Player Haters (23 page)

“Yeah, a cyclone named Indigo,” I replied sadly.

“Indigo did this?” Wil looked surprised.

“Yeah, and a whole lot worse.” I handed him the letter.

I know I was supposed to be a man but I couldn’t help it. Having my sister and brother around brought down emotional barriers that I couldn’t control. I broke down and started to cry for the first time in ten years.

“What is it, Trent? What’s the matter?” Melanie came over and wrapped her arms around me, which only made things even worse. The tears flowed even stronger. I felt like a little kid in my sister’s arms.

“I didn’t mean it, Mel. I swear I didn’t mean it. I was just trying to get paid. I didn’t want her to die.” I continued to sob.

“What are you talking about, Trent?”

“She tried to kill herself, Mel. She tried to kill herself because of me.” I sniffed.

“Who? Who tried to kill herself? What are you talking about?”

“Indigo,” Wil answered for me. His voice was stern, almost a little accusatory. “She found out Trent was a phony and took some pills. Here, read this.” He shoved the letter toward Melanie. I buried my head into my sister’s shoulder in shame.

The phone rang and Wil walked over to answer it. When he hung up I could tell it wasn’t good news.

“That was the hospital. Indigo’s in bad shape, but it looks like she’s gonna live.”

I sat up and wiped my tears away. “Thank you, God.”

“Don’t be thanking Him unless you gonna change,” Wil said angrily. “Just because she’s not dead doesn’t mean you didn’t almost push her there. You’re my brother, Trent, but you’re not a very nice person. You don’t even take care of your own damn kid the way you’re supposed to. I’m glad Daddy’s not here to see this.”

“Wil, maybe this isn’t the time,” Melanie started to say.

“No, Mel.” I cut her off. “He’s right. I’m not a very nice person and Dad’s probably rolling over in his grave right about now. I do have to change.”

“So what you gonna do? How you gonna change?” Wil challenged me.

“First thing I gotta do is get a job. Then I gotta go talk Michelle into letting me spend some time with my son. She might not want me, but that little boy needs me and right now I need him.”

Wil thought about what I’d said for a minute, then said, “It goes against my better judgment, but I can help you with the job. We’ve got an opening in sales. It’s entry level, but with all the game you got, you’ll probably make a million dollars in commission.” His voice softened a bit and he almost smiled at me.

“Thanks, Wil,” I told him sincerely. “I won’t let you down.”

“You damn right you won’t. I’m not gonna give you that chance. Now go take a shower and get your ass over to the hospital and see that girl.”

I’d gone by the hospital to see Indigo, but her people wouldn’t let me near her. It seems she called her mom and told her about me before she commenced to tearing my apartment to shreds. I stopped one of the doctors on the way into her room, and he told me it looked like she would probably make it, so at least I could leave with that much peace. I left and drove to Michelle’s. Only I didn’t have the courage to knock on the door when I saw her mother’s car in the driveway. I’d had a pretty bad day as it was. I didn’t need a frying pan upside my head to make it worse. Luckily, a cab pulled up a few minutes later and Michelle got out of it.

“Michelle,” I called. She turned in my direction.

“Trent? What the fuck are you doing parked outside my house? I told you to leave me alone. Don’t make me get an order of protection.”

“Look, I didn’t come here to fight. I came to apologize. I just wanna talk to you. I wanna see my son.”

“Son? You don’t have any kids, do you?” She scratched her head. “Isn’t that what you told your fiancée?”

“Stop playing, Michelle. I’m trying to apologize. I’m sorry.”

“You’re right. You are sorry. A sorry excuse for a man.” She turned and started walking toward the house.

“Michelle! I just wanna know what it’s gonna take for me to see my son again.”

She turned back around.

“You wanna know what it’ll take? I’ll tell you what it’ll take. But I’m sure you’ll never agree to it…” She came across the street and got in my car.

