Just Too Good to Be True (10 page)

CHAPTER
20

Barrett’s Change of Heart

A
re you going back to the locker room?” Barrett asked as she left the pep rally at Founder’s Square. A shocked Shante turned around to face Barrett and quizzed, “Are you talking to me?”

“Yes. Are you going back to the locker room? Why don’t we walk down there together?” Barrett said.

Shante raised her eyebrows, rolled her head, and said, “Whatsup with being nice to me? You trying to pledge my sorority or something?”

“I’m sorry. I know I wasn’t so friendly when we first met but I think we should try and be friends. I mean we are the only two black girls on the squad,” Barrett said.

“So now it’s
let’s be friends because we sistahs.
I get along with my white girls just fine, thank you.”

Shante picked up her green and gold pom-poms and started toward the center of campus. Barrett didn’t like to beg, but she needed information on Brady.

“Shante, wait. Please, I’m sorry,” Barrett called out. Shante turned around and said, “Come on, girl. You right. We sistahs and we should get along. Give me a hug.”

A hug wasn’t at all what Barrett had in mind. She wasn’t used to females touching her in any way unless they were trying to bring her physical harm. Still, when she pulled away from the awkward embrace, Shante was smiling at her.

“So, how are things going with Brady?” Shante asked.

“I’m taking it slow,” Barrett said.

“Well, I think you’ve gotten farther with him than the rest of us. And let me tell you, honey, we’ve all tried. Black, white, Hispanic, you name it,” Shante said.

“Why do you think that is? Is he really that much of a Boy Scout?” Barrett asked.

“I know he’s really focused on football and school. I mean how many jocks do know who’ve finished their college requirements in three years? He’s just hanging around to play football and he’s working on a second degree, too.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty amazing. Do you know his mother?”

“I’ve met her a couple of times. She’s a beautiful woman. Looks more like his sister than his mother. She seems nice, but I know it might be a different story if I’d made that move on Brady like I’d wanted to. Notice, I said that in the
past tense,
” Shante said.

“So you’re no longer interested in Brady?”

“I wouldn’t kick him out of my bed, but that’s where the problem starts.”

“What do you mean?”

“Girl, you know that Brady Bledsoe is a virgin and he even wears a little silver celibacy ring that looks like a wedding band.”

Barrett had noticed the ring and knew it wasn’t a wedding band but she hadn’t asked him what it stood for. So, the information Nico had given her about Brady was true.

“Brady Bledsoe is the Chris Leake of CGU,” Shante said laughing.

“Who is Chris Leake?” Barrett asked.

“That phine ass quarterback at the University of Florida who said he wouldn’t have a girlfriend until he won a national championship. I know Brady looks up to him. Let’s hope whatever they feeling ain’t spreading,” Shante said.

CHAPTER
21

Carmyn Deflects a Pass

I
kicked off my heels by the door, browsed through the mail I held in my hand, then dropped it onto the table without opening anything and slowly climbed the stairs. It had been a long, grueling Wednesday—first at Back to My Roots and then with the rich and the wannabe famous in Buckhead.

I crept by the exercise room. As tired as I felt, I wouldn’t be doing anything in
that room
for days. But a smile filled every part of me once I stepped inside my bedroom. I took off my blouse and dropped my skirt to the floor. The soft azure walls embraced me with comfort, stealing the day’s tension away. I reached for some of my Carol’s Daughter hand cream and rubbed my hands as I inhaled the wonderful aroma of lavender. I slipped my Yolanda Adams CD into the Bose CD player. It took just a few steps for me to reach my bed and fall into the softness of my overstuffed comforter and my super-plush pillow-top mattress. I moaned with pleasure.
This is probably better than sex,
I thought.
At least it’s more consistent.

I rolled onto my stomach and stared at the telephone. I had been thinking about Kellis all day, but both salons were so busy I didn’t have a chance to call her. I hoped she’d reconsidered her insurance scam. I thought I might have a plan to prevent Kellis from doing something she’d regret even if she didn’t get caught. I picked up the phone and dialed her number. She answered on the first ring.

“Hey, Kellis,” I said as lightly as I could. “What are you up to this evening?”

“Girl, you just caught me. I’m going to the Blue Point for dinner.” Normally, a mention of that upscale Buckhead restaurant known for its atmosphere and outstanding food would have made me smile. But tonight I couldn’t—because I knew it was probably more than a dinner for Kellis.

