Ten Years Earlier

* * *

All I can remember about that day is walking into my brother Jason's unlocked front door to his apartment to see her walking out from the bathroom through the living room area wearing nothing but a white T-shirt. Jason stood up from the black leather couch he was sitting on and started trying to explain. I could see his mouth moving but couldn't hear a word being said 'cause my heart was beating so loud. I could feel blood rushing to my head from the anger and knew my face had to be turning red as the color of the American flag.

Like watching a scene from an action movie, I saw an arm swing. A split second later a fist connected to the left side of Jason's chin just before the second fist connected and landed on the right side, forcing Jason to fall backward through the glass coffee table. After hitting the floor, black-and-white Nike Air Max shoes started kicking and stomping him. I heard him yell out in agony when one of the shoes landed on his left rib cage, but still he was able to gain his composure by kicking his legs up and hitting me in the stomach. That's when I realized it was me attacking him. The kick to the stomach had me backing up while bending over from the pain, giving Jason a chance to stand up. I swung with a right again and missed. He caught me right above my left eyebrow with his own right punch that stunned me, and I could feel blood start to flow down into the corner of my left eye. I dove at him, and we both fell over the arm of the black leather couch, landing awkward enough to give Jason a chance to put his right arm around my neck, putting me into a headlock as we both somehow got to our feet. He continued trying to explain, but I wasn't hearing any of that. He said, "D, let me explain," and at that time, out of the corner of my right eye, I could see the fireplace poker leaning up against the wall next to the fireplace, so I reached my right arm out, barely able to grab a hold of it. With what seemed like a lunge, I was able to grab it with a tight grip. I swung it over my shoulder, hitting Jason in his. That's when I heard her scream for me to stop before somebody got hurt.

I don't even remember how I made it to my car, but I found myself at the airport. Twelve hours later, I was awakened by a US Airways flight attendant telling me we had landed and everyone else had already exited the plane. With the pain in my heart and a fresh bandage over my left eyebrow, I exited the plane to start my new life.

Sheldon

* * *

Six Weeks Earlier

Knock, knock, knock. Three knocks at the door of the manager's office.

"Come on in, Ms. Betty."

"Boy! You might want to ask who it is before saying come on in."

"Oh, hey, Momma Liz."

"How you doing, baby?"

"So what can I do for you?"

This is what I asked of my best friend and business partner's mother as she made herself comfortable in the same blue office chair she sits in every time she wants me to get a message to her son Derek.

Every time I look at her, I think she had to be fine as hell back in her day, 'cause she's in her midfifties now and still holding her own. Momma Liz is a slender-built woman, about five feet seven inches and 130 pounds, and anyone would think she was an athlete or a dancer years ago, but she's just a little ole fair-complected Creole woman with long black hair from New Orleans. She reminds me of the actress Jennifer Beals from the old-school movie Flashdance, but older now. Anyway, she was there to ask me to tell Derek to "bring his high yellow tail home" as she has always said since the day he left ten years ago. This time she added "His momma needs him," which somehow seemed different than any other times she wanted me to tell him something. She had been going through a bout with cancer that she was hiding from one son and held me to a promise not to tell the other. She always had to be the strong one that didn't let anyone see her sweat. That was Momma Liz from the day we met back in my college days when Derek and I used to fly home to LA on breaks from school, but now I think the cancer and the years are taking its toll. I told her Derek had left for a tour in Europe a week earlier and wasn't expected back in the States for another six to seven, so she said to just let Derek know when I talked to him. That's all she said on the matter except to remember the promise I made to her. Then she stood up from the blue office chair and left just as quickly as she came.

I sat there awhile, looking over the big desk made of oak, at the permits and pictures I put up on the wall. Of course I had a picture of my family, but what sticks out the most for me were two pics. One picture was of Derek and me when he first purchased the building eleven years ago, when it was called the Monteleone Hotel, and the second was six months after the remodel. There was a third pic of Derek, Jason, and I, but that was well after we were already open. The remodel consisted of changing the bar on the first floor into a restaurant; the second floor into Club Zeus, a couple of offices, and a locker room for the staff; and the third into two suites and a storage room. Derek wanted a suite for Momma Liz and a suite for himself.

This business has had its ups and downs, but we've seemed to have done well, and as I think back, that was the last real conversation I had with Momma Liz besides the usual greeting of hello or good-bye as we sometimes passed each other in the building.

