I lay awake in bed thinking. The weekend was so long that it seemed as if Monday would never get here. My mother got fucked and wasted the entire weekend, in no particular order. Lucia took me to visit Sabrina’s grave and then we had dinner. Not being in much of a writing mood, I allowed myself to catch up with Lucia, dance, and listen to music all weekend.
Important phone calls will take up most of my day. I made the ultimate decision to walk away from the Carmen situation and redirected my focus on myself. Not saying anything to her at all is my best bet, because I know it’ll hurt her to the core and she’ll come looking for me. Me knowing her; I know she’s questioned why I haven’t called her back. I just hope she’ll someday be able to get over me and move on, rather sooner than later. Will me not telling her hurt just as badly? I question myself and then shake it off. A morning jog will help me get my mind off things; something I haven’t done in what seems like forever.
After I’m dressed, I go through the main house to let Lucia know I’m headed out. She’s cooking breakfast when I enter. “Up early, me see,” she says standing over a skillet of bacon. “Misses say call she at work when you wake up.”
“I’m on my way out for a run. I will when I get back.” I pick up a water and head towards the front door. Sam is sitting on the sofa on his phone. He sees me and ends his conversation. “No work today?” I ask him sarcastically.
“Yes, I’ll be going in later,” he explains as he stands to walk towards me.
Before he gets too close, I say, “Oh well, have a wonderful day,” and walk straight out the door. He calls my name, but I ignore him and start jogging to the end of the street to take the path to the beach. The sound of nature is the replacement of music since I’ve yet downloaded any on this new phone. When I get to the end of the street and turn down the path, I notice how there are very few joggers out, which is abnormal for a Monday morning. The few people give me an eerie feeling that I ignore and take off jogging, anyway. A runner passes every so often, leaving me on the beach alone, mostly. I keep the same pace the entire time as I reflect on being home. I sure miss this scenery. Living in the city is cool, but I like to enjoy the beach all year round. In Chicago, the beach is only fun for two months during the summer. After that, the breeze from the lake froze the hell out of me. I wonder what everybody is up to back at school. I wonder if Carmen has tried to reach me. She’s probably moved on. If she really loved me like she say she did, she would find me. Is it weird that I don’t want to reach out to her, but I want her to look for me? Maybe I should just let even the thought of her go all together… which is so much easier said than done. I wonder if Skylar is still being the whore she is. Once a whore, always a whore because you can never turn a whore into a housewife.
Another jogger passes, and I’m distracted by the familiarity of the individual. Gosh, that guy sure looks like someone I know. He looked like Malik. Only difference is this guy has facial hair. Malik doesn’t have facial hair. Hell, he looks like he hasn’t even hit puberty yet. My assumptions cause me to believe that my mind is playing tricks on me until I’m being grabbed from behind and told not to say a word. The person leads me to a beach house not even fifty feet from the beach with their hand covering my mouth. Once in, they put tape over it, tie my hands behind my back, sit me on the couch, and again tell me not to think about getting up. I still don’t know who it is. Every time I try to look back, they push my head forward. Finally, they come around to the front of me and it’s Malik. I knew I wasn’t fucking crazy; I think to myself as I kick the shit out of him. “Mm! Mm!” I try yelling through the tape.
“Listen, I will not hurt you. I need to talk to you and this is the only way I know you’ll listen. I tried telling you everything back in Chicago, but your girlfriend came to your rescue. Yes, I can admit the way I went about things were wrong, but I was only doing what they paid me to do. Now it seems as if things are getting way out of hand, and it’s no longer worth the money. I’ll start from the beginning. Once I’m done, I’ll untie you and take the tape off, but not a minute before, because you talk too damn much and I need to say what it is I have to say.” He places a chair in front of me, sits, and crosses his legs. “Years ago, your mother hired me to spy on your father, and you father hired me to spy on your mother. Your father thought your mother was cheating and your mother thought your father was not only cheating too, but was gay. Well, they both turned out to be right, but what your mother didn’t know is that your father and I were lovers well before she hired me. Your mother then became attracted to me, but your father didn’t know this. For their anniversary, your father wanted to see how she would react to a threesome and I was… let’s say ‘the chosen one’. That one night led to a relationship that your mother, father, and myself had for many years, until he went to prison for the incident with your sister. Even though your father is away, we still have a relationship, but I do what I want until he comes home. For a while, you mother and I continued having sex, but that ran out fast because it was no longer fun for her considering she wanted the best of both worlds; your father and the infamous me. Now she just hires me to do her dirty work, like be a spy on you. Once she found out about you and Carmen, she wanted me, first try to convince you to fall in love with me, but when that didn’t work she wanted me to harm her to the point of no return.” Malik stands and walks behind me and loosens the knot on my hands. My eyes follow his every move.