“That’s pretty fancy for the middle of the week, isn’t it?” I asked.

“Yeah. I won’t have to pay for it, though.” Kellis laughed.

I didn’t laugh with her. I took a breath before asking, “Who are you going with?”

“Some guy I met at the gym. He used to play for the Atlanta Hawks. I could ask him if he has a friend. But I must warn you, he’s young,” Kellis said.

“Don’t do that. I’m waiting for Brady to call,” I said.

“You sound worried. What’s going on? Is Brady all right?”

I hesitated for a moment and then said, “Nothing. Brady’s fine.”

“Come on, Carmyn. I know you didn’t call just to check out my dinner plans.”

“I guess you know me too well, huh?”

“We’re friends. I’m supposed to know you.”

Friends.
I wanted it to stay that way. But more important than Kellis’s feelings was her well-being. I had to say something. “Well, what I’m about to say may not be good for a friendship, but I’ve been worried about you.” Before Kellis could respond, I continued before I lost my nerve. “I’ve looked over some of my accounts and…I think I can spare five thousand dollars if that will help.”

When there was only silence on the line, I called out Kellis’s name to see if she was still there.

“I’m here, Carmyn,” Kellis said softly.

Oh, no,
I thought.
I’ve offended my friend.
I couldn’t help but think about when we first met and Kellis was always spending money and had paid for what seemed like hundreds of dinners for Brady and me. Back in the day when she was an NBA wife, she used to drop five thousand dollars just walking through the door of the Louis Vuitton store at Lennox Square.

Kellis said, “I’m just trying to fight back the tears.”

It took a moment for her words to make sense, and I sighed with relief. “I don’t want you to cry. I just need to know if this will help you out.”

“More than you know.”

“Good. I’ll drop the check by tomorrow.”

“I’ll never be able to thank you enough.”

“Don’t mention it. I know things are tough right now, but I want you to know they will get better.”

“Carmyn, you know I didn’t really want to file that false police report. But there was no other way.”

“There’s always another way,” I said. “You’re going to be fine.”

“Because of you.”

“Well, thank God for hair grease and pressing combs,” I said.

We laughed together.

I said, “Go out and have some fun tonight.”

“I will.” Kellis paused. “And Carmyn, thanks for being a real friend.”

“You would do it for me,” I said.

“Yeah, I would. I’m here if you ever need me,” Kellis said. “I wish you’d let me find you a boyfriend after I find husband number two.”

“Good night, Kellis.”

I hung up, suddenly filled with an energy I didn’t have when I first came home. Maybe, instead of a night of fattening snacks, I’d venture into my exercise room instead.

It was a little
after 6
A.M.
and I was on my second cup of coffee when the phone rang. Nobody but Brady called me this early.

“Good morning, sunshine. Have you finished your workout?” I asked.

“Yeah, Mom, I have. My teammates have been stepping up with the workouts. I’m really proud of them. What about you? I hope you’re not letting your exercise room collect dust when I’m not there to push you,” Brady said.

“That’s because you’re a good captain and you would be proud of me. I actually did the treadmill for thirty minutes last night. I want to look my best when I greet you on the football field on senior day. How’s practice going?”

“We’re ready. I think we can run the table this season. Are you coming on Friday or Saturday morning?”

“I’m coming Friday. I’ll hang out with Lowell. I think he’s met someone. So I need to either pry it out of him or do some spying,” I said.

“That’s good. Hey, do you know if he’s going to use your other ticket?”

“I don’t know. Why?”

“I might need it for someone,” Brady said.

“Who?” I asked. I sent up a silent prayer that it wasn’t this girl he was interested in. Lord knows I didn’t want to spend the first game of the season with a total stranger. Someone who would try to get pointers on how to snag my one and only son. But then I remembered Lowell telling me she was a cheerleader, so I knew the ticket couldn’t be for her.

“You’re not going to believe this, but I want to give it to Delmar’s mother,” Brady said.

“What? I thought she was dead,” I said.

“Me too. But it turns out she’s not. Just showed up out of the blue the other day. She said she had been living in New Orleans.”

“Was Delmar shocked?”

“You know Delmar, he’s not talking,” Brady said.

“Is she going back to New Orleans?”

“I don’t know, Mom, but I’ll tell you she’s a character,” Brady said, and laughed.

“I’m sure Lowell can get a ticket. He might be able to sit in the president’s or dean’s box. When do you need to know?”

