Never Too Soon

by Tamika Christy

  Supervisor Harris peered over her glasses. She was a barracuda, but she was a well-informed barracuda. She read every report that was given to her, no matter how long, and when she had questions, she wanted answers.

  Anaya opened her mouth, but Wendy cut in. Again, Anaya tried not to look irritated.

  “First of all, that is one of the most unyielding stipulations in the contract. We would not have gotten this far in the negotiations if it wasn’t.”

  “That doesn’t answer my question,” Supervisor Harris said. “I will repeat myself for the hard of hearing, like Ms. Woo. We’ve had these kinds of deals before with similar stipulations, and local contractors did not get the jobs. And as I look at this proposed agreement, I don’t see a specific stipulation for the developer to hire local contractors”

  “She might be able to answer you if she weren’t looking on fashionbombdaily-dot-com,” someone yelled from the audience.

  Anaya looked up at the balconies. The individual who had called out was sitting in the perfect position to see Wendy’s laptop screen.

  Busted.

  The audience booed, but Wendy’s face didn’t move. It couldn’t.

  “All she cares about is clothes and makeup,” someone else yelled.

  “Yeah, and her hair!”

  Chair Memphis hit his gavel against the dais several times. “Order! I want order in this chamber or I will clear it out,” he shouted unconvincingly.

  “Seems to me that Ms. Woo is too busy expanding her wardrobe to be bothered with our little meeting,” Supervisor Harris added, egging on the jeering crowd.

  “We don’t need the sarcasm, Ms. Harris,” Chair Memphis said. “It doesn’t help.”

  Wendy’s disapproving glare meant nothing to Supervisor Harris. In fact, if hurling a chair was a socially acceptable thing to do in these chambers, Wendy would be in trouble.

  “We also don’t need an overpaid Video Vixen to sit on the dais and play with her hair and makeup.” Harris’s voice was like ice. “We have serious issues before us, and we need the full attention of everyone, including Posh Spice over there.”

  “That’s an insult to Posh Spice!” someone yelled, and the audience jeered even louder.

  “Please,” Supervisor Harris said. “Now, I asked a question about local hiring, and I have yet to receive an answer. I’m not looking for smoke and mirrors. I’m looking for real solutions and real jobs for real people.”

  The crowd jeered again.

  Chair Memphis rattled his gavel against the dais. “I want order in this room!” he yelled. “Now Ms. Woo, are you prepared to answer Supervisor Harris’s question about the jobs policy?”

  “There are stipulations in place to ensure local hiring and contracting,” Wendy said. “We are looking at residency and education, as well as hiring individuals at both the apprenticeship and journeyman levels.”

  “Sounds good, but is it true?” someone yelled from the chamber.

  “If there is one more outburst, I will clear this chamber, and there won’t be a meeting at all!” Chair Memphis said, raising his voice again. He glared out at the crowd, then looked at Wendy. “I have also looked through the proposed agreement and I agree with Supervisor Harris. Admittedly, it’s a huge document and I may not have read every single word, but I didn’t see any stipulations in place to ensure local hiring.”

  Anaya saw her chance to clarify. “There is nothing in the—”

  Wendy immediately cut her off. “We, uh, did notice some provisions were missing. We have an amended agreement that includes local hiring stipulations.”

  Anaya raised her eyebrows. There was no amended agreement, and Anaya knew for certain that the current agreement didn’t include local hiring provisions. When Wendy had reviewed the draft, she had cut those provisions, saying they weren’t necessary. Anaya had fought her on it, but according to Wendy, strict provisions frightened prime developers off. Anaya knew better but decided to let it play out with the board.

  “Well, where is the amended version?” Chair Memphis asked, shuffling through the papers before him.

  “It didn’t make it into the agenda packet,” Wendy responded, seemingly unmoved by the constant jeering from the public.

