Motown Throwdown (9 page)

Parking out in the street, she waits for me on the porch. She says shit and neither do I. Opening the door, she yells for her dad and then things got interesting. A very large black guy, six three easy, with a tight afro rounds the corner and when he sees her his face lights up, when he sees me he looks curious, like I’m familiar. Fuck, but I hated being the center of attention.

“Kandy girl!” he bellows then picks her up in a twirl.

“Dad, I’m too big to be spun and I’m wearing a dress!” she squeals holding on tight.

Then I hear “Is our girl home?” and when I turn my head a stacked white guy slightly taller than Kandace, maybe six one with a bun in his hair run to her pulling her into a fierce hug.

“Hi Dad,” she giggles. Okay, what the fuck?

“Dads I’d like you to meet my friend Roman Peterson,” she says proudly like I was worth a shit. I didn’t want to be her fucking friend and I didn’t want to meet her dads either. I was seriously uncomfortable and wanted to leave yesterday.

“
The
Roman Peterson?” the big one asks reaching for my hand intent on shaking it.

“The same Roman Peterson you used to brag about?” says the smaller one shaking it next.

“Yeah that’s me,” I snap crossing my arms over my chest. “The same Roman Peterson that just got out of prison.”

Coming toe-to-toe with me, Kandace cranes her head up toward my ear and whispers, “You feel better now convict? Knock it off. This is my family, act right.”

“I’m gonna jet,” I tell her moving away.

“No you are fucking not,” she counters taking my hand to keep me in place. “He’s one in the same,” she says pulling me into the kitchen. “Sit,” she says pointing to the chair and I do. Watching her grab glasses to get us a drink, it’s when her dads take the seats next to me that I start to sweat. Meeting a chick’s parents was a first. The circumstances sucked too, I was fresh from the hospital, confused and pushing thirty.

“Okay Rome, so the big guy to your left is Richard, and the guy to your right is Peter.” Blinking at them both I was at a loss until she spoke again. “Really you got nothing?” she says putting her hands on her gorgeous hips. “I tell you that my dads’ names are Dick and Peter and you’ve got nothing?”

“I’m Dick Kane,” he says patting me on the back. “But Peter calls me Big Daddy Kane.”

Yeah, I still had nothing. The fuck do I say to that? I’m not calling him Big Daddy anything. Who are these people?

“Stop embarrassing him, Dick,” says Peter on a laugh.

“Where’s Gage?” she asks joining the party. Handing me a glass of what looked like lemonade I guzzle it back to buy some time. Standing up she brings the pitcher over then hands me a pill. “Ibuprofen for the pain,” she says nodding at me to take it after refilling my glass again.

“He’s in Dallas, I think,” says Peter eye balling me. “He’ll be around next week.”

“What’s with the dress Kandy girl? Did you pull an all-nighter?” Dick asks smiling at her like he’d approve if she did.

“I was called into work for an emergency and this was what I happened to be wearing,” she says smiling at me. “I was at benefit for Mott’s, it was formal and yes, I’m uncomfortable.”

“Well you should dress up more often,” he says with pure fucking love. “You’re beautiful, Kandy girl.”

“Thanks, dad,” she whispers like she’s embarrassed. Looking up at me her demeanor changes again when she says “I’m sure you’ve figured out I have two men as parents,” she says. “My dads used a surrogate for my brother and me. I’m nice and pasty like Peter, whereas Gage is a golden brown like Dick.”

“We both wanted two,” says Dick. “We had just had Gage with a wonderful surrogate but he wanted a sister. He told us her name would be Kandace with a K. That she would be his best friend and that he would protect her. You’d have to see it for yourself but it was her protecting him. Kandace can be territorial of those she loves. I mean look at her son, she’s the spitting image of Peter and no one gives him shit for good reason.”

Okay, yeah, so she did favor Peter which made sense since he was white as fucking snow. Dick was even darker than I was so talk about a blended family. Kandace wanted to prove a point and she did, it was clear she didn’t see color. I already knew she was territorial and wanted it to be because she cared about me but I knew I gave her no reason to. At a loss to what was happening and why I was included in it, I spoke up. “You two miss the part where I said I just got out of prison? Or you cool with your daughter hanging out with a convicted rapist?”

“So much anger,” Peter comments absently. “Our daughter is a good judge of character and convicted doesn’t always mean guilty, does it son?”

“Kandace never believed it and neither did we,” says Dick winking at his daughter. “She followed your trial and felt you didn’t have a strong enough defense. Being attorneys, we had to agree, Kandace even tried to---“

“Dad please, no.” she whispers with pleading eyes.

“You tried to what Kandace?” I accidently growled. Fuck, I didn’t mean to but she was constantly throwing me for loops.

“I might have petitioned for Peter to take over your defense but---“

“That was you?” I let out on a huge exhale. I remember getting a letter from an attorney asking me if I wanted new representation pro bono but, I figured I was fucked no matter which I went with and threw the letter away. “Were you there when I was sentenced?”

“Guilty,” she shrugs dropping her eyes to her hands.

It didn’t take a genius to pick up on my discomfort and Peter was the first to change the subject. “Did you toss the ball in prison?”

“No.” It was abrupt and I knew it but I still couldn’t believe she showed. I was too afraid, ashamed to turn around in that court room. I didn’t want my grandma to see how scared I was so I faced forward, always.

“Would you like to toss it now?”

“Boy time!” says Dick jumping up. “Kandy girl, grab us some water while we show this boy how it’s done around here.”

“I don’t want to play football,” I growl.

“Yes you do,” says Peter. “It’s written all over your face.”

