Playing the Hand You're Dealt (25 page)

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Authors: Trice Hickman

BOOK: Playing the Hand You're Dealt
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My mind went back to the way Ed had practically seduced me at school the other day, then to his strange behavior last night—ignoring me one minute and then sending me a thoughtful text message hours later. I felt like a fool being strung along on a back-and-forth ride to nowhere. When he glanced in my direction, I shot him a look that could've struck down lightning. “I've got to get out of here,” I whispered to myself.
I headed inside to get my things and call a cab. I climbed the stairs and was on my way to the guest bedroom when halfway down the hall I heard the voice that made my heart beat fast.
“Why aren't you out there enjoying your party, birthday girl?” Ed asked.
I was upset with him and I was sure he knew, otherwise he wouldn't have taken the risk of following me here. I turned around to face him, trying to find a place for my eyes to rest other than on his. They settled on the John Biggers painting on the wall behind him. “I'm going home. I just need to get my things.” I didn't want to give him an explanation beyond that.
“But the party's in full swing.”
“All the more reason for you to go back so you can continue socializing with your wife.” I knew it was a childish thing to say, but it was what I felt.
“Emily,” he said softly. “What you saw down there was obligation, nothing more.”
“If that's what you say.” I turned and began to walk away.
“Wait,” he said as he reached for my arm, stopping me in my tracks. His touch felt warm and inviting. “Why won't you look at me?”
Instead of answering him I turned away and focused my eyes on the guest bedroom at the end of the hall. I knew that if I could make it to safety on the other side of that door, I'd be able to gather my thoughts. I tried to walk away, but my feet felt as though they were stuck in cement. Ed faced me, still holding my arm, forcing me to look at him.This time I cast my eyes down to my feet.
“Emily, why won't you look at me?”
“I can't.”
“Why not?”
“You know why.”
“Do you love me?” he asked, softly.
I couldn't answer. I had to get away from him. Shaken, I walked toward the room I had slept in only weeks ago—he followed. After what seemed like a mile, I reached the door and put my hand on the chrome-plated knob. He stood close behind me, his body leaning into mine. I could feel his chest on my back and his cool lips on my bare shoulder as he bent his head and delivered a gentle kiss to my skin. “Ed, please don't.” I trembled.
“I love you, Emily,” he whispered into my ear.
He put his hand over mine, turned the knob, and pushed as he opened the door. I thought I'd find safety once I reached the other side, but now all I felt was panic. Ed closed the door behind us and repeated his question. “Do you love me?”
I thought about his dutiful wife socializing outside, about my loyal best friend partying in the backyard and the chain of events that would follow if I reached out and seized the moment. My rational mind said no, but everything else inside me said yes. My back was pressed against the door and Ed's body was close to mine. He took a step forward and leaned into me until I felt his strong chest against my breasts, and the intoxicating heat that arose from our bodies. I inhaled the robust scent of his cologne and the faint hint of wine on his breath. His hand moved toward my face, his fingers resting under my chin as he lifted my head toward his lips. “I said I love you, Emily,” he whispered again, leaning in as I held my breath.
Suddenly, our mood was broken when we heard a loud crash from outside, and an even louder
Fuck you, ma'fucka!
coming from a deep, male voice. Ed pulled away and we both ran to the window in the direction of the sound, looking down on the backyard below. We couldn't see anything because of the tent, but we both recognized the man's voice. It was Carl!
“Shit!” Ed cursed. He turned, opened the door, and hurried down the hall as I followed close behind.
Chapter 23
Samantha . . .
 
 
 
