Chapter Twenty-Eight
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
No tea, No shade
N adia felt her body sway then hit the wall at an awkward angle when she lost her balance on the way inside of the house. She’d broken free and tried to rush ahead of him, talk some sense into him, but it was no use. Lennox slammed his door so hard, the entire dwelling seemed to shimmy and shake like an earthquake. When he faced her again, unadulterated anger shone in his piercing eyes. She pressed her body against the wall for support. He locked his door while she took several deep breaths and briefly closed her eyes. Her heart nearly pounded out of her chest.
“I know you’re angry, Len, but I’m angry with you, too.” He kept his back turned towards her as he fiddled with the chain on his door. “You had no business crushin’ Dice’s car like you were in some monster truck show, and puttin’ my ex in the hospital, beatin’ him down with a baseball bat like yo’ name is Babe Ruth. I don’t give a damn about either of those men, but I care about you . Just like I told you. You know your grandfather would love to find you committin’ a crime so he can use that as leverage. You just out in these streets running amuck! This is exactly what I was afraid of, and why I didn’t tell you what happened at the strip club in the first place!”
He slipped out of his jacket and hung it up in the closet without uttering a single word. That was when she noticed several large cardboard boxes in his living room, some filled with items she recognized from around his house. Before she could inquire why they were there, he took her wrist and led her down the hallway. His house was dark and cold, not warm and inviting as it typically felt when she’d spend time there. It was as if his entire mood had colored the environment around him. Made the world foggy and dreary, dripping in shades of dull, dank gray.
Opening his bedroom door, he flipped on the switch. Light bathed them as it spread from his ceiling light fixture. His bedroom looked pretty much the same as last time, but felt like a completely different place altogether.
Lennox stood there for a while, his chest heaving.
“Sit.” He pointed to the bed.
With hesitant steps, she made her way to the edge of his bed and sat down. He began to pace, then leaned against a dresser, crossing his arms and ankles, chin high. She could see his jaw tightening beneath his short, dark beard as his eyes penetrated her with the fury of a million men.
“Tell me what the hell happened. Everything, from beginning to end.”
She rested on her palms, leaning back. “First you tell me why you did what you did today and why you lied to me about that business trip, when really yo’ ass was in Georgia actin’ a fool?”
They must’ve stared at one another for eternity, neither willing to break the connection. But then he sighed and lowered his head. She’d won this round, even though that didn’t make her feel any better.
“Because with some folks, you give an inch and they take a mile. I’ve had it. Had it with the secrets, the pain. All of it. Your ex wouldn’t respect your boundaries. You kept telling him to leave you the fuck alone. I heard it, I saw it. If I did nothing, I am teaching anyone who hurts you that they can get away with it. We teach people how to treat us, Nadia. Contrary to the way us men act sometimes, we’re not stupid. We know when a woman we want has a man, or isn’t feeling us the way we’re feeling her. They didn’t have to see me to know I had you on lockdown, and they still played in my fuckin’ face!”
“This sounds like it’s more about you than me. An ego problem, Lennox!”
“What the hell are you talking about?! THIS IS A ‘DON’T FUCK WITH MY LADY’ PROBLEM, GOT DAMN IT!” He beat his chest with his fist, his eyes practically blood red, his voice so loud it ran through her. Made her innards shake. “To them, it’s like I may as well not even exist in your life! You’re not alone anymore. NOBODY rains on my baby. And I mean NOBODY. Why the fuck am I here if I can’t protect the woman I love from harassment, threats, and bullshit?! You’re crazy if you think I’d let that slide. I’m not about to hand no man a second dick so he can fuck my woman over twice! The old me wouldn’t have allowed it to go unchecked after the first incident. It would have only taken one slick call, one threatening text message or voicemail. They wouldn’t even be breathing right now, Nadia, if the old me was in charge still. I had mercy on them. Mercy is not somethin’ that came to me naturally. I had to learn how to receive it, and how to give it. I had to get therapy and make an effort to be more like the man my mother was tryna raise me to be, but even the love of my mama wouldn’t have been able to stop me if I truly wanted them to sleep with the fishes. I saw the tape of Dice and you… what he did to you that night. Every time I think about it, my anger soars. I can’t even guarantee you that I may not eventually finish the job. I’m not making any promises.”
