Prelude
In the words of the Fresh Prince of BEL AIR, this is a story all about how my life was turned upside down. Only I’m not from BEL AIR California. I reside in Olympia Fields, Illinois and my name is Vivian Fowler.
People say I resemble the actress Wendy Raquel Robinson from the Steve Harvey show. I usually get called out when I’m going through the airport. Someone always hollers, waves their hand at me and says, ‘Hey Ms. Grier, where’s Steve.’ I just smile with a shrug of the shoulders and keep it moving.
Now, I’d like to tell you a little more about me. I’m 39, single, confident and successful. I own a ten chair beauty salon in downtown Chicago, which I named, Simply Beautiful. Only six of the chairs have been filled because I’m particular about whom I want working in my salon.
My style of transportation is a baby blue Lexus. I hold the deed to the two houses my daddy left me. The one I live in is a deep crimson red, ranch style home. I share it with my two precious poodles Darling and Darren. The house next door I rent it to my best friend Jennifer Washington and her husband, Charles.
Coincidentally Jennifer favors Angela Bassett. Seriously, it’s uncanny that we both resemble actresses, but we do. Jennifer lets it go to her head.
Short story, one day we were taking a plane to the Bahamas. After we boarded, a middle aged white lady who was already seated became ecstatic when she saw Jennifer moving down the aisle. ‘Oh my...Oh my!’ she exclaimed and clapping her hands to her face. ‘Angela Bassett is on this flight? Mrs. Bassett I’m a big fan. Can I have your autograph?’ That’s when Jennifer would go into trip mode and pretend to be Angela. She actually stole a line from the movie, What’s Love Got To Do With It. She said, ‘sure, now that I finally got away from Ike.’ The woman was thrilled, nearly climbing over the man sitting next to her to get the autograph. She was blown away until on her way back to her seat and looking at the T-shirt saw that it was signed, Jennifer Washington. She turned and said, ‘This doesn’t say Angela Bassett.’ Jennifer about to take her seat on the aisle said, ‘I know...we just look alike.’ The woman returned to her seat mad that she had been fooled.
Now what I want to tell you is how I was tricked; how I got caught up in Mr. Toni Gentry’s web. I’d like to believe as good looking and amusing he was to be with, that I wasn’t the first woman to fall for his trickery.
It was 2012, mid-June and a gorgeous day. I had just exited One Stop Grocers in Olympia Fields. There I was walking to my car with two brown grocery bags filled to the rim when half way there the weight of one of the bags threatened to fall to the ground. My black leather shoulder bag was moving slowly down my arm. I tried to shift the bag back into the crease of my arm.
“Whoa... let me help you with those bags,” a gentle voice said.
The quick scoop of medium brown slim hands brought a halt to my groceries slipping from my embrace. Another second and the bag would have crashed to the ground.
“Do you mind?” he said securing the bag in his arm.
I must say that offer to help was definitely on time. A couple of more steps and the dinner I planned, smothered pork chop and fresh broccoli and cheese, would have been a meal for the birds hovering above. I was also thankful he was there because I wasn’t in the mood to go back into the store in search of items I just purchased.
“I would hate for all your goodies to end up on the ground,” he politely added.
I took a quick glance at my rescuer that had a smile that was quickly stored in my memory. Talking about a knight in shining armor was what I wanted to say to him, but instead said, “Thank you. I appreciate you helping me,” blushing a bit.
Toni’s charm was on full display waltzing me away as if I was Cinderella. I looked at him again then away from what was now gazing eyes at me.
“I’m not trying to come on to you, but you have the most striking eyes. Has anyone ever told you that you favor that actress...,” he expressed when I politely cut him off, putting my hand up with a partial smile.
“Yes, many times,” and then it came again, that tender smile. I felt myself gaze at him then quickly shifted my look down into my bag. “Thank you, if you don’t mind I’m just a little ways from my car.”
I then thought my goodness he’s good-looking and began walking alongside him.
