At Last (30 page)

             
Uncle Freddie never married and didn’t have any children, so he loved Cliff and his sisters like they were his. He loved his brother, but admittedly harbored resentment for his younger brother Clifford Sr. for the instability he’d placed upon them.

             
Uncle Freddie’s lawyer, Gary Stevens, was an older, short man with balding brown hair. He entered the office and sat behind his large mahogany desk. As he opened his mouth, everyone hung on to his every word.

             
Clifford Jr. sat away from everyone else in the back of the office next to a window. He was devastated by his uncle’s death and it was written all over his face. He would’ve rather went back to Frederick’s house to be alone than wait to hear what some lawyer had to say. He knew whatever it was in the will wouldn’t do anything to bring him back.

             
His mother and two sisters sat in the chairs close to the desk and Clifford Sr. leaned on the wall grinning ear to ear waiting on what Mr. Stevens had to say. Clifford Jr. couldn’t stand it. He thought to himself that his father was just as self-serving as he’d always been. Nothing had changed. He didn’t understand how he could smile about anything when they’d just buried his brother an hour ago.

             
“Hello. You all have my condolences. I’m sorry to keep you all waiting.” He said as he sat behind his large mahogany desk.

             
“No problem. You’re here now. That’s what matters.” Clifford Sr. said out of the blue.

             
Everyone in the room glared at him. Mr. Stevens looked unsure as to how to reply to him.

             
“I don’t want to keep you folks waiting any longer than you I have to. I’ll get on with it.” He said picking up the will and prepping himself to recite it, I Fredrick Lewis Andrews, being of sound mind hereby leave the following to my sister-in-law, Wilma Andrews, $10,000.”

             
Wilma covered her mouth in surprise. She was completely stunned. Frederick had no obligation to Wilma, as she’d been divorced from his younger brother for years. The fact that he’d left her anything, in her mind, showed the character he truly had.

             
“Secondly, I leave my niece Carmen $7,500.  I hope you use it wisely. Remember that no matter what, you need to be there for your family. Never forget that.” Mr. Stevens read.

             
Clifford Jr. smacked his teeth and Carmen looked back at him. Carmen shook her head. Her eyes were full of hurt, but Clifford didn’t care. He wished his uncle had given her the advice earlier. Maybe he’d still be in New York if he had. Cliff took a deep breath and continued to look out the window as Mr. Stevens continued to read.

             
“To my niece Chanel, who will become a pediatrician, I am leaving $7,500. I’m also leaving you enough money to pay off your tuition for the next four years at NYU. Good luck to you.”

             
Chanel began to weep. Wilma grabbed her and held her to comfort her. She took her uncle’s death hard.

             
“I can’t believe it, Momma.  I can’t believe it.” She said as her mother rocked her back and forth.

             
Wilma had tears in her eyes as she kissed Chanel on the top of her head,   “I know, baby. I know. Uncle Freddie was a special man.”

             
By now, Mr. Stevens had stopped.

             
“Keep going.” Clifford Sr. ordered.

             
Mr. Stevens cleared his throat and continued, “I know you will do great things, Chanel.

             
“To my brother Clifford Sr., I hope you realize what a beautiful family you have. I was never blessed with a loving wife and beautiful children like you, dear brother.  Yet you were and you took them for granted.”

             
Although Mr. Stevens was reciting the words, everyone felt as if Frederick was speaking directly to them.

             
“However, you are my younger brother and I always loved you-there’s no denying that.  I leave you $5000.  I hope you do what makes you happy with it. I beg you to one day open your eyes and realize what you have. You have something that people would give their lives for-family” Mr. Stevens read with slight hesitation. Clifford Sr. was piercing straight through him, and it made him extremely uncomfortable.

             
“You
must can’t
read. Give that to me.” Clifford Sr. said approaching Mr. Stevens.

             
“Sir, I have to ask you to calm down. I assure you that these are Mr. Andrews’ wishes. I have no alliances or allegiances to anyone outside of Frederick Andrews.”

             
“I’m going to take a smoke.” Clifford Sr. announced heading toward the door.

             
“You don’t wanna hear the rest, Daddy?” Chanel asked still in her mother’s arms.

             
“I’ve heard enough.” He said grabbing the doorknob.

             
“Clifford, stay put. Don’t disrespect your brother in death.”  Wilma said sternly.

             
He turned to her with disdain in his eyes before leaning against the wall.

             
“I’m sorry for the interruption. Will you please continue?”  Wilma said told Mr. Stevens.

             
“Sure...“And to my nephew, Clifford Jr. who was just floating through life. You have turned your life around and I’m proud that you have found direction in your life.

             
“You came to me as a wild youth who’d always been in trouble. Somewhere along the way, you became a man capable of doing anything you put your mind to. You are going to do great things, I guarantee. And one day when you have your family I know that you are going to be a great father and provider for them. You have unlimited potential.”

             
Clifford Jr. hung on every word. His uncle had been everything that his father wasn’t. Although he was hard on him, he was straight up. When he’d first come to live with him after his situation with Carmen and Sean, Frederick made it extremely clear as to what he expected of him.

