by Tracy Brown
Wes leaned forward. “He don’t have to do shit,” he deadpanned. He glared at Troy.
Troy looked at Vanessa. “You and your mother should step out for a minute. Let me wrap this up here.”
Vanessa didn’t appreciate being dismissed. Still, even she could recognize that things had taken a major turn. She and her mother headed for the kitchen, where they could listen at a safe distance.
Troy sat forward in his seat, his focus on his brother. He looked incredulous. “Why the fuck would you come in here like this? You come in this man’s house and disrespect his family gathering with this bullshit?” His fury was evident as he nearly spat his words at Wes.
Harvey gestured with his hands in surrender. “It’s okay, Troy. It’s fine.” Harvey knew Don well enough to know that the man was a powder keg waiting to go off. He didn’t want this to turn into the real possibility of bloodshed here. Not in his home. Definitely not on Roxy’s expensive Persian rug.
Troy kept staring at his brother. Wes had been envious of him for a long time. At every turn, he looked for ways to undermine Troy’s success and foil his plans. It was a pattern that began when they were kids and escalated in the years after their mother’s death. In the end it had forced their father into a contentious relationship with his own brother. Wes was a tyrant whom Troy was growing sicker of by the minute.
“You’re trying to make me hurt you, Wes. That’s what it is. You’re trying to see how far you can push me before I kill you.”
“Fuck you,” Wes said. “You sitting up here with Harvey Nolan now thinking shit is sweet. So what, now you think you got a clean slate and you and Dad are gonna cut me off? I don’t get no parts of the company now? Like I didn’t put in work all these years and help him keep it all going.”
Troy scoffed. “Yeah. You helped.” His expression said otherwise.
It stung Wes, hearing his brother belittle his contribution to the family. He stared daggers at him. “You ain’t better than me, Troy. With your fucking degrees, your fake-ass girlfriend, and all this bullshit. You ain’t better than me.”
Troy shook his head. “I’m not,” he said. “Never said I was. You were the one that always felt that way. Always projecting your shit onto other people.” He sat back in his seat. “We got the same parents, came up in the same house. Same blood in our veins. The only difference between us are the choices we made.”
Wes sucked his teeth. That wasn’t at all the way he saw it.
“I chose to go to school. Tried to do the right thing, even though I didn’t always succeed. You chose to run around like a fuckin’ ghetto bastard with a point to prove.” Troy looked at his uncle then. He believed with all of his heart that Uncle Don was the man Wes was trying to emulate. Troy was angry with his uncle for not seeing what a poison he had been to Wes over the years.
“You love to play the victim. You fuckin’ bitch! Crying like a little girl in your room. Laying all across the altar at the church and all that shit. You always been a punk.” Wes laughed. “Talking ’bout killing somebody. Nigga, do it.”
Wes stood up. Don did, too. He could see that it was time to go.
Wes pointed in his brother’s face. “Watch. You’re gonna come crawling to me for help just like your father did.”
Troy laughed. Wes was terrified that Troy was going to take the reins of the family business and succeed. Proving everyone right. That Troy was the chosen one and Wes was the fuckup.
“He’s your father, too. And, you don’t ever have to worry about me coming to you for anything. I’ve been getting money for years without your help.”
Harvey watched it all unfold. He had learned a lot here tonight.
He looked at Don. He had known the man for years. Harlem was a small world and Don had a name that rang bells. Fox walked a straighter line. Or so Harvey had believed before this exchange. Still, despite the fact that they operated in different worlds, Harvey respected Don and the power he held in the streets. But they were old men now. Harvey’s thoughts were turning toward the prospect of retirement and grandchildren. Fox’s success at Stuart Mitchell mirrored Harvey’s own. Their children getting married symbolized the prospect of a real legacy. Not some street notoriety that Don was still determined to hold on to after all these years. Harvey and Fox had realized that it was time to pass the torch. Don was deeply in denial.
“When you gonna retire?” Harvey asked.
Don didn’t crack a smile. “I’m not ready for retirement,” he said. “I’ll retire when I’m dead.”
