Brothers and Wives (16 page)

Scottie tells me okay, then leads the way down a gravel-covered path to an area of the backyard that has a raised oak deck with ten lawn chairs situated around a table filled with sodas, candy, and miniature hot dogs.

Summer and I take a seat while Scottie observes the other guests.

“As you were saying?” Summer asks as she eyes Scottie. “Dani, this is fucking unbelievable. A man with a plan. Do you know how rare that is?”

“Having a plan is nothing. Executing it is what’s important.”

“Well, I not only have goals, I have the vision and determination to see all this stuff happen in my life. Don’t forget I’ve practically been on my own since I was a teen,” Scottie says.

“I never knew all this.”

“After my father passed away, I set out to make my own path. Neil couldn’t keep up with me.”

“Ahhh, the infamous older brother who loved your woman before you even knew she existed. How’s that working out?”

“Summer!” I shriek. “Not now.”

Scottie turns away from us and holds a conversation with a guy dressed in a red Thriller jacket.

“Why not? This is something you’ll have to deal with. It’s obvious your boo is crazy about you. I notice how he keeps staring at you, smiling, and he looks like he wants to touch your arm, your hand, your face every second. He knows who he wants and isn’t ashamed. But the fact that his brother’s child could one day be his stepson is an absolute bitch. It is quite fascinating in my opinion.”

“Summer, wipe the grin off your face,” I say, feeling embarrassed. Everything she’s saying is true. But I’m just not ready to face the seriousness of our complicated situation. I have tried so very hard to keep a tight lid on my emotions when it comes to how I feel about Scottie. Do I like Scottie for himself, or is it because I could never have his brother the way I wanted to have him?

Scottie finally takes a seat next to us.

“Don’t think you’re the first one to have to deal with this,” Summer replies. “Have you heard the true Hollywood story about how Woody Allen married Mia Farrow’s young adopted daughter? I saw it on one of those entertainment shows recently. Anyway, it was such a huge scandal. But Woody and the girl didn’t care. They went on with their lives, and I think they’re still married to this day.”

“Soon-Yi,” I softly say to myself. “Yes, I saw that same show. This ugly ass weirdo is twice her age. He sneaked behind his partner’s back and was having sex with her, and she was a twenty-one-year-old woman at the time. He’s white. She’s Korean. And Mia Farrow never spoke to that girl again, but, still, it’s crazy how someone who Mia used to love and care for hurt her with that level of betrayal.”

“I agree,” Summer tells me as she sips her punch. “But let’s step into the real world. People like us probably couldn’t get away with some sick-ass stuff like they did.”

I shift in my seat, feeling uneasy. Although I’ve told Summer how great Scottie is to me, I still haven’t let her in on who LaNecia is and how he and his cousin were involved. Some things are too hard to talk about, even with your best friend.

Summer continues, “It’s like the scandal hits, people gasp, and everyone goes on with their happy little dysfunctional lives. Hollywood is not real. Neil isn’t Mia. You aren’t betraying your relative.”

“Scottie would be, though,” I quickly reply. “What if Neil never speaks to Scottie again? Or me? Or what if he doesn’t want to be bothered with Brax ever again because of a decision that we’ve made? I may not act like I care, but in reality, yes, it bothers me sometimes.”

“Hey, hey, hey. I would love to be included in this conversation, especially since I seem to be the topic,” Scottie says. “I don’t want you to be stressed out over us. Over anything. I got you, boo!”

And that’s what I love about Scottie Meadows. He’s a calming presence in my hectic life. I’ve been independent for so long that it feels wonderful to know that someone else is there willing to take over the reins.

“Love is sometimes selfish.” Summer shrugs. “Think about it. What if almost every girl is in love with the most popular guy in high school? He’s attractive, charming, friendly, and popular. But he only has eyes for one main girl. And he chooses to take her to the prom. And the other girls feel hurt, angry, and jealous. Now, I’m talking about a situation where no one is anyone else’s brother, or adopted daughter, or ex-anything. Yet people are getting hurt left
and right. The guy who was so beloved by many women has now made twice as many enemies because now the women who had a crush on him are hurt, and whoever else they’ve told is also mad as hell at the guy because he hurt the women who were in love with him.”

