Rockstar Savages Read online

  Chapter 10

  Returning to Atlanta changed the moment RSE opened the Houston office. Jamal sensed the difference as he sat in the car waiting for the driver to load his luggage in the trunk. He had spent enough time in Atlanta to call it a hub, but not home. The Hughes were his last tie to the city.

  The driver door closed and the car was set in motion. Jamal decided to head straight to the Hughes house. He could stay in a hotel, however, he knew Mamma Hughes would have a fit. He’d stop there first, then make any further decisions after reconnecting with them.

  The city of Atlanta passed in a blur. He had a forty-five minute ride without traffic, but with the bumper to bumper highway, it would take them closer to two hours to arrive, plenty of time for Jamal to construct a reason for his absence.

  Jamal couldn’t merely explain how he needed a buffer between himself and the world. No one ever understood his need to construct this wall around his life, to protect the personal space around his heart. And it dated back to his days in the group home.

  The buffer made it easy to manage the flow of people in and out of his life. The buffer made it easier, as a kid, to remain detached.

  Jamal moved from foster home to foster home, by the time he reached the Martin house he was numb. The wall was fully intact. But somehow Miss Joyce chipped away at it.

  Time passed and after years of holiday, years of birthdays he’d forgot. He overlooked the abuse. He hid the bruises. He became comfortable until Tyson Martin reminded him.

  Jamal swallowed hard as the driver closed the distance between the luxury car and the Hughes house as memories of that day assaulted him, reminding him of his lack of belonging. Because Jamal had let the allure of the same bed, in the same room, make him forget that he wasn’t a Martin.

  Tyson taught him a valuable lesson. He taught him blood was thicker than water, and since Jamal wasn’t blood, the Martin family tossed him out.

  The Martin family was his last foster home. At twelve years old Jamal accepted that fact that he was alone in this world, and if given the choice, family choose family. And he wasn’t family.

  The driver stopped outside the gated community. Jamal showed his identification and the guard waved them through. They entered the neighborhood full of third and forth generation money. The mansions passed by until they stepped in front of an English Manor style home. The immaculate green lawn guided his eyes to the panel of tinted windows. Jamal tipped the driver grabbing his bags and walking up to the only real home he’d known.

  Jamal had no blood relatives. No kin. He had John and Donna Hughes and the guys. But the more the the guys married off the more he felt like he was back in that group home, alone.

  Jamal took a deep breath and entered the house. He smiled as his eyes scanned the foray. A wave of familiarity overtook him. The circle table holding a bouquet of fresh flowers sat in front of him, flanked by the double staircase leading to the second floor.

  “Ma,” he called out. He chuckled remembering the first time he visited this house. He thought it was the fanciest house he’d ever seen in his life, and he was right.

  “Jamal? Is that you?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Where are you?” Jamal glanced around, dropping his bags to the floor.

  “I’m in the kitchen.” Her words faded as she rounded the corner. Donna Hughes dropped the towel in her apron walking into the foray. She wore her age well, perfectly coifed with a smile so bright it caused a hum of guilt to stir inside him. “I don’t know if I should take you over my knee or cry from happiness.”

  “Neither.” Jamal pulled her to him, her arms wrapped around his waist, and his around her shoulders. He kissed her cheek, then squeezed tight, matching the strength of her hold.

  Donna pulled back looking up into his eyes. “It’s good to have you home.”

  His chest tightened at the sight of tears glistening in her eyes. Jamal looked away. He knew his absence bothered her, and he had only one explanation. His past had done a doozy on him. It made it hard to trust people. Even people his right mind knew meant him no harm.

  Jamal opened his mouth, but he couldn’t produce an explanation that wouldn’t sound like bullshit.

  “The only thing that matters is that you’re here now.” She stepped back looping her arm through his, resting her head on his shoulder. “How long are you staying?”

  A sigh of relief helped dislodge his tongue. “A few days, if you don’t mind a little company.”

