On the front page of the local edition of the Laderian News was a photo of her husband’s face, and not a very flattering one at that. The article read as follows:
Mason Wilson Selling His Home
and Selling Out 90056 or 90210
by Soledad Thompson
Successful professional golfer, Mason Wilson, could be putting up more than a for-sale sign for his home. He might be putting up a for-sale sign for his soul, African-American soul, that is. Our sources indicate that recently, Mason Wilson has been spotted accompanied by a top-notch realtor in the Palm Beach Gardens area of Florida, eyeing a twenty-thousand-square-foot golf-course mansion with a private lake, nine-hole golf course and waterfall-like swimming pool.
Some say his seven-figure bank account can accommodate much more than what Ladera has to offer, and that knowledge is becoming more and more tempting, along with speculation that the support of African-American fans is waning after his decision not to hire an African-American performer to sing to his wife on their wedding anniversary recently, live, smack dab in the middle of the golf course while on tour in Mexico.
Mason Wilson has lived in Ladera Heights for a quarter century. Due to recent upgrades and additions, Mr. Wilson’s seven-thousand-square-foot home is valued at 1.8 million, almost twice the price of most homes in the community. His brother Claude Wilson of Wilson Realty is both the selling and listing agent.
Several African-American stars called Ladera Heights home and then moved on when they outgrew their surroundings. But sources say that the move for Mason Wilson would be more for a change in image to surroundings with more of an upscale, less African-American feel. And in turn the move would allow him to cross over and appear… “less black.”
Mr. Wilson could not be reached for comment. He was traveling back from a successful tournament out of the country. He is expected to resume his tour at the end of the month.
“Who are they quoting when they say, ‘less black’?;” Mercedes ranted. She called him from the cordless phone. “Mason, where are you?”
“We’re driving up Slauson now, from the 405. I’m so tired. It was an exhausting flight. I’ll be there in five minutes.”
“Okay,” Mercedes said dryly. She clicked the off button and began looking out of the window, anticipating his arrival. Kailua sat at her feet waiting for his forgotten treat. Mercedes shooed him away toward the kitchen.
Mason’s limousine made the right turn onto Bedford Avenue, and for the first time, he looked at the sprawling white house in a different light. It was almost as though the home itself was part of his problems in the first place. Part of his problems with his wife, with his kids, and with the fact that he was finally starting to grow weary of his career. It was also a reminder of Fatima’s grisly death.
Mason’s driver pulled up to his house, noticing the bold red and black Wilson Realty sign on his front lawn. His brother’s face, name, and number were prominent, in big bold print.
“You’re selling your home, huh?” the driver asked, looking at his famous passenger from the rear-view mirror.
“Yes, it’s time to move on,” Mason said, almost in a trance. The damaged sycamore tree from Star’s little wreck stood tall on the strip of grass along the curb.
Mercedes opened the front door before he could find his key ring. She was full of questions. “What’s this crap in the Laderian about you being a sellout? That you’re talking about making yourself more visible to the white community?”
Mason stepped inside and gave her a hug. “Oh, that mess was actually printed already?”
She embraced him tightly. “Yes, on the front page of the newspaper. I know none of this is true, baby. You weren’t looking at homes in Florida, were you?”
“Of course not. This agent approached me and then told his dumb-ass story to someone. Now I know the ‘N’ word I heard was not my imagination. It was a setup.”
Mercedes’s voice rose in pitch. “Someone really called you that?”
“Coincidence, huh?”
“Mason, I’m so sorry. How can people be so cruel?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “Your guess is as good as mine.”
“What are you going to do?” she inquired, helping him take off his jacket.
“To react would mean to give in and stoop to his level just by trying to explain.”
“Baby, if you live amongst your people, you at least owe it to them. I know you don’t want people to have any doubts about you, especially when they see that for-sale sign outside on our lawn.”
Mason asked, “What would be so bad if they did? Most athletes move the hell out and they’re still on top.”
