What Eyes Can't See, page 27
“Tell me.” I urged.
“I can’t. You’re opposing counsel.”
“Christ, Dad. Work with me.” He couldn’t start down the “coming clean” road and toss up a roadblock. Not after all we’ve been through.
He pressed his lips together, thinking before answering. “What I can say is that it’s good you’re not at Xervo anymore. Bad things are on the horizon. That’s why I encouraged them to lay you off. Client privilege prevented me from warning you, but I did my best to get you safe.”
I slipped onto my butt from my squat on the floor.
He got me fired… to protect me?
The news fit the man I’d known my whole life. But how did that match his behavior lately? Maybe it explained it all and I’d been too self-righteous to notice. I was so busy being angry at him, it never occurred to me that his motives were anything but nefarious. Being rejected by Xervo left wounds that were still healing. But I woke each morning elated to be free—of corporate work and family expectations. And as the case proceeded, I’d grown into a woman I loved. One relieved to have her father back.
As my mind rewrote the last few months, shame creeped in for not giving him the benefit of the doubt. But to be fair, he didn’t seem to want it. Never once did he give me an inkling he deserved my continued loyalty. But he had it now and would forever more.
“Dad, you have an employment discrimination case. You’ve been marginalized at your own firm because of your race. Given less choice assignments and called a janitor for fuck’s sake.”
“That’s the kindest of the terms they use…”
“My point exactly. This is actionable.”
“I’m so close to retirement. It’d be easier if I just fade into—”
“No. We’re not letting this go. You deserve compensation and your name off the door you paid for. If they’re going to run around being scum bags, they can ruin their reputations. Not ours.”
Dad smiled but it quickly faded. “I can’t. Everyone will know how they treated me. How I let them treat me. I won’t recover. Ever. How am I supposed to show my face in public after that?”
He rose from fire-tending to drop into his chair. Shaking his head, likely contemplating scenes of his future existence and not liking the early reviews. A year ago, I’d be there with him. Stuffing the nasty mess into a closet and barring the door with my back. But I’d changed. I was finally doing the job meant for me my whole life: holding corporations accountable. Who deserved justice more than my dad? Who endured outrageous indignity for so long?
I rose onto my knees, grasping his hands in each of mine to better face him. “We’re going to make this right, I promise. But first, I have to kick Xervo’s ass. It’ll be a good warm-up for reclaiming your name and getting you a big enough settlement that you won’t ever have to work again. Unless you want to, of course. Who knows? Maybe I’ll start a firm and hire you myself!”
He laughed. Deep, yet exuberant, the vibrations reached the recesses of my heart. I used to lie awake at night listening to my parents whisper together in the evenings by this very fire. An eruption of his laughter, paired with a chorus of Mom’s shushes. I’d bolt to my bedroom door, opening it wide to find out what was so funny. They’d say I’d understand when I was older and shoo me back to bed. It’d been so long since I heard him laugh, I’d forgotten how handsome he was when happy. Between mourning my mom’s death and losing control of his firm, I realized how little he had to smile about in recent years. But that was about to change.
“Me work for you?” Dad said with a curious lilt, like the idea was just crazy enough to be outstanding.
“Tomorrow could be the beginning. A warm-up for Washington vs. Washington. We’ll win, of course, then Leslie will write an article about our triumph.”
My storyboard set his head bobbing with approval. I got it whenever he read my report card and liked what he saw. In grammar school, I’d pace our apartment, waiting for him to come home from work, pouncing the second he walked through the door. He usually arrived late, and by then, I’d worked myself into an absolute tizzy of anticipation. I waved my grades in his face before he dropped his keys or removed his coat. That’s how desperately I needed his approval. His nods meant the world to me. And still did.
“I’ll think about it.”
“You do that.” I polished off my wine and stood to head out.
“Stay. We can have an early dinner,” Evelyn said.