  “Not at all. I’ll have your room prepared while we finish preparing dinner.” They walked down the hallway to the kitchen. Donna smiled up at him, “Go change, John will be here shortly.”

  Jamal kissed her cheek. “Thanks Ma.”

  “You’re welcome baby.”

  Jamal retraced his steps. He had first visited the Hughes home the summer after his freshman year in college. Donna Hughes, the wife of John Hughes, spotted him a mile away at a mixer for the company interns. He was the only person of color and the only intern without a guest. Her hazel blue-green eyes zeroed in on him and she invited Jamal to join the family celebration for the Fourth of July. He wanted to decline, but thought it would ruin his chances of receiving a return offer from Hughes Realty, plus he was alone in Atlanta. The family gathering went well and morphed into home cooked Sunday dinners.

  The family pulled them into their fold. The following year when he returned to intern John and Donna demanded he stay in the guest house. This went on for three years. He interned under John until Jamal began building his own business. John, had taught him well.

  Jamal changed clothes and rejoined Donna in the kitchen.

  “How can I help?”

  Donna removed asparagus from the grill, adding it to a platter. “Grab the salmon.”

  They worked side-by-side like old times, of the kids Jamal didn’t mind getting his hands dirty. Before Jamal stayed with the Hughes’ he thought families sitting around a table, every night for dinner, was a myth. But every night, Donna cooked a hot meal, and everyone in the house sat at the table together. He learned the infrastructure for his life around the Hughes table.

  Donna stepped back examining her handy work, as a pleased smile crossed her face. The linen table clothe with crystal glasses. She placed her fine China out at ever meal because she didn’t believe in saving her good stuff for special occasions.

  Jamal could see the years etched in the fine lines on her face. Her once blonde hair was closer to silver and it complimented her olive skin.

  “How have you been son?”

  “I’m good. The guys are keeping me busy, and with Cameron off on his honeymoon, I actually have a little time off this week.”

  “John says you’ve finally hit your goal.”

  “You remember.” Jamal tried to suppress his surprise.

  “Of course I remember. You’ve been on your billion dollar trek since the day you walked into this house.” She shook her head lightly.

  “I can’t deny that.” Jamal laughed.

  “So, now that you’ve conquered your mountain, what will you do with yourself?”

  Jamal opened his mouth to respond when the front door opened.

  “Dear.” His voice carried through the house.

  “I’m in the dining room.” Donna pressed an index finger to her mouth, in the universal hush sign. Jamal nodded.

  John slowly made his way through the house to the kitchen, talking about his day at the office. Donna responded at the appropriate times, never moving from their spot in the dining room.

  The ching when his keys being dropped in the kitchen drawer. The sound of water running as he washed his hands at the sink. The open and close of the refrigerator as he drank a glass of water.

  Jamal found the old man fascinating. He always reserved his decision making for the things that matter. He wore blue suits everyday. He had the same breakfast and when he didn’t meet with clients, he had the same lunch. All traits Jamal mirrored, down to the suit.

  John stopped in the doo
rway.

  “Hey, ole man. Thought I’d join you for honey glazed salmon and grilled asparagus.”

  “Jamal, son, what are you doing in town?” John laughed pulling Jamal to him. Damian was right. John had loss a lot of weight, but the solid pat on Jamal’s back was still strong. John gripped his shoulder, “I’m like fine wine, my boy.”

  It was Jamal’s time to laugh. “No doubt.”

  Donna brushed away a tear, “Shall we dine?”

  * * *

  “Ma, dinner was delicious.” Jamal needed to hit the gym instead of sitting on the couch. He’d over did it on the food, but it was worth it. First with Carmela, and now with John and Donna. “How’s everyone doing?”

  “Exceptional.” John sipped his wine. “Charlotte and Katlin are studying abroad.”

  “Jack, Jr graduates this year.” Donna added.

  “How does it feel to have everyone out of the house?” Jamal darted between the two. All four of their kids seemed to be thriving.

