Love/Fate

by Tracy Brown

  Raul smiled as Sunny continued singing off-key all the way to Jada’s house. Raul couldn’t help laughing at her. She was a gorgeous girl with a filthy mouth and an effortless charm about her. Sunny could make you cry from her verbal tirades, or melt you with her silky, sexy words, depending on her mood. She was, indeed, a handful.

  But when it came to little Mercedes, Sunny was a pussycat. She loved her daughter, almost to the point of adoration. It seemed that, despite the hard life she had obviously lived, when Sunny gave birth to Mercedes, her life had reached its fulfillment. It was intriguing to all who knew Sunny as the hard rock from around the way to witness her melt like butter in the palm of Mercedes’s hand.

  By the time they pulled up in front of 104 Christopher Lane, Raul was happy that the trip had come to an end. Sunny may have been beautiful, but her singing voice was anything but. Sunny looked around at Jada’s neighborhood and couldn’t help feeling proud of her friend. The two of them had seen all types of shit—from back alleys to penthouse suites. And now Jada was living in suburbia—a cozy, quiet, tree-lined street in Staten Island, while Sunny resided in a deluxe Manhattan high-rise apartment building, complete with a doorman. She and Jada had once lived self-destructive lives. And now they both lived tucked among doctors, lawyers, and accountants. It was truly remarkable. But damn, what a high price they’d paid to get there.

  Sunny was modeling now. She was no Tyra Banks or Naomi Campbell. Not yet, anyway. She did mostly print work and magazine ads, a couple of runway shows here and there during Fashion Week, but it was work nonetheless. Finally she was living her dream. The only thing working against her was her age. Sunny was in her early thirties, and in the modeling world that was considered very old. Most of the girls who got the big ad campaigns were in their teens and twenties. The competition was fierce, but Sunny was holding her own. Having invested much of what Dorian left her hadn’t hurt either. Sunny was a rich socialite, spoiling herself and her daughter with the fruits of Dorian’s labor, and with her own. She wanted for nothing, and she had enough money to live lavishly.

  She dated smartly. A Knicks player for close to two years, and most recently a Golden Globe-nominated actor, whom she’d accompanied to the event. She was doing her thing and helping Jada pen a novel about the nightlife they’d enjoyed in their pasts. The two of them were learning how to balance motherhood and the single life. And more important, both of them were no longer addicts.

  Sunny handed Raul a crisp fifty-dollar bill as he helped her from the car. He promised to return for her as soon as she called, and she smiled graciously. She helped Mercedes step from the car, and the two walked hand-in-hand up Jada’s driveway.

  Sunny rang the doorbell, and ran her fingers through her natural brown hair, which was long and luxurious. Her makeup was flawless, as usual, and Mercedes looked up at her mother adoringly. Sunny tapped her foot as she waited for Jada to open the door. When the door at last swung open, Sunny could see that her friend had been crying. Her nose was red, and her eyes were puffy.

  Sunny hugged Jada, and rubbed her back. “Here you go with this crying shit again,” she said.

  This remark made Jada laugh, and Sunny smiled as she walked inside. Jada hugged Mercedes warmly, admiring her cute little outfit. “Baby girl, you get more beautiful each time I see you.”

  “Damn!” Sunny looked around at all the flowers that had been delivered, and shook her head. “People go too far with their condolences sometimes. It smells like a damn funeral parlor up in here!”

  Just as she strolled into the living room, Jada’s eight-year-old son, Sheldon, rushed over and threw his arms around Sunny’s waist. “Was-sup, Aunt Sunny!” He said it enthusiastically, genuinely happy to see her. Sheldon was always happy to see Sunny, the two of them sharing a unique bond. Over the years Sunny had spoiled him beyond reason. Sunny knew that she would never have another child. Mercedes would be her first and last. And aside from DJ.—Dorian’s son with Raquel—she knew that Sheldon was as close as she would ever come to having a son. She gave him everything he wanted. Every chance she got, Sunny sent Sheldon presents, and she took him on expensive vacations. Jada smiled, grateful once more that her friend was such a positive force in Sheldon’s young life. At a time when Jada was cloaked in darkness, it had been Sunny who had held up a flashlight for Jada to find her way. For this, and for many other reasons, jada was eternally grateful to Sunny.

