The Inheritance Pt. 01-02

Amber was still awake, chilling on the couch in her panties and a t-shirt, watching TV and smoking a joint. When I walked into the living room, she looked up and said, "get me a glass of wine."

I headed to the kitchen and came back with her Chardonnet. She crinkled her nose as I set it down on the table.

"Jeez, you fucking stink."

"S-sorry. They had me on the deep fryer tonight."

My wife hit her joint and blew smoke in my face. "Well, get used to it because you won't be quitting any time soon."

I gasped and blinked back tears. "But ... I ... why ... why not?"

"Because we need to get up $20,000 by April 3rd, and Hakim says he don't see the point in using the inheritance money for all of it, since you're already working anyway. So, for now, he says you're keeping the Burger Champ job."

"Um ... why ... why do you need $20,000 by April 3rd?"

"That's what it's going to take to pay the head of the Parole Board. Hakim said the rest of the board will do whatever this guy says, and for twenty grand he'll approve it. It's a sure thing as long as Hakim doesn't get any major violations between now and then. The hearing's the on 4th, but the guy needs cash up front the day before."

The blood drained from my face at the prospect of Hakim's parole but Amber didn't notice as she sucked her joint and frowned. "But until then, no conjugal visits. He says it's too risky; he can't afford getting caught and getting a violation. It fucking sucks. Damn near three months..." She shook her head and sighed.

I gulped. "Um ... I'm sorry, Amber."

"Yeah, no shit, you're sorry. Me too. Just when I get enough fucking money to get that dick any time I want to, he says we have to stop. Damn it." She took another hit. "Oh well. It'll be a bitch, but it's worth it ... because my baby is getting out soon! Ooooh!!!"

She squealed like a 50s teenybopper at an Elvis concert. Then, her expression became serious.

"Tim, Hakim says he wants to talk to you about what happens when he gets out."

I started sobbing.

"Oh, please, gawd, don't leave me, I don't want a divorce, oh, please, you can still see him when he gets out; haven't I been good about it all these years? Why should anything change? Please." I clasped my hands together. "Amber, I'm begging you -- don't leave me."

My wife chuckled. "You're such a fucking pussy."

"S-sorry."

Her lip curled. "And what do you mean you've been good about it for all these years? As if you've been making some big sacrifice. I'm the one who's had to sacrifice, Dumbo, thanks to your asshole father. I mean, when I married you, I didn't expect to end up in a place like this ... with you working in a fucking warehouse. You didn't hold up your end of the deal."

"I ... I know. I'm so sorry, Amber. I really am. I'm sorry he couldn't see past his racist bullshit after the twins were born."

"Well, if your fucking cunt of a mother would've had a backbone, she would've told him to kiss her ass and kept sending us money, anyway, and you wouldn't have had to take that loser job. But no ... she makes us wait until the prick dies."

I shifted from one foot to the other. "Um, well ... at least Mom supported you and the twins -- unlike the rest of them."

"Supported us? How? By calling twice a fucking year? By sending a goddamn birthday card with a $100 bill in it? How the fuck is that supporting us, Tim?"

I bowed my head. "You're right. I'm sorry. I wish she'd have stood up to him, too. But nobody could."

Amber jeered. "Bull fucking shit. I stood up to him; I told the fat motherfucker to kiss my ass."

"Yes, you did." I cracked a rare smile at the memory. "You were the only person who ever talked back to him."

She scoffed. "Well, someone had to. Your wimpy ass sure as hell wouldn't do it."

I stood there and said nothing.

Amber broke the silence: "Now, then, like I was saying: Hakim wants to talk to you."

I started crying again. "Please--"

My wife tittered. "Don't worry, Dumbo, I'm not gonna divorce your sorry ass."

I wiped my eyes. "Honest? OMG, Amber ... thank you ... thank you so much. I don't know what to say ... thank you."

She shrugged. "Hakim says it can all work out. But he said he wants to fill you in on the details, and let you know how things are gonna be. So, plan on coming up with me next Tuesday to visit. My mom can watch the twins."

"Uh... okay. I'll tell my manager not to schedule me Tuesday."

Amber took one last drag of her doobie and put it out in the ashtray. She drained her wine glass and handed it to me. "I'm going to bed, Tim. You working tomorrow night?"

"No, I've got tomorrow and Thursday night off."

"Good, you'll be staying home with the girls tomorrow."

"Um, okay. Where you going?"

"None of your fucking business," she said over her shoulder as she walked away, leaving me standing there in my greasy Burger Champ uniform holding her empty wine glass.

