemaking was awesome, as always. Darius was extra-attentive and in a rare move was on the receiving end of love’s penetration. They went to sleep wrapped in each other’s arms. And as they did so, Bo’s last thought was on making sure that he was always wrapped in Darius’s arms . . . where he belonged.
34
The Million-Dollar Question
“ Hey, brother!” At the sound of her big brother’s voice, Stacy’s heart soared.
“Hey, lil’ sis. It’s about time you answered your phone. We were getting ready to put out an APB!”
“I’m sorry, Brent. I have been missing in action.”
“What’s going on with you?”
That was the million-dollar question, and the reason why Stacy hadn’t called the brother who’d practically raised her. He could read her like a national best seller and her latest life chapters weren’t ones she wanted him to peruse. From the time their father died, when Stacy was only ten years old, Brent, who was the oldest of her four brothers, became the undisputed head of household. He’d teased her mercilessly, shooed her away when his friends came over, and basically lorded over her as though he were God. In turn, Stacy adored him.
When Stacy turned sixteen and began dating, Brent was worse than the LAPD. He insisted on meeting all of her boyfriends and she didn’t know what he said to them after his standard, “let me hollah at you for a minute,” but she’d never been treated with anything less than the utmost respect from these dates. After his marriage and the birth of his first child, Brent wasn’t as hands-on as before. By then, however, Stacy had come into adulthood and after growing up with four rambunctious brothers, was more than able to hold her own.
Stacy didn’t introduce Brent to her first husband, Darius, until after they were married. But that’s not why Brent never liked him. According to him it was because Darius never fully looked him in the eye. “Don’t trust that dude,” had been Brent’s first, middle, and last impression.
Tony was different. Brent had liked him right away. Along with a love for sports they shared a love for business and golf. In fact, all the brothers liked Tony. When it came to the Gray family, he’d fit right in. Which is why the ups and downs Tony and Stacy had recently experienced were all the more troubling, and made it all the more necessary to keep her brother out of the messy marital loop.
“What’s been going on with me?” Stacy repeated in a playful manner. “Well, brother, you’ll be happy to know that involves my looking for real estate in Calabasas.”
“Seriously, Stacy? Y’all are moving back to Cali?”
“That’s the plan. As we speak, Tony is working out for the Sea Lions.”
“Well, that’s just great. I know how much you’ve wanted to move back here.”
“You know it. There are parts of Arizona that are simply stunning, but California will always be home.”
“Your niece and nephew will be glad to hear that you’ll be living closer.”
“Ah, how are my little bedbugs?”
“Growing like weeds. How is DJ?”
“Five going on fifteen. He fancies himself having a girlfriend.”
“My man! Sounds like I need to school my nephew on a thing or two.”
“He’ll be delighted. Nothing thrills him better than a visit with his favorite uncle.”
“Don’t let our brothers hear that.”
“Naw, we’ll just keep it between us.” A beep sounded in Stacy’s ear. She looked at the caller ID. “Brent, hold on a minute.” She clicked over. “Hey, Little Bo Peep.”
“Stacy, are you busy?”
“No,” Stacy replied, noting that once again her usual moniker, Spacey, was noticeably absent. “Just talking to my brother. You okay?”
“No, but I will be. I’m going to make sure of that. Can I come over?”
“Sure.”
“Good, I’ll see you in fifteen.”
Stacy shifted back over to her brother and after agreeing to give him a heads-up regarding her LA visit, and to try and get him four tickets to the first game, she ended the call and made DJ’s lunch. In a rare move, she bypassed the dining room table and let her son eat his chicken nuggets and fries while watching his favorite cartoon. Darius would definitely have something to say about it if he knew that the TV was serving as babysitter, but what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. Stacy got the feeling that whatever it was that Bo had to tell her, she’d need to have her wits about her.
Just moments after getting DJ settled, her doorbell rang. That he pulled out a large bottle of cognac shortly after their hug was her first indicator that this was not going to be an ordinary visit. She had a flashback to the first time she saw Bo totally imbibe—in a cozily warm cabin in Big Bear where a recently exposed secret of a three-way love affair had caused quite a chill.
“Where’s DJ?” he shouted, barely inside the door.
“Uncle Bo!” DJ ran into the room and gave Bo a high-five. “Where’s Daddy?”