 
You Better Slow Your Roll
 
E
ven though Mother grated on my last nerve with her phony pretense, I had to give her credit, she knew how to throw a hel-lafied party. The ambience was beautiful, the food was delicious, the band was excellent, and the alcohol was flowing. And despite the steady rain and oppressive humidity, people had come out in droves.The party was an official hit.Things were going well until I looked up and saw Carl walking through the crowd.
Oh, shit!
I said to myself. Carl was headed in my direction with a look on his face that made sweat drip from my armpits. I wasn't sure how he got past the event planner and her team of pit bulls posing as servers, but I knew I had to act fast. “Excuse me one minute, baby,” I said to Tyler. I left him in conversation with Uncle Ross as I rushed to cut Carl off before he found his way into the flow of the party. When I reached him he was already in the middle of the tent. “What're you doing here?” I asked in a low voice, trying to be civil.
Carl looked past me and saw Tyler standing in the corner. “What the fuck is that punk ma'fucka doin' here?”
His tone was nasty and his voice was loud enough to be heard over the soft jazz in the background. My mother and her snooty friends looked up with horrified stares. Carl didn't seem his usual self, and I could tell he was definitely on something. His eyes were glazed over and his face was twisted. He was wearing a black bandana tied around frizzy-looking cornrows, a white sports jersey, sagging jeans, and his signature Tims.To say he looked out of place among the Brooks Brothers and silk around us was an understatement.
“Carl,” I said as gently as I could, trying to reason with him again. “It's not too late for you to turn around and leave, that way we won't have to get the police involved.” I knew the mention of men in blue uniforms would snap him out of whatever trip he was on.
“Fuck the
po-lice.
I don't give a damn 'bout no
po-lice,
” he growled, rocking his body back and forth in an animated gesture.
I rolled my eyes, unfazed, by his gangster pose that was meant to intimidate the bourgeois crowd. But my attitude quickly changed when I saw his cousin, Ronnie, standing behind him—there for backup! At that moment, I knew some real shit was about to go down.
If this had been any other function, with any other people, at any other time, I wouldn't have paid a second thought to Carl and his outrageous hood drama. But this was different. This wasn't just my party, it was Emily's, too, and it was actually more for her and her late mother than it was for me. Tyler was here, my father and Uncle Ross were here, Gerti was here, and above all else, this was the home where my son laid his head every night. Nobody messed with the people I loved, and I was furious that Carl had brought his bullshit to my parents' front door. I was trying to be good and make better choices, but now Carl had pissed me off. Before I knew it, the crazy, hotheaded, say-anything Samantha returned with a vengeance.
I came up on Carl so close I could reach out and touch his nose. I stepped out of my heels and started removing my Swarovski crystal earrings as I spoke. “All right muthafucker, you made your point. But I'll be damned if I'm gonna let you come up in here, uninvited, and fuck things up for my family. Now, if you don't get the hell outta here right now, I'ma start beatin' your ass right here in front of all these people!”
The music stopped, heads turned, and it was on.
I wasn't the least bit afraid because I knew that if I hit Carl, he only had one of two choices. He could either hit me back and face a serious beat down from every man under the tent, or he could walk away in shame. Either way, he was going to lose.
“What the hell's goin' on?” Tyler said, coming up from the back. He quickly took me by my arm and shielded me behind him, where Uncle Ross was now standing. “What's your damn problem, man?” he barked at Carl, unleashing his Brooklyn-born flavor.
I didn't want Tyler involved in my mess. But now that we were together, my mess was his mess, too. I felt terrible, but I didn't have time for regrets, I had to think fast before something deadly happened.
Crash!
Everyone under the tent except Uncle Ross, Tyler, and me hit the ground as if bullets were flying. Uncle Ross didn't flinch because he was tough like that. Tyler stayed firmly planted where he stood because he was fearless. And I didn't move because I was crazy.
I hadn't noticed before now, but Carl had a beer bottle in his right hand and had thrown it to the ground, causing a loud explosion that landed at his feet. “Fuck you, ma'fucka!” he yelled at Tyler.
They stood face-to-face, neither of them backing down. I heard my mother call out in the background, “Dear God in heaven, someone call the police!” I glanced over at her and she looked as though she were going to faint.
If anyone had told me that my party would end up like this, I would've stayed inside my condo with the door locked and the dead bolt on. I stood in the middle of a backyard full of people, feeling pissed, humiliated, and stunned all at the same time. It was my birthday, and it was a freakin' disaster.
Daddy came running into the backyard with Emily behind him. He looked directly at me. “Sam, are you all right?”
I was too disoriented to answer, so I simply nodded to show that I was okay.
“I thought I told you to never come around here again,” Daddy said as he got up in Carl's face. His voice was as hard as concrete, and I could tell that he was ready to wipe the floor with Carl's ass.
Thank God I would never know what could've happened next because just as Tyler, Daddy, Carl, and Ronnie all stepped to each other, one of the party guests wearing a silk shirt and pants that were way too tight came rushing over, holding up a badge. “Everyone step back!” he said. Then from out of nowhere, sirens started blaring and uniformed officers rushed in.