“Whenever,” Brady said. I detected a note of sadness in his response.

“Brady, are you all right?” I asked.

“Yeah, but I’ll tell you that meeting Delmar’s mother got me to thinking about my dad and how I wish he was alive to see me play,” Brady said in a serious tone I rarely heard from him.

I didn’t respond right away. No matter how many times Brady brought up his father, I always got nervous and didn’t have anything to say. It was easier when he was younger and accepted my response that his father was up in heaven helping God. Brady took great pride in that, and when his classmates in first grade asked him where his father was, Brady boasted what I’d told him, word for word.

“Mom, I got to ask you a favor,” Brady said after a few moments of silence.

“Sure, baby. Whatever you want,” I said.

“Do you have a picture of my father? I want to tape it to my helmet this season. It’ll be like he’s with me during every run I make.”

A heavy silence followed Brady’s question. How was I going to handle this? All of a sudden, horrible images of my youth flashed before me like a bad movie. I’d become an expert at blocking painful events from my memory. Now my son was tampering with the movie of my life he knew nothing about.

“Mom, are you still there?”

“Yeah, Brady, I’m still here,” I said softly.

“I didn’t upset you, did I?”

“No, Brady, you didn’t. I just wish I could help you, but I don’t have any pictures of him,” I said.

“Okay, I just thought I’d ask. I’ve made it since Pee Wee football without him, and I guess I can make it this year, too,” he said mournfully.

It was breaking my heart not to be totally honest with my son. But how could I tell Brady I didn’t know who his father was?

BOOK TWO

THE SEASON

CHAPTER
1

Brady’s Little Prayer

I
t was Friday night, hours before the first Saturday in September. It was time to play some football, and even though I’d played in hundreds of games before, I felt an indescribable blend of excitement and calm.

The team had just returned to a hotel right outside of Scarlet Springs where we were going to spend the night. Just before we went into our rooms, I spotted Koi Minter dancing in the hallway while a couple of our teammates cheered him on as he showed off his “Cali moves.” I had a bone to pick with Koi and thought now was the time, so I went over and tapped him on the shoulder. He took out his earplugs and said, “Whatsup, Brady boi?”

“Can I speak with you for a moment?”

“That’s what’s up, Mr. Team Captain. What can I do for you?”

“Why don’t we step over here,” I suggested, nodding my head toward the corner near the vending machines.

Koi followed me, and when we were out of earshot of the other guys, I turned around and stood so close I could see my reflection in his eyes.

“Why haven’t you been making the morning workout sessions?”

“Man, that shit is whack. Do you know when it’s five
A.M
. here in the dirty South that it’s two
A.M
. in Cali? A brother just be getting in from study sessions or whatever.”

“Yeah, I know, but that’s not the question. The workouts are MANDATORY and you need to man up and be there. Do I make myself clear?” I barked in my best captain voice.

Koi looked me up and down real slow in one of those
Is he smoking crack?
looks and then said, “Yeah, I hear you, dawg.”

“Good, I’ll expect to see you first thing Monday,” I said, and headed for my hotel room.

Delmar walked through the
door wearing an oversized, team-issued warm-up suit and a black do-rag. He was talking on his phone, but I could tell from the look on his face that he wasn’t happy.

“Trifina, why you got to always be a bitch? I sent you five hundred dollars last week, which means I’m only a hundred dollars behind in my child support. Why in the hell is that not enough money for you to bring your punk ass down here for the game? I want my son to see me play,” he shouted.

I hoped Delmar fighting with Trifina, his baby’s mom, wasn’t going to affect his game tomorrow. Not that their arguing was something out of the ordinary. I thought about Naomi, whom I had found an e-mail address for but hadn’t heard from. I wondered what my life would be like if I had the responsibility of a child and a wife.

I picked up my cell phone and debated whether or not to call Barrett again. I had called her twice but figured she was busy with the pep rally. I listened to my messages, including one from my mother telling me she had arrived safely at Lowell’s.

When I clicked off my phone, Delmar was ready to talk.

“Son, can you believe that trick Trifina? Talking ’bout she ain’t got enough money to drive down here for the game because gas is so high. I pay her over five hundred a month, and that’s more than enough for gas. She’s just being a bitch. I bet when I make it to the league she’ll find a way to get to my games,” Delmar said.

“Where are you getting that much money from?” I asked.