"The Inheritance," Chapter 4

by c.w. cobblestone

My butt had barely touched the dining room chair when Leesa threw up her hands and puffed.

"You forgot ketchup, Tim."

"Oh, crap, sorry about that." I rose to accommodate my stepdaughter. "Anybody else want anything while I'm up?"

Nobody replied, so I retrieved the bottle of ketchup and sat back down at the table, pleased to be having supper with the whole family for a change.

Amber took a bite of her hamburger and crinkled up her nose. "Eww, what did you put on here, Tim?"

"It's bleu cheese; um, I thought you might like it on your burger, since you asked me to pick some up the other day."

My wife shoved her plate away. "I like it on salads, Dumbo, not burgers. Are there more in there?"

"Uh, yeah, I made plenty."

"Well, throw this out and go get me another one -- and put regular cheese on it this time, Dumbo. This tastes like dogshit."

Red-faced, I collected my wife's plate and scurried to the kitchen while Leesa and Shanice giggled.

After I served my wife her second burger, she took a bite and nodded. "See? That's how I like a hamburger, Tim. Much better."

I sighed with relief and started to pick up my burger and lift it to my mouth, but Shanice frowned at me and said, "I really don't feel like grape juice; I think I want milk tonight."

With a fake smile, I set down my hamburger, scooped up my stepdaughter's glass of grape juice and waddled back to the kitchen.

I waited a few seconds after sitting down again to see if anyone would want anything else. Finally, I was able to take a bite. My burger was cold.

From the head of the table, my wife addressed her daughters:

"You guys are staying with Na-Na tomorrow after school; me and Tim are going up to see your dad."

Leesa pouted. "Ooh, I want to see Daddy too."

"Me too," Shanice echoed. "Mama, can't we see Daddy, too?"

"You just saw him on your guys' birthday." Amber reached over and brushed her daughter's cheek. "Maybe next time, honey. We got some adult stuff to talk about."

Shanice cocked her head. "What does Daddy want to talk to Dumbo for?"

That made everyone laugh. I chewed my cold burger.

Amber continued: "Well, I told you: your father is getting out soon and coming to live with us. When he does, there are going to be ... changes."

"I can't wait for Daddy to come live with us," Leesa said. "Is he gonna make Tim move out?"

My wife shook her head. "No, Tim will still stay here with us ... but it's gonna be different. That's what your dad wants to talk to him about tomorrow."

I squirmed at how they were discussing me as if I wasn't in the room, and felt relieved when Leesa told me she wanted pickles for her burger, since it allowed me to escape to the kitchen for a few seconds.

They had changed the subject by the time I got back with Leesa's pickles, with the twins badgering Amber about the various amenities they wanted once we bought a larger house. Even though it was my mother's inheritance money that would be financing the move, they never considered asking me, since they knew I had no say.

"I want a swimming pool!" Shanice screeched.

"One of those big ones, with a diving board." Leesa thought about it and smiled.

Amber dropped her napkin on her plate. "Girls, I don't think that's going to be a problem. In fact, that's one of the first things I'm going to look for -- a nice, big swimming pool."

The twins cheered.

My wife lit a cigarette. "We just have to wait for your dad to get out; he says he wants to come with us when we look at houses."

"That'll be so awesome, I can't wait," Leesa said. "How long till he gets out again?"

My wife sighed. "The hearing's April 4, and he said it may be a few days after that before they release him. But it won't be long."

Shanice smirked at me. "Ooh, Tim, when my dad moves in, you're gonna have to do what he says."

Leesa added: "Or he'll kick your butt."

Shanice nodded. "Dad would kick Tim's butt, easy, huh, Mom?"

"He did already, remember?" Leesa said.

Amber snorted. "Yes, he did, right after you guys were born. Ol' Dumbo here was begging for mercy."

My wife and her daughters chuckled. I shivered at the memory and started clearing the dinner table.

"The Inheritance," Chapter 5

by c.w. cobblestone

I raised my hands and squirmed while the burly guard patted me down. When he finished, he nudged me forward. The door slammed shut behind me and I nearly shit my pants.

Amber, unfazed by the routine, led me into the visiting room. We stood there for a good 10 minutes, not speaking a word. A side door finally slid open and the hulking figure of my wife's lover emerged in the entranceway. My stomach felt like I'd swallowed a helium balloon.

Hakim scooped my wife into his arms and kissed her like a starving addict, their hands caressing each other's cheeks like they do in the softcore porn movies. I shifted from one foot to the other, hands in my pockets.

