Chance on Lovin' You

by Eboni Snoe

  “You were the one who didn’t believe they would,” he closed the door. “I told you I was going to make a good living, and I haven’t reached my peak yet.”

  Sherry smiled at him. “I guarantee that you will before the night is over.”

  It frustrated him, but Jason could feel himself growing just from the look on her face.

  “Got anything to drink?” she asked.

  “Sure. Are you still partial to Slow Gin Fizzes?”

  “Slow Gin Fizz,” Sherry laughed and threw her head back. “Take me back. I haven’t had one of those things in aeons.”

  “So you’re above that kind of drink now, huh?” Jason’s face tightened.

  “Don’t get yourself all riled up, Jason. I didn’t say that. I’d love a Slow Gin Fizz.” Sherry stood in front of a frosted table lamp and slid her coat off of her shoulders, revealing a white chiffon dress. Jason wondered if she knew he could see right through it.

  “I think you forgot a few things while you were dressing,” he announced, looking at the subtle contours of her breasts and the tiny patch of darkness a couple of feet below.

  “Unnecessary items, that’s what I call them,” she looked into his eyes.

  It was hard for Jason to turn his back but he did. “You get a kick out of doing this kind of thing, don’t you, Sherry?”

  “What do you think?”

  “Did the Ellises ever get a peek at the real you?”

  “It wasn’t necessary. I was able to keep her occupied in other ways,” she looked at the crystal bowl on top of the cabinet. “Spending money and living unconscionably well.”

  “You know you didn’t have to come over here half nude.” Jason said over the sound of clinking glasses. “I had already decided to give you what you asked for.”

  “How sweet of you,” Sherry put her hands on her hips. “Can you tell me what convinced you to be so accommodating?” A knowing gleam entered her eyes.

  Jason just looked at her.

  “This really is a lovely place, Jason.” Sherry reiterated, looking out over the water.

  “What did you expect? That I was living in the swamps and you would be forced to leap over frogs and lizards to come see me?” he held out the cocktail.

  She chuckled lightly. “Do you own it, or are you just renting?”

  “That’s none of your goddamned business,” Jason replied.

  Sherry took the glass and sat down on the sofa. “Ah-h, you’re so tense. Why don’t you come and sit beside me,” she patted the white surface.

  “I am not your toy, Sherry. Not anymore I’m not.” Jason looked at her with restrained desire.

  Sherry’s red lips turned up softly against the glass. “I never thought you were.”

  “You’ve already…paid me for my mother’s things,” he hoped his point was condescendingly clear. “The only reason I’m letting you have them is because they are absolutely of no use to me.”

  Sherry bit her finger and shook it in feigned pain.

  Jason shook his head. “I’ll be right back.”

  He went to the closet where his mother’s things were stored. The mid-sized trunk was near the front. Jason rifled through the objects in the cedar box until he came across a shoebox that contained a collection of objects. Among them, a small glass bowl, a kerchief, a coin and the old Sprite bottle that his mother used during her rituals to spray spirit water from her mouth.

  Jason picked up a couple of candles and dislodged a wad of cloth held together by straight pins. He started to close the chest but a glimpse of his mother’s handwriting stopped him. A repetition of the words, my son, Magic Key, and his land were scrawled from any angle that the small section of now yellow space would allow. Jason stared at his mother’s doodling, and a dawning thought emerged. Could it be true? Was he one of the many bastard children Cay Ellis Jr. fathered? After all these years of being jealous of the family that had kept Sherry away from him, was he actually entitled to the Ellis fortune? Jason squeezed his forehead.

  “Do you need any help in there?” Sherry called in a syrupy voice.

  “No. No. I’m coming right out.” Jason closed the lid of the trunk.

  “Are you sure?” The click of Sherry’s heels against the wooden floor grew louder.

  Jason stuffed the paper in his pocket. He placed the candles and the pins inside the shoebox and stood up. “Positive.”

  “So what all did you find?” Sherry came and stood beside him.

  “A few things,” Jason started out the room.