Her heart rate accelerated while he continued. “It is what it is. They ran out of chances, and I ran out of grace.” He shrugged. “They need to talk to Jesus, not me. I’m done turnin’ the other cheek. Plain and simple.”
She crossed her arms, unable to argue with him—she knew who the hell he was from the jump. Just because he’d matured didn’t mean he wasn’t still about standing on business. The Wilde blood was strong, and there was no fighting it. She cleared her throat and started talking, running down what had transpired at the club. She began from the time she entered the Sweet Soiree establishment to the moment the man was dragged out kicking and screaming by the security guard.
“…after he was gone, I dried off and left the shower room.”
During her confession, Lennox barely blinked.
“From your description of the guy, I’m ninety-nine percent sure of who it was. Sounds like my idiot cousin Sam. A wannabe Jesse James.” He scratched his jaw and started to pace the room. “I know why he picked him though, out of everyone. It proves he was bending his rule a little of leavin’ women alone. Grandpa’s real funny about that, doing anything to women that requires violence. Now in fairness, Sam probably fucked up the orders. He wasn’t supposed to approach you like that in the first place, I’m almost sure of it, but Grandpa wanted you out of the way because he couldn’t think of another way to hurt me. He knows none of his sons and grandsons would respect him if they believed he was sending them out to rough up some lady. Grandpa is a king-sized chauvinist, but regardless, I’ve never seen him lay a hand on no woman. All of his abuse to the women in the family has always been psychological, which may be worse.” He shrugged. “Grandpa found a patsy is all. Someone he hoped he could slide under the radar, but it backfired. He’s gonna try to set me up now because he wants to get in front of my next move. He thinks I’m the same kid from ten years ago who can’t control himself. But I control myself just fine—I just plot things out better now.”
“I can’t disagree with that.” She sucked her teeth, replaying in her mind the news coverage.
“If he doesn’t just sit around and wait to see what I do now that Sam has fucked everything up, he’ll try something crazy to lure me to him so he can either try to convince me that what I see before my eyes isn’t real, or he may even try to kill me. Anything is possible. So that gives us less time.”
“Okay, so what’s your next move?”
“Well, I told you when I explained my plan that I would be going high up the damn food chain. Grandpa is a shark, so the only way to stop him is to ask God to dry up the ocean. I have been in contact with the FBI. They’re aware of my grandfather’s shady activities. Known about it for years. Since the police have been of little assistance due to a good percentage of them being paid off to stay out of his way, we can’t rely on them for assistance. That’s where I come in. It’s been up to me.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a USB.
“What’s that for?”
“On this thumb drive are financial records dating back over fifteen years, the majority of them detailing illegitimate and forbidden accounting activities. My father is meticulous about recordkeeping. He has to be, so he can give the information to other family members for debt collection. The extortion payments. The shady tax practices. The gambling rings. My grandfather owns several legitimate businesses where dirty deeds go down, too. He owns hundreds of rental properties and a small national motel chain. Don’t even get me started on what he sometimes uses those for. Now, if I present this to the FBI, my father will go down with him. I was more than willing to take that chance. After all, my father allowed that piece of shit to do irreparable damage to his marriage, to his family, and to everything he held dear. I had no hesitation until…” Lennox sighed. “Until he stood up for me today. He didn’t even know I was there… He stood in front of the bullet, so to speak.”
“What do you mean? What happened?”
Lennox took a deep breath. “I’ve been painstakingly workin’ on this for months. Grinding! I’ve been meeting secretly with the FBI and giving them all sorts of information, baby—some of the smaller stuff he was dealing with I could verify, but a lot I could not. The big offenses are what they need. Something to sink their teeth into. They’ve been struggling for years to obtain solid, concrete proof and couldn’t even get a search warrant because they didn’t have enough evidence for probable cause. My grandfather has the city on lockdown. It’s hard to get close to him because he has a thousand fortresses. I knew I could get the evidence from my father’s house, though. Like I told you, the plan all along was to get confirmation of him cheating the government, and of him being involved in reprehensible criminal activities. But I, uh…” He shook his head and laughed miserably. “I can’t believe I’m second guessing this now. Shit!”
“You don’t want your father to have to go to prison.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Lennox, I know you two don’t have the best relationship, but the way you’re feeling about this now is understandable. He’s still your daddy, and though you think he’s a fraidy-cat, he did for the most part take care of you and your sister.” Their gazes linked. Surely he could read between the bloody lines. “In your heart, you feel like you owe him by not punishing him this way. Especially since he’s just been doing what he was taught to do. Have you tried to work out a deal with them so that your father is allowed to walk away with no charges if he cooperates?”