“Yes, but they’re already out. You’re still in the game. Talk to your agent and see what he says, honey.” She hung up his jacket in the hall closet. “I was wondering why he called three times between yesterday and this morning.”
“I will.”
“Baby, you’ve come too far for this type of bullshit.” Mercedes encouraged, “Don’t sit back and let them do this. Speak up.”
Mason placed a call on his cell before he and Mercedes lay down. It was a call to his sports agent.
“Yes, go ahead and book Sports Illustrated and Golf magazine, but schedule a BET interview, Jet and local radio in Los Angeles as soon as possible. Thanks.”
As they lay down fully dressed, Mercedes gave him a big hug. She placed her cheek on his back and held him tight.
“Cedes, I thought you were sick of the way you’ve been treated here in Ladera anyway.”
“Mason, I was just talking off of the top of my head. I don’t want to leave.”
“You don’t?”
She confirmed her answer for him. “No. The kids are in school and they’re doing fine. What about you?”
“I don’t know.” He thought again, shifting his focus, feeling more relaxed. “Hey, I got your note, baby, thank you. It was right on time. I appreciate it.” He turned around to face her, lying on his back as he kissed her forehead.
Mercedes kissed him on the lips, placing her forefinger under his stubble-ridden chin. “For better or for worse, Mason.”
“Cedes, there’s something else you need to know.”
“What?”
Mason leaned up to face her more closely. “I need to come clean on a secret that I’ve been keeping from everyone except my brothers. Even you.”
She squinted her eyes. “What, Mason?”
“Cicely is Dad’s daughter.”
“Cicely is what?” Mercedes put her hand on Mason’s chest to back him away. She sat up.
“He had a long affair right after I was born. His lover had the baby but I didn’t find out until my pre-teen years. Dad told me and swore me to secrecy. I didn’t tell Claude and Torino until Dad died, and I didn’t tell Cicely that I knew until a few years ago.”
“Mason.”
Mason scooted back and sat up, too. “I feel so bad about not telling you until now.”
“Cicely is my sister-in-law?”
“Yes.”
“And all this time I was insecure about your relationship with hot boyz her. How could you watch me be so nervous about her and not tell me?”
“I’m sorry. The longer I waited to tell you, the more difficult it was to come clean.”
“Mason, we never kept anything from each other. What happened to us?”
“I don’t know. Revealing it made me feel like I was betraying my father.”
Mercedes reflected back. “No wonder Mamma was so angry about her. Does she know?”
“Yes.”
“Mason, your dad fooled around, too. How are you going to break that cycle?” Mercedes stood up and paced a trail to Mason’s side of the bed. “You could very easily be just like him. How could he keep that going on for so long?”
“Apparently, she wasn’t the only one from what Mom says.”
“And here I was thinking your dad was so devoted and so into your mom. What happens now with Cicely? Can’t she,
I don’t know, maybe get to know us better?”
“I’d like to leave it just as it is. She’s moving on to Atlanta to run the club there anyway. I’ve tried to take care of her as best I can, but I just can’t get past Dad’s wishes. And Mom wants no part of her.”
Mercedes sat next to her husband. “Cicely’s leaving? Mason, I can’t believe how many discoveries are coming about in this family. It’s time to come clean about everything, right now. Anything else I need to know?”
“No, Cedes. Nothing.” He rubbed his temple.
“I guess this is called the ‘worse’ times. Don’t give me another reason to have to forgive you, Mason. We need to continue to still see Dr. Little. These secrets just can’t continue.”
“I don’t want there to be a reason to lose you.”
“You haven’t. Thanks for telling me now as opposed to never telling me at all.” Mercedes leaned over to hug him. He held her tight. “I hope you can live with your decision.”
“I’ll just have to. At least as long as Mom is on this earth.”
