“Don’t worry about it,” I said, as I winked, grabbed an apple off of the counter and walked away.
I chuckled as I walked to the living room. I couldn’t believe it. I was home for not even an hour and somebody had already tried to kill me. At least she was hot. I grabbed the cordless phone to take up to my old room, that’s where my mother said I could stay once I got out. Upon entering the room, I could see she took the liberty of stocking the closet with new clothes and new shoes. This was more of a benefit to her lifestyle. This was that whole makeover thing I was talking about. She still hadn’t told me where all my old stuff was. I wrinkled my face. The sight of Polo shirts and khakis made me want to pour bleach in my eyes. Country club robot, I refuse. Hell no. I quickly closed the closet doors and looked down at the phone. I’d been dying to make this call to see what was up with Nikki, my girlfriend. I flopped down on the bed and stared at the phone again. My fingers quickly punched in her number and hit the call button, before I had time to hesitate. The line continued to ring, and I was just about to hang up when I heard her sweet voice.
“Hello,” she said.
“It’s me.”
“James, you’re calling me from your mother’s. You’re out already?” She sounded surprised, but not in a good way.
“I am.”
“James…” her voice cracked.
“Where have you been for the last six months?” I cut to the chase.
“You’ve been away so long. It’s been hard.”
“What the fuck does that mean? It’s been hard. I just served sixteen months for a crime I wasn’t even aware that I was committing at the time. Now that’s hard. My whole world has been turned upside down and you just disappear. What the hell, Nikki?”
“I went through some personal issues,” she said, “I’m sorry.”
I rolled my eyes and shook my head. I could feel heat rising from my neck to my ears.
“Who is he? Do I know him?” I hoped she would say something to make me believe differently.
She didn’t respond immediately, and my insides started to ache. That alone confirmed my fear that she had found someone else. I must know this asshole if she can’t even give me a first name.
“Nikki? Who is he?” I repeated louder.
“You have to promise not to do anything, James,” she said.
Is she kidding me? She’s sleeping around with some guy I know, and I’m supposed to keep my cool.
“Name. Give me his name. You owe me that much.”
“Zach. It’s Zach,” she cried out.
I felt sick. My stomach turned over, and my hands started to shake in anger. I gripped the phone tighter.
“You make me sick. The both of you do. I never want to see your face again.”
I ended the call quickly, stood up, and walked over to the door slamming it closed. I leaned both of my hands against the back of the door and dropped my head. This man, Zach, who used to be my best friend, was banging Nikki, who used to be my girlfriend. Zach, was also the person responsible for getting me locked up. It would be a miracle if I made it through today without getting thrown back into prison. I turned around and basically peeled my black T-shirt off and flung it across the room. Just when I thought things couldn’t get worse, they did. I heard the sound of knocking on my door, and then she spoke.
“James…James. It’s your mother.”
I spun around in a circle, grunted and stared at the door. Maybe she’ll just go away.
“James…I know you’re in there. I didn’t speed race over for nothing.”
I made a slow but steady step over and opened the door. I towered over her with my six foot frame. She greeted me with a forced smile. She stood there in all her glory, dusting her hands off, as if she did some type of manual labor by knocking on my door. Her brown hair was pinned back and held up with so much hairspray, I could have lit that shit on fire, and probably caused fireworks. I remained silent and crossed my arms. I watched her brown eyes almost pop out of her head, as she took in the large tattoo that ran across my upper chest. It read ‘Mi Vida Loca.’
“New tattoo? What happened? Did you join a Mexican gang when you were inside?”
Her eyes jumped over to the old ink on my upper right arm. The tattoo was of the Virgin Mary and rose. She shook her head and let her eyes drift back to my chest.
“I might have,” I sarcastically answered.
“That’s real funny.” She paused. “You look great, James. I see you’ve been working out.”
“There’s nothing else to do in prison.”
“Don’t complain. You did it to yourself.” She cut her eyes at me.
“How can you say that?”
“I told you to stay away from Zach. You didn’t listen.”
“I don’t want to talk about him. Why didn’t you pick me up? You knew today was my release day.”
“Oh, honey, you know I can’t be seen around a prison. Don’t be silly.”
“You could have sent a car and driver by at least.”
“I didn’t want word getting out. Drivers talk. The media would have been all over the place.”
This was my mother. Too busy worrying what everyone thought about her. Too busy to be an actual mom.
“Yeah, you’re right. What a stupid idea. A mother who actually picks up her son from jail. What was I thinking? Gosh. I am such an idiot.”
“Stop it.” She paused and looked at my tattoos again. “Get ready. Your brother is coming home tonight. Put something nice on and cover up all those tattoos. You look like a thug.”
“Get ready for what?” I glared at her.
“I’m having a welcome home dinner party for Chad.”
“Are you serious? I just got home. What about me?”
“Darling, I hardly feel like celebrating your release from prison is a good thing.”
“No, but having your son home is.”
