Saved and SAINTified (25 page)

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Authors: Tiana Laveen

BOOK: Saved and SAINTified
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His father remained quiet and still as S
aint got up in his face.

“Go on then
… like you always do,” he hissed, letting true revulsion brew in his eyes. Saint took several slow steps away from him. “This time I’m done with you for good! This is fuckin’ whack.”

S
aint threw up his hands and walked away. As he came upon the pool, he kicked another chair and stormed off, brushing past Xenia, leaving her and his father standing there in the cool night breeze.

 

****

 

“Dad, I’m so sorry…” Xenia said, hearing Saint rush up the steps and slam their bedroom door so hard it seemed to shake the entire house.

The older man shrugged and shook his head. “
Xenia, Saint has always been bad tempered. I suppose he got it honestly. I was the same way, I still am sometimes. It served me no purpose though. Also, as I’m sure you’re aware, we’ve always had a strained relationship. Then, after his mother died, things got so much worse. Despite all of that, I love my son very much.”

“I know you do.”

“I just wanted to see you all and it is obvious that he doesn’t believe me.”

“S
aint can be a bit high strung at times. I rarely see him like this though, Dad. Did something happen I don’t know about? Something set him off tonight. This really isn’t like him.”

“Well
.” His shoulders slumped. “Maybe it really
is
just me…” He smiled sadly.

His expression
dejected and sullen, Xenia felt terrible for him. She wanted to wait until Saint cooled down and try to fix the situation, whatever it was. She was dizzy and drained from it, hating that she couldn’t figure out what had just happened. She turned toward the house then back toward her father-in-law. He stared so closely at her stomach, his brows bunched and he made a face she couldn’t categorize. It made her take a step back.

Okay, now I’
m suspicious. That’s just disturbing.

“Is something wrong?” she asked as she glided her hand protectively over
her belly.

H
er father-in-law swallowed hard. He seemed to be perspiring, despite the chill in the air.

“I’m just
… so happy for you and Saint having another child. Children are a blessing. If I could do it over again, I would have been a much better father to Saint.” He looked down at the ground. Xenia frowned, her sympathy awakened. She walked over to him, and hugged him. Her stomach brushed against him as she pulled him close and kissed him on the cheek.

When she pulled away, he looked white as a ghost.

“What … what’s wrong? Dad, are you okay?”

“I really must go.” He quickly turned away and sprinted across the yard, back to the guest house. 
He closed the door swiftly behind him, as if he were running from some invisible devil.

Xenia
shook her head in confusion. As she turned to walk back inside, she looked up high at the back of her house, toward her bedroom window. The curtains were swept open and there Saint stood, clutching the black, thick fabric in his grip. His tall, tense frame and angry scowl tingled the hairs on the back of her neck. If she didn’t know him, she would be afraid to go near him.

His eyes beamed down on her before he moved his gaze to the guest house.
Xenia sighed and entered the house, closing and locking the patio door behind her.

These two men, God bless them
, but they are both fucking nuts…

 

****

 

Two weeks later…


Baby, were you able to keep your dinner down today?” Saint asked as they sat in the cool den. Xenia looked over at the fire and rubbed her arms.

“Yeah
. Much better than yesterday.” She yawned. “I can’t believe how cold it has been the last two days. This is so strange.” She folded her bare feet beneath her on their gold and ivory couch.

S
aint looked closely at her and rose from the love seat.


It’s getting warmer in here. The fire should help.”

“It is, it feels good actually. Thanks for starting a fire.”

“Of course, gotta keep my sweetie comfy and cozy. He grinned. “You need anything, baby? I’m going to the kitchen.”

She shook her head while she continued to stare at the dancing flames.

Saint pulled at his silky dark green pajama pants that offered freedom and comfort as he walked from the den into the modern top-of-the-line kitchen. He opened the stainless steel refrigerator door and perused the choices, finally selecting the glass pitcher of honey lemonade Xenia had made earlier that day. He took it out and set it on the counter, thinking about her extensive morning sickness. Though he was certain she’d feel better soon, he hated that she’d been spending so much time in the bathroom. He looked down at his bare feet as he mused over his inklings.

I should have put on my house shoes.
This floor is too cold. Shit, the whole fucking house is cold. Damn storm front from the east.

He yawned and walked to one of the large
glass cabinets and removed a short juice glass. As he turned to set it down on the kitchen island, his cellphone rang. He set the glass down and reached into his pocket, reviewed the caller identification:

Pops
, 718-895-0121.

S
aint sighed and looked at his phone a long while before answering.

So now you want to call...

“Yeah,” he answered in a bland tone, cradling the phone between shoulder and neck while pouring the lemonade in the glass.

“S
aint, son, um, what time is it there?”

“Hello to you to
o, Dad.” He walked toward the refrigerator and returned the carafe.

“Oh, I’m sorry
, Saint. It’s just that ... it’s late and I didn’t think about that, you know, before I called. I didn’t want to disturb you.”

“It’s two in the morning.
Xenia had insomnia and isn’t feeling well, so we got up and are just relaxing until she gets sleepy again. I’m already up, but that isn’t the reason I’m angry.”

“Oh, does she have morning sickness?”

“We can talk about all of that later, Dad.” Saint frowned. “I was more disturbed by waking up the next morning to discover you were already halfway back to Brooklyn. You left no note, no notice, nothing.  You didn’t even call me and you didn’t return my phone calls. Your grandsons were asking about you.” Saint leaned against the kitchen counter and took a slow sip from the glass. The delicious sour sweetness ran down his throat, temporarily taking him out of the mounting anger fermenting inside him.

