by Carl Weber
Yep, I’m sure they felt sorry for me. Who wouldn’t feel sorry for a guy who caught his fiancée and his best friend screwing the night before his wedding? What man in his right mind wouldn’t have tried to kill both of them?
I walked down the corridor, and another CO patted me on the back for encouragement, then let me out the door. My stomach immediately began to churn when I spotted my father standing next to my sister. Sitting on a bench across from them were my mother and my stepfather, Milton King. I ’d seen them in court a few hours ago when the judge set bail, but I hadn’t expected them all to be waiting for me, especially not my father. He’d always told me that if I ever got arrested, I was on my own.
When she saw me, my mother jumped up off the bench and grabbed me in a bear hug, like I ’d just come home from war. It was obvious from the mascara streaks running down her face that she’d been crying. This didn’t help the churning in my stomach, which had become more like the spin cycle on a washing machine, the result of a combination of anger, pain, and embarrassment.
When she finally let go, my mother’s face was wet with tears. She stepped aside and my father approached.
“You okay?” He sounded genuinely concerned, but I knew it was just a matter of seconds before he started one of his high-and-mighty lectures about how I should have used some self-control. To hell with the fact that I was hurt and that two of the people I loved most in the world had just ripped out my heart.
“Yeah, I’m all right.” I nodded, avoiding eye contact with him.
To my surprise, he wrapped his arms around me and hugged me as tightly as my mother had. Then he whispered, “I love you, son.”
One of my eyebrows went up. I love you, son? Where the hell did that come from?
It took me a few seconds to respond, because we didn’t have a kissy, huggy, I-love-you type of relationship. That had always been reserved for my sister, my father’s unquestionable favorite. Our relationship, on the other hand, had been built on the fact that whatever he said, I did. I respected him as my father and my elder, but in truth, I didn’t much care for him as a man.
It’s funny, because as a kid, I thought he was the most wonderful, attentive father in the entire world. He never missed a Little League game or a school play. I can’t remember a Sunday he didn’t come by and pick me up for Sunday school. He even dressed up as Santa Claus for Christmas every year, up until I was eight. But none of that mattered when I realized he was a womanizing bastard who basically stole my mother’s youth.
My mother loved him so much that she used to cry herself to sleep when he wouldn’t answer his phone. Many a late night she’d throw me in the car so she could drive around, knocking on strange women’s doors, looking for him. I think I was about ten when I realized what was really going on. That was about the time I found out that all the women who came by his house when I spent the night weren’t really related to us. Before that, I just took my father’s word for it when he referred to every female visitor as yet another auntie.
This was also around the time when I found out my parents weren’t really married. Somehow, I ’d always believed they were, even though we lived in separate homes—probably because he always seemed to be around. Things really kicked in when an older bully realized that calling me a bastard and my mother a whore would piss me off. I didn’t even know what those words meant. But when I did find out, I asked my father to marry my mother, and he refused, giving me one of his lectures. This particular lecture was about sticks and stones and that nonsense about how words can never hurt you. I didn’t give a damn what he said; words can hurt. I know they hurt me.
It took a long time and a lot of coaxing from my mother before I got over the fact that my father wouldn’t marry her. Actually, I was still not really over it and probably never would be.
It was his treatment of my mom that made me so strong in my conviction to be faithful to Keisha. I didn’t want to do to her what my father had done to my mom. But now, in retrospect, I realized I should have fucked everything that moved. If she had slept with my best friend, only the Lord knows who else she’d laid down with.
Although I appreciated my father’s “I love you” gesture, I just couldn’t bring myself to say it back to him, so instead I said, “Thanks for being here.”
“You don’t have to thank me, son.” He released me from his embrace, moving over for my sister, Jamie.
“Hey, big bro.” She gave me a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek. “I told you Daddy would take care of everything.”
I loved my little sister despite how spoiled she was for a grown-ass woman. You name it, my father gave it to her. He even gave her a job in his real estate office, with a salary that probably made her the best-paid secretary in Queens. So, unlike me, Jamie believed my father could walk on water and do no wrong. As far as she was concerned, the sun rose and set because of him. Our views of our father couldn’t have been more different.
After a few more words between Jamie and me, my stepfather extended his hand. I took it, pulling him in close. I liked Milton a lot. Not only was he genuinely a good man, but he also treated my mother the way she deserved to be treated—unlike my father, who’d always treated her like a last-minute booty call that would always be there.
Milton and my mother didn’t live in New York. I had suggested several years ago that Milton move my mother somewhere far away when he told me he planned on asking her to marry him. My dad had a way of tricking my mother into bed. He’d helped her mess up quite a few good relationships and one marriage by screwing around with him. I knew that although my mother cared for Milton, he didn’t stand a chance if my dad was anywhere nearby. My mother was addicted to James Black like he was a narcotic, and she would do anything and go through anybody, including me, to get some. Thank goodness my stepfather took my advice once they got married and transferred his job and my mother down to Richmond.
I felt a hand on my shoulder.