He comes back to sit and continues, “Now, her boyfriend Sam… he’s another story. He and I have had a none sexual relationship, but he initially hired me to spy on your mother. Now he wants me to harm you. He says you know too much. He then realized he wouldn’t get his business off the ground without her. So, he’s now playing the waiting game and wants me to hold on to the money. At some point, my job is to do what he paid me to do, which is get rid of her… for good.” He stops talking, walks to the other end of the sofa, and picks up a briefcase. When he opens it, it’s full of money. “I have spent not one penny. I have no intentions on harming you or your mother, but it wouldn’t surprise me if he doesn’t hire someone else to. I’m only telling you all of this now because your father wants me to put a stop to it before it goes any further than it already has. He says you’re the only one who’s smart enough to put all this madness to an end without the disarray He’s aware that your mother has become a complete drunk who’s never in her right mind. I will take the tape off now and allow you to talk, but first, promise me you won’t scream.” I nod up and down. “I’ll untie you once we’re done. I don’t want you to run, Melody. Can you promise you won’t run?”
Blown away by everything he just said to me, I shake my head yes. When he snatches the tape off, I yelp in agony. “Did you have to snatch it off like that?”
“I’m sorry. I only did it fast so it wouldn’t hurt as bad.”
“Ugh! Anyway, who is Victor? Is he in on all of this too?” I ask him, unsure why that’s the first question to come out of my mouth.
“No, not at all. I’ve checked him out on your father’s behalf. He’s a cool dude and really is about his business. He and Sam are friends from school. Sam wants him as an investor in his upcoming business; nothing illegal, but he doesn’t know that Sam’s a crook,” he explains.
Completely confused and not knowing who to trust, I ask him, “So what do you think I should do?”
“Your father has given me small instructions on what he thinks you should do, but you can handle it however you feel. His primary concern was making sure you got the details of everything that’s been going on.”
“Why are you doing all of this? What’s in it for you?”
“I owe it to your father. He did a few favors for me when I had nowhere else to turn,” he answers.
“Then why take on so many jobs from my mother? You may not have any intentions to harm me physically, but you’ve already harmed my emotions and a part of my mind by spying on me for so long. I don’t trust you or anybody else. And let’s not forget about all the creepy shit you was doing in Chicago. The story about your mother living with you, was that true, or was that some shit you made up?”
“Everything I told you in Chicago was a lie. I did and said whatever so I didn’t blow my cover. I fucked up by hanging out in the gay clubs and being seen by that petty bitch from Hooters. It was always about the money, especially after your father left. Your father took excellent care of me before he went away. Once he left, your mother only paid me for jobs. How else was I supposed to make a living for myself?”
“No, it wasn’t a question, but this isn’t about me. Well, in a way it is. I’m the common denominator to this whole equation. I don’t want you to think I’m a terrible person. Until your father gets out of prison, I’m only doing what I’m paid to do so I can make it out here in this world. I don’t want anybody’s blood on my hands. This is another reason I’ve taken the time to fill you in on so many details.”
“How do I know I can trust you? I heard Sam on the phone with you the other night. You know… when you informed him about my mother knowing all his business. Why did you tell him she knew? That’s what made him want to harm her. I’m not worried about me. And I’m really not worried about her, either. I just want to know why? Why are you telling me all of this now? I get my father told you to nip this shit in the bud, but you can let him know that I’m much smarter than he thinks. Now, I’ve listened to you, so can you listen to me and untie my damn hands?” I turn sideways and show him the rope he has my hands tied with.
“I’m not asking you to trust me. I’m asking you to trust yourself. You know good and damn well Sam is up to no good. If I wanted to do something to you, I could’ve been and done it; like the night when you first got here, and you were in your damn bed masturbating. I could’ve taken you out then, but I didn’t because like I said, I don’t want no damn blood on my hands. Not only that, but the respect I have for your father, and the love he has for you and your mother, I could but would do nothing to harm either of you. Now you can believe me or you can’t. I frankly don’t give a damn; but I’m only trying to help you, not hurt you. And you’re right… you are much smarter than your father thinks you are.” Malik unties my hands.
“I’m very grateful for you sparing our lives. I just think this whole situation is fucked up and I don’t know who to trust. I don’t even know if I can trust myself. I’ve taken in everything you’ve said and I have to go figure out how to fix it.” I stand to leave.