  “Wassup, Sheldon?” Sunny pinched his cheeks as she always did, and Sheldon blushed. “Your face looks older, you’re getting all tall. Pretty soon you won’t have no time for Aunt Sunny.”

  “Nah, I’ma always have time for you, Aunt Sunny.” Sheldon looked away shyly, and Jada laughed.

  “Stop making my baby get all sensitive.” Jada smiled as she said it. Sunny ignored her completely.

  “Mommy’s just hatin’ ’cuz can’t nobody make her big behind blush no more!” Sunny joked. Sheldon laughed, as Sunny tickled him.

  Jada also laughed at this remark, because at five-foot-three and a solid size six, Jada was anything but big.

  Sheldon hugged Sunny once more, and then smiled at Mercedes, who waited patiently on the sidelines. Mercedes loved Sheldon, and each time they played together she would entertain her mother with tale after tale of their adventures. They were so close in age that they played together for hours at a time. Grabbing her by the hand, he ran back to his room so that they could play with his Xbox. Sunny plopped down on the sofa, and Jada sat down as well. The card she’d received from Born sat looming on the coffee table.

  Sunny scooped it up, and read it. When she was done, she sat back and looked at Jada. “So?” she said. “How did you feel when you got this?”

  Jada shook her head, at a loss for words. “I felt like somebody sucked all the air out of my lungs. I haven’t heard from him since … it’s been years. It’s crazy that he would contact me after all this time. How the hell did he know where I live?”

  Sunny pursed her lips, and sucked her teeth. “Girl, please! He’s the man out here. He knows everything that goes on in Staten Island. You can believe that. He’s probably known where you’ve been since the day he last saw you.” Jada closed her eyes at the thought of that, and Sunny crossed her legs. “So how do you feel about him after all these years, Jada?”

  Jada chuckled somewhat, and looked helplessly at the ceiling. “I still love that man as much as I did almost ten years ago.”

  Sunny frowned. “How? Explain that to me. How can you still love a man who did that to you?”

  Jada fell silent, and looked Sunny in her eyes. “He was the love of my life,” she said.

  Sunny looked at her friend like she was crazy. “He was the love of your what?” She was dumbfounded. Sunny pulled a cigarette out of her purse. She’d been swearing she was going to quit, but it was shit like this conversation that sent her reaching for a square. She lit it, and exhaled the smoke. “Don’t get me wrong, Jada. I always liked Born. Him and Dorian were tight like brothers. And when y’all were together, I thought he really loved you. But I lost some respect for him after what he did to you. Girl, the nigga threw you out on the street with a muthafuckin’ monkey on your back. And he was the love of your life?” Sunny’s expression was incredulous.

  Jada sat back, and folded her arms across her chest. “I hate him for throwing me away like garbage. But I can’t help loving him still. I can’t explain it. It probably sounds dumb, or whatever. But I think I’ll always love him.” Jada looked away from Sunny, her eyes staring at nothing in particular. “I guess it has a lot to do with his relationship with his father. But that’s a long story.”

  Sunny stood up and walked over to Jada’s small bar. She poured herself a drink, and returned to her seat on the couch. “Well then, start talking, girl. ‘Cuz I got all night.” Sunny stretched her legs across the sofa’s cushions and got cozy.

  38

  SECOND CHANCES

  Born walked into Anisa’s house, using his own key, and dropped his j
acket on the leather recliner. Seeing his son, Ethan, stuck in his usual spot on the floor in front of the TV playing Def Jam Fight For New York, Born smiled, happy to see his boy.

  “Wassup, Dad?” little Ethan greeted his father.