Less than twenty minutes later it was all over. Carl and Ronnie were in the back of a squad car headed downtown.The event planner had dialed 911 as soon as Carl and Ronnie pushed past her and one of her servers on their way to the backyard. The police knew who Daddy was, and because the off-duty officer had witnessed the entire scene, it was pretty much a wrap.
At first I thought I might be going downtown along with Carl and Ronnie because technically, I was the only person who had communicated a verbal threat. But I had the best trial lawyer on the East Coast by my side, so I was in the clear. Emily and Gerti stood close by as I made my statement under Daddy's careful direction, while Tyler held my hand for emotional support.
My family members stuck around, and to my surprise, nearly all the partygoers did, too. But I soon learned that they hadn't stayed out of support or concern, they were just nosy. Rumors and speculation had already started to fly through the crowded tent. “When they searched him they found a gun and drugs,” one person whispered.
The next sound I heard was my mother's voice echoing through the air as she spoke over the microphone. “Thank you all for coming to celebrate Samantha and Emily's thirtieth birthday,” she began, sounding as composed as she always did. “I deeply regret the unfortunate incident that you were subjected to, and I sincerely apologize on behalf of my family for any strain it has caused.The police have assured us that the perpetrators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.”
She went on for another minute or two as she thanked everyone for their contributions to the MS Society and encouraged them to stay and have a good time. As I listened to her speak, she was the picture of calm. I marveled at how eloquently she handled the horrible situation, with dignified grace. She was strong and in control, not erratic and tactless as I had been. It was the first time in my entire life that I ever wanted to be like my mother.
“That was smooth,”Tyler said.
I nodded in agreement. “I'm ready to go.” I felt terrible and ashamed, and I couldn't stay a minute longer, but I knew there was one thing I had to do first. “I just need to apologize to my mother before we leave.”
“Apologize? To your mother?” Tyler said in disbelief. “Excuse me, but what's your name?”
“Yeah, I know, right?” This was the new me, and I was determined to make a change.
Despite Mother's urging for everyone to stay, the crowd quickly dispersed. Now that all the major drama had died down, they wanted to hurry home so they could crank up the gossip mill. Tyler went to bring the car around while I offered Emily a ride home. She actually looked more ready to go than I was. Meanwhile, I braced myself when I saw Mother and Aunt Dorothy approach.
This was one time that I was prepared to acquiesce and accept whatever tongue-lashing Mother was going to dish out. This embarrassing fiasco wasn't Carl's fault, it was mine, for even being associated with him. I needed to claim responsibility for my role in what had happened.
Mother walked up to me and stood close. “How dare you bring shame to this family . . . again!” she hissed in a low voice, looking at me through murderous eyes.
“Calm down, Brenda,” Aunt Dorothy cautioned, placing her hand on Mother's shoulder. “Let's go back inside the house and have Gerti make you some tea.”
Gerti rolled her eyes at Aunt Dorothy and sucked her teeth in disgust.
I lowered my head. “Mother, I'm sorry for—”
“And you should be,” she hissed again. “I spent my time, energy, and money trying to help
you
, and this is the thanks I get?”
“What a bitch,” Uncle Ross said under his breath as he looked in Mother's direction.
Mother cut her eyes at Uncle Ross, then continued to speak to me in a low voice, but her tone roared like the rain falling atop the tent. “This is how you repay me for what I've done for you? With embarrassment, humiliation, and shame!”
“I said I was sorry,” I pleaded.
“That's the story of your pathetic life! Sorry for getting high in the basement, sorry for the DUI your father had to bail you out of, sorry for having an illegitimate child.”
I was trying to apologize, and I wanted to be calm and graceful as she'd been, but her last words set me off because now she'd gone too far. CJ wasn't illegitimate. He was a blessing. The only thing I'd ever done that I was proud of. I put my hand on my hip and shot daggers at Mother with my eyes. “You better slow your roll,” I told her.
Slap!
My head went back, then twisted to the side as the palm of Mother's hand came crashing down against the side of my cheek. “How dare you speak to me in that tone,” she spat through clenched teeth.
Smack!
I hit her back so hard my hand stung and she staggered backward, falling into Aunt Dorothy's arms before regaining her footing. My head was about to explode. I'd always talked about how I wanted to slap my mother, but never in my life did I think I would actually do it. I lowered my head, feeling the first of an avalanche of tears that had begun to fall. Emily walked over to me, put her arm around my shoulder, and glared at Mother as though she wanted to slap her, too.
Daddy stepped up and gave Mother an icy cold stare. “Dammit, Brenda! This is enough.”
His hard tone startled her, and me, too. I had never heard Daddy speak to her in such a rough manner. Mother's eyes opened wide, as if he'd just stepped on her big toe. Now I wasn't sure who she was angrier with, Daddy or me.
“Ed, how can you stand there and defend what
your
daughter just did,” she huffed.
“Because we've all had enough drama for one evening,” Daddy huffed right back. He looked over at Emily, then to me. “Come on, ladies,Tyler's waiting for you out front.”
After Tyler and I dropped Emily off at her house, we headed home. We didn't exchange many words during the ride back because we were each lost in our own thoughts about everything that had happened. I felt awful that he'd seen the ugly side of me at the party, and now that it was all over and he had time to digest it, I wondered what he was thinking. My only consolation was that he hadn't witnessed the licks that Mother and I had exchanged while he was getting the car.

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