Chardonnay: A Novel (32 page)

30

Kent’s
Legacy

October
2007

Two weeks
later the “test shoots” from Sierra Leone were front cover of Black Billions
magazine. The photo shoot I did in New York were front cover of KING magazine.
My phone was ringing off the hook from people of all walks of life. From huge
Hollywood directors to the associates I left behind in Kansas City. Jase was
good at what he
did,
living up to the promise of our
personal life would not affect our business together. He strayed from me. And
up till this point I didn’t have anybody because I was pushing them all away.
There was not a person I trusted. Micah was another story—there was no way I
could get rid of him. I smiled at the thought. Syndi threw me a party that
consisted of more industry folks to meet. She didn’t ask what I had done to get
the silent treatment from Jase.

After going through two First Response pregnancy
test
and having gone to take a trip alone to the doctor in
the cold New York weather, it was confirmed that I was indeed 12 weeks
pregnant. I didn’t believe in letting my seed go, but at this point and time in
my life...I had no choice. I continued with my daily life and made dagger
business arrangements that could propel my career. To most I was an unknown
exotic face on the TV screen—others a distant memory.

I wasn’t really present at the party as guest walked in the lux
club and either greeted me or walked past me, there to make some networking
connections of their own. Men couldn’t get enough of me.
Having
been placed in a new video this month reign me a name of simply—
Chardonnay
.
No last name, no nothing. A lot of people thought it was a pen name all the
while it was irregular. I went home early sadden by Jase’s absence at my party.
Our divorce would be final a week from today. No calls or visits, there was
nothing I could do to gain his attention, but prance my ass and make some cash.
Suddenly it was all I knew how to do. I home schooled some courses and others I
did on the campus of NYU.
 
As soon as I
turned the latched to my front door my bell man buzzed.

“Yes?” I said as I talked into the intercom.

“I have a gentleman here that says he has some business with you.”

I smiled and rolled my eyes.

“Yeah, uhn huh—he was supposed to be at my party seven hours ago.
Send him up.”

The bell man buzzed him up and I waited.

I pressed the stop button and sighed, looking at the mess that had
been created from the pre-party celebration.

“Syndi
would
throw a party then leave.” I mumbled under my
breath.

“Sorry to hear that.” a masculine voice with aged vocal chords
said.

I knew that voice. And for a second I was afraid to turn around. I
stood in the middle of my living room calmly, contemplating my stupid
assumption of who I was letting into my condo. But I had to face this man. I
had to grasp the fact that my life had been constructed by him.

And for many reasons why, I still didn’t understand. I turned to
face him and his distinguished face told me that he would have the final say.
He closed my door and then stepped toward me.

“Stop there.” I declared.

He placed his hands up slowly and said,

 
“I’m sorry. May I come in?”
he asked.

“Too late for that question.
Five minutes.” I said
looking him straight in his eyes. He walked closer, beaming his eyes down on me
and heaved in air as he took his suede hat off and cradled it in his arm pit. I
stepped back, and didn’t speak. He handed me his hat and took off his coat. I
took that as well and threw it over my breakfast bar as I walked near my dining
area. With my back turned he began,

“You ever wonder where you get those eyes
from?
”

“Why are you here? In fact how do you know where I live?”

“I’m like the government. I just know.”

He stepped into the light of my empty dining area and I could just
smell the aura of something murky creeping in his honey brown eyes. When I
looked away from his eyes, eyes that reminded me of his sons, both of them, he
grazed his hand over mine that rested on the breakfast bar. I snatched away
from him and said,

“What do you want?”

“You.
Not literally, but I came to do or undo what I had customized for
my son.
A wife.
You see, Myron may not be man enough
to—”

“Don’t you dare come into my home and try to intimidate me.
Especially after what you’ve cause and have tried to hide. I feel sorry for
you.” I spewed at him.

“Sorry for me?” he said walking around me.

“I write checks for little girls like you...like the one I’m one
writing for you now...and you feel sorry for me.” he chuckled a lost laugh.

“How could you leave a son and a wife behind to fend for
themselves
?”

“I fed and clothe them...what, that wasn’t enough?” I could have
smacked him to for the level of absorptivity in his words.

“But you don’t acknowledge them.”

