The Second Jam Page 17

  I focused on Beatriz instead. She was the sweetest woman I’d ever known. She was selfless and I couldn’t believe she was surprising me.

  The blindfold slowly fell from my eyes. I could feel the smooth fabric of the bandana run down the length of my nose.

  A gasp fell from my mouth and from at least a dozen other mouths around me. Before the weight of Beatriz’s treachery fully descended, panic drove its blade into my chest. She’d brought me to dinner. Not just any dinner—family dinner with the Blacks. It was the first and last place I wanted to be at once. It was my heart and my hell together. Never had I imagined she would bring me here. I hadn’t even realized she’d connected the correlation between my name and the people she knew. The nerves and ligaments in my legs knew what to do and quivered with flight mode. My shifty eyes zeroed in on Scout, just as surprised as the rest of the pack. Her red hair was nothing compared to the surprised blush on her face. My parents both shrugged like me showing up wasn’t a big deal. They were such liars. The rest of the family were busy correcting their children or pulling them from the top of the tables. Victory and Veyda had their own language and their jibber jabber could be heard only above the pounding beat of my heart in my chest.

  The scene really sunk in. This was my family. These were my roots.

  You can trim off branches and leaves, but roots are forever.

  “I—I—didn’t…”

  “You didn’t know. We didn’t either.” Scout finished my sentence for me. She’d always finished my sentences for me. Those were the things we needed to sort out.

  “You did this.” I turned my nervous and my scared on Beatriz.

  “I did.” She didn’t look ashamed. I at least wanted her to look a little bit ashamed of hiding this from me. It wouldn’t have killed her to have some regret. “Deal with it.” This was why I loved Beatriz. No matter how broken she knew I was, she still treated me like a man—she made me feel like I didn’t have any troubles. She made me feel like I could conquer anything.

  I looked back to my family and my body refused to move, though I wanted it to fly the hell out of there.

  “Don’t just stand there, Cyrus Black. Sit down. You look like you haven’t eaten in weeks. Sylvia would’ve scalped us all for letting you thin down like that.” Aunt Reed had two huge bowls of pasta laying along her arm like she was a seasoned waitress while she pushed me into the closest seat at the table. But I couldn’t sit yet.

  I walked around to the other side of the table and my mom was waiting for me. There were no tears or rushed apologies. I would have to do all of that later, when it was just me and her. Not that I could ever apologize enough for not speaking to her and if it could be helped, I’d never do it again. I gave her the big bear hug we always joked about—she said I squeezed the life out of her and my dad got one too.

  There were things we needed to talk about that went beyond apologies.

  I needed to fess up about my issues.

  “He should do dreads with that hair.” Aunt Journey said to Aunt Storey. Those two were the worst gossipers.

  “Don’t encourage him. Can you imagine all that dirt in his dreads? He’d be like Zach de laRoch, mechanic.” Leave it to Uncle Falcon to compare me to the lead singer of Rage Against the Machine. “Besides, the ponytail suits him.”

  “No dreads. And no ponytail, either. The ladies like the man bun.” I’d chimed in without warning. The nervousness had left me almost as fast as it came. That’s the thing about our family. We could be gone a thousand miles or a thousand years, but once you were a part of our family, you were in, smothered and covered in love and acceptance. That’s the way Gram built it. She molded us into a unit that couldn’t be compromised or invaded unless we wanted to be—mostly by someone we wanted to induct.

  No one flinched like I’d expected them to. They laughed at my comment and then continued eating, the forks clanging on the bowls and the crusty bread tearing with a crunch. Our table had gotten bigger over the years with more and more cousins to feed. Uncle Nixon was next to me.

  “Imagine that. No one decapitated you—even a little bit. Not as bad as you thought, right?”

  Then he winked at me.

  He’d grown out a beard similar to mine, but fuller. Gram always told us that Uncle Nixon was the ultimate family man. He’d proved it over and over. There was one more face I’d refused to look at—my own sister, Cybill. I wasn’t the best example to her.

  I finally gathered the courage, after two big bites of angel hair pasta, and met her eyes.

  Regardless of the previous events of the night, I expected the hatred. Second to Scout, Cybill and I had confided in each other throughout our lives. I was almost a teenager before I realized that sisters and brothers were supposed to hate each other—and fight—and not speak to each other for lengths of time. Most people didn’t have constant relationships family. And cousins. And fathers and mothers and children.

  Cybill Black just winked her black raccooned out eyes at me, revealing a line of glitter just above her eyelashes. I shook my head at her and she smiled.

  Another thing I would have to repair.

  After sitting down, I reached to the right of me out of instinct, hoping to grab Beatriz’s hand just for support, but the chair was empty. I didn’t have to turn around or panic at her absence. That was Beatriz. She probably thought she would be intruding on this little reunion.

  She was a part of it now.

  If she was a part of me—she was a part of this. That’s the way the Black family rolled.

  “She snuck out on you. You gotta keep a better eye on your woman.” Scout sang the sentiment and she was right. I had to keep a better eye on her, but from a distance. She didn’t need me for one second.

