Flirt (23 page)

“Are your mom and dad still together? Your dad is black, right? I know you got some black in you, even though I have to look real close!” Miss Deidra never held her tongue, and that is one of the things Marley loved about her. If she wanted to know something, she asked. If she had something to say, she said it.

“From what I know, my dad is black, Miss D, but I’ve never met him, and I don’t know anything about him except he played football for Florida State. My mom’s name is Tara,” Marley said.

“Tara
what
? Where is she from? What school did she go to?” Miss Deidra sat her fork on the edge of her plate and waited for Marley to answer.

“Tara Lucas. She went to Riverbend High and she graduated from Florida State.”

“She went to Florida State? Her major was?” Miss Deidra asked the question and made a statement a second later: “Interior Design,” she said.

“Interior Design, how did you guess?”

“Mama went to FSU, too, so did my sorry-assed daddy who has seen me twice in my life. Once when I was born and again on my first birthday,” DeJuan said. “He was some big football star, right, Mama?”

While Miss Deidra stared at Marley as if she were trying to memorize her face, she smiled and bit into a warm slice of her delicious corn bread. “It was just a guess, Marley. I think you may have mentioned it before. Boy,
you
better watch your mouth,” she said, pointing at DeJuan.

“I’m sorry, Mama, but I can’t stand that nigga.”

“I
said
watch your mouth.” Miss Deidre continued to stare at Marley. “You mean to tell me that you don’t even know your father’s name?” she asked.

“I don’t even know his name,” Marley confirmed. DeJuan and Marley cleared the table and washed the dishes as they usually did, but before she left, Miss D handed her an envelope and asked her to give it to her mother. She made Marley promise not to open it, but she couldn’t resist the temptation, and as
soon as she pulled out of the driveway, she steered the car into the first vacant lot and tore open the envelope. Marley pulled out the picture of a young man in a Florida State football uniform and the handwritten note.

Tara,

Our children are dating and very much in love. I think it is time that Marley knows who her father is. We need to put a stop to this. Things have gone too far. We have to tell them the truth before we cause any further devastation to these kids. It’s not their fault. Please call me as soon as possible so that we can speak about how we are going to handle this fragile situation. I have enclosed a picture of Charles as you may remember him. You can give it to Marley. He is nowhere near the same man we both fell in love with. From what I’ve heard, drugs have taken control of his life.

Please call me.

Deidra Spencer

Marley stared at the letter and then read it over again. She didn’t want to believe anything that was on the paper. She thought about all the years that had passed and left her wondering where the man who was supposed to love and protect her from everything was. She’d missed having a father in her life and wasn’t open to hearing about this man Charles. Maybe he was DJ’s father, but he wasn’t hers. Miss D obviously had her mother confused with some other Tara. It wasn’t true. Marley folded the note and placed it back into the envelope. She decided that she would never let her mother see it.

_______

Miss D waited patiently for the phone call from Marley’s mother. She asked her every time she saw her if she’d given her the note. Marley lied and told her yes every time. After one month of not hearing from Tara, Miss D decided to take matters into her own hands.

Sunday started off the same as any other Sunday: Miss D and Marley attended church, and Miss D prepared her usual Sunday spread while DeJuan and Marley hung around the house playing cards and watching movies. When they placed the plates and napkins on the table, Miss D told DeJuan to set an extra place because they were having a guest.

When the doorbell rang at exactly six o’clock, DeJuan answered it. He stood holding the doorknob and staring at the man who stood in front of him.

“Come on in, Charles!” Miss D yelled from the kitchen.

DeJuan opened the door wider, and Charles walked in. From his appearance, Marley would never have assumed he was on drugs. He even looked as if he’d put extra effort into his looks tonight. He was clean shaven, his hair was freshly cut, and he wore a pair of creased black slacks and a dark blue dress shirt and striped tie. He looked healthy.

“Come on in, we were just about to sit down to dinner,” Miss D said nervously.

