A/N: Hey folks, in order to meet my Thanksgiving deadline and deal with work I have to write this in parts (two, maybe three).
Either way I promise it'll be worth it.
And if no-one ever told you, "assholery" is an S.A.T. word.
As always, enjoy x
Chapter 43: Murky (Part 1)
A week later, Wednesday 23rd November 2016, 11.06am, Turner Hall, Emory University
After a week on the outs of R.U.M.M., the humiliation of being shut out of a group he gave his time, energy, GPA and money to still brought Brock down, and his method of coping involved a lot of duvet time and noodles. It was the day before Thanksgiving, and Taylor and his "muzzlum" girlfriend were having a pillow fight while play-arguing about movies he'd never seen. The group told him that lukewarm people like Taylor were traitors against God, guilty of sullying the religion through their association with 'them'. And 'them' was always a scary group that plotted to destroy the Earth and take their sacred religion with them. But watching them together made him envy that kind of genuine connection, friendship even. When Zahra went down the hall to say goodbye to her friend, Brock realised things weren't as clear as he once thought they were. Taylor knew he couldn't do anything about the cult or his pathetic grades but he figured no one should have to stay on campus for Thanksgiving. "Here. Use it, don't use it. Whatever."
Brock was so speechless and ashamed by the one-way bus ticket to Little Rock he couldn't even say 'thank you'. Just seeing Taylor throw his duffel bag over his shoulder as they left for the airport was enough to confuse him further about the group he initially joined for friendship with 'like-minded guys'.
4.52pm, Evelyn's Condo, Williamsburg, Brooklyn
From CeCe's head-down approach to peeling sweet potatoes and Reggie's scowl, Evelyn and Gregory knew both mother and son were in a bad place. Gregory decided to distract the seething 20-year-old by putting together the metal bed frame in the guest room. Joss' mother wasn't one to mind her own business especially when in 24 hours, her home would be host to the New York branch of the family, small though it was. "How's your class going?" She asked, licking buttercream frosting off the back of a spoon.
Cece sighed because it felt like a prison sentence, having to attend a class where watching car pile-ups and hearing testimonies from drunk driving victims' families was routine. "I guess it's supposed to make us feel guilty, and it works. But I don't belong there. I wasn't trying to hurt anybody that night."
Big Reggie was still as present as he was absent and Evelyn didn't know what it would take because it seemed even Tasha Cobbs couldn't break that chain. "You need to date."
"Not you too, Aunt Ev."
"You do." She insisted because she was right. And she'd noticed CeCe had lost 10 pounds on the Reggie Diet, too sick with herself and him to eat properly. "There's a whole world of men out there, looking for love in the right places. Like the grocery store, or the market, or the museum, or a sports bar, a nice one."
CeCe smiled because she appreciated her efforts. "You know I really thought it'd be different this time. And Reggie…" She shook her head because Reggie's coach called to say he'd been belligerent in the locker room lately, not with his teammates but with him, and that was a problem. Without football, there was no scholarship, and even though Reggie was smart enough to transfer she feared how he would cope without the structure and male influence in his life if it all came to an end. But Aunt Ev was a blabbermouth and it wasn't worth telling her something she'd just repeat to Joss and Tullie and whoever would listen later. "He's unfocused."
"Girls?" Evelyn thought the apple didn't fall too far from the tree in that department.
"Something like that."
6.14pm, Lower Manhattan
After he'd dropped his duffel bag, raided the fridge, showered and crashed out on his bed, Taylor was ready to re-join society as a native New Yorker with unusual plans. But before he got the chance to meet up with some friends, John took over his phone and sent him an encrypted address that led his Honda Civic to an old converted warehouse. Since the last time they saw each other was in the midst of trouble and confusion, John was more than happy to see the light back in Taylor's eyes. "Grasshopper."
"Sensei." There was no hugging, just knowing smirks that there was trouble was ahead. "What'd you do?" Taylor asked, wondering which element was involved.
"Me? Nothing." Taylor put on a cap, covered his ears and waited as John opened a briefcase revealing something he'd only seen in a video game.
"She's gonna kill us." Taylor said, oddly excited about letting off steam with a gun so powerful it would give his true skill away.
"Probably." John put his hand on his shoulder. "I've been waiting for this day."
It wasn't like him to get sentimental. "What's it called?"
"A HK MP5 and that's the grenade launcher. But don't worry, I already paid for the damage."
"You're a stand-up guy, John." Taylor said casually, stopping him in his tracks.
"A what?"
"You know…decent. Is this my jacket?" Yeah Son, yeah, it is.
Thanksgiving Day, Thursday 24th November, 11:56am, St. Luke's Methodist Church, Brooklyn, New York
When the cleanly shaven Rev. Harris gave his sermon on 'Every day is a Day of Thanks' and Gregory accompanied a local reggae band's rendition of 'Give Thanks with a grateful heart', Taylor felt at home in a come-as-you-are environment, not the break-you-down-to-never-build-you-up' situation Brock was in. And even though his assholery was hard to live with, Taylor still prayed his roommate would be alright…and survive the encounter with his parents when they found out. "And so, as you are loved; love others. And as you are blessed; bless others. And most importantly; in all things, give thanks."
Instead of the usual staying around after church for tea and cake, the congregation spilled out of the double doors to continue cooking their respective feasts. Taylor woke Reggie up with a few taps and a punch to the arm to bring him out of his slumber, they straggled behind as the church emptied and even the Reverend had disappeared into his office. A tall, portly, elderly man approached them and Reggie wiped the drool from his mouth. "That was a nice service, don't you think?"