Damn,
Xenia makes some bomb ass lemonade ...

He took another sip as he waited for his father’s response.

“I know and  ...  I’m sorry. This has just been a rough time. You seemed very angry with me, and I just was not able to deal with that right then.”

S
aint felt himself become slightly woozy—the situation hit him like a ton of bricks.

Tomorrow is
Mama’s birthday. Shit.

“Dad, are you okay?”

“Saint, no, not really, to be quite honest.”

“Are you afraid to be alone?”
He quickly finished his lemonade and placed the glass in the sink.

“Not afraid to be alone, I just have so much on my mind, troubling things
...”

“Would it be okay
if we spent a couple of days together?” Saint stood in front of the kitchen sink, his arms crossed over his stomach and watched a plop of water trail slowly to the drain.

“I don’t w
ant to travel right now, Saint, but I think...”

“No
, I’d come to see you. I’d come home.”

A
brief pause.

“I need to speak to you S
aint, so that is probably a good idea, son, if it isn’t too much trouble of course.”

“No. The timing is fine, actually. We just finished
up a conference and my schedule is less hectic for the next few days. The minor stuff I can have someone else take care of in my absence. So, I can come tomorrow morning, okay? I’ll find an early flight, stay a couple of days and we can just talk. Is that cool?”

S
aint turned on the water faucet and rinsed his glass out. All of a sudden, his earlier anger and resentment lessened. Thoughts of his mother surfaced. He didn’t want her to see him fighting his old man. She’d be disappointed.

“Yes
, that’s fine. Please make sure Xenia is okay with this. I don’t want to disrupt anything.”

“She
’d actually be happy about it, Dad. She thinks you and I have some issues that need to be hashed out. She doesn’t like how our relationship is and she is worried about me, about us, period.”

And Mama would be so angry.

There was a brief pause during which he heard his father exhale.

“Well, okay. I will see you soon. And S
aint?”

“Yeah
.” He began to walk back toward the den.

“I
... I love you.”

“Okay. We’ll talk soon.”

Saint disconnected the call. He didn’t understand why he couldn’t say it back. He opened the door to the den to discover Xenia fast asleep. His mixed emotions engulfed him. His father rarely told him that he loved him, but when he did, Saint always responded in kind. Due to his father’s abrupt departure from his home, and all of the years of turmoil, everything began to come to a boil and he simply wasn’t feeling warm toward him, although he was sympathetic ... and he knew his mother was watching. He tried to be the bigger man during the conversation but after all, he was still human.

It’s time we settle this, Dad. I don’t want to fight with you anymore
...

 

****

 

“Mmmm, yessss baby ... damn...”

S
weat streaked its way down Saint’s face. He white-knuckled the kitchen counter as he lunged one final time. Xenia’s hot thighs wrapped snuggly around his waist, her head buried onto his chest. He brushed his lips softly up and down her neck and rubbed her back, then picked her up from the counter and placed her back on her feet.

Keeping her
eyes to the floor, she pulled her nightgown back down, then made her way to the nearby half bath across from the kitchen. Saint peered out the window to see the sun make its way down from the heavens. He snatched his boxers from the floor, and pulled them back up his long legs. With the back of his hand, he wiped the sweat from his face, then turned on the faucet. He lathered up a copious amount of soft soap, let the warm water run over his fingers.

Xenia
returned minutes later and sat at the island, running her fingers through her ringlets. He smiled and winked at her.

“I gotta get ready to get out of here, or I’ll miss my plane.
I’ll have to sneak in the boys’ rooms and give them kisses goodbye.”

“I’m glad you’re going
,” she said softly. “Something has to give. This isn’t healthy.”

“This shit has been going
on for years, Xenia. It’s nothing new. I don’t expect much, but, I know he is hurting right now. I don’t want him to be alone.”

“What about you?”

“Me? I’m good now that I got some body breakfast. Thanks, baby,” he joked, turning the water off.

“No, silly, you know what I mean.”

Saint hesitated, then walked toward her. “Yeah, I know what you mean.” He looked out the patio door. “Yeah, I miss her.” He turned back to his wife. “I miss her every damn day. I just try to get through it. You know, days like this, her birthday. I can still see her working at my grandparents’ Korean grocery store. Me and my homeboys would go in there sometimes after school. She didn’t want me to. She wanted me to get straight home and do my homework.”

A lump of emotion formed at his throat and his chest felt tight. His mother’s beloved face, her loving embraces and affectionate chidings—what would he give to have that once more? To have her back? To have the chance to talk to her and hear that dear voice again?

“She’d tell me to stop getting off the train to see her. She knew I wanted to get something to eat, too, and I wanted to feed my friends. So, she’d give me and my friends chips and pretzels, sometimes these little apple sodas, too. They were good. It’s funny.” He grinned. “I’d forgotten about those drinks. I’ve never seen them anywhere else.”

“Is the store still there?”

“Nah, it went down after her parents died. One of brothers, my Uncle Man Sik, tried to run it, but he was afraid of the area. He lived in Queens at the time and he just didn’t want to deal with it. Damn.” Saint shook his head. “I haven’t seen any of my uncles since I was eighteen or so. Anyway, my grandparents had built a rapport with the community so no one really messed with them. They’d been there since 1957 so when some shit popped off, they didn’t get robbed as much as the other places. They treated the customers with respect  ...  even though they hated my father. I imagine it was hard for him, though he never spoke to me about it.” Saint pulled out an island chair and sat across from Xenia. “You want some tea or decaf-coffee, baby?”

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