Chapter 11 Apricot
APRICOT
I walked in the living room and found the food I’d taken my father twenty minutes before still on the tray beside his chair untouched.
He had a glass of bourbon in his hand, and he hadn’t shaved, combed his hair, or attempted to move around the house in days.
He would shower, change his clothes, then sit in front of the TV all day.
It was my second day there, and I hadn’t seen him eat more than a few handfuls of cashews and a bagel.
“Why aren’t you eating, dad?” I asked him in a low non confrontational tone. “And you don’t need to be drinking with the medication that you’re on.”
“What’s the worst that could happen?” he asked dryly.
Standing in front of him with my hands on my hips, I watched him take a few sips of the alcohol. “I’ve never seen you quit, give up, or sit around having pity parties a day in my life until now. What’s up with you? Where is the Devin Jennings that I know?”
My father glared at me. “You mean the one that you don’t want to have shit to do with? He died when he got shot and left for dead.”
I shook my head at my father. “I’ve never in life seen you play the victim, so I don’t get why you’re starting now.
You should be ashamed. No one left you for dead.
They left you because of the things you’re out here doing.
It’s a shame you got shot, but that doesn’t mean we have to deal with you if you’re doing things we don’t like.
That doesn’t have anything to do with taking care of yourself and getting better. ”
“Why are you here, Apricot? I thought you were done with me.”
Even I was surprised at how well I was keeping my composure. I was going to let my father play the victim for as long as he wanted to. After all, it wasn’t like I wanted him to die.
“Because when grandma told me you’d had a stroke, it traumatized me. I forgot about all of the irrelevant stuff, and all I could think about was getting to you. Now you want to pick arguments.”
“I don’t want to pick anything. I’m stating facts. It is what it is, however, Apricot.”
“You’re right. It is what it is. You’ve had alcohol that you aren’t supposed to be drinking, so now can you please eat? You’re going to be skin and bones. The father that I know, wouldn’t miss any meals at a time like this.”
“That nigga doesn’t exist,” he frowned as he spoke.
“Do you have to use the bathroom?” his grouchiness wasn’t going to deter me. At least while he was laid up recovering from a stroke, maybe his enemies would think he was soft and wasn’t a threat. If he still had them.
“No, I don’t.”
Grabbing the tray of food, I walked over to him. “Cool. Now, since you don’t want to eat on your own, I’m going to feed you. Open up.”
My father shot me daggers with his eyes. “Give me the fuckin’ plate,” he growled making me simper.
Not even him having a stroke motivated my mother to care enough to stop by the house.
When she said she was done with him, she meant it from the bottom of her soul.
Just because I was able to forgive him and be there for him didn’t mean that I expected her to.
What he’d done to her was way worse than what he’d done to me.
I actually kind of enjoyed getting on his nerves, but I wanted him to get better too.
A win was a win. Sitting down on the couch, I grabbed the remote and flipped through channels looking for something to watch.
“You gonna sit there and watch me eat?”
“Nope. I’m gonna sit here and watch TV,” I responded without taking my eyes off the screen.
My father grunted, but he picked his fork up and began eating his food which was probably cold, but he acted as if he didn’t mind.
We sat in silence for about ten minutes before I finally decided to speak my peace.
“Murders and having my home broken into aside, you were a great father. And you’re a great grandfather.
Kiwi adores the ground that you walk on. ”
When my father didn’t respond, I turned to look at him.
Despite the fact that he turned his head away, so I couldn’t see his face, I caught the glassy look in his eyes.
I’d never seen Devin Jennings cry. Not even after all the funerals he attended.
I was sure he did cry at times; I’d just never witnessed it.
I directed my attention back toward the TV.
When my father’s cell phone rang, I leaned forward and grabbed it off the coffee table for him.
After saying hello, my father listened to whoever was on the other end of the phone for a few seconds before he spoke. “When? And you’re just now calling me?” he raised his voice slightly. He listened for a bit then spoke again. “Come get me. Now.”
I angled my head in his direction with a curios dip of my brows.
My father walked slow, but he could walk.
His left side was weak, but if he took his time, there were a lot of things that he could still do.