“Next time. I have a big day tomorrow.” I loved that there would be a next time. And a next, and a next. I kissed her cheek. “I can’t wait for you both to meet Sebastian. He’s amazing.”
And he was, despite his middle-of-the-night nonsense. My afternoon with Dad showed what a gift forgiveness could be. My over-active outrage at Sebastian from the night before had already dissipated.
Dad cleared his throat, squirming uncomfortably in his chair. “About Mr. Kingsbury…”
“He told me, Dad. Don’t hold his past against him. I think you’ll love him and his feisty mother, Glenora. She reminds me a lot of Mom.”
“That’s saying something,” he said.
“Yeah. It is.”
Chapter 42
Sebastian
“Sebastian!” Mo’s mom pulled me into the same tight embrace I’d enjoyed since age seven. Her argument with my mom after Mo’s beat down did nothing to dull her affection. Knowing that eased my nerves. A little. They’d been on edge since Barbara walked out this morning and hadn’t let up. It prompted me to handle my outstanding business as she geared up to handle hers.
“Who’s there?” Judge Peña hollered from the kitchen. He stood over Mo’s son, who scribbled in a spiral notebook.
Homework.
A taskmaster, as always. And I knew what came next.
“Still a lawyer?” he hollered over.
“Yes, Judge.” I pulled away from Mo’s mom, her exasperation clear.
“Sorry. I’ve asked him a thousand times to stop,” she whispered.
“Sebastian’s a lawyer like me,” the judge continued and slapped little Mo on the shoulder. “Keep at those books, young man, and you can be a lawyer, too. Make your papa proud.”
I tried to smile, but being the focal point for the room’s attention made my skin itch. “Mo home?”
“In the back. You know where.”
I started toward Mo’s bedroom, down the same long hall where his mom told us not to run as kids. Her collector set of Jesus plates lined the walls on both sides, each marking Stations of the Cross. She faithfully added one every year until the company went belly-up. Missing the last few, she substituted picture frames with each plate’s photo.
Some things never change.
But a big one was about to.
In moments, I’d be done with my gangland debt. I’d be free from everything keeping me tied to a life I hadn’t wanted for years, if ever. Standing in this hall, I realized I didn’t just regret getting caught. I hated who I used to be. Someone soaked in machismo, more concerned about losing face than crushing someone else’s. If I backed down, what would my boys say? It was all bullshit.
Weakness was going along. Weakness was acting with malice instead of being brave enough to walk away. Last night with Barbara, I pulled the same macho bullshit. But I didn’t want to be that dumbass anymore. The guy pacing in an unlocked cage, too petrified to escape.
I looked back toward the living room. I marveled at this hallway as a kid. I’d never seen one that long outside of school. But at 8 feet, the narrow walls constricted the man I’d become. This life no longer fit.
I knocked on Maurice’s closed door.
“Come,” his voice said.
The moment I entered, Mo’s eyes narrowed. He slammed his open dresser drawer. “You have a lot of nerve coming here. To my home where my kid—”
“Chill out.” His anger spiked quicker than expected. “I only came to give you this.”
I reached into my jacket for the cashier’s check. Good as cash. The moment he took it, we were square. I extended my hand, but he looked at the white envelope with suspicion.
“What’s that?”
“I’m paying you back.”
“Beating your ass. Bro, that’s free!” Mo barked a laugh while taking a seat on his bed, which squeaked its hearty amusement.
“Take the damn check, funny guy. It’s all there. Every penny you paid for my school. We can go our separate ways.”
“King…”
“No more King. No more titles. No obligation. On either side.” I wiggled the paper in his face until his annoyance made him grab it.
Mo tore it open, discarding the envelope’s gaping carcass on the bed with the same concern he showered on my bloody body in the garden. Instead of being grateful, he stared at the check with an expression I struggled to decode. Like he warred with himself. More than once, he held this money over my head, claiming I owed him. Maybe he didn’t like the idea of setting me free. My beat down aside, being under Mo’s protection meant something. To me and the neighborhood. Debts held power and repaying mine meant losing it. But I was ready to take my chances.