As we approached the rear of my Lexus I pushed the red button on my cars remote to open the trunk, which indicated to him which car was mine. We stopped at the opened trunk and I placed my bag inside. As he placed the other bag inside, he took a quick inventory of its contents.
“It looks like I might have saved your husband from having little rocks embedded in his pork chops.”
I gave him a sly look prying into my marital status. He probably took notice that I wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. I pushed the close button on my remote for the trunk.
“Okay, I guess you figured out I was probing. What can I say, you’re beautiful. You can’t blame me for wanting to know if you’re attached to anyone.”
I respected his honesty that he was prying. So I decided to open up a bit. “I’m not married.” I then moved around him in a womanly fashion to the driver’s side of my car.
“My name is Toni...Toni Gentry,” he offered and moved over a little to allow me room to open my car door.
“Well, Toni Gentry, I must be on my way and it was a pleasure meeting you.”
I got inside and after fastening my seatbelt pushed the automatic start button. I then hit a button on my side arm panel to let the window down.
“Vivian,” I said with a concise smile, and extended my hand out of the window to him. He gently shook my hand placing his left hand over both our hands.
“Thanks again for helping me with my bag,” I said and slowly retrieved my hand from his affectionate cuddle.
“It truly was my pleasure,” he softly said and looking as if he couldn’t take his eyes off me.
I couldn’t help but take in a full measurement of the lean physique before me. I almost felt I would be missing out on something if I didn’t; maybe an opportunity to get to know someone worthy of my time.
I’d say about 5’6” and 165 pounds, which fell under my desire in a man. His light brown complexion was nearly blemished free. His eyes were soft looking and his lips were thin but definitely kissable. He didn’t have any facial hair with the exception of light sideburns and nice thin eyebrows. Looking a little deeper at him, a little lipstick and eyeliner, hell, he could almost pass for female. As long as he wasn’t gay I could deal with his cross of manly and womanly looks. Toni also had on black slacks and a black silk shirt. His shoes looked expensive and his dreadlocks were a mixture of blond and black.
To sum Toni up, he was a delectable looking man.
I must have drifted longer than I thought because Toni snapped me out of my inspection of him.
“Is there a chance we can meet again?” he asked.
“I’m...not sure about that.”
Even after he passed inspection I was a bit reluctant to opening myself up further to him. Probably because I’ve grown content being alone. Mr. Chauncey Lockwood was nearly three years ago. After our separation I spent more time at my salon and at home.
“Are you seeing someone?” he then inquired. “I’m just asking hoping if you’re not, that you don’t let this opportunity of us becoming more acquainted slip by.”
No beating around the bush for you. I like that. A man that gets to the point and knows what he wants and goes after it if I might add.
Toni reached into his shirt pocket and removed what I assumed was a business card and extended it to me.
“A little cliché,” Toni said. “But the ball’s in your court. I dare you to call me.”
Cliché yes, impressed, somewhat
and with my eyes cast on him I felt challenged. So I responded with a smirk as I accepted his card. I ended our conversation on that note and shifted gears into reverse. I backed out of the parking space, shifted the gear again and drove away. I looked through my rearview mirror and saw Toni watching me drive away. I exited the parking lot and onto Cicero Ave.
* * *
After putting away all but the food she intended to cook, Vivian poured cooking oil into a pan, turned the pilot on and then reached for the package of round-cut pork chops on top of her granite counter-top.
“I’m going to smother you bad boys and get my groove on with a nice chilled glass of wine,” she said, obviously in a good mood.
She rinsed off the pork chops and laid them on a glass square plate, rotated the twenty holder season rack on the counter until she spotted the poultry and steak seasonings. She sprinkled a little on the pork chops and then flipped them over and gave a little dash of seasoning to the other side. She then coated them in a mixture of flour and peppered cornmeal.
“I’m going to have me some broccoli and carrots,” she told herself as she opened one of the double doors of her stainless steel refrigerator for butter.