  Sherry looked at the bed. “You sure you want to leave?”

  Jason’s eyes cut towards the closet before he answered. “Yeah. Let’s go up front.” He headed down the hall before she had a chance to refuse. He placed the shoebox on the cocktail table and went into the kitchen.

  “It seems like all of a sudden you’re in a big hurry?” Sherry looked perturbed as she examined the objects.

  Jason was so preoccupied he didn’t hear her.

  “What is this stuff” She looked at a package of herbs marked with a skull and bones.

  “I don’t know anything about it. You asked me for them and I’m giving them to you. That’s as far as my involvement goes.”

  Sherry looked toward the kitchen. “I can’t imagine how this pile of junk can do anything.” She laughed condescendingly.

  Jason dug a plastic bag from underneath his kitchen sink. “Call it what you want, but my mother didn’t think of it as junk, and I don’t think too many of the people she worked on did, either. You can put them in here.” He handed the bag to Sherry.

  “Is this your way of telling me it’s time for me to go?”

  Jason closed his eyes before he spoke. His head was about to explode. “Look, it’s rather late and I’ve got to prepare for a couple of court cases tomorrow.”

  “You’re not getting off that easy.” Her eyes flashed as she took his hand and pressed it against her.

  “Not now, Sherry,” Jason protested.

  “Why not now?” She moved against his hand.

  “I’ve got a lot of things on my mind.”

  “So do I, but I didn’t come over here not to get what I wanted.”

  “You’ve got them.” He indicated the shoe box.

  “But I want more.” She unzipped his pants.

  “Please…” Jason shook his head as Sherry started to manipulate him.

  “Just once, Jason.” She kissed him lightly. “You know you’ve never been able to resist me.” She lifted her dress.

  Jason felt like a pawn, and he realized he would always be a pawn in the big chess game of people like Sherry and Mr. Ellis. That’s what they wanted him to be and he hated them for it.

  Minutes later Jason zipped up his pants and turned his back.

  “Do you think you’ll have word on the Bethel property tomorrow?” he asked, standing by the door.

  “I might,” Sherry replied cattily. “But tomorrow is Friday, and it may be Monday before I can get back with you.”

  Jason’s lip tightened. “I won’t be available tomorrow. If you need to contact me you have my beeper number.” He opened the door before he said, “No matter what you do, Sherry, I just want you to know I intend to stick it to the Ellises.”

  “You already have, dear.” Sherry patted his cheek as she walked out.

  Chapter 30

  “Where is my father?” Cay burst into the kitchen.

  “You’re back,” Olive declared, startled by his abrupt entrance.

  “I said, where is my father?”

  “I guess he’s in his room, Cay,” Baltron replied. “Is anything wrong?”

  “Yes, the same thing that has been wrong for years,” he replied as the door swung wildly. His voice waxed and waned with the movement.

  “Go, go, go.” Olive motioned toward Baltron with her hand. “Don’t let him do anything he will regret.”

  Baltron followed Cay into the hallway. “I wouldn’t say anything that would rile him, if I were you. His mo
od hasn’t been too good over the last twenty-four hours.”

  “I think I can count the times on my hand when my father’s temperament was good.” Cay strode toward the stairs. “So if I waited for that, the time would never come for me to say the things I need to say.”

  Baltron touched Cay’s arm as he started up the stairs. “I’m serious, Cay. He seems more touchy than I’ve known him to be. I think he hasn’t been feeling well but he’s afraid to say it.”

  Cay looked into the eyes that had shown him kindness through the years. “All right, Baltron, I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Cay walked up and rapped on the bedroom door. “It’s me, Father. May I come in?”

  “Is it important? I’ve got business to take care of and I don’t want to be late,” Mr. Ellis called back.

  Cay could feel years of anger rising inside of him. “I’m not some servant in this house, Father, or some associate of yours who needs to make an appointment before I get to talk to you.”