  “What up, boy?” Born lovingly rubbed his son’s head and glanced at the TV screen in time to see Method Man knock Snoop Dogg into the path of an oncoming subway train. Born glanced at all the games Ethan had—Xbox, PlayStation, Game Cube, even the new PSP. He had the hottest games for each and every system. Born knew that it was overkill, that all of this was too much for one seven-year-old to have. But Born was determined that Ethan would have his every heart’s desire provided to him by his father. For that reason, he went out of his way to fill Ethan’s closet with every designer children’s outfit by the likes of Phat Farm, Sean John, Rocawear, Akademiks, etc. Ethan had eleven pairs of sneakers—Jordans galore, Timberlands, Uptowns, and all that. Every two weeks he got a new pair of sneakers. The boy had a leather jacket, a Sean John snorkel, a suede Phat Farm coat, and a gold chain. Born even brought a hot hero from the local pizzeria to Ethan’s school each day so that his son wouldn’t be subjected to the school’s lunch. Anisa refused to make his son lunch every night, so Born bought it for him, since Ethan hated the cafeteria food. It was that serious. He had everything a kid his age could ever possibly want, and his father was proud of that. Born enjoyed seeing Ethan enjoy the finest things.

  To him, that was one of the marks of being a good father, ensuring that your child’s wants and needs were fulfilled. Born wanted to do whatever was necessary to ensure that Ethan knew his father had his back no matter what.

  Ingrid often told her son that what he did for Ethan was excessive. He was spoiling the child, giving him more clothes than necessary, more toys than any child could ever play with. But to Born, it was all part of doing whatever it took to feel like he was doing a better job at fatherhood than Leo had. Born’s disappointing relationship with his father shaped the type of father he was to his own son. In his lifetime, Born had seen his share of death and destruction, sorrow and sadness. But on the day that Anisa gave birth to Ethan, he had finally witnessed the miracle of life. He had seen life and hope, and his outlook had changed drastically. For the first time in his life, he had a reason to live. Ethan was his everything.

  His relationship with Anisa had changed long ago. They’d gone their separate ways not long after Ethan was born. When Born had first come home from jail, he had called Anisa, wanting an explanation for why she’d left him all alone while he was away. Anisa had apologized for her disappearing act, and begged Born to come and see her. He did, and he spent some time with her, and caught up on some much needed sex with her. But to him, that’s all it was. Sex. Then, to Born’s surprise, Anisa had discovered that she was pregnant. When she’d first told him about her pregnancy, Born had mixed emotions. His intention had never been to get involved seriously with Anisa. She was just a plaything for the time being, and he wondered if he could trust her. What if she was lying about him being the father of her child, in order to trap him? To be certain, he insisted on having a paternity test when Anisa gave birth. Sure enough, Ethan was his son, and Born assumed the role of fatherhood like a pro. He changed Pampers and went to doctor appointments. He was such a good father to Ethan that Ingrid couldn’t help beaming with pride whenever she saw them together. From day one, he was hands-on. He wished Anisa hadn’t been the one who wound up being his baby’s mama. But he was happy to have his son, and knew that Ethan would be the reason that he changed his life for the better.

  Born had given Anisa a chance to redeem herself after Ethan was born. And he tried forgiving her for the sake of their new family. But something inside of him wouldn’t let him get past the way she’d abandoned him while he was locked up. Something wouldn’t allow him to let go of the fact that she had proven herself to be untrustworthy. Anisa tried to look and act the part of Born’s ideal woman. Still, no matter how she tried, in Born’s eyes she was just the young lady who’d been lucky enough to have his firstborn. He still hit it every now and then. But Born knew that there was no real future between them. Still, in his determination to ensure Ethan’s well-being, Born set her up in a nice one-family home on Bement Avenue. He spent the night with her every once in a while. But he had his own home—a duplex condo off of Richmond Avenue—where he spent the majority of his time. He gave Anisa money for whatever she needed, and spent tons of money on their son. This was his way of ensuring that Anisa didn’t cause him any baby mama drama, and also that she wouldn’t move too far away from him and take his son away. Anisa didn’t date much. Not publicly, anyway. She had one or two “maintenance men,” whom she called for physical emergencies, whenever Born got tired of servicing her. But she dated none of them seriously. Anisa held out hope that she could sucker Born into having another baby with her. That, she figured, might restore her to the number-one slot in his life. Especially now that he was getting involved in the entertainment industry.