  “We’re learning to enjoy this time alone now that my health is on the upswing.” John reached for Donna’s hand. “Business is thriving and once we get Jack in place, I’ll only pop in when needed. I’m hoping to take my honey on a long trip.”

  “I like the sound of that.” Donna covered his hand with hers. The look in her eyes made Jamal glance away. The love was never lacking between the two of them.

  Jamal walked to the fireplace scanning the pictures. The Hughes family was growing thanks to Damian and Imani. He stopped smiling at their family picture before Imani learned of her current pregnancy.

  “I had dinner with Damian and his bunch the other night.”

  “We FaceTime with them several times a week. But Wright is going up too fast.” Donna said.

  “Are you heading to Houston when Imani has the baby?” The two year old was running circles around his parents.

  “Yes, we plan to stay for a few weeks so Donna can spoil the baby.” John smiled.

  “I can’t help it.” Donna smiled over at Jamal. “So, when are you going to settled down, and give us a couple more grands?”

  Jamal choked in shock. “Settle down?”

  Cough. Cough.

  “Grands?” He asked, wondering how’d they got on this subject.

  “You’re not getting any younger.” John added.

  “Oh no, I’ll leave the baby making to Damian and Imani.” He turned back to the fire place realizing this was the first time he’d had Donna and John alone. He scanned the pictures, stopping at the picture of him and John.

  “That’s one of my favorites.” Donna walked over placing a hand on his shoulder. “The day you graduated, top of your class.”

  Jamal felt his heart warm. He walked back to the couch with Donna.

  “Tell us all about what RSE has going on.”

  Jamal sat back and gave them the updates.

  “How about Sydney? Did you all get her squared away?”

  “Yes sir. She’s officially on our label now.”

  “Good, good.” John nodded. “What’s next?”

  “I’m heading to New Orleans to evaluate a hip hop artist.” The mention of Carmela brought her face to mind.

  “Hip hop? Cameron is a hard one to gauge.” John shook his head, chuckling.

  “Yes, sir he is. He makes me feel like I’m back serving as an intern under you. I’m constantly challenged and I can only imagine where we’ll be in five years.”

  “Hopefully married.” Donna added.

  Jamal rolled his eyes. “Don’t hold your breathe on that one.”

  “You just need to find the right one.” Jamal saw the hope in her eyes, he wasn’t buying it. But when the image of Carmela came to mind he wasn’t surprised.

  “The love of a good woman changes everything. Ask Damian.” John winked.

  They talked for a while longer before Donna and John slipped out leaving him alone. Jamal glanced at the room around him.

  John built a legacy. His family. His house. His business. The fireplace cracked with fresh logs, removing the slight chill from the family room.

  Jamal tried to ignore their words, to push them aside, but with his billion dollar goal in the bag, wasn’t it time to build his own legacy. A mark to show he was here. Because he can’t take the money, houses, or cars with him.

  How could he make a lasting impression on the world?

  Jamal crossed the room extending his hands towards the heat from the fire. The pictures stared back at him. The obvious difference between the Hughes and Jamal stumped him for years. This white man and woman opened their home to a poor black kid from Detroit. They’d helped when scholarships ran short. They’d flown to where he was for birthdays. They’d insisted he participate in every family vacation. And it wasn’t a show, they were the real deal.

  Jamal thought the Hughes kids would mind. But they were peas of the same pod. They didn’t mind nor question his presence. And that’s how he met Damian, the eldest Hughes child. Him and Damian shared an unique relationship. Then Damian introduced him to Cameron, Bruce, Marques, and Devin.

  John changed Jamal’s life by offering him a paid internship. Donna changed his life by opening her heart and home to him. Damian changed his life by introducing him to his future business partners. The rest, as they say, was history.

  Jamal stopped picking up the framed picture of the entire family on his graduation trip to Greece. He’d shared some of his best memories with them.

  What if Jamal could do the same for someone else? What if he could be the John in the life of a teen who, like him, was alone in the world?