“I’m Ed Gordon. Tonight, BET comes to you live from our studios in Burbank, California, with Mason Wilson, who overall is the sixth highest tour and money winner in PGA history. His wins cover every aspect of the golf world, with the exception of the Masters. Lately, a story broke that Mason Wilson decided to leave his roots behind, so to speak, and step out into the larger world of non-minority millionaires, bigger sponsors, and more diverse surroundings. Tell us about this, Mr. Wilson. First of all, welcome.”
“Thanks, Ed.”
“We’ve heard a lot of stories lately about you having been called the ‘N’ word while on tour and that it’s been affecting your game and your life. Can you tell us about that, and whether or not that did indeed happen?”
“Yes it did. I’ve been hearing all of this nonsense and felt I owed it to my fans and those who support the game of golf to clear things up. While I don’t feel compelled to answer to anyone except myself, I also believe that it is incumbent upon me to set the record straight on many topics that might be misconstrued out there.”
Mason continued, “I’m living a dream come true. There have been overwhelming obstacles along the way, but now it’s becoming personal and the ‘N’ word is definitely personal to me. And first of all, let me get this out now before anyone else does. I am a recovering alcoholic and always will be. I hit rock bottom years ago but I fought to overcome the addiction and I’m winning. So again I repeat the word, recovering. It’s a lifelong process that I possibly inherited. And I’m not ashamed of that.”
“Wow, you are laying it all out there tonight, Mr. Wilson. I don’t believe we’d ever heard any buzz about that. If you don’t mind, when was the last time you had a drink?”
“It’s going on thirteen years. I gave it up because it was either the bottle or my family, and I chose my family. I remain devoted to my family and to where I grew up in Ladera Heights. See, I was born in Houston, Texas, but moved to Los Angeles in the seventies. Los Angeles has been my home for more than twenty-five years. We still own our parents’ condominium in Fox Hills. I own property all over the country, Ed, but I choose to live in my neighborhood, amongst my people so that my kids can experience the richness and greatness I experienced when I was their age. My parents moved me here for an opportunity at a better life. How can I, in turn, move my kids away from the better life to a life that is what? Acceptable by the elitists who try to dictate who we should be? I refuse to make the very money that individuals spend on the game of golf, Tideist advertising, programming, et cetera, and put it into communities that don’t need it. Ladera needs certain businesses and upgrades. Why not put my money into the youth that I’ve lived amongst? I’m not trying to impress anyone.”
“You’re to be commended for that. That’s been a prevalent concern in our communities when those who make it to the top sell out. But tell me, where did this story come from?”
“From a poor excuse of an agent who propositioned me and got turned down flat. His plan didn’t work. I’m not budging.”
“How about exposing him so that this won’t happen to anyone else?”
“This man used just the right words and just the right bit of information to raise a ruckus and everyone jumped on it. It’s unfortunate that people love misery and scandal. But the truth is, he didn’t do anything illegal.”
“How about the fact that he slandered you.”
“I’m after his job more than anything. I do plan on having my attorneys schedule a meeting with the owners of his company.”
“Good for you. Tell me, is it true that you’re fourth on the money list this year?
“Yes, it is.”
“Mason, let me just ask you this question. First of all, it is reported that as young as Tiger is, he made Fortune’s 40 Richest Men Under 40 list. Can you tell us how close you are to making that list?”
“Ed, I’m surprised at you.”
“Hey, you’ve got to ask, you know?”
“First off, I’m approaching forty so time is running out as far as making that list. But Tiger is with Nike and he has an endorsement contract with them so that plays into his totals. I’m with Sean John and I’m totally happy with the contract I have as well. But, it’s not about the money, Ed. I’m here to talk about the recent misunderstandings and I’m prepared to put it in the hands of the Lord. God’s will is too powerful for the rumors and assumptions people are making. It carries no weight unless we give it power.”
“And how about the speculation that you plan to abandon Sean Jean as far as wearing their fit exclusively? I know you’re happy with them but could there be room for other endorsements? Also, they say you missed P. Diddy’s fashion show last month.”
