Chapter 14
“ B ruh, pay attention. You up,” Dax says, sounding annoyed.
“My bad,” I say before positioning my cue on the table. After I call and make my shot, I turn and look at him. “My mind’s all over the damn place. I might as well hand you this bill; you won.”
“Nah. Don’t try that shit. Nigga, you losing fair and square,” he boasts before calling and making his shot. He makes the next four, winning the game. He snatches the two hundred-dollar bills from under our phones on the corner of the pool table. He turns to the two men standing by the dart boards. “Our next hour is yours. We out,” he tells them.
Although we paid for two hours, he can see my head ain’t in the game. ’Cause it ain’t. I finally heard back from my sister, Lyra, and she’s fixing Aryel’s braids for the tournament tomorrow. I dropped her off then asked Dax to meet me up here at Local Cue. I thought a drink, some pool, or maybe darts with my brother would ease my mind. Between this Aria shit and these past two days with Truce, I’m stressed.
After placing our pool sticks back on the rack, we grab our drinks and trek to our table in the lounge area here on the VIP side. As soon as we are seated, our server walks over with two drinks: another Hennessy Paradis on the rocks for me and Black Barrel neat for Dax.
Reading both of our puzzled facial expressions, she quickly says, “From the two ladies over there.”
She nods to her left and I turn to see two sistas smiling. The one with long braids mistakes my look for something else and eases out of their booth, heading toward us. Dax raises his eyebrows and I just shake my head because she’s wasting her time.
“There’s nothing better than two sexy ass Black men,” she says, smiling from ear to ear.
Dax raises his glass to his mouth then eyes me. He’s leaving me to let ol’ girl down. So I grab the two drinks she sent over then raise them up toward her. Her eyebrows pinch together and she tilts her head, looking perplexed.
“Thanks but we’re good. You should enjoy your drinks,” I say as politely as I can.
She doesn’t make any movement to retrieve the glasses. Instead, she looks to Dax. This nigga still has his glass to his face but I can see the dumbass, smug look on his face. Then she looks at the glasses and back down to me as if she can’t believe what’s happening.
“Those are for you. A simple, nice introduction,” she finally says, still smiling. “Me and my coworker stopped by for a quick drink, saw two very attractive Black men, and decided to introduce ourselves. I’m Mia, by the way.”
“Sorry but neither one of us is interested in an introduction. Again, thanks, but take your drinks back,” I tell her.
This time her smile drops and turns into a scowl. “Wow! It’s a damn drink,” she says, voice lower and less friendly. Her hand raises and her pointer finger shoots up. This chick is mad. While waving her finger, she snaps, “On second thought, you aren’t as handsome as I thought.” Dax chuckles while I shake my head. That pisses her off more and her finger drops then she snatches the glasses, spilling some of the Henn. “Fuck both of you,” she yells before storming off.
Dax bursts out laughing as soon as she’s out of our area. “What the fuck! She was pissed, bruh,” he says.
“For no reason and I was polite as hell too. I was just trying to let her save face. Shit, you’re engaged and there’s only one woman on my mind. Neither one of them even compares to Truce,” I tell him before taking another sip of my drink.
“Man…women,” he says before finishing his drink. He motions for our server then looks at me. His expression turns more serious. “But what’s up with you? You been spaced since we got here,” he says.
“Aria, for one,” I admit.
“What now?”
“She claims she’s coming here for Aryel’s spring break. She’s getting married.”
“Good,” he interjects before sipping from his glass.
“Facts. Although I really couldn’t care less about that. It’s her coming here.” My next words cause me to laugh a little as I even say them. “She wants me to pay for her and the nigga. That shit is already a fucking red flag. I paid for her last trips here just ’cause momma thought I should do whatever needed for Aryel but I ain’t doing that shit now. Real talk, I don’t want her to see Aryel at all and I think Aryel feels the same way. She basically told me that she does. I can’t keep letting Aria let down and hurt my baby.”
“And you shouldn’t. Baby girl has everything she needs. You make sure of that, not Aria ,” he stresses. “Aria decided to leave; let her live in that fucked up choice.”
“I know. Trust me. It’s just that sometimes, I worry she’s going to miss out on having her mother,” I admit.
This shit isn’t as easy as it sounds. I’ve been torn over this for a minute. I know deep down that Aria isn’t a good mother. Hell, I’m not even sure why she even tries. She left her baby, her own fucking child, and this half-ass shit she does now ain’t working. But I kept thinking if I cut her completely out of Aryel’s life, my baby girl may resent me later for keeping her mom from her. That was until she told me that she didn’t want to see her mother. That fucked me up, bad, and I’m now regretting each time I allowed Aria to disappoint my daughter.
“She can’t miss what she never really had. Plus, she has Momma, Lyra, Chantel, any maybe even yo’ girl, Truce,” he says, smirking when he speaks her name. That’s when I take a swig of my drink and shake my head. “Oh shit. Don’t tell me you fucked that up. Already?”
“Nah. I don’t think so but something’s up. We just started but we went from talking or texting a few times a day to just one call and one text these last two days. I know she’s been dealing with her mom’s death so I don’t want to pressure her, but shit,” I say, frustrated.
