by J. D. Mason
Nick was filled with a kind of rage he didn’t know was possible. The kind that drove him to come close to beating the shit out of Luther. The only thing that stopped him, was realizing in that moment that, Terri wasn’t worth taking another man’s life.
It was Nick’s nature to know the reason for a thing. For the last few weeks, the question of “why” had consumed him. Terri owed him an explanation. That’s the only thing he wanted from her. He’d called her dozens of times since that morning. This call would be his last. Nick was about to cut his losses and give up ever getting the answers he needed, until she surprised him.
“Nick,” she said, simply.
“Surprised you answered,” he admitted, after a long pause.
Terri didn’t say anything, but she didn’t hang up, either. He’d had time to come down from his rage, and hopefully she’d be straight with him and at least give him some closure.
“I’m not going to beat around the bush, Terri,” he said. “I need to know why? And why him? Why my father?” Terri was so quiet, Nick thought that maybe she’d hung up on him, after all. “You there?”
“I’m here,” she responded, barely above a whisper.
Nick thought he’d had her pegged. He thought he knew her and what he thought he knew, made him want a future with her. Sure, she was beautiful, but to him, she was more than that. Terri had a worldliness about her that he was drawn to. Everything from her wry sense of humor to the torment she’d expressed over her career drew him to her—in the beginning. Time away from her had given him a clearer perspective of his motivation for wanting a relationship with her. Terri needed fixing. And Nick had grown up trying to “fix” things—his mother, his own broken heart from losing her and being let down by Luther. Terri was just another damaged thing.
“Was it me?” he asked, considering the possibility that maybe what happened had something to do with his schedule, the distance—sex.
“No,” she quickly responded. “No, Nick. It wasn’t you. Don’t ever think that.”
Nick regretted putting himself at fault for what happened, but he had to know. “You could’ve— Damn, Terri! You could’ve fucked with anybody. Anybody else. Why Luther?”
“It’s not like you’re making it sound.”
“It sounds like what it is. You had sex with my father. Nothing about that is remotely vague.”
“It wasn’t just about sex, Nick,” she stated, her voice cracking.
So many thoughts had been coming back to Nick since finding the two of them together. The coolness between Terri and Luther, the reluctance to even make eye contact. He didn’t think much of those things back then, but hindsight brought clarity to details. Back then, he just assumed their interaction had something to do with Luther’s aloofness and Terri’s movie star persona. But now he knew that both of them were working overtime trying to hide something.
“It wasn’t the first time?” he asked. “Was it?”
Terri took her time answering, “No.”
He suspected that it wasn’t but hearing it was still a kick in the gut. “So, if it wasn’t about sex,” he began, wondering if he really wanted to know the truth. “Then what was it about?”
“I hated myself for what happened. Neither of us meant for it to, but—”
“You didn’t answer my question. I was the man in your life, Terri. What could you possibly get from Luther that you weren’t or couldn’t get from me?”
“We were dating, Nick. Neither one of us ever said that you were my man.”
He wasn’t going to let her turn the tables. “We were seeing each other. You fucked me too. Remember?”
Another long silence between them. The comment was rude. True, but he was over trying to be kind.
“If it wasn’t about sex, then what was it?”
“I don’t—”
“Don’t,” he stopped her. “Don’t pull that shit. You know. So, tell me. You owe me this.”
“The first time— I don’t know what—why… We were talking and one thing led to another and it happened.”
“You read that from a script? That shit is cliché, Terri. The truth. Please.”
“What do you want here, Nick?” Terri paused. “That I felt a strong connection to Luther? That I was more attracted to him?”
“Is it the truth?”
Yeah, she made him feel like shit, but he knew when he made this call that it wouldn’t end with him feeling better. Nick needed answers.
“He made me feel—”
“Feel—what?”
“That’s just it,” she continued. “Luther tapped into a part of me that I didn’t even know was there. More than just playing a part on film or in real life.”
“Is that what you were doing with me? Playing a part?”
“I didn’t know I was, until Luther and I— You were—are everything right, Nick. Handsome, successful, funny, smart.”
“And that was a problem?”
“Chemistry was the problem. You felt it. I didn’t, but, I kept hoping I would. I kept waiting for that moment when something sparked in me, something that made me long to be with you when you were away, that never wanted you to leave.”
Nick raked his hand across his head, got up, walked over to the window, and stared out at his uncle Don lighting up a cigar in the back yard. He’d felt those things for her. Hearing that she didn’t was a blow he wasn’t prepared for. So, what was she really saying?
“Do you love him?”
“Would it matter if I did?”
Her response hurt. “Answer the question.”
“I don’t want to answer the question, Nick,” she retorted.
“You owe me.”
“I owe you an apology,” Terri responded. “I owe you my regret and shame. But, honestly, what I feel or don’t feel for Luther is none of your business.”