“I’m going over to the church. The bishop just called and said people are starting to arrive for the wedding. I think someone from our family needs to tell them the wedding is off.” My father was like that, all about appearance and family reputation. He didn’t want anyone at the church to think badly of us, especially since he was a big-time deacon there. Of course, everyone in the congregation knew he was the biggest whoremonger in the entire borough of Queens. But he still tried his best to keep the façade of a respectable family man.
My father glanced at his watch, then looked toward me. “I’m assuming the wedding is off?” he asked. A silent nod was my answer. “Crystal, you and Milton don’t mind—”
“I’ll go with you,” I said quietly.
“You don’t have to do this, son. I can handle it.” I know he was trying to be helpful, but why couldn’t he just do as I said this one time?
“I know, but it’s not your responsibility. Those are my guests. I need to be the one to tell them.”
“There’s a chance Keisha and her family might be there.” I could tell my father was reading my face to see if I still cared about her. Like Omar, he was one of those who had often suggested I sow my wild oats before I walked down the aisle. I wondered if he was feeling the urge to say “I told you so.”
“I kind of hope she is there,” my sister said with a smirk. “’Cause I will beat her ass and you’ll have to bail me out next.”
“Jamie!” my father snapped.
“Leave her be, James. ’Cause if she don’t beat her ass, I will.” My mother placed one hand on her hip and her arm around Jamie’s neck. The two of them were displaying more attitude than a couple of street thugs. My father frowned, shaking his head as he glanced at me, then at Milton. I’m sure the three of us were thinking exactly the same thing: my problem had just become a family problem, and if we weren’t careful, that church was gonna be turned out.
James
5
The ride to the church was solemn and felt much longer than the fifteen minutes it took. Both Darnel
and Jamie rode with me, while Crystal and her husband followed behind us in his car. Regardless of what Crystal and Jamie had said at the courthouse, I don’t think any of us were looking forward to facing our guests or Keisha’s family—especially not Darnel, who was staring blankly out the window.
I glanced at him as I drove, admiring his smooth chocolate skin and handsome features. He was a good-looking young man who seemed to be wearing my face from my younger days. I tried to hide a prideful smile. I couldn’t deny him even if I wanted to, but who would deny such a fine young man as his son? I just wished I could find the words to help him get past all this mess with Keisha. From the way he looked, I’m sure he felt like he had the weight of the entire world on his shoulders.
“Your mother’s going to ask you to move to Richmond.” My words interrupted our silence as we pulled into the church parking lot.
“I don’t wanna move to Richmond,” Darnel insisted. “I hate it down there.”
I felt like I had just added another thousand pounds to the mental load he was already carrying. I had told Crystal this was going to be a problem. “Look, son, don’t kill the messenger. I’m just giving you a heads-up.” I pulled into a parking space about fifty yards from the church. “Your mother’s a mother; she wants to protect you from yourself. You can understand that, can’t you?”
“I’m not a baby, Dad. I’m a grown man. I don’t need my mommy to protect me.”
“You sure about that? ’Cause I’ve seen you suck your thumb.” Jamie leaned forward as she teased her brother. Caught off guard by the remark, both Darnel and I turned our heads in the direction of the backseat.
“You need to stop it, Jamie!” I shouted. “You are way too old for this. What is wrong with you?” I gave her the eye, letting her know that we were going to have words later.
She sat back in her seat and folded her arms across her chest. I loved her to death, but she could be so childish at times.
“Sorry about that, son,” I said, turning back to Darnel. “I don’t think your sister had much sleep last night. I’m sure she could use a nap.”
“She ain’t the only one,” he replied. “Look, like I was saying, I’m not a baby, Dad.”
I placed my hand on his arm. “I agree, but you can’t stay in that apartment with Keisha, can you?”
“No, but why do I have to move out? Why can’t she move out? The lease is in both of our names. Besides, she’s the one who cheated.”
“She’s also the one with an order of protection against you,” I reminded him.
“She didn’t ask for that order of protection. My lawyer said that they issue them out to everyone in domestic cases.”
I wondered if he was really trying to defend Keisha.
“That doesn’t change the fact that if you violate it, they’re going to revoke your bail and throw you in jail.”
“So, what, am I supposed to be homeless? ’Cause I’m not moving to Richmond. God, I hate her!” With those words, he opened the door and placed one foot on the concrete. Before he got out of the car, I reached out and stopped him.
“Son, why don’t you move in with me?” It wasn’t my idea of Disneyland, but it was the right thing to do, asking him to come live with me. I ’d just gotten Jamie out of the house not too long ago and, man, was I loving it. But this was my son, and as long as I had a roof, so would he. “Just until you get your head straight.”
Darnel, who was usually so self-assured, suddenly looked a little lost, like he’d been caught off guard. I couldn’t blame him, I guess. I ’d always been there for Darnel, but he’d never lived with me before, and he probably never expected I ’d be making an offer like this, especially now that he was a grown man.
“Come on,” I continued. “What do you say? You stay out of my way; I’ll stay out of yours.”
“What about Ma?”
“Don’t worry about your mother. I’ll talk to her.”
“A’ight.” Darnel agreed much more quickly than I would have expected. Poor kid must have really been hurting. With the decision of where he was going to live now made, he even looked relieved for a few sec-onds—until we stepped out of the car and started to walk toward the church.
