Lovers & Haters (13 page)

“Not much to tell—mother, younger brother, decent neighborhood, tall, dark, intelligent, and handsome. I told you, not much to talk about.” He cracked a thin smile as he observed her checking him out. Xavier didn't miss a beat. In the past his gear had been raggedy every time she'd laid eyes on him. Now he sat in front of her, fresh, from head to toe, a billboard for expensive designers. Samantha's eyes were searching for answers.

“Look who has jokes. I like you, Xavier. You make me laugh. I like that.” She looked at his clothes. “And I also like a man who knows how to dress. You don't deal drugs, do you?”

“Why? You're looking to make a purchase?”

“Funny. You know what I mean, Xavier. The last time I saw you, you were dressed in rags, like you were going to a rally to protest the rights of the homeless. Now, all of a sudden, you are cocooned up in designer clothing. And if my tabulations are correct—and I know that they are—I'm looking at four- to five-hundred dollars in garments and sneakers. You factor Romello into this equation and you have something that reeks of corruption.”

“You don't mince words, do you?” Xavier laid his cookie bag on the table. “Man, Miss Nosy, I thought this outing might lead to decent conversation. We were just laughing and joking. How did we get here?” Xavier tried to laugh it off.

“I'm sorry,” Samantha apologized. “I'm sounding like my dad now, but I have to be real with you. If you are into something illegal, now is a good time to tell me. My dad has quite a few business partners. It wouldn't go over well if I get mixed up in something illegal. One scandal could mean the difference between eating filet mignon or five-minute noodles—”

“I believe you mean ramen noodles.”

“You know what I mean.”

“That you never had ramen noodles before.”

“No. This time I'm being for real, Xavier. My dad has forbidden me to see you. And if you're into something illegal, it will only make things worse. Now would be a great time to tell me.”

“Why every time a brotha is seen in some nice clothes he has to be selling drugs?”

“No offense, Xavier, but like I said before, the last time I saw you, you were dressed like somebody holding up a “will work for food” sign on the off ramp of the freeway.”

“Good point—but I'm not a drug dealer.”

“Okay,” Samantha relented. “I might have a thing for bad boys”—she winked at him—“but I draw the line at criminals.”

Xavier laughed. “So now I'm a criminal?”

“Can you look me in the eyes and tell me that you're not into anything illegal?”

Here it was: the opportunity to tell the truth. To come clean. Could he do it? Samantha would probably get up from the table and walk out of his life for good if he told her that he was a car thief. Xavier just couldn't risk it. There was something magical about this girl. He loved being around her. So he did what he knew he had to do to keep her—he lied his butt off. “I, Xavier Hunter, am not into anything illegal.”

Samantha smiled so sweetly that it looked like her lips could've been dipped in honey.

“Pinky swear,” she said, placing her elbow on the table with the pinky of her right hand extended toward Xavier.

Xavier locked pinkies with her, smiling and feeling bad about lying to her. What could he tell her? That he was an honor student by day and a thief at night? He wasn't even about to go there. He was playing with fire and he knew it. There were a lot of skeletons locked away inside of his closet. He just hoped like hell that none of them ever learned how to pick a lock.

 

“Xavier, you need to talk to your brother about his schoolwork,” Ne Ne prodded. “Take this.” She brought a plate of food to his bedroom, loaded with fried chicken and mac and cheese. “He got one of those behavior reports from the new school. Oh yeah, I need some money to get my hair and nails done.”

“Ne Ne,” Xavier said, “Alfonso's your son. Why do I have to talk to him about his schoolwork?”

She stood there with her hand out. “Because you are his brother, the genius who reads Shakespeare—that's why. Now give me money. My hair and nail appointment is in fifteen minutes.”

Xavier hadn't been home a good minute before she'd started in on his pockets. Though her attitude toward Xavier had dramatically softened after he started making some cash to help float her new lifestyle, she still managed to delegate her responsibilities. She gave Xavier the respect that a woman would give a man who was footing her bills, but she still didn't have time for her baby boy. In fact, since Xavier had started getting money, her parental neglect had worsened. He and Alfonso had taken a backseat to her reckless ways of partying, drinking, and now she had started experimenting with marijuana. Xavier had smelled the sweet, bitter fragrance on her clothes when she'd stumbled into the house out of the darkness a few times, just barely beating sunrise. It was his money that seemed to be aiding in her destruction. But he needed the money, or else his family would be back to the stench of the ghetto.

And that wasn't gonna happen!

Xavier hesitantly went into his pocket and removed a hundred-dollar bill. Ne Ne snatched the Benjamin Franklin just as he got it out of his pocket. The continual honking of a car horn out front let them know that Nate had arrived, with no patience as usual.

“Why doesn't that fool come in the house anymore?” Xavier asked.

“Because he's jealous. Mad at me for not telling him how you are getting money. I told him: ‘Hell, I don't even know, not my business. I'm just happy that a sista is finally getting the help she deserves.'”

“Ouch—right in the manhood, huh? You don't hold 'em up, do you?”

“Nope. Ne Ne don't have any respect for a man who is not taking care of his business, and I am said business.”

Xavier was amazed. Just a month ago, Ne Ne was all over him about not carrying his weight and she was practically throwing rose petals at Nate's feet and worshipping him for the little change he'd sprinkled on her every now and again. Now she was cold dissing the dude. Xavier had become Dr. Frankenstein and his mother was his latest creation. She would go along with whatever he said or did, as long as he kept the green stuff flowing.

She even kissed Xavier on the crown of his head before leaving his room.