“If you need help with anything, will you let me know?” He jumps in front of the door before I reach it.
“I’ll think about it,” I respond as I push past him.
I walk out the door and go the opposite direction I ran in. How am I going to deal with this? Shit, I don’t even know how I will approach this damn situation, let alone deal with it. I hope my father doesn’t think this is a way to get close to me. Maybe Lucia will know what to do and how to do it. My nerves are so shot behind all of this foolishness. It’s like every day it’s something new. If it isn’t my mother, it’s her damn boyfriend. If it isn’t her boyfriend, it’s me. When does it all end? My father was right about one thing though, I can do this and it not be so messy; so I have to figure out a master plan before it’s too late.
I arrive back at the house to find my mother standing in the kitchen with Lucia and stuffing her face with a sub-sandwich and potato chips. Lucia sees me come in and sits a plate at the table for me. “Run good?”
“Yes, it was a wonderful run.” I have a habit of correcting her English when I answer or respond, even though I know she’ll never understand my corrections. She hasn’t in all these years.
“Must been. Gone long time.” Her accent is as heavy as it was the day I met her.
“It’s therapeutic, plus, you know how running causes me to lose track of time.” I wash my hands and take a seat at the table.
“Time waits for no one,” Lucia and I both say in unison followed by a laugh.
“You jinx me.” She holds up her pinky finger.
“You’ve picked up too many things from me over the years, Lucia,” I smile as I take a bite from my perfectly made sandwich. I never have to tell her what I want to eat or how I want to eat it. There’s not too much of anything that I have to tell her about me; now my mother, she knows very little. Sometimes I wonder if I’m adopted.
“No, no, no. Me teach you well.” She shakes her forefinger at me and laughs.
“Oh, enough with you two already. Do you ever tire from all the damn mushiness? Are you two fucking? That’s probably where she got the gay shit from to begin with.” My mother takes a sip of whatever she has in her glass, which I’m almost positive is wine.
Lucia looks at her and says a few words with a lot of meaning, “Never insult me again.” She then turns to me and says, “Eat up so can shower.”
I sometimes wonder if I would still live if Lucia had not been around to keep me grounded and sane. I look at my mother as she finishes the beverage in her glass, and then I do something out of the ordinary by asking, “How has your day been so far?”
Her chestnut brown eyes peek over the brim of the glass. She pauses before finishing the remaining with one gulp and then replies, “It’s been good. I spoke with my friend at Bank of America and she’s looking for an executive personal banker. If you’re interested, you can start this week. I know it’s not geared towards what your major was, but it pays very well; one hundred thousand the first year, plus incentives. Benefits included and you’ll have your own office and personal assistant. You make your own schedule as long as you meet the required hours every month.” She sips. “I figured it could be a noble way to start over. I left her contact information on my vanity. If you’re not interested, you must find something on your own and it must be soon. You won’t need any training because the job is common sense, which you think you have plenty of.” Her expression confirms her statement. “The only things you’re required to do is to assist and support clients with their financial needs. You may not have much personal experience in monitoring your own finances, but I’m sure you’re aware of what it takes. I wrote your father a letter telling him how you’ve fucked up.” She pours herself another glass of wine, finishes it fast, grabs her briefcase off the chair next to me and leaves without saying another word. What a way to end a conversation.
“Will you at home for dinner time?” Lucia yells behind her.
“Those are the plans, if not, put me a plate in the microwave.” The front door closes.
After checking to make sure she’s gone, I turn back towards the kitchen to gossip with Lucia. “Some shit happened while I was away, and I need your help on how to figure everything out.” I fill her in on the information Malik shared and ask what she thinks I should do. She tells me that the first thing is to make sure my mother’s will leaves nothing to Sam. That’s the simple part, I think to myself. She then tells that she will figure the rest out, and for me not to worry about it. She says we have time. I don’t see how though, unless she knows something I don’t know.
After finishing my lunch and promising Lucia that I would take the job at the bank to start a financial establishment for myself, I leave the kitchen and go to my mother’s room to retrieve the number from her vanity. It’s lying right on top. Under it is an envelope addressed from our OBGYN. Inquiring minds would like to know, so I pick it up and open it. As I’m reading, I can’t believe my eyes. No wonder she’s been drinking like a fish under water and won’t leave Sam alone. She’s pregnant; 7 weeks, to be exact. Is it even his? Does Lucia know about any of this? Does she plan on keeping it? I look at the date and it’s dated for November 1, 2006. That was three weeks ago. Is she still pregnant? How do I get the answers to all these questions without being found out? Just as I finish reading and put the letter back in the envelope, I hear my mother’s voice telling Lucia that she forgot the file she’s working on. I hurry and place the letter just how I found it and make my way into the hallway.
