Her boyfriend, Ezekiel “Zeke” Carter, was a handsome, tall and well-built former NFL linebacker who ran a boys and girls club in Harlem. He had ended his career with the Giants and was well known and respected. He drew no salary; as Ezekiel once said, “I lived modestly during my twelve-year career, saved every penny, and am a wealthy Black man with options. I choose to help those who most need it.”
When he finally saw Kalindra’s picture in the Times as the COO and CFO of the St. James Mindwerks, he was stunned and a little hurt that she hadn’t told him everything, as he had her.
“Why? Don’t you trust me? I don’t need your money or your status. I have my own.”
“I’m sorry Zeke, I guess I just wanted you to fall in love with me for me. Money changes people and not in a good way. Are you upset with me for keeping a secret?”
“Let’s talk about this another time. I’m not sure how I feel. Trust is the basis for every relationship that works. If I don’t have your trust, what do I have?”
Things were tense after that. Some air had gone out of their relationship balloon.
At church weeks later, Kalindra wanted to talk. Her relationship with Zeke was going downhill; they saw each other less frequently, and phone calls went straight to voicemail.
“Are we through?”
“Secrets are poison. I’m not sure I can ever trust you to be honest with me again.”
“There are things I can’t discuss with you; undoubtedly, the same applies to you. Your last game plan against the Eagles wasn’t likely a topic for pillow talk.”
“That’s business. This is personal. You obviously don’t know me; you never said a word about any of this. I had to read it in the papers. Your past is your past; mine is mine. I get that. I never inquired about anything that happened before the day we met. What history you want to share is up to you. I was no choirboy; I don’t expect you were a nun. But in getting to know you so I can make important decisions about who I think you are if you’re the one, these only come from a place of honesty and trust. I certainly know a lot more about you now; so does the entire world. Your world, and the press who follow you are not my world. I work quietly, humbly doing God’s work. I don’t need fame or fortune. God has blessed me, and it is His will that I do His work without the need for fame or notoriety. You’ve read the Bible; you know what I mean. I don’t think this is your way. It is, however, mine.”
“It’s work publicity, and it’s my job.”
“I know that. But look yourself up on the internet. Your past relationships are everywhere, as is the scandal along with it. Can you truly say you will miss the attention and adulation? The thrill of the press clippings? I don’t want to wake up one morning to a note that you’ve moved on to your next affair. If you couldn’t be honest about who you are after months of being with me, will you ever show me who you really are?”
“Do you believe that’s how I feel about you?”
“No. But I understand the poison that fame brings. You and Adam St. James are growing a behemoth and one that is admirable for all the good works you do. But there will be early mornings, collegial lunches, travel, and client dinners and social engagements. By my calculation, I’ll see you for about an hour a day, and maybe only a day or two a week. I’m sorry Kalindra, as much as I love you, I won’t be Mr. Kalindra Wilson, the obligatory framed photo on your desk complimenting all your business and educational success. I wish it weren’t so. But we both know it is.”
“You’re saying we’re through all because of this extraneous nonsense? No chance to find our way to something that satisfies what we both need. Maybe I was wrong. I thought you were stronger than this: wiser, a fighter. Disappointment is a two-way street. Judging me doesn’t suit you, Zeke. That’s in Scripture too.”
Weeks went by without any communication from either side.
Then, at church, the two bumped into each other, and Kalindra asked if Zeke had time for coffee after service.
“I’ve missed you and thought about everything you said. And you’re right.”
“I’ve missed you too and must admit that I am in pain over what I said. But we can’t change the world nor our circumstances. I wish we could. Nothing’s changed except the presence of pain.”
“What if you’re wrong about that? What if we could?”
“I would praise the Lord our God for that miracle. There is nothing I want more than to be together with you again. I feel like my heart was cut in half. I’d like the other half back where it belongs.”
“When I came back to work after our talk, I was a mess. Couldn’t think, canceled all my meetings and trips and told Adam I was considering resigning. I love my job, but I love you more.”
“I would never ask you to do that. Ever. There would be resentment, and I would seem like the Philistine who made you quit your career to follow my dream. It’s out of the question.”
“That’s what Adam said too. So, he thought of a way to keep me working and keep me happy with you. It may involve a little deception, but he didn’t think our Lord would mind terribly if it kept us united – and married.”
“I’m listening.”
“First, he’ll reduce my workload, travel, business, and social engagements by well more than half. I’ll be stationed only in New York. He’ll hire more staff to help me do my work, and I’ll have to let go of my issues with delegation. He said I need to do that anyway. You, we, will have no social responsibilities for Mindwerks, and I’ll step down as COO and CFO, but in name only. That way I’ll not be sought for interviews. I will be the nominal head of “Special Projects,” super-secret and no public press.”
“I can’t believe it.”
“There’s more. He says the sooner we marry, the sooner we can keep our lives quiet and private - permanently. That way snoopy reporters will lose interest in time. We’ll be well out of the news cycle.”
“I don’t mind this at all.”