Marley, DeJuan, and Charles followed Miss D’s voice into the dining room and took their respective seats. Marley’s stomach was settled at the bottom of her feet. She sensed what the
whole setup was about. Charles was her alleged father and her boyfriend’s father, which made DeJuan her brother. She wanted to run out of the room screaming, but she couldn’t let DeJuan or Miss D know she had any idea of what was to come. Marley held back tears while Miss D spoke.

“DeJuan, Marley, this is Charles,” she said. “Charles went to Florida State. He played football. He was pretty good back then.” Miss D smiled and passed the bowl of potatoes to DeJuan. “I asked him to come to dinner tonight because there is something very important that I feel you both need to know,” she explained.

Marley held her breath and prayed that she was dreaming and that as soon as she exhaled, she’d wake up and everything would be normal again.

They filled their dinner plates in silence and took their first bites without a word. Everyone was processing the situation in their own way. Marley was sure that DeJuan had put two and two together and assumed this dinner was solely about meeting his father. He knew his father was a big football star at FSU and was named Charles.

“I guess I’ll go ahead and start, tell you why I’m here,” Charles said.

He wiped his mouth with a napkin and looked Marley and DJ over. He glanced at Miss D, and she nodded, giving him the go-ahead.

“Years ago, I was a football player at FSU. I was big-time. Probably could have played in the NFL if I wanted to,” he said. Charles took another bite of his food and chewed slowly. When
he was finished he continued. “Being a big-time star in college, you have women coming at you from everywhere. I’ve had my share of them. I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my lifetime,” he said.

DeJuan and Marley watched Charles intently. DJ had no idea where Charles was going with his story, but Marley did, and she’d suddenly lost her appetite. She placed her fork at the corner of her plate, pushed her plate away, and waited for Charles to finish.

“One of the mistakes I made was messing around with three women and getting them all pregnant at the same time,” he said. “But, I was young, and at that time I didn’t know any better. I knew that I wasn’t ready to be a father. I wanted what I wanted when I wanted it, and I didn’t think about anyone but me back then. Every day of my life, I regret the decisions I made. I turned my back on D, Tara, and the other woman—and regardless of what they may think, I loved all of them and deep inside I loved both of you before you were even born,” he said, turning his head toward Miss D.

Charles lifted his fork to his mouth, and Miss D finally looked away. DJ didn’t hesitate to continue with his meal while Charles searched his mind for the next words.

“I’m sorry, DeJuan. I’m sorry, Marley. I’m sorry for missing out on your lives, I’m sorry that I was young and dumb. I’m hoping that eventually, once all of this settles that we will be able to have some kind of relationship.” Charles stared into DeJuan’s eyes. He sensed that DJ wasn’t accepting the apology that he was trying to give. “When D told me what was going on, I knew that we had to do something.”

“What?” DeJuan said. “What are you talking about, man?
You trying to tell me that you are my daddy, nigga?” DeJuan slowly stood in front of his seat. As the look of years of neglect, frustration, and anger slithered across DeJuan’s face, he balled his fists at his waist, and tears welled in the corners of his eyes.

“How the fuck you gonna sit in here and eat my mama’s food, nigga?” DeJuan flipped the corner of Charles’s plate and watched as the uneaten food landed in his lap. “You don’t deserve to eat our food! Where the fuck have you been all of these years, fool? Where the fuck were you at when I needed you, nigga? I don’t give a fuck what you
used
to be. You ain’t shit
now
. You don’t even deserve to be in my house, nigga! Get the fuck out!”

Charles slid back in his chair and started to stand. Miss D kindly placed her hand on his arm, and he stayed in his seat.

“Calm down, DJ, we are going to talk about this like grown folk. Ain’t gonna be none of that in my house. Now, sit down.”

Marley sat beside DJ and watched as his anger escalated. He didn’t seem to hear anything else that Charles said. It didn’t quite sink in that Charles had also mentioned knowing her mom. That meant that they may be brother and sister. The only thing that DJ seemed to care about now was the fact that the man who sat in front of them eating the delicious meal Miss D prepared was his absent father. The man whom he always wished he could know and have a relationship with, Charles, was the man that DJ had cried for at night when he was a little boy.

“Charles, I think that you have my mother mixed up with some other woman,” Marley said. “You don’t know my grandparents. I don’t think that they would have allowed my mother to date you,” she said. “No offense, but that is how they are.”

