Saint's Sacrament - Sins of the Father (39 page)

Jagger
pierced him with a light blue gaze. Curiosity glimmered within.

“Why are you blocking, suddenly? What’s going on, man?” Jagger leaned over the desk
, clasping his hands together, his perfectly ironed and starched white shirt clean as a whistle.

“Jagger, this is kind of embarrassing. I didn’t mean to block, I did it subconsciously I suppose but I’m going there to try to heal
him and I need…I need…” He couldn’t even get the words to come out of his mouth. They were too emasculating, too insulting to his own ears.

“
…Someone to intervene in case things get all crazy.”

He looked at
Jagger and felt the heat simmer behind his irises. He wasn’t one hundred percent certain, but he was pretty sure the bastard was smirking.

Jagger, not right now, please
. I will dust this floor with your ass if you say one off- putting comment.

Saint recoiled in the seat, looking away, forcing his glowing orange eyes to return to their original light honey color.

“I’m sorry Mr. Aknaten is sick. What seems to be the problem?” Genuine concern marked Jagger’s tone.

“Ulcers, bad ones.” Saint lowered his head and looked down at his shiny, dark brown shoes. “He now has a hole in his stomach, and it is causing some problems. They want to do surgery. I have bad feelings about that, man. I want a try at him first. I want to take a crack at this, see if I can get it straight.”

“He actually gave you permission?” Jagger looked at Saint in disbelief.

Saint shrugged and leaned back in the chair
. “That’s the thing. Yes, he gave me permission under the condition that I bring you along. You don’t have to get into it with me, he already told me all the shit that can happen if I’m not careful.” He leaned far to the right and slumped, running a palm over his face as he closed his eyes, disappearing within himself.

“Saint, I’m here for you. I’ll be there. My job is to help defend the organization strategically, as well as help defend and protect you.
You don’t have a bodyguard any more, and you need one now more than ever. I’m that guy when it suits you. And since you do like to go it alone so often, you needed your own skills pumped up. That was the whole reason for the fight training but more importantly, I’m your friend… If you’re hurting and upset, so am I. But, you can count on me.”

Saint kept his eyes closed
and his hand on his face, but smiled at Jagger’s words.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Great meeting yesterday, by the way,” Jagger commented as Saint lowered his arm and watched him organize items on his desk. “I think a special task force in Florida is perfect. There has obviously been a spike in racial crimes there according to their news reports.” Jagger shook his head in disgust.

“Yup,” Saint said wearily. “They need some serious help. The police aren’t addressing things as they should.”

“Like the whole Trayvon Martin case. It still boggles my mind people are saying that was justifiable homicide. I don’t understand this world we live in sometimes.” Jagger’s tone shook with anger.

“I know, but think about all the people that were killed in
a similar fashion, and no one said anything? Think about how it didn’t even make the news…just another black kid dead because someone found them suspicious. It’s sickening man, and Xenia brought up a good point when we were discussing this a while back. She said if people reacted this upset when a black person killed another black person, the homicide rate would drop in half in an instant. We as human beings have to be upset about it all! Not just when someone from the outside steps in and does wrong.” Saint rose to his feet. “Well, I have to take care of a few things so I’ll leave now but I’m heading for New York next Sunday. I took a look at the flights before I spoke to my father, and I’m going to book the 1:15 p.m. See if you can get on the same one; if not, come right behind me.”

“Not on your life.
If I can’t get that one, I’ll try to get an earlier flight, meet you there. You may try to get started without me,” Jagger joked, but both men knew the twisted, sneaky thought had crossed Saint’s mind.

“JFK
airport or LaGuardia?”

“JFK.” Saint yawned. “I’ll send you all the details. I don’t know how long we’ll be gone. It could be a couple of
days; it could be a couple of weeks. It just depends.”

Jagger nodded.
“That’s how healings are. You never know how much time it will take, and what recovery time you’ll need.”

Saint nodded and turned
toward the door.

“Hey, Saint!”

He stopped in his tracks, his hand on the cool, silver knob. “Yeah?”

