The Company We Keep (15 page)

“I
have to admit that I wasn’t prepared for that kind of response. To all my listeners, I want to say that I am truly sorry…” Harrison’s words puzzled Teri.

“Sure he is,” Nicole said with a chuckle, sarcasm dripping from her lips like hot wax.

“What did I miss?”

“He was spewing some chauvinistic shit about how a woman’s role was to always put her man very high on her list of priorities—if she wants to keep him out of the ‘other’ woman’s bed…”

“Girl, you have got to be kidding!” Teri said with a profound gasp. She stood there in slack-jawed amazement. “Harrison? Has the man lost his mind?”

“No wonder you didn’t stay with him…”

Teri gritted her teeth and considered Nicole’s comment. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I know you, and I know you do not put your man that high on your list of priorities. I’d say you put your shoes higher on the scale than your man.”

A worried look crossed Teri’s face. “Is that what you think? Nicole, you know that’s not true. I work hard at my relationships,” Teri said defensively. “And by the way, you haven’t been in a real
relationship yourself since last year,” she reminded, unable to hold back a grin.

“Touché,” Nicole responded with a sigh. She gave Teri a pensive look before she continued. “I still can’t believe that Harrison chose that nasty-ass Mia over you to take home from Carla’s party. I bet she’s the kind of woman who would even put her man before the good Lord.”

“Maybe she does, but that still doesn’t mean a damn thing. You do remember that she had come to the party with Dwight. Whatever she was doing to hold on to him didn’t work if she left with another man.”

“Some men are so trifling,” Nicole decided, throwing her hands up in the air.

“I won’t argue with you there,” Teri said. Harrison’s seemingly sincere apology on the radio had not softened her.

Teri attempted to keep her mind on her work and off men the rest of the day, but a man like Harrison was hard not to think about. Despite the fact that they had not been able to maintain their relationship, she gave him a lot of high marks on her imaginary checklist of what she wanted in a man. In her opinion he was handsome, not
cute.
She hated that word when it came to describing adults. Babies, puppies, and dancing bears were cute. He was intelligent, sensitive, generous, dapper, and he possessed a fantastic sense of humor. He also loved kids…

She was glad when her line rang. To get her mind off Harrison she reached for it, but Nicole grabbed it on the second ring. With the door to her office open she could hear Nicole’s end of the conversation.

“If that’s not Trevor’s producer, get him on the line,” she yelled to Nicole. “And when you do get ahold of him, I want you to remind him that
I said
: we don’t do business by a CP’s time clock. This ‘Colored People’s time’ bullshit does not sit too well with me.” Teri muttered the rest of her comment in a low voice but Nicole heard it anyway. “That’s why the rest of
us
have to work so hard to make up for that shit.”

Nicole gave her a blank look and nodded her head in agreement. “Yes, this is Teri Stewart’s office…oh, hello,
Harrison,
” Nicole announced, looking through Teri’s opened door with her eyes stretched open so wide she looked as though she’d just stepped on a live wire.

Teri blinked rapidly several times and tried not to look as goofy as Nicole. Just the mention of that man’s name made Teri stiffen. That was bad enough. But she also felt like she had turned into a pillar of salt. What was even worse was the sudden warm itch in her crotch! With an amused look on her face, Nicole waved at Teri and pointed to the telephone. The timing was unbelievable. With Harrison on the telephone asking to speak to Teri, Eric, the man who made Nicole wet between her legs, suddenly strolled into the reception area.

Working the hell out of a denim jacket and matching jeans, he stopped in front of Nicole’s desk. Like a robot, she turned her head to keep from looking at him right away.

“Hold on,” she said into the telephone receiver, trying to sound as professional as she could. “Uh, Teri, it’s Harrison Starr calling from the radio station,” she reported. “Are you available to take his call?”

“I’ll be with him momentarily,” Teri said, her voice cracking. She bounced out of her office and rushed up to Eric and gave him a warm hug.

“Got it,” Nicole told her. “Harrison, she will be right with you.” As familiar as Nicole was with the features on the telephone on her desk, she hit three wrong buttons before she hit the hold button.

Eric was amused by this little exchange, but he managed not to show it. “I don’t mind waiting.” His eyes were on Nicole’s face. His gaze was so intense she felt like a burning bush.

