by Carl Weber
Nurse Sexy must have sensed the tension in the room or something, because she removed the baby’s cap to reveal a head full of tight, dark curls—all the confirmation we needed of the baby’s black parentage.
I had to suppress a sigh of relief. London sure had dodged a bullet, and we could all rest easy now knowing our niece was not carrying any Dash blood. “Ain’t no denying this one, Harris,” I said gladly.
Harris straightened his spine, and a huge smile took over his face. “Can I hold her?” he asked.
London handed him the baby. He glanced at my sister then looked down at his newborn daughter, kissing her for the very first time. “Your father’s right, honey. You did good.” Finally the tension had left his voice as he leaned over and kissed his wife.
“So what’s her name anyway? I mean, I got a new niece and I don’t even know her name.”
“Well, we already have a Mariah, so we thought we’d name her Maria,” London replied.
“Maria and Mariah—I like that,” my father said.
The nurse ran down a quick checklist of things with my sister before she left the baby with her and Harris. I couldn’t take my eyes off her sexy ass as she left the room, and she must have known I was looking at her, because she put a little extra swing in her hips as she sashayed by me. She even stopped at the door, turned around, and when she was sure everyone else was busy fawning over the baby, she winked at me. I made a mental note to get her number before I left the building.
Harris, Pop, and I took turns holding little Maria before her cries of hunger made us give her to London, who was planning to breast-feed the baby. I used that as my excuse to leave the room, saying I was going to check up on Paris and the rest of the family. I also planned on hitting up that fine-ass nurse for her digits, but they didn’t need to know that.
Halfway down the corridor I bumped into my mother, who was standing in front of a vending machine, searching through her purse.
“Hey, Mom. Paris didn’t have the baby yet, did she?”
“No, she’s got a little ways to go, but Rio’s in there with her now. She wanted me to get her a soda.” She riffled through her purse for a quick second and then turned to me and asked, “Junior, you don’t happen to have a dollar, do you?”
“Sure, Mom.” I reached into my pocket then handed her two singles.
“Thanks.” She turned toward the vending machine and slid a dollar in. “I assume from your smile that my son-in-law hasn’t tried to kill my daughter.”
“You would be assuming right,” I said with a laugh. “There’s no doubt it’s his baby. I think we can rest easy.”
My mother turned her head upward and closed her eyes briefly as she proclaimed, “Thank you, Jesus! Praise the Lord.” There was a visible difference in my mother’s body, in the way she stood and the sudden relaxation in her shoulders, like the stress left her in that instant. London’s affair—and especially her irresponsibility when it came to birth control—had irked my mother for months. She’d been bottling it up, carrying the tension in her body. She held her tongue in what I assumed was an effort to keep the peace between Harris and London. Some days I actually felt bad for Paris, because my mother never held her tongue when it came to Paris’s pregnancy. Paris probably bore the brunt of my mother’s stress, even though she was the cause of only half of it.
“I swear you kids are going to be the death of me,” my mother said.
I put a hand on her shoulder and tried to massage away any remaining tension for her. “No we’re not. We’re going to make you proud, Mom.”
“You already have, Junior. I’m just a little paranoid is all.” She patted my hand and said, “So tell me about my new granddaughter. Is she healthy?”
“Yeah, from what I could see she’s very healthy. They named her Maria. Eight pounds three ounces. You should go down there and see her. I’ll take the soda to Paris.”
“I’ll get down there in a minute.” She pushed the button on the vending machine, turning back to me as the soda came clanking down to the opening. “Right now, Junior, I need a favor. A big favor.”
My mother wasn’t the type to ask anyone for a favor, so I knew whatever she wanted had to be serious.
“Sure, Mom. You know I’d do anything for you.”
I reached down and picked up the soda, handing it to her just as the sexy chocolate nurse passed by. She smiled, waving her fingers delicately at me as she walked down the corridor. I wanted to run after her and tell her to hold up so I could holla at her for a minute, but that thought was quickly squashed when I looked down and saw my mother frowning at me. She did not tolerate nonsense when it came to discussing family business.