  The door opened slowly. Mr. Ellis looked at him with an expression Cay had seen all of his life. Someone else would have called it a snarl. “I guess it is important.” He walked back into the room, sat down in a chair, and continued to put on his socks. He glanced up. “What’s got you so fired up this morning you want to come in here and raise hell with me? That woman must have put some high octane in your tank.”

  “You can call it that.” Cay closed the door and sat down in the opposite chair.

  “You intending on staying in here a long time?”

  “Until I get some real answers.”

  Mr. Ellis eyed him, then went back to dressing. “What kind of answers?”

  “The kind you should have volunteered to tell me if you had been any kind of father.”

  “Hold on there, boy. I am still your father, and I don’t have to tell you a goddamned thing.”

  “I think you do have to tell me. You owe me that much. You owe this family that much.”

  “I intend to do what’s right by this family, and I don’t need my son telling me how to do it.”

  “That’s all well and good, Father, but I intend to know the real history behind this family. The whole story. How we got into the mess we’re in now.”

  “The whole history. I don’t have time to tell you all of that.” Mr. Ellis’s hands shook as he pulled at his second sock. “And what do you mean, mess? We got one of the largest fortunes in the Keys and we’re living large down here. People respect us. You got money to buy anything and everything you want. I don’t see anything wrong with that.” Mr. Ellis kept up his bravado. “And I haven’t seen you complaining until now.”

  “I’m not talking about the money—I’m talking about the reason all of our lives, our personal lives, are in a shambles. Look at us. Wally died a drunk. The only woman I ever married chose death to the realities here. You have chased every woman along the seven-mile highway and never settled down with anyone, and now I’ve finally found someone I want in my life worse than life itself, and I can’t have her because of who I am.”

  “Is that what this is about? You wanting that woman, Sasha Townsend? I assumed it was her you had run off with for the last day and a half. You didn’t get enough of her then?”

  “Yes, this is about Sasha. But it’s about much much more. I want her in my life, permanently. But I can’t have her without destroying her life, can I? Either by my death or by hers. From the time we came out of the womb, you and Grandmother set out to control my life and Wally’s life. Why? What was the reason?”

  “A lot of this stuff was laid down before your grandmother was even born. So don’t put all the blame on us.”

  “And that’s why I’m sitting here right now. I want to know the truth. I am entitled to know.” Cay’s voice vibrated with determination.

  “There ain’t much to it. It was the way of our ancestors who lived on Cat Island. We just inherited it. Who knows, they may have inherited it from our Ibo ancestors.” Mr. Ellis looked at his son from beneath bushy eyebrows. “I’ve told you some things through the years.”

  “I wouldn’t say that.” Cay pinned his father with a dark stare. “You frightened me when I was a little boy, and you threatened me when I got older, but you never explained anything. You simply said it was the way things were and there was nothing I could do to change it. Once you mentioned my great-greatgrandfather had started it all. But that’s all I recall.”

  “Well, he did. He messed over that woman, Sasha Townsend’s great-greatgrandmother, who was also heavy in the obeah, and he simply met his match. From what I understand he tried to use her and disrespect her in front of everyone they knew, and she would have none of it. One by one members on both sides of the family ended up dead or crazy, until they had harmed so many that they had to call a truce.”

  “And the Bethel Agreement is part of that truce?”

  “As far as I know. But there were other things.”

  “What were they, Father?” Cay insisted. “No, let me guess. What did you tell me that day I was no more than six years old and you were so angry? You had been drinking, too.” Cay squinted, remembering the past. “You said, ‘Anything you love, boy, is going to die. It’s in your blood. In your genes. And there is nothing you can do about it.’ I’ll never forget how I felt when you said it. Over the years I tried, but I never forgot.”

  “I guess that was a little harsh. But it was the truth.” Mr. Ellis shook his finger. “You needed to get accustomed to not holding on to people. The curse Bethel Obeah put on this family was a black curse. I tried to prepare you for the effects as best I knew how. It wasn’t easy, you know. That’s why I handled you and Wally with a long-handled spoon. I didn’t want you to get attached to anyone. I wanted you to be tough. It’s also why I meddled in your marriages. I was thinking about the children you might have. I wanted to raise them at Guana Manor like you and Wally were raised here. I was counting on that damned Sherry to keep the Ellis line going. Precious being the way she was was a strange kind of blessing. Too many children would have been too much.”

