When Saint Goes Marching In (41 page)

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Authors: Tiana Laveen

BOOK: When Saint Goes Marching In
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Something else caught his eye. A piece of yellow legal paper, folded in half, lie on the table. Saint removed the large candle that was set atop it to keep it from blowing away and opened it. Xenia’s pretty, feminine handwriting scrawled across the page.

 

Saint,

 

You were sleeping so soundly I didn’t want to wake you. I ate some of the fruit you had out for breakfast this morning. The grapes and strawberries are delicious but of course, you already know that. I hope that you’ve looked inside the envelope to receive my response regarding the divorce. I also know you already knew at some point last night that I understood what actually happened. I’m sorry and I will spend the rest of my life letting you know that. Anyway, I need to take care of some things. I will be back home, honey, for good. Just give me a few days to get some things tied up. I know you have the Queen’s Conference coming up in a few of days. I saw the advertisement for it online and your name was listed as one of the Keynote Speakers. I’m very proud of you, Saint. Concentrate on that, and know that I’m back, your seeds are back and everything is OK. You will see me and your children very soon.

 

I love you,

Xenia

 

P.S. You laid it down last night! I can still feel you inside me. Damn!

 

Saint chuckled and held the letter up to his heart, shaking his head as he re-entered the house.

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

 
Xenia
paced back and forth. Her Brooks Brothers form-fitting pin-stripe black pant suit made her look like a force to be reckoned with. She turned her head slowly from side to side, causing her small dangling silver earrings to move to and fro. Her hair was pinned up in a curly afro bun and soft ringlets cascaded her cheeks. She sighed as she finally saw the magistrate exit the chambers.
“Mrs. Aknaten, this is disturbing to say the least,” Magistrate Connor said as she stood in front of Xenia, crossing her black robbed arms. “Are you certain you don’t want to proceed forward in a higher court of law? I had much respect for Congressman James Kellser and spoke to him several times over the course of the last six months. This is definitely his voice on this recording. I had no idea your husband was friends with him and thought so highly of him. I’m not surprised, however, that he was very active with the historic as well as modern-day civil rights for all.” She held up the CD.
“Yes.” Xenia monitored her words carefully. “They were friends and James was just trying to help a friend out.”
“Since this is California, Mrs. Aknaten, I don’t have jurisdiction in New York, but the crime happened here so we can extradite her…but I also do understand that your husband doesn’t wish for this matter to be publicized.” She shook her head. “I would like her to be disbarred immediately, but what we can do, as you requested, is to put her on a probationary period instead. She is very lucky you two don’t want to proceed further because she actually should be facing jail time along with losing her license forever. If I didn’t respect you as much as I do and didn’t want to make matters worse for you, I’d proceed without your husband’s consent, but I don’t believe that to be the best course of action considering all that you’ve told me. If you change your mind though, let me know. The statute of limitations wouldn’t run out for quite some time,” Magistrate Connor urged.
Xenia
nodded. “Thank you so much. I’m surprised you even remembered me.”
“Of course I remember you, Xenia. I invited you to come down and speak to the troubled teens that were coming in my courtroom, the girls in particular, and you dropped everything to do it, on more than one occasion. I could never forget someone as gracious and kind as you. You’re an inspiration to so many women and young girls. You grew up in the inner city, tempted to follow in the footsteps dictated by your surroundings but managed to stay away from it and now look at you.” Magistrate Connor smiled. “I just need you to sign some papers, Xenia, and I will take care of the rest. I will get this filed and sent off and you won’t have to trouble yourself with it anymore. What happened to your husband is absolutely horrendous and the way she acted so cavalier about it was despicable. As a married woman myself, I sympathize with you greatly,” Magistrate Connor said as she placed her hand on Xenia’s shoulder.
Xenia
nodded sadly.
“Thank you, Mrs. Connor. I appreciate this so much. I’d go to New York myself but I wouldn’t be able to get there until next week, at the soonest.”
“You wouldn’t need to go anyway, Xenia. Your attorney would have taken care of this but as you came to me instead, I will get it done a lot faster and I am not charging you a dime. I want to do this. I’d like to see her go down,” Magistrate Connor frowned. “Well, I really must go, I will keep you updated,” she said as she disappeared back into her chambers.
“Thank you!” Xenia called out and waved before walking away from the courthouse to the post office next door.
“Yes, I need to send this very special package to Queens, New York, please.”
 