Derek

* * *

It was a week before the tour ended in Europe when Derek got the urgent message from Sheldon informing him of the grim news that his mother, whom he hadn't seen or spoken to in ten years, passed. Derek hopped on the next flight leaving London and headed to the States. It took a couple of layovers at a few different airports before finally making it back to New Orleans, a place he hasn't been to in years, but he never thought he would be gone so long. He strolled the French Quarters of the Vieux Carré as most knew it, admiring the revelers as they stream down the street with drinks in their hands.

He purposely parked his rental car over on Bourbon Street so as not to get stuck between cars if he needed to make a quick exit. Finally, he stopped across from the building he purchased eleven years ago with plans on making this the perfect place for guests to come and get a good meal and great entertainment. He watched patrons go in and come out. It hadn't changed much since he'd last seen it. There were a couple of minor changes to the front, which now opened up so the patrons could partake in whatever the festivities are, because New Orleans is known as a town that has many.

Club Zeus was the club to be at when it opened a little over ten years ago. Derek played for a packed house every time he came off tour and stayed home for any lengths of time. The outside of the building matched that of the surrounding ones. It had been dated and updated some, but not much, considering the Preservation Society wasn't going to allow them to do much renovating of the buildings outside. They wanted it to remain untouched as it had for hundreds of years. The club picked up even more when Jason came on board, bringing in more money than they projected each night, allowing Derek to pay off the loan he'd taken out to purchase the building within three months of Jason's arrival. A few months later, Derek made Jason a partner in the club, giving him 25 percent and Sheldon 25 percent and leaving himself 50 percent. He struck a similar deal with his second cousin Betty Jean, who ran the restaurant. She ran it just as well as they did the club, and this afforded Derek time to travel and make more of a name for himself in the industry.

The joyous memories he had faded and turned cold when he spotted her with his back-stabbing brother. She wore a black dress and black heels, matching what just about everyone in the room was wearing. He still had some feelings but wasn't quite sure if it was for her or if it was the fact that it was his brother she's with. All he could think about is the memory of seeing her standing before him in just a T-shirt at his brother's apartment. For ten years he has been trying to forget that day but can't seem to erase it from his mind. Derek hadn't spoken to either of them since that day and didn't want to. He just wanted to see his mother's body, ask for forgiveness, then leave town as quickly as he had arrived. He entered the club, seeing his best friend, Sheldon, who has gotten bigger since he last saw him.

"What's up, D? Look, man, I'm sorry about Momma Liz. As I told J, her health is not something she wanted me to tell you. She made me promise! She was a great woman," he said as they embraced each other momentarily.

"Thanks, man. How are you? I see you've gotten bigger, man. You know that ain't healthy for you at all, man," Derek said.

"Yeah, I know, but you know how good the food is down here, man. I keep promising Pam I'm gonna get my big ass back in the gym. So what's up? Are you just here for the funeral, or are you gonna hang for a while?"

"Naw, just here to pay my respects and bury Moms. Then back to LA and live my own life."

"How was Europe?"

"It was cool, man, but I'm thinking this is the last one."

"Are you serious? Is it that serious between you and Angela?"

"Yeah, man. I'm not gonna make the same mistake twice. Plus I'm in a good spot in the business, and the investments have paid off well, so it's time."

"Have you spoken to Jason?'

"Nope. What for? I have nothing to say to that fool. As far as I'm concerned, I have no brother and family left."

"Man, D! I know you were hurt by how that shit went down and all, but blood is thicker than water. Remember that," Sheldon said.

Jason emerged from the back room. He spotted his younger brother, but he too didn't want to speak to him. He finally forced himself to speak. "Hey, D!" was all he could muster. Derek acknowledged his presence with a nod then walked away. He sat near the back, out of sight, as people spoke about his mother. He had tried to control his emotions but failed as tears streamed down his face.

"Hello, Derek. How are you?" she said, not knowing if he would speak to her or not. He looked up and saw her standing before him. He wanted to yell at her but at the moment couldn't manage to get a word out. She sat down next to him, placed her arm around his shoulders, and pulled him close to comfort him. "I'm sorry for everything," she whispered into his ear. Jason joined them, as for that moment, they were family once again, but both knew it wouldn't be long before Derek returned.

He stood before the packed club, spoke a few words, then sat down behind the ivory-colored grand piano and played a song his mother liked when he was younger. Derek had put a spin on it that had the club rocking to its beat. Later when everyone was gone except for him, Sheldon, Jason, and their families, he sat around with them, reminiscing about his mother, Liz. "I should have been here for her," Derek said.

