He rolled away from her, sat up, and slipped into his clothes.
“Tak?” Deena said as alarm sliced through her. “Tak, don’t just—”
The door shut on her words. Of course, she thought. Of course sex hadn’t solved any of their problems.
Chapter Nineteen
Finally, the loons had calmed down. A full day of Hammonds and Tanakas meant the full range of manic depression insofar as Tony was concerned. From Aunt June, Mike, John, and Lauren’s mom, who squealed and clapped at the slightest joys—to Aunt Caroline, with scowls enough to curdle milk in its breakfast bowl. They had crazy on tap in that household and could conjure up every variety on demand.
Grandma Emma spent her time snoozing in her chair. Even then, she wore the painted smile of a woman with good dreams, or good jokes at the least. It made Tony think of the stories she’d told him, of chickens in the yard and dirt on the face, and soon he was strumming out chords reminiscent of a life he’d never had. Tony imagined that Grandma Emma’s heaven, when she reached it, would be something like Eufaula, Alabama, the place of childhood.
Heaven. Funny thing that heaven was. All different to every person and not there at all to some. As a Hammond, he knew that God demonstrated His awesomeness by smiting fornicators, burning down cities, and drowning every living creature when His temper flared. Tony sometimes wondered how many Hammonds He had a mind to smite at the moment.
On the other hand, the Tanakas were cleaved at the center, half Christian, half Buddhist and seemingly uncommitted to it all.
Interesting beliefs Buddhists had. They shied away from questions other religions proved desperate to answer, forgoing the temptation to explain the world’s creation or purpose, the afterlife, or whether God even existed. Four Noble Truths, they said, held the key to a life without suffering. They embraced wisdom, patience, love, and tolerance on a quest toward Enlightenment, instead of communion with an omnipotent God.
Both religions had their merits. With Christianity, he couldn’t deny the lure of forgiveness no matter how terrible the act. It meant a kid like him, who once rummaged through garbage for a meal, who stole what he couldn’t afford to buy, was still worthwhile, was still someone. It meant that Old Tony, sleeping on sidewalks with newspapers, was just as treasured as new Tony, convertible Porsche and all.
For New Tony, nothing had been denied. Not the Porsche, gifted to him for mastering three instruments to his father’s specifications, not the weekender yacht parked next to his father’s after finishing a series of sailing classes. There were credit cards in his name and a bank account for expenses, though the bulk of his money sat in a trust fund, contingent on his completion of college. When that day came, Tony cleared five million from his parents and another two from his grandparents. On completing an advanced degree, he could get another three, possibly more. These were the things promised and delivered to New Tony, a kid who had the leisure of seeking out wisdom and patience, now that hunger and fear had abated.
“You gonna keep up that racket?” Tony’s cousin, Lloyd, snapped from his bed on the other side of the room.
Before he could answer, Tony’s cell phone rang. He snatched it up, knowing it would be Wendy.
“You’re late,” he said.
Wendy snorted.
“I know and I love you, too.”
Lloyd’s long lean figure rolled over and batted lashes at the sight of his cousin.
“Ready to propose yet?” he said.
Tony gave him the finger.
“OK,” Wendy said. “Saints over Cowboys, 17 to 10. Jets over Browns, 3 to 0.”
“You sure? Cause—”
“Tony!”
“Alright, alright.”
She read off a few more scores for the NFL games he cared about before switching to college football. When done, he cursed.
“Lizard says you have to wash his car,” Wendy said. “Topless in the teacher’s parking lot.”
Tony groaned. Sometimes these games between him and the guys went too far.
“So, what’s the deal? You were supposed to call me hours ago. I call you a half dozen times and you don’t even answer.”
She hesitated.
“Gage came over for a little while. We watched M*A*S*H.”
Tony felt his jaw set. His lips thinned out in annoyance.
“That all you do?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Don’t act like you can’t figure it out.” He got up, feet pacing without his approval. “Don’t act like you don’t know what a guy like Gage would want.”
