The Family Business 3(77)

“When your father shook someone’s hand and looked them in the eye, they did whatever it took to make sure they stayed good on their word,” Willie Hopkins, a good old boy from Texas, raved as I walked him out to his car with Junior, Orlando, and Daryl. He and Pop had worked together almost from the beginning, so Willie considered him more than an associate.

“Vegas,” Willie said as he got in the back of his chauffeured Bentley, “if you turn out to be half the father that LC is, then your son is a lucky boy.”

“Thank you, Willie,” I said as I closed the door and waved good-bye.

Willie’s comment got me thinking about Nevada. I hadn’t had enough time to spend getting to know my son yet, although his cousins, and especially Ma, were already crazy about him. As the oldest grandchild, he seemed to have plenty of patience with his younger cousins, who wanted to monopolize all of his time. At first Paris was a little hostile because suddenly she wasn’t the only one with a male heir in the house, but even she had been won over by Nevada’s charm. That boy certainly reminded me a lot of myself. The whole thing happening the way it had was weird. Great, but weird. Now, if I could just get Consuela and Marie to make peace with each other.

“Hey, isn’t that . . . ?” I turned to look at whatever had caught Daryl’s attention. Our security team was directing a familiar black Mercedes truck to park in front next to London’s Rover. Minister Farah got out of the car and came toward us, followed by a bodyguard.

Minister Farah greeted Daryl and me with a quick embrace. “Gentlemen, I’m here to pay my respects. I hope you don’t mind. I also wouldn’t mind meeting that son of yours, Vegas.”

He reached over and shook Junior’s hand. They hadn’t seen each other since our first visit to Harlem, when we went to him for advice. With everything that had happened since then, it felt like a lifetime ago.

Orlando stepped up and introduced himself. “How are you, Minister Farah? Orlando Duncan. Nice to meet you.”

“So how are you doing, Minister?” I asked.

“I’m surviving, thanks to the grace of Allah. How’s your father?”

“He’s the same.” I took a deep breath and left it at that.

“Pops is a warrior. He may be down, but he’s not out.” Junior’s words resounded through all of us, especially because we needed them to be true.

“He’d be proud of you boys and what you accomplished against Xavier. The odds were stacked against you, and you persevered.” He gave us that wizened smile that said he was proud of us as well. The four of us shared a prideful look.

“Thank you, Minister. Come in.” I led him inside, with Daryl following. Orlando and Junior stayed out in the driveway to get a break from all the sadness in the house.

We hadn’t made it five feet into the house when we heard Ma’s voice.

“Minister Farah, so good of you to come.” She came down the stairs, always impeccably dressed and gracious, to greet our guest.

“I am so sorry this couldn’t be a happier occasion. It’s been years.” He kissed my mother on both cheeks.

“Thank you so much for coming. I appreciate it.”

“Is there anything I can do?” he asked, taking her hand.

“Just go on in and visit with him. It’s been too long.” She turned to me. “Vegas, you boys take Minister Farah in to see your father.”

Ma gave him a kiss on the cheek and then left to greet some more visitors. Daryl and I led Minister Farah to Pop’s room. Sonya was in there, changing the dressing on his wound. As soon as she finished, she scooted out to give us privacy.

Minister Farah moved close to LC, staring down at him for a while. I could tell that seeing Pop in this condition affected him. He seemed out of sorts, and for a man as buttoned up as him, that was saying a lot.

“Hey, let’s go back outside,” I offered, giving him an out.

“Is it that obvious?” He tried to keep his tone light, but his feet were almost at the door.

We followed him out of the room. Minister Farah seemed to be in a real hurry, so it didn’t take long before we were at the front door and then back outside.

“You all right?” Daryl asked him. He nodded, but the expression on his face worried me. Minister Farah and Pop were acquaintances, but I guess I hadn’t realized that they were so much closer than that.

“To see a man that powerful stuck in the in-between is jarring,” Minister Farah said, reaching for his keys distractedly. Seeing a person in a medical crisis can affect people all kinds of ways.

He turned his attention to the basketball hoop at the side of the house. “Hey, is that your boy?”

“Yes, that’s him.” Nevada was shooting hoops with Kareem and James.

“He’s a fine-looking boy, Vegas. Looks just like you.”

“Yeah, he does. Doesn’t he?”

The minister nodded. “Have you given any thought to letting me teach him privately? I can make a man out of him.”

“I talked to his mother about maybe letting you tutor him for a year; then, if he’s ready, sending him to the school.”

“Fantastic. He’ll be my most prized student.” Minister Farah looked so pleased with himself, and somewhere deep inside of me, an alarm bell started ringing.

“Well, with that being said, I’ll see you gentlemen soon,” he said.