His Last Name (8 page)

C
HAPTER
15

Adrienne

I
could not sit in Philly for two more months. I was thinking about going back to Miami, or to Atlanta to be with Malaysia. I needed to get my old life back. My current life of deprivation had to end. I sat on the bed, undecided. What the hell was I going to do? At least I had a tenant who could pay my mortgage, but I needed another stream of income. I was not used to being broke. I needed to find a rich older man or something. I couldn't live like this forever.

The mail came and another letter from Ian arrived with another copy of his script.

The script sat on my dresser for several days, and I finally got around to reading it. Pages one to ten were good. Then eleven to thirty-five caught my attention and made me want more. I kept reading. Within an hour, I finished reading all one hundred and twenty-five pages. I remembered it being an excellent read, but I think my hate for Ian made me discount his work. The script was about five guys who all lived in the same dorm, Falcon Hall. They made a vow to each other that they would all graduate college no matter what. Some made it, others didn't.

The more I thought about it, the more interested I became in
Falcon Hall Boys
. Maybe Ian was right. This could be what got me out of all my debt. If I was going to sell it, I needed to register the script with the Writer's Guild of America. It belonged to whoever registered it, and then it would be me. I did a little research, and I learned that I should make a minimum of fifty thousand dollars—maybe a million. It was worth a try. He fucked me out of my dreams and hundreds of thousands of dollars, and it was only right that I got some of my money back. I took the liberty of changing a few things and making it my own. I read a bunch of articles on screenwriting and selling scripts. I contacted Blackground Films, like Ian asked, but they had merged with another company and weren't accepting any unsolicited scripts. So I submitted
Falcon Hall Boys
to some other small film companies and a few agents and hoped that someone would be interested in it.

* * *

A couple days later a producer from Aviera Films reached out to me. He had read the script in one night and asked if I was in L.A. and available to meet. I lied to him and told him I was. I scheduled a meeting with him at the end of the month. I checked out the company's website and read that they had produced a few indie films that made it to the Sundance Festival and were purchased. I needed to meet with him, sell him the script, and start recouping my losses. And if I did sell it, I would give Ian twenty-five percent, not forty. He didn't deserve anything.

I felt excited for the first time in months. Things seemed like they were possible again. I booked a flight with my child support money and decided my bills could be paid when I returned.

“Mom, I will be going out of town and I need you to do something for me.”

“What do you need me to do and why are you going out of town?”

“I have to take care of some business. I'm going to L.A. to sell Ian's script at the end of the month and I need you to pick up my rent money.”

She shook her head and said, “You are a horrible mother. You should be where your daughter is.”

“How? I couldn't stay there. I didn't have any money. All I can do is get a new lawyer and fight to get my custody back. I can't go kidnap Asia, or I will go to jail.”

“Well, no court would have been able to tell me what to do with you . . .”

“Remember my dad and his family did not want to be bothered with you or me. You were just his white ex-girlfriend with his biracial child. So you didn't have that problem, now did you?”

“Adrienne, life is not about running from one dream to the next dream. People get up and go to work. When are you going to wake up? You've always been a dreamer. It is time you get real about life. Get your daughter, get your old job back, and get your life together. Marry for love and not for money, and stop living in a fantasy world.”

“Uh huh, Mom. Fantasy world? Whatever.”

I was trying to remain respectful, but I had to say something back to my mother. She hit a major sore spot. Why did she have to bring Malaysia into the conversation?

“What the hell do you want me to do? I have to make something happen, or I'm going to be stuck with your ass for the rest of my life.”

“Don't curse at me.”

“How about you mind your business and when I come back, I'm moving out. How does that sound? I have better things to do than waste away at the same job for twenty years. Do you understand that I'm hundreds of thousands of dollars in debt? How long do you think that will take to make at a regular job? If I don't take a chance, how will I come up with that kind of money?”

“I don't know, but you'll wake up one day, because life has a funny way of catching up with you.”

“I
am
awake, and it already has. And now it is time for me to get ahead of it again.”

C
HAPTER
16

Zakiya

I
was finally Mrs. Jabril Smith. Our wedding was wonderful: it was a perfect July day filled with family, friends, and love. I had the big day that I had dreamed of since I was a little girl, but the next day Jabril flew to Charlotte to meet with his new team. Jabril sent Jabrilah, Lisa, my nephews, and me on a Disney Cruise vacation and told me we could go on two vacations after he was settled in with his new team.