She arched an eyebrow and released a sigh. She rubbed her temple for a brief moment and then started to dig into her purse, before pulling out a wad of money and jamming it into my hand.
“There. Glad your home, James,” she said and walked out of sight.
I stared down at the money in between my fingers. All I could see was a bunch of hundred dollar bills. This was how she showed her love for me. She bought me off. She didn’t even hug me once. She didn’t pull me close and tell me how much she missed me or how much she loved me. I mean, what the hell was wrong with her? The lady was currently planning a dinner party for my brother, on my release day. I shoved the money in my pocket and turned to the closet for a shirt. I quickly turned away when the mental image of Polo’s popped in my head. I looked over at the dresser and silently prayed to the gods that something of my taste would be in there. I yanked open drawer after drawer until I saw the T-shirts. Yes. Fuck yes. I tossed one on as fast as I could. I really needed to get out of this house, and away from her. Did she just say she couldn’t pick me up from prison because it would make her look bad? This is the type of shit I dealt with, when it came to her. That’s why I walked away from her years ago. If it wasn’t for circumstances I wouldn’t be here, and I think she knew it. I guess we would both needed to learn how to play nice with each other, until I got my shit together again. I started to walk out of my room, when I saw the pretty, young thing from earlier. The cleaning girl. She looked at me nervously. I pulled out my keys.
“I didn’t say anything about the knife, or your fine dancing for that matter,” I said, as I locked the door. My tone was clipped.
I watched her swallow the lump in her throat. She looked so innocent standing there, and it appeared as if she wanted to say something, but like an asshole I didn’t give her the chance to. I just turned and walked down the hallway. I felt a little bad for some reason, and part of me wondered what she had to say, but the other part of me was so angry at Nikki and my mother, I didn’t care. I grabbed my mother’s keys off of the table without asking her, and jumped into her black Beamer parked outside
.
I knew exactly where to go to cool down. The Blue Moon Bar was the best place around to get a nice stiff drink and forget your troubles. I know, because I used to bartend there. Maybe while I was there, I could talk to Mike, the bar owner, to see if he would let me come on board again. I don’t know how he felt about me, after all the rumors and my case. It’s pretty hard to convince people that what you did, was not really what you did. It’s not going to hurt to ask and the worst thing he could say was no.
I looked down at the speedometer to notice how fast I was driving. I forgot how good it felt to drive a car. The windows were all down and the air against my face felt amazing. I really had missed these simple joys. It’s wasn’t long before I pulled into the parking lot of the bar. I parked, sprang out of the car and sprinted toward the door. As I entered I was hit with the familiar scent of leather seats, hard liquor and cigars. Now this was my type of place. I spotted Mike behind the bar. It was hard to miss him. He was about five feet and eleven inches. He had a stocky build. His brownish, gray hair was a little longer than last time I saw him. It sat messy at his ears. He smiled and his eyes lit up as he saw me. He tossed his hands in the air.
“James, how in the hell are you, my brother?” he said, as he worked his way around the bar so that he could hug me.
“I’m good, man.”
“When did you get out?” he asked, as he pulled away.
“Today. I literally got home about an hour ago.” I smiled.
“Well, shit, man. Have a seat. I’ll pour you a drink or two on the house.” He paused. “Whiskey okay?”
“Yeah, that’s perfect. Thanks.”
He made his way back behind the bar and started grabbing things. He turned around, and instead of a shot glass, he put a normal sized glass in front of me. He placed the whiskey bottle next to it. I looked down at the setup and chuckled. I poured just a little in the glass and then downed it. Immediate liquor burn filled my throat. I tightly, closed my eyes and shook it off.
“So, man, what the hell happened? I heard you got busted for drugs,” Mike said, as he leaned against the bar. “Word on the street had it that somebody else was involved.”
“I let my guard down and trusted a friend I shouldn’t have. The drugs…not my fault,” I replied.
“I knew it. That ain’t you. I told people, that ain’t James. No way.”
I grabbed the bottle and poured whiskey into my glass. A little more liquid courage will do the trick. I’ll just transition from talking about my prison case to asking for work. Ugh! Now or never.
“It was tough to pull this off, but the courts are allowing me bar work again. You guys need help around here? You hiring?” I nervously asked.
“Wow. They hardly ever let someone with what you have on your record work anywhere around liquor.”
“Right. Maybe it’s the King name. I don’t know. I’m just pleased I got a break in that area.”
“Yeah man. I could use the help. I had a few guys that quit on me last week. It’s been hard since you left, bro. You were my best bartender.”
“Tell me when. I’ll be here.”
“Tomorrow night good with you?”
“Yeah. That’s perfect,” I said. I felt this stupid grin spread across my face, but I couldn’t help it.
“Alright.” Mike smiled from ear to ear. He begun to wipe down the bar.
I grabbed my glass of whiskey, and tossed it back. The heat slid down my throat, as I breathed out an invisible fire. I slammed the glass down and stood up.
“I hate to drink and run, but I have to get going. My brother Chad’s coming back in town tonight. If I’m not there for his arrival, the Earth may stop turning, and according to my mother we can’t have that.”
