Page 48 of Wifey
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Cameron drives an hour west for us to get ice cream at some mom and pop ice cream parlor. It has the old-school feel with hanging lights, checkered floors, and a counter. It’s more updated with a video menu, high-definition TVs playing cartoons, and a jukebox with oldies.
I don’t have to wonder why Cameron chose this place – the jukebox is playing 80’s music. It’s not just 80’s R&B that I love, but a whole selection of great 80’s music I love. Bananarama. Genesis. Peter Gabriel. Wham! George Michael. Prince. Shelia E. Guy.
We greet the manager and order our shared banana split dessert before we head to a quiet booth. We’re not the only patrons here, yet it feels so intimate. Cameron knew what I needed before I asked.
“I’m sorry for the way I acted back at your parents’ house,” I begin, hoping the embarrassment isn’t obvious on my face. “I just…I was fine before. Okay with it, I guess. And then she made the backhanded compliment and I just lost it.”
“Don’t be ashamed for speaking your piece, angel. I would be lying if I said I didn’t have my share of nasty blowups with my parents over the years.” Cameron admitted. “Sometimes it comes out when you least expect it and then you can’t control it.”
“You’ve had both parents growing up,” I reply before I sip on water. “Other than your father’s indiscretions, I can’t imagine how it would’ve been hard?”
Cameron shakes his head and releases a small chuckle. “Growing up privilege has its drawbacks. Being the child of a public figure even more so. I did something right, it’s because of my dad. If I did something wrong, it’s because of my dad. I worked hard, and became successful, it’s because of my dad. If I failed, however, it was all on me and I never heard the end of it.”
“You must have had a lot of pressure growing up,” I reply and Cameron rolls his eyes, followed by a headshake. “Since your father was always in Congress.”
“Friends are other wealthy kids who have too much time and money. It was only a matter of time before we really got into trouble.” He thanks the server for bringing our dessert and we dig in. He takes a spoonful of ice cream and feeds it to me and I do the same to him. “Smoking weed was the “bad” thing to do until it became legalized. We were constantly looking for stuff to do, to get into. Parents were never around. Fathers were running companies. Mothers were too busy being socialites and only wanted us for photo-ops.”
“Is that how you met Que?” I ask and Cameron shook his head.
“I’ve known Que since elementary. He grew up middle class, not poor. He was the most straight-laced dude. Straight A’s. Played the flute. Was a star basketball player. Kind of a nerd.”
“Que?” I ask and Cameron nods. “It doesn’t seem like him at all!”
“It was and still is. Get him on the topic of space exploration and he’ll talk until sundown.” Cameron confirms. “Que always hung out with guys who were also middle-class but rough around the edges. They stayed in the streets. I started hanging out with them more and more and well…things happened.”
“Your ascent to power,” I feed Cameron another spoonful of ice cream, “it’s one for the storybooks.”
“I’ve had more close calls than I’m comfortable admitting but once certain people got involved, it was easier. I’m not going to lie and say my race and skin color didn’t play a role. I didn’t act like I was down and wasn’t speaking with a Blaccent.” He blinks as he feeds me ice cream. “But once people see you’re serious, they tend to respect you more.”
“Did they know who your Daddy was?” I ask and Cameron shrugs.
“When it comes to money and power, no one cares about any of that other stuff. They know my father is a senator and that’s the extent of it. They have no idea what his power is.” Cameron briefly stares out into the distance and furrows his eyebrows. “I’m not sure if it makes a difference.”
“I see.” The more I talk to Cameron, it seems the more we have a lot of common, thought our backgrounds couldn’t have been more different. We both grew up in the public eye and were expected to have an image like our parents, even if it wasn’t what we wanted.
I still feel the pressure to live up to my father’s image, even though he’s been gone for a year. Cameron constantly feels the need to honor his father, even if he privately disagrees with many of Eric’s stances. A classic case of Honor Thy Mother and Father.
“Listen to me, carefully,” Cameron’s voice is quiet and serious. “We’re about to have some unwanted company now. I want you to act normally and not make a scene.”
My body stiffens and my eyes widen. Cameron gently shushes me. “Just play it cool, angel. They won’t harm you.”
My heart quickened. “They’ll harm you, though.” I look into Cameron’s eyes.
“No,” he gets out his phone and quickly sends a text to someone before he puts his phone away. “They wish they could, though.”
“Well, well, well…” A loud booming voice approaches our booth and we both turn to the sound of it. It’s Lexus, the man Cameron shot a year ago. He looks completely healed up and has a smirk on his face.
He also has a lot of company – a group of men ten-deep in comparison to just the two of us. We’re severely outnumbered and some are openly carrying their weapons. We might not get out of this alive.
“You have a lot of nerve coming here, Finesse.” Lexus speaks to him as men surround our table. “You know this isn’t your territory.”
“It isn’t yours, either.” Cameron remains calm. His eyes are anything but. “I’m pretty sure no one holds claim to an ice cream parlor.”
“New management,” another man replies. “Jackie.”
Cameron takes a bite of his ice cream and nods. “Got it.”