“Look
.” Jagger exhaled loudly. “I tried to tell Traci…I tried to tell her on my own the other night and chickened out again. I might need your help.”

Saint turned
toward him.

“And I told you I’d be there. I meant that. Now what do I need to do to help you make this happen?”

“Nothing, I guess I just needed the reassurance. So, I will do it soon, I promise, and I will call you and ask you, maybe even Xenia like we discussed, to meet me somewhere or come over.”

“May I make a suggestion?”

“Yes.”

“Tell her when you know she is comfortable and relaxed. Also, in your case it is really important you apologize to her for not telling her sooner. She will need to hear that, Jagger. You are going to have to open up emotionally. Tell her the reasons you didn’t let her know, and then proceed. If you need some assistance on opening up a bit, I can help you with that. Your aim is to be honest with your girlfriend, and to keep the relationship strong and growing. It’s important you don’t appear boastful or
foster resentment because you had to disclose the truth. She will need to see your vulnerability, man, because trust me, there is a strong possibility she will be in shock and pissed at first.”

Jagger nodded. “I get it. I understand. I’m listening.”

“Good, we will discuss it more later but you’ve got me. Xenia knows about it too now, and she is on board. You just tell us when, and it’s done.”

Saint opened the door and walked out of the office
toward the elevators. He needed a drink from the juice bar, something with protein and a little kick. He could feel his body becoming more and more sluggish. It was early resistance, and he hated it that feeling of pulling dead weight, his
own
weight, with each step. Things were not going the way he’d envisioned, but like Jagger, he had to humble himself. The situation manifested and a part of him blamed himself for his father’s condition now. Had his lack of communication with the man at various intervals created more stress? He pressed the down button; it glowed bright orange as the doors closed behind him. He felt the slight stomach tug as the elevator descended to the third floor.

He’d tried to have a relationship with his father for years, practically begged the man, but
shame remained for all the harsh words said over time, the ones his wife warned him about. She didn’t have a father either, not one that had a positive, long-lasting impact on her life. They both suffered from a sense of paternal absenteeism and despite that, they embraced the importance of being good parents to their children, of not repeating history and perpetuating…the sins of the father.

He walked off the elevator and made his way to the small line
of businessmen chatting amongst themselves. Standing at the end of the Rainbeau crowd, he lowered his head as he waited until someone from the front of the line, holding a strawberry banana smoothie with a mint garnish, pointed to him.

“Dr. Aknaten! Come on up here, you don’t have to wait in the back of the line. This is
your
company.” The cheery faced blond with rosy cheeks motioned him forward.

Saint smiled and shook his head
. “If I were in a hurry, I may have taken you up on that, but it’s okay. Thanks for offering…and I will pay for all of your drinks for being so courteous.” That prompted a soft applause and a couple of whistles, while. Saint drifted back into his thoughts.

They
treat me like a king, like royalty…like a leader. It makes the ego feel good, especially now that I feel so crushed, so defeated. If I can’t make this right, can’t help my father, I won’t feel like much at all…like a nobody. I know he wasn’t the best father, I know he was actually harmful to me, due to emotional neglect and verbal abuse, but he loves me…and he…needs me. What is a king if he can’t pay back one of the people that brought them into the world? He gave me life…and I now need to save his…

~***~

“Henry, it’s no problem, really. I’m just glad you could make it,” he lied. It was a necessary untruth, a deliberate case of dishonesty for a cause, and he had to play the role. He’d been trying to avoid the man, and then, like a burst of hot air, the old guy maneuvered toward him and shook his hand. He couldn’t back out. He told Xenia’s father that he wanted to talk to him, and shit, that was what they were going to do.

“Look H
enry, I’m going to be honest. I’m glad you’re here, for Xenia’s sake that is, but I don’t trust you quite yet. That’s going to take some time. Regardless of all of that, I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt, give you a fair shake.”

“I appreciate that Saint, and I understand it. I plan to earn my trust with Xenia again, and I believe once you see that, you will understand I’m sincere.”