  “So you considered all of that?” Cay stated, dumbfounded. “But why did you choose Sherry to be a part of this family? In the beginning it didn’t seem to matter to you if she married Wally or me. Why Sherry, Father?”

  “That didn’t have anything to do with the Bethel Curse. Maybe it was a curse of another kind.” Mr. Ellis gave a half laugh. “At the time I was thinking about your grandmother. Back in the islands, many black folks thought lightening up our families was the thing to do. Your grandmother had drummed it into my head that she wanted her grands and great-great-grands to be fair-skinned. From my perspective, Sherry was perfect. You know when you look at her you can’t tell if she’s black or white.” One bushy eyebrow lifted as he nodded his head. “Mother wouldn’t stand for us crossing the color line, so damn near white was the best choice.”

  Cay just looked at him.

  “I’m just telling you the truth. But, of course, now I know choosing Sherry was a mistake. She is more of a manipulator than I am. But as far as the rest of it goes…you wanted to know your history. There it is. You can’t run away from it. No matter how you might try.”

  “So you’re saying what happened to this family is the result of a curse put on us by the Bethels generations ago? And that is how the feud between the Bethels and the Ellises began?”

  “Yes. It started with your great-great-grandfather doing what we Ellis men do best. Screwing around.” His lips turned a cynical smile.

  Cay asked, closing his eyes, “What if I wanted to end it now?”

  Mr. Ellis looked at Cay’s anguished face, and his son’s pain broke through his bravado. He wanted to reach out and comfort him but he didn’t know how. “From what I understand, it’s not possible. The people who put down the curse have died. No one else can remove it.”

  Cay was silent before he said, “I can’t believe that. There has to be a way to break it,” he insisted.

  “We’ve bee
n living with it for generations. That’s the way it is, and the way it will always be.”

  Cay stood up and looked at his father. For the first time since he was a child his heart called out for an end to the pain and sadness that haunted his family. Suddenly, a strength filled him that he had never known before, and Cay declared, “Not if I can help it.”

  Chapter 31

  “I had to get out of there. I haven’t seen so many long faces in my life.” Olive fanned herself with her hand. “I hope you like conch fritters.” She placed the tinfoil bundle on the table. “And key lime pie. It’s as good as it gets. I used some of the limes from the orchard back there.”

  “I love key lime pie and conch fritters,” Sasha replied, a little flustered by Olive’s impromptu visit. She was still reeling from what had transpired with Cay.

  A car passing on the road made Sasha look through the screened door. She caught a glimpse of a black-topped car. She was disappointed it was not Cay’s white SUV turning onto her property; Cay coming to apologize because he realized he made a mistake.

  “That’s probably Mr. Ellis.” Olive strained to see the vehicle. “On and off during the evening he kept saying things like ‘Nobody takes advantage of the Ellises’ and ‘I’m going to fix that little red wagon.’ Stuff like that. He’s got something going. Lord help whoever it involves.” She sat back in the chair. “Considering the way Mr. Cay looked when he asked if his father was at home, it appears everybody’s got some score to settle.”

  “So Cay is still at home?”

  “He was there when I left the house.” Olive shrugged her shoulders. “He didn’t say anything to me about leaving.”

  Sasha looked at the clock. It was twelve-thirty. Cay had said he had a business meeting at noon. He had lied.

  “Is something wrong?” Olive asked.

  “No.” Sasha looked up furtively from downcast eyes.

  “Do you mind if I ask you something?”

  “I guess not,” Sasha said hesitantly.

  “It’s obvious there’s something going on between you and Mr. Cay. Were you two together when he left early yesterday morning? He didn’t tell anybody where he was going so we had no idea where he was.”