“Of course I tried, but that would require him to testify against his father, Nadia, and he’d never do that in a million years. It’s one thing to keep the man’s secrets, to even lie to him to protect his son—but if he does that , become a rat, he’ll not only pay with his life, but it could also put Silva in jeopardy, too. Everyone would go down in flames. A lotta innocent people, too. I’m trying to target one motherfucker, but everything he’s touched is covered in gasoline. So when that match strikes, people better run. Houston will be burning.”
She nodded in understanding, then slowly stood up. She walked up to him, wrapped her hands around the back of his neck, then placed a soft kiss against his lips.
“I’ve been doin’ some thinking since this mess down at the club happened.”
“Yeah, I ’magine so.” He wrapped his arms around her waist, brought her flush to his hard, warm body, and offered a slight grin before placing a tender kiss on her lips. “What’s on your mind?”
“My grandmother told me a story one day. She talked about old medicine, concoctions, remedies from the doulas and Black nurses back in the old days. Some of those medicines helped a woman end a pregnancy. Wasn’t approved by no FDA, and wasn’t sittin’ on no pharmacy shelf either, but they worked. Medicines for a bad back and stomach ulcers, too. Some of ’em were love spells, if you believe in that sort of thing. They had everything, she said, from homemade ointments to make a ninety-year-old man’s dick hard, to stuff that would make you think you were floatin’ in outer space, feelin’ all fuzzy and good on the inside, and it didn’t fuck up your mind and give you sores like this shit that folks are smoking and shooting into their veins today.
“A far-out drug made of nothin’ more than fermented grapes, seeds, a dash of snake spit, and a bit of this and that for flavor. Some of those remedies made you stay up all night. Some of them made you sleep all day. Some made you lose your inhibitions. Some made you forget everything you didn’t want to think about. Others made you aggressive… or horny. Some just brought out the real you. She said many times they actually worked because she’d taken her share of them to know. People just had to realize what they were doin’, who to get the right stuff from, and how to take the correct amount.”
“This is all very interesting, baby, and if I were in a better mood I wouldn’t mind the discussion, but what does this have to do with my grandfather needin’ to go to Hell without dragging my father down there with him?”
“Well,” she leaned in and stroked his hair, tucking a thick cluster of silky black loose waves behind his ear. “Baby, you can hardly catch an old demon with new solutions. You have to trap them in their own depravities. The new shit, like thumb drives, robots, and fancy technology ain’t always the answer. Sometimes you gotta open an old ass, creaky crypt to really get to them dusty bones and make them dance. Hell is almost as old as time. Lucifer, the fallen angel, don’t dance to new melodies. He waltzes to the sounds of angels playin’ harps. It’s time to make some music,” she whispered in his ear, then told him more. So much more, and soon she felt his face against her own, tightening with a smile…
Grandpa’s house used to be her refuge. The last time she’d been there, she’d left with a new gold Bible, the pages thick and gold-lined as well, and a big, beautiful white box full of apple turnovers and cherry tarts that Grandpa had ordered from his favorite bakery: Baked Brothers Co. Grandpa had been good to her from the moment she’d entered the world. His paternal love, soothing attention, protection, and support were like sweet white sprinkles on a freshly baked sugar cookie. Now, that cookie was stale, dry, hard and crumbling to pieces.
The love remained, yet was fading fast. What a difference the ugly truth makes. Silva sat in Grandpa’s grand dining room, her mind filled with fantastical ideas, memories, grief and so much more, resolved to do as Lennox said. Act normal. It had been difficult faking it until she made it, as Mama used to say. After all, she’d never been a great actress, often forgetting her lines in the school plays, but she had played one role well. That of pretending to not be disheartened by life’s gut punches. Just like when she was forced to hide her disappointment after having experienced her third miscarriage the prior year. It was rather strange that Lennox had reached out to her on the anniversary of losing her daughter. It had almost seemed like God had stepped in to mend a fence, where another had been broken.