“Then nigga why you here with me?” he says and his words are true as hell.
Why am I here with him?
“You shole right. Shit!” I say, agreeing with him. I need to go see what’s up with my Truce. I’ve waited too fucking long to get to this point with her for me to let any distance with us linger. I stand and reach into my pocket for my wallet.
“You go. I got this. I’mma chill for a minute. Chantel is at the house with Chloe.”
“Shit. I forgot her sister was here.”
“Yeah, the wedding is getting close and sis is here to help Chantel finally pick the location.”
“She still don’t have a spot nailed down?”
“Hell nah. I told her that I don’t care. I’ll marry her any damn where but she wants the perfect place.” He smiles then sits up. “Go handle yo’ business.”
“I am. I really am,” I assure him as I dap him up.
As soon as I’m in my ride, I hit Lyra. She answers with an attitude. “You know that you don’t have to check on my niece when she’s with me, right?”
“Chill. I just want to see how it’s going.”
“We decided on a new style instead of a touch up.”
“Still no fake hair,” I say.
“Rex!”
“Okay. What kind of style?”
“Two ponytails with clear beads. I took the other ones out and washed her hair. The conditioner is on her hair now. I haven’t started braiding her yet so it’s going to be a minute.”
“Well, I’m going to send dinner. Ask her if she wants Leonardo’s. Those mini pizzas?”
“Damn! What if I don’t want pizza,” she snaps but the laughter in her voice lets me know she’s just fucking with me. “Hold on. Let me ask her.” From the change in sound, she must have switched the phone to speaker. Seconds later, I hear what sounds like a dryer. “It’s your daddy. He wants to know if you want some pizza.”
“Oh, I do. Tell him yes. Two mini ones with just pepperoni. I don’t like the other stuff,” Aryel says.
“You heard her and order me a supreme calzone with extra dipping sauce, the pizza one.”
“Auntie,” I hear Aryel say. “Ask him can I have one of the slushes, the lemon one please.”
“He hears you,” Lyra says. Then, she says, “Add two Italian slushes. The strawberry-lemonade ones.”
“I got you. I’m placing the order now.”
“Thanks.”
“And when I do come scoop Aryel, you are going to tell me what’s up with you,” I say. For almost a week, Lyra fell off and neither me, my mom, nor Dax could get up with her. I asked her about it when I dropped Aryel off after school but Lyra brushed me off, pretending like she didn’t hear me.
“There’s nothing up with me. I’ve been busy at the salon. That…is…all. Goodbye, Rex,” she huffs then ends the call. I’m not going to let it go that easily though because disappearing like she did isn’t her. Lyra talks to my mom every day, really several times a day, so I know something is up.
After I place their delivery order in the Munchies app, I start my ride then head to Truce’s. With traffic, I pull into her condo parking lot within thirty minutes. I get out, walk in, nod at big man at the security desk, then walk to the elevator. The door to the one on the right is open so I walk into it and press her floor.
When I ring her bell, the door opens immediately. She’s dressed in a pair of ripped black jeans and a brown T-shirt, with no shoes. Her eyes are swollen and bloodshot and her long black hair is all over the place. After running her hand through the top of her hair, she steps back and says, “Come in.”
Her words are barely above a whisper and the sadness in them matches her eyes. Seeing her in this state is fucking with me heavy and all I want to do is pull her into my arms and somehow take her sadness away. So, I step forward but she steps back. But when her hands reach up to brush the tears falling off her cheeks, I close the door and rush to her. Right before I wrap my arms around her, she starts shaking her head fast as hell then holds her hands up.
“No, please. You can’t fix this. I can’t let you hold me and make me feel better,” she cries.
The fuck?
“Ay, that don’t make no sense,” I say, then snake my hand around her. She places her hands on her face and when I pull her into me, her hands initially push into my chest but when I kiss the top of her head, she stops resisting. She sighs loudly then drops her head onto my chest. “My job is to always make you feel better,” I tell her as I wrap my other arm around her.
When she’s encased in my arms, her sobs turn into loud cries and she screams into my chest. An actual, full, agony-filled scream vibrates through me and suffocates this living room. Her excruciating shrill causes a sharp sensation of pressure in my chest and I hold her tighter, trying to ease whatever has her obviously hurting.
I don’t say shit though because I don’t have the words and from the sound of her cries, I don’t even know which words are needed right now. So, I hold her, mutedly, then slowly walk us over to her sectional. I ease back on it and pull her down with me. She continues to cry, softer, and I still just hold her. I’ll hold her all evening if this is what she needs.
Her soft cries eventually fade to a whimper, then to a few sniffles. I feel her arms drop and her body shift before she lifts her head. Her sad but pretty eyes peer up to mine then she shakes her head. When her eyes lower and she starts to bow her head, I place my hand under her chin to stop her.
“You want to tell me what’s wrong?” I ask and she shakes her head. “Why not?”
“Because she will still hate me,” she mumbles.
