Saint And Sinners (73 page)

Those are our grandbabies…

Three boys and one girl, faces in various shades of brown. Their feet stomped against
the wooden porch as they emptied out onto the massive front yard, meticulously landscaped
in lush hues of green with pops of brilliant colors from pleasing floral arrangements.
In the middle of the lawn, two bicycles lay on their sides. The sky grabbed the delighted
squeals and sweet laughter from the children’s mouths, tossing it all around like
a soccer ball for all to hear. The music of summer, and the song never got old.

The door opened once again, revealing a strong-featured man, the sight of whom almost
made Saint’s heart stop. Was he looking at himself, way back in time? The man was
a bit darker, hair shorter, with a mustache and slight beard. Wearing a crooked grin,
he exposed gleaming white teeth while he stood tall and proud, a hand on his narrow
hip. The man tossed a tender glance over at him and Xenia.

“Mom, where did you put that beach ball? I was thinking of taking the kids to the
beach before dinner.” His voice boomed like that of some powerful radio announcer.
Deep and throaty, the kind women adored. More importantly, he called the Queen ‘Mom’,
and then it all clicked, came together.

Hassani… That’s my son! My first born!

Saint’s eyes watered as he looked on in amazement. They had a similar build, but Hassani’s
shoulders were even broader and his dark eyes glowed like the full moon in a forest.

“Yes, baby, the ball is in my bedroom by the sitting area.” She pointed towards the
front door. “That’s a good idea, actually, because I got ’em some pails and other
toys, too.” She placed her drink next to her on a nearby glass block table and ran
her hand over her knee, as if trying to soothe an ache. “Tell Dakarai to come out
here, Honey. I need to ask him something.”

Hassani nodded and disappeared inside the house.

“Day-Day! Mama wants you!” he heard Hassani call out.

Saint felt like a bystander in his own dreams. His emotions got too overwhelming to
even utter a word. He’d tried, but he choked on his own dust. The door swung open
abruptly, spitting out two more people that his heart recognized, even though his
eyes still remained confused.

“Dakarai,” Xenia said, alleviating any confusion in Saint’s mind as to who the man
was. “Make sure you get that box I set aside before the end of this visit. You’ll
want those things; they’re great memories for you.”

His second child nodded. “Okay, Mom. Thanks, I won’t forget.”

“Great! At least you’ll remember something for a change!” a woman belted.

Dakarai raised dark, thick brows, just like his father’s, bunched in annoyance as
he stood there, fisting and unfisting his wide hands. Right on his heels appeared
a very attractive light-complexioned woman with full lips, a shimmery green tank top
and a loud voice that almost drowned out the clapping of her thickly-soled brown flip
flops.

“…No need to run like that, Day-Day. I’m sick and tired of this.”

…She sounds like Xenia… Same raspy voice, only a couple octaves higher…

“You aren’t reliable,” the woman snapped. “You just do whateva!” She put her hand
on her hip with intense attitude and shrugged her shoulders. “Life is not one big
party, you know. You play too much.” She crossed her arms.

“Nobody is playin’ but you, Isis. Either that, or you’re hard of hearing.”

“Well, isn’t that ironic coming from the Deaf Mute?!”

“Just shut up, alright! I didn’t tell you that!” Dakarai glared down at her. Built
like a football player with long, black wavy hair, flowing like a cape down his back,
he still stood a couple inches shorter than Hassani, but looked as if he could stop
a train with his body. Dakarai was no longer skinny by a long shot. The boy was all
muscle, with black swirly tattoos all over his exposed skin. His arms like boulders,
he seemed to wear a permanent scowl on his handsome face yet a sense of innocence
emanated from him, all the same.

“You did, too. You said you’d come on over to my new apartment and fix the garbage
disposal.”

“No.” His big golden eyes spit fire. “I said I might come over and fix the garbage
disposal since you said the landlord couldn’t get to it until next week. I never made
any promises. I had to work. I offered to come tomorrow, but just forget it now!”