However, Grandpa had arrived with a good word when she’d experienced her last loss. Being the family man that he was, he’d presented her with flowers. He then leaned in close as she lay in the hospital bed, the sheets soaked with her and her husband’s tears. She’d been wearing a thick, bloody pad, which only served as a stark reminder of what once was, along with the tremendous emotional pain. He’d told her that one day, God would grant her wish. ‘Don’t give up. God grants babies in the most surprising ways. Miracles happen every day.’ Then, he’d given her a loving kiss on the forehead.
…As a grandmother would. Or so many would think. Grandpa, however, played both parts. She never thought about how odd that had been until that moment. He had a treasure trove of ex-wives, the majority of them still above ground, all grandmothers who were in their adult children’s lives, but not one had stepped foot in that house in recent years. Perhaps Grandpa had told them not to? Perhaps they vowed not to…
“Here you go, honey,” Grandpa said with a syrupy smile as he handed her a cup of iced tea and sat down with one himself. “I even made sure Mildred added extra lemon and honey. Just how you like it.”
“Thank you, Grandpa.” She mustered a smile and brought the drink to her lips, tasting it. Mildred was Grandpa’s first maid who still came around doing small chores here and there. He didn’t have her do too much as she was up in age, but everyone still enjoyed her homemade iced tea and lemonade.
“Now, I know you weren’t supposed to come by till next week to talk about my birthday bash, but thank you for poppin’ by at such short notice, I just, uh, wanted to talk to you about the—”
“Grandpa, speaking of which, we really do need to discuss your birthday party because I’ve been working with the event coordinator and she said there are some singing groups and entertainers coming and what not, and the contracts need to be signed. She said she’s been waiting quite a while for you to do so. In fact, some of the performing acts are supposed to be contacting you directly today to verify where you want them set up, what you want them to do, and maybe I should just—”
“Silva, that can wait.” He waved her off, looking weary. “You make such a big deal about my birthday every year,” he smiled proudly, yet sounding rather tired, “and I thank you for that, sweetheart. The parties are always so festive and nice, but this is way more important than merrymaking. We need to discuss your brother.”
“Lennox? Why?”
“Well, why not?” He threw up his hands. “I know, I know…” He smiled sheepishly and leaned forward. “Okay, I’ll stop foolin’ around. There’s a specific reason. So long ago you two fell out. That broke my heart.” She witnessed the faux frown set into his features. “From my understanding, you still aren’t on the best of terms due to how disrespectful he can be. That aside, I need to speak to him about a specific matter, but I’m hesitant.”
“Why? Don’t you two speak?”
“You see, he and I speak on and off… not often, but a fair amount of times.” He tossed up his hands and let them fall loosely against his thighs. “I got word that he might be in trouble again. I need to find out before I pull him into this other situation I’m going to discuss with you.”
“Trouble? Well,” she sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes, “I shouldn’t be surprised. Lennox is always attractin’ nonsense his way.” She huffed.
“Yeah.” Grandpa leaned back in his chair and sighed loudly, patting his stomach. Where one would expect a man of his age to have a bit of a gut, Grandpa’s stomach was flat as a washing board. “Some folks just never learn, doll. I mean, I made sure the boy didn’t serve a second in jail, you know? Now yes, I know that was a long time ago, and I’ve let bygones be bygones, but I fear he may be on that same path. Not learned his lesson. Here it is. The bad news.” He tsked. “I heard a rumor that he’s messin’ with a real loose woman who’s a known gold digger and lady of the night. He made her his lady. It’s serious. It’s official. She’s of the African American persuasion.”
“Well, okay. The whole prostitute insinuation is concerning, and the gold digger part, too, especially since last I heard Lennox has no gold to dig, but her being Black doesn’t really matter, does it? I mean, this isn’t 1953. So what?” Silva shrugged, then remembered she was supposed to be in character, and slumped back in her seat.
“Oh, I’m not mentioning it as a problem. Just as background info. An understanding, if you will. See, Silva, sometimes when someone has never had anything, they don’t know how to behave when it’s finally given to them. I realize that some Black folks come from impoverished areas of town, grew up in ghettos, and they struggle—I get it. Sometimes it’s because there doesn’t seem to be any accountability for their role in their own troubles, but sometimes not all of that is their fault. I’ve seen racism, hell, we’ve got racists in our friendly circles and in the family, but this is not about the color of her skin. She’s not a good person, sweetheart. Not a good person at all.” His eyes turned to inky slits.
“What exactly has she been doing to Lennox?”
