by Kendra Riley
“I’m goin’ to watch the game.”
“Tell the boys the food will be ready in a couple of hours.” The door creaked open. “Love you.” She chuckled.
Slam.
###
Nariah stared down the runway until it disappeared into the horizon. Last time she was here was when she spazzed out at Russell. It was the day their relationship changed forever. She welcomed her changed feelings, the yellow lines mirroring the happiness she felt. Carson was going to meet his older brother and that meant the world to her. She rubbed Russell’s hand, keeping her gaze out of the window.
“What’s on your mind, love?”
“Just thinking about how far we’ve come since the last time we were here,” she answered. She hadn’t even noticed the huge jet sitting in her peripheral. Despite having ridden on it once, she still felt out of touch with the luxury.
The wind tussled her hair. Thunder in the distance worried her.
“We’re going in the other direction. No worries.”
She stared up at the graying sky, dark grey clouds swallowing innocent white ones alive. Carson seemed to notice the hostility in the weather as well. Becoming fidgety at the lightning flashing around, tears began to spill down his cheeks at the large crack of thunder that followed.
“Are you sure about this, Russell?” Nariah asked, unfastening Carson’s belts.
He turned her, pointing out a patch of blue that managed to dodge the growing chaos around it. “I wouldn’t put you or our son in danger. We’ll be fine.” Russell kissed her before handing their bags to the pilot. Five minutes later they were boarded and strapped in. Russell unstrapped himself, doing the same with Carson. “I want him to see the cockpit.” Carson’s eyes remained on her as he looked over his dad’s shoulder. A toothless smile was his response to the kiss Nariah’s blew.
The boys had just gotten back to their seats when the loud speaker crackled, the pilot’s friendly voice appearing afterward. “Alrighty folks, as I’m sure you can see, the weather is being a bit stubborn. If we leave now, we’ll only catch the tail end of the storm.”
Rain blasted on the windows. Wonder was in Carson’s eyes as he slapped at the streams of water flowing on the outside.
“If you’d like to wait, there will be a twenty-minute delay.”
“Can we please wait?” Nariah asked. “I’d feel more comfortable.”
“Sure baby.” Russell excused himself as he went to take the call ringing his phone. “It’s my brother.”
She appreciated the gesture, Russell showing that he learned from their previous conflict of him not being honest with her. Because he was a few feet away, she was still able to hear parts of the conversation, his facial expressions allowing her to guess at the rest. From the looks of it, he wasn’t happy.
Russell ended the call with a growl, shoving his phone into his pocket.
The hardness of his bicep told Nariah things must not have been going according to plan on the other side of the country.
“Dad’s not gonna be there.” Russell combed his fingers through his hair, his jaw clenched. “Piece of shit.” He apologized to Carson for the curse.
“What’s going on?”
“I’d rather not say.”
“Don’t do that,” Nariah insisted. “We promised to tell each other everything.”
“Just know he isn’t as open to new things as me.”
A powerful gust of wind blasted the rear of the plane inching it forward. There was no other way to interpret it than to consider it an omen of things to come. The decision to wait was justified as the downpour turned into a torrential rain, bits of hail mixing in. The pilot updated them on the new wait time and how much it would delay their flight.
Nariah had no luck in calming her bawling son down. Russell whispered something in his ear and played peek-a-boo with him, having more luck. She smiled as she listened to and watched him explain what was happening, Carson hanging onto his every word.
“We’re safe in here buddy. It’s just water and some loud noises. When you get older, we’ll go play in it.” He stuck a finger in a bottle and lightly splashed Carson, who clapped at the droplets. “See, you’re alright.” Russell smiled at Nariah.
“You’re so good with him.”
“Seth used to be scared of the thunder. I told him the angels were playing the drums in Heaven.”
After an hour, the sky had transitioned into a light gray, a light drizzle covering the windows.
“Alright everybody, we’ve been cleared for takeoff,” the pilot informed them. “We will arrive in California in just over five hours. Sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride.”
###
Nariah woke up to Carson’s small hands exploring her face. She nipped at his fingers, causing his eyes to bulge.
“Best alarm clock ever, huh?” Russell smiled.
“Mmm, it’s a tie, you’re a pretty good one too.” Carson broke up their kiss, pushing both of their faces away. “How was he? I’m sorry I fell asleep on you.”
“It’s okay, love. I had to change a few diapers, but I actually like doing that. Is that weird?” Russell laughed.
“Only if it wasn’t your son.”
Russell continued holding Carson as he led Nariah down the steps. As usual, a black car waited for them, this driver unknown. Russell introduced him as Leo, his father’s driver.
The mention of the Haines’ patriarch took Nariah back to the phone call and Russell’s explanation of it. She pushed her concern to the back of her mind, instead focusing on the perfect California weather. “I wouldn’t mind living out here.”
“If you’re serious we can go house shopping.”
She scoffed at the suggestion, though she knew he was serious. It wouldn’t be bad to have a vacation home to escape the brutal New York winter, she thought to herself. She laughed at herself, already falling under the lure of the billionaire lifestyle.