With those words, she solidified everything he’d concluded about her since finding Luther at her place. Terri was one of those women, out of touch with her own worth, wearing confidence like Saran Wrap. Pretty on the outside, a messy entanglement of insecurity inside, preferring to chase thugs and players, thinking they could change assholes into decent men with that golden good-good between their thighs.
“I don’t expect you to understand,” she continued.
“Honestly, Terri,” he sighed. “It’s not worth understanding. If you thought you were special to him, then I’m sorry for you. All he’s ever truly cared about is himself and that’s all he will ever care about.”
Nick didn’t wait for her to end the call. He did, realizing Terri deserved his pity more than his disdain.
“I smell it,” he said, walking up to his Uncle Don, ten minutes after ending the call with Terri.
The old man looked at him. “It was the only one I had all day.”
“The only reason I’m here is because Aunt May knows you’re sneaking cigars, too, and she wants me to remind you that it’s not good for your heart because she thinks you’ll stop if I tell you. But we both know that’s not the truth. Right?”
The old man shook his head. “Shit, boy. I been smoking since I was eight years old. How you expect me to stop now?”
“I just told her I’d tell you,” Nick said, turning to leave. “See you in a few weeks to tell you again.”
“You seen ya daddy?”
“Not yet,” Nick said. “On my way.”
“I ain’t so old that I can’t tell when you lying, son.”
Nick stopped by Irma’s for lunch before getting on the road back to New Orleans.
“Hey, stranger,” Yolanda said, taking the seat across from him as soon as he sat down.
“Miss Yolanda,” he said, wiping his mouth. “How you doing?”
Yolanda’s pretty eyes fixed on his. “Good. Really good. Haven’t seen you around lately.”
“Don’t act like you don’t know why. This is Devastation, Yo. Everybody knows everything. And as astute as you are, I’m sure you know what I mean.”
; “You know she left,” Yolanda told him.
He was surprised to hear it. Nick just assumed she was still in town.
“No. I didn’t know. Probably for the best,” he said, dismissively.
Their story would become legendary in Devastation, gossip passed down from generation to generation until it became skewed into something unrecognizable. Fortunately, Nick had two advantages. He lived in New Orleans, and eventually, if he was lucky, he’d die of old age and it would become more nonsensical than it already was.
“You think you’ll ever come by the bar again?” she asked.
“Don’t hold your breath.”
“You think you can forgive him?”
Nick smiled and left it at that.
“He can’t forgive himself, either,” she shared.
“Yo, I get that you’re his little sidekick, but I really don’t want to talk about this.”
“It’s just that, you can’t help who you love,” she said, leaning over the table.
“I don’t give a damn about who loves who. Can I please eat in peace?”
“So, for instance, if I were to tell you that I loved you—”
Nick suddenly stopped eating and looked at her, waiting for the punch line.
“That would make my point. Right?” she reasoned.
He laughed, “Your hypothetical love for me would not make a point that I care to entertain.”
“It’s not hypothetical. It’s true.”
He chuckled and shook his head. “I’ve known you since forever, Yo.”
“That’s about how long I’ve loved you.” She smiled.
“You mean like a crush.”
Yolanda rolled her eyes. “I’m thirty-four, Nick. I know the difference between love and crushes.”
Nick put down his fork, leaned back, and studied her, finding it impossible to tell if she was serious or joking. “Where is this going?”
“I told you. I’m trying to make a point.”
“What point?”
“That you can’t help who you love.” She leaned back. “I’ve tried not loving you, especially whenever you would show up with a new woman in your life. All through school, I was your friend, your buddy, but you never looked at me like I could be anything else.”
“I never saw you as anything else, and I didn’t think you saw me as anything else.”
“Because you weren’t paying attention.”
Was she really trying to make a point or really telling him that she was in love with him? And if she was—in love with him—then what did she expect him to do about it?
“Somehow, you telling me this is—what? Supposed to make me forgive Luther?”
“Not forgive. What they did was fuckin’ shitty, but maybe it can help you to understand.”
“I don’t want to understand him, and I honestly don’t believe that what happened between him and Terri had anything to do with love. At least, not on his part.”
“You made up your mind about him a long time ago, and he’s been balancing on the edge of your opinion of him and the truth of who he is ever since he moved back here.”
She knew the story of Luther’s absence in Nick’s life. He saw no reason to rehash it.
“All I am saying is that love speaks its own language, its own frequency. If you’re not tuned in to it, you won’t hear it. Luther and Terri were on the same frequency and they couldn’t help but be drawn to each other.”
Nick put down his fork and pushed his plate away. “Frequencies and love language— That’s no excuse to do what they did.”
“Not an excuse,” she said, standing to leave. “Maybe, just an explanation.”
Yolanda took a step toward the door, then turned, walked back over to him, leaned down, and planted a soft kiss on his lips. “I have wanted to do that since kindergarten.”
She walked out, smiling over her shoulder at him.
Wreckage
When all the magic of the world disappeared, music remained, a salve to spread over festering wounds and offer relief, even temporarily. Luther leaned back in a cedar Adirondack chair on the deck of Angie’s Padre Island beach house, lightly plucking at the strings of his guitar, humming a random melody.
