Single Mom (54 page)

I followed him back into the house, thinking that Camellia may have been on to something.

When he walked back out after speaking briefly to the boys, I pressed him. “So, how come I can’t know where we’re going?” I asked again. I was getting extremely curious.

He let me in the car and asked, “Have you ever been to the Shark Bar?”

“I’ve heard of it, but I’ve never been there. No.”

“Well, that’s where we’re going.”

Maybe he shouldn’t have told me so quickly. I started thinking,
Is this place all that fabulous?
“Have
you
eaten there before?” I asked him. I hoped that he wasn’t taking me to one of his old stomping grounds.

He said, “No, but I did check the place out before making reservations.”

“What kind of place is it? It sounds like some kind of gangster hangout in a mobster movie. The Shark Bar.”

Brock broke out laughing. “Naw, it’s a nice place, very low-key, and plenty of black people there.”

“Is it black-owned?”

Brock grimaced. “Actually, I’m not sure. You know how some of these places are. You have black faces everywhere, but that doesn’t mean that we’re the majority owners. I hear that that’s the case with everything that has Michael Jordan’s name on it. And he can afford to be the sole owner.”

I smiled. I guess my Michael Jordan beefs were starting to rub off on him.

“You know, I heard he recently said he’s gonna start promoting a cheaper brand of shoes,” I commented.

Brock nodded. “Yeah, he finally realized that these young poor kids were killing themselves to buy his hundred and fifty dollar shoes, as if he didn’t know how much they cost all these years.”

“Well, he’s had a lot of things on his mind lately. We can’t expect him to be informed on everything. And at least he’s a good family man. You never hear about him getting into any kind of trouble.”

Brock looked at me and frowned. Then he broke into another laugh. “Ain’t this something,” he said. “Now it sounds like
you’re
defending him, and I’m ranting about him.”

I laughed at the irony myself. “Well, I just thought about it, you know. Sometimes it takes us time to realize things. I mean, Jordan came into the league very young and worked very hard at what he was doing, and he’s just now starting to pay attention to other things around him. It just took him a while to open his eyes to the real X’s and O’s and it’s
not
basketball.”

“Yeah, I guess everybody can’t be like Isiah Thomas,” Brock said.

I nodded. “You got that right. Because Isiah Thomas is ready to take care of business. Basketball ownership! That’s what
I’m
talking about! And he’ll get his chance, too. To hell with Canada!”

Brock chuckled. “Sounds like you’ve been watching the ESPN channel.”

“Yeah, well, if Jimmy’s going to be in line to get a basketball scholarship in three years, then I figured I’d better start paying attention to what’s going on.”

When we pulled up to the restaurant near downtown Chicago, Brock paid for valet parking.

“You were right, this place is low-key,” I told him. The Shark Bar had a space all to itself, like a warehouse property. “I would have never been able to find this place,” I commented.

We walked in, and Brock gave the receptionist his name.

“Okay, right this way.” The sister led us to our quarter moon-shaped booth. It wasn’t much of a fancy place, just very relaxing. It had an organic feel to it, with plenty of earth tones, space, and a brick wall background. I guess it
was
a warehouse, and they had done a heck of a job renovating the place into a restaurant. Before I knew it, I melted into my seat and felt totally at home.

“You know what? I think I like this place. It just feels
good
in here,” I commented.

Brock smiled at me. “Yeah, it has that laid-back, relaxed feeling, right?”

“Exactly. Because some of these restaurants try to be extra fancy and end up overdoing things.”

I looked over the menu to order a drink, and noticed that every employee there was black. I was tempted to ask somebody if it was black owned, but I just decided to enjoy it.

“I’ll have a martini,” I told our waitress.

Brock grinned. “Give me one of those, too.”

“Okay, that’s two martinis, and I’ll be right back with your salads.”

Even the waitresses had an organic mood to them. They were good-looking sisters who were too mellow to be snobbish, and too professional to be ghetto.

“You seem to be really enjoying yourself,” Brock commented.

“Oh, I am.”