  And like genie, Carmela and Crescendo came to mind. Jamal would look at the research with more vigor tonight. Because not only does Carmela offer the opportunity to increase the RSE roster, but Crescendo could be the first step in creating a legacy of his own. He replaced the picture on the mantel as the though settled into the crevices of his calculating mind.

  Jamal hadn’t expected Carmela to text him within hours of their breakfast. But now, he was more than glad she did.

  Jamal turned leaving the family with a new found determination. He was looking forward to his return to New Orleans. And the thought of seeing Carmela again only sweetened the deal.

  * * *

  The rest of the week passed in a blur. It was time to return to New Orleans.

  “Promise me you’ll visit more.” Donna hugged him tight. “I’d love nothing more than to see you at this year’s ugly sweater brunch.”

  “I promise and I’ll be there ready to claim the coveted ugly sweater prize.” Jamal laughed, kissing her cheek.

  “Oh, you better get ready to fight Charolette for the prize. John upped it to $5,000 to the charity of your choice.” Her eyes twinkled with happiness.

  “Tell Charlie, she’s going down.”

  They laughed as he turned to John.

  “Son, call if you need us.” The strength in John’s handshake and the determined look in his eyes caused Jamal to pause.

  “I will.”

  “You’re always welcomed here, this is your home too. So, stop giving Donna fits about your whereabouts.”

  “Yes, sir.” Jamal accepted the hug resolving to change. He was a grown man, and it was time he left his demons behind him.

  This week he spent time Donna, taking her shopping, hanging around as she cooked and volunteered. He’d golfed with John and shadowed him during his appointments. Then the three of them shared dinner each night. The sense of nostalgia lingered like the fragrance of the fresh baked cookies Donna insisted Jamal add to his carryon.

  John and Donna were moving around well and still very active in the community, but they were getting up in age. Jamal had to find a way to spend as much time with them as possible.

  Jamal passed his bags to the driver, before lowering into the car.

  “We love you.” Donna called out.

  “Love you too.” Jamal squeezed her outreached hand. “I’ll call you when I land.”

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nbsp; Donna nodded, and he noticed the unshed tears when she glanced away. His chest tightened as John gathered Donna to his side.

  “I’ll be back soon Ma.”

  Donna kissed her fingers and turned them in his direction, her smile weak as the car pulled away from the house.

  John gave him an assuring nod but it couldn’t erase his guilt. Seven days wasn’t long enough to make up for what Jamal missed. This week helped him realize avoiding them was selfish of him because he’d never intentionally hurt either of them..

  Unable to resist, Jamal dig around in his bag until he grabbed a cookie from the plastic bag. He took an oversized bite of his favorite dessert, letting the taste and texture of the gooey melted chocolate and crunchy pecans overshadow his reservations.

  This was all new for him. Jamal had a natural sense of self preservation, it was his constant companion, and a trusty guide. However, he could tell by the way Donna held on to him that he’d worried her. He had to do better. Even if it meant addressing the dark shadows his childhood casted over his existing relationships, because he loved Donna and John, and they loved him.

  But Jamal also knew the shadows of his past wouldn’t let go of him without a fight. He’d have to take calculated steps, starting with calling more and he’d make sure to find his best ugly sweater for Christmas.

  He’d made the first move. He visited. He made the trip to Atlanta and he’d bridged the gap between them, and for that he felt a load lift from his shoulders.

  Jamal now had a fresh wave of determination to his agenda, giving new perspective for his New Orleans trip, and a greater incentive to sign Carmela and Crescendo. It wasn’t just about RSE, although he wouldn’t fail the guys.

  Jamal had to sign Carmela, as the next RSE artist, and find a way to work with Crescendo to put his fortune to good use, if that was possible, and to stop running from the only real family he had. That sounded easy enough.

  Yeah right.

  He popped the rest of the cookie in his mouth. He’d never been afraid of anyone or anything. He wouldn’t start now. What he needed was a window of opportunity, a weak link in Carmela’s operation. Which meant intel, and he knew who could have detailed reports in his hands within days.