Over. (This. Is. Not. Over. #2) (23 page)

             
Damn, this could have been my life. Danny in the kitchen making macaroni and cheese, me at the sink picking the greens, Nicky in the living room being busy. This scene is perfect. The kitchen door is open, letting in a cool Carolina breeze, there are harbor bells ringing in the background, kids laughing as they ride their bikes down the street, women running with their family dog, men jogging with their ear buds in, an occasional truck passing by with bikes attached to the roof … peaceful. The Sea Pines Resort is an over-the-top, gated residence, surrounded by ocean that hosts its own coffee shops, diners, ice cream parlors, restaurants, bars, wineries and markets. Community. This is what Danny wanted. Why was I so against it? She wanted a family home where she could open the doors and windows, let a cool breeze in, drink fresh brewed coffee, sit at the kitchen island, cook, talk, laugh.

But I never even came home.

I walk to the coffee pot, take one of the empty mugs nearby and pour a cup. Black. No sugar, no cream. I wonder if Danny knows that.

             
“Alright Jon, you mash the cornbread up for the dressing.” Elise says to me.

             
“Okay.” I say as I walk to the sink to rinse my hands in Jax’s running water.

             
A family. This is what Red was reared to have; a successful black family, the kind of family she was raised in. Jax and Elise have been married since she was eighteen and he was twenty. They’ll tell you their story any day: Elise and her best friend Jane (Nicky’s godmother) were both accepted to Harvard. They went to visit in January of their senior year of high school. While at a campus party, they met Jax and Harry (Nicky’s godfather), who were both in their sophomore year at Harvard and members of its football team. They all happened to be from Baton Rouge, Jax happened to make Elise laugh, and Elise happened to get pregnant two months later on a weekend visit. Elise was married to Jax right after high school graduation, she and Jane moved to Boston to attend Harvard and Danielle was born that December. Twenty-eight years later, Elise is a Ph.D., Jax is an attorney and they’re still laughing. They’re living the life I now wish I could live. Granted, I didn’t want this life when I was younger, but now that I’m older, I see the value in someone knowing that you take your coffee with two sugars and no cream and in knowing that it’s your job to pick the greens.

There is dignity in being a good black father
and
a good black husband. Jax hasn’t lost that spark that makes him a successful attorney, just because he was a man who loved a woman, and decided to marry her after conceiving a child. At one point, I thought a wife and child would hold me down, deny me of my right to freedom. But, as I stand in this kitchen with Jax and Elise, I realize that what they have
is
freedom. The freedom to be happy and safe with someone you trust with your life. And as I dry my hands off before crushing this cornbread, I realize that now I may never have this safety, this happiness. This successful black family.

Yeah, I know that I have Marla now but this isn’t the life that she wants to live
. She isn’t the type to head to Hilton Head to spend the holidays. Why did it take a divorce for me to discover that the life Red always wanted is the same life I want? Regrets.

The sound of a
ding
knocks me out of my thoughts, momentarily stopping me from feeling pity for myself.

             
“Doorbell!” Nicky screams out.

             
“Thank you Nicholai.” Elise says as she heads to the door. And I just know, it’s Malcolm. I know it.

             
“Did you guys hear it?” Nicky asks.

             
“No, we’re deaf.” Jax says.

             
“Oh.” Jax looks to me and shakes his head. I laugh and continue to crush cornbread. My son definitely received Danny’s personality.

             
“So has Marlon found you a place in Boston yet?” Jax asks me.

             
“He has a few places in mind but they’re all in Roxbury. I’m thinking of telling him to look in Beacon Hill.”

             
“Good move, you’ll be next to your son.” Jax nods his head in approval.

             
“That’s what I was thinking.”

             
“Have you told baby-girl that you’ll be moving to Boston next year?”

             
“Not yet, I wanted to wait until everything was finalized.”

             
“But you’ll let her know soon.”

             
“Absolutely.”

             
“Good. I’ll wait for you to tell her then.”

“Thank you.”
.

“
You do good Skyping Nicky every day.” He nods his head in approval again. “I know you can’t be there but you make sure he sees your face. Good job on that.”

             
“Thank you.” I can’t tell you why but his
good job
means more to me than a thousand other accolades I’ve received.

             
“Who was it?” Nicky screams from the living room.

             
“A delivery guy. Donald.” Elise says as she walks back into the kitchen, looking at a box. “And for some reason he looked nervous as hell.”

             
“Who’s it from?” Danny asks as she breezes into the kitchen wearing a white fitted t-shirt and a pair of striped pajama bottoms. Her hair is pulled up into a ponytail with pieces of her hair coming down. Danny. She always did look beautiful in the morning when she thinks she looks a mess.

             
“No idea.” Elise turns around with the box in her hands and Danny freezes, looking at it. What happened? It’s a black box with a cream ribbon. What’s the big deal? Within a second, Danny regains herself and heads to the coffee pot.

             
“What is it?” Jax asks.

             
“Flower petals.” Danny says nonchalantly as she pours her coffee.

             
“From who?” Nicky says.