“She’s been spendin’ the little money he has on her—frivolous stuff. To make up for the missing funds, Lennox has been dabbling in get rich quick schemes and is still pouring money down the drain to try and open that gym of his. The bottom line is this: Lennox is gonna run into serious money issues, if he hasn’t already. He’ll lose his little house. His truck that he loves so much. He’s too smart of a guy for that to happen, or so he was until she stepped into the picture. It would be a real shame. You know I’ve tried to get him on my team for a mighty long time.”
“Yes, I know. He’s being stubborn for some reason. It would be a great opportunity for him.”
“It would. He and I need to revisit that situation, for his own sake.”
“Hmph. Well, as much as Lennox is someone I never want to deal with again, I wouldn’t wish prison on him or him being the victim of a shifty deal falling through, or this terrible woman who’s only using him. I hope he’s fine, and that’s all I can pray for.” Her heart thumped hard in her chest as Grandpa stared at her so intensely, it about killed her soul. “What situation did you need to discuss with him besides the money stuff he might have going on?”
“I’m getting to that. Silva, let me ask you somethin’.”
“Yes, Grandpa?”
“Are you aware of yo’ daddy’s drinkin’ problem?” He looked so stern. So serious. Yet his blue eyes narrowed and twinkled—like a shark’s.
“Yes, sir.”
“It’s worse than ever. Before, he could manage it well, but in the last year or so, he’s been intoxicated early in the day. That’s not like him.”
“Unfortunately, I think anyone who knows him realizes he has one too many libations, but he seems to function okay.”
“Mmm hmmm.” Grandpa nodded, his lips in a deep frown. He looked down at his sparkling white dress shoe, bent low, and swiped a speck of dust from it. “Well, unfortunately I think that drinkin’ problem led him to do somethin’ foolish, honey. Something he can’t fix with a spreadsheet or his fancy calculator.”
“What do you think he did?” She took a sip of the tea, then placed it down. Grandpa picked up his glass and did the same.
“I think he called his in-laws, in a fit of grief, and they were talkin’ about your dear mama.”
“Well, that’s okay, right? Nothing wrong with that.”
Grandpa waved his hand. “Naw, ain’t nothin’ wrong with talking about a woman you love, no matter how long she’s been gone,” he offered a tender smile, “especially if you’re still on good terms with the family—all the way out there yonder, in Lebanon. But, uh, your father, in his drunken state, called me right after the conversation. Told me that he might have messed up.” Grandpa took another swallow of his tea. She clasped her hands together, desperately trying to ignore the tickly sensation from the sweat dripping down the center of her back.
“Oh, dear. Ain’t no easy way to say this, sugar.” He slapped his knees and shook his head, as if the weight of the world was on him. “Your father was in a panic, Silva. Told me that, uh, he mentioned that your mama used to, how do I say this? Offer personal services to menfolk, if you will.” She cocked her head to the side, feigning that she wasn’t following his line of thinking. “I know you know about her past… though I’ve never talked about it with you. It’s not fit for conversation. Anyways, he let the cat out of the bag, honey bun. Told ’em that he missed your mama, but she wasn’t the saint they thought she was…” The old man’s eyes darkened, and a flash of evil showed on his face. “…because she’d been a salesgirl for the sin of lust. A trollop. An exotic, high-paid floozy,” he ground out.
Silva reached once more for her glass of iced tea, needing to swallow the scream that begged to come out.
“Oh, no.” She coughed into her fist when the liquid went down the wrong pipe. A hateful heat crawled up the sides of her neck and rested against her cheeks, setting her ablaze. “This is disastrous. This is a big deal in her culture. Her religion.”
“Yes, I imagine it is! I have tried to brainstorm ways to do damage control, you know? Maybe offer a bit of money so that they can relocate to another one of those little Muslim towns they’re in or what not. No amount of money is too much, baby girl, to keep your mama’s family safe, and those graves remaining intact, not desecrated. I understand, accordin’ to your daddy from a chat we had years ago, that they’d pull your mama right up out of that ground like an overgrown weed, and fling those bones every which way but loose, as long as they were no longer buried there by her respectable grandparents. It would be a pity. A real shame.” He shook his head in disgust.