“That’s because I was working. Sean John has been good to me. They have a quality product and I’ve enjoyed introducing his line to the golf world. I say if it’s not broken, don’t fix it. So it stays the same as it’s been, Sean John and Titleist.”
“And I’ve heard that you and your wife are going through some sort of problems.”
Mason’s look was firm and strong. “That’s between me and my wife.”
“I hear you.” Ed Gordon looked down at his note card. “So what’s next on your schedule?”
“I’m not sure yet. I just might retire soon, since it sounds like that’s what everyone thinks I’m ready to do anyway,” Mason laughed.
“Oh, certainly not. I say stay in the game but know when to leave.”
“I agree. That’s the whole ‘leave while you’re on top’ theory. I’ll tell you my game is not suffering. But, who knows, I just might write a book on my life called Shadow on the Green, Ed. I’ve accomplished so much in the game of golf and missed so much time with my family, my kids, wife and elderly mother who my family, brothers and I have been caring for. I’m not sure. But I’ll keep you posted.”
“Well, you heard it here first, ladies and gentlemen. Mason Wilson could leave the game soon.”
“And don’t jump on that either. I said maybe. Don’t hold me to that.”
“We won’t. But we will hold you to coming back here when you’re sure about your future. Deal?”
“Deal. Thanks, Ed.”
“Thank you, Mason Wilson. Join us next time on BET Tonight. I’m Ed Gordon. Have a good evening.”
Mercedes was waiting for Mason when he arrived home. It was almost two in the morning. He walked into the dimly lit bedroom to find her wide awake, under the covers.
“You did a great job, Mason.”
“Thanks, Cedes.”
“Mason?” asked Mercedes. Her curly hair was flowing along the pale yellow pillowcase.
“Yes?” he said, stepping out of his pants and underwear, tossing them onto the settee.
“Come to bed. Now.” Mercedes threw the covers back and exposed her totally nude, curvy body, awaiting upon the satin sheets. Without hesitation, he crawled in and lay down next to her. She pulled the covers up over them both and h
ugged Mason as he climbed on top, mounting his wife with an enormous erection. She parted her legs to accept him. Slow and steady, he eased himself inside of her, sliding in and out to her moistness, as his breathing deepened and their hearts beat in tune. She whimpered and shuddered as he entered her soul, while he felt her throbbing walls envelop him. She held him tight, inside and out. Their words remained hushed as she kissed his lips and closed her eyes, while feeling him all through her from head to toe. Their lips danced the entire time, as they spread their arms to each side and grasped each other’s hands, interlocking fingers and squeezing tight to the groove of their syncopated bodies. Their rhythms were in synch.
That night, Mason and Mercedes enjoyed a night of lovemaking and expressing their love for each other without a word being said.
Mercedes found herself pulsating intensely, contracting into her peak, while Mason felt her rumble coming on, giving him permission to join her. He released his love and she accepted, unconditionally. They lay there for the night. Mercedes was amazed that her mind did not race. The only people in her bed and in her mind were her and Mason. She let out a deep breath and fell asleep, underneath her husband.
Chapter 22
The Sunday before Thanksgiving, Claude and Cameron rode along the streets of Ladera. This time Cameron was driving the car that was soon to be his.
Cameron seemed to be in a good mood. “Dad, I made the basketball team. Varsity.”
“Congratulations, son. Is that what you want? To play basketball?”
“Yes. I’ve just got skills, I guess.”
“Okay, so I guess you do.” Claude chuckled for a split second. He then decided now was as good a time as any to have a one-on-one about a more serious topic. “Son, are you okay with not knowing who your real dad is?”
“Yes. Why do you ask that?”
“It’s just that I can’t imagine what it must be like for you to not know.”
“I do know, Dad. You’re my real father.”
Claude looked over and smiled. “Wow, that makes me feel real good, son.”
“Well, it’s true. You adopted me when Mom died. You’ve been my parent.” Cameron made a lane change.
Hot Boyz Page 30