Page 30 of Faded Rhythm
Sable
The girls are finally down for their nap, curled up together in the same bed like two little puppies. I close the door quietly and pad down the hallway. The air in Julian’s house is so still, it makes my thoughts feel louder than they are.
I wanna know what happened.
I find him sitting at the kitchen island, thumbing through his phone like he’s digging for something he can’t quite find. He looks up when I enter, but his facial expression remains stoic.
“Well?” I say.
He sets his phone down. “Two men following us. He said Dime sent them.”
“Dime?” I shake my head. “Now he’s involved in this?”
Julian studies my face. “Any idea why?”
“No idea.” I sit next to him and pull out my phone. “Maybe my mother knows something.”
I put it on speaker, and her voice rings out a few seconds later.
“Hey, baby!”
“Hey, Mama.” I glance at Julian as he leans in a little, elbows on the counter, gaze unreadable.
“I wanted to ask you something,” I say. “About Dime.”
She clicks her tongue. “I know. It’s so sad.”
I frown. “What is?”
“You know he’s terminal.”
I’m so confused by this. I glance at Julian again, who stares right back. He doesn’t have the answers either.
“You didn’t know?”
I blow out a breath. “I had no idea. Terminal with what?”
“Well, you know he’s been sick for a while. Prostate.”
She’s saying it pointedly as if this is common knowledge.
“Brett didn’t tell you? What is going on over there?”
“So…he’s dying?”
“Yeah. Poor thing’s lost so much weight, he barely looks like himself anymore. He’s got maybe a year. That’s what he told me, but I think it’s more like six months.”
I feel like the wind has been knocked out of me.
“Brett never said a word about it,” I say. “And we don’t really see Dime that much anymore.”
Mama sighs. “Maybe he didn’t wanna worry you. Or maybe he’s too busy counting the money. I bet he’s giddy knowing he’s about to get half of the label.”
I freeze.
And Julian’s face finally registers an expression.
“…What do you mean, his half? I thought Dime sold the label after Daddy died.”
Mama chuckles lightly. “Dime sold the distribution arm, sweetheart. Not the whole thing.”
“But…” I trail off, unable to form anything coherent.
I swallow hard. “Brett told me Dime sold everything. Remember, Dime took care of all the paperwork and legal stuff. Right?”
“Yes. Your daddy’s fifty percent went to you and Ebony. Baby, why don’t you know any of this?”
“I have to go,” I rush out. “I’ll call you back. Love you.”
“Love you—“
I hang up before she can finish.
“What the fuck is happening?” I finally say. I’m trembling now, I’m so angry and confused.
“Sounds to me like your husband lied his ass off.”
“Yeah, but why?”
I stand and pace, back and forth, my bare feet slapping the marble tile.
“The label is basically defunct,” I say. “They don’t have any artists. They started fizzling back in 2009.”
“When Redd died.”
I nod. “My Daddy died a few years later. Dime took care of everything. I didn’t have any reason to doubt Brett, and I didn’t have any reason to ask about the sale. I figured it all went to my mother.”
Julian’s brow creases as he stares at the counter in front of him. “Why would your father’s half go to you and not your mother?”
I have the same question, so I fire off a text. She answers immediately.
“Apparently, there was a clause in my Daddy’s will that if my mother remarried before the label was sold, my father’s stake would pass to me, my sister, and any children we have,” I read aloud. “Well, that makes sense, I guess.”
Julian nods. “That label is worth a lot more than you think, Sable. Even without current artists. Redd’s catalog alone is probably worth fifty-million.”
I pace again, feeling no closer to understanding.
“If you die, who gets your share?”
I stop pacing and stare at Julian. “Is that it? You think that’s why he wants me dead?”
“I don’t know. But trust me, I’ll find out. I’ll dig.”
My shoulders slump. The weight of deception feels heavier than any one person should bear.