Microsoft Word - TheEx-FactorFinal.docx

Home > Nonfiction > Microsoft Word - TheEx-FactorFinal.docx > Page 11
Microsoft Word - TheEx-FactorFinal.docx Page 11

by Unknown


  of jumping right into it like before. I want things to be different between us. I don’t want to give you a reason to leave nor do I want to push you away ever again.”

  “I won’t ever leave you,” Mariana sniffled.

  “And I won’t ever leave you,” Scott promised. “But I want us to take it slow this time.”

  “Slow?” She looked up at him.

  “Slow-ish,” he gave a soft chuckle and she smiled. “As slow as we can go knowing us.”

  “I like that,” she spoke softly.

  “Good. We have a lot to do.” Scott looked over at the package from Sinsenational.

  “There are toys you want to show me.”

  “That can wait until after supper!” Mariana said.

  “Awe!” Scott pouted.

  “After supper!” She declared. “I’m sure you’re ready now but I think it’ll be better after supper tonight. I have a feeling once you’re done meeting with your family, you might need to fuck the aggression out.”

  Scott nodded. “I agree with that.” He received a call on his cell phone. “I need to get this, baby, just a sec. Hey man, what’s up? I’m still in Atlanta until tomorrow morning, what can I do for you? Oh yeah, it’s her birthday coming up soon, isn’t it? Sure thing. Set up something with Elissa and let’s do lunch this week. Talk to you later, bro.”

  “Who was that?”

  “That’s my friend Bobby. He and his wife, Samantha, are throwing a huge milestone birthday for their daughter, Beauty, and he wants me to help with the promotion so we’re going to discuss details when I get back.” Scott replied. “But I don’t care about that now.” He cupped Mariana’s face within his hands and kissed her, gently sucking on her bottom lip. “Are we good now?”

  “We’re good, honey.” She smiled. “Now we can get ready for supper!”

  “Oh yeah,” Scott didn’t attempt to hide his anxiety, “supper.”

  Six

  There was something just so wonderful about seeing them together again.

  Scott had brought home many girlfriends over the years. Girlfriends? No, they were not girlfriends. In fact, Deborah Reed wasn’t sure what she could call them other than whores. She often wondered if that was Scott’s intention; bringing home the worst possible type because he knew she wouldn’t approve.

  It’d been years since he last brought home Mariana and Deborah missed her terribly. She was youthful, pretty, maybe a tad too skinny for her taste, but most importantly, she was perfect for Scott. She brought out his youthfulness while he brought out her seriousness.

  She did something no other woman had ever done – bore him a child – and probably something no other woman would.

  They were yin and yang. All Deborah needed was the two of them to come to their senses and make it official. There was no point to continue to live in sin.

  “You’re going to squeeze the life out of me, Mother,” Scott breathed.

  Deborah grabbed onto her youngest child and held him even tighter. He only came home twice a year, though she was going to press him to do it every few months. She didn’t like that FaceTime thing or the Skype whatever. Those things were nice but she couldn’t hold him like she wanted to. “I just miss my boy,” she nodded.

  Scott wrapped his arms around his mother. She no longer tried to hide the silver hair and embraced it. Her blue eyes twinkled with delight. And her Southern twang echoed throughout the home.

  No matter how frustrated she made him, deep down Scott knew he was a Mama’s Boy and was damn proud of it. He bankrolled her lifestyle so she didn’t have to work anymore and made sure she had an upgraded car every two years. Under Scott’s influence, Deborah and her new husband, Tim, traveled the world. They just came back from India and were about to go on an African safari soon.

  “I miss you, too, Mother.” He commented.

  Deborah finally pulled away. Scott still sported that beard she didn’t quite like but got used to it. “You could use a good shave,” she rubbed his cheek.

  Scott playfully brushed his mother’s hands away. “My beard is fine, Mother.”

  Deborah pinched Scott’s waist. Once again, she couldn’t feel a single ounce of fat on him. “We’re having smothered pork chops, fried chicken, fried okra, baked macaroni and cheese, and red velvet cake for dessert. There’s plenty of pop and sweet iced tea.”