“I hope so. Though she may appear aloof, I know deep down Xenia wants you in her life, so please respect that. This might be your last chance and I really do hope it works out.” He gave the man a light hug, then made his way back over to the smoking grill. After a few moments, he was caught up in a rapture of laughter.

Dakarai raced up to him, out of breath, pulling on his shorts.

“What’s up, little man?” Saint grinned down at him.

“How old is Mommy, Daddy?”

Saint’s brow rose. “Why are you asking me that? You already asked her and she didn’t answer, right?” Saint smirked.

Dakarai grinned and nodded.

“Well, it wouldn’t be right for me to tell you if she refused to answer. So, I tell you what, why don’t you tell me why you want to know?”

“Is Mommy older than you, Daddy?”

Saint looked at him in confusion. “No, I’m older than Mommy.”

A look of disappointment swept over the boy’s face.
“Is Traci comin’ to tha party, Daddy?”

“She’s supposed to…but back to this age thing, what’s this all about?” Saint snaked his hand into his pocket.

Dakarai’s eyes darkened. The little dude was definitely up to something. “When is your birthday, Daddy?”

“
You know when my birthday is. The same month as yours, August.”

Dakarai tilted his head to the side, pushed his arms in back of himself and grinned sneakily.

“What are you tryna pull, Dakarai?” Saint put his hand on his hip.” Dakarai ignored him and continued with his inquisition.

“
How much older, like, how much older are you than Mommy?” The boy struggled to put his thoughts together.

“I’m about
three years older than Mommy. Next, you’ll be asking me about zodiac signs!”

“
What’s a zombie sign? So, that’s about the same as me and Traci!” He smiled, pure joy radiating from his face. Saint burst out laughing.

“
We can get into zodiac signs later and about the age, not quite, little man.” Saint’s response didn’t seem to matter; Dakarai was full of confidence as he bounced away. Saint shook his head in confusion and looked around at all the smiling faces as he stood before the grill.

Then, he saw her.

A belly laugh started in the pit of his stomach and meandered its way higher, leaving him a mess as he held a cold brown beer bottle in one hand, and a grill spatula in the other. Pam sat at the lime green umbrella table by their pool, her feet in orange flip-flops propped up on a nearby chair, an unlit cigarette hanging dangerously out the side of her mouth. She wore tight black shorts showcasing big, yellow thunder thighs she was damned proud of. She cut her eyes toward Henry who stood by Porshe as if she were a fortress of protection. Pam had a scowl on her face that was fit for a madman.

Hassani, Dakarai and other children of family and friends
frolicked in the water while the speakers blasted Fresh Prince’s, ‘Summertime.’ The tempting scent of grilled chicken, turkey franks and salmon permeated. Lawrence approached Saint to give him input about the grill, believing himself to be a grill master.

“Now
, what you have to do is turn the meat over.” Lawrence pointed to two chicken breasts.

“Get away from me, man!” Saint laughed
, pretending to elbow him. “I got this!”

“Not according to Xenia. She sent me over here…said you need all the help you can get.”

Saint chuckled as he turned the turkey franks over. “I can’t cook worth a damn, I’d be the first to admit it. But I think I’ve got this grilling thing down pat.” Just then a flame shot up, almost singeing his eyebrows. There was silence, then Lawrence and Saint burst out laughing, Saint more so out of humiliation.

“Just shut up. Don’t say not one word about this to anyone!” Saint cracked up as he thrust his spatula in Lawrence’s arms,
took off his white apron that said, ‘The Man with the Grilling Plan’, and cast it haphazardly onto a lawn chair. He walked away, his Nike flip flops smacking the concrete as he glanced at his sons playing a homemade game in the pool that involved a colorful beach ball, the ability to count to ten, and dirty dealings to win coveted toys.

“Seven! Eight! Nine! Ten!” Dakarai screamed. “I called out green, it’s green! I
get your train!”

“No it ain
’t! It’s yellow and you counted wrong. You were supposed to count from ten backwards. It landed on yellow! You ain’t gettin’ nothin’!” Hassani huffed.

