Don’t Ever Wonder

by Darren Coleman

  “Thank you, man. Thank you for the opportunity.”

  “Rematch?” the Horse asked with a smile on his face.

  “We’ll talk, baby,” Nate said and winked.

  A few moments later and Larry came over with the microphone. After Larry’s opening statements and questions, Nate started, “Larry, I know we all say this, but honest out there people, listen up. To God Be the Glory. Anything else I can say is pointless. I didn’t do a damned thing in this ring but show up. God kept me alive.”

  “He sure did, Nate,” Larry said and went on, “So what will you do now? Is there anyone you’d like to fight or are you willing to give him a rematch?”

  “At this point, I honestly don’t know yet. I have to go and talk it over with my fiancée. We’re getting married as soon as this swelling goes down.” Nate laughed.

  “Congratulations. So with all the speculation about health concerns, were you at all scared for your health?”

  “Never,” he lied.

  “Did you ever imagine that you would be here back on top of the sports world and did that fuel your return?”

  “I wondered almost every day for the past six or seven years what this would be like. But I listened to everyone else’s reasons why I had to give it up. But I got one word of advice for everyone out there. Dreams don’t come easy, ya’ know. Life is short, you have to live your dreams. If you sit around wondering when the time will come that life will make it easy for you to live them, you may wait a lifetime. Don’t ever wonder, baby. Don’t ever wonder.”

  The End…almost

  31

  Don’t Wanna Be a Player No More

  ONE YEAR LATER

  We were sitting courtside at the Miami Heat play-off game. Shaq had made ten of eleven free throws, the Heat were winning, and the crowd was going crazy. Life was good. Nate had sprung for the tickets since we were guests in his town. Brendan, Dee, and I had all flown in with our ladies for the weekend for a special occasion.

  Nate was hosting a baby shower for Anita. Of course, he had gotten a lot of help with the whole thing from Tuesday. During the past year, she and Anita had become the best of friends. Even with the distance, they talked on their cell phones every day, all day. When Nate gave Tuesday the green light to plan a baby shower to end them all, she’d jumped at the chance and had spent two weeks in Miami putting it all together.

  Nate had purchased a home on Miami’s exclusive Star Island. The nine-million-dollar price tag was cheap compared to what some of his neighbors had spent. His crib was a five-thousand-square-foot, five-bedroom, MTV crib-worthy dig. The house had a dock in the back with a boat and four Jet Skis hooked up to it. It was equipped with a pool and Jacuzzi.

  Nothing was too good for his family, now that he had truly decided to give it his all. As promised, he’d married Anita on New Year’s Day in St. Margaret’s on the beach, no tux or gown, they both wore white linen and were barefoot. By that time the baby was already on the way and due to arrive in July. Nate’s grandmother was moving down to become the nanny. They were expecting a girl. Nate was doing well in his efforts to be a do-right man. He truly appeared to be a changed man, a reformed player.

  After the game we hit the club without the ladies. Each of us admitted that it had been a while since we had been out individually or as a group. I had been spending all my free time with Faith. She had moved down to D.C. from Chicago and we were giving our relationship a real try. Faith, believe it or not, was a psychiatrist. She hooked up with one of her professors from Brown University who had a practice on Connecticut Avenue. The greatest thing about her, other than her sex, which was incredible, was that she was the fairest woman I had ever known. She realized that no one was perfect, including herself. She would say that if people wanted patience, acceptance, and forgiveness, then they had to be willing to offer it. On top of that she made a nice piece of change.

  We cruised down Washington Avenue toward the club Bed. We jumped out of the limo and walked straight past security. Nate was greeted with, “Hey, Champ,” and “Good luck on the fight,” by the people waiting in line.

  Nate had given the Horse a rematch four months after the first fight. This time the doctors had stopped the fight after six rounds. Nate had opened a cut over Scott’s eye in the second round that was pouring blood, impairing his vision. After Nate had hit him with ten straight hooks to the head, it became too dangerous to let the fight go on.

