Dark Waters, page 4
He looks over to the woman in his bedroom with him. “Porsha, how are you feeling?”
Porsha Lozada is twenty-five. She’s Afro-Venezuelan with espresso-brown skin, a cute little body, and a baby bump. She’s pretty, pregnant, confused, quiet, and scared. She rubs her round belly when she answers Saint Kenny. “I’m okay. A little nervous about being with your family tonight, though.”
Saint seems baffled when he looks at her. “You’re still nervous around my family? You know them and should feel comfortable around them by now.”
“I’m not so sure about the comfortable part, but I do know them, which is why I’m nervous. It seems like at every other dinner, some drama starts. We last ate together at Kennedy Marie’s birthday party in January. That was cool, so tonight, it’s bound to be some mess.”
In response to Porsha, Saint Kenny starts a new conversation. He’s hesitating at first but does eventually get the words out. “ . . . I think it’s time we got married . . . well, at least engaged.” He goes over and warmly cradles Porsha’s belly, speaking carefully. “I’ll be thirty in two years . . . you’re pregnant and . . . It would probably look better if we were married or—”
“Or at least engaged, right?” She cuts him off. “So where is this coming from all of a sudden, Saint Kenny? Sounds like more pressure to me.”
When he sits on the bed pouting, Porsha goes over and comforts him. “I shouldn’t have done that. I-I shouldn’t have questioned you. I know my part in all of this, Saint Kenny. If you want to get engaged, we’ll get engaged. Tomorrow if you like. If you want to have a wedding, we’ll do that too. Look at me.” He looks over at her. “I’m here for and with you. Saint Kenny, I’m riding this out the whole way, praying the wheels don’t fall off. I’m here, just-just don’t leave me . . . Don’t send me back there.” She reaches for his hand and places it on her stomach. She cries as she pleads with him. “Please don’t leave us.”
“Shh. I’m not going anywhere, Porsha, and neither are you. We’re in this together. Look, I’ll make a deal with you . . . I promise I will never leave you or the baby as long as you promise never to leave me.”
Porsha is crying so hard she can barely speak, thinking, I cannot go back there, so whatever he says goes. “ . . . I promise, Saint Kenny.”
With his pinky stretched out to her, ready to pinky swear, Porsha throws her arms around him. Saint Kenny slowly puts his arms around her, holding her tight until his phone starts to vibrate on the bed. When he looks at it, there’s a slim dark skinned dude with a crispy beard on Saint Kenny’s screen. His name shows: JONATHAN
Saint Kenny grabs his phone. “Porsha, I have to take this.” He then gets up, heads to the bathroom, and pulls the sliding door closed but not all the way. His back is to the door as he sits on the side of the jacuzzi tub Facetiming Jonathan Pace—he’s twenty-eight too and can sometimes be too shy and way too sensitive. He’s handsome, slim, a little flamboyant at times, and madly in love with Saint Kenny.
Saint and Jonathan met on a dating app three years ago. Jonathan swears it was Grinder, though Saint says it was another app like Tinder—you know, one of the ones for women and men looking for love. When they met, they didn’t hook up right away. Saint was too scared because he said Jonathan was only the second guy he’s ever come out to. Jonathan could tell he was nervous initially and didn’t want to rush him, so he was cool with taking things slow. But now that everything between them is solid, here comes Porsha.
Saint Kenny smiles so big when he answers the call. “Hey.”
“Hey.”
“I’m surprised you Facetimed me; I know it’s not your thing.”
“It’s not, but . . .” Jonathan’s energy instantly turns nasty. “Em, I guess I’m on one today.”
Saint Kenny’s eyebrows furrow together. “How so?” When Jonathan gives him a come on now look, Saint says, “She’s in the other room.”
“I guess I didn’t have to Facetime you to find that out, huh.”
“No, you didn’t because I would’ve told you regardless. Damn Jonathan; you been trippin’ lately.”
“You think so?”
“Yeah, you have, but why, though? You know what the arrangement is; you knew what it was when it first started. Shit, you were right there when it first started.”
Los Angeles, California
Four months ago, at The W Hollywood hotel, Porsha hurried away from her outraged boyfriend, middle-grade drug dealer Héctor Sánchez — he’s super cute, super abusive, and always super high on his own supply.
