The Pact (8 page)

It was the same way with Pop when he met Gloria. I didn’t have a say in the matter; I was just told that I would have a new stepmother. Nobody warned me that my life would be turned upside down and that I would lose my father to a gold digger. Our relationship as I knew it was suddenly different—no more basketball games at Philips Arena, and no more rolling through Buckhead on a Sunday afternoon in Pop’s pickup truck. No more eating TV dinners in our underwear while watching SportsCenter in the den. All of that changed. Instead of it being just Pop and me, we were now a threesome. Here I was going through the same thing all over again.

“Congratulations, I guess….” That was all I could say.

I walked into the kitchen, grabbed a Little Debbie chocolate cupcake from the shelf and stuffed the whole thing into my mouth. I poured myself a glass of milk and sat at the bar.

“That’s all you have to say, Marcus?” Mom asked.

“What else is there to say, Mom?” I asked. “You didn’t give me an opportunity to have a say in the matter.”

“Marcus, Leon and I have been dating for the past nine months. You weren’t here during that time, but I’ve been very eager for you to meet him.”

Not eager enough,
I thought. I’d been in Houston for almost a month, and this was the first I’d heard of Leon.

“You asked me to move here with you, Mom, but I had no idea that you wanted me to move here with you and someone else. I thought it was just going to be me and you.”

“Marcus, you’ll be gone away to college in the next couple of years. Where does that leave me? Alone again?” she asked. “I want happiness, too, just like your father has with Gloria.”

“It’s no big deal, Mom. I’m happy for you,” I said, “but I think I’ve made my decision about moving here. One stepparent is enough for me…and I already have Gloria.”

With that, I hopped from the bar stool and headed back to my room. Before I walked out, I could see that Mom’s eyes were a little moist. I had hurt her feelings. But she’d hurt mine, too, just springing this dude and this whole marriage thing on me like that. She hadn’t even given me an opportunity to get to know the guy. She’d simply said, “Hey, Marcus, this is Leon…and by the way, we’re getting married. What do you think of that?” How selfish was that? I remembered talking to him on the phone once last Christmas, when he asked me what Santa had brought me. I had long stopped believing in Santa and knew then that he couldn’t possibly have any kids my age. And if he didn’t have teenage kids of his own, how could he relate to me?

I stretched my legs across my bed, placed the headphones of my iPod into my ears and listened to Young Jeezy. I was tired from shooting hoops all day, and before long, I had dozed off. When I woke up, an afghan had been thrown over me, the old-school music had stopped playing and the house was quiet. I tiptoed into the living room to see if Mom and Leon were still there.

Mom sat on the sofa in her pajamas, the remote control in her hand.

“Hey, Ma, you okay?” I asked.

“Hey, sleepyhead. You fell asleep before dinner was done.” She looked over at me. Her eyes bloodshot, like she’d been crying. “I fixed you a plate, though. It’s on the stove.”

“I’m sorry about earlier, Mom. I was kind of rude.”

“Yes, you were. But it’s okay, Marcus.”

“It’s just that you caught me off guard with your engagement news. And I don’t even know the dude.”

“You were right, Marcus. I should’ve introduced you to Leon long ago, when we knew that we were serious about each other. We should’ve flown to Atlanta, so that you could have spent some time with him…gotten to know him months ago.”

“I’m sorry that we live so far apart.”

“That’s not your fault, baby. It’s mine,” she said. “But I’m trying to fix that.”

“I know, Mom…and I’ve been thinking about it. I do want to move here, and go to school here.” I wasn’t sure why I said that, but I did. Seeing her with tears in her eyes did something to my heart, and this was the only way I knew to fix it. I wanted to see my mother laughing and happy, not with bloodshot eyes. And if my moving to Houston made her happy, that was what I wanted. “I’ll call Pop later and let him know.”

“Are you serious, Marcus?”

“Yeah, I’m serious,” I told her.

“We can have your father ship your things here. That way you won’t even have to go back to Atlanta.”

“What about my Jeep?”

“Oh, don’t worry about that old thing.” She smiled. “I was waiting to surprise you, but…I guess I could tell you now….” She stood, walked into the kitchen and refilled her wineglass. “The BMW outside…it’s yours.”

“For real?”

“Yes, for real.” She grabbed the keys from the bar and threw them my way. “It’s your car.”

“What will you drive?” I asked.

“There’s a cute little Mercedes that I’ve had my eye on for a long time,” she said. “Leon bought it for me today. That was part of his proposal. He had it all wrapped up in a bow.”

