Dark Waters, page 10
So is Saint. When he gets up to hug her, he’s not crying hard like Porsha, but tears roll out of his eyes one after the other. “Are we really doing this? Because if so . . . there is no going back.”
She kisses him when he sits beside her. “Yes, we’re doing this. I’m done with that life in LA. I don’t want to go back, Saint Kenny . . . I never want to see that place or that man I left behind again, so yes! One hundred percent, yes, let’s do this . . . just me and you.” She stares at the ring. “This is the right time for us to get married.”
“Nobody can ever know, though, Porsha. What we have . . . us . . . it’s all real. You’re carrying my baby. You are becoming my wife. I’ll be your husband . . . in real life.”
“I got it. And I’ll be the best wife to you that I can be. Just like Taylor is to Keenan, and your mom is to your dad.”
Saint Kenny doesn’t want to discuss his family and ruin the vibe. Instead, he wants to enjoy this moment and let his fake proposal happen naturally. “And you are that woman to me, Porsha.”
“Then when are you going to tell your folks?”
There she goes again, bringing them up. “We can have dinner with them next week to tell them the good news. And from what I can see, they’re in a good place right now, so no fighting this time.”
Porsha laughs. “Good.”
He takes her hand. “Porsha, I want to marry you immediately, and telling my parents will make it official.”
“Of course! And Saint, I give all of me to you. Every drop in public and in private . . . but under one condition.” She looks at him. “Saint Kenny, I think I’m falling in love with you . . . in real life, but Jonathan has to go. He’s a part of your past, but you have me now.” She then throws her arms around Saint with him hugging her as tight as he can.
This is not the ideal life Saint Kenny planned for himself, but he’s getting used to the idea. When they were small, he always told his brother that he would end up with his dream girl on his arm, never expecting it to happen. So in a way, this is the life he planned, and he will do anything to keep it.
As Porsha throws her arms around him again, talking about her dress, shoes, and the ceremony, she stops and looks at him for a minute. “Are you okay?”
Saint Kenny smiles and says, “I’m fine, Porsha,” dying on the inside.
20
Lillian
One Week Later
As Lillian sits in front of the restaurant waiting on Keenan Sr. and Saint Kenny, she calls Naomi’s phone again. When her voicemail comes on, she leaves her another message. The third one today, the second one this hour. “Naomi, this is Mom again. Look, let me tell you something, little girl; if you don’t call me back, I will put my foot so far up your ass . . .” She quickly tries to calm down. “Naomi, call me back. I know you’re at the other house; the security company called me this morning.” When Lillian sees Keenan Sr. pulling up, she hurries to the end of the message. “Now you can stay there for as long as you want, only if you took care of what I told you to take care of.” Lillian smiles and waves to her husband when she looks at him parked in the space beside her. Then, she’s back to threatening Naomi via her voicemail. “If you didn’t take care of it, I will get your father involved, and since he’s already pissed at you, you don’t want that, honey . . . do you? Now call me back!”
Lillian gives Keenan Sr. a big hug when she gets out of her car. He says, “Hello, sweetheart; you look lovely.”
Lillian’s smile gets bigger from Keenan Sr.’s compliment. She says, “Thank you, honey,” before their hands lock between them. Next, they head into the restaurant.
Lillian and Judge Waters are on their best behavior tonight. They’re in public, so it’ll be all smiles, hand-holding, and respect for the rest of the evening.
Lillian says, “Thank you,” when Keenan Sr. pulls out her chair at the elegant round table. They are at The Capital Grille to meet Saint. He said he had a big announcement and wanted them both here.
After a few minutes of them sitting there, Saint walks up and greets them. “Hey, Mama. You don’t have to get up.” He bends down and kisses Lillian’s cheek.
“Hey, baby.”
“Hey, hey, Dad. You don’t have to get up either.”
“Nonsense.” Keenan Sr. stands up and hugs his son. “Hello there, Saint. I’m so glad to see you. How is work coming?”
The three enjoy each other as they laugh, talk, and catch up.
As the evening progresses, Keenan Sr. orders a bottle of the most expensive wine on the menu.
