The Fight Within (40 page)

“Really? Why’s that?”

“I loved her with all my goddamn heart, but I had fears that I was messing up, would never be good enough. And there were signs, Treasure.”

“There usually are…”

“There were little signs that she didn’t think I fit the bill, but I chose to ignore the truth. Hearing her on the phone only confirmed what I already knew. I was mad at her, but also mad at myself for trying to convince myself that it was all in my head. I knew better than that. I’m one of the most realistic bastards you’d ever meet!”

She burst out laughing and nodded. “I’d have to agree with you there.”

“I know truth from fiction and I don’t believe shit anyone tells me. I need some sorta evidence, but when it came to love, it was different I guess. Love being blind is so damn true. But you know what? It was even deeper than that, I believe. There’s something I’ve wrestled with for a long ass time, on top of all of this.”

“Layers, huh? What?”

“I always picked women that I thought were better than me in some way. I even did that shit with you.” He looked over her shoulder, at her face.

She offered a sad smile.

“Because then, I felt important – like, ‘See, I pulled this good lookin’ chick and she’s confident, got a good head on her shoulders, a great job and all that other shit’ but not once did I stop and say, ‘What about you, Sean? Is she good enough for YOU?’”

He paused, took another deep breath.

“I never had a problem getting women, all sorts of women…but I was always on some challenge shit, and didn’t even realize it.”

“I don’t doubt that. You’re very attractive and in some strange, rude way, charismatic at the same time. However, success isn’t just your vocation, Sean,” she said, a bit of sternness in her voice.

“Oh, I know that now, baby. Boy do I know it. But sometimes what we hate becomes an obsession because we
really
love it, we’re just too ashamed or in denial to admit it, ya know? I wanted money. I wanted a woman to love me for me, though. But uh, yeah… it was time to stop doing all that shit, and work on
me
for a change. That’s when I decided to enroll back in school. I did it for
me
this time. Not for anyone else. The second time around, I did the shit right.”

“You went to school for her?’

“Yeah…I mean, you know, I like studying actually so it wasn’t like it was some big sacrifice. I like reading and learning. I’m a fast learner; I just had never really applied myself in the past in that area. It wasn’t an interest that came naturally, like sports. I’m almost finished with school now, as you know. I’ve done really well this last semester, too.”

“I’m so proud of you. Sean. But there is something I want you to know. If you still remained a trash collector, I’d
still
be proud of you, and love you just as much, baby.” She turned for a spell to look at him with sincerity in her big, beautiful dark eyes, then resumed her position.

“Thanks, baby and I know you mean that. I want more than the Sanitation Department can give me though. I want you to have the
best
from me and the best from me is to always have goals and try to reach them. I’m gonna have my degree, hopefully get a job in the field I want, and leave the garbage behind.”

“In more ways than one…”

“Definitely.” He kissed the top of her head. “
Most
definitely, and I’m so glad I found you in the process…found a diamond amongst my mess. You sparkled bright and led the way. Thank you for that.” He looked into the glistening waters, shimmering from the city lights that kissed the waves just so. His eyes glossed over and he swiped the emotions away.

Damn, it felt good to be free…

‡

“N
ah, I ain’t
hungry.” Brian twirled the toothpick around and around in his mouth like an umbrella on its side.

Sean suppressed the urge to chuckle.

Is he whittling me a wooden duck for Pioneer Day? What the fuck is up with the damn toothpick? Here we go…

“But you said you were famished while on the phone earlier today, and you asked what I was cooking for dinner,” Treasure stated between gritted teeth, giving the kid a warning to straighten up and fly right. She paired the shit with a smile to try and disguise her annoyance, but Sean wasn’t fooled.

“I suddenly lost my appetite…” The little punk sneered as his eyes narrowed on Sean, who sat at the other end of the table, cutting his salad into smaller pieces to devour, and checking out the teenage terrorist intermittently between lettuce dissections.

The tension poured over them thicker than pea soup and Treasure was about to blow her damn top. It was written all over his sweetheart’s face, but she continued to play the game, remain poised in front of company. Asia, the pretty young lady with a killer smile and warm nature, reached out and opened the fresh bottle of Ranch dressing, then poured a generous amount over her chopped Romaine, so much so, barely any lettuce showed through at all.

You want some salad with that ranch? She seems like a nice kid…too bad she’ll probably O.D. on dressing and miss the entire showdown between me and her wood-working brother over here pretending to be some lumberjack, or maybe cowboy. Howdy partner…

I’ve seen so many pictures and video clips of these kids, I feel like I know them already.