Instead, he did the last thing I expected. He tore the check in half.
“What the fuck!” I yelled.
“King…”
“Goddammit.” I snatched the torn check back, the split separating the word hundred from thousand. Unusable. I’d have to go get another one.
I held the edges together like they’d magically reunite. “I’m getting another one and you will take it. I never should have accepted my cut in the first place.”
“Will you shut up for a second? Damn motor mouth.” He shifted closer, glancing at his closed bedroom door before speaking low. “There never was any money.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“There. Never. Was. Any. Money.” Mo emphasized each word, but that didn’t make them any easier to comprehend.
“Hold up, that can’t be. I saw stacks of cash.”
He sighed, hipping both hands and looking sideways to avoid meeting my gaze. “I cut the blow without a scale. I put too much in each bag and charged a fraction of what it was worth. I had barely enough to pay back the supplier. But I moved it so fast, he gave me more. By then, I gained a reputation. I led the crew and everyone said I’d arrived.”
Mo made me do it.
I couldn’t say no.
For once in his life, Dante told the truth. He’d lied so much, fact and fiction blurred. Especially when he accused someone I trusted of selling me out to the police.
“You trapped me in that alley on purpose,” I said not asking. The facts screamed. But I still needed him to come clean.
“I had no money to give you. My best choice was to get you out of the way.”
“So you got me locked up and took my place?”
“What choice did I have? Tell you I fucked up? Besides, you were bound to get cuffed. Way too honest. I just sped up the process. By the time you were out, I was rolling. No way I was giving that up. You wanted to get clean, remember? Way I see it, we both got what we wanted.”
History rewrote itself, random pieces sliding into place to show a clear picture: Mo the rat. The first and likely only time Dante told the truth. Mo’s betrayal burned deep. But one part of his story didn’t add up.
“Wait. My cut paid for college and law school. Where’d that come from?”
Mo pressed his lips tight. But I wasn’t leaving this apartment without the truth. What he said next would change the course of my life.
I crossed my arms.
“Shit. I promised I wouldn’t tell.”
“Who?”
“My uncle.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I’d lost all patience with Mo’s games.
“My money wasn’t exactly liquid. When you came asking… I couldn’t get coin from thin air. I had no choice.”
“You borrowed money from the Judge?”
“No. He paid outright for your school. All of it.” Mo shrugged a “my bad” like a kid who left his bike out in the rain. Something trivial and easily fixed. This didn’t qualify. He screwed up a drug deal so royally, his uncle had to bail him out. His underworld nightmare became a gift beyond my wildest dreams. Drug money didn’t bankroll my education. Breath left me, and I leaned on the wall to steady myself.
Mo poked a beefy finger in my chest. “You were the first and only recipient of the Judge Peña Scholarship Fund.”
My mind went to the man in the kitchen with Mo’s son. The same guy who’d tutored me for hours. Who believed in me enough to force me to do homework and study for tests when Mom was too exhausted from holding two jobs to keep her eyes open. He also warned me to stay clear of Mo’s dealings after juvy, chasing me off the corner with the other moms. That same man punched my ticket to college.
Still a lawyer?
How many times had he asked that stupid question? Hundreds? Thousands? I’d laughed and smiled at the beginning. I made something of myself and appreciated the attention. But after years, it became agony. When I saw him coming down the street, or playing chess in the park after shooting baskets, I’d run the other way. Hell, I’d walk blocks in the wrong direction to avoid hearing those three words.
Meanwhile, shame shadowed me at school. I’d sit in lecture halls scanning my peers for signs of recognition. Evidence they saw my gang history tattooed on my face like Dante’s tear. Even these days, I played the part of upstanding citizen, holding my head up, thinking myself better than Barr. But I was a professional crook who paid for school with drug money. Wrangling with that conflict left my insides tied in more knots than Mo’s crew ever could.