  Chair Memphis looked down his nose at her. “So what you’re telling this board is that for this multimillion-dollar project that we’ve been trying to get going for over a decade, you left out one of the most important components of this agreement that you’ve presented to us? I don’t think I have to remind you, Miss Woo, that as a governing body, our job is not only to ensure that development is fair, but that our local residents get jobs from these big development deals. That is an essential part of this entire agreement.”

  “I have to agree with Ms. Harris and Mr. Memphis,” Supervisor Buckingham said. “We need to see every piece of this deal. It’s very careless to leave out such an important provision.”

  “Unless you’re trying to hide something.” Supervisor Harris said sharply.

  After Wendy dodged the board’s bullets and the verbal bashing from the crowd for a few more rounds, Supervisor Fernandez spoke.

  “Enough about the local contractors. What I want to know is what we are going to do about prostitution on the base. There’s nothing in the agreement about that.” He had campaigned on cleaning up prostitution in the county and was relentless in his pursuit to make good on his promise—even at the expense of an agreement that was primarily focused on housing and jobs. “We are trying to use this base as a place to generate revenue, and there is prostitution going on over there. There are johns picking women up all the time. Everybody knows it’s going on, but no one wants to talk about it.”

  “Supervisor Fernandez,” Wendy said like his name was acid. “We are not aware of any prostitution being committed on the base at this time.”

  “Well, I have heard from many of my constituents that there was prostitution on the base. I don’t see anything in this agreement that provides funding to eliminate the problem. Who are the johns? Are they members of the service? Random men off the street?” He slammed his hand against the dais.

  “Ms. Goode, can you please respond to that?” Wendy asked.

  “Yes.” Anaya spoke into the microphone. “There have been no reports of crime in recent history, including prostitution. Since the military and all of the businesses moved off the base, the facilities have mostly been used for recreational soccer practice for children. As far as we know, there is no illegal activity occurring on the base and the police and sheriff departments have not received any complaints.”

  Fernandez gazed off in confusion for a moment before leaning into his microphone. “Thank you.”

  Anaya survived the next hour and a half of discussions, and in the end, the board directed Anaya to return in sixty days with a final revised agreement for them to approve that included the local hiring provisions. Anaya was also directed to move forward with putting out the request for proposals to all the contractors in the county, assuming the revised agreement would include local hiring provisions.

  After the meeting, Anaya returned to her office with the four senior managers who had been present at the meeting and did a quick debrief. They had all worked tirelessly on this agreement and this was a significant win for them.

  “All right, guys, so we got the green light,” Anaya said. They sat around one end of the long conference table that could seat twenty. Each manager had a pen and notebook ready. Anaya didn’t mess around, not at eleven o’clock on a Monday night. “We have to get this RFP out to all the registered contractors in the city. Tom, your team will be responsible for making sure the lists of contractor addresses we have is up-to-date. Nancy, get your people to start setting up community meetings within fifteen square miles of the base to get community input. Becks, tell your team to brush up on our local hiring provisions because we will start to get questions. Everyone will come to you for answers when they have questions about local hiring. Andrew, help the others but be prepared fo
r those bids to come swarming in—a lot of folks will want a piece of this pie. Your group will be responsible for coming up with a system to keep the bids organized and categorized.”

  The group fell silent as their pens scribbled. Anaya looked up and saw Jayde walk into the conference room. Anaya held up a finger, and Jayde nodded and took a seat in the back of the room.

  “I need you to anticipate calls from the press,” Anaya told them. “Please forward the calls to me if you don’t have solid answers to their questions. I do not want line staff fielding those calls.” When each manager had finished writing, she met their eyes one by one. “We have to be careful with this one, guys. This base hasn’t been open in over a decade. It’s big local news. And all eyes are on us.” Anaya sighed and leaned back in her chair. “That’s it. I’ll answer any questions you have tomorrow. Thanks for staying tonight.”

  The managers shuffled out, and Jayde followed Anaya to her office.

  “What the hell is wrong with Wendy?” Jayde seethed when they were comfortably seated on the couch in Anaya’s office with the door closed.

  “Girl, I have no idea. She’s nuts.”