  Afterward Nate signed a three-fight, thirty-million-dollar deal with HBO. His camp handpicked the opponents. He was definitely going to retire after the fights. “No need pressing my luck, nothing left to prove, and plus I’m rich, beyaatch,” he had said.

  The bottles came and so did the ladies. They came two, three, and four at a time. Each time Nate said, “Sorry, ladies, we’re having private celebration over here. Just the fellas. But please allow me to buy you a drink.” He signaled to the waitress to take care of anyone he turned away.

  “We’ve got a lot to celebrate,” Nate said and raised his glass. We all raised ours to meet his. “Here’s to my baby girl,” he said, all teeth.

  “To my godchild,” I said.

  “Our godchild,” Brendan said.

  “Here’s to you kicking much ass and living phat, my nigga,” Dee yelled. He was already tipsy when he climbed out of the limo.

  “Here’s to my new lady, my future,” I said with a smile. Then I reached into my blazer pocket and pulled out the blue Tiffany box. “I am going to propose to her on Sunday.”

  “Oh shit,” Dee yelled out. I pulled the ring from the box. It was four carats set in white gold. “Do the damn thing.”

  “That’s all right,” Brendan said.

  Nate just smiled. He already knew. As a matter of fact he had helped me set up the proposal. Game four of the Heat play-off game was Sunday afternoon and right before the end of the first half, Faith would look up and see the proposal on the Jumbotron, then she would look over and see me on one knee.

  “Listen up,” Brendan said. “I want to make a toast to you three. You are three of the best friends that anyone could hope for. I just want to toast you three—”

  Nate tried to cut him off. “C’mon, man, it ain’t about that, we’re family—”

  “Nah, forget that,” Brendan said. “Let me finish.”

  “Go ahead,” Nate said.

  “I want to say thanks to each of you. You each did some tremendous things to show your support for me in the last year. Nate, I never apologized for leaving Vegas before your big fight and for missing the rematch, but what can I say?”

  He leaned in and they shook hands. He went on, “But I want to say that I couldn’t have made it through all of the shit I went through with Trina without your support. I love you all like brothers.”

  Brendan had caught the first flight out of Vegas when Trina called his phone and told him the news. Khalil was not his son. By the time Nate entered the ring to fight the Horse that night at the MGM, Brendan was in custody. He had dished out more punishment than Nate and the Horse combined. He had been locked up for assault and battery. After drinking himself into a stupor, he had surprised Trina by popping up at her house and finally kicking her ass for all of the hurt and embarrassment she’d caused him.

  At one point he thought about putting a pillow over her head. Khalil’s screams had gone unheard until that point. Moments before it would have been too late, Brendan looked into Khalil’s face and saw an innocent child who didn’t ask for the hand he was about to be dealt.

  In that moment he knew he could not make the child an orphan, no matter how far Trina had pushed him. He climbed off of her and called the ambulance and the police. He turned himself in right then and there.

  Nate, for his part, had gotten him the best legal defense team money could buy. Dee had convinced Trina not to press charges or show up in court. The state picked up the charges and did their best to stick it to Brendan. In the end, Nate’s money talked and Brendan served only thirty days of a ni
nety-day sentence and left with no criminal record. He was ordered to go to counseling. He was Faith’s first client.

  The year had brought much change. We had all grown as men. Most of the foolish things we had done, and enjoyed doing in our twenties, were all habits of the past. At least most of them.

  Brendan was finished with his toast and we all took one last swig. “Oh, one more thing.”

  “What now?” we all said together.

  “We were going to wait until the baby shower to tell you all this,” he said, unable to keep the grin off of his face. “We just found out last week that we’re pregnant.”

  I was the first to show enthusiasm. “That’s great, man. You ready for that?”

  “For sure. I mean, I ain’t getting any younger.”

  Nate had nothing but a scowl on his face. He didn’t approve.

  Dee laughed and said, “Man, you’re a nut.”