When they finally came up for air, Hakim smirked at me.

"Timmy, my man. It's been a while. How you doing?"

"I ... um, good, Hakim. How ... how are you?"

He didn't answer, but placed his palm on the small of my wife's back and guided her toward our assigned visiting table. I followed and sat across from them.

Hakim leaned back in his chair. "So, Timmy, Baby Girl tells me you're trying to steal her away from me."

"Uh, what? I ... no, I ..."

"She says you begged her not to divorce you after I get out."

"Uh, well, yeah, but ..."

"But what?"

"Well ..." I cleared my throat. "Um, I ... I thought we could, um, you know, just keep the same arrangement."

"Not gonna work, Timmy. How we gonna keep the same arrangement when I come home?"

I glanced at Amber, who was staring starry-eyed at her lover.

Hakim asked again: "How's that gonna work, Timmy? I come home and my woman got a husband living there with her?"

I drew a breath. "Well ... um, isn't that kind of how it is now? I mean, Amber and me are technically married, but ... um, it's not ... we don't ..."

Hakim chuckled. "Oh, I know that little pink dick don't get close my baby. But that's not the problem."

"There won't be any problem, Hakim, I promise. I sleep on the couch already, so you'll have the bedroom." I played with my sleeve. "Look, I've always known you're the one she wants; she's been coming up here to see you for years and it's not been a problem at all, has it? I even took the extra job so you guys could--"

Hakim frowned, silently warning me to shut the fuck up about bribing the guards for conjugal visits.

I held out my hands. "Please, Hakim, I just want things to work out. I promise I won't be a problem at all. Not one little bit. I just ... I just want to be part of her life. Whatever that means. Whatever I've got to do. Please."

My wife and her lover exchanged glances. He leaned over and kissed her for what seemed like an hour before breaking it off and staring me down.

"Sorry, Timmy, but it ain't enough to 'not be a problem.' There has to be respect. I can't--"

"But I do respect you, Hakim."

"See? That right there -- I'm in the middle of a motherfucking sentence and you interrupt me."

"S-sorry."

He arched an eyebrow. "Sorry, what?"

"I ... I don't understand."

He locked eyes. "Sorry, what?"

I caught on: "S-sorry, sir?"

Hakim sneered. "Say the whole thing: 'I'm sorry for interrupting you, sir.'"

Licking my lips, I repeated the humiliating apology: "Um, I'm sorry for interrupting you, sir."

Amber squealed and nuzzled her lover's bicep. Hakim stroked his goatee.

"Timmy, if I'm gonna let you stay married to my Baby Girl and live with us, there's only gonna be room for one man." He scrutinized me for several seconds before continuing. "From here on out, I run shit. You do what you're told, boy. Understand?"

I swallowed and nodded.

Hakim glared. "Answer me."

"Yes, I understand."

"What's that, Timmy?"

I dropped my gaze. "Y-yes, sir."

"That's better. Now, when I get home, I don't want my daughters being confused about this shit. What are you telling them?"

"Just that you're gonna live with us when you get out, and that I'm staying, too. It's no big deal; they really haven't asked a lot of questions about it -- except they keep wanting to know when you're coming home. They must ask three, four times a day."

"I talked to the girls." Amber grabbed her lover's hand. "There ain't gonna be no confusion, baby. As soon as you step into the picture, I think everything's gonna just fall into place naturally."

Hakim nodded.

Amber giggled and kissed her man's fingers. "The twins already know what's what. They were teasing Dumbo just the other day about you being the boss when you get home."

The couple shared a laugh before Hakim changed the subject to his impending parole. He and Amber held hands while they conversed, lost in each other's eyes like two lovebirds. It made me sick to my stomach.

After several minutes, Hakim broke eye contact with my wife long enough to notice me sitting there squirming like a third wheel. He scoffed. "Timmy, I want to be alone with my Baby Girl; go tell the guard you don't feel good and then wait your ass out in the car."

"Y-yes, sir."

My shoes felt like they were made of Play-Doh as I wiggled from the table and plodded toward the guard station. Behind me, I heard Hakim say "told you," followed by the wet smack of their triumphant kiss.

"The Inheritance," Chapter 6

by c.w. cobblestone

As I sat alone in the prison parking lot watching snow flurries tickle the windshield, a flurry of whys pricked my brain.

Why would I agree to such a ridiculous arrangement? I didn't need to put up with it; I could have dumped Amber and moved on without giving up a dime of my inheritance. But after eight years of marriage I was hooked, and would've endured anything to keep her in my life.