  Born had come home from prison, and gone back to getting money with Dorian’s crew. But it didn’t feel right to him anymore. Born was growing tired of the game. Having had so much time to think while he was away, he’d come to some conclusions. Drugs had destroyed the lives of those around him, and they had come damn close to destroying his. Leo was gone, and so was Jada, in a sense. He thought about Ace, just coming down from a twenty-year bid, and about his half siblings, who were still strung out in this day and age. And he thought about all the years he’d spent in jail, years he had lost forever. He wanted to be there for his son, and the risk of going back to jail or being killed in the streets was a risk no longer worth taking. Born began looking for an exit from the game.

  While still doing business with Dorian’s crew, Born opened a sneaker store in Park Hill, on Targee Street. He did good business with that, and used it as a front for the few shady dealings he still had left to handle. He enjoyed the day-to-day operations of running his store, but the money wasn’t nearly enough to entice him to leave the game alone completely. Eventually, he also took over Slim’s barbershop, and that business was successful as well. Still, Born was reluctant to do anything other than the one thing he’d done all his life—hustle. The legitimate businesses were merely excess income. It just allowed him to keep putting money away for Ethan’s future, as well as for Dorian’s son.

  D.J. was being raised by his uncles. And part of what bothered Born was the fact that he knew that Dorian would have been displeased with how his son was being brought up. Born knew what Dorian had wanted for D.J.’s future, because it was very similar to what he wanted for his own son. An education, without having to worry about paying for it. A chance to go to college, or to play professional sports, or to get into the entertainment industry. The sky was the limit for their sons, because of the work their fathers had put in, and the connections they’d made along the way.

  But D.J. was being groomed to be a heartless, fearless hustler. Born knew that Dorian would not have wanted that life for his son. Not so soon, anyway. DJ. was fifteen years old, and rarely went to school. He was constantly on the road with his uncles, learning the game and soaking up all the wrong shit. Born felt a sense of responsibility toward the youngster. After all, he himself had once been groomed as Dorian’s successor. He began to put in more time with Dorian’s son.

  D.J. wanted to be a rapper. And he was good enough to be a multi-platinum success, if only he were given the chance to do something other than learning the game. Whenever Born went to spend time with D.J.—as he constantly did, often for days at a time—he took him to a recording studio to help him learn the industry, meet artists, and cut demos. Born used his connection with Zion, his childhood friend who was well connected in the music industry, which allowed him access to all the best studios in New York City. They spent hours at the Hit Factory, where hundreds of artists over the years had created timeless classics. Born drilled it into D.J.’s head that someday he might be among those
who had created number-one hits in that very same studio. D.J. was excited whenever Born came to pick him up, because he knew that Born took a genuine interest in what interested D.J. Music. And getting into the industry seemed like an attainable goal, not something that was beyond his reach.

  Born also talked to D.J. about his father all the time. Not in the way that D.J.’s uncles spoke about Dorian. They made him sound like a Nino Brown type of guy, who had made a fortune by taking no prisoners in a game so ruthless that it would chew you up and spit you out if you weren’t careful. They made Dorian sound like he was 100 percent hustler, and nothing else. But that wasn’t how D.J. remembered his father. He remembered Dorian being a very handsome man, who drew all the attention whenever he walked into a room. He remembered Dorian as the ideal father, who taught his son to play ball and shared a love for music with him. He remembered Dorian as a good man, just as Born remembered him. A loyal and trustworthy friend with a heart of gold. Not one made of stone, the way D.J.’s uncles portrayed him. As young as D.J. was, he knew that Born had been a true friend to his father. He could tell by the way Born took responsibility for him, as if he were his own son. Born talked to D.J. about girls, about life, in a way that a father would. He didn’t sugarcoat his past. Instead, he described in explicit detail the way he had come to know Dorian, and the ways in which they’d taken the game and played it to the end. Born let D.J. know all the pitfalls that came along with being a hustler. He explained why he wanted to get out of the game, told him all about his past. And, by leveling with Dorian’s son as if he were a young man as opposed to a grown man, Born gained D.J.’s respect and admiration. D.J. could clearly understand why the man who had become his mentor and father figure had also been his father’s best friend.