“Thank you for the money, son. I love you and I will see y'all in a few hours. Don't forget to talk to your brother.”

Xavier was going to keep it real with himself. Control felt good. Seeing this side of his mother felt even better. But being able to make moves and support his family was priceless.

Now if he could only shake the guilt he felt from lying to Samantha. On the way home from the mall he wanted to spill his guts to her, but every time he tried to, her smile shut him down. Xavier knew what it felt like to go weeks without seeing her precious face. Now that they were chilling together, he couldn't imagine going a day without seeing her. It was of the utmost importance that Xavier found some kind of way to keep both of his lives from intersecting. He had to keep making his paper. The nighttime gig was supporting his entire family. And the bargain he'd struck up with Romello was keeping Coleman's hallways safe from outside predators. The only problem Xavier could see was Samantha's old man. There would be no convincing him that Xavier could be good for his daughter. Mr. Fox had already rushed to judgment that day in the office. To men like Samantha's dad, Xavier was nothing but a common thug, a lowlife who could never measure up to the quality of man that would be a good fit for his daughter. Xavier needed some advice—and he knew just who to call.

He picked up his cell phone and made a call to Billy.

“Youngster, y'all moved from next door in January. It's now a week from February. You guys have been gone almost a month and I haven't heard from you. Now you remember that this old man is still living. What do you want?”

“Why do I have to call you for something? Can't I just be calling to check on the old man? After all, senior citizens should never be left in the house alone without one of those Life Alert devices. You don't have me next-door anymore to holler for help if you take a header down the basement steps.”

Billy burst into laughter. It had been a little under a month since Xavier had moved, but Billy's enthusiastic laugh led Xavier to believe that he was missed by his mentor.

“Good one, youngster. I taught you well. But I have to inform you that I don't need Life Alert or denture grip or Geritol or an electrical senior mobility scooter with the little basket on the front handlebars—”

“What about a sponge bath?” Xavier cracked.

“Oh, I see you have jokes today. Well, it just so happens that I have a young tender over here for that occasion.”

Billy removed his mouth from the receiver. Xavier could hear him in the background talking to somebody.

He got back on the phone and said, “Honey, say hi to my underage friend on the line.”

The phone made a static sound as it was passed to the other individual.

“Hello, Billy's underage friend,” a sweet, angelic voice said.

More static noise as the phone was passed back to Billy.

“She fly, ain't she?” Billy mischievously asked.

“Any man can sound like a woman. Remember the hoax played on the Notre Dame football star, Manti Te'o?”

Billy laughed. “You're absolutely right, but the female body that I'm looking at God made to be all woman.”

The truth was that the lady did have an enchanting voice, but Billy's head and ego were already skimming the stratosphere and Xavier wasn't going to add to it by admitting that to him.

“When you're done talking to your underage friend, I'll be in your bedroom, Snookums,” Xavier could hear the woman say from somewhere in the background.

Silence filled the phone, the type that belonged to ego-shrinking embarrassment.

The only other sound could be heard coming from Xavier's end—the boy was cracking up in hysterical laughter. He composed himself enough to tease, “‘Snookums'?”

“Boy, the comedy hour is over. Daddy has company; now state your business.”

“Okay, Snookums, calm down. Don't get angry at me, Snookums—you feel me?”

“You won this round, youngster. Now what's on your mind?”

“Touchy, huh? But anyway, I have a problem I can't figure out. I need your advice.”

“Let me hear it then, Xavier,” Billy said.

“Okay, here's my issue: There's this girl at school with these rich type of parents—”

“When you say parents, you're talking about a mama and a daddy, right?”

“Yes, she has a mother and a father.”

“Rich father, you said?”

“Yep.”

“Aw, boy, you better run for the hills. I'll bet my scrubs and Rambo blade that the little heifer is snooty and spoiled rotten.”

“Nope. You would've lost your scrubs and Rambo blade. She's perfect. It's the girl I saved at school.”

“Okay, I remember. But if she's so perfect, why do you need my advice?”

“It's her old man. He doesn't think I'm good enough. He doesn't like me.”

“Why do you want him to like you?”

“I mean, he doesn't even know me to be judging.”

“You have to look at it like he's living the American dream. I don't know why he would let his child attend Coleman, but that's beside the fact. You don't get rich by sitting on your ass and wishing. He worked hard to amass his fortune and probably has somebody hand-picked for his daughter. He had you pegged for a hoodlum the moment you walked through the door to her room. And I'm afraid that's not enough to suit him.”

“Snookums,” the lady's butter-soft voice cooed from somewhere far in the background. It was faint, barely audible, but Xavier's sensitive ears honed in. “I'm w-a-i-t-i-n-g, Snookums,” she sweetly sang, like she was up to no good.

“Boy, we gonna have to wrap this one up,” Billy said in a rattled tone.

“What do I do?” Xavier asked.

“Listen, this one is pretty tough, I'm not gonna lie to you. In his eyes, nobody is ever going to be as good as he is for his daughter. You saved her life and she is truly grateful to you. And if anything, she feels safe around you. A woman likes to feel safe around her man. Xavier, you may not be rich, but you have a lot to offer any girl. You're intelligent, responsible—”

“Don't forget handsome.”

“Two out of three is not bad”—he chuckled—“but for real, you are a great catch. And if she is interested, which I can't see why she wouldn't be, she won't let her father come between you. But, more importantly, you are an outstanding student and I would be focused more on my studies if I were you—only a suggestion. But I can't live your life. The rest is up to you. Now excuse me while I go and butter some biscuits.”

“Thanks, Billy.”

“Anytime, Xavier.”