“He said he would support your efforts with your youth ministry and endow it. Says he knows, and I don’t know how that you have been dipping into your savings to support your kids. He’ll replace those funds for you and make sure that kids who need help get it; your scholarship fund is no longer at your personal expense. He agrees with you that the Bible teaches us to do good works without expecting to be praised publicly.”
“He’s devout?”
“He is, but he plays for the other team.”
“Catholic?”
“Very.”
“Any chance we can get him to our service some Sunday?”
“I’ll ask. He goes to early Mass, like 6:30 in the morning, but I might convince him to come to our 11:00 o’clock service – if you preach.”
“Done. He’ll be the only white guy in attendance. People will notice.”
“He says he likes a challenge, and that the ladies will love him, and the men will come around eventually. He knows his Scripture and will trade passages, Old and New Testament. Says he’s undefeated.”
“Mrs. Johnson might take exception, but if he wants a challenge, we can give him one.”
“He’s charming, just so that you know. And, one more thing. He’s a sweet man, but wicked dangerous. He is not a man to be trifled with.”
“Why is he doing this?”
“Says if you don’t hurry up and marry me, he will. Says you’re on the clock.”
Chapter 4
Adam arrived at Mama Luigi’s in Brooklyn on time precisely at 6:30 for dinner with Mom and Pops. He walked into the restaurant, just now filling up for the dinner crowd. Tony, one of the owners and a close friend, as well as his wife Angie and their daughter Lola, were all anxious to find out more about Adam’s visitors. Were they his birth mother and father? He had spoken of Edward and Anna often, as well as his “other parents,” Maria and Pops, with whom he was as close as his birth parents. There was a fourth reservation, which Lola and her parents’ thought was his ex, the woman he seldom mentioned,
Misti Alarcon.
Lola was interested too and wanted to see this other woman, the woman who had broken Adam’s heart and shattered it into a million pieces. Family or not, parents or not, if Misti were there, Lola would give her a big chunk of her mind and didn’t care who was listening. Most customers in the restaurant were locals, knew the Romanos as well as Lola’s temper and wild ways. That Adam had brought her around and made a lady of her, cleaned up her constant cursing and loved her madly was the miracle Lola’s parents had prayed for all their adult lives. Adam dragged Lola to Mass every Sunday, celebrated her Saints’ day and waited outside while she went to confession. They attended services together as a family every Sunday and every Holy day.
Lola pushed back hard, “You can’t bully me forever. I’m not your property.”
“No, but if we are to marry, we’ll have to agree to certain rules of the household.”
“Your rules, I suppose. Always the men’s rules. Such bullshit.”
“Your rules too. And I’m not a bully. I love you. The day you wake up and let go of your fears and finally believe I’m the one you really want, and your catting around days are over, I’ll pop the question then we’ll have a lovely home with kids and dogs. On Long Island.”
“I don’t cat around anymore; I’m faithful to you. You know that. Not sure why; your sexual skills are way below average, at best. And, what if I don’t want kids?”
“Then you, a nice Italian girl, will explain to your parents why you’re breaking their hearts. I’ll be on their side, but pretending to support you. And, just so we’re clear, I want you any way you want to be with me. We can have pet iguanas instead of kids if that’s what you want.”
“You mock me.”
“Of course I do. Who else is in the room?”
“I hate you.”
“No, you love me. Who else would put up with such a mean and foul termagant?”
“A what?”
“A foul and overbearing woman. And the woman I love and adore.”
“I don’t trust you.”
“I’ll do that thing you like if you promise to tell me you love me.”
“I don’t need bribes, but I’ll take it. You know I love you and can’t live without you. I just …”
“… have difficulty saying it.”
“You know I do.”
“Say it every day, twice a day and after a while, it won’t even hurt at all.”
“Promise.”
“Pinky swear.”
“Grow up.”
“Never. So, why do we still have our clothes on?”
***
Adam never considered that the death of Carlos had anything to do with who Misti or Carlos were, what they did and what could possibly make them a target. The Alarcon’s were middle-class immigrants who came up from poverty by means of education, hard work and luck. The family inherited an old colonial mansion from a distant, impoverished relation along the Paseo de Montejo in Merida, Mexico, then restored it patiently, year by year to its former glory. The details came from old photos and historical books and diaries detailing the splendor of “La Casa de Alarcon.” It was bed and breakfast, much in demand by Nationals and tourists, with a bridal suite on the top floor.
There was nothing in their history that suggested that anything could merit any kind of multi-generational revenge. But Adam didn’t believe in coincidence and this Curse of the St. James Clan seemed to be nothing more than an invented story to frighten the small children of the St. James family tree into obedience at bedtime. Misti’s disappearance and sudden return to his life were mysterious. She was cagey about the years for which she had no explanation or, at least, would give none. Her life since high school conveniently omitted twelve years that were unaccounted for; likewise, her father’s death was an unsolved murder made to look like an accident. Carlos too had a habit of disappearing and reappearing though, as a cop, Adam thought this was just likely a direct consequence of his chosen line of work.
***
Adam sat down and greeted Maria and Pops warmly. They looked good but older; worn as if the world was no longer right. They smiled, but Maria began crying almost immediately as Adam took a seat. Pops, always favored by Adam, said nothing.