“A guy like Gage or a guy like you?”
“Me! What have I got to do with this?”
“Why don’t you ask your Jezebel next time you fall into her?”
Tony measured out an exhale.
“You’re being silly. I’m just trying to protect you. Gage—”
“Isn’t half as bad as that girl you chase after.”
“Whatever. I know he doesn’t like M*A*S*H.”
“What do you care? Anyway, I thought you’d be glad I found someone else to watch it with. All these years, all you’ve done is complain about it.”
Tony dropped back on the bed, mouth thinned in irritation.
He didn’t even know why he boiled; it was as she said. He hated M*A*S*H.
“I should go,” Tony said. After all, he had to meet Lila.
He jumped in the shower, pulled on a tee and jeans, and slid down the banister. Out front, he handed a fifty to the driver and sat back for the ride.
Fifteen minutes to Oranjestad, to Lila Dahl and her perfect smile.
Except the smile wasn’t what he was there for, and he was reminded of that the second she put her arms around him. Oh yeah, he thought as he kissed her. This was what he liked about her.
“Alright,” Lila said. “Where to?”
Tony pulled away from her in breathlessness.
“My house,” he said and couldn’t believe himself, even if he was the one to have said it.
****
As far as bad ideas went, this was possibly the worst. Not only was there but one place to take Lila without fear of discovery, that one place happened to be the easiest to get caught. In a house stuffed with people, no place in the house was safe. So, he’d made up his mind on the ride that they’d never actually enter the house.
“Wow,” Lila said when the house came into view. She careened her neck for a glimpse through Tony’s window, pressing mounds of curls into his face.
He understood her awe and had known it for himself once. After hitchhiking from Bismarck to Miami to find family, he’d stumbled into a world of wealth. Lila wore the face he used to.
“We’re going to the gardens,” Tony said the second the car stopped.
“Good idea,” the driver commented.
Tony scowled. Apparently, on bribing him, a shut mouth hadn’t been part of his purchase.
They maneuvered around the side of the house, taking the long way, the safe way to the gardens. Once there, Tony pulled her into a thicket of Kibra Hacha trees, akin to the African acacias they saw on a safari tour a few months back. He pressed her back to the trunk and kissed her mouth hard, hands everywhere.
It wasn’t long before her shirt went up for him, baring full breasts without a bra. Tony pulled her tee away and dropped it. This was it. They would go all the way.
There’d been a close call at a party during the summer they’d met. They’d spent most of it making out, but when his moment came; scoring with a drunk girl who might not remember had felt predatory. So, he took her home in a cab instead.
But he wouldn’t be calling any cabs that night.
Chapter Twenty
Tony woke to humidity, to sunlight, and to the absence of his pants and Lila’s shirt.
“What do you mean, ‘they’re gone?’” he said.
Lila swept the vicinity with her gaze. Sure enough, his shirt lie where he’d left it, alongside her jeans, but no sign other cloth
es remained.
“Stop playing around, Lila.” The sound of laughter too close burned a hole in chest to his belly. “My family’s out there. You need to put on your clothes and leave.”
“Don’t talk to me like that. Didn’t I tell you they’re gone?”
In that night, her body seemed glorious, perfected with sensuous mounds. Now it stared back at him, like the banner heralding a hellish nightmare.
Tony rose and searched the vicinity.
“They are gone,” he said.
“It’s a joke,” Lila said. “Someone obviously stumbled onto us at some point. Whether it was when we were…you know, or later. Either way, they made off with some clothes.”
He didn’t want to tell her how many possible culprits there were. He had loads of cousins in the house, anyone who might have sought out a good laugh. Even Uncle John or Mike might have pulled something like this, tormenting him for their own brand of enjoyment.
He could spend days interrogating suspects.
He wanted to pray. Pray to God and Buddha and Jesus and Muhammad and the six-limbed Lord Shiva.
The best he could do was hope to pass off his boxers as swim trunks, leave Lila in the bushes like the bare chested Eve to his Adam, and hope to find her shirt, quick. After that, the hard part began.