“Are you for real?” I asked thoughtfully. “What does he do for a living, anyway?”

“He’s a lawyer…actually, a partner at his firm,” she said. “You’re gonna like him, Marcus. He’s really a good man.”

I didn’t know if I would like Leon, but I liked the fact that I was the new owner of a convertible BMW with leather seats and a bumping system. Maybe living in Houston wouldn’t be so bad after all. Actually, it was all good until I told Pop.

“Have you lost your mind, Marcus?” Pop was nearly screaming in my ear after I told him the news.

“I think I might like to live with Mom for a little while, Pop,” I told him. “I’ve lived with you since eighth grade. Now I want to stay with Mom during my last couple of years. She deserves that.”

“She deserves that? Are you kidding me, son?” He was hurt. “This is the woman who walked out on us—on you—because she was tired of being a wife and mother, leaving us to pick up the pieces and get our lives back on track. And we did it, Marcus, me and you, we did it. Did you forget about all that?”

“No, Pop, I didn’t forget. But regardless, I have to forgive her.”

“Well, Marcus. That is your mother, and you should forgive her. I just don’t want to see you hurt again,” he said, “so you think long and hard about this…and if your decision is to stay in Houston with your mother, then I guess I have to support that.”

My pop had done his best to raise me. He taught me things that only a father could instill in his son, things like how to be a hard worker and to be a man of character. He taught me that you should treat people the way you wanted to be treated. He spent time with me and encouraged me to do my best in school. I understood his hesitation about me living with my mother. When Mom left, I had a hard time emotionally. I even went to therapy for a little while to get through the difficult time. It was Pop who talked to me through the nights until I finally fell asleep. It was Pop who had done all the work of raising me through the difficult times, and now Mom wanted to come in and benefit from my most important years—the last two years of high school.

“Thanks, Pop.” I needed his blessing. His opinion mattered to me. “I need your support in this.”

“What kinda car did she buy you?”

“How do you know she bought me a car?”

“I know Dorothy Carter better than anyone else. She gets what she wants by any means necessary.” Pop laughed sarcastically.

“She gave me a BMW.”

“I knew it!”

“It doesn’t mean that much to me, Pop. You know I’m not into material things. But it is nice. It’s got the little sporty wheels on it and everything.”

“Your Jeep is a good-running vehicle, Marcus,” he said, “not to mention you saved up for months just to buy it with your hard-earned cash. That should mean something to you.”

“It does, Pop. I love my Jeep,” I said.

He was right. I had saved up for months just to buy my Jeep, and every week I washed it, waxed it and rubbed Armor All on the wheels to make them shine. I kept the interior spotless and had just put a hot system into it, with new speakers. My Jeep was my pride and joy.

“Your Jeep will be here waiting for you when you come for visits,” he said. “And what about Indigo? What are you gonna do about her?”

“We broke up at the beginning of the summer. Made this stupid pact to be free to see other people,” I told him. “It was her idea.”

“You miss her?”

“Nah, Pop. I don’t miss her one bit,” I lied. Truthfully, I thought of Indigo every day. I missed everything about her, but I couldn’t admit that to anyone. “There are plenty of honeys here. It’s a single man’s playground.”

That was a phrase that I’d heard my pop use with his buddies before, “a single man’s playground.” I had been waiting for the perfect opportunity to use it, and it actually sounded pretty good—if I believed it. The girls in Houston really didn’t mean anything to me. Rena was beautiful and all, but I didn’t have any feelings for her. Not like I had for Indigo. Rena was just nice to look at. I’d originally had plans of reuniting with Indigo at the end of the summer when we both returned to Atlanta, but things had suddenly changed. I wouldn’t be returning to Atlanta after all. The thought made me sad, but I couldn’t let it get me down. I snapped out of it.

“What do you know about a single man’s playground? Boy, you are something else.” He laughed.

“I know, Pop, I’m just like you.”

“Marcus, if living with your mother is what you really want, then you have my blessing. Just know that you always have a home in Atlanta if you change your mind. And I’m always here for you, son, anytime, day or night,” Pop said. “You got that?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now tell your mama I said hello. I gotta go cut Mrs. Jackson’s grass. Wish you were here to cut it for me.”

“Pop, you could always hire somebody to cut it.”

“Not a chance. I just put a new spark plug in that old lawn mower, and it’s as good as new.”

