Chapter 61
Seth
“It’s not your fault,” I reassure her, unsure of how to deal with this. I can’t bring myself to offer any comfort to Brandi beyond platitudes. It’s not her fault. I know from my own history that there is nothing you can do to fix someone who is sick, but what I’m worried about is my daughter and her future. “Is everyone in your family batshit fucking crazy?” I ask before I can think better of it.
Brandi’s head snaps up, and Layla looks at me with her mouth wide open. “Seth!” she admonishes.
“Your mom is nuts. You’re suspect. Your sister had issues too, but you’re all closely related to my daughter, and I’m worried about her,” I say. “I’m not trying to be rude, but—”
“I get it,” Brandi says. “I do.” Then she looks up and her dark eyes bore into mine. “Say what you want about my mother and me, but don’t you ever speak ill of my sister again. She gave you a daughter. Show her some respect.” Her eyes hold mine the entire time. Her voice is low but deadly.
“I think what Seth is getting at is that maybe you and your father should get her some professional help.” Layla looks at me and widens her eyes. It’s like she’s trying to chastise me without speaking.
“She just prays and he prays with her. He lets her do whatever she wants because he feels guilty for all the times he was deployed and she stayed behind to raise us by herself. I know it doesn’t seem like it, but she has tremendous regret over Charlotte. That’s why she wants Jasmine.”
“Well, she can’t have her,” I say, raising my voice just a little. Layla puts her hand on my leg to calm me down. “I’m sorry, but I have a hard time believing this is out of guilt. You just said your mother sees dollar signs. Which is it, because it can’t be both. My daughter is not a consolation prize for her mistakes, and she’s not a paycheck. I will have her arrested and will press charges. Either you rein her in, or all kinds of hell is going to come down on her. That’s a fact. Jasmine is our child, and that lunatic is never going to get her hands on her.”
Brandi raises both hands in surrender. “I’m here to help,” she says.
“But how?” Layla asks. “You have no idea where she is or how to find her. Even if you do find her, how are you going to get her to leave us alone?”
“She will never hurt Jasmine,” she says, speaking fast. “She’s never laid a hand on me, but—”
“You’re damn right, she won’t,” I hiss. “She won’t get close enough to touch my daughter.”
“Listen,” Brandi says. “I just want what’s best for everyone. I don’t want Jasmine traumatized, and I want what’s best for my mother.”
“What’s best for her is that she stay away from my family,” I say.
“Grandma got you some toys and a few dresses,” Stella says to Jasmine, who has no interest in the clothes that she has strewn on the couch. She’s more interested in the yellow stuffed animal and the new doll and stroller. Stella picks her up and kisses her cheek before putting her back down.
June Bug crosses his arms and leans on the counter. Not only do we do dinner every Sunday, but we have them here at least once a week. They will come over after visiting Gaga, and we’ll eat together. I get the plates to set the table while Layla updates them on why she’ll be having a bodyguard for the foreseeable future.
“What?” June Bug asks, standing straight. “Where she at?” He cracks his neck. “I’ll never hit a woman, but—”
“Oh, I will,” Stella says. “I’ll beat her ass so bad, she won’t be able to stand up. She’ll be in too much pain to think about going after my daughter and granddaughter.”
“Just wait until I’m done with her,” Donna says. “Best case, she’ll be in a coma. She can bet on that.”
“Yeah. Where is that”—Stella looks at Jasmine, who is busy putting all her dolls on the new stroller before she says—“bitch? Let me tell you,” she adds, walking over to me, “if that ho so much as puts a finger on my daughter and granddaughter, I’m going to fuck her up. And when I get done with her, Donna will get her turn. Layla’s sorry-ass father will have his moment too because what no one is allowed to do is fuck with me and mine. And you three are mine,” she hisses.
“Let me know where she is, and I can end this tonight,” June Bug says.
“If we knew where she was, we would have called the cops,” I say.
“The cops? What the hell are they gonna do?” Stella asks. “That bitch needs street justice, not cops.”
“What the hell kind of mess did you get my cousin into? See, Auntie, I knew this marriage was a bad idea. I’m just going to move in here until this woman is gone.”
