I had learned long ago not to get between Demi and his work. Life experiences had hardened him in some areas. His mind was set, and there wasn’t any changing it.
The day progressed, and at one point I sat in the open garage and watched Demi chase Mona around in the rain. This was after she’d grabbed a bottle of Nestlé water to test her theory that Demi’s dick was as thick as the water bottle. He actually sat there and let her get his dick hard just so she could do it.
They were being playful. All in one another’s space and liking it. There was no more bickering and fighting. Mona had on some cheerleader shorts she’d brought over and one of my T-shirts. It swallowed her top half. And once wet, it did little to hide her breasts. I wasn’t the only one watching them. Different people had gone to sit in their garage too. They gawked as they watched the woman at our home.
I wasn’t stupid. I knew people talked, but I also knew they would never be stupid enough to ask the burning question in the back of their minds. Mona’s laugh was loud and jovial. She was happy and fast as she ran from him. The rain did little to stop them. Mona’s ass, hips, and thighs caused men to stare openly. With little shame or concern that their women would catch them, they watched her.
While they were watching Mona, their women watched Demi. He was shirtless and wore only gym shorts. Most women were grabbing their imaginary pearls as they studied his dick print. Fascinating thing, though? There were a few women watching Mona with the same hunger their men exhibited. There were also men watching Demi with the same curiosity. I chuckled inwardly. Turned to watch Demi finally catch up to Mona. He picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder like a caveman. Smacked her ass hard. Talked shit about her making him chase her for so long.
Mona squealed and giggled. When Demi hit her again, she yelped and brought her hands back to try, futilely, to cover her backside. He just started to smack her thighs then. Her long braids cascaded down his back, and anytime he moved, they moved from left to right in a waving motion.
My cell rang and broke my concentration. I set my beer down, then headed inside. It was a New York number. I sobered up quickly, hoping it was Nicole.
“Hello,” I answered.
I heard a TV blaring in the background. The theme for one of those popular Disney shows was playing. Then I heard Nicole’s voice.
“Go on,” she said.
There was some moving around, and then I heard, “Dad?”
My heart stopped. Slammed into my rib cage, and I felt light-headed. “Jacques?” I asked, just to be sure.
I had to be sure it wasn’t a dream. Had to be sure my son was on the other end of the line.
“Yeah, it’s me. You know my name?” he asked.
I sat down. Ran a hand down my face to get my emotions in check. “Yeah, of course I do.”
He laughed. “Thought you didn’t, since we’ve never met. Mom says you live in Atlanta. Why so far away? Do you think you’ll ever move back?”
In the background Nicole said, “One question at a time, Jacques.”
“Okay,” he said. “Why do you live in Atlanta, Dad?”
I didn’t know what Nicole had told him about me. I didn’t know anything. I was flying by the seat of my pants. “Uh, this is where my work is.”
“Mom says you’re smart, like me. So can’t you find a job anywhere you go? We need teachers at my school.”
I laughed at his innocence. “I could, but I don’t think my students here would like that very much. They’d be a little sad if I left right now.”
“Do you think you’ll ever move back to where we are? We could see each other every day that way,” Jacques said.
He was talking to me like we had been in communication all his life. I didn’t know if that was a testament to Nicole’s mothering or what, but I for damn sure was appreciative of it in the moment.
“Anything is possible. I just may surprise you one day.”
Jacques got excited. “Ooh, can you do it for my birthday?”
“I’m not sure. You’d have to ask your mom.”
“Mom, can Dad come for my birthday?” Jacques asked Nicole.
“I don’t know, honey. We’ll see,” she said.
“Can I talk to him on video, Mom? I want to see my dad,” he then said.
Nicole was silent for a moment. Then, “Ask him if he has Skype.”
Jacques took a deep breath, then said with excitement, “Yeah! You have Skype, Dad?”
“I do. Do you have a pen?” I asked as I stood.
Excitement laced through me. I’d never had butterflies in the gut until now. I took the stairs two at a time. I locked myself in the bedroom. Rushed over to the desk to wake my laptop.
“I have one,” Jacques said.
I gave him my Skype info. I listened as Nicole helped him set up his laptop. Waiting had me anxious. I signed on to Skype and waited, not so patiently. Five minutes later, the call came through. Nicole’s smiling face in a profile picture popped up on my laptop screen. I answered so quick, I didn’t give it a chance to ring twice.
My hands started to shake when Jacques’s face popped up on the screen. His eyes widened as he scratched at the curly hair on his head. I tried to blink away the tears. He was in his bedroom. A big dry-erase board was behind him, on a sky-blue wall. Math problems were on it, some that looked way too advanced for a child his age. A full-size sleigh bed was to the left of him. A bookcase filled with books was to the right.
I couldn’t hold back my tears. “Hey, son,” I said.
“Dad,” was all he said.
“Mommy, Jackie talking to his dad?” I heard another kid ask.
Nicole wasn’t on the screen, but I heard her. “Yes. We have to be quiet so he can hear.”
“Can we see him?” another child asked.
“Not right now,” Nicole answered.