Saint Kenny says, “This is a perfect time for wine, Dad.”
“Why is that, son?”
“Because we have to celebrate . . . I asked Porsha to marry me.” The dimple in his jaw sinks in when he smiles over at his mother. “And she said yes . . . ” He says, “She said yes,” again, looking at his father glowing.
Lillian gets up and goes over to Saint Kenny, beaming with joy too. “Saint, this is awesome news!”
“Ma, I told you you didn’t have to get up.” He laughs when she kisses him and tells him how much she loves him. “Thanks, Ma! And I love you too.”
“We are so proud of you, Saint Kenny.”
“Thanks, Dad.” With his parents smiling at him, Saint says, “Now that you two know . . . it’s official!”
Keenan Sr. asks, “Son, do you love Porsha?”
“I do, Dad. With all my heart.”
“Well, then, you have our full blessing and support.”
Lillian says, “Saint, I knew when you first brought Porsha to the house that she was the one.” That is a lie. When Saint Kenny first brought Porsha to the house, Lillian looked at their hands locked between them before she asked Saint, “Son, who is this?”
As Saint Kenny told her about the girl he held hands with, Lillian could tell he was nervous. Just like he is now. He tried so hard to be convincing, but Lillian knew then, and she knows now that this Porsha person doesn’t belong to Saint. She’s just another near-anonymous girl he met and brought home for them to meet. Lillian thought the end.
Saint said he had known Porsha for over a year, but Lillian knew that wasn’t true either. Besides, she knows Saint is gay . . . she’s known since he was ten. It never mattered to her, though, so she’s never addressed it because he didn’t. However, Saint confirmed her suspicions when she walked up behind him one day while he was in their kitchen on the phone. Lillian stood quietly as he told the naked boy on his screen that he loved him. Saint called him Jonathan on the phone. Lillian wondered if that was his real name. She then wondered if she would ever get the chance to meet the young man that made her son smile so big. He smiles at Porsha too, but not like he was when he was talking to the guy named Jonathan.
Lillian put all that mess out of her head and sipped champagne. Besides, she was okay as long as Saint was happy. Bullshit! Lillian was okay as long as Saint and Porsha looked good to the public and in the media when cameras were on Keenan Sr.
She winks her eye at Saint when she says, “We are very happy for you, son. I mean it.”
Saint looks at Lillian when he says, “Thanks, Ma,” before he texts Porsha to come to the table. Shortly after, she looks so sweet standing there when she walks up.
Lillian stands up and smiles at her son before she lovingly greets Porsha. “Hello, sweetheart.”
“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Waters. I’m so glad to be here.” Saint Kenny pushes her chair in as she sits. “I’m assuming Saint Kenny told you two the good news.” Porsha flashes her left hand at them. “And I said yes!”
Lillian says, “This is wonderful news,” as she and Keenan Sr. started asking at least fifty questions apiece, starting with, “When is the wedding? Where are you two going to live?” And the golden question they ask in unison: “How many more babies y’all having?”
Saint and Porsha answer each question, both with big bright smiles on their faces.
At the end of dinner, Keenan Sr. and Lillian glow joyfully, looking at pretty Porsha with her relishing every moment. Lillian thinks Saint Kenny should have nicknamed her perfect Porsha because she is doing and saying everything just right, trying her hardest to be so damn perfect.
Lillian thinks, Baby, you can try all you want, but you and Saint ain’t fooling me, but I’ll play along. Right then, Lillian calls out, “Welcome to the family!”
21
Judge Waters
As Judge Waters rides home alone from the restaurant with Lillian and Saint, he gets ready to call Mia. She was all he could think about at dinner, so he couldn’t wait to hear her voice. However, his phone starts to ring right before he taps her number to call her. He quickly answers when he sees Regional Office under a phone number not saved in his contacts.
“This is Judge Waters.”
“My, my, my. How long has it been, Keenan? And don’t say a year or two because that would be a fib.”
It’s Clarence Washburn, a personal friend of Judge Waters. He works in the criminal law division at the Attorney General’s office and always has his ears and eyes on the streets. He and the judge have been close friends for over thirty years. Clarence worked in city hall as a deputy clerk in the 70s until he bid on a new position in the attorney general office in the early 2000s. So after Keenan Sr. made a phone call, he was in.
