Saint And Sinners (92 page)

“I’ll do anything! Anything, Lord! I’m begging you! And I love that man so much…that
if…if you tell me I gotta leave him so he’ll be happy again, I will! I don’t want
to, but…” Her running mascara stung her eyes. “But I will, because I love Saint
just
that much! Lord…my world has crashed! Please help me fix it!” She looked over to
her right, and took note of a woman staring at her through all her antics. She didn’t
even care—just glared back at the blond, whose lips stood ajar as she eyeballed Xenia,
as if she were some circus-tent living freak. Xenia turned away and looked up to where
the minister at her old Sunday school told her God lived… She glanced up at the sky,
and burst out into an almost maniacal laugh when a strange, comforting warmth came
over her. There, partially hidden behind a tall building with colorful flags waving
to and fro representing many countries around the globe, appeared a beautiful, vibrant
rainbow. She’d never seen one with colors so brilliant—and how amusing that it happened
in smoggy Manhattan.

Could this be a sign from her Creator…that everything
would
be okay, turn out all right in the end? Could it be that hopefully, she could see
enough
of the solution to have restored faith in herself, her marriage, and most importantly,
her very own Rainbeau?

In that moment, she recalled a scripture her grandmother had kept tucked away inside
her Bible on a slip of cream-colored paper. Xenia remembered every word and recited
it aloud as the tears came down a bit slower now, a smile stuck to her face like honey.

“Trust in the LORD with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding…Proverbs
3:5”

“Yes, Grandma, that is so true… I remember another scripture in Genesis, too; it went
something like, ‘I have placed my rainbow in the clouds. It is the sign of my covenant
with you and with all the earth.’”

Yes, I understand now, Lord…I understand…

*

“Lawrence, I can’t
believe you would do something like this. I told you that in confidence!” Saint screamed
like a banshee as he pointed to the Native Indian man standing before him. The fucker’s
long black hair swayed as he jeered back while Saint slammed his office door closed,
trapping the two of them inside like imprisoned combatants.

“I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about,” Lawrence said, sounding miffed.

“I just spoke to Jagger out in the hallway, and he tells me, ‘Sorry about you and
Xenia. That explains why you’ve been so cranky at work.’”

“And you just
assume
that I told him, huh?” Lawrence pointed to himself, his eyes glinting. “Well I didn’t!”
Lawrence threw up his hands. “Maybe he read you, did you consider that?!”

Before Saint could respond, his door swung open once more, and there Jagger stood
clutching his cell phone in one hand and a pad and paper in the other.

“We need to talk about this case,” he said on a heavy exhale as he stormed past both
men and plopped in one of the over-stuffed chairs in front of Saint’s desk, completely
oblivious to the shit storm he’d flown into.

“How’d you find out about me and Xenia?” Saint didn’t waste another second trying
to get to the bottom of this breach of trust. He wanted to find out who turned his
ass in, made a fool of him, spread his business like smooth peanut butter on a cracker.

Jagger hesitated for a moment, then placed the pad of paper on Saint’s desk, his expression
turning sheepish. “…Traci.”

“I’ll wait for my apology,” Lawrence said calmly as he, too, took his seat beside
Jagger, and crossed his legs, his head held high in an imperial fashion.

“So that’s what your wife does, hmmm? Tell you all my personal business? That was
supposed
to be a private discussion between Xenia and Traci, not Xenia, Traci and Jagger.”
Saint simpered as he walked over to his desk and banged his ink pen down on the damn
thing, causing it to bounce and land on the glossy, cherry wood floor.

“Look, women talk, okay?” Jagger said matter-of-factly, a stupid grin on his face.
“That night Xenia was over at my place, they confided in one another.”

“Oh, that’s funny, because I don’t recall hearing any gossip about
you
, Jagger,” Saint snapped, sitting back in his seat and folding his hands over his
stomach. “And my wife talks for a living!”

“Look, I’m sorry about what’s going on, okay? But don’t take that shit out on Lawrence
and me. We are your friends, we didn’t do anything!”

“Why doesn’t Traci concentrate on taking a damn cooking class instead of spreading
my business around?! Buy a damn cookbook and study
that
shit, that’s what the fuck
she
can do!”

“I otta punch you in the fucking face!” Jagger roared as he rose from his seat.

“Saint, stop it. Jagger, sit down. He didn’t mean it,” Lawrence calmly interjected.

Jagger calmed a bit, and returned to his chair. “We only want what’s best for you
and your behavior around here this week has been completely out of control,” he explained.

Saint rolled his eyes and turned away, dismissing Jagger as he often did as of late.

“You can look that way if you want, but it’s true. Everyone is talking. You are awfully
irritable, you yell and scream and work all the time now, as if you’re afraid to even
go home. I have no idea who you thought you were fooling. It is obvious something
is seriously wrong… You were blocking me, too. Now it all makes sense.”

“Okay fine, now you know. You happy?” Saint hollered, snatching his laptop out of
the case and placing it on his desk. He popped the damn thing open, wishing the entire
world would just go taciturn for the rest of the blasted day.

“No,
neither
of us is happy about this!” Lawrence exclaimed. “Saint, I can only imagine how helpless
you feel. Here you are, a sex therapist, having a major crisis in your love life that
is neither you nor your wife’s fault. To add insult to injury, you discovered that
she
does
, in fact, have desire, just not with you. That would be devastating for even the
strongest of men.”

“You know about that, too?!”

“Well.” Lawrence shrugged. “Traci called Donna and—”

“Jesus Christ!” He looked for something to throw, but now two pens were on the ground
and he sure as hell wasn’t going to toss his MacBook against the wall. “Loose mothafuckin’
lips! Word spreads faster amongst you all quicker than a roadrunner and cheetah racing
towards a finish line. Normally, I would encourage her to confide in a friend if she
didn’t feel she could with me, but this has to stop. I have to tell Xenia to discontinue
talking to Traci about our personal matters; it’s obviously too much responsibility!
Why does your wife talk so fucking much?!”