Why was I so utterly pussywhipped by this woman?

Why didn't I just leave her seven years earlier, like I'd started to do after she mortified me and everyone else by giving birth to mixed-race twins? Amber and I had made only a few stabs at sex after our wedding, and being an awkward virgin, I went soft each time, never coming close to climaxing. When she got pregnant, I accepted her explanation that the man didn't need to cum to fertilize the egg, because sperm leaked out of the penis whether there was an actual orgasm or not. What a fucking chump I was. Mom was in the delivery room for the birth; I'll never forget how she gasped in abject horror before tearfully running away. I followed after her, and we hugged in the corridor for probably an hour. The next day, I phoned Amber in the hospital and told her to not come home.

Why did I let my foolish heart get the better of me a few days later and beg Amber to take me back? My racist father and brother never forgave me for that, and Dad cut me off from my mother's money until the day he died. But it didn't matter what anyone thought; I drove to my mother-in-law's house, determined to try to hold my marriage together. I pounded on the screen, professing my undying love. Hakim answered the door, yanked me inside and kicked the shit out of me.

Why did I make a complete fool of myself after Hakim beat my ass by kneeling down in front of everyone and telling Amber she could continue seeing her lover as long as she didn't dump me? She scoffed and turned me down flat -- until her bad boy baby daddy got busted a few weeks later and she changed her mind. I'll never forget her heart-warming speech: "You want to stick around and take care of me and my daughters? As long as I can keep on seeing Hakim, knock yourself out, Tim. Just don't expect anything from me -- and you sure as hell ain't getting that ugly little dick anywhere near me, I can tell you that right now." Her lecture, which would have enraged a proper man, made my heart sing.

Why did I take a warehouse job to support someone else's kids while Amber never worked a day, other than during aerobics class?

Why did I agree to stay home and babysit while Amber drove up to the Illinois State Penitentiary a few times a month to visit the man who had knocked her up before catching a drug case that resulted in a 5-to-15-year prison sentence?

Why did I agree to get a second job flipping burgers to earn extra money after Hakim found a guard who'd let him fuck my wife in an empty office for $1,000 cash?

Why was I unable to say no to anything Amber demanded?

Why? Why? Why?

After contemplating all the whys, I kept getting stuck on a what:

What the fuck was wrong with me?

The self-loathing eventually put me to sleep and I crashed in the passenger seat for about an hour until Amber returned from her solo time with Hakim. I sat there in silence while she slipped the key in the ignition and nosed the car out of the prison parking lot. Several miles down the road, as we were about to pull onto the freeway, she finally spoke.

"You know he's not playing, right?"

"Yes, Amber, I know. I told you: I'm not gonna cause any problems."

"He says he don't want you calling him 'sir' and shit in front of the girls, but otherwise, you treat him like a king, because that's exactly what he is. That beautiful, badass black motherfucker is my king -- and now he's your king, too."

I twiddled my fingers and nodded.

"I'm telling you right now, Tim -- I don't give a shit about your mother's money; if you don't keep him happy, you're gone. You understand?"

"Yes, I ... like I said, whatever it takes. I ... I'm just grateful we're gonna keep this marriage together."

She crinkled her nose. "We don't have a marriage, Dumbo. We have an arrangement."

I sighed. "Okay, so then I'm happy we're keeping our arrangement together. I ... I love you, Amber. I always have, and I always will, no matter what."

My wife scoffed. "You better not let him hear you say that."

"The Inheritance," Chapter 7

by c.w. cobblestone

Everyone enjoyed my Sunday dinner, even Veronica, who usually looked for any excuse to cut me down.

"Not bad, Dumbo," my mother-in-law said, smacking her lips after chewing a portion of ham. "You can cook, I'll give you that much. I guess everyone's useful for something."

I rearranged a lump of sweet potatoes with my fork and forced a smile, sidestepping the insult. "Yeah, I can't wait for us to move so I can have a nice, big kitchen to cook in again." I turned to the twins. "Girls, you should've seen our old mansion; the kitchen alone was as big as most houses. I mean, it was huge."

Amber sniffed. "Yeah, and then we ended up in this dump because you're a loser who was too scared to stand up to your asshole dad."

Shanice glanced around the room and scowled. "I'm tired of living here, Mama. If we got millions of dollars, how come we don't just move into one of those cool vacation places like on TV, where they got swimming pools and stuff? Just until Daddy comes home."