Uptown Thief (33 page)

1

The Sky is Crying

R
ashad Eason reached across the desk and handed the woman a fifteen-hundred-dollar cashier's check. She had pasty, pimpled white skin, a buzz haircut, and a thick mustache. She was very unattractive. To Rashad, she resembled a proud lesbian but that didn't matter. He had extensively researched Lily Tangaro online. He admired her track record and needed a competent person to do the job.

“You think you can get me everything I want?” he asked.

Lily examined the check, then reclined in her leather swivel chair. “You're serious about this, aren't you?” she said.

“More serious than a triple bypass.”

“But it hasn't been that long since you physically separated from your wife.”

“I know that. But if I don't do something fast, I may change my mind.”

“I see.” She paused. “We always recommend that the plaintiff think about the decision for six months.”

“I can't wait that long. Thinking about this for six months would kill me.”

She nodded and secured the retainer payment inside a classified file folder. “Sign these documents and we will get started on your case right away.”

Rashad eagerly reviewed several papers that Lily gave to him. He took a blue pen and scribbled his name and the date. Then he stood and shook her hand.

“Thank you, Ms. Tangaro.”

“Call me, Lily.”

“Will do, Lily. And my son, Myles, really thanks you.”

“Seriously? He's only six—”

“He's seven. Myles knows what's up. He's seen a lot, unfortunately. And this is why I gotta do this. It may be the only way I get to spend quality time with him. Plus, I don't want my son around his crazy mama any longer than he needs to be.”

“Totally understandable. We'll be in touch.”

“No doubt, Lily. I appreciate this.”

Rashad drove away from his new attorney's office feeling more hopeful than he had in weeks.

It was a rainy Friday in Houston; the day after Thanksgiving. Rashad was lucky that Lily had agreed to meet him briefly in her office to sign his paperwork.

Light drops of water drizzled from the sky. Rainy days made Rashad feel depressed. But he had to shake it off and keep it moving. It was time to go see Myles. And spending time with his son was one of the few things he could be happy about these days.

When Rashad arrived at the designated pick-up spot, which was in front of Mama Flora's house, he let the car idle next to the curb. Technically, she could be considered his grandmother-in-law. Mama Flora was his wife's maternal grandmother, and the woman that raised Kiara. She was sensible and didn't stand for drama. Rashad and Kiara both agreed that exchanging Myles for visits at Flora's place would be the best option.

Rashad impatiently drummed his hands on the steering wheel. He listened to raindrops splatter on the ground. Minutes later, Kiara drove up and parked directly behind him. He observed her through the rearview mirror.

“Damn, I can barely see her but the woman still looks good,” he admitted to himself. He hadn't laid eyes on Kiara in weeks. And after all they had been through, she still tugged at his heart.

He saw her mouth moving and assumed she was talking to their son. After a while, both Kiara and Myles emerged from the car. Wearing white gym shoes, the little boy ran behind the car then raced ahead of her. He fled into the street instead of staying on the sidewalk. Soon he tugged at his father's locked door handle and yelled.

“Hurry up, Daddy. I'm famished.”

Rashad laughed and popped the locks. He got out of the car and scooped Myles off his feet and hugged him tight.

“Really Myles? You're famished? Where'd you learn that word?”

“The Food Network.”

Rashad chuckled as he set him back down.

“Oh, so I don't get a ‘hey, Daddy, how you doing? I miss you. I love you, man'?”

“Hey, Daddy, I missed you. Can we go to Steak and Shake for dinner?”

“Myles,” Kiara interrupted as she hurriedly approached them wearing a short, purple long-sleeve dress and four-inch wedge heel sandals. “I told you about running in the street. Are you crazy? Do you wanna get hit by a car? It's raining and that makes it harder for drivers to slow down in this weather.”

Kiara eased up next to Myles. She thumped him on his forehead.

“Ouch, Mommy.”

“Don't do that,” Rashad scolded. “My little man misses me, that's all. It's been a minute.”