As they coursed through the dark wide, pothole-less streets, she had to continue closing her mouth as they passed mansion after mansion, which seemed to get bigger as they ascended the hill. She made good money as a personal trainer, but she deduced she wouldn’t have been able to afford the mortgage for even one of the smaller houses for half a month. “I should have brought some business cards.”
“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that,” Russell said.
“What about it?”
“Whoa, Ms. Independent, I haven’t forgotten that you’re a modern woman.” He reminded her about his plans to turn the basement of the building he bought into her fitness studio. “You don’t have to work.”
“I don’t consider what I do work,” she shot back.
“Of course, love. So I’m guessing you want to move forward with the renovations. Tell me what you need and I’ll get it for you; equipment, design, everything. And I’ll introduce you to some people that could help while we’re here.”
“Did I ever tell you how great you are, Russell Haines?”
He narrowed his eyes, his hand creeping between her thighs. “Only when—”
“Carson is watching,” she hissed, her grin belying her disapproval.
“I can wait until we get to Dad’s house.”
The Final Chapter
House was a massive understatement for the building they pulled up to. The estate sat on at least ten acres, the mansion 24,000 square feet. Russell fiddled with Carson, instructing Leo and the waitstaff on where to take their luggage. He held Nariah back, waiting until everyone disappeared to close the distance between them. “There’s something very important that I need to tell you.” Seriousness creased his brow, the feeling so intense, Carson stopped moving. “Everything I told you about my father is true.”
“Okkaayy.”
“But I didn’t tell you everything.”
The hairs on the back of Nariah’s neck raised. “Like what? Does he know I’m black?”
Russell dropped his head, smoothing the new stubble on his cheeks, which seem
ed to just have appeared. “Yeah but—”
“But what?”
“He doesn’t really approve of interracial dating. He’s not against it, but it’s not something he wants his sons to engage in.”
“What the fuck, Russell?” She dropped her voice. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“I didn’t think I’d ever bring you to meet him.”
Nariah walked around to the other side of the car, disappearing as she sat in the back seat. Her skin was hot with anger. Once again, he kept a secret from her. Taking deep breaths to calm herself, she remembered her and her mother’s talk. As she calmed, she was better able to consider his reasons for not telling her. She saw that she had done the same thing in prolonging the meeting between him and her family.
“I’m sorry, baby,” Russell apologized when she reemerged. “I didn’t mean to spring this up on you. Dad was trying to back out, that’s what the call was about.”
“We’re here now.” She checked her hair in her compact, smoothing it down.
“You look beautiful.”
“Thank you, but I’m trying not to look too black,” she spat.
Russell laughed off the remark. “Keep that up and he’ll love you.”
When they were halfway to the door, it swung open. A shorter, less tanned version of Russell came bounding out. “There’s the superstar.” He and Russell exchanged hugs, slapping each other hard on the back. “And you must be my soon to be sister-in-law.”
“If I am, no one told me.”
“Baby, Nariah, this is my little brother Morgan. He’s named after our mother.”
“Why is that the first thing you have to tell her? Why didn’t you tell her that I hold the record for making three pointers at our high school?”
“Because that doesn’t matter,” Russell answered.
“Did he tell you he was king of the pine?”
“He did. And I’m proud of him anyway.” Nariah chuckled.
“I can already tell she’s a keeper.”
“That’s my girl.” Russell passed Carson to Morgan, who tossed him in the air, their giggles mirroring one another’s. With an arm around Nariah’s waist, he led the way into the house.
The interior was vastly different than what Nariah had imagined, closer to the contemporary style of the Florida house than what the traditional exterior suggested. As she walked through the massive foyer she slipped her shoes off, placing them on the rack in the wardrobe. The first signs of life occurred as they entered the great room, a six-person kitchen staff hard at work. Morgan told them to make themselves comfortable as he went to retrieve the rest of the family.
“Your parents and brother live here by themselves?” Nariah asked.
“Technically yes, but they have dinner parties at least every other night, so they’re not without company.”
Nariah continued to observe her surroundings, feeling as she would dirty the couch just by sitting on it. For the first time in a long time, she became uncomfortable with her skin tone. For the most part, after Olivia convinced her, Russell being a different skin color shouldn’t stop her from loving him, she was colorblind. In fact, she had forgotten he was white at all. It didn’t help that the entire kitchen staff looked like her. She was able to dismiss her concern, betting their food was exceptional.
“You can sit down,” Russell said, bringing her a tray of fresh fruit. “It’s not rigged, I promise.” After they sat, he slid his arm across her shoulders. “You’re nervous.”
“That obvious?”
“I can feel you shaking.” He covered his mouth as he laughed.
“What’s funny?”
“I always thought you were indestructible.”
“Rock climbing and meeting parents are my weak points,” she admitted.
“You’ll be fine, babe. Daddy’s here.”
Nariah’s head snapped around when a scratchy voice repeated the words behind her. Russell looked just as perplexed as a well-dressed older man entered the room. He had Russell’s eyes and jawline, the rest of his features resembling Morgan’s, who was following close behind him, still enthralled by Carson.
“My oldest boy.”
“Uh, hey Dad.” Russell stepped into his father’s hug, eyeing Morgan in confusion. “You’re different, I mean, how are you?”