Fuck, okay so I did want to play football but I was in no condition
to
play football. “If I play, I could hurt you.”

“If you say so,” Dick says laughing not threatened at all.

“I’m more worried about Kandy girl’s sacks than yours, she’s mean.”

“Uh, guys?” she says waving her arms. “Rome just got out of the hospital this morning. He was my emergency and he’s working through a bruised lung. Rain check on the big game.”

“Oh fine,” Peter pouts. “If we can’t play one let’s watch one.”

So that’s what we did, for hours. With her sitting next to me calling plays and screaming at the refs, it was the best day I’d had in ten years. Even when I fell asleep, she covered me up but never stopped screaming at the TV. I was used to noise when I slept, inside it was never quiet and her voice calmed me enough that I slept deep and without fear.

But that was only because she was close by.

“Don’t you sleep?” he asks sliding his coffee over to me.

“When time permits,” I mumble taking the lid off to steal a sip.

Attempting to slide it back to him, his hand covers mine and he whispers, “keep it.” The contrast of our skin was beautiful and obvious. I couldn’t help but notice his hand was soft which was at odds with the football player.

“You’ve got bags under your eyes, Teach,” he says using his thumb to push on the swollen pocket.

“I know,” I mutter slightly embarrassed. It was sweet that he thought enough of me to care about my lack of sleep. But this was Roman and I really should have known better.

“It makes you look used up.”

“Thanks for noticing my flaws,” I snap. Unfortunately outside of a mean tongue he didn’t have any visible flaws. “It’s too bad we can’t see past the surface to see what’s inside.”

“The hell does that mean?”

“I may look like shit on the outside,” I growl standing up and packing my bag. “But I am fucking gorgeous on the inside but I can’t say the same for you.”

He slept hard.

Helping them make dinner, we caught up on life and work. I was careful when talking about Rome and I because it was new and undefined. No matter what I share with them they never judge, they kept an open mind. If I had my eye on something they trusted me to use my head and supported me, even in my failures. They were also fans of Rome and didn’t see his conviction as an issue any more than I did.

My dads had their own firm and always rooted for the underdog. They believed in justice and knew the system well. They’ve seen it work and in Rome’s case, watched it fail.

With dinner almost done, I sit next to Rome and softly run my fingers down his arm to wake him. Having him here with us for dinner was exciting for me because well, he’s the first I’ve ever brought here and for me it meant something.

With a deep exhale, his head lobs toward me and I lean in to look at the flames tattooed around his throat. The outline was thick, the flames angry. This piece spoke of misery fluently. “I was in hell,” he whispers catching my staring. Fighting back the tears, I offer him a small smile but when he says, “I want to see what heaven’s about,” it was the softness of his eyes that made me do it. Leaning in I frame his face in my hands, then slide them down to span his throat and kiss his full lips softly.

“Heaven’s attainable, Rome.”

“I want a shot with
you
,” he says kissing me this time. His breath was hot and his lips tasted of citrus. Drowning right here on the couch would happen if I didn’t use the common sense I was sometimes known for. But with him I wanted to be reckless only that wouldn’t be good for Rome. Rome needed stability. “You’re heaven to me.”

“Let’s start with friendship,” I offer pulling away even though I’d rather be in his lap.

“Forget it,” he mumbles moving away. Instantly he shut down on me. Tossing the cover off, he doesn’t even say goodbye to my parents as he storms out of the house. Following him out, he ignores me in favor of getting in his car. It was becoming a habit, but this time I sat on the hood of his car and if he drove off, he was taking me with him.

“Get the fuck off my hood,” he yells at me.

“Get the stick out of your ass,” I yell back.

“God dammit, doc, I don’t want to be here with you, so get the fuck off.”

“Bullshit,” I argue adjusting the strap of my dress before I lost a boob. “You don’t want to be anywhere
but
with me, you just become a little bitch when you don’t get your way.”

“I didn’t need the show and tell with your fucking family,” he growls almost standing between my legs. “You had no right asking them to defend me. For all you know I was fucking guilty. Ever think of that, Einstein?”

“What did you just call me?” I growl standing up. Getting in his space I put my index finger in his sore chest so he sees I’m not fucking around. “You know what? I was trying to show you some humans aren’t assholes, some of us are open-minded, we don’t see skin color or judge others.”

“Some of you, huh? You date black guys often then?”

“No, I don’t, but none of that matters to me.”

“Call the NAACP for a charity case, doc,” he grunts opening his door. “I don’t need shit from you.”

That’s when I snapped. Standing between him and his door I get right in his face and scream. “Don’t you ever fucking play the race card with me again, Rome! You don’t want a friend? Fine, then fuck you. It’s obvious you don’t know what you want. When that day comes that you finally do just know I won’t be waiting. I’ve waited ten years too long as it is. You’re on your own, Rome. I’m not the enemy, it’s too bad you can’t see that.” Then slamming the door I was about to head back in to apologize to my parents for his behavior then changed my mind. Pulling his door open I lean in giving him my parting jab hoping it hurt.

“You throw Einstein punches at me like it’s an insult but guess what, Rome? I am a fucking genius, you want to know why? Because the night you said that to me in front of everyone I knew, I fucking knew I’d prove you wrong and I did. You ever cross paths with me again you best watch how you speak to me or I’ll show you the fucking theory of relativity for real when I knock you the fuck out!”

Feeling good about it, I adjusted my straps and walked back inside. I didn’t see his mouth hanging open at my departure because I was too busy holding my emotions in. When I think of what could have been, what I was willing to do to keep it only to be reminded it was never mine to have. I wanted to yell over to the neighbors, “Don’t mind that cracking sound, it was just my heart fracturing…again.”