Flashes of the blackmail letter, the damn contract, filled her mind. This ancient piece of excrement parading around town as a man who loved the Lord had written the horrible words to her brother and many of their cousins. How this demonic, decrepit creature sitting before her in his little satin paisley vest with matching shirt, tie, pants and boots pretended to give a damn about anyone but himself was beyond comprehension. He was damn good at being someone that he was not. Had her watching a fictional movie the entire duration of her life. He pretended to be the Disney channel, when really he was a horror movie stuck on replay. Grandpa was an impostor spinning lies as if it were cotton candy on a stick.
“This is one of the pitfalls of lust, but I digress,” he continued. “Though I’m no expert, I know Muslims are less forgivin’ than us Christian Baptists about this sort of thing, and I’d hate to think about all the repercussions that would fall on those poor people. Your grandparents in particular.” He looked rather smug, sitting there pleased as a plum.
“This is a fine mess! Let me call Daddy right now!” Putting on the theatrics, she reached for her purse that was hanging on the back of the chair to get her phone.
“No, No! Your father isn’t fit to talk about this, Silva.”
“Well, why not? Did you ask Daddy to confirm this while he was sober at least?” She slid her purse back onto the chair. “Maybe since he was intoxicated when he called you, he’s mistaken, Grandpa? Maybe he dreamt it up, or it was some nightmare after a long day of drinking?”
“Well, see, I didn’t bring it up to him because I don’t want him to go into some deep depression, Silva. You know that your father is, what’s the word? Sensitive in nature… Not exactly able to keep himself together in times of trouble. He’s a bit of a softie. He doesn’t look the part, but he is—on the inside. He’s a smart boy, a wonderful accountant, and knows the tax laws like the back of his hand, but when it comes to things like this, well, Scott turns into a jellyfish. And about some nightmare or mistake, naw, I doubt it.” He shook his head vehemently. “I know, sober or not, he was tellin’ the truth.
“I believe him. I figure after he sobered up, he forgot the whole damn thing, as he does quite often, so there’d be no need to call him and ask, honey, because either he remembers or he doesn’t, but the results are still the same. He said it. The damage is done. Now your grandparents will have to live with the shame, but especially have to now worry if anyone else is going to find out. Chances are high, they will .” He threw her an earnest look. Then, the corners of his lips began to twitch. She rested her hand against her pants leg and balled up the cotton in her palm, squeezing hard. Grandpa looked down at her hand as she treated her trousers like a stress ball, and his smile grew a little wider.
“You’re upset… that’s understandable, but don’t you worry. We’ll figure this out. Grandpa will take care of it. I’ll make sure your grandparents don’t suffer, and everything will be as it should be, as if they’d never been told at all. That’s a promise.” He leaned forward and tapped her shoulder in a reassuring sort of way. “I just ask one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“That we bring our family back together. Mend it. This has reminded me how important it is to let bygones be bygones, and not allow the past to ruin the future. To not hold our indiscretions over our head. Forgiveness should reign, if you will. I want you and your brother to mend the broken fence.”
Those words in her mind now came back to haunt her.
“Oh, Grandpa, Lennox is—”
“Now, honey,” He held up his hand as he spoke softly. “I know it’s a lot to ask after how rude he’s been, and all the damage he caused that I told you about firsthand, but he deserves a second chance, especially in the midst of this crisis. And maybe that’s what he needs to turn his life around, you know? A talk with his little sister.” He looked downright convincing, making her sick to her stomach.
“…Okay. I’ll think about it.”
“Don’t just think about it, Silva. I need you to do it,” he stated sharply. “You contact your brother, and let him know that his grandparents over there in Lebanon have been informed of your mother’s misdeeds, but Grandpa is gonna make it all go away… as long as he comes on by to see me, so we can talk. Man to man. Finally bury the hatchet. Let God’s rain showers wash all of the hurt away.” He cracked a crooked smile, exposing all of his pearly whites.
She thought about her mother… then how she’d been so young and torn to shreds at Mama’s funeral in Lebanon. Her family insisted that Mama be flown back home, per her wishes, and that her body be buried within three days—as was tradition. She also recalled the American funeral service they’d had for Mama in Houston, where she had to relive the trauma all over again. She thought about it. Over and over. Harder and harder. Right then and there. A tear rolled down her cheek and then another. She smiled internally… Convincing, huh? Wilde blood runs deep.
“Grandpa, I’m going to get some more tea. I have a headache and want to take an aspirin.” She rubbed her head as if her skull was throbbing, then moved to stand up.
