Chapter 10
T he sun stretched over the horizon, painting the sky in strokes of gold as the boat rocked gently in the turquoise Atlantic. A cool, salty breeze came off the water, ruffling shirts and carrying the screeches of seagulls overhead.
“So…this is your boat?” Orion asked, his voice breaking the peace.
Mark glanced over his shoulder. “This is, in fact, my baby.”
Orion rubbed his chin and took a step closer to the railing, eyeing the sleek vessel. “Why’s it called Lady LaynaBelle?”
“Boats are always female, and that’s my mama’s nickname,” Drew answered before his father could.
Mark gave a small nod, eyes fixed on the water as he adjusted the drag on his reel. “Which is ironic. She hated this damn boat.”
The Bennett men shared a wistful laugh remembering their Layna Belle. The sound was light. The memories, sweet.
Then Orion laughed, too, a beat too late and too loud, forcing himself into the moment, irritating Mark in the process. He pulled a cigar from the small humidor on the table and held it up. “Is it time to light up?”
Mark gestured to the back of the boat with a clipped nod. “Wind’s better back there.”
Orion moved, clapping a hand on Mark’s shoulder as he passed him. It was too familiar. Too firm.
“I ain’t even mad atcha,” he said. “This is the life, man. I feel like…I don’t know. I work hard. I’m paid. But I ain’t doin’ it like this.”
Mark grabbed a cigar for himself, lighting up, taking a few puffs as he leaned against the side rail. His eyes drifted toward the horizon, but his ears were trained on Orion, who was still talking.
“I mean, we both made out alright. You with your mansion and your boat. Me with my career and my family.”
Mark’s ears perked up.
Orion lit his cigar with great fanfare, taking slow, deliberate puffs like he was trying to prove something.
Mark glanced toward the other side of the boat, where the five boys—grown, but still boys to him—were casting their reels overboard. But Davion was clearly straining to hear the conversation, his face tight, his eyes narrowed.
“…So I figure, we just took different paths in life, know what I mean? Finance is cool, but this medical shit…well, I just wish I knew back then.”
Against his better judgment, Mark checked back into the conversation. “Knew what?”
Orion shrugged, taking another puff. “How much money is in this shit, man.”
Mark nodded slowly. “Don’t sweat that. I’m sure you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.”
Orion’s eyes narrowed, but he said nothing.
Silence turned to stillness between them. It suited Mark just fine; Orion’s voice was like nails on a chalkboard to him.
“Sometimes, you do get a do-over,” Orion mumbled. He glanced at his sons, locking eyes with Davion before the boy averted his gaze.
“I’m trying to get one with my family. Just between us, Doc.”
Mark wasn’t surprised. It explained the vibe he was getting the night before watching the two exes.
“And what does that look like?” he asked, trying his hardest to sound like that was a nonchalant, just-making-conversation kind of question rather than what it actually was—due diligence.
“Shit…my family back together,” Orion said. “Divorce is fucking hard, Doc.”
“I get it,” Mark said.
Orion put a hand up. “My bad. I wasn’t trying to be offensive.”
“About?”
“Whining about being divorced, when…you know.” Orion searched for a sign that Mark understood. “You actually lost your wife. Which I have the utmost sympathy for, by the way.”
Mark shrugged. “I wasn’t offended at all.” He waited a few beats, then said, “What does that look like to you? Putting your family back together.”
A few more puffs, then a quiet answer.
“My wife coming back to me. My son coming back to me.”
Mark didn’t react to it, as much as he wanted to. “Does she seem…receptive?”
“I mean…it’s hard to tell sometimes. You know how women are.”
From the other side of the boat, Davion huffed out a breath that sounded like disapproval.
“Wish me luck, Doc.”
Mark chuckled, exhaling a plume of sweet smoke. He would never in a million life times wish this motherfucker luck with the woman he loved. Every time he opened his mouth, Mark felt something primal and territorial rise in his chest. The fact that this loud, careless, swaggering man had once had her was all he could stand.
“I’m sure if it’s meant to be, it will be,” Mark said as he walked away, feeling satisfied with his fishing expedition.
The other side of the boat was much more boisterous. The boys had caught a couple big ones and were celebrating with beers. Mark gave them a nod, then took his seat next to his future son-in-law.
“Alright, Dav,” he said low, so only he could hear. “What’s the deal, man?”
Davion blinked, pulled back into the present and out of his stormy thoughts. “What do you mean?”
“You been mopin’ around here like it’s the end of the world,” Mark said, blowing his smoke in the opposite direction. “You’re marrying my daughter in a few days, so you can understand my concern about that.”
Davion heaved a heavy sigh, eyes flicking toward his father, who had commandeered Vince with an animated story that used far too many hand gestures. “It’s just…family stuff.”
“Everything good?”
Davion hesitated, then dropped his voice. “My pops. I just ain’t in the mood for his bullshit this weekend.” He tensed. “Sorry.”
Mark waved the apology off. “Don’t worry about it. What’s the bullshit?”
He almost asked for the tea, but thankfully, he caught himself. Working around twenty-year old women ten-plus hours a day had made his vocabulary a lot more colorful.
“Walkin’ around here with his chest out,” Dav said, “acting like father of the year when he’s the one who effed up our family.”
Mark kept his expression neutral. “You don’t have to get into it,” he said carefully, “but is it not something you can put to the side while you’re here?”
“Not when it’s in my face.” Davion looked out over the water. “The chick he cheated on my mama with. He’s bringing her to the wedding.”
“You and Brook made the guest list. Why’d you invite her?”