“Hurry up, Wil,” Diane yelled excitedly as I walked into the room. She was sprawled out in the heart-shaped Jacuzzi, surrounded by bubbles, waiting for our favorite show to come on the television. I’d just gotten back from taking a dip in the pool and had lost track of time. I hurried to get my trunks off, then slid into the water next to my wife. I kissed her and my hands roamed her body as we made out like teenagers. It was our tenth wedding anniversary and we were spending it in the beautiful Pocono Mountains at the Caesars Pocono Resort. After a rather painful few weeks after the fibroid embolization, Diane was back to her old horny self and I couldn’t have been happier. With everything that happened with Mimi, Diane and I had been working on our marriage even harder than before. We’d both promised that nothing would ever come between us again.

“Relax, baby.” She pushed me away gently. “The show’s coming on. I’m not going anywhere. I’m gonna take care of you right after I see your brother make a fool outta himself on national TV.” She laughed as we both turned toward the TV. I picked up the remote and turned the station to BET.

“You sure you got the right station? You know the channels are different up here in Pennsylvania,” she snapped playfully, leaning her head on my shoulder.

“I know how to get BET,” I told her with mock insult.

“So what do you think? Do you think he’s gonna go through with it?”

“If he wants to see Marcus he will. Michelle seemed kinda adamant about that. The question is, is he gonna be the player or be played?”

“I’m betting on played. Your brother’s not too bright. And you know that Sylvester Harrington, he always got some twist on his show.”

“Trent’s smarter than you think, Di. And he really wants this thing with Michelle to work. That’s all he’s been talking about at work.”

“Yeah, but has he really changed? This could all be a front to get Michelle back in his life.”

“It could be, but I don’t think so. I think he’s going on this show to make a point.”

“What kind of point?”

“Shhhh, it’s coming on. We’ll talk about it after the show,” I said as the camera focused in on Sylvester Harrington, the host of
Two Sides To A Story.

“Welcome, ladies and gentlemen. My name’s Sylvester Harrington and this is
Two Sides To A Story.
Our first guest tonight is Michelle. Michelle’s been dating Trent off and on for almost ten years. Matter of fact, last year she was pregnant, and Trent walked out of the delivery room on her because he said the baby was too dark to be his.” The studio audience let out a collective sigh as the host turned toward Michelle.

“Welcome to the show, Michelle.”

“Thanks for having me, Sylvester.” Michelle smiled.

“Michelle, this Trent sounds like a
real
piece of work.” The camera panned in on a picture of Trent sitting in the green room, then back to Michelle.

“You don’t know the half of it, Sylvester. Trent is a cheating, lying dog. Not only did he walk out the delivery room, but about two months ago he came crawling back to me with a wedding ring.”

“Oh, really?” Sylvester smiled for the crowd. “So did you accept his proposal?”

“Yeah.” Michelle nodded, her face revealing her embarrassment. “I accepted it until I found out he was engaged to another woman.”

Now the audience was really enraged. There were people booing and hollering about what a dog Trent was. A few of them were yelling at Michelle for being so stupid.

“What about your son? Trent’s saying that you’re not letting him or his family see the baby. Is that true?”

“You damn right it’s true. You not gonna treat my baby like a yo-yo.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“He told his other fiancée right in front of my face that my son was not his child. And I told him, if he’s not your child, then tell your family not to come see him. And I meant that.” A few people in the audience shouted their approval.

“So let me get this straight. You’re mad because Trent keeps denying your son?”

“Yeah. He denies Marcus whenever it’s convenient for him.”

“Well I hear you, sister, ’cause I was out back and I saw your son. He does look just like Trent.”

Pictures of both Marcus and Trent came on the screen, and you could tell by the audience’s reaction that they felt the same way as the host.

“Well, Michelle, as you know, the name of our show is
Two Sides To A Story, s
o we’re gonna have to bring out Trent and hear what he has to say. Ladies and gentlemen, welcome Trent to the show.” Before Trent even walked out on the stage the crowd was on their feet, booing loudly.

“Trent, welcome to the show.”

“Thanks,” Trent said timidly. Clearly the audience’s reaction had him shook. He wasn’t used to this kind of treatment from people.

“I’ve been hearing some bad things about you, Trent.” Sylvester smiled as he leaned in closer to Trent.