  “I thought we were all on the same team. How did you guys forget to send the amended agreement to my office to put in the agenda packet?”

  “We didn’t forget, Jayde. There’s no amended agreement,” Anaya said in a low voice, even though everyone was gone.

  Jayde’s eyes were as wide as saucers. “What? She lied?”

  Anaya confirmed Jayde’s charge by folding her arms and pursing her lips.

  “That bitch is crazy. I think she’s up to something, Ny. Forgetting an amendment like that is too much, even for her.”

  Anaya sighed. “I don’t get it. Wendy is a lunatic but she has a reputation for being above board. What could she be up to?”

  “Are you joking? This is a huge project. If Wendy is messing with contractor negotiations, it sounds to me like she has a preferred contractor for the job—one that’ll give her a cut of the profits.”

  Anaya started to laugh but saw Jayde was serious. She shook her head. “I don’t know, Jayde, Wendy has enough money, and her character means everything to her. But listen, I’ll think on what you said. I gotta get over to Carl’s house before it’s too late.”

  “Well, don’t let me hold you.” Jayde grinned.

  “I’ll see you for lunch on Friday, right?”

  “Not this week. Nick and I are going to Mexico for the weekend. We leave Thursday and get back on Sunday.”

  Anaya cocked her head. Again? Didn’t they just get back from Paris? “Well, have fun, girl. I’ll have Natalie put something on the calendar for next week.”

  On her drive to Carl’s house, Anaya thought about Wendy’s lies. She was starting to have a bad feeling about this project. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but something wasn’t right.

  SEVEN

  “Auntie Ny!”

  “Hi, sweetie.” Hezekiah grabbed Anaya around the knees. His Spider-Man t-shirt was too small, and he proudly wore a milk mustache. He locked the door after Anaya stepped inside and followed her into the living room. Anaya yelped as she almost scraped her Prada pumps on a fire truck.

  Large plastic bins were everywhere, and a stack of laundry lay untouched on the couch. Family pictures lined the walls, including one of her mom above the fireplace. Ava’s house was lovely—when it was clean. The eggshell colored molding, large bay window, and high ceilings made the place feel much bigger than it actually was.

  Anaya made her way carefully over to the couch. “Who said you could open the door, sweetie?”

  “Mommy said I could.” He was a miniature version of Joe except much, much louder. His piercing green eyes were bright behind the eyeglasses Anaya had bought him last year.

  Anaya sat down on the couch and immediately jumped up again. “Ouch!”

  “Dino the dinoswaur!” Hezekiah tripped in his rush to get to his beloved toy. “I’ve been wooking ebywhere for him!” Anaya wondered if his sessions with the speech therapist were helping.

  Hezekiah’s older brother, Jeremiah, swooped into the living room and grabbed Dino from Hezekiah.

  “Give him back, we were tawking,” the smaller boy cried.

  “You can’t talk to a dinosaur, that’s dumb.”

  “Don’t call me dumb!”

  “Well, if you can’t say ‘dinosaur,’ you are dumb.”

  “Hey!” Anaya took Dino from Jeremiah. “Dino and I are going to chill for a bit, so why don’t you two go and play in your rooms.”

  Jeremiah ran off, but Hezekiah looked at her with big eyes. “Will you give him back to me?”

  “Yes I will. When I leave.”

  Hezekiah pouted for a moment but eventually picked up a red car and began talking to it.

  Ava walked into the living room and wiped her hands on an apron that read “Jesus is My Homeboy.” Her reddish-brown coils were piled high, and her skin was bright. Ava was a free spirit who didn’t conform to traditional ideas of eating, fashion, or health care. She preferred all-natural foods, holistic remedies for illnesses, and talked about homeschooling the boys because she didn’t want “secular influences.” Anaya didn’t care about secular influences, but homeschooling the boys meant Ava couldn’t get a full-time job, and that was a problem.

  “Hezekiah, go and play with your brothers,” Ava directed. No response. Hezekiah was having a conversation with his red car about the sun and how it made everything warm. Ebwything.