He hadn’t left the house because he didn’t have the desire to.
He’d even arranged it for the physical therapist to come to him.
After he ended the call, my father extended the plate toward me.
Most of the food was gone, so I didn’t protest taking it.
“Where are you going?”
“I need to handle something.”
I stared at him as he gripped the arm of his recliner with his good hand and prepared himself mentally to stand before pushing himself up. He was an adult, and he didn’t have to share his business with me, but my father was fragile. He wasn’t the Devin that I’d known my entire life.
“Do you care to elaborate just a little bit? Who’s coming to get you? Can you at least tell me that?”
“Ken, I need to get down to the police station. Uno has been serving extra clientele for me while Ken was out of town, and he got arrested.”
It felt as if my father had delivered a blow to my gut.
The wind was literally knocked out of me.
I couldn’t breathe. My heart sank as I thought about his son.
I was speechless and so stunned that it slipped my mind to even get up and help my father.
It would take him forever and a day to make it up the stairs, but I was stuck on stupid.
Maybe Uno could get out on bond. I had no idea how much dope he’d been caught with, but there wasn’t a bond amount in the world that my father couldn’t pay.
Shit, I’d pay it. That revelation made me aware that I really liked Uno despite how much I’d been trying to convince myself that I didn’t.
At that point, I didn’t care about what he had done out in the streets.
Uno for the most part made his money and stayed out the way.
Even the way he was there for my father after his stroke pulled at my heart strings.
I wasn’t sure what my father had planned, but I knew I wanted to help.
Not knowing how far away Ken was prompted me to get up and start getting myself ready.
Three hours. That was how long I sat down at the police station before I saw Uno walking from the back with a confused look on his face.
After all that had transpired over the past three hours, I couldn’t even be happy that he was free.
Uno ambled in my direction just as the door opened, and a woman walked in looking around frantically.
She was the same woman that had been dancing on him that night in the club.
And she was drop dead gorgeous. No one could have paid me to wear the dress that she had on that night, but her body was amazing and even in sweats and a sports bra, she still looked amazing.
“Uno oh my God. Shiloh told me what was going on. Why didn’t you call me?”
He didn’t say anything as he walked toward her. She threw her arms around him, and I looked away. Since he didn’t seem to need a ride, that was my cue to leave.
“I’ll explain everything in the car. Let me holla at my people. My boss’ daughter is here.”
Ouch. That kind of stung, but he didn’t tell any lies. I was in fact simply his boss’ daughter. His friend looked over her shoulder and gave me a brief glance. “Okay, baby. I’ll be in the car.” When she pecked his lips, I had to resist the urge to roll my eyes.
When she left the police station, Uno moved closer to me, and I stood. “They went from denying me a bond to dropping the charges. What happened?”
“My father walked in here and told them the drugs were his.”
Uno’s eyes ballooned out of his head. “What the fuck?” he hissed. “Are you serious?”
I nodded. “He didn’t tell me what he was going to do. I thought he was coming to bail you out. His health is fragile. He needs physical therapy. Jail is the last place he needs to be,” my voice cracked, and I blinked back tears. “Hopefully, they’ll give him a bond. Why wouldn’t they give you one?”
Uno sucked his teeth. “They wanted the big fish. Kept trying to get me to talk. When I finally told them to suck my dick, they got real mad and petty. Denied my bond talking about I’m a flight risk and might flee.
Fuck niggas,” he growled. “But Mr. Jennings,” Uno ran a hand down his face. “Damn man.”
“Yeah, I know. I already contacted his attorney. When he gets here, I’m going to leave. I’ve been here for three and a half hours. I need to tell my mom what’s going on and get Kiwi.”
Uno gave a curt nod. “Keep me posted on what’s going on. Fuck.”
“Okay.”
Uno should have been relieved that he was no longer facing a trafficking charge, but he seemed stressed.
That told me that he really did care about my father.
He held the door open for me, and I walked through it with a heavy heart.
A Lamborghini truck was parked in front of the station waiting for him, and I wondered if ole girl was his girlfriend.
It really didn’t even matter. I’d given Uno enough hell.
If he was tired of my ass nobody could blame him.