So far, I liked Charlotte. It was like a city, but still had Southern charm. Instead of renting a big house, we opted for a condo. It was beautiful. It came already furnished. We had twenty-foot-high ceilings, hardwood flooring, and gigantic windows overlooking the city, and two terraces. I liked the coziness of having only four bedrooms and two baths. I hung up an oversize wedding picture in a gold frame and a few pictures of Jabrilah to make it feel more like home. Since we were only nine hours away from Philly, Jabril's mom and uncle visited twice shortly after we moved. It was great having the company and help with Brilah, because I missed having Lena around. I had asked her if she wanted to move with us, but she couldn't leave her husband and children.

I didn't want to tell Jabril yet, but I liked this move. The team colors were pretty, and the people were nice. The only thing I wasn't excited about was the new set of wives and girlfriends that I had to encounter. Would you believe one of the wives of the players sent me a message on Facebook just a week after moving, welcoming me to the team? She wanted to set up a lunch date. I had no intentions of getting to know her or anyone else on this team. For what? I decided that I didn't want to be bothered. All of the drama that I experienced with the last set of ladies was enough to teach me a lesson. “Hello” and “Goodbye” would suffice this time.

C
HAPTER
17

Monique

C
arl didn't quit his job, but he took a leave of absence. If he wanted to work hard every day when he didn't have to, that would be on him.

CeCe, Faheem, and Mom Laura came down to our new house for the big cookout that I was throwing for Kadir. He would be leaving for rookie camp in two days, and I wanted my son to enjoy his family and friends before the real work began.

“Y'all made it! Welcome to Charlotte,” I happily shouted to my family as they came through the door.

“I'm so happy you sent that driver to the airport for us. The man was so nice. He had a sign with our name on it, and he put the luggage in the trunk and opened my door,” Mom Laura said as she walked in the house and gave me a warm embrace.

“That's nothing, Mom Laura. You're welcome.”

“Faheem, look at you! I see that mustache and facial hair! Come on in.”

“Philly in the house,” my best friend playfully hollered, dropping her luggage off at the door. “Wow, this house is beautiful.”

“Thank you! Let me show you guys to your room.”

Kadir ran down the steps and over to Faheem. “What's up? Y'all finally made it. Let me show you my new car.” They ran to the garage like two little boys.

“I can't believe this house. You got this house together quick. Wow, I can't even get up these steps! How big is this place?” Mom Laura huffed. “How did you find it?”

“The real estate agent showed it to us, and I said we'd take it. We had to hurry up and find something so Ka could be comfortable and ready for work.”

We reached the top of the steps, and I walked to the bedroom closest to the stairs. “Mom Laura, here is your bedroom. I didn't get a chance to complete it yet. I ordered the curtains, but they are on back order.”

“This is plenty fine. I might not go home. I'm moving in here with y'all.”

“You can stay. You know Carl and I don't mind.”

“Where is Carl, anyway?”

“He went to Lowes to go pick up the grill.”

She sat on the bed, and then CeCe and I walked down the hall. I showed her to her room.

She closed the door and shouted, “Mo, I am so happy for you. You did good, girl. Like, really, look at your baby. The one we used to take to the park.”

“We did good, just like we said we would. Faheem and Kadir made it. They graduated high school without any babies and went to college.”

“Well, Faheem is not going to be a millionaire, but I'm proud of him. He made the dean's list and has a little girlfriend.”

“A girlfriend? Did you tell him that you don't want to be a grandmom?”

“Yes, I told him. I'm too sexy to be a grandmom. I can't believe we made our moms grandmoms so early. Now we would die if it happened to us.”

“I already had the conversation with Kadir. I said use a condom each and every time. Don't bring home any babies, strippers, or white girls. I'm going to be the only woman waiting outside the locker room for my boy. It's either me or Carl. So, what else is going on with y'all?”

“Nothing, only thing I'm stressing a little over Faheem's school balance. He's going back next month and I'm just hoping all his scholarships and financial aid come through.”

“Don't stress about no scholarship money, girl. I will pay the balance.”

“It's six thousand dollars.”

“No, problem, Cee. I got it.”

“But . . . I wasn't telling you so you can pay it . . .”

“I know you wasn't, but it's no big deal. Tell Faheem his aunt Mo hooked him up.”