“Working, little man. When are you going to your job?”
“Uncle Bo,” DJ laughed, “I don’t work.”
“With the amount of food you eat, you should.”
“Speaking of which,” Stacy interrupted, “are you finished with your lunch?” DJ shook his head. “Then go back into there and finish eating.”
“Uncle Bo, can we play videos later?”
“We’ll see, DJ. Right now, I need to talk to your mama.”
DJ walked back into the game room, and after retrieving a glass and ice for Bo’s afternoon drink, Stacy joined him in the living room. Once they were alone, she wasted no time assuaging her curiosity. “Okay, Bo Peep. What has you chugging liquor in the middle of the day?”
Bo fixed her with a look. “I’ll give you three guesses and the first two don’t count.”
Stacy didn’t have to guess. There was only one thing, or more accurately one person, who could put Bo Jenkins Crenshaw in this kind of mood. “What’s going on with you and Dee?”
Bo tossed back the cognac and refilled his glass. “I think I’m going to lose him.”
“Trust me, when it comes to losing Darius I know what that feels like.” Bo smiled at the inference of the time when he and Stacy battled for Darius’s love. “And it doesn’t feel like what I see between y’all.”
“Yeah, well, that’s because you haven’t seen the crowd in our bedroom.”
“Excuse me?”
“Darius is in denial, but he’s in love with Paz the Ass.”
“He’s still tripping on that actor?”
“Yes.”
“How do you know?”
Bo gave her a look. “Trust me, I do.” His normally jovial countenance turned sad. “I think Darius is in lust with him,” he whispered, followed by a generous gulp of Courvoisier.
“Maybe, but I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”
“For real, Stacy? You really believe that?”
“When it comes to knowing how much Darius loves you, trust me, I know. I’m the one he left so he could be with you, remember ?”
“As crazy as your ass was, how can I forget?”
“Me? If anybody was crazy it was Darius. How’d he think he was going to get away with taking both of us on vacation—at the same time?”
“Ha! That Big Bear situation was a mess with a capitol M.”
“Him thinking he could go between cabins, giving me a kiss and you a hug.”
“He thought you wouldn’t notice him tipping out in the middle of the night.”
“That’s because he never bothered to find out whether or not I was a light sleeper. I knew as soon as he left the bed, heard him trying to slip into sweats and tennis shoes and ease the keys off the table. Felt the whoosh of cold air when the door op
ened and the click when it closed.”
“And then you came storming over to my cabin yelling like a banshee.” Bo’s humor had returned and he now laughed at the memory.
“I was on what was supposed to be a romantic getaway with my fiancé. Oh, and I was pregnant. Forgive me for being just a little upset.”
“A little? Girl, you came at me like Joseline did Stevie. You wanted to beat. My. Ass.”
“I’ll admit it. I wanted to clear a path of snow with your narrow behind.”
“Ha!” Bo poured another glass of liquor and motioned to Stacy.
She held up her soda. “No, thank you, I’m good. DJ,” she yelled so that he could hear from the other room, “are you finished eating?”
“Yes. I’m watching TV!”
“Okay.”
“You’re lucky to have DJ,” Bo said, his mood once again swinging from happy to sad.
“He’s a good kid,” Stacy admitted.
“Not only that, but Darius loves him. And because you have his son, he’ll always be a part of your life.”
“Yes, I guess that’s one way to look at it.”
“Those are the times I feel most complete—when DJ is over and we’re sharing family time. Me cooking, him and Dee in the other room watching TV or playing a game. Then later when we’re watching some crazy Disney movie and later, when DJ falls asleep in between us on the couch. Those are the times that Darius is settled and calm; I know that it makes him feel complete too.”
“There’s nothing that says family like a child in the home.”
“I feel that way exactly,” Bo said, placing down his glass and turning to Stacy with a serious look. “Which is why I have to ask you something, and why I want you to hear me out before you throw me out.”
“With the crazy way your mind thinks, Bo, I can’t make any promises.”
“I’ll just have to take my chances then. See, I’ve thought of a plan that can alleviate both our fears—yours about financial security and mine about marital security.” He took a deep breath and continued. “If I talked Darius into paying you a million dollars . . . would you have a baby for me? One that Darius and I can raise as our own?”
The Eleventh Commandment Page 17