When she sees me, she asks, “Did you get the number?”
“Sure did! It was just where you said it would be. Thanks! I’ll call her right away.” I show her the card and hurry back downstairs, jumping two steps at a time. Once in the kitchen, I immediately take Lucia’s hand and drag her into the pantry, out of ear’s listening. “Did you know she was or is pregnant?” Lucia’s “what the fuck” response confirms she had no clue.
My hand covers her mouth. “We have to figure out a way to find out if she still is. How do we do that?”
I uncover her mouth to let her answer, “Pay Malik.”
“Yes! Why didn’t I think of that? Come on.” I pull her out of the pantry, leading her to the back door.
“Me must finish dishes. Go and me come shortly.” Lucia pushes me out the door.
I hear my mother coming down the stairs behind me, so I hurry off. In the pool house, I plop down on the sofa and extend my legs to the ottoman. While waiting, I call my mother’s friend at the bank and seal the job.
Felicia answers on the second ring and we talk for about five minutes before our conversation ends. She gave the same information my mother provided and I start on Wednesday. That gives me another day to clear my mind from all the fuckery. Lucia eventually comes in with a beer for me, and a beer for her.
She sits down beside me on the sofa, ready for the chatter. “Her pregnant?”
“Apparently. That’s what the doctor’s letter read. Said she was seven weeks, but that was three weeks ago.” I get comfortable by propping a pillow behind my back and sitting Indian-style. “So, you think we should hire Malik to find out if she’s still pregnant or not?” I ask her for reassurance.
“Him must be good. Everybody else hire he.”
“But he’ll tell my father. Do you think it’s okay that my father knows, or do you think he’ll say something to my mother?” I question her.
“Him might tell father unless we pay him not to. Him so devoted to you father that him will still spill beans, probably,” she answers.
“I’ll find out. We have the same doctor. I’ll make a doctor’s appointment and bring it up to Dr. Ivanovsky as though my mother has already told me. Oh wait, Raven is the receptionist there. She’s been there since our senior year of high school. I can get anything out of her because she’s always up in someone else’s business since she has none of her own,” I inform Lucia, then chug over half my beer. She takes her last sip and leaves to prepare dinner.
I dial the therapist. We’ve agreed to meet tomorrow at four. There’s a feeling that I just might like her. Our conversation puts me in a thinking mood about how to deal with all the situations that surround me. First things first; I have to deal with my mother and a new baby, if there is a new baby. Let me call and make my doctor’s appointment while that’s still fresh on my mind.
The phone rings three times before the receptionist finally answers. “Hi Raven, it’s Melody. Can I make an appointment for as soon as possible?”
“Hi Melody! We haven’t heard from you in a while. Are you home from school? Is everything okay? How soon would you like to come in?” I don’t know if she’s excited or just doing her job.
“Whoa! Slow down there, Raven. You must really be excited to hear from me? Yes, I’m home from school. Actually, I’m here for good… or until I leave. It’ll definitely be on my terms, though. Everything is perfectly fine. I just need to come in for my usual check-up. Do you have an opening for tomorrow?” I know I’m pushing it by requesting to come in so soon, but I’m willing to take my chances.
“I have nine-thirty and eleven.”
“I’ll take the eleven.”
“Okay, I have you down. See you tomorrow and come a little early so we can catch up a little. It’s been a while and I miss my friend.” She’s giggling.
“See you then, Raven.” I giggle back. I know she’s the only person I’ll be able to get the information I need from. Not only is she nosey, but she talks too damn much. Therefore, I only share information that I want her to know, and I’m okay with her repeating. I can only imagine how interesting the conversation will go. Raven and I haven’t seen each other since we graduated almost four years ago, and we both mistakenly had our parties on the same day. We fought about it at first, but then wound up joining them together. She was one of the few friends I had in high school. We attended school together from Pre-K to twelfth grade. Her parents are just as wealthy as mine are. Her father is the chief of police and has been since I can remember, and her mother owns three of Miami’s hottest salons; not just beauty shops, but salons where you can get everything done, from hair to massages. She caters to men and women, and her clientele ranges from local celebrities to Donatella Versace.
We hang up and I go to the house to see if Lucia can reserve me a car for tomorrow. She arranges for me to get picked up at nine-thirty and goes back to her duties.