by Zuri Day
As they reached the bleachers, Reggie poked Dominique in the side. “Miss Dom, please tell me what that child is wearing.”
Dominique’s eyes immediately went to the woman who’d captured Reggie’s attention. She was hard to miss, dressed in white skintight pants, body-hugging top, and thigh-high boots. She looked dressed more for an eighties throwback party than an elementary school sporting event.
Dominique shrugged as she sat. “Maybe the white is symbolic of a hurricane... you know, the wind, water...”
“Miss Dom, that outfit is more symbolic of the aftermath!”
Dominique laughed, the warm, throaty sound spilling over the packed crowd. While checking her e-mails and texting, she continued being entertained by Reggie’s commentary, totally unaware of a pair of smoldering eyes that kept darting in her direction.
Soon, Reggie poked her again. “There he is, Miss Dom!” He pointed toward the group of players dressed and running from the locker room to the sidelines. “Your son looks ready to play in the big leagues.”
Dominique smiled and waved as she caught Justin’s eye. Reggie was right. Justin did look rough and rugged outfitted as he was in football gear. And was it her imagination or had he grown a couple more inches in the last month? Her little boy was growing up, fast. In a few short years he’d be gone. Dominique batted back unexpected tears and a wave of melancholy. Since he’d been born, Justin had been her anchor. While men, jobs, and circumstances came and went, her son was the constant in her life, her primary focus for eleven years. Dominique watched him warm up with the other boys: jumping jacks, push-ups, and short sprints. How will my life look once he’s spread his wings and left the nest?
Her eyes drifted from her son to the sidelines where Jake, surrounded by assistant coaches and other personnel, held a clipboard in one hand and marker in the other. He was scribbling, pointing. What he was explaining Dominique could only guess. Whatever it was must have been important as Jake had the men’s undivided attention. He had hers as well. Dominique watched his gestures, remembering how skilled were the fingers that had massaged even as they’d explored and become familiar with every inch of her five-foot-nine frame. Her body warmed as she watched him talk, remember how good those lips felt... everywhere. She scanned his back, buttocks, thick strong thighs, and her hands longed to do the same. She’d willed herself not to think about what could not be, at least not now. But there was no denying the facts and the fact was... she missed him.
Jake prowled the sidelines, his eyes riveted to each play. He clapped, cheered, scolded, and encouraged his players, even as he worked to keep his mind off of the person dominating his thoughts, the woman who’d had the nerve to show up at the game with a date! As if by sixth sense, he’d looked up just in time to see her climb the bleachers with what looked like a man plucked from the Bill Pickett rodeo. It was the twenty-first century. What dude wore a shoestring tie these days? Still, a wave of jealousy had swept over him, especially when the man had touched Dominique’s arm and guided her into the bleachers before taking the aisle seat. The man was about six feet, on the slender side, and looked like he spent a considerable amount of time in the mirror. Just like her to want a pretty boy, a little eye candy on her arm. Jake had never felt so possessive, not even with his former wife. But in seeing them, Jake had the urge to walk over and throttle the dude, the man who had the nerve to mess with his woman. My woman? Jake admonished himself, pushed the thought aside, and refocused on the game. Mine. The thought returned with fervor, it would not be denied. Because that’s what Dominique felt like to him—his woman. He sighed with the impossibility of it all.
Jake’s and Dominique’s thoughts about each other diminished under the Saturday sun and a fourth-quarter score with the Spartans leading by three. The Hurricanes were less than two minutes away from experiencing the loss Jake had warned them about. This was sixth-grade football but by the tension in the stands you couldn’t tell. Nails were chewed and muscles tensed as if this were the play-offs and money was on the line. Dominique’s eyes were glued to number twenty-one.
“Black cat straight!” Jake shouted out the call. Players scrambled into position. Shawn winked at Jake, who gave a curt nod in response. All of the players on the bench stood in solidarity as the active players took their places on the field. The opposing team’s fans shouted with ferocity, trying to shake the concentration of the Hurricanes’ quarterback. The offensive and defensive lines crouched into position, running backs traded places, centers ferociously looked each other dead in the eye.