“Damn, just like that you just solved a big problem for me. Thank you, Mo. We will pay you back.”

“No need. I'll write the check now.” I ran into my room to get my bag, took out my checkbook, and wrote her a check for eight thousand dollars. “Here, and get my nephew his books and a few pairs of sneakers, too.”

After everyone was settled in, we sat by the pool and Carl cooked on the grill. He had rows of salmon, chicken breast, turkey burgers, and a few beef ribs cooking. I was on margarita duty. “Who wants a drink?” I asked, pouring more tequila into the frozen strawberry mix.

“Mom, let me get one?” Kadir asked.

“No, boy. You can't drink. You're not twenty-one yet.”

“Hah. You're still a kid even though you're rich.” Faheem laughed.

“Let the boy have a drink, Mo. Don't let me tell them how you and CeCe used to get drunk off my Johnnie Walker and put water in it.”

“Yes, the good old days,” CeCe said.

Mom Laura shook her head. “Y'all were drinking my liquor. That's why I was always running out.”

“Here, take a margarita to make up for it. Oh, Kadir, go get the jerseys and give everybody one.”

Kadir ran into the house and came back and handed everyone his teal jersey with “Hall” written in purple big letters and the number 45 under it.

“I'm so proud of you, baby. I'm wearing mine to work,” Mom Laura said.

“You know I'm wearing mine on campus,” Faheem said.

“And we all are wearing these at his first game. One day everybody is going to be rocking number forty-five.”

“They will, but, Mom, you make sure you don't turn yours into a dress. I'm not joking. Seriously.”

“Whatever, boy.” I played around with the jersey, being silly and dancing to a Beyoncé song.

“I can't believe she came again and I missed her. Every time she comes to the city, I miss her,” CeCe sighed.

“Who, Beyoncé? Me too. Maybe we need to go to her. Look and see where she is going to be next. We can fly out to wherever she is.”

“Oh, really? Okay? We're just going to fly to see Beyoncé?”

“Yeah, we are.”

CeCe pulled up Beyoncé's tour dates and then passed me the phone and said, “She's not going to be in the States again for another seven months.”

I looked at the phone. “She's going to be in England. That's not that far. We can fly to London to see her.”

“No, that's crazy. We can just see her next time she comes. Plus, I have to work.”

“Call out from that job, let's get our passports and go to see Bey in London!”

CeCe and I went into the house and booked our reservation. Carl said I was doing too much, and Kadir and Faheem called us Stans. Who cares? We would be leaving for Europe in two and a half weeks. It felt wonderful wanting to do something and being able to do it as soon as you wanted to.

The party continued. Carl was taking a break from the grill, playing spades with Faheem and Kadir. CeCe was helping me straighten up the kitchen when the doorbell rang. We didn't know anyone in our neighborhood. We thought that maybe our music was too loud and the neighbors wanted us to turn it down.

I opened the door, only to see my crazy mother, Dottie, and Aunt Jean. I hated my mother and my hate was even stronger for my aunt. During my pregnancy with Kadir, her nickname for me was the “Pregnant Prom Queen.” She and my mom made my pregnancy miserable. They both told me I wouldn't be anything. They were in church every Sunday, but still did and said every wicked thing possible to make my life hell. As religious people, they weren't supposed to be so mean but their mental abuse could have very well driven me to suicide.

They both yelled in unison. “Surprise!”

“Huh? What the hell?” I did not hide the fact that I was highly annoyed. I walked away from the open door, leaving my aunt and mom in the doorway. I walked back to the yard to confront Carl. I knew he was behind the awful surprise.

“What the fuck, Carl? Why the hell would you invite her?” Everyone turned around to see why I was so upset.

“Mom, invite who?”

“Ask your father.” We both looked over at Carl. He put his hand of cards down and pulled me to the side. He began confessing before I could interrogate him.

“Yeah, I invited her. Be nice to them.” I couldn't believe Carl would do this to me, especially on a celebratory weekend for my child. My mom was such a negative person. She could find something wrong with heaven. She would probably say, “It's too peaceful in here, don't y'all have some noise?”

“Mo, I didn't feel right with my mom being down here and yours not. She should be here to celebrate Kadir, too!”

“Carl, how could you? I'm not ready to deal with them. Well, they can't stay here. There isn't enough room. You better book them a hotel room.”

“There's two empty rooms upstairs.”