“Sorry. She’s London’s nurse. We met in her room. I was just saying hi.” I tried to wipe the nurse out of my mind and concentrate on my mother, but it wasn’t easy.
“Mm-hmm,” she said doubtfully, like she knew exactly what was really on my mind. “I just need a few minutes of your time. This is important.”
“Whatever you need. You got it,” I said.
“I hope you feel that way when we finish talking.” She pointed at a door marked VISITOR WAITING ROOM and I followed her in. The room was empty, and we sat down with one chair between us.
“Before I start,” she said, “I want you to know that I don’t feel good about even asking you this. I just feel it’s necessary. Otherwise it’s going to be too late and things will get out of hand.” Now she really had me concerned. She wasn’t usually this dramatic when we had discussions. “Trust me, I wouldn’t be doing it if I didn’t think it was important to our family.”
“Ma, stop playing around and tell me what you’re talking about,” I said.
There was a genuine sadness as she said, “I want you to vote against us distributing Orlando’s new drug. I also want you to help me talk your brother and sisters into voting against it as well.”
I sat back in my chair, unsure of how to respond. Truth is I was blown away. My mother had never asked much of me, and when she did, it was never for her benefit. It was always for our family’s benefit. I couldn’t understand her position on this one.
“You do realize you’re asking me to go up against my brother and probably even Pop, too, don’t you? This could cause a real shit storm in our family during a time when we’ve already got enough pressure from the outside.”
She stood her ground. “I’m quite aware of that.”
“What if I was planning on voting for H.E.A.T. with Orlando? I mean, we are talking about a lot of money, Mom. Money that could buy our family a lot of power, influence, and respect.”
“Or death and destruction,” she replied, finally offering me some insight into her point of view. It wasn’t about the money for her; she was worried about her children. “I’m asking you for a favor, Junior. I never said it was going to be something simple or easy. Now, the question is, can you help me or not?”
LC
7
“Pop-Pop, the babies are here! The babies are here!” my five-year-old granddaughter Mariah screamed as she came skipping into my home office. She stopped herself abruptly, scampering to my side when she realized I was not alone. “Who is that, Pop-Pop?” She pointed at my visitor.
“Why don’t you ask him and find out?” I suggested.
“Who are you?” she asked from the safety of my arms.
He leaned forward in his chair to get down to her eye level and said, “I’m your cousin Trent.”
Mariah shook her head stubbornly. “Uh-uh. You’re not my cousin. You’re too old.”
Trent threw his head back and laughed. “Yes, I am. Your mommy is London, isn’t she?”
“Yes,” Mariah replied, twisting in my arms.
“Well, I’m your mommy’s first cousin, which makes me your second cousin. You understand?”
She looked up in the air as if she was considering his explanation. After a brief pause she said, “Yes,” then bolted out of the room.
I heard a car door slam an
d turned to the window to see Paris, London, and Harris getting out of the limo with my new grandbabies. Chippy, of course, was standing there to greet them. I had wanted to greet them at the door myself, but my meeting with Trent had gone longer than I expected.
“Once again, I’m sorry we had to meet here instead of the office, Trent.” I handed him an envelope consisting of a signing bonus check for five thousand dollars, a key to a company car, and a W-2. Trent had done work for me in the past as a salesman, but now he was coming aboard as a full-fledged executive of Duncan Motors. It was my hope and belief that with his particular skill set, he would rise up the ranks quickly and become Orlando’s right hand man until my son Vegas returned home.
“No problem, Uncle LC,” he replied. “I understand you have a big day planned here and time is of the essence.”
I nodded my agreement. “Well, then I guess the only thing to say now is, welcome to the family business, Trent.”
“Thanks, Uncle LC,” he said, reaching out to shake my hand.