Davion heaved a heavy sigh. “My mama told me to. Well, she said it was okay to invite her, and Brooklyn told me we had to give my pops a plus one because of etiquette or whatever. I wasn’t about to argue with two women over wedding business, so—“
“Yeah, I hear you.” Mark chuckled. “You think your mom is really cool with it?”
He took a deep breath. “I don’t even know. My mama is…different. You’ll be thinking she’s on one thing but she be on something entirely different.”
Mark knew that better than Davion could ever know. It was part of what attracted him to her in the first place.
“Did you, uh…did you give your mom a plus one?”
“Of course,” Dav said. “But…well, I think her best friend, my auntie Tigra, was supposed to be that. She’ll be here Friday. But she got her own invitation, so…”
“So, no date for your mom?”
Davion chuckled. “Actually, yeah. I was getting to that.”
“Yes?” Mark nearly dropped his cigar.
“Yeah. I’m glad, too. Strange as that sounds.” Dav’s laugh was joyful for the first time all day. “My pops is still sniffing around behind her. It drives me crazy.” He shook his head. “My brothers don’t even know the whole story. It’s a mess.”
“Well,” Mark said after a beat. “Now I understand your mood.”
In the distance, the coastline glimmered under the sun, while Mark’s villa loomed above, large and magnificent.
And sometimes? Lonely.
Where children used to run around the house tracking sand and stickiness, there was silence. Where Alayna used to flit about the house, making everything interesting and beautiful, there was the sepia tone of boredom.
Mark looked at Davion, amazed by how much the young man looked like his father. But his character was all Cici, and thank God for that.
In a voice low enough for only Davion to hear, he said, “I think she deserves better.”
Davion looked at him, brows furrowed.
“Your mother,” Mark clarified. “I don’t know her like you do, obviously, but from what I can see, she’s…” he trailed off, unsure of how to finish that thought without sounding like he was already planning to demolish the woman.
Davion’s expression shifted from confused to cautious to curious. “Um…what are you getting at?”
Mark smiled. “Nothing. I just know a good woman when I see one.”
Davion didn’t respond, but it felt like the weight of understanding settled between them.
Mark straightened, flicking ash into the ocean. He gave Dav a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “Just don’t stand my daughter up at the altar. I got a lot of money tied up in this. And I got old man strength. You don’t want it with me, son.”
That earned a real laugh from Davion. “I would never. I know a good woman when I see one, too, sir.”
“Good. Now loosen up. How you gon’ be stressed out here on the water? Go play.”
Dav gave a nod and stood, making his way back to the group.
Satisfied, Mark started back toward the helm, his cigar smoldering between his fingers. His mind was working. Analyzing.
She was bringing a date.
Mark knew exactly who Orion was. Man was purely an inconvenience, like a small fly that gets in the house when you open the door to go out.
But the date…that was something else to deal with. Something he wasn’t prepared for.
But nothing was ever easy with Cici. Which made this whole thing more frustrating. Two grown ass adults having to hide their feelings and sneak around when all he wanted to do was declare to everyone in earshot that the first woman he ever loved, and lost, was his again.
And for Orion and the mystery date, the message was even clearer: Stay the fuck away from her.
“Hey, Brookie. How’d it go?”
Brooklyn plopped down on the sofa in Mark’s study, toeing her sandals off with a sigh. “Fine.”
“Where’s your dress?”
“It’ll be ready tomorrow.”
He brought his eyes back to his screen, cool as a cucumber when he said, “Where’s Davion’s mom?”
She shrugged. “Probably went to take a nap. I think I tired her out.”
“Why do you say that?”
“She got a little irritated.” Brooklyn looked behind her as if she thought someone was lurking. “Daddy, she showed me her dress for the wedding. It’s kind of…basic. So I suggested we look for another one.”
Mark sat back in his chair, rubbing his chin. “Did she find something she liked? Wait, let me rephrase that. Did she find something you liked?”
Brooklyn laughed. “Whatever, Daddy. But seriously…” she stood and stepped closer to Mark, lowering her voice to just above a whisper. “I kinda get the feeling she couldn’t afford a new dress.”
“You took her to Aurora?”
“Of course.”
“Yeah, that’s not a place you take regular folks, Brook. She was probably embarrassed.” He tapped the side of his head and said, “Think about it for a minute.”
It was times like these when he questioned his parenting. He and Alayna used to talk about it all the time. As black parents, they never wanted their children to struggle the way they did, but then one day you wake up and them kids are spoiled as shit and out of touch with reality.
He stared at his daughter and wondered what possessed her to take Sunny to a store that sold shit that started at five figures.
“Should I apologize?” Brooklyn finally said.
He lifted a shoulder. “It’s probably not that deep. But baby, that’s something you need to be mindful of. I’ve told you that.”
“Davion is an engineer, Daddy. I guess I thought—“
“Have y’all talked about finances?”
Brooklyn’s perfect little nose crinkled. “What’s there to talk about? He’s an engineer.”
“And the economy is shit right now,” Mark retorted. “The cost of living has gone up. His salary might not go as far as you think it does.”
He could see the wheels turning in her head.
“Yall really never talked about this?”
Her gaze drifted to the floor below. It was all the answer Mark needed.
If she thought he was gonna butt into her marriage to subsidize her, she was in for a rude awakening. He’d always be her safety net, but the day-to-day was about to pass to her husband. He’d never overstep the way Alayna’s father did.
“I have business to tend to,” he told her. “And don’t give me that look. If I get it all done now, I won’t be thinking about it on Saturday.”
She gathered her sandals and stuck her tongue out at him as she departed, making him smile.
Then he pulled out his phone to make a very important phone call.