“Whatever Rashad,” she spat at him. “None of that matters. He knows better than to do something reckless like running in the street. He doesn't listen.”

“I do listen, Mommy.” Myles mostly ignored his mother as he happily gave his father a few daps. The little boy always seemed calm and sure of himself when he was in Rashad's presence.

“You're a chip off the old block, son,” his father said. He knew the danger of Myles not looking where he was going but Rashad didn't notice any cars coming down the street. He could tell how much his boy deeply missed him and that made him feel good.

“Damn, I've been dying to hang out with my little man. Has he gotten taller? What the hell you been feeding him?”

“That's a stupid question and you know how I feel about those.”

“I was just joking, Kiara. Lighten up.”

“Ain't got time for jokes.”

Suddenly the air grew tense. Rashad felt himself getting agitated.

“Look, this is the holiday season. People are supposed to be merry. But you act like you on something. You been drinking? Can't you ever be happy and just chill?”

“Lord Jesus. More stupid ass questions. Don't start.”

Kiara gave Rashad a sober look as she handed him Myles's backpack.

“Lucky for you, Mama Flora is away from her house right now. At the last second, she had something to take care of and she had to leave. So we both have to be mature enough to handle this without her.”

“That's cool. I got no problem with that.”

“Anyway, all his things are in there: two pair of pants, some shirts, underwear, pajamas, favorite electric toothbrush, all that.”

“Hmm, seeing this makes me realize I gotta stock up on some stuff for him to keep at . . .”

He wanted to say he had to buy clothes for Myles to keep at his other place, a home he started sharing with his pregnant lover, Nicole Greene. Weeks ago, when his wife forced him to leave the house because she got sick of Rashad's lies, Nicole instantly suggested that he come stay with her. On that short of a notice, he had nowhere else to go. So he took her up on her offer. And now he was adjusting to his ‘new normal.'

Rashad mentally switched gears as he gazed at Myles.

“Damn shame we couldn't eat turkey and dressing together, and watch the Lions and Cowboys game. That's what I did with my dad every Thanksgiving when he was still alive. I was
always
with my daddy on that holiday. Sitting up in that cold ass living room. Eating good food and talking smack. I wish we could have done that, Myles.”

Rashad stared at his son but he was talking to Kiara.

“Um,” she responded. “We had the whole day already planned so he wouldn't have had a chance to come by anyway. We went to the parade downtown. We ate a wonderful dinner. And then we drove down to see the Festival of Lights at Moody Gardens. Myles ended up having a
real
good time with us, didn't you?”

“Uh huh,” he said.

“Cool,” was Rashad's clipped response. “I'm glad for you.”

He acted like he was unbothered. But Rashad hated that Kiara stopped him from spending time with his child two holidays in a row.
She
got to pick his costume and take Myles trick or treating. And
she
got to eat turkey with him too. What gave her the right? Just because she made him leave the house, does that mean she could enforce all her own rules as well?

Rashad fought to hide his anger as he leered at Kiara on the sly. She was holding one of those huge pink and black golf umbrellas in her hand. Even on a dreary looking afternoon, somehow this woman managed to appear elegant and beautiful. Her eyes were full of spunk and passion. It seemed she didn't have a care in the world.

And he hated it.

But at the same time, Rashad was strangely tempted to grab his wife in his arms, slap her one good time, kiss her, and tell her that they were both acting silly. He wished they could get their emotions in check, work things out, save the marriage. He really didn't want to file on her, but she was acting unreasonable. He wished she could get some sense into her stubborn head. Maybe she'd listen and let him come back home where he felt he belonged. But that scenario was a hopeless fairy tale. He knew Kiara was still pissed and he didn't want to risk getting swung at in public.

“All righty then,” Rashad spoke up, anxious to leave. “Since I have less time than I originally thought, we need to make that move right now. I will have little man back here on Sunday night around eight.”

“Eight?”

“Okay, then. Seven.”

