Okay it's time for my new favorite ship. Leed and Bodie. Lodie? Bodeed? I don't know, I just love them (see Drastic prologue if you haven't yet).
Some crazy stuff happening at Bodie's new crib....read on....
Leed
Bodie's place worries me.
It's too close to his dangerous old life.
It's everything he doesn't stand for, in more ways than one.
It's a showy, brand new, mixed media custom job with stone work and wexford blue wood siding in South East Atlanta--geographically somewhere between the run-down properties of his old neighborhood and skyscraper downtown. New builds like this one are creeping as fast as kudzu from the city center. Despite it's relatively regular size (for a celebrity) and the fact that there are low income apartments two streets over, the place cost him bank, I'm sure.
Location is everything, and this area is rapidly becoming prime real estate close to trendy bars, clubs and boutiques.
Some people think that tearing down homes in the older, poor sections of town and remaking them into expensive neighborhoods is a way to reduce crime and improve city life, but there's a down side to the process, too. It's pushing the regular folk out of their homes, because of pressure to sell and rising property taxesâand leaving them with less affordable options and more inconvenient locations. It's breaking up what sense of community that exists in the poorer parts of town. And without a sense of community, people already at risk find themselves lost in a city of six million people.
I know Bodie hates the regentrification problems, so I'm surprised that he bought a place like this. Especially since he moved his mother up to North Atlanta years ago. At first he just fixed up her old house, because she didn't want to move out of the neighborhood she had lived in her whole life, but his celebrity status started causing problems for her. She had a break-in while she was home, because everyone knew that her house was now filled with nice things. After that, Bodie bought her a place on the opposite side of Atlanta, in a gated community.
Bodie's new place has no gate, which is kind of crazy, considering. I'm no elitist, but it seems to me he's just looking for a hassle, buying this place. I park on the street, because there is no other option. Marley already texted me that the place only has a two car garage and Bodie has already filled it with two identical window-tinted, black Escalades, which is a good way to avoid being followed, if he needs diversionary tactics at some point. Which he will, because he's already been made in his new home by the media.
As soon as I get out of the car, three paps circle me, snapping away.
"What's up with the beater, Leed? Afraid to drive a nice ride down here? Why has Bodie moved to Atlanta? Is it true that Bodie is on the outs with the band? Is it because of his drug problem or because Madam hates Arabella? Did Bodie marry her in Thailand?"
I never pause, but the last question sends tiny spasms of terror down my spine.
Jesus Christ, I hope to fuck he didn't marry Arabella.
When the first pap steps off the sidewalk into the six foot scrap of grass that constitutes Bodie's front yard, I turn and shove him. "Get the fuck off, man. Unless you want to go to jail for trespassing."
He smirks and takes one step back onto the sidewalk, shooting me the whole time.
Another pap is in the yard now. I sigh, considering my options. There is a huge part of me that wants to deck one of these guy, but it's probably more that I want to punch the dude who is puking over the side of a toilet while my Sunshine holds his shoulders and wipes his mouth.
Right, so I'm not going to go after these guys. They actually love it when I punch them. They make more money off suing me for emotional distress than they make in a year, off the pictures.
"When is Ashlynn's baby due? Are you like, incapable of wearing a condom, Leed?"
Fuck it. I'm so gonna punch this dick. I turn, advancing on the guy. He grins and keeps shooting.
"Thanks for the photographic evidence of your trespassing, asshole" a strong but feminine voice calls from the porch. The pap automatically lowers his camera in surprise. Marley, looking absolutely normal in leggings, a tunic, a messy bun and no makeup, is holding her phone, snapping away at his face, completely unconcerned that the other paps in turn are photographing her. "Leed, do you know this guy?"
I consider. "Nah, but our publicist will make him."
"Great. Expect to be served with a trespassing lawsuit within 48 hours." She looks at the other two paps. "Anyone else?"