“Well, don’t believe everything you hear,” Trent snapped back sarcastically. “By the way, sending that beautiful woman to my room last night was a great touch. I hope your producers weren’t too disappointed when I sent her home.”

Sylvester did his best to hide his embarrassment as his eyes quickly shot toward the producer. The audience laughed.

“Well, enough about the producers. Michelle here tells me that you like to envision yourself as a player.”

“I think reformed player is probably the best way to describe it. I’m trying to be a family man now. That is, if I can get Michelle to let me see my son.”

“So you wanna see your son? I was under the impression that you don’t think he’s yours. Michelle claims that you walked out of the delivery room because he was too dark.”

“I did. And it was probably the most ignorant thing I’ve ever done in my life.” My brother actually sounded sincere. Then again, he’d sounded just as sincere whenever he was handing out his phony business cards.

“Well, if you know it was ignorant, why are you here?”

“Because Michelle doesn’t believe me. She still thinks I’m the ignorant person I was. But I’ve changed. I got a new job. I wanna be in my son’s life and I don’t want there to be any question about that.”

“So you’re willing to pay child support and everything?”

“No doubt. I wanna be a father to my child. I love Marcus. He’s the only thing I got left.”

“What do you have to say about that, Michelle?”

“Talk is cheap. He could say that today and tomorrow he’ll get mad at me and take it out on my baby, start telling people he don’t even know my son. I want him to take a paternity test. I want him to have undeniable proof that this is his son, and then I want him to take responsibility for his son.”

“Well, as you know, Trent didn’t have a problem with that, Michelle. The only thing he asked is that you give him a chance to be a father. Are you willing to do that?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I have the paternity results right here. Anything either of you wanna say before I reveal them?”

“Yeah, I got something I wanna say,” Trent cut in as he turned to Michelle. “First off, I wanna say, Michelle, I love you, and I wanna apologize for all the BS I’ve put you through over the years. You’re a good woman and I’m sorry you had to go through this. I also wanna thank you for having my son and being such a good mother. He doesn’t even have to open that envelope. I know Marcus is my son and I love you for that.” Trent had done it again. He’d charmed the audience over to his side, and now they were applauding his words. Even the host looked like he was rooting for Trent now. Michelle was smiling at Trent.

“Well, from the looks of it, y’all are gonna live happily ever after,” Sylvester said. “I guess you don’t need me to read the results, do you?” His words were a tease for the audience, who started shouting, “Read the results! Read the results!” just like you would expect a talk show audience to do. After all, those people didn’t really care about my brother and Michelle. They were just looking to be entertained.

“No, Sylvester, things might look good right now, but I know Trent,” Michelle said. “I still need those results in case the ‘new Trent’ decides to go back to his old ways when the camera is off.”

She looked at Trent, who looked a little disappointed that his speech hadn’t been enough to win her over completely. “Trent, I do love you, but I still gotta do this. It’s like insurance for Marcus, you know?”

Trent looked away from her, but kept his cool. His face didn’t reveal any emotions. “That’s cool, Michelle. I’m gonna do whatever it takes.”

“Okay,” said Sylvester as the audience cheered and chanted. “It’s time to read the results.” He pulled a paper out of the envelope he’d been holding. Trent looked at Michelle and reached for her hand. She held his hand and they both actually looked pretty happy.

“Trent, you are one hundred percent
not
the father of Michelle’s baby,” Sylvester announced. There was a collective gasp from the audience. The camera zoomed in on Trent who was grimacing like
he
was about to give birth.

“What?” Trent yelled.

He snatched the results out of Sylvester’s hand. By the time he read them and turned to Michelle, she was halfway to backstage.

“Did you see his face, Wil?” Diane asked with a laugh.

“Yep, I sure did,” I replied. “I’d say that’s the face of a player reborn.”

The following is a sample chapter from
Carl Weber’s novel
THE PREACHER’S SON.

This book is available
wherever books are sold.

ENJOY!