Judge Waters panics when he hears Clarence’s voice because he knows this call would either cost him twenty thousand dollars or severely piss him off. “I’m glad to hear from you, Clarence, but I’ve made three donations already this month. I also signed two big personal checks for uniforms for the cops in the 12th district when the bill didn’t pass.”
“This isn’t about money, or uniforms, Keenan.”
It’s not about to cost him twenty grand, so severely piss him off is next in line. “Then, what’s going on, Clarence? You call me well after nine, so it must be important.”
“I’m at the office looking at some possible criminal activity that I hope is not happening.”
“Criminal activity on who?”
“Your son.”
Keenan Sr. says, “My son?!” excitedly. “Which son?!”
“Keenan Jr.” Silence. “ . . . Look, Keenan, you know I’ve always respected you, so I’m calling you before this leaves my desk.”
Keenan Sr. wants to ask How much is it this time, Clarence? But he doesn’t since he is unaware of what Clarence had on his son. So, instead, he asks, “What is it this time, Clarence?” as he prays, Please don’t let this be about money, Keenan Jr.!
“Well, for starters, he’s been very busy in and around Pennsylvania.”
“He’s a philanthropist, and he’s running for mayor. He’s out in the community putting in the work, which is a substantial part of his candidacy, Clarance, you know that.”
“Look, we can’t talk about it over the phone. I can bury what I have and then come to see you.”
All Keenan Sr. says is, “Hold on to it.”
“Fine, I’ll get rid of it. There are no charges or official complaints against your son. I just received an email from an anonymous . . . you know what, it’s nothing. Like I said, I’ll get rid of it, and that’ll be that.”
“I didn’t say get rid of anything; I just said hold onto what you have until you come to see me.”
Clarence drops his voice when he says, “If the attorney general sees this, your son will go to prison.”
“Michelle won’t see anything, right, Clarence?”
“ . . . No. I won’t say a word.”
“Good. Come and see me so we can talk, but first, I want you to start watching my son like a fucking hawk. Don’t let that bastard out of your sight, Clarence. Every move that he makes, you report it back to me, and then I’ll take care of it . . .”
22
Keenan Jr.
Keenan Jr. and Taylor ride to the Sheridan Hotel for a charity banquet in the city. Taylor wanted to call a car, but Keenan Jr. insisted they drive. As he gets onto the freeway, he looks at Taylor and admires how the pricey gown slinks off her body. “You look good tonight, baby.”
Taylor winks at him. “So do you, DA Waters,” looking at the silhouette of his muscles through his Dior blazer.
They enjoy light conversation as Keenan Jr. pulls up in front of the hotel. Then, once they get out, they both glide into the lobby with the rest of the fancy crowd. But, before they enter the ballroom, Keenan Jr. stops Taylor and pulls her to the side. She looks at him. “What is it, honey?”
“I have something for you.” Keenan Jr. pulls out a black velvet box. When he opens it, Taylor’s eyes pop from the tennis bracelet inside. He hasn’t forgotten about her in the bathroom whispering the other night, but since he’s living so foul, he buys her gifts instead of checking her—basically letting that shit slide for now. But he is just like his dad; the messier his life is behind his wife’s back, the more expensive the presents get.
Taylor’s mouth is wide open, looking at the forty thousand dollar bracelet as it glitters in the case. “Keenan, what is this for? It’s not my birthday or our anniversary.”
“It’s because I love you, Taylor. And I want to thank you for sticking by me. I know how tough it is with you raising our daughter without me being there the way you want and need me to be. But, throughout it all, you hold it together, and I just want to thank you for that.” He takes the bracelet from the case and puts it on Taylor’s wrist.
Once it’s latched, she throws her arms around him. “Thank you, honey.” They kiss. “You didn’t have to get me the bracelet I’ve been obsessing over since Christmas, but I’m so glad you did.”
They both laugh as Keenan Jr.’s phone vibrates. It’s a text from Gugliemelli: Meet me in the bathroom loverboy. With Taylor gazing at her new present, Keenan Jr. puts his phone away before she sees it.