“No, you sit there and try to calm down. I’ll get it. I may not be as young as a baby bird anymore, but I can still soar like an eagle,” he joked as he got to his feet.
“Thank you, Grandpa.”
“No problem,” He winked at her, snatched her glass from the table, and headed out of the dining room, out of sight.
Silva looked around, her heart nearly jumping out of her chest. Her adrenaline soared and her head was really hurting now. It was no longer a ruse just to get him away from her. She looked at Grandpa’s glass of tea sitting there… half empty. The little bit of ice that was left sparkled in the brown liquid.
Come on! You told Lennox that you wanted to help! He finally calls you, tells you to do this on your next visit… and he promises it won’t kill him. BUT I’M SCARED! I don’t wanna kill Grandpa… but I want to make this stop! The way he just sat here and lied on my daddy! His own son! Lied on Lennox again, and on his poor girlfriend who I still haven’t even met, but I know it’s not true! I know Daddy didn’t say that to my grandparents. He would never do that, no matter how drunk he was. How could this man sit here and look at me with a straight face, and tell that horrible lie?! How could he do ANY of this?! I have to stick to the plan… I have to stick to the plan!
She looked over her shoulder, and up at the camera in the dining room. She’d purposefully sat in a chair that she knew her back would be turned towards. She was lucky for her lot in this family. His security team never monitored her—they let her be. She’d proven she could be trusted many years ago. Grabbing her purse from off the chair, she quickly dug inside of it, removing a bottle that was labeled as Tylenol. She popped it open and took out two of the pills, then a small satchel of herbs ground into a fine dust that was also stuffed inside of the bottle. She set the two Tylenol down onto the table, undid the satchel that smelled a bit like prunes, and made fast work to dump it into Grandpa’s tea. Her heart leapt out of her chest while she sweated as if caught in a thunderstorm. A horrible, pouring rain that had no ending in sight.
She looked at the glass, and her entire chest felt as if it were going to explode. She blinked several times and nearly screamed. placing her own hand over her mouth in disbelief. The sooty residue floated to the bottom, but a bit of it rose to the top, looking much like ashes perched atop the soft waves in a swimming pool.
IT’S COLD! NOT HOT TEA! IT’S NOT DISSOLVING WELL! SHIT! SHIT! SHIT!
She quickly jammed her finger in the liquid as she heard him approaching, Grandpa’s boots thundering and his steps quick as he whistled a little tune. She swirled the stubborn particles around as fast as she could, then pushed the glass aside. Praying the water would stop swirling like a tornado from the whirlwind motion of her finger before he noticed.
“Sorry about that, sweetheart. Took a bit longer. Mildred was in the ladies’ room powdering her nose and I told her to put a move on it because my grandbaby wanted another tea, with extra lemon.” He chuckled as he handed it to her.
“Thank you, Grandpa, and it’s okay. I’ll be fine, I think. I hope Mildred’s grandson is feeling better. She told me about his cold a couple of weeks ago.”
Grandpa sat down. “Gio is doin’ much better.” He regarded her with narrowed eyes and a scowl.
“Oh boy, you’ve really taken this hard, girlie. You don’t look so well, honey. You’re perspiring, and your complexion is all reddened and splotchy. You look like you’ve seen a ghost and instead of frightening you, it just made you queasy.”
“I’ll be okay, Grandpa. It’s just shocking is all. Sometimes folks are just full of horrible surprises. We tried to so hard to just keep this in the family, but—”
“Well, sometimes the truth has a way of coming out, but on the off chance that your father was mistaken, and he didn’t say such dreadful things, I’ll dig into that after I speak to Lennox. Gotta deal with one fire at a time. Oh,” he put his finger in the air, “and don’t worry about telling Lennox or your father about this discussion we had until I know what we’re dealing with. I will do the talking, okay? Hopefully by then I’ll have more information. You just make nice with him, and tell him that he needs to speak to me as soon as possible. I have to be careful about this, and so do you. Too many chefs in the kitchen spoil the soup.”
She nodded in understanding. With a trembling hand, she reached for the pills, tossed them into her mouth, then chased them with the iced tea. Grandpa reached for his glass and leaned back with a great big smile on his face. He took a gulp, and then another, until it was all gone. As the saying went, the truth was sure ugly, and it was cold going down. Just the type of icy drink Grandpa would need to survive his new residence: The pits of Hell…