“Ha
ssani!” Xenia called out from her seat next to Stacey. She held Isis by the hand as the little girl tried in vain to break free. “I’m not going to warn you again. Stop speaking to him like that.”

“And it
isn’t
ain’t, it is isn’t.” Saint added with a big grin then wrapped his lips around the rim of his beer and took a swig. He bent down and gave his wife a kiss on the forehead.

“You seen
Mama?” She smirked.

“Yup. Did you tell her he’d be here?” Saint asked as he shot the woman a glance, the cigarette see-sawing out the side of her mouth like a nervous twitch.

“Of course I did. I let her know and she got to rolling her eyes and going off. In fairness to her, Saint, she hasn’t been physically around him in years.” Xenia shook her head. “I told you only my sister deals with him…”

Saint nodded. “You want something to drink? What about you
, Stacey?”

Xenia pointed to a cooler full of spring water. “One of those, please.”

“I’d like water, too.” Stacey added as she handed her daughter another crayon to scribble with in her coloring book.

“Isis, sit dow
n baby and draw Mommy a picture.”

“The food will be ready soon,
Stacey. We’ve got chips, pretzels, pickle roll-ups, devilled eggs, baked beans, potato salad, cheese and crackers, fruit trays, you name it. Help yourself,” Saint offered.

“Thank you. I had a few potato chips and I’ll be back over.”

“Xenia and Mama Pam also made some great desserts for after dinner, so save room!” Saint winked as he walked away to get the waters. He tossed his empty beer bottle in the trashcan. On his journey, he saw Lawrence and Donna standing side by side in front of the grill. From Lawrence’s body language, they appeared to be having a disagreement.

What the hell?
Saint rolled his eyes, an ice-cold water bottle in each hand. 
The man can’t catch a break!
  Donna jammed her finger in his face, her head moving to and fro as her ‘sista-girl’ attitude shined loud and clear. Lawrence’s dark eyebrows bunched and his lips twisted in a frown.

I better help him…

He swiftly walked back to Xenia and Stacey, and thrust the bottles in their hands. As he made his way toward the quarreling couple, Jagger’s voice boomed.

“We’re here!” He laughed
, gripped a beer bottle he’d pulled from the cooler and quickly wrapped his arm tightly around Traci. Saint gave Jagger a brotherly hug and Traci a kiss on the cheek.

“What’s up, man! Late as hell! Where have you been?” Saint laughed as he sized the couple up.

“Traci had to go into work this morning for a meeting at the last minute and this afternoon she needed to pick up something from the store for one of her co-workers’ birthday,” Jagger explained as he popped the bottle open and downed half of it in a single swig.

“Cool
…look,” Saint looked over his shoulder at Lawrence, who now stood solo, but obviously angry based on his body language. The man stared down at the food on the grill, placed some onto a nearby platter and tenderly brushed some pieces of meat with Xenia’s killer home-made barbecue sauce. “I want you two to help yourselves to the refreshments and snacks and dinner will be ready soon.” Jagger nodded as Saint turned away to go to Lawrence, but then grabbed Saint by the collar of his gray Nike tank top and pulled him back.

“What?” Saint said in almost a whisper.

“Don’t go over there.” Jagger took another hard, fast swig of his bottle as his eyes narrowed on the target—Lawrence. “He will blow up. Donna, right?” Jagger smirked.

Saint nodded. “Of course.
She just won’t let up. Everything was going just fine until she started a fight with him. If my mother-in-law can be on her best behavior with her ex-husband swarming around, surely, she can do the same.”

Hormones or not, this is ridiculous.

Traci left them to join Xenia and Stacey. The three women immediately burst into lively conversation and laughter, while Donna lounged by herself, only a few feet away, as if she had an axe to grind, a score to settle. The woman’s dark, smooth skin glimmered under the sunrays; her pressed hair pulled back in a puffy ponytail and a scowl on her face to fit The Grinch that Stole Christmas. What a shame that such a lovely woman rarely smiled. She was hospitable, yet there always appeared to be tension and judgment coming from her general direction. Jagger made his way toward the pool, surprising Saint to no end. Before he knew it, the man was jumping in the deep end and chasing the children around, growling like an ogre and drawing shrieks and yells of delight from the little ones. Saint went to his wife.