“She does not! She was concerned!”

“Bull! She wanted to gossip, and that’s one thing that can’t be blamed on the baby.
That woman has got the biggest mouth in the entire fuckin’ 212 area code! I wouldn’t
bet a dime on her to be able to zip it for just one damn second!”

“Don’t talk about my wife again, man!” Jagger pointed at him, his brows dipped as
his ice blue eyes turned bright orange. “That is my final warning to you, Saint.”

“Oh, shut the hell up! If Traci got paid to gossip, you’d be billionaires! I know
you’re gettin’ a real kick out of this, Jagger! A part of you enjoys it when I’m down
on my luck. You’re always tryna compete with me, one-up-man type bullfuckery and other
seedy, sneaky shit!” Saint found an ass-shaped tape dispenser hiding partially behind
his computer and hauled
it
, too.

“You are completely delusional, you egotistical son of a bitch!”

“You can’t even
spell
delusional and egotistical you fucking dickhead, you muscle-necked imbecile, so why
in hell are you even sayin’ the words?!” Saint belted.

“I can spell jackass though.” Jagger grinned as his eyes continued to change colors.
“… But why should I have to, when I can just point at one?!” he roared, pointing an
accusing finger in Saint’s direction. “And I may not have a fancy degree like yourself,
Saint, but at least I’m not coming in here all bent out of shape, acting like a jerk
to everyone because I haven’t had sex in a while and for me to one up you it would
mean that I actually give a fuck! I was tryna be nice, tell you that I understood
why you’ve been so bent out of sorts but just for
this
, I hope you don’t get laid for at least a whole ’nother two months, maybe longer!”

“And I hope a big ass flying saucer comes from outer space and crashes on top of you.
Flattening you like a damn IHop pancake!”

“Would you two stop it?!” Lawrence screamed.

“…And then I hope it backs up, goes in reverse and crashes on you again and again…and
again after that. It would be the only time you were actually close to intelligence.”
Saint muttered, determined to get in the last word.

“Jesus Christ! You two are like children right now! Enough! … Look, Jagger, pull your
head out of your ass, can’t you see the man is suffering here?” He pointed in Saint’s
direction. “And how would you like it if Saint and I knew the intimate details of
your
sex life, and you hadn’t told us? Of course he’d be angry! I knew of the situation
but not all of these details until a little while ago… It’s terrible, now both of
you just calm down. You’re friends, just stop it.”

Everyone went quiet for a long while, trying to get control of themselves.

“Now.” Lawrence said in an even tone after some time, breaking the thick tension in
the room. “Saint, since we both know, and it’s out in the open, before we discuss
this new case, would you like to talk to us? I mean, there is no point in keeping
tight-lipped anymore.”

Saint huffed, picked up the remote to his music system and hit play. Mya came on singing,
“My Love Is Like Whoa.”

His head dropped and he closed his eyes while the gritty clutches of days passed encompassed
him. A wave of shame drifted over his heart and bittersweet memories swirled inside
his skull, etching flashes of a naked woman he’d run to the ends of heaven and hell
for—all she had to do was say the fucking word. One late evening, several years ago,
Xenia had danced to this very song for him before she fucked the life out of him…leaving
him
almost
spent…

Damn! I want my baby back!

“Okay guys, besides Raphael, you two are like my brothers. We fight, we argue, we
love one another…so here it is. Xenia has gone completely crazy, man.” He sighed and
massaged between his eyes, fighting another sinus headache that threatened to hit.
“I told her about some shit that happened at a museum, and ever since then, she has
been blowing my damn phone up.” He opened his eyes, rolled them and looked listlessly
towards a side window.

“…We noticed.” Jagger smirked. “She’s calling like every twenty minutes. I was hoping
that was a good sign, actually.”

“No, it’s not.” Saint shook his head.

“How did this begin, like, what happened at the museum?” Lawrence questioned. Five
minutes later, Saint had given the play by play, only to be met with wide-open mouths.
Then the two men looked at each other and yelled simultaneously,

“Why did you tell her that?!”

“Awwww, man!” Saint spun around in his chair, knowing he was about to get a lecture.
Hell, he regretted the shit now, too…but it was done! What could he do? “I was tryna
be honest, guys! Full disclosure! You know, open lines of communication ’nd shit…”
He scratched behind his neck, feeling nervous. “I didn’t
do
anything and if I had, I would have told her that, too. I felt guilty all the same.
I just wanted to be truthful with her, you know?” Saint shrugged.

“…And here you accused
me
of being an imbecile. I woulda known not to tell Traci some shit like
this
!” Jagger burst out laughing.

“Jagger, shut up.” Lawrence chided then turned back towards Saint.

“Oh God, look, Saint, I can’t believe that I have to give the Don Juan of our group
marital advice, but it seems that I do. Never, ever, ever,
ever
tell your wife when you are sexually attracted to another woman!”

“Have you ever been?” Saint asked Lawrence, a smile budding across his face.

“Of course I have been! And Donna will
never
know about it, especially because I want to stay alive, if that’s all right with
you. I kinda like this living thing, breathing and taking in air, you know?” He chuckled.

“What about you, Jagger? You ever see something hot and tempting and think, ‘Damn,
I’d like to give that a test drive?’”

“No,” the man said emphatically.

“You liar!” Lawrence roared. “Yes he did, Saint.” Lawrence tattled on the man, right
then and there, which fueled Saint’s fire, made him a little less edgy. “I was with
him when it happened. Traci and Jagger had had an argument. This was back in L.A.,
and—”