“Two, zero, one, one, hike!” The center flicked the ball into Kareem Alexander’s capable hands. Kareem’s father had transferred him over to Middleton specifically because Jake coached there. Observing his natural throwing talent, Jake had moved him from running back to quarterback. Would the move pay off?
The running backs shot down the field with defenders hot on their trail. Justin hung back for a moment, and then with a quick shimmy shake, he shot past his defender. Towering over the other boys, he ran straight down the field, looked back, and held up his hand. Kareem nodded and cocked his arm, firing the perfectly spiraling ball in Justin’s direction. It was a bit high but Justin leaped up and made a one-arm catch. He came down almost thirty yards from the goal line as the Panthers’ safety rushed over to make the tackle. They collided but Justin, easily the bigger of the two, spun in the opposite direction and avoided being pulled down. The crowd was on its feet, holding their breath as the clocked ticked down to under a minute.
Dominique, who’d forgotten that she cared nothing for football, was on her feet with the rest of the crowd. “Run, Justin!”
Reggie chimed in beside her. “You go, boy. You better work!”
The referee’s arms shot up as Justin crossed into the end zone. Touchdown!
The crowd roared their approval as the boys on the bench ran onto the field to hug their teammates. There were still thirty-nine seconds on the clock but the game was as good as done. Dominique joined several of the other onlookers, especially parents, making their way towards the field. She waved frantically to get his attention, ready to help her son celebrate his fantastic run. Her boy looked good! Through the maze of helmet pats and butt swats he saw her, smiled, and waved back. She waited for him to run over and into her arms but he passed her with obviously another destination in mind. She turned to see where he was going, just in time to see him run into Jake’s open arms. Stepping back, Jake placed his hands on Justin’s shoulders, his look intense as he spoke. Justin stood stock-still, nodding occasionally. Dominique’s heart clenched as she observed what almost looked like a father-son moment. She watched as Justin took off his helmet, threw it near the benches, and fell in step beside Jake, who walked the length of the player’s benches congratulating the boys. She stood rooted to the top steps as other parents moved around her and down onto the field. Jake looked up and saw her. Their eyes caught and held.
“Miss Dom, girl, you’d better go and get your chocolate treat,” Reggie whispered, gently pushing on Dominique’s back.
Dominique shot a look over her shoulder. “Behave.” Yet Reggie’s words had propelled her feet forward and she went down the five short steps to the field below.
Justin saw his mom and waved her over to where he and Jake were standing. Keeping her eyes on the light of her life, she reached him and pulled him to her for a big embrace. “You did good, son,” she said, her eyes shining.
“It was Coach Mac,” Justin replied, still animated from the come-from-behind victory. “He devised the play and it was awesome, perfect, happened just like he said it would. Right, Coach?”
Jake gave Justin a playful punch. “If you say so,” he answered, his eyes never leaving Dominique’s face.
“It was a good game, Coach,” Dominique said, finally acknowledging him. The boys played almost as good as you look. The flutters came calling in spite of her resolve.
“Thank you.” Will you help me in an after-hours celebration? his expre
ssion seemed to say.
There was an awkward, tension-filled silence.
“It was good,” Reggie added. “But I can’t believe how you make these little boys beat up on each other. So violent!” He held out his hand. “I’m Reggie Williams, Miss Dom’s assistant.”
Jake shook Reggie’s hand, a smile dancing across his lips. “Jake McDonald.” He raised his brow. “Miss Dom?”
Before either Reggie or Dominique could respond, other parents and players surrounded Jake and the current that had run between the lovers was broken. Dominique stepped back, waiting for Justin to say good-bye to his teammates. She knew Reggie was getting antsy, since he was due to meet Quinn at the Kodak Theatre.
“Time’s a wastin’, sistah,” Reggie said, looking at his watch as if reading her mind.
“I know you’ve got to go. Justin!”