In a heavy Spanish accent, Héctor yells at Porsha, “Get back here, you bitch! COME HERE! PORSHA!”
Porsha is trying to get away. “Héctor, please! Leave me alone, and stop hitting me!”
When Héctor catches her, he slaps her around. He’s sweating. His eyes are bugged. “WHEN I FUCKING TELL YOU TO GET BACK HERE, YOU COME BACK!”
“Héctor, no! Stop! I’m pregnant! Is this how you treat the mother of your child?!”
He knocks Porsha to the floor.“I don’t care!”
“You don’t care that I’m carrying your baby?”
Héctor stands over Porsha. “No, you have it all wrong, you whore; I don’t care about you!” He then spits on her before tapping a small mound of cocaine onto his fist. After he snorts a line: “You’re fucking my security! Say the words. Tell me right now. SAY IT!”
“NO, I’M NOT! Why would you even think that?!”
High and paranoid, he yells, “When I come out to the driveway, I saw you talking to Ramon!” He grabs her up by her hair. “All my guys know not to talk to you. Not to look at you. You’re mine!”
As he’s roughing Porsha up, cops bust through their hotel door and go to arrest Héctor. They quickly rush to the closet and pull out heroin and cocaine. After the police got an anonymous tip from a friend, turned fiend Héctor refused to serve because he was out of cash, he called and ratted him out. The snitch even told them where Héctor kept his stash.
Héctor is yelling in Spanglish as he’s resisting the cop trying to read him his Miranda rights. “Héctor Leon Sánchez, you have the right to remain silent—”
“That’s not mine! They set me up! This is a mistake! You have the wrong man!”
The cop shouts, “Sánchez, we’ve been watching you!” as he escorts Héctor, and his drugs, out of the room. “You’ll get ten years for this!”
An hour later, Porsha is in the hotel lobby where she and Héctor had been staying when she runs right into Saint Kenny, who’s here for business. He catches her in his arms as she tries to stumble by him. “Hey, what’s wrong, pretty lady?”
Hysterical, she looks at him. “I am so sorry. I didn’t see you. Please forgive me.”
Saint Kenny stops her when she tries to walk off again. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”
“Me and my boyfriend had a huge fight; he was just arrested!”
Saint looks at the red slap marks on her face. “For hitting you?”
“No . . . he sells drugs. We only stayed here to lay low because things were getting so hot around our way. But he ended up bringing stuff here with him. Just so he could get high and sell to his friends. Stupid, stupid, stupid! Now, what are we going to do? What am I going to do? . . . I’m almost four months pregnant. I need help.” Porsha cradled her belly. “We came from Venezuela together two years ago. That’s where all of my family is . . . now I don’t have anyone. Without him, I will get evicted from our apartment and this hotel soon. He isolated me, so now, I don’t have any money or a place to go . . . wait, why am I telling you all of this?” She goes to walk around Saint. “I have to go!”
Saint Kenny stops her yet again. He looks at her. He takes his fingertips and lightly dries her tears. “She just might be perfect . . .”
Jonathan is standing right beside Saint Kenny, quiet, looking at Porsha like she’s a big pregnant goldfish in a three-gallon aquarium. When he finally speaks, he has nothing nice to say. “Wait, you were really serious about finding a girl? Hunny, I’m no man’s sister-wife, okay?”
“Jonathan, chill out. Damn! I told you why I have to do this.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t think that you were serious. Kenny, I’m here, with you, on official business for your new case, remember? We’re not here to save anybody or . . .” Jonathan scowls at Porsha. “ . . . take just any old thing back to Philly that we didn’t leave with.”
Porsha stands there looking at them as they talk and look back at her.
“Jonathan, I’ve been talking about getting a girl for months. So what . . . did you think I was bullshitting?”
“Kenny, come on now. Let’s-go! You don’t even know her.”
Porsha finally speaks. “Look, whatever this is, I’m out.”
Saint Kenny ignores Jonathan and smooths a strain of hair from Porsha’s face. “You don’t really want to leave, do you? You said you need help; maybe I can help you.” He grabs a napkin from the bar and dabs at her tears. “Now, stop all this crying and tell me your name.”
“I’m-I’m Porsha.”