“You two arguing again?! Now look, I’ve heard enough, goodness!” Xenia chuckled. “That’s
all you two do! Good grief.”

“Mom, Dakarai is not telling the truth, as usual.” The 5’9, petite woman stood there
going toe to toe with the big man, her face almost a spitting image of her mother’s.
Wavy, carefree jet-black hair hung a bit past her shoulders. She rolled her gorgeous
eyes that looked just like her brother’s, the current bane of her existence. “I had
class and had to go to work. I stayed home thinking you were coming over, thanks a
lot! You always do this mess. Let me stand you up, though,” the woman continued, refusing
to stop barking up her brother’s tree.

My daughter grew up to be more beautiful than I could have ever imagined… Oh my goodness,
she got a mouth on her like her Mama though.
Saint smirked.

She couldn’t have been more than twenty-one…

“Nah, that’s not it, Isis. You just think whenever you say ‘Jump’ everybody is supposed
to say, ‘How high?’ That’s why you ain’t got a man…you too damn bossy. Don’t nobody
wanna hear all that shit morning, noon and night!” He moved his hand as if it were
talking, yapping about like a little terrier.

“Dakarai!” Xenia snapped. “Stop it and cut all that cursing out. There are little
kids running around here.”

“Mom, dang! You ain’t tellin’ Isis to stop it!” He pointed angrily at his sister as
he made his point. “Why is it always, ‘Dakarai, stop it?’ She started it!” He looked
daggers at the young woman, who threw him back a smug look.

“Dakarai, I mean it!” Xenia’s voice trembled with frustration. “I don’t want to hear
another word!” Xenia’s eyes turned to slits as she pointed at her son. “This is supposed
to be a nice day…family time. Isis, don’t pay your brother any attention; once again
his temper has gotten the best of him but you stop picking with him. You are to blame,
too.”

Isis’ mouth dropped open, as if she couldn’t believe she was being accused of such
a thing.

“Now look, the both of you can help me with dinner.” Xenia scooted a bit forward,
as if preparing to stand up. “Where’s Jade?”

Saint braced himself, wondering who Jade was.

“I’m right here, Mom!” a woman called out.

Out walked a gorgeous lady with smooth, toasted almond skin, deep dimples and large,
sparkling, honey-brown eyes.

“Honey, your husband is taking the children to the beach. Do they have swimsuits?
I just thought about that and I knew Hassani wouldn’t know.” She chuckled. “Men never
know these things it seems.”

“Mom.” The woman smiled sweetly at her, “Yes, I packed them bathing suits. I don’t
know if Blake has one. Hey, Dakarai, are we taking, Blake, too?”

Dakarai stood on the other side of the porch, a silly smile on his face as he looked
out into the front yard.

Blake…that must be Dakarai’s son…

Saint grinned so hard, his face hurt. The tiniest boy of the bunch trudged about—a
fair skinned boy with dark eyes and bouncing dark brown curls that swayed in his face
as he raced around the terrace, falling a time or two. He looked no more than three.
Saint figured, though he didn’t allow it to soil his mood, that Dakarai got married
very young, or he was a single parent. Either way, he didn’t want to focus on it too
much; he preferred to enjoy all that was right with the world at that special moment…

“Yeah, he can go. He has a pair of swim trunks in his bag.” Dakarai smiled at his
son who frolicked around, happy and free. The same smile Saint had had when his children
were born. The same exact image of perfection and innocence, all combined. The same
sense of pride, like when he watched his own children running around as small children…
Nothing could replace or compare to that sort of joy. Suddenly, he felt his middle
child’s glare on him. The man had paused and turned to him, as if just realizing he
was sitting there.

Isis stood by his side, placing her arm along her brother’s shoulder and leaning on
him playfully as if they hadn’t just been fighting seconds ago. Hassani joined in
the huddle, his arms full of beach fun as he leaned in and kissed his little sister
on the cheek.