Just seconds after she laid the pork chops in the hot oil and placed a lid over the vegetables the door bell rang. She glanced at the pilots under both pots, before heading off down the three steps and into the living room to answer the door.
Assuming it was her best friend, Jennifer, she opened the door without asking who it was.
Vivian was shocked at the person on her step dressed homely and looking at her with a cold stare and a toothpick sticking out of his mouth.
“Vernon?” she quizzed certain it was him, but sounding as if she was unsure.
Vivian hadn’t seen her half brother since the passing of their father four years ago. He died from lung cancer. Vernon, who had been named after their father had lived next door in the house Vivian rents to her friend.
Vivian’s father made it clear that he had no plans on moving because he had a short term relationship with his neighbor before they became a family. Vivian didn’t care that her father’s old flame and son lived next door because she liked that she had a sibling, though it did at times unsettle her mother.
Vivian and her mother learned their father owned the house at the reading of the Will. They also discovered that Vernon had been cut from the Will.
Vernon was in his early thirties when he went to his father for financial support. He wanted an auto shop. His father explained to him that he wanted to help him but now was not the time. He had said, ‘Son, I understand you want to be an entrepreneur and I want to help you, but financially I’m not in a position to invest the amount of money you need. I just purchased two more limousines. I can’t afford to give you twenty-five thousand dollars, not right now.’
The rejection infuriated Vernon and he spat, ‘If I was your precious daughter Vivian I’d probably have a chain of auto shops by now!’
Vernon then forged his father’s signature on a twenty-five thousand dollar loan. Vernon’s father was so upset that he contacted the bank. The bank filed fraud and forgery charges against Vernon which resulted in him spending 6 years in prison. Vernon had called Vivian shortly after the funeral when he didn’t hear from her or an attorney. That’s when he learned his father had cut him out of the Will. He was furious, couldn’t believe their father had sliced him from receiving anything. It left a gash filled with envy and hate in his heart.
Vivian turned her nose slightly up at Vernon.
Vernon pushed his hand across his nose and without being asked walked into Vivian’s house.
“What? You don’t want me in your house?” Vernon said. “You abandoned me too.”
Vernon turned and looked mean at her a moment. He was filled with extreme jealousy. “Can a brother get a sit down,” he added and made his way into the living room in black hard top shoes that were scuffed. The jeans he was wearing were dirty and dingy. Vivian couldn’t help but turn her nose up in disgust because Vernon was forty years old and his jeans were half way down his butt. Vernon didn’t care; sat his filthy self down on her sofa crossing one leg over the other making himself at home.
Vivian stunned by Vernon’s tacky appearance and his rude entrance into her home was still standing with her hand gripping the doorknob. She closed her eyes a second and opened them back up. “What brings you here, Vernon?” she asked as calm as she could.
“You plan on shutting the door,” he answered and began looking at the things around him. He then smiled taking in a deep breath. “It smells good than a mug in here, what you cooking.”
Vernon’s smile was then cut short with a withering look at her.
Vivian ignoring his question said, “What do you want Vernon?” and she shut her front door mad with him being in her home. If he thinks I’m going to give him some money, he better think again because that’s not happening.
Vernon’s eyes grew large at her. “What do you mean, what do I want? I came to visit,” and he then clasped his hand behind his head, propping his feet up on her glass cocktail table.
“Vernon, take your feet off my furniture! I don’t know what your problem is,” a now heated Vivian said.
Vernon slowly looked over at her with his mouth twisted and removed his feet from her table.
“What are you saying that I can’t visit unannounced? What...a brother have to call first? In case you didn’t know this house is as much as mine as it is yours. I know the one next door is for sure. How daddy just gone take the house from my mama. I’m his son. He should have left that crib to me or to my mother like he did this one to you.”
Vivian replied with a roll of the eyes. “I need to check on my food,” and she walked pass him turning her nose up. I don’t know why you insist on blaming me. You caused yourself to be cut out of daddy’s Will, coming over here like I owe you something.
