by Carl Weber
“Ruby, that’s not—”
She cut me off again. “Sure it is, but it’s okay. I did what I had to do to get my brother bailed out of jail. And I’d do it again if I had to. I guess in a way I should be grateful for how generous you were. I thought I’d have to sleep with many more men to make his bail. Goodbye, Orlando.”
I pleaded, “No, Ruby, please don’t hang up! I love you and I need to know about the baby.”
“My son is healthy and almost a month old now,” she said as blandly as if she were reporting the day’s weather conditions instead of talking about our child.
I, on the other hand, wanted to jump through the roof. “You mean I have a son? Oh my God, I have a son?”
Ruby was quick to burst my bubble. “No, Orlando, I have a son.”
I refused to acknowledge her jab at me as I pressed for more information about my boy. “What’s his name? What’s he look like?”
“His name is Vincent. He’s named after the man I am going to marry. The man who is going to raise him,” she said, still with that dead voice.
“What? No! I will not let that man raise my son. I will kill him with my bare hands first.”
“He is not your son. He’s my son, and that man was there throughout my pregnancy. Where were you? You seem to know where I was. Why didn’t you come for me? If you love me so much and being a father is so important, then why didn’t you come to Philadelphia to get us? Why, Orlando?”
That felt like a punch to the gut. She had no idea how badly I’d wanted to go down there and get her ever since Junior told me where she was. The problem came with the other information he’d gathered: Ruby’s brother was part of a Jamaican mob that was providing protection to Vinnie Dash in the wake of a war between the Dashes and us. Me going down there would have alerted them to the fact that we knew their location, and the things my father and Junior were working on depended on the element of surprise. So, I was told that I would have to wait—which I’d been doing very impatiently. Now that I’d heard her voice and knew I had a son, though, I didn’t think I could wait any longer.
“Well, I’m coming to get you now. Pack up your stuff and get the baby ready. I’ll be there in two hours.” I was already on my way to the elevators as I spoke, hoping I didn’t run into Junior on the way out. If he knew what I was up to, he’d veto that shit with a quickness; probably try to take my car keys. The last thing I wanted to do was fight with his big ass.
As it turned out, Junior wasn’t the only obstacle. Ruby stopped me with her words. “No, that would not be wise,” she said. “If you come I won’t be there, and my brother’s men have orders to shoot you on sight. I suggest you and your family stay out of Philadelphia if you know what’s good for you. Your presence has not gone unnoticed.”
I was about to ask, “What’s that supposed to mean?” but she’d already ended the call.
“No!” I nearly collapsed, pressing myself against the wall to stay upright. My head dropped into my hands.
“O, you okay, man?” It was Rio, with a concerned frown on his face.
“Yeah, I’m okay. Got a lot on my mind. I’m not having the best of days.”
“I can tell. What was that about? That phone call looked intense.”
I wasn’t sure how much he had heard, so my first thought was to lie to him. Then I took another look at his expression and realized he was genuinely concerned. Unlike the other men in my family, Rio had a gentle side under all his flamboyant attitude. Unfortunately, my affair with Ruby was tangled up in the family business, but if anyone could set aside business for a minute to talk to me, it would be Rio.
“Um, believe it or not that was my baby momma.”
“Ruby!” Not only did he looked surprised, but he said her name like a four letter word. Maybe I’d misjudged his sensitive side. “What’d that heifer want?”
“Don’t know. Think she called just to fuck with me. Told me that she had the baby, a little boy, and that I can never see him.”
“Wow, I’m happy and sad for you at the same time.” He reached out and put a hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry, O. I wish things were different.”
“So do I, but that’s not the half of it. She’s also getting married to—” I couldn’t finish. It felt like I was choking on Vinnie Dash’s name.
“Married to who?”
“Vinnie Dash, of all fucking people in the world.”
Rio’s eyes flew open. “She’s really with Dash? I thought that was a joke. Like the shit about her being a hooker.”