“Extreme analogy, but guess what? You’re right. There will be pain inside of love. Shit, when I gave birth to Brax, it hurt like hell. A million times worse than cramps. But I loved him the second I laid eyes on him. Men are such bastards.”

Scottie blinks. “Where’d that come from?” Before I can answer, he looks away and tilts his head.

“Ah, hell. Sounds like someone is playing some Run DMC. It’s all over.” He hops to his feet and starts dancing.

We spend another two hours at the party. Whenever one of Scottie’s friends arrives, he introduces me as “my gal.” I blush and try to engage his buddies in conversation for several minutes. Other times Summer and I steal away to a private area, giggling and laughing at people’s outrageous costumes.

By the time we leave, Scottie is singing at the top of his lungs.

“Hey, you want me to drive?” I ask with concern. “You seem like you’re a little too happy.”

“Yeah, you do that. You take the wheel.”

Summer and I hug, and I promise to give her a call to let her know we’ve gotten home safely. I take I-45 to the 610 West Loop. We’re flying down the freeway and soon enter the city of Bellaire, a suburb with lofty homes and wealthy residents that’s located in the middle of Houston’s southwest side. This spoiled city is eighty-nine percent white, and barely one percent African American.

“We’re in Bellaire? Slow your ass down; you know how these cops can be.”

“I already know, Scottie,” I tease.

“Do I sound like I’m playing? Either slow down or get your ass out the car and I’ll drive.”

“Why the fuck are you talking to me so rudely?” A crazed look covers his face. I swallow deeply and begin shaking.

He doesn’t say another word to me until we pull up in front of Neil’s home. Earlier we discussed how we’d stop by the house so he could pick up some fresh clothes.

“If you like, I can just leave you here and go back to my spot by myself. Wouldn’t bother me one bit.”

“No, Dani, please don’t be mad. I’m sorry.”

“You better be more than sorry, Scottie. I didn’t deserve to be treated that way back there. I don’t get it. We had such a good time tonight,” I reply, choking back tears.

“Babe, I was wrong, I know, but I gotta tell you something.” He exhales. “I don’t like going through Bellaire, ever!”

“Yeah, I know the white cops like to ticket black drivers, but so what….”

“The white cops
killed
my black daddy.”

“W–what?”

“Some stupid drug dealer robbed a white woman at gunpoint. This was when I was barely a teenager. And my daddy happened to be in the great city of Bellaire,” he says sarcastically. “His Chrysler New Yorker broke down. Daddy loved that car. Back then that boxy-looking sedan was
bad
. So here he goes racing down the street searching for a phone booth. His car was stuck in the middle of Bissonnet, and he was worried about it getting hit. So he’s sprinting like a track star, minding his own business. The cops drive by and notice this big, bulky black man running through this mostly white suburb. They slow down, pull next to him, and yell out
the window. Well, Daddy hasn’t done anything wrong, so he doesn’t think they’re talking to him. They kept yelling, and he gets mad and runs faster. And those no-good bastards shot him like a dog in the street.”

Scottie’s veins pulsate on the side of his head as he stares into space.

“If you a black man, you can’t run down any street in America. They’ll think you’ve done something crime related every single time. But my daddy didn’t do anything. He didn’t do a fucking thing. They rushed him to the hospital. Someone called my mom and told us to hurry and come see him. But he took his last breath right when we pulled into the hospital parking lot.”

Scottie slumps down in his seat with his head against his chest, sobbing. “I never got to tell my daddy good-bye, Dani. Last time I saw him was that morning before I went to school. He dropped me off at the bus stop and told me he loved me, and that he’d see me later.”

Scottie silently cries for a few moments and I don’t know what to say at first, so I just let him get it out.

When his tears subside, I tell him, “Scottie, I’m so very sorry. I shouldn’t have hollered at you earlier, but I had no idea.”

“It’s not your fault. I–I just don’t like Bellaire and I hate cops even more.” He sniffs and wipes his nose on his sleeve.

“One more thing I gotta tell you. I did a brief jail stint when I lived in Michigan.”

“Oh no.”

“But it was because I refused to testify against a friend of mine. They tried to teach me a lesson, break me down, thought I’d do anything to get out that cell.”