“That’s all right, Eric. Harrison is not going anywhere,” Teri decided. She gave Nicole a confused look and held up one finger.
Why the hell is that man calling me?
she wondered. She beckoned for Eric to follow her into her office.

Nicole removed a bottle of water from her purse. She didn’t know who was more stunned, her or Teri. She took a few sips,
then wet a tissue and wiped the back of her neck. She sucked in her breath and looked toward Teri’s door.

Teri waved Eric to one of the two high-back guest chairs facing her desk. While Nicole was still staring at Teri’s door, Teri came back out. She gently closed the door behind her and moved swiftly to the side of Nicole’s desk.

“What the hell does Harrison want?” she asked. Nicole waited for Miguel and several other coworkers to pass by before she replied.

“He didn’t say,” Nicole muttered with a questioning look. “I was hoping you’d tell me…”

“Shit,” Teri mouthed. “I certainly was not expecting a call from him.”

“Do you want me to tell him you’ll call him back?” Nicole questioned.

“No, I’ll be with him in a second.” Then, like she was talking to herself, she added, “I have to keep reminding myself that we don’t want to get on his bad side. We’d be up a shitty creek with a broken paddle if his station ever decided to stop promoting our music.”

Nicole took a deep breath and nodded toward Teri’s office. “Uh, what about Eric?”

“What about him? Oh, he’s only here to discuss a photo shoot. That blind rapper, remember?” Teri said, looking at the blinking red light on the telephone as if it were a ticking bomb. “We both need to get a grip. All we need is for Victor to strut up in here and see us both acting like a couple of schoolgirls.”

“To
dick
with Victor,” Nicole mouthed. “He don’t sign my paycheck, you do,” she added, speaking in an exaggerated urban street fashion and rotating her neck ghetto style for more emphasis.

“Well, as your supervisor, I demand that you get back to work,” Teri said, knowing damn well that she didn’t even know how to scold Nicole properly. Nicole knew it, too. Teri’s words rolled off her back like water off a duck’s.

“If you need me to take notes for you and Eric, buzz me,” Nicole told Teri.
“Please!”

Teri glanced at Nicole and gave her a wan smile. But then she sucked in a deep breath and shook her finger at Nicole. “You—
you behave yourself! Go stick a tampon in that crack of yours if you’ve got to have something in it.” Nicole just blinked and shrugged. Teri exhaled and returned to her office, gently closing the door behind her.

“My budget estimate for the next shoot,” Eric began as soon as Teri returned to her desk and composed herself.

“Yes, uh, do you mind if I take this call before we get started?” she asked, already reaching for her telephone. Before Eric could respond and before she could pick up her line, the red light stopped blinking. “Harrison?” she said, hearing only a dial tone. She hung up and looked at Eric with a smile. “I guess it wasn’t that important if he couldn’t wait.”

“I guess it wasn’t,” he agreed with a shrug. He cleared his throat and removed his paperwork from his battered briefcase.

U
nlike some of Carla Andrews’s other patients, who didn’t care one way or the other, Harrison Starr didn’t want anybody to know that
he
was seeing her on a professional basis, too. A big, strong, strapping brother like him would never admit to his homeboys that he had problems he couldn’t deal with on his own.

He recalled his uncle Ed who had had an emotional breakdown when his wife Vera left him for another man. Instead of getting the professional help he needed, he’d turned to his church. It had been ten years since Uncle Ed’s breakdown and so far nothing Reverend Spencer had told him had done any good. He was as depressed as ever. And what good did it do to just talk to a preacher? Most of the old people that Harrison knew were just as qualified to offer as much psychological advice as any preacher he knew. Some even more so. Ninety-five-year-old Aunt Bessie, still living on her own, could put Dr. Phil to shame.

The last time he did try to get some useful advice from Reverend Spencer was a couple of years ago when he thought he was going to lose his job due to budget cuts. All the good preacher did for him was tell him to go home and read his Bible and drink some hot toddy or some tea. Aunt Bessie had not even been able
to pull him out of the doldrums that time, either. A few sessions with Carla had done him a world of good. Her advice gave him more confidence and the initiative he needed to take care of his business. Even though he’d sent his resume to other broadcasting institutions, he prepared himself for the worst. He had even obtained the address of the nearest unemployment office. Fortunately for him, everything regarding his job eventually worked out in his favor. He refused to talk to anybody but a professional these days. What if he needed some type of medication for the rare times he experienced depression? Other than suggesting a hot toddy or some warm tea, preachers and old sisters couldn’t help him. Besides, Carla was so much easier to deal with.