             
Clifford never really worked when he lived in Brooklyn, not a legit job at least. He was a hustler by trade. There was a building that he’d work out of in Brooklyn when he would skip school.

             
He barely even graduated. His only motivation was not disappointing his mother, even though he knew she was already disappointed and hurt about his drug dealing. Clifford was never focused on anything but taking the easy way out.

             
But Uncle Frederick demanded that Cliff get a trade and a real job.

             
“If you gon’ stay with me, you better do something with yourself or yo ass will be right back in the streets. Ya dig? It’s up to you though.” Frederick told him while filling up his truck with Clifford’s belongings after picking him up from the Greyhound bus station.

             
It was the first thing his uncle said to him. There was no “Hey, Cliff”. No, “How you been”.  There was nothing close to a greeting.  In fact, he followed it up with a simple statement.

             
“Look nigga, you ain’t bout to lay up in my house and not do shit. I’m not taking care of a grown ass man.”

             
Clifford smiled to himself as he thought about his uncle. He taught him how to be a man. His words gave him comfort. He focused his attention back on the Mr. Stevens.

             
“I know you believe that I changed your life by having you come and live with me, but you changed mine.  You brought happiness to my life and I want to thank you for that. Everything that you have accomplished is because you worked hard for it.

             
“You not only became a successful barber, you became success as a person. Because of this, I Fredrick Andrews, leave my nephew, Clifford Julian Andrews Jr., $125,000.”

             
Clifford Jr. buried his face in his hands.  He closed his eyes thanking God and his uncle. He couldn’t believe it.  He didn’t expect his uncle to leave him anything.  He didn’t know his uncle even had anything to leave him or his family for that matter.  He knew his uncle was tight and kept a strong hold on his money, but he just charged it to him just being cheap.

             
All eyes were on Clifford Jr. Shock was written on everyone’s face but his father’s. His father was
furious. He could see it in his eyes. He wasn’t sure if it was solely because of the money or because he felt his brother had stolen his only son. Clifford Jr. stared back unfazed. Clifford Sr. focused his attention back to Mr. Stevens.

             
“You done?”
He asked.

             
Mr. Stevens felt the tension in Clifford’s voice. He cleared his throat and continued to read, “In addition, I leave you my residence at 85 Boston including all its contents. I hope you use it wisely. I know you will make me proud.
Signed Frederick Andrews.”

             
A silence swept over the room. Clifford Jr. was still in a state of amazement. He finally stood up and made his way toward Mr. Stevens and shook his hand.

             
“Thank you.”

             
“You’re more than welcome.” He said before turning his attention to the rest of the family,
             
“Thank you all for taking the time out to come here. Once again you have my condolences.”

             
After a little of small talk amongst themselves and Mr. Stevens, Cliff and his family headed back to his uncle’s home. Once they arrived, Wilma, Carmen and Chanel l
ai
d down.  Cliff wanted to do the same, but was interrupted by his father. Clifford Sr. poured himself a glass of Jack Daniels on the rocks with a splash of lemon.

             
“C.J, come have a drink with your old man.”

             
Although Cliff had an idea of what his father wanted, he tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. He went into the kitchen with his father and sat on one of the stools.

             
“Got a beautiful house here.”
Clifford Sr. said smiling.

             
“I guess.” He replied looking his father straight in the eyes trying to control his anger. His left jawbone began to twitch.

             
“I’m just going to put it out on the table. What are you going to do with all that money?”

             
Cliff stood up angrily, “You fuckin’ serious?”

             
“I can’t ask you a question?  You still my son no matter what my brother thought!”  He yelled approaching Cliff belligerently. The two men stood face to face with nothing between them but hostility.

             
“What you gonna do, wup me? It ain’t my fault Freddie was more of a father to me than you.”

             
Cliff didn’t mean to say it, but he’d been holding it back for years. It had been on his heart since Clifford Sr. packed up and left for Harlem overnight when he was fifteen.

             
He could see in his father’s eyes that his words had hurt him, but he doubted it hurt as badly as him wishing for his daddy to be a father. It was beyond the money, and both Clifford Sr. and Jr. knew that.

             
Cliff turned his back to his father and went to his room. He heard in the distance his father yell something.

             
“I will always be your father!”

             
That was the last time that he and his father had a real conversation about anything. From that point on, there were only missed phone calls and halfhearted holiday cards. Their meeting at his house was the first time he’d seen his father since.

             
Clifford glanced over to Keisha as he continued to drive. She caught his eyes with hers.

             
“You okay?” She asked.

             
“Just thinking about my father.”
He said directing his eyes back on the road.

Chapter Twenty-Three

             
“I love you.” Clifford said to me as we lay in the bed facing each other.  It was our last night in New York. I couldn’t say I wasn’t ready for it to end.
             
Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed meeting Cliff’s family and getting to know Chanel and Ms. Wilma, but I was anxious to get back home and start a new chapter in my life with Cliff and Taylor.

             
“I love you too baby.” I said as I stroked his cheek.  He grabbed my hand and kissed the inside of my palm. He pulled me closer to him then took his large hand and began to trace down my breasts, stomach, and belly button.