Justin ran over. “Mom, the team is going over to Coach’s house. Can I go? Please?”
“How will you get home?” Dominique asked, remembering what had happened the last time she’d stepped over the McDonald threshold.
“Coach will bring me.”
Dominique walked over to where Jake stood, politely interrupting the sports talk on the Hurricanes loosely resembling a team in the Pac-10. “The boys are going to your house?”
Jake’s dark, unreadable eyes bore into hers, before moving lower to her mouth and back up. “Yes.”
Dominique swallowed. “If Justin will call me, I’ll pick him up.”
“You’re not far. I’ll bring him home.”
“I don’t want to be a bother.”
Jake scanned her body again. “No bother.”
Dominique’s triple Ds heaved as she worked to calm her nerves. What is it about this guy that frazzles me so? Straightening her shoulders and tilting her chin, Dominique responded. “Fine.” But was it, really? Because at the thought of Jake McDonald in her home, the flutters started again.
19
Dominique watched television without seeing a thing. Before Justin got involved with football it was a rare Saturday that would find her home at this hour. Usually after working until seven or eight on Friday nights, she would join any number of the editors or other magazine staff and unwind around a piano bar, jazz quartet, dinner, and drinks. Concerts, theater, fundraisers, sporting events—her life was kept busy with invites to some of the best that Los Angeles had to offer. Saturdays were for sleeping in before putting in a good four to five hours at the office. But when it came to Justin and his love of sports, she’d made a decision to sacrifice her Saturday mornings during football season and involve herself in her son’s passion. She thought that it would bring them even closer than they were already. One thing was for sure, it was definitely bringing him closer to his coach.
Hearing a set of keys in the door, Dominique rose from an inclining to a sitting position, smoothed out her caftan, and muted the TV. Justin burst through the door, a laid-back Jake following behind him.
“Mom! I helped cook!” Justin ran over and sat next to Dominique. “Coach Mac made pizzas.”
“Pizza?” Dominique asked, casting a doubtful look at Jake. “That junky food?”
Justin shook his head. “No, these were healthy. We had a choice of sausage or pepperoni, and they were good!”
Dominique looked at Jake with the same quizzical expression. “Pepperoni?”
Jake lowered his eyes, and sat on the recliner opposite the sofa. Clearly, there was a p-word on his mind all right and it wasn’t a pizza topping.
Dominique picked up the vibe and try as she might, she couldn’t seem to control the order of things. One minute the three sat there talking, or mostly listening to Justin rattle on, and the next minute Justin announced that he was going to his room to watch movies. Just like that he, Dominique’s human buffer, was gone. The quiet—and Jake’s stare—were unnerving. Dominique resisted the urge to pick up the remote and unmute the TV. Refusing to feel uncomfortable in her own house, she pulled on her big-girl panties and smiled at Jake.
“Thanks for entertaining the teammates and bringing Justin home.”
Without saying a word, Jake stood, walked over and joined Dominique on the couch. “You’re welcome,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around her.
“Jake...” Anything further coming from Dominique’s lips got swallowed in his kiss—soft, languid, then growing in intensity. His tongue remembered every crevice of her mouth, his hand ran up and down her arm, before settling on her silk-covered thigh.
Dominique felt as if she were drowning and didn’t want to be saved. Her arm wrapped around Jake’s neck, slid across the broad expanse of his back and back to cup his face. The gentle act intensified Jake’s flame of desire. He moaned and leaned back, pulling Dominique into his arms. With her lying across him, he was able to grab hold of her plump, meaty booty. He ran a hand up her back, and a shiver shortly followed as Dominique felt herself becoming wet and Jake becoming hard. Then she remembered. Justin was upstairs and she was downstairs with a man in the house—something she swore would never happen again.
“Wait, stop,” she said breathlessly, struggling to release herself from Jake’s embrace and put distance between them. Her body immediately felt his absence and there was no doubt in Dominique’s mind that in his arms was where she wanted to be. But this wasn’t about her. This was about Justin. Jake had to go.