“Not me,” Harvey insisted. “My wife and I are gonna watch Vanessa get married and have some babies. And we’re gonna do our best to make them famous.” He laughed. “We’ve been blessed over the years, Don. Couple of boys from Harlem that made a fortune. I want to stop and enjoy what I worked hard all these years to build. We’re too old to hold grudges.”
“With all due respect,” Wes said, “this is family business. You should keep your mouth shut.”
Harvey glared at the young man. He had always liked Fox’s sons. Obviously, he had more of an affinity for Troy seeing as how he was dating his daughter. But Wes had always been pleasant, although he was a bit of a hothead. Often over the years, Harvey had wondered why Fox didn’t talk about his other son more. Now he was getting his answer in living color.
Troy spoke up. “Y’all should go.”
Uncle Don nodded, and took a step toward the door.
Wes stood there. “Dad wants to run for office. Imagine that. Shame if something happened to fuck that up. Embarrass our poor father after all the time he spent keeping his precious name clean. You know what I’m saying?”
Troy did know. He glanced at Harvey and saw his expression change. The last thing the Nolans wanted was a scandal. Like Fox, their carefully crafted public image was precious to them. Harvey looked truly nervous for the first time since the men had walked in.
“Happy Thanksgiving,” Don said.
Don and Wes walked out, leaving Troy alone to pick up the pieces of his family’s bullshit yet again. Vanessa and Roxy returned from the kitchen.
“What was that about?” Vanessa asked.
“Pride,” Troy answered honestly. “That was all about pride.”
BLACK FRIDAY
Thanksgiving dinner was over, and Crystal and her family had feasted on far too much food and a little too much wine. Aunt Pat had come clean at last about the man she was seeing. His name was Curtis and he had been taking her out to dinner and to cozy cafés where they listened to live bands play. The glow on her face had shined brighter than the candles on the dining-room table.
“I feel a little silly,” she admitted. “Every time I get a minute to myself, I catch myself thinking about him and smiling. I’m a grown-ass woman. I shouldn’t still get like that over some man.”
Destiny and Georgi had shouted her down, insisting that it was fine to feel the way that she did.
“Have fun!” they said.
But Crystal knew exactly how her aunt was feeling. She, too, felt silly every time her thoughts wandered back to Troy. Each time it happened, she snapped herself out of it and focused on her family, the food, anything but him. Still, she found it hard to keep her mind from drifting. He texted her a few times, but otherwise kept his distance. She was grateful for that. Despite the pleasure she found in his arms and in his presence, it was time to get back to reality. She even managed to get some work done, reviewing copy for an upcoming issue while her family busied themselves in the kitchen. Her dad had called collect from prison. And no matter what Georgi had said about only wanting the best for Quincy, her facial expression and body language told another story. She came alive while she talked to him and Crystal smiled at the idea of her parents still holding on to what remained of their love after all these years.
But, at the end of the conversation, Georgi had returned to the same narrative as before.
“Quincy, in just a few more days, you’re walking out of there for good. All these years you�
��ve been away are gonna be behind you. Why would you go right back to the same place it all started?”
Quincy had echoed their daughter’s sentiments, though. He assured his wife that everything was going to be all right.
“I know what I’m doing, Georgi. I told you this is just a stop along the way. I’m coming to get you, baby. Don’t you worry.”
Georgi had accepted that at last, resigning herself to the fact that her husband’s mind was made up. For the time being, at least, he was returning to New York. A place Georgi had vowed to never set foot in again.
Now the dishes had been washed, the food had been put away. It was Friday morning and Crystal was returning to New York, too. She packed her suitcase and got ready to make the drive back to the city. Destiny knocked on her bedroom door.
“Hey.” She entered and sat at the foot of Crystal’s bed. “So, check this out.”
Crystal laughed, already certain that Destiny had a trick up her sleeve.