“Well, are you going to talk or do you plan to spend the entire session wearing out my new carpet?” Carla asked. She leaned back in her chair as Harrison paced back and forth in front of her desk like a panther. He had been in her office for ten minutes and this was as far as he’d gotten.

“I’m trying to get my thoughts together,” he explained. He plopped down hard in the chair facing Carla. Behind the chair he occupied was a black vinyl couch that was available if a patient wanted to stretch out during or throughout his or her session. It was rarely used. As a matter of fact, it was used more as a trampoline by Carla’s kids than it was for anything else. For some reason, Carla’s patients seemed to prefer to sit in the chair and face her, pace back and forth, look out the back window, or all three.

“I feel like a punk coming to talk to you after so long. After things got straightened out at work that time, I didn’t think I’d ever need to talk to you again,” Harrison said, looking embarrassed. “Especially not about…a damn woman.”

Carla looked so regal and wise sitting with her arms folded across her chest. He never knew what to expect from her. “A damn woman that you happen to be hopelessly in love with.” That was not exactly what he wanted to hear, but she was the psychiatrist.

“I don’t know about being ‘hopelessly in love’ with her, or anybody else for that matter,” Harrison replied, his hand held up in a defensive gesture. “I’ve been with a lot of women. I know a lot of women. Beautiful, successful women! I could pick up the tele
phone right now and call any one of them and they’d be glad to hear from me.”

“Every one of them except Teri Stewart,” Carla said with a shrug. Oh, this sister was enjoying every moment of this! It was times like this when she almost wished she didn’t have psychic abilities. She already knew how the situation between Teri and Harrison was going to play out.

Harrison shot Carla a sharp look. “The last time I called her up, she brushed me off like I was a piece of lint! She had Nicole put me on hold, and she never did come to the phone.” He didn’t even attempt to hide the bitterness in his voice.

“How long did you wait?”

“I waited long enough, that’s how long I waited. Like I said, I know a lot of other women. I don’t have to run after one…”

“I know you don’t. But if you want to be with the woman you love, or think you love, you have to put forth some effort. Securing a relationship takes a lot of effort. You have to let her know you want her.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to do! I’ve been trying to get back with her for weeks. You saw how hard I tried at your party. What do I have to do to make her see that?”

“Well, for one thing, you can stop taking other women home with you right up under Teri’s nose.”

Harrison gasped so hard he started to choke on some air. Carla quickly leaned across her desk and slapped him rapidly on his back; he had to do some deep coughing to clear his windpipe. After he’d composed himself, he looked at Carla like she had slapped his face, too. “You…how…Teri knows about that?” A confused look crossed his face. “That was nothing,” he insisted. “There was nothing to that.”

“That’s not what it looked like.”

“No, I am serious. Nothing happened. I didn’t do anything with Mia. I mean, we kissed a few times before we left your party, but that was all.”

“Where did you go after you left my party?”

Harrison looked even more confused. For a moment, to Carla it looked like he couldn’t or didn’t want to answer her question.

“My place.” He held up his hands. “But nothing happened.”

“Why did you take her to your place? What did you expect from her? I know Mia well enough to know that she doesn’t follow a man home from a party to watch a movie on the Lifetime channel.”

“I did not fuck that woman, but I wanted to. I am not going to lie about that,” Harrison admitted, scratching the side of his cheek. “But I didn’t.”

He didn’t know that Carla was psychic and she didn’t want him to know. That was the only reason she didn’t tell him that she knew he had not slept with Mia.

“Hmm,” Carla replied, looking at him from the corner of her eye.

“Look, whatever I planned to do with Mia was only for recreation.”

“Did Mia know that?”