“I’m glad you like it,” he told me. “So how has Nikita been doing lately?” he asked.

I stopped and thought about it. Then I shook my head. “Do you have to ruin my mood with that?” I asked with a smile. I was serious though. I didn’t need to think about Nikita. I had to check up on her and Cheron the whole time my mother was vacationing in Florida. Then I ended up watching Cheron for three days out of the nine that my mother was gone. And Nikita did have a nighttime job, but I didn’t want
to think about that either. The hours they had her working were plain ridiculous.

Brock said, “I’m sorry. I guess that was the wrong question to ask. I just figured I’d stop you from thinking about the restaurant so we can just enjoy each other. I mean, I like the place too, but damn!”

“So, I can’t get excited about something?”

“Oh, no, I’m not saying that. Trust me, I
love
when you get excited. I’d just rather have your excitement be about me.”

I broke out laughing. “I don’t believe that you’re jealous of a restaurant. And you’re the one who brought me here.”

“Well, I wouldn’t take it that far.”

I started rubbing the seat and the tablecloth, real seductively.

Brock was tickled by it. He snapped, “You cut it out right now, woman, or I’m leaving.”

We shared another laugh as our salads and drinks arrived.

“Are you ready to order yet?” our waitress asked us.

Time flew by, and we talked about everything under the full moon while we devoured our food. Then Brock asked me, “So, how do you see the rest of your life filling out?”

What kind of a question is that?
I thought. It just seemed so open-ended. I tried to answer it anyway. I said, “Well, I see both of my sons going to college and—”

“No, I’m talking about
your
life,” Brock responded, cutting me off.

I smiled and thought about Camellia. I guess a single mother really couldn’t separate her life from those of her kids. So much of our own lives were so intricately connected to theirs. It was like doing algebra, where the value of X depended on that of Y.

I thought about myself and said, “Well, I’ve been thinking about getting a bigger office space. My file cabinets are really starting to get crowded, and I want to make an extra set of backup files for all of my clients.”

Brock just shook his head. “You’re doing exactly what I thought you would do, talking about your sons and your work. I’m talking about you.”

“Well, what about me? My sons and my work aren’t a part of me?” I asked him. I figured out where he wanted to go. He wanted to talk about my social life, and that was as open-ended as his initial question.

“Have you ever thought about what happens when your sons
do
go away to college?” he asked me. “The years can fly past before you know it.”

“I guess it’ll be just me and you then,” I answered. I knew that Brock wasn’t expecting that.

He nodded and said, “Exactly.” Then he went inside of his suit jacket. “Denise, I’ve been thinking about this moment for months now, and I’m tired of putting it off.”

Oh my God!
I panicked. My hands started to shake as I took a sip of my water. Brock had totally caught me off guard. I was ready to tell him that I had to use the bathroom before he opened that black ring case he was holding. Ironically, I really did have to go, but I didn’t want to ruin his moment. Brock looked like a brown prince in shining armor who was offering a hand to the damsel in distress. How would I look telling him right then and there that I had to use the bathroom? And there I was drinking more water out of pure nervousness and shock. I was just pulling his leg when I said that we would be together after my boys went off to college. I wasn’t serious! It would have been nice, but—

“Denise, will you marry me?”

The ring was right there in my face, a full carat. It had three circles with the two outside circles twisting diagonally into the middle circle which held the diamond. It was beautiful! Absolutely beautiful!

Oh my God, I’m going to pee on myself inside of this restaurant!
I climbed up out of my seat and said, “I’ll be right back,” to run off to the bathroom. That’s when I noticed people peeking in our direction.
Oh my God!
I told myself again. I prayed that I could make it to the bathroom before I injured something. The Lord showed me the way, and boy did it feel good. But when I was finished, I had to face Brock and everyone else who saw that ring being offered to me. Suddenly I wished that the Shark Bar was darker, and crowded, and noisy, and everything else that I could possibly hide in.

Brock had really done it to me! I knew I couldn’t leave him out there for too long. I’m sure that he was dying from the suspense.