But it was a lie.
I wasn’t a criminal. Not anymore.
I should be relieved. But part of me was pissed as hell. At myself for being a clueless fuck, at Mo for foisting a lie on me for so long. Even now, I couldn’t avoid the truth. All I’d done as a kid made my current life possible. My gang ties paved the road for the lawyer career I now enjoyed. Whether drug money or Judge Peña, my past life made my current one possible.
“Why would he pay all that money?”
“You had no father, and he had no son. No one to use his savings on.”
“What about you? You’re blood?”
“He couldn’t exactly give money to the leader of the biggest illegal enterprise in lower Manhattan. He loves me, but them’s the facts.”
Mo reached an arm out and squeezed my shoulder. “The dumb fuck is super proud of you. Loves the idea that the kid he helped in that kitchen followed in his footsteps. I wasn’t going to. You bring him honor and that means everything. Judge won’t shut the fuck up about you. Drove me so nuts I—”
Our eyes met. The last piece falling into place. The reason my beat down almost left me dead.
“I thought it felt personal,” I said.
“My own kid! He sat at the table after school saying that he wanted to grow up to be like Uncle Sebastian. I just… I had to do something.”
Mo was a proud man and a leader. In his own way, Mo kept food on countless tables in this community while holding the rival hounds at bay. He even ran some legit businesses on the side that made food easier to find in an area no one else invested in. To have his son idolize another man strained his patience. Cruel as it was, I understood.
“Guess this makes us even, brother,” I said.
“Yeah, it does.”
We embraced, squeezing tight before thumping backs and bumping fists.
“No word to the Judge. Promise?” Mo pointed at me.
As I passed through the kitchen, the Judge looked up from his work with Jr. and smiled.
I hollered over to him, “I’m still a lawyer.”
Chapter 43
Barbara
After leaving Dad’s, an immense weight lifted. I wanted to call him over the last many months. Despite everything, I’d missed sharing my triumphs and hearing his sage advice. His absence left a void I only now acknowledged. But a new chapter was starting for both of us, and I couldn’t wait to reconnect with Sebastian. I’d yet to reply to his texts, and he probably assumed the worst.
I shifted my grocery bags to unlock my building’s front door. Hipping it open, the heavy metal slammed shut behind me as I mounted the stairs for my hike to the third floor.
Leaning over the rail, I checked for light under Nikki’s door. We chatted in the evenings most days, she coming up or me going down. When living with Rebecca, I took the everyday female contact for granted. With Joe and Dad, I worked late so often, I seldom saw either at home. My challenging work schedule took priority, and I always presumed that’s what success demanded. But life is too short to accept what is, as if it must always be. The people I loved deserved me to be more present, and I pledged to do better.
On the second floor, I passed through what I’d named “Nikki’s Rainbows.” The new glass sconces reflected off the freshly painted gray walls, creating a dazzling shower of reflection. A magic veil between the outside world and our apartments within cleansed me as I moved across the landing. I chuckled to myself, but crazier things were possible.
I’d come so far in such a short time. Who’s to say I wasn’t guided by powers beyond my understanding?
As I crested the top step, I found Glenora placing a white grocery bag on my doorknob. I didn’t need to ask how she got in. Any apartment she buzzed would let her in. She was that beloved. Her giving nature reminded me of my mom. The mothering I’d missed for so long returned in a new form.
“Leaving me a present?” I said, jingling my keys.
“Oh, you’re here. I found a sale on that over-priced dish soap you use. The blue kind? Two for six, so I picked you up a package.”
She stood with her cheek outstretched, waiting for me to kiss her, which I gladly did.
“So sweet, thank you. Want to come in?” My bags crinkled as I one-armed them to unlock my apartment door.
“I have to get home and start dinner.”
“I have plenty for both of us and would love the company, if you don’t mind.” I entered and left the door open for her to follow.