“Who?” I ask. Tears fall down her cheeks and I gently thumb them away. When I do, her eyes lift, she shakes her head, then scoots off my lap. She sighs and that shit is heavy as hell. I feel it all in my chest. “Beautiful, what’s wrong? Who?” I question, trying to figure out who or what she’s talking about because now I see this ain’t about her mother.
More tears fall and she wipes them away this time then sucks her teeth. In a somewhat angry tone, she huffs, “Every time I’m around you, I’m crying. Do you realize that shit?” But she doesn’t give me time to answer. “Every time and I never cry. No. Not Truce Redmond. I’m a lot of things but a crier? Hell no. I don’t cry because tears don’t change a gotdamn thing. Ugh!” While shaking her head, she furrows her eyebrows then stares into my face. “You need to run while you can.”
“Run? Ay, I’m not going no damn where,” I assert.
“You should,” she utters. Then, she lets her body and head fall back on the sectional. “What happened to Aryel’s mother?” she asks out of no where, seemingly changing the conversation. My eyes question her but she insists. I don’t have any issues with telling her; it’s her timing.
Why now? At this moment?
“Please tell me. I need to know.” Her big pretty eyes expand and she pleads with me through them so I just go with it.
“Aria and I met in Vegas. I was fighting there and she was a ring girl,” I begin and her eyebrows raise when I say ring girl. “The girls that hold up the round cards in boxing matches,” I explain and she nods, slightly. “I had seen her at a couple events but after my Bowden match, she approached me. It was after eleven at night and she asked me to breakfast. She was actually from Vegas and knew of some all-night dinner off the strip that served it. We went, and really, she never left my side after that.”
“Love at first sight,” she utters.
“Nah. It wasn’t that at all. That only happened once when I was in junior high,” I admit and her eyes perk up. She knows I’m talking about her. “But I felt like we had a connection and it grew into love, at least for me. I thought it was for her too but I know now that it was about the fame and the money with her. She went everywhere with me and never missed a photo opportunity. I mistook that shit for support though.
“We married six months after we met and she moved to Miami with me. My condo wasn’t enough for us so I built us a home. Nothing was ever enough but I was so busy fighting my way to the belt that I didn’t see that shit. I definitely overlooked it when she got pregnant. I was so damn happy and just ready to be a dad. Aryel was born three months after I won the heavyweight championship and everything changed for me. My baby girl and my wife were all that mattered to me.”
“Then,” I sigh, the memories of that time flashing in my mind. As if by reflex, I stretch out my left arm and make a fist. “Then, every fucking thing changed. A drunk driver totaled my ride and ended my boxing career. It ended my marriage too. Since I was no longer a boxer, she didn’t want to be my wife anymore. I went to physical therapy and when I got back to my home, she was gone. Really gone and she took everything but our child. She left Aryel with the nanny, loaded her Benz with her clothes and shit, and dipped.”
“She left a fucking note on the bed. A note; she couldn’t even face me and tell me. I was angry, mad as hell, but I had my baby to think about. So I did just that. I took care of Aryel.”
“She left her baby?” Truce asks incredulously.
“Yeah. She did,” I say.
“How could she do that? Leave her own baby,” she says. As she shakes her head, her tears return, pouring out.
“I don’t know. She came back into her life but that shit has been half-ass. Deep down, I don’t think she wants to be a momma.”
“And that’s all I wanted,” she mumbles but I hear her. Before I can ask what that means, she blurts out, “I’m fucked up, Rex.”
She’s not making any sense and I’m back to being confused. I don’t know what the hell is going on. She can’t stop crying and keeps switching the course of our conversation. Trying to decipher this, her, I inch closer then wrap my arms around her.
“You are the least fucked up person I know. What is going on? Tell me. Why are you crying?” I ask, pleading for her to tell me so I can do something, anything, to properly console her. I’m in the blind right now and don’t know what to do.
“Daija. She’s not my sister. That year I left Ridge Pointe… I was pregnant and I couldn’t keep her. I couldn’t keep my baby, Rex. They made her my sister and now she knows. She knows and she’s never going to forgive me,” she rushes out then exhales like she was holding her breath the entire time she spoke.
She tries to wiggle out of my arms, retreating, but I hold onto her firmly. I’m not letting her run. Her pain is evident. She’s really hurting and needs me.
I can’t lie; I wasn’t expecting this. Not at all. But I’m not too surprised either. I honestly didn’t know too much about her except that she saved me. She stopped those bitch ass niggas from bullying me, and for that, she was my angel. Nothing else mattered to me. Besides, shit like this happened a lot back then. A few girls got pregnant in middle school and in a small town like this, people talked. Everybody had opinions. Shit was always said and most of the girls dropped out. We were kids back then and I can’t imagine what she even went through.
“I promise; she doesn’t hate you,” I assure her as I lift her head. I want her to fully see me when I say my next words. “Daija loves you and she knows you love her. You were a child and things were different back then. You had to do what you were told. She’ll realize that shit and come around. She just needs time. Trust.”
“But what if she doesn’t come around?”
“I’m not even worried about that and you shouldn’t either. She will.”
“From your lips to God’s ears, I hope so,” she sighs.