Chapter 6 #2
We finished breakfast listening to Delilah’s father preach to us about discipline, faith, and responsibility before we finally scraped the leftovers from our plates into the trash and dismissed ourselves from the table.
I went back downstairs into Delilah’s room and finished getting dressed, putting on the chains, watches, and rings that I didn’t want to wear in front of her parents.
“What’s on your agenda this morning? Want to go to your friends shop and get another tattoo? I think I’m ready for more now.” Delilah asked while sitting on the edge of the bed.
Delilah had been against tattoos for most of her life until she randomly asked me to take her to get one weeks ago. She saw a saying she loved,
“Today I choose to be strong,” which she put on the inside of her forearm to symbolize her fight against lupus. I was happy she took that step. I was happy that she was showing hope and resilience. I needed her to be strong more now than ever.
“I can’t do the tattoo thing this morning. Scotty’s shop is always busy on Saturdays. Plus, I have a business meeting in about thirty minutes.”
“Dang, I was hoping to be with you for a while today. My mother and father are going to the laundromat on the east side, and I really don’t want to be home alone this morning.”
“What about your friends? Dee can’t come keep you company?”
“Maybe, but I would much rather be with you. What kind of business is it that you are handling? You think I don’t know how to act or something?”
I exhaled because I already felt another line of questions about to start.
“Just come, Delilah. I guess you can sit in on this meeting, then I can bring you back here.”
Her face instantly lit up, and she stood to her feet quickly. My first stop this morning was going to Lane Bishelli’s office, and it wouldn’t hurt for her to come.
“Wait, is this anything that could get me and you locked up?”
I smacked my lips.
“If it were some shit like that, I wouldn’t have told you to come. I have to handle some shit with the family lawyer.”
“Oh, okay. Is it about the estate?”
“Yeah, and honestly, I’ll be happy when this shit is over.”
“I know you will, but let me get dressed.” She walked into the closet humming.
A few minutes later, she had put on her Hijab and outside clothing, then she followed me out to my car.
We took off, and by the time we were halfway to the office building, Delilah reached over and turned the music down low enough for conversation.
“Baby, have you thought about what you’re going to invest in when you get all of that money? I’m sure Mecca left you a good amount, considering you are his last living son.”
“Nah, I haven’t. Shit, what money.” The sarcastic response alarmed her because she had concern over her face now.
“Wait, did he leave you anything, babe?”
“Yeah, he did, but I don’t want it. That’s what this meeting with Bishelli is about.”
Delilah burst out laughing like I had just told a joke.
“What’s funny?” I raised an eyebrow.
“What do you mean you don’t want it? Millions of dollars, I’m sure, and you don’t want it?”
“Thirty million and it’s true. I’m giving most of it to charity, and I will still be regular ol me after I sign this paperwork.”
Delilah laughed again, but this time the sound slowly faded once she realized I wasn’t laughing with her.
“Wait, you are serious, Amir?”
“Dead serious.”
She leaned back against the seat, staring at me like she was trying to process whether I’d lost my damn mind or if she had heard wrong.
“Amir, if you are telling the truth, that is irresponsible as hell.”
“How?”
“Because you have a kid on the way now. A child who could potentially have lupus one day, too. Do you understand how expensive medical care is for this disease? What if something happens to me? What if something happens to you? What if your child needs something later in life that you can’t predict right now?
Why give all that money away? That is security for our family? ”
“Because I hated my father. That man treated me like shit my whole life. Nothing with him was about love, but power, control, money, and fear. I watched him ruin people’s lives with money, ruin his kids' way of thinking with it, too. So no, I don’t want anything that was once connected to Mecca.
Not his money, not his businesses, not any of that shit.
I hate I have to carry that nigga’s last name to be honest.”
“But babe, look at it like this. That thirty million dollars is the payback for all those years of him being a horrible person to you. This is the one good thing that can come out of all the pain he caused you.”
“Well, it doesn’t feel good to me.”
“That’s because you are still angry with him personally, Amir. Not the money. You are making a permanent decision based on hurt.”
“It ain’t hurt. I just don’t need his money.”
“You say that now because you’ve never had to think beyond yourself before. Now you do.”
She grabbed my forearm.
“Baby, the biggest thing is that we have a child coming now. One that could potentially deal with health problems later in life. I must reiterate that.”
“Delilah, when I made that decision, I didn’t know that I had a child on the way, and I damn sure didn’t know that you had lupus. It would’ve been good to know, but I knew neither one of those facts, so why throw it in my face now?” I replied, more aggressively than I meant to.
Delilah seemed to shut down instantly after I said that. She turned towards the window, shaking her head with her nose turned up. Her arms folded across her chest, and I knew then that I had pissed her off.
“Delilah, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way.” I tried to grab her arm, but she jerked it away from me.
“Don’t touch me, Amir.”
“Don’t take that personally, Delilah. It came out wrong.”
“How else am I supposed to take it? You feel a way about my lupus and this baby, and it’s evident now, so just take me home and go to your meeting without me. Do what you want to do. That’s all you’ve ever seemed to do ever since I’ve known you anyway.”
“What the fuck does that mean, Delilah?”
“It means that you’re a good person, true enough, but you’re an even better person to yourself.”
“So you’re saying that I’m selfish? If that’s the case, then say it and don’t use that therapist shit on me right now, talking in riddles and shit.”
“Take me home now! I don’t want to talk about this anymore! Take me home!”
Her voice cracked, and I didn’t want to argue with her and upset her even more, so I turned the car around in that moment to take her home and let her cool down. I also needed my space, too.
I’m going to just put my meeting with Bishelli off for the day, because as much as I hated to admit it, some things she was saying had gotten to me.