There was a tap on the door, and then Orlando stepped into the room with a grin on his face. He and Trent had always been close.
“Welcome to the family business, cuz,” Orlando said, congratulating his cousin with a quick hug. “It’s great to have you on board.”
“Thanks, O.” Trent looked to Orlando and then to me. “I won’t let either of you down. I promise.”
“We know,” Orlando and I replied in unison.
Orlando put a hand on Trent’s shoulder. “Hey, Trent, you mind giving me and Pop a minute to talk before we leave?”
“Sure. That will give me a chance to see these babies my cousins just had before we leave. I still can’t believe Paris had a baby.”
“Neither can we,” I said somberly.
He extended his hand once again. “Uncle LC, thanks again for the opportunity.”
I gripped his hand firmly and said, “It’s something I should have done a long time ago.”
After Trent walked out, Orlando shut the door and took the seat his cousin had just occupied.
“You sure you okay with him coming on board, son?” I asked. “I love your cousin, but you know his background.”
The fact of the matter was that Trent was a con man. With his good looks and slick charm, he specialized in bilking wealthy women out of their loot. Now, I know it might sound kind of funny, given the nature of my family’s business, that I would have an issue with Trent’s criminal tendencies. Trent’s problem was that he didn’t always know where to draw the line and fly beneath the radar. When he worked on our auto sales force, he seduced and conned a legitimate customer out of thousands. If we hadn’t forced him to make things right and pay her back, she could have filed a complaint and brought a lot of unwanted attention to our business. I could only hope that Trent had learned from that situation and we wouldn’t have any issues now that he was coming back on the team.
Apparently Orlando had faith in his cousin. “Trent’s good people, Pop,” he said. “He might have had some issues back in the day, but I talked to Wayne down in Georgia and he’s given him high marks across the board. You don’t have to worry about Trent. In a couple of months he’ll be running this joint.”
I laughed halfheartedly. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
“Well, don’t be. That guy will give his life up for us when the time comes.”
“I hope it doesn’t come down to that, son. Lord knows I hope it doesn’t come down to that.” I leaned back in my chair and lit a cigar. “You ready for your trip?”
A momentary look of concern passed over his face, but disappeared just as quickly. “As ready as I’m gonna be,” he said. “I mean, this isn’t about me as much as it’s about H.E.A.T.”
“A meeting like this, I should be there with you, Orlando. You don’t know these people. I do. Things could get rough.”
He frowned at my suggestion, explaining, “No, Pop. People need to understand that Orlando Duncan is in charge. I’ll never gain respect if I’m always in your shadow. If you go with me, it’ll just prove to Mom and the rest of the family that I’m weak. I’m not weak, Pop, and I need to prove it to them.”
My concern for his safety was real, but I was proud of my son for his resolve. I had made the decision to appoint him as CEO, so I had to support his efforts to step up now. “Okay, I understand,” I said, “but at least take Junior or Paris with you.”
“No can do, Pop. You said yourself that Paris is out of commission for at least a few months, and we need Junior and Harris to handle that other situation.” He stood up, his body language communicating his determination. “Don’t worry, Pop. I can take care of myself. I’ve got my security detail, and I got Trent backing me up. That man can talk his way out of just about anything.”
I gave him a skeptical eye. “I still don’t like it.”
“Neither do I, but these are the cards we were dealt. Listen, I need to get outta here. I got a plane to catch. I’ll give you a call when we land.”
I stood and embraced him. “Be safe, son.”
“I will.”
I sat back down in my chair and watched him leave. A few minutes later Chippy walked into my office like a blast of winter air. The sour look on her face was nothing new. She’d been giving me the cold shoulder ever since the board meeting.
“London and Paris are home with the babies,” she said, leaning against the doorway.
“Mariah already told me. I was just going to head there to see them.”
I smiled at her, but she nodded without softening her expression. “We’re having roast beef for dinner. That okay with you?” she asked.
