Maverick #2
Then, soft as a breeze, “You really want me there?”
“I don’t want to go without you.”
I heard her exhale slowly and deeply, like she was letting something go.
“Five days?” she said, her voice lighter.
“Five days, ocean views, rooftop dinners. You, me, him talking, connecting, being, no pressure.”
She laughed low, warm, “You’re serious.”
“Dead-ass.”
Another pause.
“Let’s do it.”
I sat up straighter. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” she said, and I could hear her smile again, “I’ve never been to Greece. In all my years in the Air Force and working with the airline, it was one of the few places my wings never took me, but something tells me it’s about to get interesting.”
“Oh, it will, but in the best way possible,” I assured her.
She laughed again, “I’ll start packing, and you better not let me find out you snore on flights.”
“No promises,” I rebutted before making fake snoring sounds, causing laughter to spill from her lips, bringing a smile to my face. “And don’t bother bringing a ton of clothes. I want you nude as much as possible.”
Her breathing changed. I knew the pattern like I knew my own: arousal, desire.
“Y—Yes, sir.”
“Good Girl.”
As we continued to chat about our pending trip together, my line beeped, and my little brother’s name flashed across the screen. I reluctantly ended my call with Ajaih as I answered.
Already bracing myself, ”Jay, it’s late. You good?"
There was a pause on the other end. Heavy, like he was weighing his words.
"Yeah, well, not really," his voice came through, softer than usual. My little brother always had a way of sounding older than he was, as if life had made him grow up faster than he should have. Probably because of him. Because of them.
I sat up in bed, rubbing a hand over my face. “What’s going on?”
Another pause.
I could hear him breathing, steady but shaky, “It’s... It’s about dad.”
The word dad landed like a brick in my stomach, causing my jaw to tense immediately. Even after all these years, any mention of him still had that effect on me.
I exhaled through my nose, trying to keep my voice level. “What about him?”
“He’s sick, Blue,” James said softly, calling by the nickname everyone back home called me due to my love for the color blue as a child.
“Real sick. The doctors said it’s his heart. He’s in the hospital now and keeps asking for you.”
I couldn’t help the bitter laugh that escaped my chest. “Asking for me? Now?”
“I know how that sounds.”
“No, you don’t, Jay. You don’t know how that sounds to me.” My voice cracked around the words, the anger mixing with something heavier underneath. “Where’s Michelle? Why isn’t she the one calling me?”
“She... she didn’t want to,” he admitted, like the words physically pained him. “She figured you wouldn’t want to hear from her or him, so she asked me to call.”
I stood up and started pacing my bedroom, running a hand over my hair because suddenly room suddenly felt too small, too full of ghosts I thought I’d left behind.
“Of course she didn’t, God forbid she face the mess she helped create.”
“Mav…” James’ voice wavered. “I’m not calling to defend them. I’m just delivering the message.”
I stopped pacing and closed my eyes, leaning my forehead against the wall.
My chest burned with the old familiar rage.
Rage I’d been carrying since I was a child, since the man I once called dad started drilling his hate into me the minute he realized his stepson wasn’t the son he wanted, since my mother looked away.
At the same time, I was torn apart mentally and emotionally under her roof.
“He hated me, Jay,” I said quietly, my voice hoarse, “You remember what it was like.”
“I do,” James said, his voice filled with empathy, “I remember everything.”
“He called me disgusting, told me I was broken, prayed I would burn for being who I am.” My voice cracked again, “And she just sat and watched.”
The silence on the other end was full of grief.
“I know, Mav,” James said, his voice low and sad, “I saw it. I heard it. I never forgot.”
I swallowed hard, my throat tight and raw. “And now what? Now he wants me to what, come home? Play the good gay son? Sit at his bedside and pretend none of that happened?”
“No,” James said gently, “Nobody’s asking you to pretend. I’m just telling you what he said. He’s been asking for you, that’s all.”
My head continued spinning. Part of me wanted to throw the phone across the room. Part of me wanted to scream. And part of me, God help me, felt something else, something I didn’t want to name.
“Is he dying?” I finally asked, voice low.
“They don’t know yet, but it’s serious. I’ll know more in the coming days, and if you want to know, I’ll keep you posted.”
I let out a shaky breath, my body vibrating with emotion I didn’t know what to do with. “Why now?” I whispered.
James was quiet for a moment. “Maybe he’s scared, maybe he knows what he did, even if he never said it out loud.”
“I don’t need his deathbed guilt, Jay. Assuaging his guilt doesn’t fix what he took from me. Love, he took love from me, and I had to go out in the world and find it elsewhere. Do you know how dangerous that could have been for a young bisexual black boy?”
“BI?” Jay asked his voice full of surprise, “When did you start swimming in the pussy pond, big bro?” He continued to probe, causing me to laugh out loud.
“I have a woman, but later for that,” I said, steering the conversation back to the topic at hand.
“Right, right. You don’t owe him anything. I promise you that, but if you wanted to say all the things to him that you never got the chance to, you can do it for yourself.”
The lump in my throat swelled yet again: “I’m so damn tired of carrying this.”
“I know,” His voice broke, “I know you are.”
I rubbed my eyes, trying to blink back the tears threatening to fall. I hadn’t cried over James Sr. in years, not since I left that house and swore I’d never look back.
“I love you, little bro,” I whispered, “I need you to know that.”
“I know, Mav, I love you too, and whatever you decide, I’ve got you.”
“I need some time,” I said, “I need to think.”
“Take all the time you need. I just wanted you to hear it from me.”
We sat there in silence for a long moment, breathing together across the miles.
“Thanks for calling, Jay,” I finally said, “For being the one who always tells me the truth.”
“Always.”
“I’m heading out of the country with Ajaih, and I’ll let you know if and when I’m coming when we get back.”
“Bet. Y’all be safe and have fun,” he said, his voice lighter than when he first called, and then the line went dead.
I stood there for a long time, staring at the phone in my hand, my heart caught somewhere between fury and grief, between the past and the pieces of who I was still trying to become.