Tony took a deep breath and started off toward the house, weaving through the garden as far as it would take him. When he got to the end, his cousins Remy and Lloyd were waiting.
“You should have told us there was a party last night,” Lloyd said. “Leaving me in the room like that wasn’t nice.”
“Yeah,” Remy chimed in. “And you know the first rule of bro-dom. It ain’t no fun, if the homies can’t have none.”
“Gimmie the clothes. Give me her shirt, at least. You don’t want the kids to see her, do you?”
Remy grinned. “No, we want to see her.”
“Be serious,” Tony snapped. But he looked from one to the other, certainty dimming with each second.
“She’s this way right?” Lloyd said and took toward the garden. “We’ll keep her company while you find clothes.”
Tony shoved him the chest.
“Stop fucking around!”
But in the time it took for him to shove Lloyd, Remy was already cutting through the trees. He couldn’t stop both of them. Lloyd, who was older, taller, and stronger, could floor Tony and step over him. What could he do? What could he do?
Tony saw him in the distance. In fear, hurt, anxiety, he’d come to rely on the name.
“Dad!” he yelled. “Dad, hurry! Come! I need some help!”
Lloyd took off, followed by Remy, who kicked the hidden clothes out from under a bush. So, by the time his father arrived, it was just him, Tony, and a half-naked girl.
Punishment. He didn’t need to be told.
Chapter Twenty-One
Mike set scotch, vodka, rum, tequila, gin, and triple sec on the counter. Tak, who had never known that his cousin moonlighted as a bartender in college, sat back to watch him work. Five glasses sat on the countertop, each filled with exacting portions. As Mike worked, he whistled.
“Let’s play spades,” Kenji said. “I feel like humbling somebody.”
Mike came around to dole out drinks as they sorted out the teams, Tak and Tyson versus Kenji and Ken.
Tak drew the high card and shuffled the deck. Almost immediately, Kenji reached over and cut, earning a glare from his brother. Tak dealt, pausing only for a sip of scotch.
“This is bullshit,” he said.
Kenji snorted.
In truth, Tak had a stellar hand, but it did little to lift his mood. Between Tony’s antics, Deena’s secrets, and not knowing how to feel about Mike, crassness came easy.
Tak stole a glance at Tyson, trying to read the tea leaves in his face. His partner offered a secret smile then looked down at his cards. Good, at least had a decent hand.
“Kenji,” Asami’s husband Ken said. “How’s the shoulder holding up? I saw the game when it blew out, you know. Pretty rough by the look of it.”
“The team doctor says the shoulder’s garbage,” Kenji admitted. “Surgery’s set for next week.”
He tossed a card and claimed the ones beneath, earning a curse from his brother.
“Team doctor,” Ken said. “And Tak with this unbelievable house. You two are more glamour than I can stand. How did you come across this find, anyway?”
“Right place at the right time,” Tak said. “The owner was looking to sell.”
“And you just happened upon that?” Ken was looking at him now.
“You could say that,” Tak tossed out a card and claimed the pile. “The owner’s name was Brent Everclear. Maybe you’ve heard of him.”
Ken snorted. “Next you’ll ask me if I’ve heard of the Super Bowl.”
Once upon a time, Brent Everclear had been the star quarterback for the New England Patriots. Two rings had been earned under his watch, thanks to a cannon of an arm. Tak looked up to find Mike studying him.
“Isn’t that who Aubree Daniels married?”
Kenji snapped to attention.
“Mike, I don’t think you should—”
“It’s cool,” Tak said and glanced at his cousin. “Yes, that’s who Aubree married.”
“Who’s she?” Ken said.
“An old cheerleader and Tak’s ex,” Mike said.
“You boys must lead exciting lives,” Ken said. “Professional athlete. Unorthodox wife. Cheerleaders. Rivers of wealth.”
“Ken,” Tak warned. Aunt’s husband or not, he’d watch his damned mouth.