* * *
 
 
 
 
 
 
“It’s about damn time!” Pam laughed as she happily helped her daughter box her things up. Hassani and Dakarai chased each other around their grandmother’s backyard as Xenia pulled another lightweight sweater out of the drawer and placed it inside the open container.
“Well, it’s nice to know how much you care, Mama!” Xenia laughed.
Pam smiled and got down on her knees near her daughter. She hooked a finger under Xenia’s chin. “I do care, Xenia. There are things that I went through with your father that I will never tell you. Once I saw that you had a good man and I learned to trust Saint, it was important to me that you never go through anything like that. He really loves you and he’d kiss the ground you walk on.” Pam smiled sincerely.
“I know,” Xenia said sorrowfully. “I’ve been away from him so long; it felt so strange at first being in my own house, in my own bed.” Xenia blushed in front of her mother.
“Uh huh, don’t play shy with me, Xenia.” Her mother tapped her cheek. “I knew when you didn’t bring yo’ ass back over here after a couple of hours what was going on…and it wudn’t no divorce. I was happy about it. You got that look, the pep in your step! Saint put it on ya!” she laughed, making Xenia even more embarrassed.
“He did!” Xenia burst out laughing. “It wasn’t that it was even better than all the other times because quite frankly, he has never disappointed me in that department,
ever.
He
knows
his sex game is tight,” Xenia laughed.
“
And truthfully, he really couldn’t improve on anything or get much better than he already is but, it was the love, the emotion, the intensity. I needed it, we needed it.” Xenia grabbed the tape and sealed the box. “We talked. Well, he talked. He didn’t want me to say anything about what happened. He just wanted to make things right.” Xenia reflected over the beautiful poem Saint had written and recited to her.
“OK Mama, I’ll be out of your house for good in a couple of days. The rest of this stuff should be fairly easy to pack up.”
Xenia
stood and dusted her jeans off. Pam followed suit and kissed her daughter’s cheek before exiting the small guest bedroom. Xenia looked around, taking notice of the collapsible crib that Dakarai had slept in. Hassani had slept wrapped tightly around her each and every night for what seemed like an eternity.
So many times, Xenia had thought about going to a hotel or renting an apartment so that she and the boys would have more room but she craved her mother’s love, even with the price that came with it. She needed to be around someone who loved her during that difficult time, someone who would say, “Somebody loves you, baby,” and mean it when they said it.
Saint, I’m as addicted to you as you are to me. I’m not going anywhere and we will never be apart again. I’ve lost too much valuable time. This time, I’m playing for keeps.
Xenia
walked out of the bedroom to go play with her sons, her and Saint’s pride and joy.
 
* * *
 
 
 
 
 
 
Saint pulled up to work in his new jet-black on black Lexus LX570 with premium leather interior and custom made spinners from Japan. The sign that once read "J.K." for James’ parking spot was replaced with "S.A." days before he had arrived.
Saint stared at it as he thumbed his fingers on his thick, ropey, black steering wheel. Instead of swelling with pride, sorrow encompassed him, ate at his nerves and gave him a fleeting nervous twitch. He reached for the door handle and got out of the car, closing it softly behind him. He rubbed his palm over his shirt, straightening out a wrinkle in the crisp white fabric he wore under a tailored black suit.
In the silence of the parking lot, the sound of his footsteps bounced off the concrete ground like a hammer on steel. As he approached the large, clear glass open doors of the bank, the mingled sounds of voices and general activity got louder. People milled about, talking to one another, until their eyes focused on the new motherfucker in charge. Him.
Silence fell over the entire area. Saint paused for a mere moment before walking on to the elevator. When he reached his floor, Saint walked into his old office only to discover everything removed except for a couple of random framed posters. The open blinds allowed the sun to filter in, highlighting recently disturbed dust in the air. Two large boxes labeled ‘MISC’ were set in the middle of the echoing, empty room.
Saint made his way swiftly down the hall. He arrived at James’ old office – the largest one in the entire building that boasted of a view not of the highway, but of lush green palm trees and a garden with assorted fruit trees and exotic shrubs and flowers. Saint sighed and put his hand on the matt silver doorknob, turning it slowly. He had not been inside James’ office since his death and this made him feel uncomfortable. Like a usurper.
He opened the door farther and stood wide-eyed, glued to the floor. The briefcase and laptop slipped out of his hand as he gazed around in wonder.
“Oh my God,” he said aloud. His desk was in the center of the room. Instead of it resembling an average desk, it was shaped like a beautiful, voluptuous woman with a thick, curly afro. Carved out of premium, high-quality wood, the attention to detail, though whimsical, was impressive.
Saint picked up his dropped belongings and closed the door behind him. The arms of the desk chair were made out of the same wood. The seat and back were of the finest Italian black leather with a three speed massager for his neck, back and buttocks. There was also an extended foot rest that provided foot massages should Saint ever feel the need. All of the walls were black except one.

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