“I tried on the boots you gave me for my birthday. And they’re cute.” She nodded. “Real cute! But I’m not hitting the red carpet on a day-to-day basis.” She flipped her long weave over her shoulder and struck a pose in the mirror. “Even though I should be. I think I need something a little less fancy.”
“Okay. You want something different?” Crystal stuck the last of her sweaters into her suitcase and zipped it.
Destiny nodded. “Yes. If you don’t mind.”
Crystal shrugged. “I don’t mind at all. You should get what you want.”
“Good!” Destiny said. “Let’s stop by Lord and Taylor when we get back and do a little shopping.”
Crystal’s face lit up. She could use some retail therapy. In fact, that was exactly what she needed to help her stay busy and keep her mind from wandering back to Troy.
“Let’s do it. I want to be out of here in thirty minutes. I’m trying to beat the traffic.”
“I know. I’m already packed.” Destiny winked. She stood up, and headed for the door. “I’ll meet you downstairs.”
Crystal grabbed her bags, took another long look around her old bedroom, then left. She hoisted her luggage down the long black spiral staircase. When she reached the landing, she looked around for Destiny. Her mother was waiting for her instead.
Crystal smiled. “I’m about to get on the road.”
Georgi pulled her into a long hug. She smelled her daughter’s fancy perfume and smoothed her hair as they embraced.
Crystal sighed, relaxing in the comfort of her mother’s arms. She resisted the urge to cry, full to the brim with a cocktail of emotions. So much weight was on her shoulders and she didn’t realize until then how badly she had needed a hug from her mother.
Georgi seemed to sense that as she stepped back. “Come and sit down with me for a minute before you leave.”
Crystal followed her into the living room. The décor in here was as dramatic as Georgi was. The walls, furniture, and accents were all white. A large television was mounted on the far wall and two tall green ficus plants offered the only splashes of color in the room. To Crystal, it had always felt like the design was a subliminal expression of her mother’s motives here in Maryland, in this house. Particularly in the aftermath of Malik’s death. The white seemed to represent Georgi’s desire to purify everything. To cleanse the stain of what had transpired and the trauma of what her family had endured. Crystal saw it as a reminder of her brother’s hospital room. Cold, sterile, and void of life.
She sat on the sofa beside her mother. Georgi looked relaxed and at peace with things for once. It put Crystal at ease as she listened.
“When you were a little girl, you and Destiny used to play together all the time. You would sit for hours doing your dolls’ hair, dressing them up, making up stories. Pat and I used to watch you two and laugh. That was back when we lived in Brooklyn and we used to have card games with Quincy and all his friends.” Georgi got a faraway look in her eyes, remembering the life of the party she had once been. She and Quincy had been on top of the world.
“One time, you and Destiny were playing together and Malik got jealous. He kept coming in with his wrestling figure and interrupting the story y’all were telling. He would make his toy push Destiny’s toy out of the dollhouse window and things like that.”
They both laughed at that.
“After a while, Destiny got sick of it. So she took Malik’s toy and threw it across the room. It hit the wall and the doll’s leg came off. She actually threw it so hard that it was truly broken. One of the pieces broke off and there was no fixing it. Well, Malik was pissed! He threw a fit and it took me a while to get him to calm down. Hours passed. Pat and I thought everything was over. Then when she got ready to take Destiny home and she went looking for her doll, one of its arms were missing. Somebody had chopped that doll’s arm off! Now Destiny was the one crying her eyes out. But Malik swore he didn’t do it. We looked at you. I asked if you cut your cousin’s doll up. You nodded. I asked you why you did it. And you looked me dead in my face.” Georgi chuckled now as she recounted the memory. “You said, ‘She didn’t have to break his toy. So I broke hers. An arm for a leg.’ Pat told me that Destiny cried all the way home. After that, she never challenged Malik again. Everybody knew that you and him stuck together no matter what.”
Crystal smiled. That hadn’t changed, even though he was gone. They were still a team.
“But what I learned is that you have a vengeful spirit.”
Crystal’s smile faded. That wasn’t what she wanted to hear from her mother.