“Don’t misunderstand me,” Ken said. “Envy is what you’re hearing.” He chased the words with liquor. “I mean, women must fling themselves at you both. Oh, to be one of you.” His eyebrows did a little dance before he nudged Tyson enthusiastically.
“I guess,” Tyson muttered.
“Listen,” Tak said. “We’re not about to—”
“Top me off, would you, kiddo?” Ken motioned at Mike with his emptied glass.
Mike rose with his eyes on Tak, who tilted his head in discreet approval. Get the drink, was what that said. Maybe they’d get to meet the real Ken.
“You’re modest,” Ken announced to no one in particular. “And it’s very Japanese, isn’t it? Death before shame. Humility and deference.” He grinned. “Except maybe for Tak.”
“What does that even mean?” Tak said.
Ken grinned. “It means you’re good looking and you make sure we know it.” He shot a somber look at Tyson. “Lock that Dixie Chick of yours up. They go crazy for this one, you know.”
“Nix that second drink,” Tak said. “Someone isn’t handling their liquor well.”
“I’m fine,” Ken said and waved Mike over, seizing the drink the second he got close.
“To the boldness of Takumi Tanaka,” he said. “And the prowess of his little brother Kenji.”
“This would be a better trip,” Ken said after a swallow, “if we were back in Miami with you two. Oh, the ladies you must have. Every blonde shade of deliciousness. And nothing turns my head faster than one of those. Cream of the crop, I’ve always thought. But the way you guys carry on,” he spread his palms wide, gesturing to Tak, Kenji, and then Mike. “I think I’m missing something.”
“Yeah. It’s called marriage to my aunt,” Tak said.
For a second, Tak was reminded of the time he punched Mike in face after taking things too far with Deena. He considered doing the same to his aunt’s husband, then figured it would make absolutely no difference.
****
Asami sat off the rotunda, legs crossed, and looking out the window. Tissue clenched in her fist and gaze on the rain, the tightness in her jaw looked severe.
This was Tak’s aunt and his domain, but Deena sat down anyway.
A few sniffs later, Asami looked her way.
“Well?” she snapped.
Deena blinked. She had never heard the woman her raise her voice.<
br />
“My husband is a bastard,” Asami announced. “He has a child. Six years younger than our daughter.”
“Are you…are you certain?”
“Of course. The child comes over some weekends. He has done so for years.”
Deena tried to imagine herself in the same position as Tak’s aunt, but she got no further than her husband having sex with another woman. Right about there was where she murdered him.
“You think I’m stupid,” Asami said.
“No, I—”
“You’d be right. I am profoundly stupid.”
This wasn’t how the conversation was supposed to go. Deena should have been offering condolences and Asami was supposed to find comfort.
“If you’ve known this long,” Deena said. “Why are you upset now?”
Asami’s gaze drifted to the entrance of the room, before she turned her attention back to Deena.
“We fight constantly because of this. He says I need to accept things or get a divorce. I don’t want to do either.”
Him give her an ultimatum? She couldn’t pretend that any of it made sense.
“They’re not as perfect as you think,” Tak had told her. “Some are just better with masks.”
“Asami, a child by another woman must feel like a monstrous betrayal. But with counseling, perhaps, you can make peace with it.”
Someone snorted.
Deena looked up to see Aunt Caroline.
“That’s the dumbest advice I ever heard.”
Caroline sauntered through the room, weaving until she found a couch to drop onto. She did it with such force that the furniture slammed the wall, before she let out a throaty exhale.
“What you need,” Caroline said, “is to kick his ass one good time.”
“Aunt Caroline—”
“No,” Asami waved Deena off. “Let her talk.”
Caroline leaned in, satisfied.
“With the father of my oldest son, Tariq, I was the other woman and didn’t know it. I was sixteen and stupid. Too stupid to know I had no business with a grown man. Turned out the grown man was married. Didn’t want nothing to do with me nor my baby, once he got here.”
Crimson Footprints lll: The Finale Page 7