“No, it wasn’t a joke, and now Vinnie’s going to raise my fucking kid. I’m gonna fucking kill that prick.” I pushed myself off the wall and took a step toward the elevator.
Rio grabbed my arm to stop me. “Listen, man, I’m gonna say this once and only once. Leave it alone. I know you got a lot wrapped up in this, but you’re too close. Let Junior and Pop handle this situation. You go down there and get killed and we’re all fucked. This is a time for brains, not brawn.”
I had to laugh. My little brother—the one we all thought would never amount to anything more than a hard-partying club promoter—was lecturing me, and he was making sense. Ever since his near death excursion to L.A. he had a certain wisdom about him. I just wish my heart had ears so it could hear him.
“Easy for you to say, man, but my son’s involved in this.”
“He might be your son, but don’t forget he’s my nephew too. When the time comes I’ll be right with you, gun in hand, but that time is not now.”
I nodded, knowing Rio was right, though I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to let it go. I wouldn’t rest until my son was in my arms and Ruby and I had a chance to sit down and talk.
“Well, it better be soon, Rio, because if anything happens to my son, nobody’s going to be able to stop the hell I’ll bring.”
Ruby
5
“Who was you talkin’ to?” my brother Randy demanded in his thick Jamaican accent. I had just hung up the phone with Orlando and was reentering the house Randy had rented for us in the Poconos.
“Huh?” I was trying to gather my thoughts and assess the situation. I could tell by his tone that Randy might have suspected it was Orlando I’d been speaking with, so I tried to keep my distance. I loved Randy and I knew he loved me too, but he had a quick, unpredictable temper and a tendency to give me an unnecessary slap in front of his friends to prove one of his misguided points.
“What are you, deaf now? I said, who was you out there talkin’ to?” He sat up abruptly, forcing Natasha, the high yellow whore he’d been fucking lately to raise her head from his lap. The bitch had the nerve to suck her teeth, but Randy evil-eyed her into submission before turning his attention back to me.
“I was talking to Orlando,” I replied weakly.
“I thought I told you not to contact him!” Randy’s voice was trembling with anger as his dreadlocks flew back and forth across his face.
I lifted my hand and spoke softly in an attempt to calm my brother down. “I was just trying to defuse the situation. Orlando isn’t going to be a problem. I know how to control him. I’ve been doing it since day one, haven’t I?”
Ever since I left New York with Randy and Vinnie, I’d been hearing almost daily lectures about the Duncans—Orlando in particular. Randy couldn’t stand that I’d gotten pregnant by him. His hatred for the Duncans ran deep, so the idea that his own nephew had Duncan blood in his veins was a constant source of anger for him. Believe it or not, it was part of the reason I’d agreed to marry Vinnie. Randy thought the marriage was a good idea, for the betterment of the family.
Randy had always had a great respect for Vinnie, mostly due to the fact that Vinnie was a member of the Italian mafia and they’d done plenty of business together over the years. Their working relationship became somewhat of a friendship after Vinnie came up with the rest of the bail money that I hadn’t managed to get. Randy felt he owed Vinnie, so when Vinnie ran into some problems in his own organization an
d needed a place to lay low for a while, Randy brought him on as a sort of “honorary Jamaican.”
Vinnie took a liking to me pretty soon after we all left New York, but he knew enough not to step to Randy’s sister like some simple piece of ass. He treated me with respect, taking me to dinner, even helping me through my pregnancy, and never once making a move on me. After a while, I started seeing him as more than just my brother’s associate.
As soon as Randy noticed the growing friendship between me and Vinnie, he sat me down and explained things the way he saw them. He could accept his nephew, he said, but warned me that if I ever tried to go back to Orlando, he would disown me. Then he went on to tell me all the ways that a relationship between me and Vinnie could benefit the family. Although he was having issues with his organization, Vinnie still had plenty of connections on the street that, if we became one big family, could make us all very rich and powerful. Randy presented the idea of marriage as a win-win for everyone: not only would the family benefit, but I would not be raising my child alone.