Crystal and her husband joined us as we approached the door. The burden on Darnel was evident with every slow step he took, his shoulders slumped and his head hung low. I would have done anything to bear that weight for him, but it was doubtful he would let me, even if he could. I moved in front of him, hoping to somehow buffer him from what I knew was going to be devastating.
When I stepped inside the church, the photographer’s camera flashing in my eyes almost blinded me. White orchids and Casablanca lilies decorated the church, and the pews on both sides were filled with family members, church members, and friends of the family. I’m sure most of them had already sensed something was wrong from the casual way we were dressed. Darnel looked a mess after spending the night in jail, and as soon as people got a glimpse of him, I heard the whispers starting among the guests.
I ignored them as best I could as I scanned the church. No sight of Keisha or her family. At least she had the good sense not to show up.
I led our small group down the aisle. We were greeted at the altar by my good friend and pastor, Bishop T. K. Wilson. I ’d explained the situation to him earlier on the phone, and he’d promised not to say a word until we arrived.
I waited a few seconds for Darnel to say something as we stood in front and he turned to face the people in the pews. But he just stood and stared at them blankly, almost like he was looking right through them. For a second, I was worried he would break down in tears in front of everyone. I nudged him, but he barely even moved.
I looked at Crystal, and without me having to speak a word, she knew instinctively what to do. She took Darnel gently by the arm and pulled him close to her. I stepped in front of my family to give our guests the bad news.
“Good afternoon, everybody. I just want everyone to know that—” I stopped abruptly, realizing that I hadn’t given any thought to what I would tell them. Darnel and I hadn’t even discussed whether he wanted them to know the truth. Having everyone know that his fiancée cheated on him might be embarrassing to Darnel, and the last thing I wanted to do was cause that. I looked toward Darnel for some indication that it was okay for me to continue.
He seemed to snap out of his daze. “Wait, Dad,” he said. “I’ll handle this.” Darnel stepped forward and spoke in a firm voice. I don’t know where it came from so suddenly, but he had regained the strength that seemed to have been knocked out of him before. “I just want everyone to know there’s not going to be a wedding today. The wedding is off—for good.”
With that, Darnel stepped to the side atrium of the church. There was not even a moment of confused silence from the people in the pews. Sounds of shock and confusion escaped their mouths in an instant. Their questions echoed throughout the church, and though many of them were whispering to one another, the combination of so many voices was like a wave that could have knocked us over.
A few people looked at Darnel sympathetically, but I was surprised by the number of people who actually looked angry. Like this was all his fault.
“Where’s Keisha?” someone from the bride’s side shouted.
“This is bull!” another man shouted. “Why didn’t somebody tell me this before I drove fourteen hours from North Carolina?”
“Fine time to tell me now. I just spent all this money on the wedding gift.”
I felt like yelling at these fools, to tell them that their inconvenience was nothing compared to the pain my son was feeling, but then a loud, shrill voice from one of the side doors rose above the din, and all chatter ceased.
I turned to face Gloria Nichols, Keisha’s mother, who had shouted, “Where is my daughter?” She did not look happy, to say the least. Behind her, her husband, LeRoi, looked equally irate.
I stepped forward when I saw Gloria, whose usual sophisticated façade had disappeared, heading
for Darnel like she was ready to attack him. Her fists were raised. “Where’s my baby? What have you done with my daughter?” she sputtered. Her husband was right on her heels.
“I didn’t do anything to her, Mrs. Nichols,” Darnel replied. “I swear.”
I stepped between him and Gloria. She leaned in so close that I could feel the heat of her breath on my face.
“Where is my child, James Black?” Gloria bellowed.
I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t know, Gloria. And neither does my son.”
She threw an angry glare in Darnel’s direction. “I always knew you’d break her heart. What did you do to her, you bastard?”
Gloria’s accusations shocked me, because she and her husband had always seemed to love Darnel. I think the stress of the wedding had gotten to all of us, and now with its cancellation, Gloria had reached her breaking point. Crystal, on the other hand, didn’t share my sympathetic view of Gloria.
“Wait a minute, Miss Muckety-Muck. Who the hell are you callin’ a bastard?” Crystal had left Darnel’s side and was stomping her way toward us. She grabbed Gloria by the shoulder and spun her around so they were facing each other. The movement made Gloria’s hat fall to the floor, and Crystal just kicked it out of her way. She got up in Gloria’s face and pointed her finger inches from her nose. Then she started in on her tirade.
“I don’t know who the hell you think you’re talkin’ to, but, sister, that’s my flesh and blood over there, and I’ll be damned if you gonna accuse my child of doing anything wrong. It was your trampy-ass daughter who broke my son’s heart.” There was a collective gasp from all parties watching. “And if anything, Darnel is too good for Keisha. How dare you call my child a bastard? What is that little whore you raised—a double bastard?”
For a moment, it looked like Gloria might haul off and slap Crystal, but just as quickly as she raised her fist, she lowered it back to her side and looked at her husband, then back at Crystal, with a bewildered expression. I didn’t know what made her come to her senses like that, but I was glad that she did before any more orders of protection had to be issued.