My father bought, sold and managed old properties for a living. Not only was he a landlord, but he was also the Mr. Fix-It Man and did all the repairs himself. He even cut the lawns of his elderly tenants. He refused to hire someone to do the work and didn’t have any problem dragging me along to help him out. I hated the thought of unclogging toilets and trimming bushes, but I did it. And now that I was gone, Pop would have to do these things all by himself. Maybe he would finally see that he needed to get some help.

“Okay, Pop. I love you, man.”

“Love you, too, Marcus,” he said. “Be a good boy.”

Before then, I wasn’t sure about my decision to stay in Houston. I guess I was hesitant because I didn’t want to hurt Pop. But after he gave me his blessing, I felt better about my decision. It was as if he had released me and I was free to make my mother happy for a while. I loved Pop for that; it proved just how unselfish he was, and I was glad that he was my father. The values he instilled in me were the same values that he claimed as his own. He practiced what he preached. My pop was a man of character, and I wanted to be just like him when I grew up.

Indigo

Nana
and I strolled down the Magnificent Mile, sunshine beaming down on our foreheads. We popped our heads into Filene’s Basement to look around a bit, and then stepped into Macy’s so that Nana could pick up a pair of panty hose for church on Sunday. Nana bought me a pair of sandals and a purse at Payless. And then we dropped into Barnes & Noble. We stopped at Gino’s for a pan of Chicago’s deep-dish pizza. At Gino’s the walls and tables were covered with graffiti. Everyone who ate there, no matter where they were from, left their names carved into the wooden tables and on the wall. There were so many names that I couldn’t even read them all. Nana and I sat at a table near the window, and I sipped an ice-cold root beer while we waited for our pizza.

“So how did you enjoy your little outing the other night with Sabrina? Did you girls have a good time at the teen club she took you to?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Teen club? Sabrina had obviously made Nana believe that we were going to a teen club instead of the adult one we actually went to. I didn’t like lying to Nana, and so to avoid the conversation, I changed the subject.

“You think we can take some pizza home for Uncle Keith, Nana?”

“Child, Uncle Keith is a grown man and can take care of himself.” She chuckled. “I don’t know, maybe we will take him a slice or two—if there’s any left.”

“You think he’ll ever find his own place and move out?”

“I can only hope, sweet pea. Don’t look like it’s going to be anytime soon, though.”

“I kinda like the thought of him being there with you…so you don’t have to be alone.”

“I don’t mind being alone. I’ve been alone since the day your grandpa passed away.”

“Do you get scared in the middle of the night sometimes…I mean in that big old house and all?”

“Child, I have lived in that house since your daddy was ten years old. I know every little nook and cranny, and I recognize all the noises. There is nothing in that house that makes me afraid,” she said. “Now back to your little night out with Sabrina. I noticed you tried to avoid talking about it.”

“I wasn’t trying to—”

“Let me tell you something. I love Sabrina to death. I changed her diapers when she was a baby, just like I changed yours. But I don’t necessarily approve of that little lifestyle she got going on over there. Now, she asked me if you could hang out with her the other night, and I want you to have a good time while you’re here, but you won’t be hanging out with her that often. You understand?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“It’s not cute to have a two-year-old child at seventeen. Although I know we all make mistakes. But don’t you go getting all glassy-eyed over somebody else’s life.”

“But, I didn’t say anything about—”

“You didn’t have to say anything, missy. I know you better than you know yourself,” Nana said. “You make sure you stay in school and make good grades…and, Indi, continue to make good choices. You hear me?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“That’s all I’m gonna say about it.”

It was as if Nana had read my mind, because I did think that Sabrina had the perfect life. Even though she had made a mistake by getting pregnant and had disappointed her parents, she still had it going on, in my opinion. At seventeen she had her own apartment and could come and go as she pleased. She hung out with the big people in Chicago and had an older boyfriend—a hot older boyfriend. I’d have said she had more right in her favor than wrong.

When the waitress placed our piping-hot pizza in the center of the table, it was still sizzling. I didn’t waste any time digging a slice out and placing it on my plate. Nana did the same, and we ate until we both were too stuffed to walk another block. Not to mention it had started pouring rain. I pulled my cell phone out and tried to reach Uncle Keith so he could pick us up, but he was nowhere to be found. At the curb, Nana hailed us a Yellow Cab, and we hopped into the backseat and headed home. As the rain trickled down the windshield of the cab, I thought about Sabrina and wondered how I could make my life turn out just like hers.