  “I got the message,” Scott smiled.

  “Good, and I hope you eat it.” Deborah then turned to Mariana. She rushed over to her and gave her a big hug. “Mari, it’s so good to see you again! I missed you so much!”

  “It’s great to see you, too, Deborah.” Mariana hugged her back. No matter whatever went on between her and Scott, Deborah always supported her.

  “Now, I’m not going to comment on a woman’s size because it’s uncouth and I’m trying to keep the devil at bay, but I forgot to tell Scott I also made homemade cream cheese mashed potatoes. It’s one of his favorites.” Deborah winked. “So, I want you to have a lot to eat.” She winked again.

  “I will, Deborah,” Mariana promised, “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

  “Is that my baby brother I see?” Christine’s voice boomed.

  “Oh, maybe for another reason,” Mariana quietly said so no one would hear.

  Christine rushed up to Scott and jumped in his arms as he twirled her around. Despite the siblings’ sometimes-acrimonious relationship, they remained close. They only had each other and that was how it would always be. “It’s great to see you, Firecracker.” He called her the family nickname. “Where are my nieces?”

  “Uncle Scott!” 18-month old Azusa ran to him and Scott scooped her up.

  “Hey, Lily!” He called her the meaning of her name. “Have you been a good girl?”

  “Yep!” She wrapped her arms around him.

  “That’s good! I have a gift for you.” He grinned. “Where’s your little sister?”

  “She’s right here, man!” Christine’s husband, Hassan, came holding the car seat that carried a sleeping four-month old, Azhara Grace.

  Scott put Azusa down and rushed over to see his niece. He was blown away at how beautiful she was. She had Hassan’s light brown skin tone but she looked like Christine.

  “She is so beautiful,” Scott commented. “Just gorgeous.”

  “Most chilled and laidback baby ever, man.” Hassan replied. “Couldn’t have asked for a better child.” He looked behind Scott and saw Mariana speak with Deborah. “Mari, huh?

  When did this happen?”

  “It’s very recent,” Scott admitted, “we’re still sorting things out.”

  “You two have played nice long enough,” Hassan chided. “But bro, it’s been three years

  already. How long are you two going to do this?”

  “Not much longer,” Scott glanced over to Mariana, “I’m getting tired of this myself.”

  “I don’t know who’s more patient – you or her. I also don’t know who’s more crazy for putting up with the other for so long.” Hassan chuckled.

  “We’ve come a long way and still have a ways to go but the good news, we’re both in it for the long haul this time.” Scott glanced at Mariana. “Do me a favor, H.”

  “What is it, bro?”

  “Whatever comes out of Mariana’s mouth tonight, don’t take offense to it.” Scott turned back to his brother-in-law. “Just in case.”

  “Scott, I’ve been taunted, given death threats, had the police called on me when someone thought I was planning an attack when I was speaking Arabic to my uncle, who lives in Miami. I have had more than a few people tell me why I need to go back to my country despite the fact I was born here.” Hassan blinked. “I’m sure whatever Mari says tonight it’s because she was provoked. I know how Chris can be.”

  “Okay, bro.” Scott gave a small grin. He hated his family’s reputation couldn’t protect Hassan from racists and bigots. He may not have had the Reed last name but he was considered a member of the family regardless. “Ju
st want it to put it out there.”

  “I appreciate it, bro. I really do. The silver lining in all of this, though?”

  “What’s that?”

  “Your sister finally re-registered as a Democrat.”

  ****

  “I never thought I would see you again,” Scott’s stepmother, Jasmine, commented to Mariana as she carried her son, Scott’s younger brother. A yoga instructor, Jasmine had an aura of serene and happiness whenever she went. “I thought the ship of reconciliation between you two had sailed.”

  “I thought so, too.” Mariana admired 18-month old Tyler. He was a squishy light brown goodness and she just wanted to kiss him all over. “I guess I need to stop assuming.”

  “I heard about your loss and I’m so sorry,” Jasmine replied, “I almost didn’t want to come because I didn’t want things to be uncomfortable for you.”