“
Oh
, I wasn’t ready for this!” I hollered at the mirror. “I just wasn’t ready for this!”

A sister walked in and looked at me as if I were crazy.

“Oh, don’t mind me,” I told her. “I
am
crazy.” I would say anything to release some of the anxiety I was feeling. However, with the sister in the bathroom with me, I knew I couldn’t stand there and mumble to myself like I wanted to, so I slowly walked out, thinking a mile a minute.

Everything was in slow motion as I walked back up the steps from the rest room area.

Oh my God!
I didn’t know what else to tell myself. I was walking on eggshells.

Dammit, I am turning thirty-five years old!
I told myself. Suddenly, I
found the strength to march up them steps and handle my business like a grown woman. I strutted through that place like I owned it, and sat back down at my booth with Brock. He sat there and smiled at me, confident, looking good and smelling good, with that one carat open on the table. I got nervous all over again.

Oh my God!
I wanted to go back to the bathroom.

“Do you have to go to the bathroom now?” I asked him. I felt like a damn giddy teenager!

Brock stopped smiling. He said, “I understand how awkward this is for
both
of us, but I can’t keep holding this off. The sooner we get it out in the open, the better. I want us to be a part of each other
for real
, and I’m ready and willing to deal with whatever I have to deal with. Do you hear me, Denise?
Whatever
I have to deal with.”

I didn’t know what else to say. I finished my glass of water and looked for the waitress for a refill. “Ah, excuse me, can I have some more water, please. Thank you very much.”

Brock sat there and pushed that ring at me again. “Denise, the question is still standing.”

I looked away and tried to think. I needed time to think.
Just give me some time to think! Okay?
But I couldn’t say the damn words!

“Denise?”

I tried to act as if I were dreaming. Maybe Brock was calling me to wake me up. But when I turned my head to look at him, that ring was still in my face.

I dropped my face into my hands to hide myself from the attention. People were staring.
Dammit, Brock!
I just wasn’t prepared to answer a marriage proposal. Then he put his hand on my shoulder. The man couldn’t take a hint!

I took a deep breath, raised up my head, and said, “I am really … surprised.” Then I dropped my head back into my hands. I was as embarrassed as I ever could be. What happened to all of my strength? I felt like Samson with his hair cut off.

“I understand that,” Brock was saying, “but we’re not getting any younger.”

His hand was still on my shoulder. It felt like it weighed a ton. I was extra sensitive to touch, sound, taste,
everything
. I was just a wreck on the side of the road, waiting for the tow truck to come and get me. However, Brock wanted me to start up again and move on my own. I just couldn’t. I was in shock. Literally!

“Denise, what I want you to do is think about things over the next few
days, even a week if you have to, and I won’t bother you until you come up with a decision. In the meantime, I want you to keep the ring, because if you don’t, I won’t know what to do with myself. Okay? Can you at least do that for me?”

I looked at him and nodded without a sound, as he pressed the ring case into my palms. Talk about your waiting to exhale, I was waiting to be born again! I didn’t have much left to say for the rest of that night, as that ring case burned a hole in my hand all the way back to my house. By then it was close to midnight.

Brock walked me back to the front door and kissed me on the lips. “I have a three-day trip starting on Monday morning to Texas and Louisiana. You think you’ll need more time than that?”

I said, “We’ll see. I just need some time.”

Brock smiled and said, “I know exactly what you mean. You’re just a little nervous about it.”

“What about you?” I asked him.

“Well, once you get it out in the open, you calm down a bit.”

“So, that means you’re still nervous then, a little.” I didn’t want to be the only one.

“Big decisions are always difficult to come up with, Denise. But we have to get through nervousness. Otherwise, we would never make any big decisions. And trust me, I know plenty of brothers who are scared to death of that word ‘marriage,’ because they know that the word implies
wed-lock
. The
wed
part ain’t so bad, it’s the
lock
that kills them. Brothers hear that word
lock
and start running like slaves from a plantation.”

I smiled and said, “Yeah, but then they always want to come back for free milk and cotton.”