Family of Lies (23 page)

I
WAS GLAD TO BE BACK TO NORMAL.
W
ELL, NORMAL FOR ME.
I
STILL
didn’t feel as well as I used to, but I felt well enough to return to work.

It was a typical foggy Frisco morning when I left the house, driving with both hands on the steering wheel and squinting my eyes like that old cartoon character Mr. Magoo. Even though I stayed in the slow lanes all the way, impatient motorists behind me kept honking their horns for me to speed up, but I refused to do so. The last way I wanted to end my life was in an automobile accident.

By the time I pulled into my personal parking stall behind the store, I was aching in several places on my body, short of breath, and dizzy. I had to sit still for five minutes to compose myself. After I had taken several deep breaths, massaged my chest, and swallowed a few pills, I felt better. I wobbled out of my Lexus and stumbled into the building through the employee entrance.

In spite of what I told people, I felt like a dead man walking and I tried to hide it. I didn’t want anybody to feel sorry for me, which most of them did anyway. People looked at me with pity and a few held their breath when I approached them. The same day I returned to work, half a dozen people came into my office to check and make sure I was still breathing. No matter how many times I told them to stop worrying about me, a few continued to do so. Finally, I closed and locked my office door. And it was a good thing I did that. I fell asleep sitting at my desk several times and once I tumbled from my chair and hit the side of my head on the corner of my desk. Luckily, nobody noticed the small knot that had immediately formed on my head and remained there for three days.

I went about my normal routine. Within a week, I had resumed all of the duties that I had put on hold during my time off. By then people had stopped looking at me like I was already dead. They had even stopped asking me about my health. Life was good again.

It had been a couple of weeks since we’d invited Curtis to the house to have dinner with us. In addition to the hefty bonus we’d given him for being such a hero, I’d taken him to lunch a couple of times. That Friday I strolled out of my office and approached him at the front entrance, which was where he spent most of his shift. “Hello, Curtis,” I said, bumping his fist with mine. “I’d love to take you to lunch again today. And you can pick the place this time.” I pretended like I didn’t see the relieved look on his face when I told him to pick the place. I assumed he was tired of eating at the sushi place and that Indian place I had taken him to the other times. He was a country boy to the bone and it was time for me to start treating him like one. “How about a place that sells some down-home grub?”

“Yes, sir! I can go for that!” he said with a hearty grin. “Excuse me, sir.” He looked off to the side of the front entrance and greeted an incoming regular customer with a nod. I admired how courteous he was and I gave him a huge smile when he returned his attention to me. “I love me some ribs.”

“I still love me some ribs too,” I told him. “My daughter loves them more than I do.” I stopped talking and shook my head. “That girl can eat half a slab in one sitting. Her favorite rib joint is Smokey Moe’s Rib Palace.”

“I know.”

“You know what?”

“Oh! Your daughter did mention to me how much she enjoyed the ribs at Smokey Moe’s that evening she drove me home after I had dinner at your house. She told me they were the best ribs she’d ever eaten.”

“Well, the girl wasn’t lying. Hold on. I’m going to call her up and ask her to meet us for lunch. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind. After all, she owes you a lot.” I stepped off to the side and whipped out my cell phone, hoping Sarah had not already left the house.

She answered the telephone right away.

“Baby, would you like to have lunch with your old man today?” I asked.

“I would, but I already made an appointment to get my hair done,” she told me, sounding disappointed. “How about tomorrow?”

“I’m having lunch with some vendors tomorrow.” I sighed, disappointed too. “All right, then, baby. I just thought you’d like to spend a little time with Curtis and me. That boy enjoys ribs as much as you do, so I offered to take him to that Smokey Moe’s place that you go to all the time. Besides that, I thought you’d like to see Curtis again.”

Sarah must have loved those ribs more than I thought because as soon as I mentioned them, she changed her tune real quick. “Uh . . . yeah, I’d like to join you for some ribs!” she said quickly. “I can get my hair done another day.”

Sarah had already arrived at Smoky Moe’s Rib Palace on McInnis Street by the time Curtis and I walked in the door. She was sitting in a booth facing the exit, sipping on a Coke in a glass that had once contained jelly. I shook my head when I noticed the large clock on the wall had stopped running and the calendar next to it was from last year. That was the kind of place this joint was. But since my visits were rare, none of that bothered me.

“This is the kind of place where you don’t sit with your back to the door,” I whispered to Curtis as we made our way to the booth. “On a Friday night, this low-rent neighborhood is like the Wild Wild West. And since the thugs got better firearms than the cops, the cops take their time coming out here when the gunfights start.”

“I know. I live around the corner from here,” Curtis said with a look on his face I couldn’t interpret. I didn’t know if he was embarrassed or offended by my comment.