“I’m sorry, Jake, but this isn’t happening. My son is upstairs and I’m down here doing something I swore would not happen until he left home—entertaining a man.”
“I’m not just some man, Dominique. I’m your son’s coach and tutor. And quite frankly, though we’ve only known each other a short time, I thought I was a little more than just a man to you. I thought I was your friend.”
“That’s just it, Jake. That you are involved with my son on a professional level is why our relationship needs to stay professional... and platonic.”
“That’s bullshit.”
“Think what you will, but it’s what I’ve decided.”
The air crackled and in the silence, muted sounds from the upstairs TV were heard. Thoughts of Justin entered both of their minds—in different ways, for different reasons.
Dominique was remembering what Justin said once Kevin, her former partner, had left their lives. “It’s okay, Mommy. It’s just you and me.”
Jake was remembering what Justin had shared with him on their drive over. “Coach Mac, you’re awesome. I wish you were my dad.”
20
Dominique checked to make sure she had everything before leaving her master suite. It was going to be a long day. On top of the time she and Reggie would spend at the office, she had the undesired task of having dinner with a couple of the board members who’d come from overseas for a meeting the following week. She was especially not looking forward to after the meeting, when she’d be home alone, but was determined not to think about that until later. She’d get to work, drown herself in all things Capricious, and pull Reggie into the office to keep her laughing. After another melancholy, near-sleepless night, she needed his humor as much as his daily delivery of their favorite lattes.
As she walked down the stairs, Dominique heard Tessa in the kitchen with Justin beside her, chattering away. At the last step she stopped and listened.
“Coach Mac has a real theater and after we made pizza we went into the room and watched video of our game.”
Dominique could hear Tessa placing dishes into the washer. “Sounds like fun.”
“It was! Coach Mac is so smart. I told you about the touchdown, right?”
Tessa laughed. “A few times, Justin.”
“Well... that was Coach Mac’s idea. He knew they wouldn’t be paying attention to me because I’m big. They wouldn’t expect me to be able to catch or run fast. Coach says it was the same for him when he was my age. And he went to the NFL! I’m going to play pro ball too, just like him.”
“What’s his name?”
“Jake McDonald. But we ha
ve to call him Coach or Coach Mac.”
“Who’d he play for?”
“The Raiders. He was their star defensive end for almost nine seasons. He used to crush ’em...”
Justin kept talking away but Dominique no longer heard him. The Hurricanes had won their fourth game and, once again, Justin had been one of the shining stars. She leaned back against the wall, trying to process how deep her son’s feelings were where his coach was concerned and statements he’d made about him. Mom, we’ve got a new coach! He played for the Raiders... my favorite team! You and Coach Mac were looking at each other funny. I think you like him. And especially what he said just now. I’m going to play pro ball too, just like him. Those last three words echoed in her ear as Dominique crossed the foyer and entered the kitchen. Just like him.
“Hey, Justin!” Dominique walked over to the island, placed down her briefcase, and enveloped Justin in a big hug. “How’s my baby?”
“Mom, come on. I’m too big for you to call me that. Coach Mac—”
Dominique put up her hand, demanding silence. She took her son’s chubby cheeks in her hands, noting that he was becoming a man before her very eyes. “I know you value his opinion, but when it comes to this mother’s love for her child, I don’t care what Coach says. You’ll always be my, baby. Got it?”
Justin delivered that lopsided grin that Dominique just loved. “Yes, ma’am.”
Dominique picked up her briefcase and purse. “Tessa, Faith should be here around five.”
“No worries, Dominique. I hope your mother feels better soon.”
“Looks like a twenty-four-hour bug and, as usual, she really wanted to see her grandbabies. But we couldn’t take any chances on their getting sick.” Dominique felt her mother being under the weather was a blessing in disguise. Faith hadn’t gotten out much since the miscarriage. A drive to the Valley would do her good, maybe help get her back into the swing of life. Dominique made a mental note to ask Faith to join Aaron and Michael if they came over next week to watch Justin play.