A Love of My Own (30 page)

6
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I was getting ready to grab my gym bag and briefcase, when I heard a knock on my office door.

“Come in,” I said.

Sebastian walked in with a smile and a masculine bounce I was getting used to.

“Yo, Raymond, are you ready to work out?” he asked.

“What are you doing here, dude? I thought I was going to meet you at the gym,” I said.

“Yeah, I know, but I was in the neighborhood. I have a client over at MTV who I train in her office. We need to look at getting a setup for you like that. Since you got a shower and all, we could just get some weights and do our thang here. It's something to think about when winter gets here,” Sebastian said.

“I'll look into that. It would sure save me some time,” I said.

“So, you ready?” Sebastian asked.

“Yeah, I'll be ready in a few. Was there someone sitting out in the reception area?”

“Naw, that's why I knocked on the door.”

I looked at the clock and it was fifteen minutes past five. I had told Jolie that I needed her to stay until at least six every day. I shook my head and went back and sat at my desk to make a note to talk with Personnel again about getting a qualified assistant. Just as I was finishing the note, Davis walked into my office.

“Raymond, I'm glad you're still here. I've got an exciting project I want you to get started on. Bristol has the magazine under control, and I want to make some moves with my radio business before Kathy Hughes buys up every station in the country,” Davis said.

“Sure. When do you want to talk about it?”

“How does your schedule look tomorrow?” Davis asked.

I was looking at my calendar when I heard Sebastian clear his throat. I realized that both Davis and I were ignoring Sebastian.

“Davis, this is my personal trainer and a good friend of my younger brother,” I said.

Davis looked toward Sebastian and then back at me without speaking or acknowledging Sebastian's presence. I had seen Davis be rude, but I didn't understand this.

“Check your calendar and get back with me first thing in the morning. This project will take your mind off
Bling Bling
and Zola,” Davis said as he started walking toward the door.

When he was a few feet from the door, Sebastian yelled at the top of his lungs, “Yo, li'l short mutherfucker. You think you so bad you can just ignore a brotha? Man, I don't give a shit how much money you got. You need to show some respect to another black man in your company.”

I looked at Sebastian like he was having an emotional meltdown in real time, but he didn't look my way. Davis turned around. His face was cold and angry, and he said, “Are you talking to me?”

“You the only rude mutherfucker in this office, so I gots to be talkin' to you, shorty,” Sebastian said. His chest was sticking out like he was about to drop Davis to floor.

“Sebastian, I think you should head to the gym. I'll meet you there,” I said.

“Naw, I came here to walk with you, and I'm not leaving until this asshole apologizes to me.”

“Raymond, call Security,” Davis ordered.

“Davis and Sebastian, come on, guys. Let's work this out,” I said.

“If you don't call them, then I will,” Davis said as he walked toward the end of my desk, where my phone sat.

“Sebastian, leave,” I said firmly.

“Don't worry, Raymond. I'll take care of this young punk,” Davis said.

“Like you took care of Scooter?” Sebastian asked.

Davis had picked up the phone, but he turned and faced Sebastian. “What did you say?”

“You heard me. Do you ever think about Scooter?”

“Who are you?” Davis asked as his eyes widened.

“You don't need to know who I am. I know who you are, and it ain't no Davis McClinton. I'm ashamed you're a McClinton, but you're one in name only,” Sebastian said. His voice was scornful and impatient, and there was an eerie sound of embarrassment hanging in the air as Sebastian and Davis stared at each other as if they were professional fighters.

“Who are you?” Davis repeated as he moved closer to Sebastian. He was looking into Sebastian's eyes to see where his anger was coming from.

“Don't pull up on me, 'cause I will drop you,” Sebastian said.

“How do you know about Scooter?”

“He's my uncle, and because of you I never knew him,” Sebastian said.

“Who sent you here?”

“Ain't nobody sent me here. I came here on my own. I'm my own man. I just wanted to look into the eyes of a man who's frontin' to the world like he's all that and you ain't shit. Any man who would desert his family ain't nothing but a lying piece of shit. I'm glad you changed your fuckin' name. And for the record, Grandma and Papa know it's you that's been sending money to the house, but they don't want it. When you stopped sending those checks and started sending cash, they would just take it down to the church,” Sebastian said as he continued with his one-sided conversation.

Davis looked like he was cornered, and I didn't know what to do, so I tilted my chair toward Sebastian and said, “Sebastian, I know you're upset, but I think we need to take this somewhere else.”

“I done said my piece. I said it for Scooter, Grandma, Papa, Clinton, Adriana, Brenda, and my mother, Gail. You remember her, don't you?”

“Raymond, did you have something to do with this?” Davis asked as he looked at me. There was both fear and sadness in his eyes.

“Davis, I don't know what either one of you is talking about,” I said.

“Get him out of here and make sure he doesn't set foot in the building again, or else I will have him arrested. Do you understand me?”

“I do. Sebastian, let's go,” I said as I grabbed my jacket and briefcase. I left my gym bag because I had a feeling that after this Sebastian wasn't going to be in the mood to work out.

Davis headed toward the door and then turned back toward me. Sebastian was standing so close to me I could feel the heat from his body, and I swear I could hear his heartbeat.

“Raymond, I think we should talk about your future employment with McClinton Enterprises. I can't believe you have brought this kind of backwoods trash into my environment.”