“Honestly son, I’ve acquired a new lease on life, but we’ll talk about that later. Tell me who this beautiful young lady is.”
“Dad, this is Nariah Alexander, Nariah, this is my dad, Scott Haines.”
“The pleasure is mine,” Scott assured, placing his lips on the back of her hand. “We have a little while until the others arrive. It also won’t be a while until dinner.” He instructed the chefs to prepare a light lunch. “I’m sure you must be famished.”
“We’re fine, Dad,” Russell insisted.
“Well, go show Nariah around the house, while I play with my grandson. Morgan, you should go with them.”
“Yes sir.” Morgan’s heels thumped on the light gray hand-scraped hardwood, leaving a clue to his path as he disappeared down a long hallway.
After the tour, they settled in the large game room, boasting three custom pool tables, several arcade games, air hockey, two 60-inch TVs, and a ten-person mahogany card table in the center. Russell graced Morgan and Nariah with a glass of wine before joining them on the couch. He punched Morgan in the shoulder. “Too close.”
“We were just talking. He’s nervous because I used to steal all the girls he liked.”
“Not this one,” Russell taunted, kissing Nariah’s cheek. After taking a sip from his glass he asked, “What’s wrong with Dad?”
“Straight to it, huh?”
“You know I don’t like to bullshit.”
“You want that short or long version?” Morgan asked. He nodded to Nariah, “How much does she know?”
“Enough, but just give me the need to know,” Russell answered.
Morgan downed his drink and refilled his glass, finishing that one in three huge gulps. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before patting his stomach. A large belch was the result. He remained quiet after a long sigh. Memories made his temples throb. He stared out the bay window, a smile lifting the corner of his mouth. “You know, we didn’t have that bad of a childhood. We were rich and we got to live here.” Burgundy droplets bounced off the liquid at the bottom of his glass as he poured.
“Is it that bad?” Russell asked. “I’ve never seen you drink like this.”
“I woulda stopped already if I had some Jack,” he held his glass at eye level, “then again, maybe not.” A third glass disappeared down his throat.
Russell snatched the bottle off the table, tucking it between him and the couch arm. “I’ll get you something stronger after you tell me what’s going on.” The move seemed to be too natural to be its first use for bribery.
With a huff, Morgan revealed, “Dad is bipolar. Bipolar II to be exact.”
Nariah was already searching Google for the specifics of the diagnosis. Reading aloud, she said, “It involves mild episodes of hypomania and severe episodes of depression.”
“I would have been more impressed if you knew that without having to look it up.” His words ran into one another, his eyes cloudy and drooping. “Give me some more wine. I’m parched.” Morgan cleared his throat.
“That makes sense,” Russell said more to himself than her. His eyes were on his feet as he recalled the memorable days of his and Morgan’s childhood. He jumped when Nariah touched his back, but didn’t move away. “He must not have taken his medication when you called.”
“Bingo.”
Despite having gotten used to his scars, feeling them, knowing why they were there still disgusted her. Scott’s diagnosis did nothing to change that. She wasn’t caressing them to soothe him, but instead to quell her anger. She was feeling their stories, his stories. The degree to which they raised off his skin denoted a particularly violent attack.
She wondered if Scot
t was wired, sensitive to every sensation his brain proceeded or if he was depressed, numb to the pain and anguish of those around him, pain of which he was the likely cause. Russell moved underneath his shirt, guiding her to another tale he hadn’t yet built up the courage to tell her. She cut her eyes away from Morgan as he looked in her direction. Did he bear the same map of their history on his skin?
“What made him seek diagnosis?” Russell asked.
“He and Mom got in a big argument. She threatened to leave him.”
“So, she knew?”
“She knew something was wrong,” Morgan admitted, “but you know how stubborn Dad can be. Don’t blame her.”
“Kind of hard not to.”
“She did the best she could.”
“If you mean standing by and doing nothing, then I agree.” Russell opened his mouth just enough to allow his words to slip between his teeth.
Nariah found it interesting how seamlessly and effortlessly the brothers traded roles. It told her that Russell was the primary receiver of their father’s torment; the curse of being the eldest sibling, the de facto protector. The scene also put emphasis on how little she knew about Russell and just how fast they reached this point in their lives.
Did he take time to process what happened?
Or did he block it out?
Is it the reason for ambition? His drive?
Can she help him heal? More importantly, will he be willing to let her?
She thought back to the night she accused him of trying to satisfy a fetish. She now understood why the accusation had the effect it did. She accused him of being like his father.
Russell grabbed her hand, acknowledging her telepathic apology. “How long has he been taking medicine?”
“A couple of months. As you can see, the drugs are working.”
“I need the doctor’s info as well as the names of everything he’s taking,” Russell demanded.
“You can ask him yourself. I wasn’t even supposed to tell you. He wanted to.”
“Well, this is gonna be an interesting dinner conversation,” Nariah joked, trying to lighten the mood.
“You’re damn right it is.” Morgan lugged himself to his feet, catching the couch before he fell to his back. He patted himself down before digging into all of his pockets. His keys hit Russell in the chest. “You’re driving.”