“Oh. Well, I’m happy to hear that there are still some decent law-abiding folks living out here.” Sarah stood up and gave me a big hug. Even though my baby girl and I lived under the same roof, we both thought it was important to display our affection for one another on a regular basis. As crazy as the world had become, I never knew when it’d be the last time I saw her. Death was a subject none of us could ignore, especially for a sickly old man like me. My failing health was one thing, but there were other factors involved. The murder rate in San Francisco was higher than ever. A lot of the crimes were random and sometimes the shooter mistook one target for another. It got worse. One of my business associates had lost his wife to random violence; a drug-crazed boy had shot her just because he wanted to see what it felt like to kill somebody. Sarah didn’t say it often, but I knew she was worried about me up and dying any day just as much as I was. But I was even more worried about something fatal happening to her.

“Thanks for inviting me to join you guys,” Sarah said. Her arms were still around me, but I turned my head in time to see her grinning at Curtis. He was grinning back at her. Curtis was one of my most well-liked employees. Even my most difficult staff members adored him. The men liked him because he was always willing to trade shifts or work an extra shift when one of them wanted to take off. It was obvious why the women liked him. The boy was handsome, charming, and single. And during a conversation last week when I took Curtis to lunch, he told me that he had not been involved with a woman in weeks. I laughed and gave him a dismissive wave when he assured me that he was not gay and was anxious to find a nice woman. “Then you’re ripe for the picking,” I’d joked. I had several attractive cashiers—single and married—who were hot to trot. And a lot of bold women customers who came in just to browse only “browsed” Curtis. I knew that it was just a matter of time before one of those brazen man-eaters got her hooks in Curtis.

“Hello, Curtis, how have you been?” Sarah released me and shook his hand.

“I’ve been just fine, Mrs. Harper. Thank you for asking.” Curtis had good manners and a lot of class for a man on his level.

I slid into the booth next to Sarah on one side, and Curtis slid in on the other. The important thing was, all three of us were facing the door. I had noticed some pretty shady-looking dudes meandering about outside, so this was going to be a quick lunch.

“I’ve already ordered, so our plates should be here in a few minutes,” Sarah announced. “Three rib orders, with baked beans, coleslaw, corn muffins, and a pitcher of beer.”

The first couple of minutes were awkward. We took turns clearing our throats and making mundane comments about everything from the food to how proud we were of Obama. I took it upon myself to get the conversation up on its feet.

“Baby, did you know Curtis went to the same high school you went to?” I said. “I’m surprised you two didn’t know each other.”

“Uh, I had to drop out and go to work,” Curtis said.

“That’s a damn shame. It’s almost impossible to get a job these days without at least a high school education.”

“I got my GED and I put that information on my job application. You can check,” Curtis said defensively with a frightened look on his face.

“Pffft! I know that. I went over your application with a fine-toothed comb. We did a background check and we verified your references.” I sniffed. I quickly redirected the conversation back to the original subject. “You and Sarah are both so easygoing and likeable; I’m sure you could have been real good friends back then in school if you’d gotten to know one another,” I remarked. I loved my son-in-law and I knew Sarah loved him too. Had Bo not entered the picture, I would have been proud to have Curtis in my daughter’s life. However, I would have done something about his line of work by grooming him for a more prestigious position. I didn’t see anything wrong with a man being just a security guard, but I was glad my daughter had not married one. For one thing, I wanted my baby to be with a man who could provide for her. And I wanted her to end up with a man who had a decent education and a bright future. As much as I liked Curtis, he was going nowhere. He had nothing to offer a girl like Sarah. She would have been better off with a cat. The thought of my daughter being with a man like Curtis, or any other man living a life as dismal as his, made me grimace. I was glad that none of her previous relationships had panned out. Bo got to her in the nick of time. Had he not, I might have ended up with a cabdriver or a fry cook for a son-in-law.

“Daddy, I know that look on your face. You’re constipated again. You haven’t been taking all of your pills,” Sarah accused. She looked more than a little concerned.

“Yes, I have been taking all of my pills,” I defended with a laugh and a gentle tap along the side of her face. “Curtis, this girl cares more about other peoples’ health than her own. Sometimes I worry about her.” I paused and got more serious. “I bet she would take a bullet for one of her friends if she had to.”

Despite my Southern roots and all of the ghost stories I had heard when I was a boy, I did not believe in premonitions or any of the other superstitious riffraff black folks were known for. But right after I’d made that last statement, a cold chill crawled up my spine like a poisonous snake.

D
ADDY HAD CALLED ME UP A LITTLE WHILE AGO AND INVITED ME TO
have lunch with him and Curtis, and I had accepted without hesitation.

When I walked into the kitchen on my way out, Vera was on the telephone giggling like a teenager to whoever it was on the other end. “The things you say make my ears burn! You’re spoiling me, honey,” she said, still giggling. I cleared my throat to get her attention. When she whirled around and saw me standing in the doorway, her face froze. Her being so fair skinned, she blushed like a white woman. Her face went from a light brown to a candy-apple red. She blinked at me and then pointed to the telephone, frowned, and shook her head. “I have to hang up now. And I hope I don’t have to call you again or come down there in person. Now, I expect you to have my dry cleaning ready by this coming Monday! Do I make myself clear?” Then she slammed the telephone back into its cradle on the wall and turned sharply to face me. “Those damn Jamaicans! Incompetent to the bone! I’m going to start taking my dry cleaning to the Chinese people. They are the only ones who take cleaning clothes seriously.”