“Porsha, huh . . . How about I call you Pretty Porsha?”
“How about I call her Miss Thing?”
Saint Kenny gives Jonathan a nasty look. “And how about you go get a shot so you can chill the hell out.”
Saint focuses back on Porsha after Jonathan starts to walk to the other side of the bar. Once he’s gone, Saint and Porsha stand so close they’re almost touching. “Don’t you worry, Pretty Porsha; everything from here on out is going to be just fine . . .”
Thinking back to the day they laid eyes on Porsha, Jonathan bursts out with, “Yep, I do know what that stupid arrangement is. Just like I know that my dude has a beard that he totes around Philly as his new bitch. That’s what I know, Kenny!”
“Jonathan, calm down. What is wrong with you lately? Why are you acting like this all of a sudden?”
“You say I was there when this shit first started with Porsha, which I was. But let me tell you something . . . I wasn’t okay with it then, and I for damn sure am not okay with it when I’m scrolling through Instagram, minding my own fuckin’ business, and see you and miss thing looking like a whole couple in my feed!”
“Jonathan, I’m an attorney just like Keenan and our dad. We have a big law family known all over this state. So yes, I have an image to keep up. Nobody knows what I do, and I want to keep it that way. And last I checked, so do you, Mr. ‘If I see you in the club, I’ll just say wassup and keep it moving.’”
As Jonathan starts to laugh on Saint Kenny’s screen, Porsha gets up, slowly walks to the bathroom door, and listens.
“I know, I know, I’m trippin’. Look, Kenny, I know you and her have an arrangement. You saved her from a fucked-up situation with her abusive baby daddy in LA, and in return, she saved you from letting everybody know that you’re really in love with me, not your new fake, plastic, pregnant Barbie.”
Saint Kenny looks over his shoulder slightly to ensure Porsha is not behind him as Jonathan continues.
“I know the story, Kenny. You need her, and she needs you. But I need you too. And I just . . . I don’t want this thing between you and her to get out of control or go any further than where it is right now.” Jonathan looks right into Saint Kenny’s eyes through the screen. “There is nothing else between you two, Kenny, just that bullshit arrangement.”
As Jonathan talks, Saint Kenny pulls a big diamond engagement ring out of his pocket for Porsha. He quickly looks at it and puts it away without Jonathan seeing it. He then smiles. “How can it be anything between me and her other than our arrangement when I’m in love with you, Jonathan?” Then when he hears Porsha in the other room, he jumps to the end of the conversation. “I have to finish getting dressed, okay? I’ll call you after my parents’ anniversary dinner.”
Jonathan is laughing. “Aw, shit, who getting cursed out tonight?”
“Later, Jonathan, I gotta go. I’ll talk to you in a few hours.”
After he ends the call with Jonathan, Saint Kenny walks back out to the bedroom, fully dressed, and so is Porsha.
He looks at her. “You look beautiful, Porsha.”
“Thank you.”
“You ready to go?”
“I’m ready.”
“Cool. Let’s roll.”
Sant Kenny and Porsha leave out of Saint’s condo all ready to go. Once they make it outside, Porsha gives Saint Kenny the oddest look as she thinks, I’m so confused right now, and so is he . . .
6
Lillian
Lillian is in their sleek contemporary kitchen cooking. She takes food to the solid rosewood table in the big traditional dining room when each homemade dish is ready. Lillian brought out fried chicken fried to perfection—black-eyed peas, candied yams, and of course, macaroni and cheese. She made turnip greens for the boys and collards for her and Naomi. But, she thought the hell with Keenan Sr. and the fried cabbage he loved so much, so she didn’t make it.
Before long, Keenan Jr., Taylor, and Kennedy Marie come through the front door. They all warmly greet Lillian right there in the foyer the minute she walks out of the kitchen.
Keenan Jr. wraps his arms around his mother. “Hi, Mama. Dinner smells wonderful.”
Lillian is loving when she hugs her son. “Hey, baby, and thank you. I’m making all your favorites.” She squeezes her eldest son tighter. “I’m so glad y’all are here.”
“Me too, Ma.” Keenan Jr. asks, “Where’s Dad?”
Lillian presses her lips together before answering Keenan Jr. about Keenan Sr. She is a breath away from cursing but stops herself. “He’s upstairs getting dressed.”