  When he didn’t leave, Ava didn’t push. Discipline wasn’t high on Ava and Joe’s list of priorities. In fact, discipline lived in the sunken place with gainful employment, aspiration, and good housekeeping. Ava let the boys have their way so she didn’t have to deal with tantrums. Anaya disciplined her nephews on occasion, like when she babysat, but it was becoming harder to get them to listen, especially Jeremiah. She had told Ava more than once that the boys were getting out of control, but Ava refused to take advice from someone without children. Instead, she always had an excuse for why the boys didn’t listen.

  Ava and Anaya tried to talk, but it was nearly impossible because whenever one of them spoke, Hezekiah yelled “yogurt truck!” at the top of his lungs. He followed them into the kitchen and back into the living room, continuing to disrupt anything they said.

  “Hezekiah, Mommy asked you to go to the room with your brothers,” Ava repeated firmly. Hezekiah didn’t even seem to hear her.

  After he ignored Ava three more times, Anaya grabbed Hezekiah by the arm and pulled him to his feet.

  “Your mom said go to the room with your brothers, didn’t she?” Anaya looked him in the eyes. He nodded. “Then go on.”

  Hezekiah ran off while Ava busied herself with the laundry on the sofa.

  For a moment, Anaya reveled in the newfound silence. Then the smell hit her. “What are you cooking?” Everything Ava cooked smelled awful.

  “Tofu meatballs.”

  It didn’t smell like tofu or meatballs. Anaya hoped Ava wouldn’t ask her to stay for dinner. If she had any chance of getting out of there, she would need to leave soon.

  “There is no such thing as tofu meatballs.”

  “Sure there is. You staying for dinner?”

  “If you put some turkey meat in there, I might.” Anaya preferred turkey and fish for her protein.

  “Turkeys are friends, not food, Ny.”

  “Turkeys are your friends, not mine.”

  “Can I get you anything else? Tiger nuts? Kale chips?” Ava asked brightly.

  “No thank you. I prefer food with flavor.”

  “Okay. Just keep consuming animal flesh and industrially produced foods. I’m sure your body just loves it.”

  Anaya’s bag buzzed, and, she instinctively pulled out her work phone.

  Ava made a tsk sound. “And staring at that phone screen all the time. I’m telling you, that’s how brain cancer develops. Do you know how many new cases of brain cancer are reported each year?�
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  “No.” Anaya kept her eyes on her phone.

  “Can you at least try to be present for five minutes, sister dear?”

  Anaya ignored her sister, typing out a quick response to fix the wording on the development agreement. It needed more emphasis on the local contractors.

  “I see you are working yourself to the ground again. You won’t take your eyes off that thing. And why don’t you have an iPhone like everybody else?”

  “The Blackberry is more secure.” Anaya still didn’t look up.

  “Whatever. The evening news reported the board wants to reopen that navy base. Not a good idea, Ny. One of my church members has a cousin whose nephew got robbed on that base years ago. They need to keep that Sodom and Gomorrah shut down.”

  “Sodom and Gomorrah, Ava?” Anaya looked up briefly. “You are so dramatic sometimes. If the base is reopened, it would generate revenue and create jobs. That’s pretty far from Sodom and Gomorrah, I would say.”

  “Dramatic? I’m not dramatic, but you, my dear sister, are easily swayed. Do you know why God destroyed Sodom and Gomorrah, Anaya?”

  Anaya hit send and put her phone away with a sigh. “Ava, please. Not tonight.”

  “I want an answer. Do you know why God destroyed Sodom and Gomorrah?”

  “I said not tonight.”

  “That’s because you don’t know why.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Then why?”

  “What? You don’t believe I know?”

  “I believe you, I’m just trying to make a point.”

  Anaya paused briefly, wondering how she got herself into this conversation. “God destroyed Sodom and Gomorrah because of vileness.”

  “Exactly! And the things that went on at that base were vile.” Ava said vile like she could taste it. “Anyway, that base should stay shut down. It’s not your fault if the project doesn’t move forward.”