Two months had passed since he last spoke to her. Terri’s house was empty, and Nick hadn’t returned any of the 2,000 messages Luther had left for him, so he finally gave up.
“You still have that house in Padre?” he asked, calling his friend, Angie.
“I do.”
“Can I borrow it?”
“Sure. When?”
“Now.”
Luther headed north to Shreveport, swung by Angie’s place, picked up the keys and had been in the house for a few days. The collaboration between his guitar, the ocean, the breeze, and seagulls created the kind of symphony that only God could make. Luther closed his eyes, bobbed his head and let nature take the lead as he played.
If he could title this song anything, he’d call it “Peace Be Still” because, for the time being, it managed to still peace inside him. A lifetime of regret could never be stilled for long, though. Once again, he’d committed a crime against someone he loved, and the price it cost him was his son.
Nick would never forgive him… and he shouldn’t. Luther didn’t deserve a pass, so he wouldn’t bother asking for one. Not from Nick. Not from God.
He wanted more than anything to apologize to Terri. To know that she was going to be alright. Nick, he’d be fine. A young, good-looking kid, a doctor, no less, would move on from this and come out better than ever on the other side. Fate and the odds were on his side. He’d hate Luther, but deep down, hadn’t he always?
Nick was used to his father not being in his life. As much as the thought pained him, Luther knew that his son would get used to it all over again. But was Terri alright?
“You wanna tell me what’s up?”
Angie’s voice sliced through the waves of sound flooding Luther’s head, snatching him back to the moment. He looked up at her, standing just inside the doorway and he smiled.
“Where’s Lou?” he asked, continuing to play.
She’d told him that the two of them would be coming up to check on him because he sounded funny.
“Putting the bags upstairs in the bedroom,” she said. “You could’ve used the main one. We’d be fine in the guest room.”
He shook his head. “Nah, I’m good.”
She came out and sat on the steps. A few minutes later, Lou emerged, looking like Ruby Dee.
“Hey, Big Luther,” she said, kissing the top of his head. “Got woman problems?”
He chuckled. “Who told you?”
She sat down across from her wife. “Angie said you sounded funny,” she answered.
“Did you really think I didn’t know?” Angie asked.
Luther stopped strumming and looked at her.
“I was your Spades partner on tour for how many years?” Angie asked. “And you think I can’t read you?”
“Let me guess. You caught feelings and she broke your heart?” Lou finally asked, peering at him. “First time for everything, I suppose.”
Luther cocked a brow.
Did Terri break his heart? Or did he break his own?
“Well, am I right?” Lou concluded.
“Closer to right than wrong, Louise,” he responded, continuing to play.
“Is it true?” Angie asked.
Luther stopped strumming. They didn’t live in Devastation, but they didn’t live far enough away to not get wind of gossip, either.
“I knew something was going on between you and that woman,” Angie continued. “Knew it that night when I stopped by the bar.”
“She really was Nick’s girlfriend?” Lou probed.
Luther really wasn’t in the mood to talk about it, but he knew that these two wouldn’t let it go.
“They were seeing each other,” he reluctantly admitted.
“Did you love her?” Angie asked.
“I don’t know, Angi
e,” he sighed.
Shit! How many times had he been asking himself that question? He needed her. He wanted her. She was a wish, a dream, a hope. Was that love? Luther used to believe he knew what the word meant. Now, he wasn’t so sure.
“You fuck around with your son’s woman, risking everything you have with that boy, and you don’t know if you love her or not?”
“It was never supposed to be a risk,” he told her.
“Why?” she challenged.
“Lou,” Angie chimed in, trying to come to his defense, but there was no defense against Lou once she set her sights on you, and right now she had her sights on Luther.
“Because you weren’t supposed to get caught,” Lou concluded with a wicked smirk.
“Because it wasn’t supposed to happen at all,” he argued.
“How many times did it happen, Luther?”
He didn’t answer.
“Because if it happened one time, and you say that it was never supposed to happen again, I might say, okay. You messed up. Got caught. Damn the bad luck. It was still wrong, but damn the bad luck.”
Luther set aside his guitar.
“More than once,” Lou surmised. “You tested fate and lost, Luther.”
“Shut up, Lou,” he told her.
“Of course, I’m not shutting up,” she said, coolly. “Did you think it was all right to mess with that woman as long as you didn’t get caught? Did you think it was fine to betray your son like that?”
“You know I didn’t.”
“To which one?”
“Both. And why did the two of you come here?”
“It’s my house,” Lou answered.
“Our house,” Angie corrected her.
Lou didn’t seem to hear her, choosing instead to keep her laser gaze fixed on him, convicting him even more.
“Did you really risk your relationship with your son for some pussy, Luther? Just pussy that you can get any damn where?”
“Why didn’t you stay your ass at home?” he snapped.
“Because she wanted to come see about you.” She motioned her head toward Angie.
“Then you should’ve let her come by herself.”