So, Vinnie proposed to me, and I made my choice. I chose my family over Orlando. My relationship with Vinnie blossomed over time to become about true emotion, not business, and I could honestly say now that I was comfortable with my decision.
“What’d you say to him?” Randy asked. “You didn’t tell him where we are, did you?”
I could feel the eyes of each of his six friends upon me.
“No, of course not. What do you think I am, stupid? Besides, his dumb ass still thinks we’re in Philly. He’s probably on his way to the house right now. I told him I had his son.” I smiled, making sure everyone saw. A round of laughter broke out throughout the room.
Contrary to Orlando’s belief, my brother and Vinnie and I had left Philadelphia for the Pocono Mountains of Pennsylvania almost six weeks ago, when our people had spotted Junior Duncan spying on my brother’s house. Before then we had no idea the Duncans even knew where we were. Even though we were no longer there, I wasn’t lying when I told Orlando he’d be in for a world of hurt if he went anywhere near that house in Philly. There were almost thirty men, inside and out, waiting to ambush any Duncan that came within twenty feet.
“So, what did that blood clot have to say?” Randy asked in a much calmer voice.
“He wants me back. And he wants his son.”
“Well, he can’t have either of you,” Randy spat.
“I know that. And so does he now.” I sat down next to Vinnie, who was dressed, as always, in an expensive suit. He placed one arm around my neck, and in his other hand he held a goblet of brandy. He kissed me gently, and I kissed him back, slipping my tongue in his mouth.
“Did you tell him his son was named after Vinnie?” Randy let out an eerie laugh, and his dark, bloodshot eyes seemed to glow.
I didn’t laugh, but I nodded my head. “Yes, I told him.”
“What did he say to that?” Vinnie asked, taking a sip of his brandy. He appeared to be calm, but I was close enough to him to tell that he did not like the direction things were going.
“He said he was going to kill you, same way he killed your father and brother,” I replied.
Vinnie almost choked on his drink. I’d had no idea if Orlando had anything to do with the deaths of Vinnie’s father and brother, but I loved it when his Italian blood started to rise.
“I told you when you first suggested we name the kid after me that it wouldn’t be good to antagonize him. That we should just wipe them all out. Kill all those crazy-ass niggers before they come after us.”
All of a sudden, it was as if everyone was dancing and the record stopped. All eyes in the room turned toward Vinnie, including mine. Clearly, he knew that he had fucked up, because he turned to my brother with sheepish eyes.
“No offense, man, but you’re Jamaicans, not niggers. You told me that yourself.”
Randy’s abrupt laughter broke the tension. “None taken, mon. You’re right. We are Jamaican, and these so-called African Americans are lazy-ass motherfuckers. They even call each other niggers, so they have earned the title nigger.”
My brother was laughing as he stood up and took a large automatic handgun out of his waistband. His dark skin, six foot one inch frame, and long dreads carved an imposing figure, which was only heightened by the presence of the weapon.
“Now, Vinnie, let’s talk about you for a moment, shall we?” he said.
“Sure,” Vinnie replied, his eyes locked on the gun.
“You know I love you like a brother,” Randy told him. “You’ve made me more money than any man I have ever met, and I owe you my life for representing me and getting me outta jail before they executed that hit on me . . . but you are one punk-ass motherfucker when it comes to the Duncans.” Some of the men in the room laughed. “Why is that? Why are you scared of the Duncans?”
Vinnie removed his arm from around my shoulder and sat up, straightening his lapel. “I’m not scared of them, Randy, but I do respect them, and you should respect them too. They’re dangerous.”
“Respect them? Respect them for what?” He pointed the gun directly at Vinnie’s head. “They should respect me. I’m the dangerous one.”
Surprisingly, Vinnie stood up, positioning himself eye to eye with Randy. I guess he was used to my brother pointing a gun at him. They were both crazy like that and played with guns way too much, as far as I was concerned.