“Mind your own business, son. I know how to handle my shit,” Delmar said.

“Don’t do anything that will make you ineligible, D.”

“Stop trippin’, Brady.”

“I wish you would have said something earlier, because D Jr. could have ridden down with my mom,” I said.

“This shit just pisses me off. My dad could have brought him,” Delmar said as he lay back in frustration on the double bed on the left side of the hotel room. I didn’t think now was the time for me to tell him that I’d gotten a ticket for Maybelline. He hadn’t mentioned her since she showed up at our apartment.

“There will be other games,” I said.

“I wanted him at this fuckin’ game. It’s going to be a sellout, and I got about three agents who will be there. I wanted them to see D Jr. so they know I got mouths to feed. They need to know I’m hungry.”

“D, I hope you’re being careful and not taking money from agents. They’ll feel like they own you.”

“That’s bullshit, dude. Do I look like Kunta Kinte to you, dude?”

Just then my cell phone rang, and when I looked, I saw Barrett’s beautiful face and name flash up. My heart quickened. I looked at Delmar and told him to hold up.

“Hello,” I said.

“Brady. How’re you doing?”

“I’m straight, Barrett. How are you? How was the pep rally?”

“I’m good and the rally was awesome. So much better than the freshman pep rally. I would say there were over four thousand people there. The campus is so geeked about the game tomorrow. Are you ready to play?”

“Yeah, I’m ready. But I want it to be over so I can see you. I can’t wait for you to meet my mother,” I said.

“Do you think she’ll like me?” Barrett asked.

“How can she not like you?”

“So what are you doing? I bet ya’ll got some boppers waiting for you at the hotel,” Barrett teased.

“Come on, girl, you know that ain’t my style. Besides, the coaches look out for that kind of stuff,” I said.

“So have you been thinking about me?” Barrett asked. Her voice sounded so sweet and irresistible.

“Would you believe me if I said every minute of the day?” My statement was pretty close to the truth.

“Should I?”

“Barrett, I told you my mom raised me right, so every word that comes out of my mouth is true. Especially when it comes to you,” I said.

Delmar got up and went into the bathroom and closed the door, making the room dark.

“Do you have any pregame rituals?” Barrett asked.

“Nothing but prayer with my mom,” I said.

“What do you sleep in?”

“What?”

“I asked, what do you sleep in?” Barrett repeated.

“My drawers,” I said.

“What kind?”

“Boxer briefs.”

“I want you to do something for me.”

“Sure, Barrett, whatever you want.”

“You promise?”

“Yeah, what do you want me to do?”

“I want you to take those boxers off when you get through praying and sleep totally naked tonight. Make sure you continue to spend every minute thinking of me. Will you do that for me?”

I waited a few moments and then said, “Sure, I can do that.” We said good night, and I was thankful that Delmar couldn’t see my hard-on in the dark as I got under the covers full commando—naked as the day I was born.

I had been in
bed for about an hour, Delmar snoring like a grizzly bear, when my phone rang. I saw that the call was from my mom, so I answered it.

“Mom, is everything all right?”

“Sure, Brady, everything is fine. Lowell wants to take me to breakfast first thing in the morning, so I thought we could do our prayer tonight,” she said.

“Sure, Mom. Let’s do this,” I said.

“Lord, we come before You as your humble servants. We ask that You look after Brady tomorrow. Please keep him and his teammates safe from harm. Allow him to do his best as he glorifies Your name. We thank You for all that You give us: the many blessings; the love. In Jesus’ name we pray. Amen,” Mom said.

“Amen,” I said. Then I started my prayer. “Dear Lord, we come to You on bended knee. I ask that You look after my mother tonight and tomorrow. Make sure that she arrives home safely. I also ask that You look after both teams tomorrow. Allow us to play our best and keep every player, coach, fan, and cheerleader from harm’s way. Make sure that we all understand that this is only a game and nothing is important unless we put You first. Thank You for the blessings and the talent You have given me. And thank You for the best mother in the world. Amen.”

“That was lovely, Brady. It all starts again tomorrow. Good luck, baby.”

“Thank you, Mom. I love you.”

“I love you and I’m so proud of you.”

“You think my dad would be proud of me?” I asked.

My mother didn’t answer. There was silence sandwiched between Delmar’s snoring.

“Mom? Are you still there?”

“Yes, your father would be very proud of you,” she said in a hushed voice.