“I can’t imagine what that must have felt like.”

“I hated it.” He laughs bitterly. “To this day I can’t stand confined spaces.” He peers at me. “So now you know more about bad-boy Scottie. I hope you understand. I hope you let me spend the night with you, too.”

“Of course, Scottie. I wouldn’t have it any other way. Thanks for sharing that with me. The more I learn about you, the more I feel I know you.”

When he opens the car door so he can go into Neil’s house to get some clothes, he eyes me curiously. “Don’t think for a second I’m letting my Mariah sit outside in the car, in this hood, by herself. Come on.”

He spends the night over at my place. The next day, he makes breakfast and we laugh, and talk, and watch movies all morning.

Vette brings Brax over in the afternoon, and all of us spend time reading
Thomas the Tank Engine
and
It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown
.

But by early evening, I yawn. “All this lying around is fun, but I gotta work off all the food I’ve been pigging out on. Anyone wanna join me working out?”

My apartment complex has a tiny workout room with two treadmills, two exercise bikes, and two elliptical machines. Most of the time the room is empty, which is fine with me because I usually listen to my iPod while I go through my routines.

I grab my wallet in case I get thirsty and want to buy something to drink from the vending machine. I also pick up my keys and my music and stand at the door waiting.

Vette shakes her head. “No thanks. Me and Brax are deep into Charlie Brown.”

“Don’t be so lazy, Vette. I’ll get Brax dressed, and you can come, too.”

“Trust me, Dani. I am perfectly fine being here, doing my lazy-afternoon thing with my nephew.”

“Suit yourself.” I turn to Scottie with an expectant look.

Scottie tells me, “You go on. I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Why can’t you come now?” I smirk, just to give him a hard time.

“Gotta use the men’s room. Is that okay with you?”

“See ya in a bit.”

Thankfully, all the machines are available when I arrive. There are two rows of equipment, and my eyes settle on a machine on the front row that’s next to a plain yellow wall. The front and back walls are covered by floor-to-ceiling mirrors. I glance at my reflection and place my wallet and keys on the empty machine next to me, put on my headphones, and stand on a treadmill eager to do an hour workout.

I immediately get lost inside the playlist, which starts out with “Spotlight” from Jennifer Hudson’s debut CD.

I punch a few buttons and the tread belt moves underneath my feet.

One, two, three, four
. I count and march to the beat.
One, two, three, four
.

I’m staring straight ahead, counting, daydreaming, and listening to music. Two minutes into the workout, the hair freezes on my neck.

Scottie’s behind me
. I pause the machine, then turn around to acknowledge him. But this eerily skinny man who’s sporting a bad haircut and a wrinkled T-shirt and stretch pants is staring at me with his hand pointed toward me. I gasp, turn my head toward my wallet. He looks, too, then crazily smiles at me. I nervously look in the mirror, my body tense with anticipation.

He steps onto the machine with my wallet. I feel his eyes on me the whole time.

I hear Jennifer singing, “Hoo hoo, hoo hoo.”

Then Scottie bursts in the room. “Hey!”

The skinny guy looks agitated. “You talking to me?”

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“None of your business. I–I’m leaving.”

Scottie walks up to the guy and pushes him so hard he stumbles. “You’re crazy, man. I haven’t done anything.”

“I saw you the whole time.” Scottie snatches my wallet from the other machine. “If I ever see you around my gal again, I’ll give you a beating you’ll never forget.”

The guy scurries backward until he reaches the door, then runs out of the room.

“You all right?”

“Scottie, he gave me the weirdest feeling. I can’t be in here anymore by myself. What would have happened if you hadn’t come?”

“I’m telling you, Mariah, you gonna have to sign up at the big, expensive gym. I don’t like this small-ass workout room, and I go crazy when it even looks like a guy is trying to mess with you.”

“I didn’t ask you to go Incredible Hulk on anyone.”

“I know. But I will. I will turn into any Superhero. On anyone.”

“But, why?” I ask in a shaky voice.

“I know you’ve heard of ride or die. I’m your ride-or-die guy. I’m riding this relationship till the wheels fall off.”

Yep, I am more
serious than a heart attack.” LaNecia raises her fingers to the sky, then crosses her hand over her heart.