“They didn’t
let
her date me. We snuck around. Your mom wanted to tell them, but I wasn’t ready to deal with that kind of situation,” Charles said. “When they found out that she was pregnant by a black man, they lost their damn minds and made her transfer to another school and everything. I couldn’t talk to her, see her . . . nothing. I never heard from Tara again. I couldn’t believe that they took my child away from me.”

“Maybe your sorry ass should have tried harder to find your kids,” DeJuan said. He looked at Marley and shook his head. Underneath the table he softly covered her small hand with his.

DeJuan was told the outcome before Tara ever received her results. The clouds were spread across the sky and the rain was approaching quickly. The temperature fell a few degrees, and a gentle breeze blew through the trees. Marley was sitting on the porch of her grandmother’s colonial home when DeJuan’s Caprice sped up the driveway. DeJuan threw open his door and jumped out. He walked with his head down and his hands in his pockets. They didn’t exchange any words; they just slowly walked toward each other. When they were face-to-face, the couple embraced. DeJuan cried silently while Marley stood still and inhaled his scent for what was sure to be the last time. As the rain fell, he placed his mouth next to her ear and whispered, “He’s my daddy.” The words barely escaped. He held his breath and wiped his face with his free hand. “Baby girl, he’s your dad, too, ninety nine point nine percent,” he said.

Marley nearly collapsed in DeJuan’s arms. “Nooo! Please no!”

She’d prayed for hours and days that the outcome would be different. She asked God to make this right. DeJuan was the love of her life. They were going to get married, have kids, and live happily ever after. She didn’t want to lose him.

“I gotta go, baby girl. I can’t deal with this shit,” he said. He turned and walked slowly toward the car. When he reached the car, DeJuan stood in the rain behind the open door and blew Marley a kiss. She pretended to catch it and then placed her open hand to her lips. That was the last time she saw DeJuan alive. The next day, Miss D found him inside his cherished Caprice with his nine-millimeter and a bullet wound to his head. Three letters were found in the glove compartment, one for Marley, one for Chris, and one for Miss D. The situation was too much for DeJuan. He didn’t feel that he would ever be able to stop loving Marley . . . his sister.

After DeJuan’s suicide, Marley promised herself that she would never love again. She told herself that no man was worth giving her heart to. The experience with DeJuan forever changed Marley’s feelings about love. Love was suicide.

Marley closed the yearbook and wiped her eyes. She took a sip of the coffee, which had cooled, and grabbed the telephone.

Club HEAT was one of the hottest nightspots in the area. Known for its bright lights, high ceilings, rooftop dance floors, private VIP rooms, and music, the club was frequented by many
of the MIA’s favorite celebrities. Athletes, models, actresses, and musicians could all be found sipping drinks and moving their bodies to the beat of the latest music.

Marley arrived at HEAT wearing a sexy backless dress that covered her ass just enough and black heels to match. Her MAC makeup was flawless, as was everything on Marley—from the French manicure on her fingernails to her long dark hair, which she straightened and parted down the middle. Her perfectly toned and tanned legs seemed endless as she walked in through a side door and up to a private VIP room reserved for the evening. Marley frequented the club with her girlfriends during her free time and was a familiar face to the security team and bouncers. Neither she nor her friends ever waited in line at HEAT.

As she sat on the plush velvet chaise sipping on a glass of Riesling, Marley started to have second thoughts. She suddenly wished she’d planned this evening with Javier instead of the person who would soon walk through the club doors.

Chris walked in, looking every bit as sexy as the last time Marley saw him. A smile immediately snuck across her lips as she looked him over from head to toe.

“Marley . . .” Chris extended and opened his arms as Marley stood to hug him. “I was wondering if you were ever going to call me again,” he said.

“I’ve been thinking about you lately, but I’ve just been a little busy,” she said, kissing him softly on the cheek.

“A call now and then isn’t that hard, you feel me?”

“I know, and I’m sorry. You know how my schedule is sometimes.” Marley sat down and slid off her heels. She curled her
legs underneath her body and pointed to the empty spot in front of her. “Sit down.”