“Everyone fine over here? Anyone need anything?” he offered.

“Saint, I thought you were supposed to be minding the grill?” Traci teased, causing the other two to burst out laughing. Xenia poked the woman with her elbow while stifling a laugh.

“Oh, I see you’ve got jokes, Traci. Xenia’s been over here gossiping about me, huh?” He feigned anger as he glared at her, only causing more laughter.

“Now baby, you know I’d never do such a thing!” Xenia lied. The truth was written all over her face.

“That’s cool!
I will take all three of you on in a game of pool later, and let’s see who gets the last laugh then! Put up or shut up!”

“Saint, nobody is falling for that.
” Xenia rolled her eyes dramatically. “You need to just accept that you can’t grill, can’t cook, can’t bake…can’t do anything that requires an open flame, you can barely microwave.”

“When everyone is gone, it’ll be just you and me left here,
sweetie and you’ll have to answer to this blatant disrespect!” Saint teased with a swat at her arm to which she reacted by blinking and veering back in melodramatic fashion.

“
You disrespected all of us when you stood by that grill!” Xenia grinned, seeming to relish in his squirming.

The women really got to laughing now.

“You should have just hired Lawrence or a caterer. We’ve been out here over an hour, roasting like Cornish hens… People are starving, all because you wanted to be ‘tha man’ and show everyone how it’s done. Ain’t nobody got time for that!” She burst out laughing, causing a ricochet of guffawing around her.

“I can’t believe you are goin’ in on me like this!”
He found it funny, and could laugh at himself, but a small part of him was truly set on some sort of inconsequential retaliation once the coast was clear, and he had her all to himself.

Staci and Traci were turning red as they laughed almost to delirium. “Forget y
’all.” Saint grinned. “I know when I’m not appreciated.” And he stormed off, a big smile on his face, causing more chortling at his expense. He made his way around the opposite side of the pool.

“Hi
, Henry. Would you like something else to drink?” He took the crushed, empty water bottle from the man’s grip. “What about you, Porsche?”

“I’m fine, thanks
,” Xenia’s sister replied as she nestled closer to her father. Saint could definitely see the difference in acceptance. Porsche behaved as if the sun rose and set on the man, while Xenia had barely said more than a sentence to him upon his arrival. He observed his wife who used friends, children and her mother as a buffer. She didn’t want to touch him—in fact seemed to recoil from his presence. It was a back and forth game. She was trying to transcend her emotional hurdles, but he figured she just didn’t want to give it energy right then and there. He wanted to help but understood it was Xenia’s struggle, her cross to bear, and he wouldn’t dare interfere in her process. After all, he knew all about that sort of hurt. Things like that took time.

“Thank you, Saint. Uh
…” The man’s bushy brows bunched. “The cooler is kinda close to Pam and she’s already said a couple of things to me… I’m just trying to keep the peace.” Saint nodded, but didn’t feel sincerity from the man. The guy seemed to enjoy that Pam was upset, but Saint felt himself sink into a psychic pickle. His wife’s emotions were too raw, and he was picking up on them, which caused a blending affect. They were one. Soulmates. Connected beings. Regardless, he tried and tried, and the more he looked at the dude, the more he didn’t like him. Saint felt a bit petty about the entire ordeal. The man hadn’t done one damn thing to him, hadn’t said anything to cause him alarm or concern; it was just a hunch. The more time passed, the more he convinced himself he’d adopted Xenia’s sentiments regarding the matter. He was too close to the burn. He didn’t trust him, though parts of the man made his heart soften, and kept him from going on a horrid inquisition. What the hell was he was supposed to do? When he looked at Henry’s face, he saw bits and pieces of his wife—therefore, cursing him out, and taking him to task for walking out on his family, would feel like doing the same to her. Not only that, Xenia would be mortified if he didn’t control himself. She didn’t want any public scenes today, but that was a tall bill.