“June Bug, you don’t have to do that. We’re fine,” Layla assures him. “And Seth didn’t get me into anything. He’s trying to protect our daughter.”
Just as the words leave Layla’s mouth, Jasmine runs to June Bug and wraps herself around one of his legs. He picks her up and she pulls on his dreads.
“Cookie!” she yells.
He looks at me, and I shake my head no. He turns his back to me, grabs his backpack, and takes Jasmine to the couch. A few seconds later, he unwraps a pack of Oreos.
“June Bug,” I warn.
“Julian to you. You have to earn the right to call me June Bug, and you haven’t earned it yet.” He completely ignores me and puts a cookie in each of her hands. “What are you gonna do about it?” he taunts from across the room.
“Let me take her home,” Stella suggests. “And I dare that bitch to come to my door.”
I want to say that I see where June Bug gets it from, but I keep my mouth shut. They love my daughter, and that’s all I’ve ever wanted for her. She has family that extends beyond me and my father, and I’m not going to jeopardize that.
“Mom, please,” Layla says.
“Thanks, Stella, but I’ve got it covered. Their bodyguard starts tomorrow.” And it’s my job to keep them safe. “I promise everyone will be fine.”
And everything has been fine. Six weeks pass by from when Barbara tried to take Jasmine. A few days later, Brandi called to let us know her mother was back home, and she was trying to convince her father to get her professional help. I haven’t heard from her since, but I’m not convinced this woman will be receptive to getting help. I’ve dealt with a sick parent all my life. Dad was resistant to therapy for years and only agreed to go when I threatened to cut him off. Brandi and her husband don’t have the leverage I have over my dad.
Even despite the help Dad’s received, it’s taken him years of treatment to get to the root of his issues. He’s only now starting to go outside, but he goes every day now. Even if it’s only to the backyard. He goes grocery shopping with the housekeeper twice a week. He called yesterday to tell me that he walked to the end of the street by himself. It was a FaceTime call, and he looked happy and proud of himself. I was happy for him. A few months ago, if he had done this, I would have rolled my eyes, but now I see what a big accomplishment it is for him.
The basketball season has begun, and I’m back to traveling regularly. I was relieved when Jasmine didn’t have a meltdown at my first few away games. When I video call her at night, she’s happy and content. She’ll babble for a minute before running off to her toys. Layla will usually go to Vickie’s apartment to watch the away games, and the kids will play together.
But the best part is that Layla promises to be at all my home games unless Jasmine is sick. I’ve never had family at my games before. For the first home game of the season, I got tickets for Donna, Stella, June Bug, and Leon. June Bug promised he’d sit between the women and Leon to intervene in case someone decided to throw a punch. According to Layla, everyone behaved.
Because they were in the stands, I played my best game that night. I remember watching them cheer me on. After the game, I kissed my wife in the middle of the court, and everyone went wild. We were the talk of the sports talk shows for days, but that had its downside too. Several women came out and talked about being with me. There was talk that our marriage is fake and that I’m only trying to repair my image. Thankfully, the talk died down after a few days, and Layla didn’t seem too bothered by it.
Even after losing tonight’s game, it was still a rush to have her in the stands, wearing my jersey and cheering me on. I know she’s on the other side of the door now, waiting for me. She was anxious to leave after tonight’s game, and she promised there would be a big surprise for me when I get home. That made my heart skip a beat because the last time I got a surprise, I became a single father.
I tap the code to the front door and go inside. I stop short when I see my surprise standing in the middle of the entryway. Layla is behind him and giving me a smile.
“Dad?” I ask. I blink rapidly, certain that this can’t be right.
“I told you I was working on coming to see you. Layla helped me surprise you.” I drop my bag, and for the first time in years, I run to my father, hug him, and lift him off the ground.
“Put me down, you giant,” he teases.
When I put him down, I see tears in his eyes. I pull him to me and hug him again. “I’m so happy you’re here,” I practically sob. I open my arm and Layla joins us.
“Me too, Son,” is all he says. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to handle a game this trip, but—”
“Whatever you can do. No pressure.”
That night, the three of us eat together before Dad complains about being tired. Once he goes to bed, I help clean up before I take my wife to bed and make sweet slow love to her.