             
“I’m turning that off!” Elise screams back to him. “From who?” She asks Danny. Danny turns to her and gives her
a look.
Malcolm. “Well can I open it? The suspense is killing me.”

             
“Be my guest.” Danny says. I look at Jax and he’s at the sink ignoring the scene and only turns around when Danny plants a kiss on his cheek and says good morning. Good for him. Jax is completely allergic to Malcolm’s bullshit and is probably the only person in the world, besides me, who can see right through that smile and smirk he loves to wear. “Hey Jon.” She nudges me on the back and I can smell that clean scent she always has.

             
“Hey Danny. You doing okay?” I actually feel nervous right now. Can you believe that? I’ve been married to this woman, we’ve had a child together and I feel nervous.

             
“I am.” She says as she drifts into the living room to say good morning to Nicky.

             
“Watch the news baby-girl.” Jax says.

             
“Okay.” She says as she trails off. The news then interrupts us all with a special update. Halle Berry, at the age of forty-six, just had her second baby two months ago and the official pictures of her new son were recently released by her publicist.

             
“Oh, her ass ought to be shot.” Elise says. “Can you believe that Jax? Forty-six and she has the nerve to show us a picture of some baby she just had. I oughta punch her ass in the face. She’ll be damn near eighty years old at that little boy’s high school graduation, if she even lives to see the day. How selfish can you get?  I mean, she’s nearly a year
older
than me and she’s having a baby?”

             
“Elise, let the woman have a baby.” Jax says as he continues to wash the greens.

             
“Don’t make no damn sense.” I watch Elise as she looks into the box and then squints her eyes to look at what’s inside. She then places the box on the table before heading to the refrigerator and I can see that there’s a card laid on top of a bunch of petals. “Nicky, two eggs or one?” She asks.

             
“Two please.”

             
“And bacon?”

             
“Four!”

             
“You’ll get two.”

             
And even though I should care less about what that card says, even though I have Marla and Danny apparently has her own life with the devil, I can’t help but be curious about what that card says. I look back to make sure Danny’s not coming before I lean over and see that Blair’s sent her those flowers he always sends with a small note on top that reads:
I love you.

Malcolm

11:15 a.m.

             
It’s okay in the day, I’m staying busy.

Tied up enough so I don’t have worry where is she.

At least I'm not drinking.

Run around just so I don't have to think about thinking
.

That’s what Winehouse was singing last night, right? That’s the song Red’s cabbie was playing last night. Last night. Damn … Red.

“Get your head in the game!” I yell to Jacob as he, Nat, Cadence and I are on the basketball court in the back of
Jacob’s parents’ home, playing a game of 21 until the Celtics and Knicks come on. (By the way, while my mother has named her summer home Kingdom of Blair, Jacob’s mother has named her summer home Jacob Land which is a nod to Jacob, her only son and most beloved child. My mother and Jacob’s mother both married brothers and have always been in a competition of sorts. This competition has been both hilarious and extremely troubling at times.)

             
“Damn, I think I have a hangover.” Jacob says as I pass him the ball and he goes up for a three pointer. Got it.

             
“Good job.” I say as I walk over to him and pat him on the back.

             
“I’m dehydrated.” He leans over and places his hands on his knees, trying to breath.

             
“Poor thing, let’s go.”

             
Cadence brings the ball back and we’re back at it. He’s been particularly quiet since we arrived on the island which is unusual for Cadence. Just this morning, he stood in the kitchen and complained of being hot so Jacob poured a glass of water on him to cool him off. Cadence didn’t seem to notice. Under normal circumstances, that would have started a water fight of epic proportions (we’re big ass men but we’re also big ass kids) and would have ended with my mother demanding for us to grow up and reminding us that such behavior was unbecoming of a Blair. But none of that happened. He’s been distracted and quiet. That means only one thing: he knows something that we don’t. Unfortunately for Cadence, he never did have a good poker face. It’s the reason why Lola is always a step ahead of him.

Speaking of Lola, she’s been exceptionally belligerent. She’s going between the two homes we’re all staying in, walking in and out, telling everyone that they’re ‘hypocritical little shits’, randomly screaming out ‘fuck Cadence’, walking around with a fifth of vodka with a splash of orange juice inside the bottle, lighting
cigarettes and blowing the smoke in Cadence’s face (Lola doesn’t even smoke cigarettes), and ignoring my mother’s requests to ‘shut the fuck up’. This means only one thing: she knows that Cadence is up to something. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that Laura is at the root of all of this quietness and belligerency. Laura’s in Hilton Head, and I bet Cadence knows where she is.

             
Cadence throws the ball to Nat and then he and Jacob go to battle for it. So, while I have Cadence all to myself, I figure that now is as good a time as any to see what’s going on in his head.

             
“You’re quiet.” I say to him as I try to block him from getting the ball. “That only means one thing.”

             
“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” He responds, out of breath.

             
“Yeah you do. So, what did Laura say when you talked to her?”

             
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

             
“No?”

             
“Nope.” He does and I know he does because he’s being short with me. Typically Cadence is the life of the party but right now he’s playing ball like he has a chip on his shoulder. He’s much too transparent to be successful in this life.