“I have to go to the restroom, babe.”
“Okay. I can wait for you out here.”
Keenan Jr. calls out to one of the lead DA’s wives as she’s gliding by. He thinks right on time when he says, “Victoria Sharpman, how are you?”
“Keenan Waters, hello! I was just asking Byron about you the other day.” She stretches her neck as she looks for her husband. “He’s around here somewhere.”
After Keenan Jr. spends a few more seconds laughing and talking with the woman, he kisses Taylor on the cheek. “Honey, why don’t you head in with Victoria; we’re all at the head table. I’ll be in shortly.”
The lady grabs Taylor by the hand. “Come on, hon. We can catch up while our husbands get ready to deliver their boring speeches.” They laugh as Victoria Sharpman looks down at Taylor’s wrist. She takes in a breath of air when she says, “Taylor, your bracelet is stunning.”
“Aw, thank you. It was a gift from Keenan.” Then, Taylor turns and blows Keenan Jr. a kiss before they head in the opposite direction.
As the two elegantly dressed women walk away, Keenan Jr. slips into the bathroom. When he gets in there, he quickly walks down the roll of stalls looking under each door to ensure he and Gugliemelli are alone.
“The first time I see you in weeks is in the toilet? We have to get a new meeting place.” Gugliemelli watches Keenan Jr. “And I already checked; no one is in here.”
Keenan Jr. keeps checking anyway. “Shut up. And don’t fuckin’ call me lover boy, you nasty-ass slob.”
Offended, Gugliemelli snaps, “Cool it, asshole, before I go out there and tell the board where your donation is coming from.”
“Say something like that again, so we can find out how many teeth can go down your throat before you start to choke. Now where in the fuck is my—”
“I got it right here, Keenan, damn. You black guys are something else.” Keenan Jr. balls his fists up, looking about ready to charge Gugliemelli until he starts bringing out money. First, he hands him two stacks of new blue and green hundred-dollar bills. “Here; this ten-k is for pushing that lucrative minority business contract for the Keystone brothers.”
When Keenan Jr. puts the money in his suit jacket, he asks, “Where is the rest of it?”
“Do I ever leave you hanging?” Gugliemelli pulls out two checks made out to Keenan Jr., doubling the cash he just handed him. “There is one check there from Faith’s guy Papadopoulos and the other is for the expense reports you doctored for Terry Cummings over in common pleas.” Gugliemelli said, “They’re both good.”
As Keenan Jr. inspects the checks, he says, “This is more like it. We’re not done, but this will do for now.” Keenan Jr. turns his face up as Gugliemelli takes a piss at the urinal. “Man, you are disgusting; you couldn’t go into the stall?”
“Nope. And I saw you in the lobby with that fancy diamond bracelet for your wife. I also saw the new Mercedes you pulled up here in.”
“It’s a BMW, and what’s your point?”
“My point is don’t flash too much of the city’s money in their faces.”
Keenan Jr. looks at his reflection in the full-length mirror as Gugliemelli talks. First, his eyes go to his crip lining. Next, his tailormade suit. Then his fifteen hundred dollar Hermès loafers. He gives himself a wink, thinking You the man, KJ. Now all I need is the rest of my money, and I’ll be straight.
His eyes then go to Gugliemelli when he walks up behind him. “I’m telling you, Keenan, tone it down.”
Keenan Jr. grabs one of the brown paper towels from the machine on the wall, lightly wipes across his brows, and then throws the paper towel into the small trash can by the sink. He glares at Gugliemelli through the mirror when he says, “You just worry about getting my money to me on time.” He turns to him so they’re now face to face. “Don’t worry about how I spend it, muthafucka.”
After checking Gugliemelli, Keenan Jr. walks out of the bathroom, enters the lobby, and is quickly greeted by the senator and his wife. Since Gugliemelli doesn’t wash his hands, he is right behind Keenan Jr. and can’t believe how different his voice sounds with his snobby politician friends. Gugliemelli thinks his tone sure did change in front of them, listening to Keenan Jr.