“That’s-none-of-your-business.
I—I don’t
even know why Jasen even thought to tell you such a thing! You listen to me and
you listen to me good. If you don’t marry Myron I am—”

“WHAT?!
Going to make my life a living hell? Well, too
late for that
Mychael.
The hell I’ve already been through because of you
and who you are has prepared me for the encounter with the devil himself—YOU!
Now get the fuck out my house!” I said turning my back on him and walking
towards my front door. He followed suit and took his hat and trench coat off my
breakfast bar. Walking towards me slowly piercing every inch of me with his
eyes, I could tell I had royally pissed him off.

“Well, I must say. You are determined. But I will add that your
life isn’t as rich as you think it is little girl.”

“Get out!”

He placed his hat on his head and his trench coat over his
shoulders.

“I will show myself to the door, but um, next time you speak with
your mother or father, ask them if you can see your birth certificate...the
real one.”

As quick as Mr. Kent had appeared on my door step, he was gone.
Needless to say, I couldn’t sleep for the rest of the night. I sat up
wondering...thinking. What the hell had Mr. Kent come to undo as he stated? A
huge, dark cloud hovered over me as I sat in the middle on my living room floor
of my condo and looked around. There was no one there but me. I didn’t know if
I could do it now or how eternally I could get away with it. But it seemed
right. And I hated everything. At the moment I hated Jase the most...for making
this decision hard on me and not letting
that eight teen
wheeler hit me and draw me a blank in this world
. But then I could hear
him. My Pal pal—his wise words. I stood up slowly and went into my empty room
and over to a dresser drawer that came with the condo. I tugged at it,
disturbing the dust that collected in its cracks, chipping its antic wood and
pulled out his translated letter. As I unfolded it I shook and could feel my
weight shifting from under me.
 
I walked
over to my window and sat by it as I clinched on to every word. After every
sentence I sunk deeper and deeper into my sorrow.

I let sheers and sheers of sheading go as I realized what Mr. Kent
had come to say. I held my hands to my face and broke down crying. I couldn’t
phantom this, not in a million years to be my subjection. If at all it was real—I
knew Jase wouldn’t joke with me like this. But I had to know. Who was I?
 
A lost soul?
A homeless child?
A sparkling glass of Chardonnay gleaming
so bright that it could blind the most intrigued admirer...the girl that wanted
to know if that flute glass was half way empty or half way full. But she couldn’t
see through it, into it, or deep down in the mist of its bubbles that could
disappear at any given point leaving such a tantalizing taste....lifeless.

Epilogue

Paris,
France

September
18, 1985

My dearest Chardonnay.

If you’re reading this, by now I am dead and gone. I wasn’t always
a prosperous man or the grandpa you may have known me as by now. One thing is
for sure, I’ve always loved you. The moment you were born into this world. You
may have grown up to be a beautiful woman and innocent to the things that might
try to cause you harm in this scary world. That’s why I’ve wished to hide you
from some things.

Not everything in life is a fairy tale as you may know now.
Looking at you playing in the floor at this very moment—I’ve decided not to
disregard your truth. I will no longer do that to myself as well. In the
nineteen sixties...I passed for white, gaining all the privileges blacks couldn’t
get, most importantly for work. I married your grandmother Etta Williams as a
white and black couple. Our children were the color of the rainbow...I laugh
when I think of all of them now. But the
most fairest
of them all was Fallon.
The baby.
She had skin the
color of buttermilk and was a beauty and...
my
pride
and joy. Everything about her glistened, even her golden eyes. She learned very
quickly and in our land of France was an honor student. She began college at
the age of fifteen-years-old, even.

As time passed my identity was found out and I along with my
family became banished from our neighborhood. I fought for a democracy but how
could a man that denied his heritage stand up for it. The town we resided in no
longer was safe and I was broad casted over the news for my indescribable acts.
However not all was resolvable.
 

Fallon fell ill, pleading to stay in the country. From there on
out everything was at a lost, and I can’t go into the motions of what followed
to come. Chardonnay, your real mother is dead. Please forgive
me
 
when
I say it was
my fault for your detoured future. Your father is not your father. Your
siblings are not your siblings. Trust me when I say, Fallon loved you, she
never wanted to give you up. I didn’t want my family to be out casted by a
child born out of wedlock. It was in your best interest.

From the
heavens,

Pal pal