“I don't care, she's not staying here.” I was angry and minutes later, my mother and Aunt Jean came in to the backyard uninvited.

“So, you were going to just leave me at the door, Monique?”

“Hey, Mom,” I said shaking my head and taking a deep breath.

“Kadir, look who's here!” I announced, pretending we cared. Kadir ran over to them and greeted them. My mother and Aunt Jean approached him like a loving nana and auntie, kissing his cheek and telling him how handsome and tall he had gotten, and how proud they were of him. It was unbelievable they had never showed up at games or sent any birthday gifts, and now they were his biggest cheerleaders.

“Y'all want something to eat?” Kadir asked.

“No, we ate at the airport waiting for a cab. Uhm, y'all got all those cars and nobody couldn't pick us up?” Aunt Jean questioned.

“We didn't know or we would have sent a car like we did for Mom Laura. Let me get your bag and show y'all to your room.” Kadir came up and took their things. I followed them into the house.

“So, Laura get the special treatment, and we get the slave treatment,” my mother mumbled under her breath.

It was hard for me not to cuss my mother out and tell her she wasn't invited anyway. I looked over at Carl and he waved his hands in front of himself, giving me the signal to chill. We followed them up the steps, and the first thing Aunt Jean had to say was something negative: “This is a whole lot of house, Monique. Hmm . . . you better hold on to some of that money. Put some up for a rainy day. If he gets hurt or something, he doesn't get that money.”

I corrected her. “Yeah, basketball money is guaranteed. Even if he gets hurt tomorrow—God forbid—he is still going to have the money on his contract. We're good. We couldn't spend it all at once if we wanted to.”

“I don't care what you say, it's easy to go broke. You hear me, Kadir?”

“Yes, ma'am. I won't.”

“My son won't be going broke at all. He has a smart mother and great financial advisors,” I lied.

“Mike Tyson went broke and he was ten times richer and better than Kadir,” my mom said, joining the conversation. That last comment deserved to be ignored.

“So, Mom, how many days are you staying?” I asked.

“Until Saturday. I have to make it to church on Sunday. You have to praise the Lord for all your blessings. From the looks of things, you need to be praising God twenty-four seven.”

“I do. Every day.”

The weekend wasn't as horrible as I expected. As much as the Evileens were against spending Ka Ka's money, they had no problem accepting his generosity at the mall. He gave them both one-thousand-dollar Visa gift cards. They bought Michael Kors bags and Pandora bracelets, and Aunt Jean got herself some sparkly Uggs even though it was the middle of the summer. They were in a great mood on the way to the airport. They even thought about not going to church on Sunday, but I assured them that they should.

Carl and I dropped them off at the airport. Happily, I walked them to the TSA gates and wished them well. Then, the moment I was in the car alone with Carl, I cussed his ass out.

“If you ever invite them to my house again, I'm going to beat your ass. What the hell were you thinking?”

He chuckled. “It wasn't that bad.”

“I'm not joking. It wasn't, but there better not be a next time.”

“There won't. Everybody had fun, though, and that's what's important. Kadir's whole life is never going to be the same again. And I just wanted him to experience some normalcy.”

With everybody gone, I would have some time to spend with Carl. We hadn't had one-on-one time in forever. I couldn't remember the last time he bent me over and made love to me. I wanted both to happen soon. It was time to rekindle our relationship.

“Let's get a drink and sit by the pool,” I suggested. I wanted to get him tipsy and try to initiate some poolside sex. I poured what was left of the margaritas and had a seat by our pool.

“Isn't this nice, just you and me. We have all the time in the world,” I said as I stretched across his lap and unzipped his pants. I began stroking his manhood up and down and then licked the top of his dick to get it wet. After he was well lubricated, I stood up and lifted my dress up and began to insert his dick inside of me, when he stopped me and nudged me off of him.

“Why are you stopping me?”

“Just stop, Mo.”

“What's wrong?”

“All of this. I have something to talk to you about. I have been thinking about moving here and I've decided I'm not quitting my job.”

“Why not?”

“Why would I retire at forty? If I quit my job I'll have fun for a month or two. Then I'll be bored, and what am I going to do for the next thirty or forty years? A man needs a purpose. Without a purpose, you don't live. Maybe you should think about getting a job, too.”

“I paid my dues already. I'm not working anywhere.”

“I don't feel that way, and I'm staying in Philly. Kadir is grown, and he won't even be here. And if he needs me, he will call.”