“Mom says you’re Irish.” The girl smiled up at him, her expression genuine and her friendly disposition leaking through her words.

“Yeah, I am.” Sean offered a quick wink, lifted his glass to his lips and took a hearty mouthful of his cream soda. He hated cream soda, but he wasn’t going to make a fuss.

“We had an Irish celebration at our school this past St. Patrick’s Day. Mrs. Bergman talked all about St. Patrick and Irish traditions.”

Sean nodded, listening intently to the young lady’s words. “I take it Mrs. Bergman is your teacher?”

“Yes, my social studies teacher.” Asia plucked her glass of chocolate milk from the table and took a generous sip, then returned it.

“Did your teacher tell ya that St. Patrick actually wasn’t Irish?” He smiled proudly as he took another stab at his lettuce, ready for the conversation that would push wooden soldier boy out of the way, no matter how much he eyeballed him.

He thinks he’s the nutcracker… You’re not crackin’ my nuts, Jack…

Asia gasped, as if her entire existence was now pulled into question, causing Treasure to lightly laugh at the theatrical gesture as she took a taste of her seltzer water.

“No, she didn’t,” Asia finally uttered.

“Here’s what happened.” Sean leaned in a bit closer. Making full eye contact with the girl, he placed his hand flat on the table. “He was a slave in Ireland, okay? At the time, he was about the same age as Brian here, about sixteen.” He pointed at the boy.

…I hope he gets a splinter…

The person in question didn’t look up, but his lips twisted so far to the side, it seemed they’d soon leap off his face and run down the center of the table in protest.

“He actually came from Roman Britain, also known as Britannia. Most scholars say he brought Christianity to Ireland. In any case, he escaped from slavery then came back as a missionary. He died on March 17
^th
, that’s why St. Patrick’s Day falls on the 17
^th
.”

“Cool! She never told us any of that!”

“Well, she should have. That’s the most important part.” He offered Asia a smile and could feel Treasure’s approving glare upon him.

“What is your deal, man?” Brian interrupted, crossing his long, thin arms over his heaving chest and leaning back in his seat, far to the side like a damn gangster ready to do important business. “You think you can grab my mom’s trash and
her
, too? You think you can sweet talk my sister here, give her some Irish trivia ’nd crap, and be in good with the family? This ain’t no game, man! We ain’t playin’ Bingo, Monopoly, none of that! Naaaaah bruh!” He shook his head and waved his hand in the air, causing his long, unruly hair to sway a bit as he maneuvered around in his seat. “You’re a fuckin’ clown!”

“Brian!” Treasure’s eyes bucked as if she’d just witnessed a car wreck. There was no doubt from her tone and expression, she felt implausible rage and mortification. It manifested in the way she now gripped her napkin, possibly creating an internal mélange of resentment for how her child was behaving.

“We talked! You promised to be on your best behavior. If this is your best, then the Devil had a new run for his money.”

“It’s okay, baby,” Sean stated before leisurely rising from his seat. He placed his beefy palms on the table, causing the beverages to shake ever so slightly, as if a tremor were moving the earth right under their feet. He glared down the other end of the table.

Bring it, Pinocchio… I don’t want to be a real boy. I’m an adult, Brian, and you’re messing with the wrong grown ass man, kid.

“Baby? She isn’t your baby!” Brian corrected, his disdain glazing each word that trundled off his sharp tongue…

*

“Brian, that’s it!
Apologize and go to your room!” Treasure tossed her napkin on the table, refusing to let this go on one second longer…

Treasure couldn’t believe her damn ears. The perfectly planned evening was turning into a dining disaster right before her eyes.

“Treasure, honey,” Sean tossed her an uneven smile, “I’ve got this.” He swiped the bridge of his nose purposefully, then dragged his long, thick fingers down his well-shaped lips. He cocked his head to the side and studied her son, as if he were some pitiful little thing.

“Brian, you’re being really disrespectful. Your mother cooked this nice dinner, invited me over, and you’re making all kinds of judgments and coming to all sorts of conclusions. You shouldn’t. You don’t know me.”

“You don’t know me either, bitch ass nigga!”

“Brian!”

“Try
me
, mothafucka!” Brian screamed out as he glared at him, paid his mother no mind. He threw up his fingers and made strange gestures like a crack head trying to throw up gang signs in Chinese.