The trespasser curses and steps back on the sidewalk but none of them make any move to leave. They just keep shooting Marley and me as I make my way up the steps. A guy I've met a few times comes out of the door behind Marley. He's African-American, dressed in slacks and a button down, and he's on the phone. "Yeah, that's right. Bodie's new place. 805 Lowdin. Three loiterers, harrassing passers-by. I'm pretty sure I saw them littering, too. And vandalizing. Cool. Thanks, Dawg." He shoves his phone is his pocket.
"My brother-in-law is a cop. You need to get the fuck on, or you are about to be picked up. The wheels of justice move slow in the precincts down here. Probably spend the night a holding cell. And you won't be alone in there, you know what I'm sayin'?"
"We have a right to be here!" The paps yell, but they are already crossing the street.
TJ slaps hands with me as I come up on the porch. "Sup, Lion?"
I tsk and give him the up and down. "TJ Turner. Look who went straight."
His good-looking mug spreads into a grin. "Family man now."
I clap him on the back. "I hear that."
I look past him. There's a kidâa big kidâlooking out through the glass door. He's got super short hair, a warm tone like TJ, and he's wearing a private school uniform. I smile at him. I can't help but think that something about this kid reminds me of Ollie, but maybe it's just the light eyes, filled with curiosity about what's going on out here.
"That your kid, man?"
TJ turns back to look at the kid. He and Marley exchange a look. "Naw. My nephew." TJ opens the door and we go through.
I'm vaguely aware that the house is white walled, with heavy custom moldings and rounded entryways, fully furnished with light leather sofas and dark wood furniture. The open kitchen beyond gleams with gray marble and steel appliances. There's not a lot of decor but the house is fully functional and Bodie has been here less than a week. Sometimes I'm still amazed at what means like ours can do.
But my eyes go back to the kid, and for the first time in my life I call my prejudices into question. Do I just think he looks like Ollie because he's obviously a mixed kid, too? That's kind of fucked up. I shake my head, focusing on his features other than his eyes, looking at him for him, and not what reminds me of my son.
"Darius, this is Leed," TJ says casually. I put out a hand to dab him up, dressing it like the kids do, with a wide swoop and the proper follow-up.
A grin tries to break on his face too--at my excellent dab skillsâbut he immediately tucks it back into a stoic face. "I know you," he says. "That hip-hop on Seven Minutes, it's alright for a white boy."
"Thanks," I say grimly. Alright? Whatever, kid.
There's a slightly awkward pause. Marley and TJ exchange another look. "Well," TJ says. "Darius and I gotta jet. He has practice."
"What you play?" I ask.
"Basketball," the kids says.
"Yeah, but it's piano he needs to practice right now," a much more familiar voice says from behind, and I turn to see Bodie making his way across the open living/kitchen combo from a room off the back of the house. Bodie looks good, considering. I mean, he looks the same kind of drug skinny he's looked for at least nine months, and he has dark patches under his eyes that even his butterscotched skin can't hide, but he doesn't look shaky or sweaty like I was expecting. In fact, he looks better than the last six weeks of tour, so that must mean he's functional, because he still kicking ass and taking names behind his kit, even then.
He gives me a lip twitch and a chin tip. I give him the same. I look at the kid and back at him, but Bodie gives me the slightest hand shakeâlike a "hold on" motion. He hands Darius two student piano books. "You forgot these."
Darius makes a disgusted sound. "Man, I don't need to practice that piece no more."
"Any more," Bodie corrects. "And we had a deal. Fix that bass cleft fumble you keep making in the twelfth and thirteenth measures before your lesson. And your attitude."
"Yeah, yeah," he gives Bodie a somewhat defiant look that doesn't match his tone of resignation. "Thanks for the game of GTA."
"You let him play Grand Theft Auto? Pat doesn't allow him to play that," Marley hisses.
Bodie gives her a pained looked. "I didn't know. But it's not that bad. I mean, the boy's thirteen years old, lived in the A his whole life. He knows what a hooker and a drug deal looks like."