Blue Johnson’s metallic blue Jeep Cherokee rolled south down Merrick Boulevard. The windows were down and the radio was blasting 50 Cent’s “
21 Questions
.” The bass was so loud that not only could nearby pedestrians hear the music, they could feel it, too. It was the first eighty-plus-degree day of the year and Blue and his best friend, Dante Wilson, rocked their heads to the music as they flirted with one pretty woman after another. When the car stopped at a traffic light, Dante winked at the beautiful twenty-something-year-old woman who’d pulled up next to them in a red Honda Civic. She winked back with a smile and Dante nodded, his face now flush with color as he turned toward Blue. He was the shyer of the two, but not by much.

“Yo, check out baby over here in the Civic,” he yelled as he turned back in her direction, smiling like he was in a toothpaste commercial. He’d decided to impress Blue with his pickup skills. “What’s up, baby girl? Can a brotha get them digi…” He stopped himself abruptly and Blue fell out laughing. Dante hadn’t seen quite what he was expecting. Oh, there was a woman there all right, but it wasn’t the fine sister he’d been flirting with. She had made a right on red and was halfway around the corner. In the place of her car was a black Lincoln Continental. The driver was a dark-skinned, heavyset woman in her late fifties, wearing an expensive but ugly blond wig. Dante knew her quite well, and by the scowl on her face it was clear she didn’t appreciate his comment, their music or Blue’s laughter in the background. Her name was Deaconess Lillian Wright, better known to Dante as The Bitch. She was one of his mother’s closest friends along with being one of his father’s church’s biggest supporters.

“How you doing, Deaconess?” Dante raised his hand as he smiled meekly. He turned back toward Blue, who’d stopped laughing and was back to rocking his head to the music.

“Blue, turn the radio down,” Dante said through gritted teeth.

“What?” Blue shouted, wondering why Dante was whispering.

“I said turn the motherfuckin’ radio down!” Dante yelled this time. He reached for the volume knob, doing it himself. He turned back to Deaconess Wright, who was already punching buttons on her cell phone. Dante knew that could only mean trouble. Especially when he heard her speaking into the phone about something that sounded suspiciously like, “Oh yes, he’s drunk. I’m sure of it.”

The light turned green but before Blue could hit the accelerator, Deaconess Wright swerved out of the right turn lane and into his, speeding down Merrick Boulevard.

“Aw, shit.” Dante slammed his hand on the dashboard. “Man, I bet that bitch is headed straight to the church to see my momma.”

“So what?” Blue shrugged.

“So what? Do you realize how much trouble I’m gonna get into?” Dante’s face showed his concern.

“Trouble for what?” Blue sighed, rolling his eyes at his friend. “How old are you, Dante?”

“Man, you know how old I am.” Dante snapped with attitude. “Twenty-one. Same age as you.”

“Okay, so you’re old enough to drink in this state and buy cigarettes, right?” Blue asked sarcastically.

“Yeah, what’s the point, Blue?”

“The point is…” Blue took his eyes off the road and glared at Dante. “Why the fuck are you so worried about some old church biddy with droopy titties calling your mother? You a grown man. What your moms gonna do, give you a beatin’?”

“Look, Blue, I been trying to explain this to you for years. Everything that my sister and I do is a reflection on my parents, and a reflection on the church. My pops is Bishop T.K. Wilson, for crying out loud. He’s one of the most powerful pastors in the city, possibly even the state.”

“And? What’s that supposed to mean? You know I like the Bishop, Dante, but he ain’t God. He’s just a man. He likes pussy just like the rest of us heathens, otherwise you wouldn’t be here.”

Dante couldn’t help it. He let out a frustrated laugh. Blue had a way with words that was always colorful if not true.

“You don’t understand how hard it is being the Bishop’s son, Blue. That old bitch, Deaconess Wright, has had it in for me ever since her homely ass daughter Mary married Reverend Reynolds. She seems to think I’m the only thing standing in the way of her son-in-law becoming the next pastor when the Bishop retires.”

“Yeah, and she’s right. You are the only one in his way.”

“But I don’t wanna be—”

Blue cut him off. “Don’t even start that shit, Dante. Not unless you’re willing to tell your peoples the truth.”

“I can’t tell them the truth. Not yet anyway. My momma wants me to be the pastor one day, and so does the Bishop. I can’t let them down.”