“That’s funny. How’s your mom? Still meaner than a cat on fire?”
“Meaner? I think that woman eats battery acid for breakfast.”
We both laughed, and shook hands.
“I’ll see you tomorrow and we can catch up, James. Take it easy.” Mike waved as I turned to leave.
I jumped back into the beamer and drove back to my temporary place of residence as I liked to call it. As I pulled into the driveway, I could already see my mother standing outside with her hand on her hip. I parked the car quickly and mentally prepared myself for her dramatics. I stepped out of the car and walked over. She put the palm of her hand out. I looked at her hand first before I dropped the keys into it.
“Take my car again, and see what happens. The next time I’ll call the cops on you myself.”
“Glad to be home, mom. I see things are still the same,” I said and walked past her.
“Have you been drinking and driving my car, James?” she yelled and followed me inside.
I ignored her and walked into the living room. I didn’t want to fight, but I could feel she did.
“James, you answer me when I talk to you, damn it.”
“I’m not a child anymore. Stop treating me like one,” I said and turned around.
“Well, stop acting like one.”
“How would you even know what a child acts like? You were a non-existent mother. A nanny named Anna raised me and Chad.” I didn’t even mean to say it. It just came out. That comment definitely had been sitting at the surface of my mind. It was mixed in there with all the other stuff I wanted to say like a big pot of shit talk family stew.
She held her chest, as a stunned expression fell upon her face. I could see the nameless, pretty cleaning girl dusting behind my mother. She was definitely listening to this whole conversation and thinking how dysfunctional this family was, or maybe how dysfunctional I am. Fuck. I don’t care. I’m about to put it all out there, because I’m tired of hiding behind walls. I’m tired of pretending the King family was perfect.
“Are we talking about character? I’m not the jail bird here, am I?” she yelled.
“That’s not fair and you know it. Zach handed me a backpack and asked me to carry it for him. How the hell was I supposed to know we were doing a drop? I had no clue what was in that backpack.”
“Two pounds of cocaine and you had no clue? You must think I’m stupid.”
“No, you’re not stupid. A stupid person doesn’t have the ability to whore them-selves out for money in sheer perfection the way you do.”
She reached back and slapped me. The sting ran across my face. I looked down at the floor before I stared back at her. My eyes shifted from my mother to the cleaning girl who was now just staring at us. Her hand quickly covered her mouth in shock. I looked back to my mother with a mix of embarrassment and anger. I squinted my eyes and exercised a few breathing techniques, because my first reaction was to strike back. I would never hit a woman, but an unhealthy anger was building and building within me. This was our relationship. It always had been. She was poison to me and when she was around, my sunshine was stripped and torn away. No beauty. No blessings. Just a storm in high heels.
“Don’t you ever in your life, say something like that.” She pointed her finger at me. The doorbell rang. She adjusted her dress and ran both of her hands along the sides of hair. She exhaled hard and then smiled. “Now, go get dressed. The guest have arrived.”
This was so like her. Life was always a show and no matter what, when the pretend cameras were on, so was she. She dropped her smile and waved her hand in the air. I backed up slowly, keeping my eye on her. I turned and walked away. I could hear her letting people in and laughing with them as if nothing happened. How could she do that? How could she just turn her emotions on and off like a light switch. I slammed my hands against the wall in the hallway as I walked back to my room. Everything about this woman burned me up. What I hated the most, was that out of all the people in the world, my own flesh and blood made me feel this way. I almost wished I was back in prison, just so I wouldn’t have to see her face.
I was determined to get out of this house quickly, away from her and back to a normal life. A life which did not include Victoria King, but for now I would
have to dance with the devil just a little longer.
Chapter 2. Dirty Laundry
I looked into the mirror and straightened my tie. I searched my face only to see brown eyes and a frown. I combed my short brown hair and threw just a bit of gel in it, and then tossed my hair through my fingers, until it looked like a perfected mess. I had to admit I looked sharp, but this style of clothing was far from what I would normally wear. I was more of a jeans and T-shirt guy, not a dress shirt and slacks man. I grabbed the cologne bottle and sprayed a few spritzes across my chest. I sat down and slid into my shoes. I was just about to polish them when the sound of knocking made me sit at attention. I remained quiet, hoping that if it was my mother, she would just go away, but the knocking became faster and louder. I stood up, walked over and swung open the door. It was her, the sexy maid.
My face was scrunched into angry wrinkles just five seconds prior to opening the door, and now I couldn’t un-wrinkle them fast enough. I didn’t want her to think I was upset with her. She stood in the hallway looking at me with those big, beautiful, green eyes. I watched her quickly scan my body and for a minute I felt something. Chemistry maybe. I know women, and right now the way she was looking at me told me she found me attractive. I raised an eyebrow while she continued to damn near drink me in. This girl was too fucking cute. Was it weird I wanted to grab her and kiss her right then? The thought was too silly to entertain.
The Silver Lining Page 2