Reggie nodded even though he missed three quarters of it. "Yes, Sir." Taylor replied, thinking he was lost. Otherwise, why else was he staring at him? "We have to go home, now. You know, Thanksgiving." The man smiled and looked him up and down, then stared into his eyes. Reggie got the same vibes he had in Little League when he told his mom about Coach Landers, who was later arrested for inappropriate behaviour with minors. "Uhh, Reverend Harris is in his office." Taylor said, snapping the man out of his intense staring.
"I came here to see you, Taylor." Reggie thought now was a great time to call 911. "It's me." Taylor's face was blank. "Grandpa." Taylor raised his eyebrows with the same blank expression. "Jeremy."
"Ohhhh…" Taylor said knowingly. He held out his hand. "Nice to meet you...Graa…" Jeremy was expecting a hug. Or excitement. But at least his grandson shook hands firmly like a man so that was a good sign. "This is my cousin Reggie."
Reggie shook his hand and stared at him with his head cocked to the side, wondering if Taylor's pop-up grandpa lived on the same whack-a-mole planet as his dad did. "You play football, son?" Jeremy asked, because of his build. Reggie nodded. "Yeah, Paul had talent. Should've gone Pro instead of wasting it on that…" He stopped because his grandson was standing right in front of him. "…Other job. What'd you play?" He asked Taylor, because he didn't know much about him except he went to Private (White) school, inherited his dad's mathematical talent, and Gina had good things to say about him.
"Soccer." Jeremy snorted because it wasn't a real sport. "And Tetris."
Jeremy didn't get the joke but he smiled anyway. It was striking how much his seed's seed looked like Josiah, proving bougie-ass Joss didn't give him anything from the Carters except his last name. "So what are your plans for Turkey Day?"
"Eating at Grams." Taylor sensed that was a mistake. A big mistake. But it was too late to take it back. Gregory didn't recognise the man talking to the youngbloods and knew his wife started fussing about five minutes ago. "Gregory Clement. Is this your first time at St. Luke's?"
Jeremy shook his hand. The man could play, without question. "Yeah, I'm Jeremy Carter, Taylor's grandpa. Just visiting from outta town."
"Yeah, where?"
"Norfolk, Virginia."
"That's a long way."
"Had to see the grandson, you know how it is…"
Gregory had heard things – not-so-nice things – about Jeremy from his wife but as a staunch pacifist and lifelong peacemaker, he unwittingly set the hungry pot of kerosene and fish grease on fire. "How long are you in town?"
"'Til Monday." Jeremy didn't have a ticket booked to anywhere but he knew Paul was planning on kicking him out after the weekend because it was written all over his face.
"Then you have to join us for lunch…unless you have plans."
"Me?" Jeremy asked. "You don't have to do that."
"Of course, join us."
"Well…if you insist."
4:58pm, Evelyn's Condo, Williamsburg, Brooklyn
When John arrived with a bucket of peonies for his mother-in-law in exchange for his tardiness, CeCe felt slighted because Joss had a man who would go to the end of the Earth for her and Taylor and her love life dried up months, if not years, ago. There was one person who was immune to his blue-eyed charm; an otherwise cantankerous man from a different generation who couldn't believe his ex-daughter-in-law was not only sleeping with the enemy but married to him too. And no one else had a problem with it. Not even his grandson, who seemed awfully close to this man, or the big-mouthed cousin who told a thinly-veiled story about a man, a shooting rifle, and a deer.
Despite the action, including Gregory whispering something in his wife's ear that made her smile, giggle and almost knock over her tall glass of sweet tea, Jeremy noticed his grandson's quietness and constant stare; like he was looking at a stranger. He cleared his throat. "So…what'd you do down there in Atlanta?"
The mood shifted, from casual laughter and conversation to awkwardness. "Math and Computer Science. More math."
"You got a job?"
Taylor nodded. "Library."
Jeremy smiled. "Gina said you got a girlfriend."
Joss knew Zahra was a soft spot for her son and it wouldn't end well. "Uhhh, does anyone want more pie?"
5:26pm, Evelyn's Condo, Williamsburg, Brooklyn
The only reason why Evelyn didn't mind her uninvited houseguest was because he kept his mouth shut for the most part, wasn't drunk and disorderly (this time), and every third sentence spoken over her feast was a compliment. She still didn't trust Jeremy as far as she could throw him and neither did her very distracted daughter. While Gregory told a story about his youth in Trinidad and some stolen sugar cane while Maxwell was playing, Cece noticed her cousin and the man in the designer suit were eye-sexing so fervently in the lounge chair (and their own universe) if looks could talk they'd have a platinum cover of Trick Daddy and Trina's Nann by now.
7.08pm, Evelyn's Condo, Williamsburg, Brooklyn
When Taylor and Reggie finished loading the dishwasher and drying Evelyn's nice glasses, Jeremy resisted the urge to say something outdated about 'women's work' and sat patiently until the football player got the hint that they needed privacy. "What'd they tell you about me?" He asked, loading the gun.
Taylor knew there was no right answer or way of winning. "That you wanted to see me."
He rubbed his chin because he was thinking, just like his dad did. "I did, I still do. But maybe tomorrow'll be better for us to talk."
"About what?" Taylor asked. But he didn't get his answer because his dad texted from downstairs. "Let's go. Before Dad starts charging."
Jeremy grinned, because he knew camping out at his son's place would pay off eventually.