Maria said, “When are you coming home, son. We miss you. We all do. Your father and mother are in tears. It’s been twelve years. Can’t we forget the past, if only for a visit? Surely Misti is far behind you and whatever it was that happened is in the past. Please, Adam. Please do this one small thing for us before it’s too late.”
“Too late for what, Mom?”
“We’re old. We’re not well. The doctors say we have time, but the hourglass is running low. I have cancer; Pops has a heart condition. He’ll undergo surgery when he gets home. I think your Mom and Dad are just dying slowly of a broken heart. You’re their only son — it’s been twelve years. It’s too long to hold a grudge. Please, Adam, forgive us and come back to your home. We will bury the past and then let you go if that is your wish.”
“And Misti?”
“She wants to make amends. To say how sorry she is, to ask you to forgive her. She wants to be your friend again, maybe not like it was, but better than this war between the two of you that divides the family.”
“Not sure what you mean Mom? When I left everyone sided with Misti, not me. You, Pops, my Mom and Dad, even Rod and Cindy. You, all of you, deserted me as if I was the one responsible for what happened that night. Not a word. Cindy was going behind my back. No explanation, just goodbye and good luck. Well, I made my own luck, and I didn’t need any of you to become successful. And where did Misti get the money to run away? Had to be you and my Mom and Dad.”
“It was,” said a woman’s voice. “And it was all the years I was on the run.”
It was Misti.
“Another piece of treachery solved.” Then, sarcastically, Adam asked, “Did you keep an accurate count?”
Agustin asked, “A count of what?”
“All the men she wanted to fuck. The men who she needed to compare to my paltry skills. I wasn’t enough. She needed more. Well, did you have your fill?”
Misti took a seat.
“My life after that night is none of your concern. And yours is none of mine.”
“Right you are. So, why are you here then? I understand you think you’re some sort of badass killer who threatened to destroy my company buildings and Labs. In case you didn’t know, Pops, my colleague and I had to pull a gun on her for our own protection. Why are you three here? You’re all lying. Pops has no heart condition, Mom; you don’t have cancer and this bullshit about Misti, Dad and me being in danger is a load of crap.”
As voices got louder and attracted attention, Lola and her parents came over to calm the table as they had done many times before when mouth and brain intersected with too much alcohol. Alcohol was not involved this time, but loud voices seemed to contradict the appearance of civility.
“Adam, please, your manners,” said Mr. Romano. “You haven’t introduced your family to us.”
“Sorry, Papa. This is my Mom, Maria Suarez, my Pops, Agustin Suarez, and their friend Misti Alarcon. May I introduce you to Tony and Angie Romano and this gorgeous hunk of womanly perfection is their daughter Lola. Lola is also my girlfriend and main squeeze, and maybe it is time to announce my intentions to the world. Our world anyway.”
Lola looked at Adam suspiciously.
“Tonight, I am asking my girl to marry me. I’ve hidden the rock in your lingerie drawer, under that bra I like. I can retrieve it for you, but if you do instead, it means the answer is finally yes.”
Lola said, “Don’t anyone move. I’ll be right back.”
Adam shouted as Lola flew away, “Don’t open it until you get back.”
Lola was back in a flash; her room and the Romano home was over the restaurant, so speed was baked in.
Mrs. Romano said, “Open it. Our prayers have finally beeb a
nswered. Let’s see.”
Lola opened it and took a deep breath and said, “It’s gorgeous. And so big. Maybe I’ll need a wheelbarrow to prevent me from dragging a hand.”
“Well, is it a yes?”
“No. It’s hell yes!”
“Well, as you three can see I’m engaged, and it looks like I won’t be able to visit your cabal in Canada any time soon. A tip for next time: don’t lie.”
“Lies or not, you’re an idiot, Adam,” said Misti. “Come home before it’s too late.”
“Heart attack, cancer, clandestine assassins? Last time it was a betrayal. Now it’s just lies and deception. Go home, I neither need nor want you as a family. You’ll not get a third chance at treachery.”
Misti started to say something, but Lola interrupted.
“You’ve caused enough trouble for one day, Ms. Alarcon. And your friends, well they just admitted they lied about why they’re here. I don’t know why you’re here, and I don’t think Adam does either. He’s still in pain from the way you two ended all those years ago; it was why we had so much trouble connecting. He was bitten badly once, and I was bitten a hundred times. Trust comes slowly for us both, but we both finally got there. Be kind for once and leave us to our lives. We’re happy here; we’re planning for kids and dogs in some ridiculous suburban town out on Long Island, commuting into the city like normal folk. I’m no prize. Apparently, I’m a termagant, whatever that means, but I’m his termagant, and I will work hard every day to make him happy. I’m sure, I hope, that you three want only what’s best for Adam. But leave, please. There’s nothing more to discuss. If there is any real danger, you should tell him here and now. He doesn’t need to leave his family, this family who loves and adores everything about him.”
Misti said, “Fair enough. But don’t say we didn’t warn you. There’s danger, and everyone around him shares, or will share, his fate. If he comes back to Barrows Bay, he’ll be safe, and we can work out our problems. But not here. The invitation is open.”
Patsy Murray Page 4