  I took a deep breath and let myself go. All the anger and frustration—all the self-loathing and constant struggle to stay away was gone.

  I was home.

  Home was where I belonged.

  But it wasn’t quite right. Something was missing.

  And after dinner, I had to go get my girl.

  On my way out, Scout stopped me, and the rest of the family, now making their ways out as well, scattered like ants from gasoline.

  “We need to talk.”

  “Yeah. We definitely do.”

  She saw the hesitation in my eyes. No matter my poker face with everyone else, Scout knew.

  “Text her and let her know. She’s probably throwing a fit somewhere.”

  “No. Let her sweat. It will teach her to surprise me.”

  I was only half kidding. I knew she would worry, but I was selfish. I kind of liked her worrying about me.

  “Sit.” Scout pointed to a parking block.

  “You go first.”

  “I’m going to Brown in the fall. The Dean and the other teachers tested me after the cheating stuff. It was my fault, Cyrus. I got into your account and took the tests for you. I admitted it. I’m going on academic probation for the first year. Actually, I was allowed to go back to Tulane, but then I realized…”

  I interrupted her. “That you only settled for that school for me.”

  Her face fell. She looked out into the parking lot, emptying as we spoke. “It’s okay, Scout. I understand. It’s not like I didn’t know. You have always been destined for greater things. You’ve let me drag you down long enough. I gave you the password to get into my accounts at school. It was my fault as much as yours. You were just trying to cover my ass like you always have. It went on way too long. You’ve always been there for me.”

  “I didn’t want to abandon you.” She was crying now and there was no choice in me consoling her. She was my best friend. I tucked her under my arm and pulled her tight against my side.

  “It turned out to be a good thing. I’m learning to read—better—faster.” The words were meant to make her feel better—to let her know that I was okay on my own. I wasn’t six anymore and just like she didn’t need me to fight her battles anymore—I didn’t need her to be co-depe
ndent with.

  We both had some growing up to do—apart.

  “Really? How?”

  “Well, there’s this really hot blonde derby player who teaches me three times a week—sometimes more. It’s slow, but I’m getting it. I’m working really hard.”

  “Beatriz is a trip. You’d better not hurt her. She’s so good to everyone around her. She needs someone to take care of her for once.”

  I hugged her tighter. It was funny that my best friend’s best friend was the girl I wanted. “Don’t worry, Scout. I’m gonna take care of Beatriz. There’s nothing else I’d rather do.”

  She straightened up. “Well, you’d better get to it. We can talk about the past later. Call me sometime. Text me. Something. Damn, I’ve missed your smug ass.”

  “I missed you too, Scout.”

  I waited until she got into her car and left before heading back into the restaurant. I’d missed my time away from that place. It wasn’t just a restaurant or a place to eat, it was the brick and mortar of my grandmother.

  “Miss it?” Uncle Falcon sat at a table by himself, Mohawk in full effect and hit sleeves rolled up, revealing more tattoos than I remembered.

  “Miss it or miss her?”

  “Nailed it.” He pointed at me before scrawling something into the book in front of him.

  “You don’t have to come back full force, you know. Come to family dinners, ease your way back. Before you know it, you’ll forget you were even gone. You’ll be group texting with the best of them, getting more TMI moments than you’ve ever wanted.”

  “Think so?”

  He shrugged. “That’s the way it was with Mad. He came back and just filed back into place. We Blacks aren’t really good at holding grudges—at least within the family.” He paused for a minute and looked around. “You need money?”

  The Bank of Falcon Black was always open and they were generous.

  “I’m good for now. I may need you soon.”

  “What’s up?”

  “There’s an auto shop that I have my eye on. I don’t want it to fall into the wrong hands.”

  “Good deal. Let me know. In the meantime, I’ve got to get home. Victory and Veyda rode home with your grandpa and they’ve probably talked him into burning down the house or something. He’s been bored and lonely since…”

  He gathered his stuff and left it on the table. I knew what was coming next and I knew it would break me. Uncle Falcon never apologized for who he was and when he embraced me I knew it came from the heart. “Welcome back, Cyrus. You might be my brother’s son, but you’ll always be my boy.” Tears sprung in my eyes as I felt his embrace tighten. “Now go before I cry. Your Aunt Reed will make me talk about it—sharing my feelings and shit.”

  He was kidding, of course, he was the first one to express how he felt.

  “Yeah, goodnight.”

  I got into my truck renewed. The elephant had been lifted from my chest.

  Beatriz had saved me.

  As fast as I could, I drove over to Beatriz’s apartment and knocked on the door, but no one answered. I called her and the phone rang at least four times before a male voice answered the phone.

  “She’s at the hospital with her dad.”

  “What’s wrong with him? Is he okay?”

  The prick made a pfft sound. “It’s just another one of his spells. She needs to just put him in a home, I swear.”

  “What spells?”

  “Oh, you mean she didn’t tell you? You two must not be as close as you thought. I’ve known for years.”

  I ignored his pointed comment. All he had were comments. “What about her family?”

  I had to pull the phone away from my ear his voice was so loud. “You’re kidding me, right? You’re pathetic.”

  And with that he hung up.