“Let them down! What about letting yourself down, Dante? You got a chance to intern at Aggressive Records under Black Barron himself.” Blue’s face looked pained at the thought of Dante passing up that opportunity. “Man, you need to stand up to your parents. Shit, man, you don’t even wanna be a minister. How you gonna be a pastor?”

Dante shrugged his shoulders but remained silent. They’d had this conversation a hundred times before, and the result was always the same. Dante agreed with Blue, but he never actually had the nerve to confront his parents about his true aspirations. Blue turned his attention back to the road, but not before he turned up the volume again.

A few minutes later Blue pulled his truck in front of the church and smiled at Dante as he stuck out his fist. Dante tapped Blue’s fist, stepped out of the truck and stretched. At an even six-feet, three-inches tall, Dante was a well-built man with a basketball player’s body and smooth, handsome, almond-colored features. His friend Blue, not an inch over five-eight, was also well built, and considerably darker. His real name was Neal, but Dante couldn’t remember anyone other than a few teachers calling him anything but Blue since they’d met. He and Dante had been best friends since the sixth grade, and against Dante’s mother’s better wishes, they had just gone apartment hunting together.

“I’ll check you later. You gonna be up there by Manhattan Proper tonight?”

“Probably. Yo, you sure you don’t wanna come in? The women’s choir rehearsal’s about to get out and you know they gonna have some food and some good-looking honeys downstairs.”

Blue glanced over at Deaconess Wright’s Lincoln Continental and Dante’s mother’s champagne Mercedes-Benz parked in the church’s parking lot. Dante’s offer was tempting. Not only was Blue hungry, he loved messing with them church girls. Still, he really wasn’t up for any drama. And with First Lady Wilson around and Deaconess Wright there, there was sure to be some drama. If things went as they usually did, Blue would be the one who ended up getting blamed for it, too.

Blue pointed at the two cars. “I think I’ll pass, bro. It looks like you about to have some drama with your momma. Ain’t no need for me to stick around. I’ll just make things worse for you.”

“Chicken. What, are you scared of my mother?” Dante teased.

“Pretty much,” Blue replied.

“I thought you said I should stand up to her.”

“I said you should stand up to her. You’re her son. Me, I’m gonna carry my ass on home where it’s safe. Only time your moms wants to see me is on Sunday and that’s only if I’m putting something into the collection plate.”

Dante chuckled. “You know she loves you, Blue.”

“Yeah, like a snake likes a rat. Did you forget what she did last Saturday? She got on the mike at the church bazaar and told everyone who’d listen to hold on to their daughters ’cause Satan just walked in. Them people started staring at me like I had horns and shit. Now, I’ve been called a lot of things, Dante, but to have the first lady of the church call you the Devil has got to be the worst.”

Dante lowered his head. He had to laugh at his mother’s antics. Despite her actions, she really didn’t dislike his friend. She just loved her son and didn’t wanna admit that he was human and could make mistakes. It was easier for her to make Blue the scapegoat for any of Dante’s missteps. “She didn’t mean anything by it, Blue.”

Blue rolled his eyes. “Dante, face it, man. Your mom doesn’t like me. She never has. She thinks I’m a bad influence on you.”

“Yeah. Little does she know I’m probably a worse influence on you than you are on me.” They both laughed as Dante closed the Jeep’s door and headed for the side entrance to the church. When he entered the building he was greeted by the loud cackling of women gossiping, then a sudden silence. Dante smiled as he approached the thirty or so women of the First Jamaica Baptist’s award-winning women’s choir standing in the church recreation area.

“Hi, Dante.” One woman smiled.

“What’s up, Latrice?” he replied with a nod. That started a chain reaction of hi’s, hellos, shy waves and blushing if he happened to make eye contact. The women seemed to part like the Red Sea to allow Dante to pass through and enter the hallway to his office. He could feel their eyes still on him as he passed. He thought he even heard a few sighs.

Dante had been given this type of attention from the young women of the church for years, and it seemed like most of their mothers encouraged it. As the son of the Bishop, he was treated like royalty, the crown prince of the church. Like all princes, every young woman in the village wanted to be his princess. For years Dante had taken advantage of that, fooling around with half of the women in the congregation who were younger than twenty-five.