“Dad.” Hassani’s deep voice broke through. “You’ve been uncommonly quiet. That’s not
like you at all. By now, we all should have been hugged by you a million times, cussed
out for the sheer hell of it, and then hugged some more.” This caused an uproar of
laughter and nods of agreement. “Are you okay?” His son grinned.

Before Saint could work his jaw muscles to answer, the guy continued on.

“Your retirement home, as you call it, is real nice,” he said, glancing out towards
the yard. “I know you all just moved in and haven’t gotten completely settled for
the summer, but Mom, you did a great job and I saw Dad’s man cave…” Hassani smirked
and shook his head, “…Black bearskin rug, wall to wall fireplace, and some things
I won’t even mention within ear range of the kids. Dad is still a pimp.” This caused
another outpour of laughter at Saint’s expense.

“You will never retire, but I’ll humor you in calling this home whatever you wish.
I like the house; this is perfect for you two.” The man looked around the porch and
inside the open front door, his words followed by more agreeable nods.

“This place is perfect for all of us to escape the New York winters, plus it’s nice
to see the old house we grew up in for the first few years of our lives still here
not too far away from here. Even though Isis doesn’t remember it, and Dakarai only
recalls bits and pieces, I had some of my most special times there.” He looked at
his wife, winked at her, then back towards Saint. “We, uh, drove past it, actually
on our way over here. Made a little detour. I was tempted to knock on the door, try
to find out if our old playroom was still intact!”

Old house? He was in L.A. for the winters, how befitting…

“I’m sure it was tempting. I’m glad you recall a bit of it, Hassani.” Xenia sighed,
as if weary and needing a reprieve. “Your father and I have gotten up in age. We thought
this would be helpful. Yeah, this way, we get the best of both worlds.” Xenia grinned
as she tapped his leg. “Spring, Summer and Fall, we stay in Manhattan just like your
Daddy likes it, and I’ve grown to love it almost as much as he does. But the wintertime?
It’s L.A., baby.” She laughed, swaying as she did, causing her perfume to waft past
his nostrils.

I want to kiss her so badly… Can I kiss her in this dream? If I try, will she disappear
and I wake up? I don’t want to wake up… Just give me another second or two…I need
to say something, to utter a cohesive thought so that, when this memory comes to life,
it will be a real live déjà vu…

Opening his mouth to speak, he strained hard and gripped his wife’s hand as he pulled
vowels and consonants together.

“It’s so nice to have you all here.” His voice sounded a bit foreign, slightly weathered,
reminding him that yes, he was a grandfather now. He’d used it to shout at so many
conferences, to sing off-key, and to whisper beautiful words into his Goddess’ ears,
year after year, after year.

“It’s good to be here, Dad, oh, and the timing is perfect. We are gonna party harder
than hard tonight and before the kids go to bed this evening, they want to see you
dance. They don’t believe you still got it.”

“I still got it! I’ll dance any of these young people under the table!” Saint roared.
“I keep current on all of that shit!”

Everyone burst out laughing.

“I love you so much.” Hassani’s voice cracked as he walked towards him. Before he
knew it, his son was on his knees, gripping his trembling hand. “You’re the best father
I could have ever had, Dad, despite all the gray hairs I gave you. I just pray that
my children see me as half the man that you have always been…” Hassani rested his
head on Saint’s lap. Saint smiled as his eyes watered and his heart twisted with such
love… He ran his hand over his son’s soft, wavy hair.

Home. Sweet. Home.

*

“Ahhh, do me,
baby!” The Humpty Dance played loudly in the hidden, glittery world below the hotel
in Hunts Point. It was as if everyone had been vacuumed into a private burrow and
sucked inside of a mysterious snow globe where sparkly black flakes rained down and
magical powers abounded for all to taste and experience, at least for the evening.
Saint and Lawrence had planned a special birthday party for Jagger and it turned out
to be an epic success. The night was drawing to an end, and at exactly 10:07 P.M.,
Jagger was officially thirty-five years old. He was surrounded by beautiful people,
including Xenia and Traci, and though Saint was biased, he put his bet on Xenia being
the most beautiful of all.