Harrison twiddled his thumbs. “Carla, I don’t want to spend my session talking about Mia. That woman didn’t mean a damn thing to me that night, and she never will. Yes, I paid her some attention at your party, she made sure of that. Yes, I took her home. Teri had made it clear that she was not interested in going home, or anywhere else, with me. And I had been drinking…”

“Harrison, how do you think Teri felt when she saw you leave my house with a known slut like Mia?”

“I wouldn’t know. She didn’t tell me. As a matter of fact, I haven’t spoken to Teri since your party. I tried to, but like I told you, she didn’t take my call.” Harrison gave Carla a guarded look. “I think she thinks I’m playing games with her feelings.”

Carla nodded. “I can see why.”

“Excuse me?”

“Teri Stewart is nobody’s fool. She is one of the most level-headed women I know and she’s not one to make foolish choices. You know her well enough to know that. She’s been through a lot for a woman her age. Not only did she lose her parents at a young age, but now she’s in a position where she’s assumed a similar role herself.”

“Where are you going with this?”

“I know your relationship with Teri didn’t last that long, but did you meet her grandparents?”

“I did. We spent our first Sunday together in church with them and later that same day we had dinner at Roscoe’s House of Chicken ’n Waffles, one of her favorite restaurants. I’ve never been to the elder Stewarts’ home, though.”

“Did you notice how she interacted with them? They took care of her when she needed it, now she’s taking care of them. Emotionally at least. And from what I can see, she’s doing a damn good job. Here is a sister not even thirty yet. She’s got a job that most people twice her age couldn’t land, or handle. She’s got herself together in every other area. The fact that she has not been in a relationship for several months now says a lot about her. She’s not one to jump into anything too quickly. And if she does, she jumps out in time to avoid too much conflict. From what you’ve told me, Teri is not going out of her way to resume her relationship with you. She must have given it a lot of thought. Maybe she feels that she’s better off without you in her life.”

“That’s the way it looks to me, too. And maybe I should forget about her,” Harrison said, raising his voice. He was beginning to feel hot under the collar. “She’s not doing a damn thing to help restore our relationship.”

“But she still interests you anyway? Have you considered the fact that since things have not worked in your favor so far, you should move on?”

“That’s my next move, I guess.” Harrison looked at his fingers, then twiddled them again for a few moments before he looked back up at Carla. “I’ve run into her several times since our breakup. That party on New Year’s Eve at the rapper’s house. Your party. And even before that. It seemed like no matter where I went, there she was.”

“How did she react when she saw you those other times?”

“She didn’t.”

“Excuse me?”

“If she even saw me, she didn’t let me know. And each time I was with somebody else.”

“Well, under those circumstances, how else could she react to seeing you?”

Harrison held up both hands again and waved them above his head in surrender. “You got me! I can’t argue with you because I know I can’t win.” There was a weak smile on his lips.

“Harrison,
why
are you here?” Carla asked, making a sweeping gesture with her hand. She paused and dipped her head, eyeing Harrison in a way that made him nervous, something most women couldn’t do.

“I needed to talk to somebody,” he said with a shrug. “I couldn’t think of a better person than you.” He leaned back in his seat and winked at her. “And since I can’t afford Dr. Phil…” Harrison sucked in his breath and got serious. “I always feel better after I talk with you. Maybe you should change your name to Dr. Feel-good.” He laughed sharply. Carla’s face remained straight. She did not see any humor in his comment.

“Maybe I will,” she told him as she rose and looked at her watch, indicating that the session was over.

One thing that Carla Andrews would never have to worry about was running out of business. The truth of the matter was, she had been referring potential clients to some of her colleagues. She laughed to herself every time she thought about all the times her parents had told her she was “crazy” for considering a career as a psychiatrist. “Black folks ain’t crazy—they don’t need that kind of mess,” she had been told. Not just by her parents, but by others as well. But she had made up her mind years before she’d ever told anybody what she wanted to do. It pleased her to know that half of her clients were not black. The brassy blond woman who had stumbled in before Harrison had admitted to her that she felt more comfortable sharing her feelings with a black person. She’d been raised by a black nanny and according to her, “black folks are naturally more insightful than white folks.” Carla didn’t agree or disagree with that assessment, but she had more than a little confidence in her abilities. The fact that her clients kept coming back said a lot about her.

After Harrison’s departure just after one
P.M
., three more sad sacks shuffled in.