  Now, standing on the stoop of her apartment I weighed my choices.

  No, with Beatriz there was no choice.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Beatriz

  “He cut his arm in two places, but it was minimal. We didn’t even have to use stitches. The doctor will be in soon to discuss his medication and what needs to be done next.”

  My dad was knocked out cold. He’d attempted to go to work sometime after I left Cyrus with his family. I looked down at the old man who’d aged twenty years in just ten’s time, smiling in his sleep like he’d really accomplished something.

  “He can still work, right?”

  The nurse, looking more like my mom than I wanted to admit, patted my hand. “I don’t know dear. Just wait for the doctor.”

  I felt around in my pockets for my phone, but it was nowhere to be found. I must’ve dropped it when Peter called me from the shop. Sitting there, I thought about why he was there and why he didn’t just call the ambulance instead of waiting for me.

  Who was I kidding? I knew exactly why. If Peter had his way, my dad would be laying there dead so Peter could buy me out.

  I paced the room for at least three hours when someone knocked at the door, but didn’t come in.

  Aggravated, I threw the door open and came face to face with the person I thought I might not see ever again.

  The person who I needed most that night.

  The person who could possibly hate me.

  I waved him in without a word and shut the door behind me.

  All I wanted was to bury myself in his embrace. I looked at him, looking at my dad with nothing but concern on his face.

  Please let him not hate me.

  “You know me.” He whispered.

  I did.

  I practically collapsed into his arms and found home.

  “Wanna tell me what’s going on?”

  “He has Alzheimer’s. It’s early, but he has his bad days. He drove himself to the shop and was looking for something and cut his arm. Peter was there. He called me.”

  Cyrus grabbed me by the arms and pulled back so he could see my face. “Why in the hell didn’t he call the ambulance?”

  “I have a good guess as to why.”

  “Bastard. So, he’s okay? Do we need to change the locks so he can’t get in and hurt himself again? He’s okay at home by himself?”

  He asked me at least ten more questions, but I stopped listening, already overwhelmed.

  “Cyrus? Let’s just wait for the doctor.”

  “Okay.”

  He dragged me over to the stiff sofa and pulled me down to sit next to him.

  “So, I owe you an apology and a thank you.” His lips moved over my hair.

  “An apology for what? I thought I was going to owe you an apology.”

  “Well, you might later. But right now, I owe you an apology for not introducing you to my family and a thank you for doing what I didn’t have the guts to do tonight.”

  I smiled, but didn’t let him show it. “So, it went okay?”

  “It was like I never was away from them.”

  I let that sink in. I’d hardened myself for the prospect of Cyrus being pissed off.

  I should’ve known better.

  “Cyrus?”

  “Hmmm?”

  “I already knew your family.”

  “Not all of them, though, right? Only the ones on the team.”

  I chewed on my lip and switched the position of my legs. “Remember when I got all that work done yesterday?”

  He flinched, but never let me go. “Ugh, that had my family’s name written all over it. I knew that was shady. But I trusted you.”

  Ouch.

  “It was your family. I’m sorry. And I lied to you about my dad. I wanted you at the shop to keep an eye on him. I mean, you’re a great mechanic and he needed some help anyway…”

  He stiffened. I knew I’d crossed the line.

  “Look at me, Beatriz.”

  I sat up and met his eyes. “What if something had happened to him and I didn’t know what to do? What if something happened and the ambulance came and I didn’t know to tell them what was wrong with him?”

&n
bsp; The unbidden tears rolled over my eyelids and rivered down my face.

  “I know.”

  He got up from the couch and though he was only a few feet away, I felt like he’d gone to another country. Bending over at the waist, I bowed over my knees and hid my face in my hands.

  Maybe all along it was pure old-fashioned shame that stopped me from telling him about my dad. Maybe I was just a control freak, hanging onto that one detail so he couldn’t have all of me.

  He could tell me about his reading, but I had hidden this from him.

  I wanted him to have all of me.

  I was tired of hanging on by myself.

  “You have to promise not to lie to me anymore and I promise not to lie to you either. That includes secrets. I don’t want that with you. I want real and raw and honest.”

  I couldn’t believe this man.

  And I knew that I couldn’t let him go. There was only one Cyrus Black and he was mine.

  At least, I hoped he would be mine.

  “I want that too. I want everything with you.” I looked over at my father who still had that damned smile on his face like the hospital was the place he wanted to be at most.

  I didn’t know what I was going to do about him. I wouldn’t put him in a nursing home, it just wasn’t who I was, unless I couldn’t take care of him anymore.

  “I think I need to move back home.”

  I was talking more to myself than anything else.

  “Should he still be working?”

  “I don’t know. I have so much to figure out. I should just quit thinking about the Hope Place and get a real job. If he can’t work, I know Peter has been gunning to buy the place. He’ll probably turn it into a strip club or something. Of course, it would be a strip club for pretentious assholes, which somehow is worse than a regular strip club. Ugh, my mother would turn over in her grave.”

  He chuckled, but this time I didn’t take harbor in its sound.

  “You sound—you sound like Scout.”

  “Come on. I’m down and out here and you’re gonna insult me?”