Marley looks at TJ, but TJ tucks his hands in his pockets and looks blankly at the wall, like he's trying to stay out of it. She squares her shoulders. "That's not the point. He's not allowed. Darius, you knew that's not a game you were allowed to play, and Bodie didn'tâ"
"We were just trying to have a little fun. And it is his house..." his voice is somewhat cold.
"Hey!" Bodie gives him a slight shoulder pinch. "We talked about this. What your mama says goes."
Mama? I look at Marley. Her face is completely unreactive to both Darius' outburst and Bodie's remark.
So this is the infamous kid Adam told us about.
"Marley-baby," I throw an arm around her. "You've been holding out on us. I can't wait to hear all about your son."
Bodie shoots Marley has a pained look like he wished he'd never said anything, but he turns the kid around. "Dude, this is the last time I'm gonna have to ask you to apologize to your mother, for disrespecting her when she's trying to keep you on track with your grandmomma's rules. Right?" My world is spinning right now. The voice sounds just like Mike Ballard, but the words are coming from Bodie's lips.
"Right." Darius says sullenly, but then he looks Marley in the eye. "I'm sorry. I should have told Bodie I'm not allowed to play GTA. It's just so...silly and uncool that I can't play a game all my friends can play. It makes me feel like...a little kid."
"Thank you, Darius. I appreciate the apology. I know this is...all new and...hard," Marley says softly. "I'll...think about the video game."
"You and I can play it," Bodie says with a grin. "That way you can decide for yourself."
Marley gives him a slight smile and rolls her eyes, but the way they light at him makes me snicker. I'm an expert on the look chics gives guys they like. We all are. It's how we used to divvy up the fangirls. That look, right there?
That's a Bodie-fangirl look.
I guess Adam was just the get-up-next-to-Bodie-guy.
I smirk at Bodie. Bodie rockstars his expression. TJ looks uncomfortable.
The boy says nothing, just pulls his bookbag off the bench by the door. The kid's no shrimp but the bag is monstrous. TJ automatically lends a helping hand to hoist it on Darius' shoulders, like he's done it a thousand times.
"Come on. We got to get you to practice, then home so you still have time to work out that piano before dinner."
Darius turns to Bodie, his bookbag unbalancing him. "Nice place. Thanks for...the game and stuff. You are really...normal. Like guys around here. I didn't think you would be."
"Why?" Bodie asks, with a curious look at the boy. "I grew up here."
"Daemon said you were always...different."
Bodie's rock star face never slips, but I know my boy and the way his lips hardly move when his words are angry. "You would do better to listen to what your Mama Pat and TJ have to say. And your mother. They are the ones that know you and look out for you."
"Yeah," is all the kid says.
TJ gives Marley a gentle clap on the arm. "It will get easier," he mumbles. He gives Bodie then me, a chin tip. "Sorry. I'd like to catch up, but..." he nods down at the kid who doesn't notice. "Family life, ya know?"
He opens the door and before it even closes, his tone has changed to jovial as he talks to Darius. "Shay's making macaroni and cheese to go with dinner, D. And Mama Pat put bbq chicken in the crock point this morning. Let's stop by the store after your practice and get an ice-cream cake and blow it out..."
As the door closes behind them, I look from Bodie to Marley. They are staring at each other.
"It wasn't awful," Bodie mutters. "I mean, he's a little pissed at you," Bodie grins, "But he likes me."
Marley groans, and surprisingly, Bodie gives her a semi-rough, one handed hug. "I'm just playin', girl."
"He has a right to be angry," Marley says softly. "Thank you, for playing music with him,"
"That's why we are here. Pat and TJ have had their time. The boy needs to know... you, too."
"He knows me," Marley says softly. "I've always been there."
"Yeah, I know. But he didn't expect you to start acting like a mom," Bodie says, neutrally.
"Wow. This is like starting in the middle of a movie," I say, casually gesturing to the kitchen. "Imma grab some popcorn, 'kay?"
Finally, Bodie turns to me with a shit-eating grin. "'Sup, brother. Sorry," he waves at the door where TJ and Darius exited to indicate he means sorry for the awkward welcome. " I know I was pretty high in Nashville, but how did I miss Ashlynn's baby bump?"