Next, it was Taylor’s turn to greet Lillian. “Hi, Mrs. Waters”— hug—“the table looks lovely.”
“Aww, thank you, sweetheart.”
As Keenan Jr. tends to their daughter, Taylor whispers to Lillian, “Are you okay? Last night before I left—”
Lillian quickly cut Taylor off so Keenan Jr. wouldn’t overhear them. “Shh, Taylor, not now.”
“But last night, I was really worried about you.”
Lillian doesn’t respond to her concerned daughter-in-law. Instead, she looks behind Taylor, ready for her grandbaby. “Kennedy, is that you? Grandma has missed you so, so much.”
As the little girl hugs Lillian’s neck after she picks her up, she says, “I missed you too, Grandma! I love you.”
“Grandma loves you too, baby.” Then, after getting all the hugs and kisses she wants, she puts the little girl down and holds her hand out to Kennedy. “Come with me; Grandma ‘gone put you to work, pretty girl.”
Lillian, Taylor, and Kennedy walk into the kitchen. The three lovingly work together, wearing aprons and big smiles. Even Kennedy has a little pink apron on that says Cooking With Grandma as she helps with the second batch of yams.
As they’re cooking, Naomi comes through the front door. She gives Keenan Jr. a big smile when she makes it to the dining room where he is. “I know that’s not my handsome big brother sitting there.”
Keenan Jr. is so happy to see Naomi. They hug. “What’s up, baby sister! I missed you.”
“I missed you, too!”
After greeting Keenan Jr., Naomi heads into the kitchen. She hugs her mother, Taylor, and then Kennedy before she starts to help with the food.
Saint Kenny is next to come through the door with Porsha behind him. They’re holding hands and looking ultra cute, wearing the same shade of blue.
Saint Kenny calls out from the foyer. “Hey, hey.”
Lillian, Keenan Jr., Taylor, Naomi, and Kennedy all head to the foyer to greet Saint Kenny when they hear him coming in. Everyone lights up as if the sun out of the sky has just come through the door when Saint gets there.
Lillian is up first. “Is that my other baby? Come here, Saint, and hug your mama!” Lillian throws her arms around her son.
“Hey, Mama.” Saint Kenny hugs Lillian the same as Keenan Jr. did. “I can smell dinner from the driveway, and it smells so good Ma.”
“Thank you, baby.”
Taylor and Kennedy hug Saint Kenny before they greet Porsha and her belly. They are all very loving to Porsha, as they’ve been since meeting her a few months ago. So far, Saint Kenny’s plan to pull the wool over his family’s eyes with Porsha and this whole story about him making a baby with her is working. As far as he knows, they’re all buying it, so he and Porsha are good.
When Naomi looks at Saint Kenny: “Yaass, my partner in crime is finally here. Hey, brother.”
Saint is so excited to see Naomi. “Hell yeah, I’m in the house! And damn, Naomi, you looking good up in here tonight, girl.”
After Naomi greets Saint Kenny, she checks out her little brother’s flyness. She approves.
“You look good too, little brother.”
Keenan Jr. laughs and throws his arms around Saint Kenny. “He better look good; he’s always at work. That’s why we can’t ever get a hold of him.
And Saint, don’t forget I’ll see you next week so we can work on your grant.”
“Aww, wassup, big bro, okay, cool.”
Though they come from a household of constant fighting with their parents, the three siblings have always gotten along excellently. They have a good relationship when they’re not hating on one another or talking about the other behind their backs.
Now that Keenan Jr., Naomi, and Saint Kenny are together, they lovingly banter back and forth, with Kennedy Marie in Saint’s lap, laughing and playing.
Lillian stands in the dining room doorway, enjoying her family, until she hears Keenan Sr. coming down the stairs. Then, her cheerful smile fades as she watches him enter the dining room. He walks right past her and greets the family sitting around the table. His voice thunders around them when he says, “Now the party can start; you’re all here! I’m so glad to see each of you.”
The family gets up to hug Keenan Sr., first his boys, then everyone else except Lillian. She was still standing there watching him until the oven timer went off. Lillian says, “I’ll be right back; the rolls are ready,” with Taylor getting up to help her.