“Sunday
afternoon
, Rashad. I need him here by two so I can make sure he has time to take his bath, complete his homework, and eat dinner. Plus, if we decide to go check out that new Madagascar movie he's begged us to see, we will probably want him around noon.”

Rashad knew his wife was referring to her new man when she said “We.”

“Back by
noon
? That means I won't even get to spend, hell, even a full twenty-four hours with him—”

“Sorry, but that's just how it is.”

“You're not sorry, Kiara. You're selfish. I haven't seen my son in God knows how long. I have a right to be with the boy just like you do. And I will bring Myles back when I'm done with him.”

“Wait one second here. I find it so strange that all of a sudden you are so desperate to spend time with him. You should have thought about how important he was back when you were sacrificing time with your son to go lie up and bump your nuts on that whore.”

“W-what did you say?”

“You heard exactly what I said. If you hadn't done what you did, we wouldn't be out here on these streets doing this; exchanging a child like he's a drug or a piece of currency. Do you know how mad this makes me? I did everything and I mean
ev-e-ry
-thing I could to make you happy, but no, no, no. Nothing I did was good enough. You had to go get yourself a damned side piece. Her pussy must taste like Skittles.”

“Kiara, you best better shut your mouth.”

“So it's true? Her coochie taste like Gucci?”

“I'm warning you.”

She was ready to attack him with more angry words, but she grew alarmed when she noticed a frozen smile gripping her son's face. He resembled a mannequin; he looked like he was scared something bad would happen if he moved an inch.

Kiara realized she'd gone too far. But she usually did when it came to Rashad. She hated that his whorish ways had destroyed their perfect family life. She hated that not only had he knocked up that heifer Nicole Greene, but he'd also been hiding a two-year-old daughter that he had with another woman who worked for her: Alexis McNeil, her own administrative assistant. Her hubby hiding baby mamas and side chicks that worked in her office was too much. Rashad made her look like a fool. The more Kiara thought about it, the crazier she felt in the head.

She reached and grabbed Myles's hand as if to snatch him back toward her car.

“What are you doing?” Rashad asked.

“Let me be clear. I don't know if we're ready for this informal custody sharing thing. I know it's the decent thing to do, but hell, I'm not feeling ‘decent' right now. I think we need to take baby steps. So if you can't bring him back by noon, then he's going home with me right now. I'll let you have him in two weeks. For a full weekend. Promise.”

“See, this is bullshit. I was supposed to get him last weekend, remember? You broke that so-called promise. Why you always got to be in control?”

They were still standing in the street next to Rashad's idling sedan.

“Why you always try to run shit like I'm your child? Or your employee. Huh? I'm a grown ass man.” He stepped closer to her. “Who the hell put you in charge of me?”

Kiara snatched Myles's bony little arm and pulled so violently that he screamed, “Ouch! That hurts.”

“Your crazy ass better let go of my son.” Rashad grabbed Myles's other arm.

“Shut up! I don't like how you're talking to me.”

“I don't like the fact that you fucked another nigga; now you pregnant. I guess we should go on the Maury show to find out who the real father is.”

“What the hell? That's it. Forget this. Come on, Myles.” She yanked him again.

“Mama, I want to stay with my daddy. I want my daddy.” Myles inched closer to Rashad.

“I don't care what you want. He doesn't deserve you. We're leaving. Come on.”

Raindrops poured from above as if the sky was crying. Kiara tried to hold her umbrella in one hand and drag away Myles with the other.

But the boy wrestled with her, pulling back from her, and tried to free himself.

“My arm. It hurts. It
hurts
. I don't like this. Let me gooo.”

Kiara wouldn't release Myles, but Rashad did.

He'd been taught that real men don't cry. But right then, he was filled with uncontrollable rage and a lingering frustration that made his throat swell with pain. It wasn't fair that since Kiara banned him from their house he hadn't played with his son, hadn't looked him in his eyes, or helped him with his homework. He missed fixing Myles's breakfast and shooting hoops with him in their backyard. Little things meant a lot. And Rashad resented the legal system which granted numerous women so much power when it came to a man, his money, and his children.