“Yes,” Vinnie said, “you are dangerous, but so was my father. I don’t have to remind you what LC and his pups did to him. They wiped out my entire family. I don’t want that to happen to you. You’re the only family I got left.”
Randy lowered the gun slowly, stared at Vinnie for a second as if deciding how to respond, and then pulled him in for a hug. He said, “I know, my brother, and we will get revenge for your father and your family.”
When they separated, Vinnie turned to me and smiled. “All I ask is that when Orlando Duncan goes down, it’s my finger that pulls the trigger.”
Randy turned to me with the same Cheshire cat grin as Vinnie—as if they were salt and pepper twins. “What do you think of that, Ruby? You don’t mind if Vinnie kills your baby daddy, do you?”
I stood, taking the gun from Randy’s hand and sliding a bullet into the chamber. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, big brother. That is, unless you’re willing to let me pull the trigger.”
Now we were all smiling, and the room erupted with laughter.
Junior
6
I followed Pop into London’s room, which was just a typical hospital room with two beds and two TVs separated by a privacy curtain. London was in the bed closest to the window; the other bed was empty. For security purposes, I would make sure that Paris was placed in the same room once she delivered her baby. My two sisters would probably end up killing each other, but at least one room would be a hell of a lot easier to defend than two. With all the drama my family had experienced over the past year, we had to be always on high alert against our enemies.
“So, where’s my new granddaughter?” I could hear the excitement in Pop’s voice as he leaned over and kissed London’s cheek. His eyes searched the room for my new baby niece, who was nowhere to be found.
“The nurses haven’t brought her down yet,” Harris replied. I could hear some agitation in his voice, but I was glad to see he was sitting calmly beside my sister, and not with his hands around her neck trying to choke the life out of her for cheating on him. That meant one of two things: either the baby looked like him, or he hadn’t seen her yet.
“Well, tell us about your daughter,” I asked, feeling out the situation.
London was the one to answer. “The nurse said they had to give her some tests, due to the complications of the C-section. I’m sure she’ll be down shortly.”
I studied London’s face, but she revealed nothing other than exhaustion from the delivery. Still, I couldn’t help but wonder if my sister had somehow orchestrated this whole delay so that someone from the f
amily would be in the room when Harris saw the baby for the first time.
Almost as if on cue, a nurse wheeled a small bassinet into the room.
I should have been watching Harris at this point, but I found myself paying more attention to the nurse than the bassinet she was pushing. She was thick, with a dark chocolate complexion and curves in all the right places. Her huge breasts jutted out from her chest like big, beautiful watermelons. God, did I love a big, sexy woman, and this one was extra thick. I think she noticed me looking, too, because she kept smiling and glancing my way as she tended to the baby.
It wasn’t until the nurse took the baby out of the bassinet and handed her to London that my attention fully returned to my niece. Pop and I watched nervously as the nurse helped London loosen the blanket from around our newest family member’s face. Harris didn’t even lift his head. He just sat where he was, frozen, like he was in some sort of trance.
“Oh my God, if she isn’t the most precious thing I’ve ever seen.” Pop was in his glory, talking baby talk and kissing his granddaughter’s little fingers the entire time. It was amazing; he was a totally different man when he was around his grandkids. Gone was the hard-nosed, no-nonsense businessman LC Duncan, and in his place was this big, gentle teddy bear of a grandpa. It was almost enough to make me sick.
“You did good, London. Real good,” Pop said happily to my sister before turning to my brother-in-law. “She looks just like you, Harris.”
Harris lifted an eyebrow. “She does?”
“Spitting image. Isn’t that right, Junior?”
Pops elbowed me lightly in the ribs. Obviously he was saying whatever was necessary to prevent a situation between London and Harris. To me, my niece looked like every other newborn, all shriveled up and flattened out from the trip through the birth canal. She looked more like an alien than like either one of her parents. The only resemblance I saw to Harris was that she seemed to have his light tan complexion.