For a while Jacques and I sat there and stared at one another. It was like looking at a mini version of myself. I didn’t know what had made Nicole change her mind. Didn’t know if it was the threat of court in that last phone call or what.
“How you doing, little man?” I asked him.
“Exceptionally well at the moment,” he answered, as if he was well advanced mentally for a child. “Dad, I look like you,” he then added.
I chuckled. “That you do. Just like me.”
“I, um, I have your pictures. Mom gave me some, and then Grandpop Nelson and Grandma gave me some.”
I smiled. Those were my parents he spoke of. But I was shocked beyond words that Nicole had given him anything connected to me.
“That’s great. Thank your mom for me. I don’t have any pictures of you.”
“Mom said maybe we can send some soon.”
“I’d like that.”
“I’m smart in math, like you, Dad. I have a friend. She’s older than me, but she tutors me. And she’s a Mensa, Dad. She says I can be one too. So we study math a lot,” he said, pointing to the dry-erase board behind him. “I can do some things high schoolers are doing just like my friend, Gemma.”
“So, your friend Gemma is helping you get better with math, then?”
“I was already smart in math. She’s just icing on the cake.”
I laughed heartily at that.
“Jacques, arrogance isn’t very becoming of you,” Nicole scolded.
He dropped his head, then said, “Sorry, Mom.”
For the next hour, I sat there and talked to my son. I didn’t move. I didn’t answer my phone. Ignored the knock at the bedroom door. For the next hour, the only person who mattered in my world was my son.
Elliot
My son. I’d finally talked to my son. Nothing could take that high away. Nothing could compare to it, either. If Nicole never did anything else, she’d let me talk to my son. I was on cloud nine. Even when I opened the door and found Demi and Mona standing there, I didn’t care that it was obvious by the look in their eyes that they’d been eavesdropping.
Mona had an unsure expression on h
er face. As if she wasn’t sure what mood I’d be in once I came out of the bedroom. Demi was behind Mona. In his eyes, he was cursing me out. The only thing he ever worried about in this situation was whether Nicole and I were getting back together. He wanted me to have nothing to do with her. Wished there was a middleman who could deliver messages from one of us to the other.
I didn’t let that bother me. Nicole had done one thing right; she hadn’t allowed Jacques to think Malcolm was his father. Jacques knew more about me than I did about him. He was well versed in all things me. I had taken that whole hour to try to learn as much about him as I could. I felt it was the start to new beginnings. I’d learned his favorite colors. His favorite foods. He loved to learn. He’d shown me all his favorite books. Then he’d shown me his last progress report—all As. My son was articulate. As much as I didn’t care for the man Nicole had married, I owed him thanks for loving and nurturing my son alongside his mother. One day I would thank him.
“She let you talk to him?” Mona asked.
I smiled a wide, vibrant smile and nodded. “We were on Skype.”
Mona’s unsure smile turned into one of happiness. Her eyes told me she was genuinely happy for me. Demi said nothing. Nicole had proven him wrong. He and I held eye contact. I was waiting for him to say the wrong thing. The wrong thing could make or break us in this moment.
But he said, “I was wrong.” He paused. “How is he? Does he know who you are?”
I nodded, that Joker-like smile back on my face. “He does. Has pictures of me from my parents too. He’s smart as hell. Studying so he can take the test to become a Mensa.”
Mona’s eyes widened. She was impressed. I wanted to do a peacock strut. I was proud as hell. That night we all celebrated the momentous occasion. Didn’t go out. Mona didn’t want to. Said she didn’t want to run the risk of running into a homophobe. So we cranked up the radio. Created a hedonistic den of sin and got lost. We ate again. Laughed. I watched Demi use his tongue to make Mona speak French. She cussed so much. Tried to run away from him just as much.
She asked me for help. For a while I just sat there and watched them. Watched her catch some kind of ghost that was supposed to be holy when he lifted her ass from the floor and sucked on her whole pussy. She reached for my hand. I crawled to her. Gave her my tongue. Kissed her until her moans turned into whimpers.
Then I went after Demi. Slammed him down on the floor since he wouldn’t cut Mona any slack. So I did to him what he’d done to Mona. We found ourselves in the middle of nowhere, on the fast lane to hell. But you had better believe, we would be satisfied by the time we got there.
If only I’d known that things were about to go from sugar to shit in a matter of weeks . . .
Elliot
I’d thought that Skype conversation meant Nicole would allow my son to call me more. I didn’t expect a call every day, but I expected one at least once or twice a week. After that initial phone call, I stayed by the phone. Kept my phone with me at all times. Every time it rang or vibrated, I hoped it was my son.
It never was. My mood was somewhere between anger and regret. Two weeks went by before I heard from Nicole again. It was nine at night. We were in Mona’s hotel room. Demi and I had just come back from Apache Café. They were having a poetry night. Mona was supposed to go, but she was on a deadline and chose to stay in her room and write.
Demi and I had brought food back because we knew she wouldn’t eat while locked in her room. I’d made her step away from the computer so she could get something in her stomach. We’d all just sat down to eat when my cell rang. A New York number popped up. I stopped eating. Dropped the fork down on my steamed cabbage and stood. I moved away from Demi and Mona. Went to stand by the window.
