Leaving Philadelphia in an old Mercedes early that morning, Kareem wore a sardonic smile on his face. His Mercedes was a 2010 GLS 550 SUV, but it was August 2011 and it was time for something newer. His spending habits had not been as outrageous as before the pending criminal proceedings. They had matured. Well, he had matured too. He was speeding up I-95N and headed to his Manhattan lair. He had moved from his apartment that had been invaded by the undercover Secret Service Agent who posed as Shimir. Shimir had been trying to take Toi from Kareem and she had the audacity to bring him into their home. In the end, Shimir was resting in peace after he broke into Andre’s Bronx home.
Kareem looked over at Toi who was in the passenger seat reading on her Kindle. He looked at her stomach and smiled, but continued to question her loyalty. It was a bad thing for him to love her so deeply, but not trust her as much as he should. And now she was pregnant. He surmised that marriage was next. It had to be. He was not having a child out of wedlock. That was not for him. That was for the bragging rights of his child. He wanted to give his child the perfect life, and he wanted his baby to be able to say that his/her parents were married when they were conceived was just the beginning of that perfection.
He smiled and asked, “Are you ok?” They were passing the Elizabeth exit at 3:38 a.m.
“I’m fine. I am nervous about this meeting that I have with the New York Knicks. To be brought in as their African-American Community liaison with the ability to do what I’d like with our back children would mean a lot to me.”
“I know, beautiful. I’m sure that they will see that and bring you on board,” he said and sped around a slow driving Saab. He actually disliked SUVs and trucks, but was trying to get the feel of carpooling. He anticipated being the greatest dad in the world. Bill Cosby fictional great. “Let me ask you this,” he said and then rested his hand on Toi’s thigh. “What do you really think about what we have decided to do with respect to Dre?”
Toi continued to touch her Kindle and turned to the next page and seemed to have paid his question no attention. “Kareem, I am going to support you in all that you do, and you know that. I have no real thoughts other than what I learned at your grandmother’s kitchen table.”
“I need you to have thoughts, Toi. This is and always has been about us. This has to go smoothly in order for Dre to get out with as little more time as possible and I don’t join him. The problem is that this dance with the devil could be a ruthless one. I agreed that they could not arrest me for the crimes that they were aware of and they made a list of those crimes, which they outlined in a plea agreement. What about the crimes that they may learn about that I have not agreed too? They are fair game. Them sons of bitches are waiting to find a crime that I didn’t confess to to get me in that box.”
Toi was frozen and did not have much more to add. She just wanted the whole thing to be over. Only one thing concerned her. “If they do find a way around you getting away scott free, what am I supposed to do Mr. Bezel?”
Here the fuck we go, Kareem thought. She was always ultimately concerned with what was going to happen to her. How would the universe affect her? What about me sitting in a jail cell rotting and going crazy like Dre. While the throwing of the shit was all an act. It complimented what my brother had been truly experiencing in that place. I hate for me and I certainly hate it for me. Yet all she is concerned with is herself, which I just don’t get. This has reminded me of the era when I worked at the bank—which I robbed daily—and interned at GQ. During this epoch, I also was spearheading my own high fashion street wear empire. And not only did my girlfriend complain that I was too busy, but she had a romantic affair with an undercover agent who worked for McKenzey. And once again, here she is wondering what the fuck is going to happen to “her” in the event of our arrest and not “us”.
“Foremost, since when do you address me as Mr. Bezel?”
“When I am upset.”
“And you’re upset because?”
“The thought of you leaving me and my child fatherless is a bit much too bear. Do you think I want to take weekly trips to a jail or prison to visit you with a child who needs you out here as his father? No, but I wouldn’t have much choice in the matter.”
“Did you say his?”
“Yes, his. We’re having a baby boy. Two of them. And when did I find out? At the doctor’s when you were out chatting with a Philadelphia lawyer via Skype.”
“That was one time, Toi. I missed one appointment. I thought that you would have a heads up when the doctor would do an ultrasound. You know that I would not have missed that.”
“You should not miss any,” she said, and dug into her Chanel bag. She pulled out ultrasound photographs of the babies.
Did this bitch just hand me pics of my children nearly a week after she had them taken? This bullshit has to stop. “Toi, I know that you’re stressed. I know that these criminal proceedings and the pregnancy has you messed up, but it’s not cool for you to not share with me that I am the father of twins and show me the pics a week later. What kind of shit is that?”
“The kind that you started. I used to beg you to stop what you were doing and you didn’t. Now look at the mess that we’re in.”
Kareem fumbled in his arm rest for $8 to pay to get through the Lincoln Tunnel. He was upset and needed the distraction to understand what she had done, and why? He could not imagine why she would wait a week to tell him that he was having twin boys. “Life is stranger than fiction” was an adage that he did not think would creep into his life because he thought he had it all under control. That revelation was right up there with his night with Antoine. What the fuck is happening to me? Twins? I can’t even be excited because she withheld that information. But why? There has to be something else to this that I am missing.
“I’m going to grab gas. Do you want anything baby?” he asked, and hopped out of the truck. They were two lights away from the tunnel and since gas was considerably cheaper in New Jersey than New York, he had to take advantage of that.
Toi said, “No, my stomach is already turning from the coffee. You know that I don’t need things that will upset my stomach. In fact, please get me a green tea ginger ale.”
Kareem grabbed his cell phone and walked across the gas station lot toward the inside of the mini-mart. He told the gas station attendant to fill-up his tank. That was the one thing that he liked about New Jersey. They had gas attendants who had to pump the gas, it was the law. Inside the store, Kareem decided that he wanted to ruffle some feathers. Hell, his were plucked, so he wanted to transfer that to the next man. He pulled out his cell and called Antoine. Kareem was prepared to shake up the man’s night.