  “No, it’s okay,” Mariana reassured, “it still hurts but it’s not as bad as before.” There were days Mariana stayed in bed and only got up to use the bathroom, where she cried on

  the toilet. “The happy pills I was prescribed did help a lot in dealing with it. And therapy, too. My therapist was a lifesaver.”

  “How did you come up with your baby’s name?” Jasmine asked. “Please tell me to shut up if I’m being rude.”

  “You’re not being rude at all! I actually like talking about him.” Mariana nodded and Jasmine smiled. “We nicknamed him Skipper because that’s Scott’s nickname from his dad. So, I decided to keep it as Skipper. I don’t visit him as much as I used to but I don’t know if Scott ever has.”

  “He does,” Jasmine revealed, “he’s at his gravesite at least once a month.”

  Mariana felt her eyes water. For the longest time she thought Scott didn’t care about their baby and he was silently visiting him. “I-I-I didn’t know that.”

  “He doesn’t like to talk about it. I only know of it because of what Andrew told me.”

  Jasmine’s voice was smooth as velvet, “Andrew suggested to Scott to see a therapist to deal with his issues and it seems to be working. I’m sure it’s not just the sudden loss of a child but also with family issues from the past. He definitely doesn’t like to talk about his personal life anymore, not that he ever has. I think the loss hardened him in some areas but lightened him up in others. He seems lighter now, don’t you think?”

  Mariana realized what the change in Scott was. She couldn’t explain it nor did she want to ask. He’d been steadily working on himself to improve, maybe not for her but definitely for himself, which was more important. “He does,” she grinned, “but there’s the other thing that kept us apart.”

  “Oh?” Jasmine held Mariana’s gaze. “What is that?”

  “You know I dated Brother Anthony after I broke up with Bernard?”

  “Oh yes,” Jasmine tightened her lips. Mariana dated a member of the Nation of Islam.

  She only knew because of Scott’s visceral reaction by dating one of Christine’s friends.

  “What about him?”

  “Despite his faults, and there were many of them, he did bring up a good point,” Mariana stated. “White people really don’t care about Black issues. They love Black culture, not Black people.”

  “That might be true for most,” Jasmine replied, “but Andrew and Scott are a different breed of men.”

  “Because they like to drink Hennessey and listen to soul music doesn’t make them that much different,” Mariana argued.

  Jasmine wiped Tyler’s mouth. “Has Scott ever told you where he donates his money to?”

  Mariana softly shook her head. “I never thought to ask.”

  “You’d be surprised,” Jasmine replied, “you’d be very surprised.”

  Mariana waited for a response, though she wasn’t sure if she wanted to hear it. “Okay, are you going to keep me hanging on or nah?”

  “You didn’t hear this from me,” Jasmine looked around to see if anyone listened in,

  “Scott has personally supported 10 Black men going to college over the past several years. Once those 10 graduate, he’ll choose 10 more. It started as a competition between him and Jeff to see how many graduates they can claim they helped put through college.

  It then turned serious once they realized how much they were helping first-generation graduates. He often donates money to many Black causes as well. You can say he’s putting his minor degree in African-American Studies to use. He doesn’t like to talk about it because he doesn’t want to be viewed as some White savior.”

  Mariana was floored. She truly had no idea. She should’ve been surprised by his minor but she really wasn’t. “Wow,” she breathed.

  “Andrew has been very active in the local Black Lives Matter chapter here. He’s also leading a Christian-Muslim coalition with Hassan.” Jasmine smiled. “Just because they don’t talk about it, it doesn’t mean they’re not doing anything. True charity isn’t discussed.”

  Mariana glanced over at Scott. She didn’t think she could love him anymore. “They’re amazing.”

  “Of course, they are. They’re Reeds.” Jasmine bounced her son. “You know he’s coming back, right?”

  “Who’s coming back?” Mariana was confused.

  “Your baby. I believe in reincarnation. He’s going to come back and he’ll be

  unforgettable. He might even be a girl.” She held her hand. “Your baby is coming back.”

  Mariana’s eyes watered again and she quickly wiped the falling tears so they wouldn’t mess up her makeup. “Thank you. I needed to hear this.”