“Hello,” I answered.
I knew it was late, but I was hoping Jacques was on the other end of the phone line. He wasn’t.
“I need to see you,” Nicole said.
Those words stopped me in my tracks. “What?” I said, just to be sure I’d heard her correctly.
“I need to see you,” she repeated.
I shook away the cluster of emotions fighting for dominance at the moment. She needed to see me? For what? There had once been a time when those words would light a fire in my gut. Nicole would call me late night and ask me to come to her place or ask if she could come to mine. She would be horny and needed me to stroke her fire.
But this was different. Nicole and I weren’t those people anymore. She had a husband and a family. I had Demi—I glanced over my shoulder—and Mona. Demi’s gray eyes were on me. Distrust was there.
“Why?” I asked Nicole.
“We need to talk,” she said, then took a deep breath. “About Jacques. We need to talk about our son.”
My heart started beating again. Faster than it should have been. I steeled myself. Braced myself, just in case she was calling to try to tell me she wasn’t going to let me speak to him again or see him.
“Okay, and how are we supposed to do that? You’re in New York.”
I heard a chair move back. I turned to look at Demi. He knew. He knew by the look in my eyes who it was.
Nicole said, “No I’m not. I’m in Atlanta.”
I choked. Literally. I started coughing. Found it hard to get my words out of my throat. Mona had turned around. She was looking from me to Demi, then from Demi to me.
“You okay, El?” Mona asked me.
“El, you okay?” came Nicole’s voice on the other end of the phone line. Nicole hadn’t called me El since the day she walked in and caught Demi and me in bed together.
Demi said nothing. I didn’t look at Mona. Kept my eyes on him. He had traveled back to another time and place. His eyes had turned to slits. Jealousy was there. Jealousy was tap-dancing on a bit of madness and unleashed rage.
I stopped coughing. Caught my breath. “You’re here?” I asked Nicole.
“Yeah. Just landed an hour ago,” she answered. “Can you meet me somewhere?”
“What area are you in?”
“I’m near the airport. Hartsfield-Jackson. At the Marriott Gateway. This was last minute, so I got whatever I could.”
“And you want me to meet you there?”
“Yeah, but don’t bring him. Don’t bring that man anywhere near me. You hear me, Elliot? Keep him away from me.”
There was anger in her voice. Desperation even. I already knew not to bring Demi. When it came to anything that had to do with my son, Nicole could get me to tap-dance on hell’s gate with the threat of the devil dragging me to the seventh level of hell. I looked at Demi, then walked over to the table to grab my keys.
“Okay. Give me a few,” I said.
Nicole hung up first. Mona stood. I put my phone in my pocket. I looked at her, then Demi.
“Nicole is here. She wants to—”
“She’s in Atlanta?” Mona asked, brows up as she moved closer to me.
“Yeah. Wants me to meet up with her so we can discuss Jacques.”
“This is good, right? This is good,” Mona said, encouragement in her voice. She was a woman who had never known her father, so she would do anything to make sure another child got to know his.
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I hope so.”
Demi asked, “You’re going to meet her?”
“Yeah,” I answered.
“Where?” he asked.
“At the hotel she’s at for the night.”
Demi frowned, like he was in pain. Made some kind of noise, then rubbed a hand across his heart like it ached.
“Sure you should go alone?” Mona asked. “With all that stuff you told me she had her brothers do to you, maybe Demi—”
“No, I said, cutting her off. “He can’t come. If he does, she won’t talk to me. I need to go alone.”
“This is bullshit,” Demi said under his breath.
“This is about my son, Demi. Nothing else.”
“How do you know that?” he asked.
“I just know. S
he’s happily married to Malcolm.”
He shook his head. “Bullshit.”
He couldn’t say what he wanted to say. Not with Mona in the room. He didn’t want her to know that side of him. Didn’t want her to know that part of our story. So he was tight lipped. Tried to communicate with me with his eyes and his anger. He wanted to fight me. I could see it in his eyes.
The last time we came to blows about Nicole, he’d been left with that scar over his eye and a broken rib. It would do him good to remember that.
“Want me to go?” Mona asked. That confused look was back on her face. She didn’t know where she fit into this circular square. Didn’t know if she should just stay out of it or offer support. I appreciated what she was trying to do, but I had to do this alone.
“No. I’ll call both of you if I need you,” I said, heading toward the door.
Just as my hand touched the knob, Demi said, “Don’t do it, Elliot.”
The threat in his voice was clear and present. I turned to look at him. Stared him down like I did the day I found out he had played me. My answer to his threat was palpable. If we were animals in the wild, this would be the part where we threw our heads back and roared before charging head-on at one another.
But I also remembered I loved the man, so I curbed my anger.
I said to him, “This is about my son. Nothing more. Nothing less.”
I turned the knob and walked out.
Mona
I was in an awkward place. Actually, I felt out of place. Elliot had only two concerns at the moment. I was neither of them. I started to clear the table. I had barely touched my food. I had no appetite, as I’d been in the middle of a writing frenzy. Anytime that happened, the only time I moved was to pee, and even that didn’t happen most times until my bladder was screaming.
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