“Sure, that’s fine.” She turned around, looking like she was about to leave. I said, “So, are you talking to me now?”
She stood there for a full three seconds with her back to me. I’m sure she wanted to be mad, but Chippy and I could never be angry with each other but so long.
Instead of answering my question, she turned around slowly and said, “My son just kissed me good-bye with a suitcase in his hand, but he wouldn’t tell me where he was going. I wanna know where you’re sending him.”
“He’s the president and CEO of our company. Who says I’m sending him anywhere?”
“Don’t play games with me, LC. I’m not one of your children,” she snapped. I cringed as I watched her beautiful face screw up into a vicious scowl. All these years we’d been married and I still couldn’t stand it when my wife was mad at me.
She continued to berate me, no doubt enjoying how uncomfortable I was. “We both know Orlando wouldn’t be getting on a plane without talking to you first. And another thing: What the hell is Trent doing here?”
“I just hired him as Orlando’s assistant and body man.”
“Trent? Trent’s no body man; he’s a con man.” She lifted her hands and began rubbing her temples. “If you were looking for a body man, why didn’t you call Daryl Graham? You know he’s the best in the business.”
“I would have, but I found out that Daryl was killed six months ago, and Orlando needs looking after right now.”
She dropped her hands to her sides and stared at me in disbelief. “What do you mean Daryl was killed? Does Vegas know? Jesus Christ, is the entire world falling apart?” Daryl Graham was Vegas’s best friend. I hadn’t had the heart to tell him about Daryl’s death.
“Chippy, everything is fine. I feel bad about Daryl, but there is nothing we can do about.”
“Why does my son need a body man, LC?” She folded her arms over her chest and asked accusingly, “This has something to do with H.E.A.T., doesn’t it?”
I stubbed out my cigar in the ashtray and stood up from my desk. It was time to take control of this argument. “Yes, it does,” I said.
“What the hell is wrong with you, LC? You’re going to get my son killed.” Tears welled up in her eyes, but I refused to react to them.
“Nothing,” I said, standing my ground. “I’m the same man I’ve always been. It�
�s you that’s changed with all this high and mighty bullshit. Since when did you become so hypocritical—or did you forget who brought me into the illegal side of our business?”
She glared at me, probably pissed off that I would even bring up our start in the drug game. Chippy and I had come a long way since we started in the business, and sometimes I think she liked to imagine that she’d always been this classy woman with the mansion and all the money. She seemed to want to forget where we came from. Most times I was okay with that—I even found it kind of endearing—but right now I needed her to be realistic. In order to stay on top, danger was just something we had to accept as part of the equation.
“We don’t need this drug,” she pleaded. “We have plenty of money, probably more than us or the children can ever spend. When is enough enough?”
“When I say it is, Charlotte.” I moved around my desk and stood in the middle of the room. “So just understand this: We are going through with manufacturing H.E.A.T. with or without your blessing.”
“You can’t do that. The board hasn’t voted yet,” she said angrily.
“As president, it’s within Orlando’s power to go forward without a vote until our next board of directors meeting, as long as there hasn’t been a formal objection in writing to force a vote.”
She stormed over to my desk and retrieved some stationery and a pen, scribbling something quickly before she shoved the paper in my face. “Here’s your formal fucking objection. I want an emergency vote tonight.”
“We can’t have a vote tonight. Orlando isn’t going to be here. Besides, only the chairman and the president can call for an emergency board meeting, and I’m not calling one. I don’t think he’s calling one either. You’re going to have to wait until our monthly meeting next month.”
“This is some bullshit and you know it.”
“Hey, don’t get mad at me. You wrote the bylaws, didn’t you?”
“I wrote them thirty years ago when you and I were chairman and CEO,” she said, stamping her foot in frustration. I had to stifle a laugh. Chippy was a like a scrappy little terrier that won’t let go of a bone, even when a huge Doberman keeps knocking her away.