I gave her a puzzled look. “Then how are the Jamaicans spoiling you?”

Her face froze again when she realized I’d overheard that part of her conversation. “Oh! I was just being sarcastic!” I could see that Vera was flustered. Beads of sweat dotted her forehead and she started blinking like she had something caught in her eye. She looked me up and down. I had on my jacket and my car keys were in my hand. “You look like you’re going somewhere.”

“I’m meeting Daddy for lunch at that rib joint on McInnis,” I told Vera. “You want me to bring you a plate of ribs?”

“A plate of ribs?”
The way she said it, gasping and screwing her face up like she’d just tasted something bitter, you would have thought I’d just offered to bring her back a plate of shit.

I cocked my head to the side and gave Vera a weary look. Next to Collette, Vera was the most exasperating woman I knew. I had been trying for years to “like” them, but so far, the most I could say was that I only tolerated them. Had it not been for Daddy, I probably would have moved out of the mansion by now. “I’ll see you when I get back.” I couldn’t get away from Vera fast enough.

It was a short drive to the restaurant. But I had enough time to think back to last Wednesday when I took Curtis to lunch at the same place I was on my way to now. I had told Vera that I was taking Lupe Menendez to lunch to celebrate her coming out of the coma she’d been in since eighth grade. Since Vera couldn’t verify that, I wasn’t worried about getting busted.

Curtis had met me in front of the restaurant. He looked more handsome than ever, standing in front of the window where there was a crudely printed sign noting Smokey’s Moe’s business hours (which they rarely stuck to). He looked as happy to see me as I was to see him.

“You seem nervous,” I told him right after we’d received our orders and started eating.

“I am nervous. It’s been a while since I was out in public with a beautiful woman,” he said shyly, sliding what was left of his ribs to the side of his plate with his fork.

“Thank you. I needed to hear something like that.” After the comment he’d just made, I had to force myself to continue eating.

He gave me a sideways glance. “Come on now! I’m sure you hear things like that from your husband all the time.”

I shook my head. “I don’t remember the last time my husband told me I was beautiful. He spends more time at the store than with me and . . . and it’s beginning to get on my last nerve. I didn’t know being married to a workaholic was going to be this . . . this bad. And not just that but the man frustrates the hell out of me sometimes. My stepmother treats him like a puppy she trained personally for her benefit, and he just goes along with whatever she says.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. But that’s really none of my business.”

“I’m sorry, Curtis. I don’t mean to dump my marital problems on you.”

We didn’t have much to say about anything else and before I knew it, we had drifted back to the subject of my marriage.

“Sometimes I still feel like a single woman,” I complained. “I don’t know how my stepmother can stand Daddy spending so much time at the store and leaving her by herself.”

“Have you tried to talk to your husband about the way you feel?”

“He’s hardly ever around!” I snapped. “When he is, we rush through everything. Conversations, meals, and even sex! The last time we made love, he came before I even got out of my clothes!”

“Damn.” Curtis bit his bottom lip and I think it was because he didn’t want to laugh at what I’d just said.

“Let me hush. I’m embarrassing you. You feel me?”

Curtis stared at me for a moment, giving me a dreamy-eyed look. “Oh yeah . . . I feel you, Sarah.” That look was still in his eyes. He tilted his head to the side and stared at me so hard it felt like he was looking through me, not at me. “Sarah, I wish I had met you before.”

“Before what?”

“Before Bo.”

I suddenly felt awkward, but I still managed to say, “I wish you had too. Uh, I’m ready to leave when you are.” I wiped the barbecue sauce and the juice from the baked beans off my lips and neatly folded the paper napkin.

Curtis let out a loud breath. Then he gave me such an inviting look, which included a wink, I wanted to throw him to the ground and mount him like a horny dog. “I think about you all the time.” He sighed. “I want you to know that.”

His confession stunned me, but it also made me feel warm all over. I smiled demurely and looked into his eyes. “Curtis, are you hitting on me?” I teased.

He dropped his head and began to twiddle his thumbs. When he looked back up at me, he said very slowly, “Yeah . . . I’d like for us to know one another better. A
lot
better, if you know what I mean.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” I admitted. “I would love to know you a lot better. And I do know what you mean.”

“So are we going to do anything about it?”

It took me a moment to compose myself and get the picture of me humping him on the floor out of my mind. “I hope so,” I said slowly.

“Look, baby, if you want me to stop, you’d better tell me now. Otherwise, I’m going to take you to my place and once we get there I won’t be responsible for my actions.”

Curtis’s threat intrigued me and I didn’t waste any time responding. “I’d like to go to your place. And, whatever happens, happens.”