  “You’re welcome!” Jasmine gave Mariana a big hug. “I’m here for you, Mari. Always.”

  “Ladies,” Deborah interrupted, “supper is ready.”

  “Let’s go and have fun tonight.” Jasmine stood up. “This should be entertaining.”

  “Christine is still up to her old tricks, huh?” Mariana asked.

  “Normally, Andrew shuts her down but since you’re here tonight, this might be

  different.” Jasmine glanced at Mariana. “You just might permanently shut her up.”

  ****

  Over supper, the men conversed on sports and politics, while Deborah, Jasmine, and Mariana talked about homeopathic remedies and lifestyle trends. Christine paid more attention in getting her daughters fed than participated in any conversation.

  It all changed, however, with a simple question from her. “So Mari,” Christine began,

  “what are your thoughts on the Sandra Bland case?”

  Almost instantly, the vibe of the room changed and the air was thick with silence and tension. “Lord, here you here go,” Andrew dropped a napkin on the table.

  “What?” Christine justified her questioning as she wiped Azusa’s mouth. “I just want to know what are her thoughts? Am I not allowed to know her thoughts on such a hot-button topic?”

  “She was wrongly pulled over and the circumstances regarding her arrest are

  suspicious,” Mariana answered. “I’ve researched the case and I believe there’s a coverup involved.”

  “But don’t you think had Sandra been polite and did what she was told, all of this could’ve been avoided?” Christine grimaced.

  “You know exactly what you’re doing,” Scott warned before he turned to Hassan.

  “Control your girl.”

  “Well, that’s one way of looking at it but it doesn’t explain how Kindra Chapman, Joyce Curnell, Ralkina Jones, Alexis McGovern, or Raynetta Turner’s deaths.” Mariana held Christine’s gaze.

  Christine shook her head. “Who are they?”

  “The other five Black women who died in similar and suspect circumstances like Ms.

  Bland during the same month,” Mariana’s voice was calm, “so why didn’t you ask about them?”

  Christine scoffed. “I’m just saying if everyone did as they were told, none of this would happen,” she shrugged, “all lives matter.”

  “The phrase that doesn’t pay,” Tim rolled hi
s eyes.

  “You don’t need to get all defensive, Mariana,” Christine ignored her everyone, “if you social justice warriors are going to protest, you need to answer hard questions.”

  Scott slowly turned his head to his sister. He loved her to death but if he could, he would sock her. “Social justice warrior?”

  “I’m a big girl, Scott, I can answer her with a question of my own,” Mariana directed her attention to Christine’s husband, “Hassan, what are your thoughts on the San Bernardino and Orlando mass shootings?”

  Christine gasped and her hands curled up into tiny knots. “How dare you?!” She screamed. “That is the most vile, racist –”

  “Save your faux White tears and liberal guilt,” Mariana dismissed her. “You don’t like Black women despite the fact you’re related to one but you don’t see the problem with how you’re acting despite how your husband is treated on a regular basis. I can go anywhere in the world with very little problems; Hassan cannot say the same. Contrary to what Orange is the New Black might have told you, Black people cannot be racist. Now will you pretty please pass me the macaroni and cheese, do us all a big favor, and have a stadium full of seats!”

  Scott sat back in his chair and smiled at his girlfriend. Oh, he was definitely fucking her that night.

  Seven

  The Nupe Krawl, as some Kappas coined it, was just as fun and exciting as they made it out to be. Mariana and Scott bounced from party to party, mingled with some Kappas and their Silhouettes before heading to another party.

  It was the final night of a weeklong Conclave and everyone wanted to just kick back and enjoy themselves. Mariana met up with Bella and Zerrin once again while Scott, Jeff, and Nick kicked back with some other Brothers.

  “Let’s play a game,” Brother Fletch began, “it’s called, ‘You know you’re a NUPE

  when…’”

  “Aw, shit!” Jeff laughed. “This gonna be good. I’ll start. You know you’re a NUPE when you throw up the yo when you’re hitting it from the back!”

 

‹ Prev