“You’re my baby. No matter how old you get. And I love you. So, I can tell you the truth about yourself.” Georgi sighed. “Ever since Malik died, part of you left, too. You created this … whole different life for yourself. To the point that I see you in the press and I don’t even recognize you anymore. You’re my daughter, my last living child, and I don’t even recognize you anymore.” She shook her head in amazement at that.
Crystal’s gaze settled on the urn sitting on top of a stone pillar in the corner of the room. Malik. Or what remained of him after they were done with him. It was hard to imagine him in there, literally reduced to ashes. The brother she’d known was alive, athletic, tall, and lanky. Not the object full of dust she saw there. She blinked away the tears that pooled in her eyes. The irony was that all of them had been disfigured that night, having to change form and adapt to a new normal.
“You smile, but it’s not always genuine. You laugh, but, if I look closely, I can see the sadness in your eyes. It’s always there. It’s like you feel guilty for enjoying life too much without him here.”
Crystal couldn’t look at her mother, afraid of what she might be seeing now.
“I recognize it because I feel it, too. He was my son. My firstborn child. I was there. I watched them do what they did to him. And part of me died with him, too.”
Crystal remembered the way her mother was when she was younger. Sassy, exuberant, fun. She still had those elements. Only they had been quieted now. She had been brought into submission. That was the worst part of it for Crystal. Seeing her entire family crippled at the hands of another, more powerful one.
“Malik would want us both to live. It’s been ten years since he passed. Twenty-five years since your father went to jail. It’s time for all of us to move on,” Georgi concluded.
Crystal looked at her and prayed that she was done.
“Mommy, you want to know something? You’re right. I have changed since he died. We all have. But, it’s not my own pain that drives me to stay up there in New York and work as hard as I do. It’s coming home and seeing you jump in fear every time you hear gunshots on the TV. It’s hearing you on the phone turning down invitations to parties because you’re afraid to come home at night when the house has been empty for long periods of time.”
Georgi looked away, convicted.
“Honestly, I think about it all the time. What Malik might think of me if he was alive. If he would appro
ve. I’m not sure that he would. I think he was more like you. He would want me to let it go. Sometimes, I’m tempted to do exactly that.”
She thought about the past few days. She had felt more alive than she had in years. Several times she had lost focus.
“And then I talk to Daddy. Locked up for most of his adult life in a cage full of angry and hopeless men. How he had to sit in a cell, helpless and frustrated while his family was destroyed. While his son was killed and his wife was beaten and violated.” She wiped the tears that fell freely now. “He’s coming home now. And he has every right to decide where he wants to go, and what he wants to do after so many years of being ordered around.” She took a breath. “I’m going back to New York, Ma. I’m not there by myself. Destiny lives close by. And Tyson is just a phone call away if I need him. It’s where I belong. It’s where Malik died. It’s where Daddy put his life on the line for us. And it’s where I need to be right now to take back everything the devil stole from our family.”
She stood up. This conversation was over. “I love you. I really have to get going now.”
Georgi rose, too. She followed her to the door, where Destiny had been eavesdropping discreetly.
Crystal looked around. “Where’s Aunt Pat?”
Destiny rolled her eyes. “She’s out having breakfast with her new boo. I already said good-bye to her before she left.”
Crystal giggled and gave her mother a hug. “Please give Aunt Pat my love.”
Georgi nodded. She looked at Destiny. “You two be careful.”
She walked them out, and stood waving at them curbside as they drove away. Every time her daughter left, she wondered if it was the last time she would see her. In a lot of ways it already felt like she hadn’t really seen her in years.
* * *
Crystal and Destiny made it to Lord and Taylor on Fifth Avenue by four o’clock that afternoon. They exchanged the boots Crystal had given her for a new pair, then decided to grab a quick bite to eat at Sarabeth’s Café. They were just about to take their seats when Crystal spotted Vanessa Nolan sitting alone at a table close by. Instinctively, she turned to leave, grabbing Destiny by the arm and pulling her along. But it was too late. Vanessa had already spotted her.