“If I'm backwoods trash, then I'm proud of it, but I'll make sure the whole world—” Davis stormed out of the office as Sebastian's voice became louder. “The whole world will know about fake-ass Davis McClinton. The whole fucking world,” Sebastian shouted as he pointed his two fingers toward Davis.

Sebastian and I walked through the maze of New York City, block after block, in silence. The evening wind was cool, blowing leaves and particles of trash in circles. I didn't know what Sebastian was thinking or what he was going to reveal about the chinks in Davis McClinton's powerful armor.

When we reached my apartment, the sun had dipped down and drenched the neighborhood in an apricot light. We walked through the lobby and onto the elevator in a silence that felt insulated by snowdrifts.

Once inside my apartment, Sebastian took off his jacket and plopped onto my sofa with a disgusted look on his face.

“Do you want something to drink?” I asked.

“You got any brew?” Sebastian asked.

“I'm pretty sure I do,” I said as I went into the kitchen. The quiet was starting to bother me, and I thought about turning on the CD player or the television. But I wanted to be ready in case Sebastian decided to talk.

I took the beer and set it on the table in front of Sebastian. He drank almost half of it with one swallow. I sat next to Sebastian with a glass of wine, and just when I was getting ready to ask him if he wanted to talk, he posed a question.

“Is there anything Kirby could do that would make you disown him?”

I gazed at Sebastian for a moment and said, “No. I love Kirby unconditionally. He's my brother, my blood.”

“Then tell me how a person can turn his back on his entire family. I mean, to go so far as to change his name,” Sebastian said.

“Davis changed his name?”

“Yes. Grandma and Papa didn't name him Davis,” Sebastian said calmly.

“What did they name him?”

“Norman.”

“What happened? When did he leave the family?”

Sebastian finished his beer and then started to speak slowly, like his words were treasured drugs that could cure cancer.

“I've heard the stories from my mother. I pieced a little of it together. My family were sharecroppers on a peanut farm in Bainbridge, Georgia,” Sebastian said.

I immediately thought about Davis and how he was adamant about me not offering my former student Sasha a job. Did he know Sasha or her family?

“My grandmother and Papa had four children who all worked on the farm, picking peanuts. Norman was the baby of the family, and he had two sisters, one of whom is my mother, and a brother, Jarvis, who was a year older. From what I've heard, Jarvis and Norman were very competitive, not only in picking peanuts but with their schoolwork and sports,” Sebastian said.

For more than an hour Sebastian shared his family history with me. He told me how Davis's older brother was given a full scholarship to a New England prep school but didn't want to take it because he wanted to stay with his family. After his father and mother convinced him it was the right thing to do, everything was set.

Sebastian told me he thought Davis aka Norman was upset that he didn't get the scholarship and that he didn't like being the son of a sharecropper. About a month before Jarvis was supposed to leave, there was a terrible accident when Davis challenged his brother to a race across the dangerous Flint River. Never one to resist a dare, Jarvis accepted, even though Sebastian said his mother had told him Davis was the better swimmer of the two.

“What happened?” I asked when Sebastian paused. The intensity in his eyes had softened a little and he was carefully trying to control his voice.

“My uncle Jarvis drowned while Norman safely swam to the other side. I heard he didn't even try to save Uncle Jarvis.”

“Are you sure?”

“Sure about what?”

“That Davis didn't try to help his brother?” I asked.

“I wasn't there, but that's what my mother told me,” Sebastian said.

“What did your grandparents say?”

“They never talk about it. That stupid dare cost them two sons.”

“Did Davis run away from home?”

“No. After my uncle died, Norman was given the scholarship to prep school, and he never, at least to my knowledge, returned to Bainbridge,” Sebastian said.

“Didn't anyone from your family try to reach him?”

“Yes. My grandparents actually drove up to Rhode Island for his prep school graduation. That was the last time they saw him, and he was still Norman. They lost track of him when he went to college. He told my grandparents he was coming home for college,” Sebastian said.

“Man, this sounds like a movie,” I said.

“A real bad movie. My grandparents were heartbroken when they couldn't locate him through his prep school, and all the letters were returned. I think the fact that they lost one son and have another who doesn't want to have anything to do with them has been painful. When I was around ten, my grandparents, who had moved to Pensacola, Florida, started getting these checks, and when they didn't cash them, they used to get Federal Express packages with just cash in them.”

“The money was from Davis?”

“Oh, yeah, it was from that sick asshole,” Sebastian said confidently.

“How do you know?”

“When I got older and after a couple of years of college, I got tired of seeing the look on my grandparents' faces when my uncle Jarvis's birthday rolled around, so I started doing some investigating on my own. I took some of the money I got with my signing bonus and hired a private investigator. It took some time, but the P.I. finally turned up some information I could use. That's how I found out Davis McClinton was really my uncle Norman.”

“Does your mother know that you've found him?” I asked. I wondered if there was more to the story and why a man like Davis would disown what sounded like a proud, hardworking family. It made his success seem even more impressive since it hadn't been handed to him from a wealthy and influential family.

“No, I haven't told anybody what I was up to. I really just wanted to talk to him and get his side of the story. But today, when he acted like I wasn't there, like my physical presence meant nothing to him, I just snapped. I can't tell you how bad I wanted to kick his ass for what he's done to my family.”

“Are you going to the media?”

“Do you think I should?”

“Sebastian, only you can make that decision,” I said. “But I think you should hear Davis's side of the story.”

“He'd probably have me arrested if I went back to his office. Besides, I know what kind of people my mama and grandparents are, and they wouldn't lie,” Sebastian said.