"Yeah! Well shoulda, woulda, coulda don't cut it. So no need to beat yourself up over it, man," Jason said. "You've always put your career before everybody else, so don't sit here pouting," he said.

"Look, there is no need for all this shit right now, J. You two just lost your mother. It is time to mourn her and celebrate her, not bicker and fight," Sheldon said as Derek got up to leave. "Don't leave, man!" he yelled, chasing Derek down outside to the curb.

"I didn't come back here for this," Derek screamed out. "I wouldn't have left had he and my so-called wife didn't fuck around together, or at least told me from day 1 they had dated each other before I came along," he added. "Look, I'll see you tomorrow before I leave." Then he left to roam the streets of the French Quarter, finding himself stepping into a bar and playing with the house band before returning to his rental car so he could head back to his hotel room.

He now didn't even want to go to the burial and planned to just go to the grave site before heading to the airport tomorrow.

Jason

* * *

Feeling guilty about the way I just spoke to my brother, I headed to the door behind Sheldon, but by that time, Sheldon was already headed back in. He said, "Derek had gone already." I found myself standing in the doorway, staring out at the passersby, thinking about how this all went down.

I remember Moms being the only one coming out to visit when I was locked up. She used to tell me how good Derek was doing and how he had gotten a scholarship for music from Tulane University in New Orleans and how she had planned to move back to New Orleans once I got out and was able to move down there with her. She was sure her cousin Betty Jean could get me a job at the restaurant that doubled as a club she worked at. On one particular visit, Moms told me about Derek planning to get married. He had dropped out of school and was doing real well in the music business. Along the way, he had met a girl he wanted to marry. Then she told me who it was and asked me to be happy for them. Moms said she didn't know until the week before when she was at Moms's house looking through an old photo album. Moms told her she would talk to me and for her not to worry, it would all work out.

When I got out two years later, Derek introduced us, and we acted as if that was the first time we met. Hand to God, I tried to leave that woman alone, but when Derek started having marital problems, I'd be the one he'd turn to and I'd be the one he'd ask to go and talk to his wife and explain how the business was and how demanding it could be. Trying to be a good brother, I'd be over there to smooth things out. I guess this wasn't one of those things that could be smoothed out, especially by me. I even found myself trying to get him to do more family stuff, but my brother always chased the money.

So here we are, ten years later, speaking for the first time at our moms's memorial service. Somehow I'd like to see if we can patch things up and get past it all. Moms and Pops are both gone now, and besides our uncles and cousins that we were never close to anyway, we are all the family we have left. Besides, Derek hasn't even gotten to meet our son, Jarek. Moms named him, and it's easy to see she combined both our names to come up with his. He is nine going on twenty-nine. The only child we've had and he is a handful already. He has my bloodline, but I swear he's his mom's little male clone. He looks just like her and already got all them little girls in the neighborhood blowing up my house phone calling him. Anyway, we sat him in the back with Pam, Sheldon's wife, and their two kids—Sheldon Junior, eight, and Mira, six years old. They were all together talking, messing around, just being kids, while Pam sat there, monitoring them, making sure none of them got out of line.

All these years have passed, and the only person Derek keeps in contact with is Sheldon. Of course he sent Moms birthday, Christmas, and Mother's day gifts and maybe an occasional postcard or two, but it was never the same. I guess it's like now he doesn't even have ties down here except for the business. This situation has always had me feeling guilty 'cause I know I owe Derek my life for everything he'd done and had waiting for me before I even took my first step back into the world as a free man. I also know Moms had something to do with it, but he didn't have to do all that he did. I guess that's why I worked so hard at Club Zeus. I wanted to make sure I didn't disappoint anyone, especially Moms or Derek.

I'd only been out a few days when Derek and Sheldon told me what they had planned for me. That was the same day Derek showed what he had done to my old '68 Chevy Impala. I thought I'd never see that car again, but Derek had held on to it, keeping it in storage, and right before I'd gotten out, sent it to West Coast Customs. I never knew this car could ever look this clean. Instead of the rusty green Impala with primer spots all over and a torn black vinyl top, it was painted midnight blue with matching plush blue upholstery, sitting on twenty-inch EMO rims wrapped with low-profile Python tires. This car meant the world to me 'cause it's the only thing I had left to remember Pops by.