Dante walked into his office and closed the door. He sat behind his desk and listened to the women of the choir leaving. He checked over the schedule for the youth basketball league, which he ran as director of the church’s children’s activities. Not long after he sat down, there was a knock on the door. A knock he’d been expecting ever since he and Blue pulled in front of the building. He got up and walked toward the door, but there was no need. The door opened before he could get there.

Dante stopped dead in his tracks when he realized it was not his mother, as he had expected. It was the vibrant and sexy Anita Bell, the only woman he’d ever loved, or at least thought he loved.

“Anita,” he gasped as his eyes quickly roamed her body. Anita was dressed in a very conservative white church dress with white heels, but her voluptuous body made anything she wore look provocative. One of the things Dante had loved about her was that she knew how to use that body like no one he’d ever met.

“Dante,” she said, smiling. “I guess some things never change.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dante was truly confused until Anita pointed at his crotch. Dante looked down and blushed. When it came to Anita, it was obvious which one of his heads was in control. Dante took the folder he was holding and tried to hide his swollen manhood.

“Don’t hide it now. I’ve already seen it.” She smirked, reaching behind her and locking the door then stepping closer to him. She kissed his full lips. “I missed you, Dante,” she whispered.

She kissed him again before he could respond. This time she wrapped her arms around him and he did the same. Their kiss was so passionate it took his breath away. When it was finally over, they stayed wrapped in each other’s arms and stared lustfully into each other’s eyes.

“God, I missed you, Dante,” she whispered as her right hand moved from his backside to his crotch.

“I missed you, too,” he said as he gently pushed her away. “Just not enough to commit adultery. Where’s your husband?”

Anita took a step forward and looked up at him with a frown. “Why’d you have to mention him?”

“I don’t know,” he said sarcastically. “It seemed kind of important when I realized you were unzipping my fly.” Anita sighed. “So where is he, Anita? Where’s your husband?”

“He’s at our new house in Hollis, unpacking our things. But you don’t have to worry about that. Only thing you need to be worried about is what’s in front of you. I want you, Dante. And I’ve missed you. I’ve been thinking about you every day since I left.”

He glanced at her and his mind went down memory lane. He and Anita had been going together since he was nineteen, although very few people other than Blue and his sister knew about it. They’d kept things on the low because Anita was his father’s secretary and ten years his senior. The age difference didn’t bother Dante, though. As far as he was concerned, he was going to marry Anita. But she knew better. She knew that his mother and father were never gonna go for that. That’s why she started secretly dating Deacon Robert Emerson. Deacon Emerson was an arm amputee in his early forties. He was well known around the church and had considerable assets. He’d been trying to get Anita to date him since she’d started working at the church. For almost four years she’d told him no, but one day she smiled and agreed to go out with him. Three months later, much to Dante’s chagrin, they were married and moved to Florida at Anita’s request. She knew she needed to get as far away from the temptation of Dante as possible. She may have denied it, but she was in love with him. Now after eight months Anita and the Deacon were back, and since she had mentioned a new house, it appeared they were back to stay.

“I’m back, Dante. And once I ask your father to give me my old job back we can get right back to doing everything the way we did before. And I mean everything.” She posed flirtatiously and gave him this sexy look that made his rock hard penis even harder.

“What about your husband?”

“What about him? We kept your parents in the dark for almost three years. What makes you think we can’t keep him in the dark too?” She stepped closer to him, rubbing his chest the way she knew he liked it. “I need you, Dante. He can’t satisfy me. I haven’t had an orgasm since I was with you.” She frowned pitifully, like a child who was being punished.

Dante thought about how easy it was for him to make her climax. He knew her body better than he knew his own. He ran his finger down her spine, and she shuddered with excitement. He lowered his head and blew in her ear. Anita moaned out loud. How could the Deacon not be able to do that? he wondered, then smiled at his own ego. Anita was his pussy. She had always been his pussy. He looked at her. He looked at her in the manner a man reserves only for his woman. Oh, those feelings were starting to come back. But instead of making him want her, they made him angry. He pushed her away.