“Yeah, you do that, make sure it’s not burned ’cause your brother is hungry,” Vernon responded and giving her the same revolted look. He grumbled, “Folks riding high while I’m down and out, that’s some shit...I will get mine.” He then spoke in a tone his sister could hear him. “Man it smells good up in here. I’ll take one of them poke chops on my way out.”
Vernon again started observing the things around him. Her six piece living room set, the beige plush carpet, the mini stereo system on the bottom shelf of a deep brown beautifully carved television stand, which held a forty-six inch HD television.
“They are called pork chops,” Vivian said staring at Vernon from the kitchen, vexed by his presence.
“Whatever,” he replied just as annoyed. “What I really need are a few bucks.”
Vivian not paying attention to the food cooking was looking furious at Vernon. His one minute intervals of calm to talking angry had made her uneasy. She turned the burners off under the skillet anticipating a showdown with her brother. She went down the couple steps walking past Vernon from behind and down the hall in the direction of her bedroom. Whatever crack house you just came from you’ll be going back empty handed. I’m not giving you a dime. She entered her bedroom as quickly as she exited; headed back to the living room where she stood with her arms crossed a distance away from Vernon.
“This is the last time I’m going to ask you, Vernon. What do you want?” she said with a solid gawk at him.
Vernon’s eyes staggered over to Vivian. “What do I want? Why the fuck you say it like that. A brother just dropped by to see how you doing. It’s not like I have a home you can stop by and visit me at. I know I look a little, what the hell word I’m looking for, unadorned, but I’ll be back on my feet. You can bet on that and to answer your question. You know why the hell I’m here.”
“One, I’d appreciate if you extend to me the same respect I give you and cease with your profanity. Two, I’ll ask you again. Why are you here?”
“You went to college. What, did you forget how to add and subtract. Let me help you,” he
said and started explaining with his hands. “One man and two ladies equal two children. One man got business and a lot of damn money equals when you die, things get dissected. You got your portion now I want mine,” he answered with the same broaden eyes.
“You need to leave,” and Vivian started walking over to her front door.
“I need to leave. Why does everybody have to give me a hard time? So I messed up, but its daddy’s fault.” Vernon’s anger had him moving to the edge of the sofa to stress his point. “Daddy knows he could have paid that loan off and everything would have been straight. I fault him for the time I spent in prison. What kind of father rats on his son?”
“Vernon you forged daddy’s signature and your mothers! It could have been worse had she pressed charges against you, too.”
“I know all that! I paid my debt and he still cut me out of the Will. I’m his son,” he said with a couple pounds to his chest, “his only son. He gave me his name and he didn’t leave me shit!”
“That is not my fault, Vernon!”
Vernon eyes grew wide. “I didn’t say it was your fault!”
Vivian then took a deep breath. She didn’t want to get into a shouting match with Vernon knowing it would only make him madder to probably doing something violent.
“I’m asking you nicely to leave, Vernon.”
“So it’s like that,” and he began to rise from the sofa but lost his balance and fell back down on it. “Damn, I lost my balance. But that’s alright, that’s alright,” he said standing up. “Just remember he owes me and he left everything to you and yours.” He then placed his hands on his hips and tilted his head to the side some. “Whatever happened to caring and loving for your family, despite them being messed up? I made a mistake that he took to his grave. I come to you for vindication and this is the love I get.” Vernon sealed his lips tight and pointed his finger at his sister. “If I was you, I’d keep my door and windows closed and locked,” he warned her.
“If you’re trying to intimidate me Vernon, it’s not working,” and Vivian slid her hands into the pockets of her baby blue sweat top with her nostrils flared at him and his threat. She had also slid her finger into the trigger of the 32 automatic she had placed inside when she went into her bedroom. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt Vernon but she knew she would have to defend herself if he became physically aggressive.
Trickery & Envy Page 1