"The same way you forgot to invite me to your wedding to Arabella."
"Now, you know that shit did not happen," he laughs, throwing himself down on the couch, looking tired. Marley moves off to the kitchen. "You need to eat something, Bodie." She's pulling out food cartons from the refrigerator.
"Naw," Bodie says.
"Yes," she says. "Leed, do you want something?"
"I'm good."
"Well, he's not. He needs to eat."
"I can't," he complains.
"You can try."
Bodie lifts his head and looks at me, slinging a hand at Marley. "Don't ever let one move in, man. They get bossy as hell."
I snicker. I can't help it. I thought my shit was crazy. What the fuck has Bodie got himself into, here?
"I have a job to do, Bodie." Marley calls.
"I thought we were friends now," Bodie complains.
"We were friends when you agreed to help me out with Darius. Now, he's gone and I'm paid to be on your ass."
Bodie swats a hand at her, and tries to focus on me. "Where's Ashlynn?"
"Where's Bells?" I counter.
"In Nashville in rehab as far as I know."
I give him a raised eyebrow. "So she did go to rehab after all. She know about all this?" I gesture between him and Marley.
He gives me the stare-down. "Where's Ashlynn?" he repeats.
I lean forward, drop my elbows to knees. "She's at her parents. With her ex."
"Awwww, hell no," Bodie says, rallying from his reclined position to lean forward to me.
I wave him off. "It's not like that. She and I are good. He's...sick. Long story."
"I got nothing but time."
I cut my eyes to Marley in the kitchen. "Tell you mine, if you tell me yours," I say softly.
His eyes follow mine and he looks at Marley for a long time, long he's contemplating. "Grease. I could eat grease," he says conspiratorially. "I got no appetite for the shit she's trying to shove down my throat."
I flash my keys. "Bolt out the front door?"
"Naw," he whispers. "I have no idea why you've got your old ride back, but I ain't riding around in that piece of shit." He rises a little unsteadily. "The garage door is through the kitchen. I'll grab the keys but you drive. No matter what Marley says...just keep walking."
"I'm with you, brother," I say grinning.
Before Bodie even reaches for the keys, Marley's on him. "Where are you going?"
"Out."
"Bodieâ"
"Jesus, Woman! We're going to grab some cheeseburgers, not to score."
I push Bodie out into the garage before Marley can protest. I swing around, putting myself in between them, blocking her way into the garage. "I've got 'em. "
Marley's messy bun bobs all around her, as she stabs her finger at me. "Don't let him drink."
"Naw. Sober times, I swear. We're just going for a quick bite."
Bodie has already started the car.
"I don't think he's steady enough to drive."
"I'm not driving," he calls grumpily as he slides over to the passenger side.
"See? He knows his limitations right now," I wheedle at her. "He's fine, Marley. Jesus, he survived a third-world country on heroin. I think he can ride shotgun to the Varsity for a cheeseburger."
"Leedâ"
"It's all good. We'll be back in an hour and half tops."
"Leedâ"
"Marley. You have a kid! Like a half grown kid! Who's the baby-daddy? What's the deal?" I lean in conspiratorially. "Do Trace and Adam know about all this drama?"
"Are you blackmailing me?" her voice spikes.
"No," I say, offended. "I'm just sayin', I'm obviously going to need the full disclosure here, so I don't make grievous errors in overstepping boundaries and betraying confidences. So either you can tell me all about it, or you can let Bodie tell me what I need to know...over a poor quality meal and some much needed bro time."
She rolls her eyes. "Get out of here. Bring him back in two hours, or I'm tracking the GPS on the car."
I slide in the driver's seat and thumb up my music app and connect to the car while I search for a specific new release that just dropped today. The first song of D-thrills album âwith Mac's featureâpours through the sound system. Bodie laughs. "Really, Dawg?"
"When in Rome, brother." I open the sunroof and turn up the bass and we are out.
Thoughts on this chapter?