  Just then Nate’s cell rang. “Yeah,” he said, followed by an okay. Then he spoke some more. “We’re at Bed. We’re leaving shortly. Okay. Okay. I love you too. I will.” He hung the phone up and said, “Brendan, your wife said she’s been trying to dial your cell but you haven’t picked up.”

  Brendan looked down at his phone and sure enough he saw six missed calls. He hit the dial button and called her back.

  Trina answered on the first ring.

  Don’t Ever Wonder

  Reading Group Guide

  We hope that you enjoyed Darren Coleman’s Don’t Ever Wonder. The following questions are intended to facilitate your group’s discussion of this engaging and provocative book.

  Questions for Discussion

  1. As the title suggests, many of the characters in Don’t Ever Wonder are consumed with questions about the alternate paths their lives could have taken had they made different decisions. What are the decisions for Nate, Brendan, and Cory that could have made a difference? Have they satisfied their curiosity by the end of the book, or are there still questions left unanswered?

  2. Why in the world would Brendan make the decision to take Trina back? Will he be able to raise the child as his own? Is there any circumstance when cheating is forgivable, and, if so, how many times before enough is enough?

  3. While proclaiming to be a Christian, Nate allows either his temper or his pride to take control of him, and he beats a man, cheats on Anita, and breaks his reverend’s finger. Was he justified in any of these actions? How genuine is his newfound spirituality? Will it last?

  4. Throughout the novel, Cory and Brendan play women left and right, and it’s all good. But when Cory sleeps with Renée, Brendan can’t take it and ends the friendship. Was this a genuine betrayal on Cory’s part, or is Brendan overreacting? Is it ever okay to sleep with your best friend’s exes?

  5. Why is it so important to Nate that he regain his belt? What does he risk to attain this goal? How would Nate have reacted if he had lost the championship fight? Is it ever worth risking it all to achieve what one believes to be his or her purpose?

  6. Cory breaks his promises and abruptly walks out on Shelly, leaving her a single mother. He is upset with himself for these selfish actions, but he is able to move on. But when he betrays Brendan, it causes major turmoil in his life, and he is barely able to function from the guilt he carries. Does he have his emotional priorities straight? Is he wrong for having more loyalty to his best friend than to his baby’s mother? At what point do lovers become more important than best friends?

  7. Renée leaves her fiancé when she finds out he has been sleeping with men on the down low. How much of a problem are black men on the down low and how much of an impact do they have on African American women?

  Acknowledgments

  First off I have to give thanks to the Almighty. We all should, right? I’ve been through a lot since my career as a writer has taken off, some great and some not so great things. Through it all I’ve learned that you have to take the bitter with the sweet and most of all you have to stay in prayer. To whom much is given, much is expected, and to fully understand that is to have some degree of peace.

  The first person I want to thank is my mother, Doris Patrick. Oh, how we have had it out, but no matter what, I know you have my back and I have yours. Thanks for all you’ve done and continue to do for me. All the days you were tired or sick but still had the time to make sure Tanya and I were well fed, clothed, and educated and for keeping books in my hands. You didn’t care if it was a comic book or a Sports Illustrated, you just wanted me to read. It paid off.

  Family first, so I also want to thank my aunts, Nancy, Esther, Florence…all like mothers to me, guiding and encouraging me as well. To my uncles, thanks for being there and taking up the slack of a father who wasn’t, Ed, Pee Wee, and Ren, I love you and thanks. To my extended family, aunts, uncles, cousins, friends…thank you so much for all the love and well wishes.

  To be specific…this part is so scary because it’s too easy to forget a name even if you don’t forget a person.

  Michael Morrison, Dawn Davis, Rockelle Henderson, Gilda Squire, Laura Blost, Stacey Barney, Donovan Baddley, Mary Keane, and the rest of the Harper/Amistad family: thanks a million for the confidence and support. Jimmy Vines, you’re a great agent, much success to you. Nina Graybill, my lawyer…thanks for everything.

  Once again to the talented Anthony Carr, man, you never cease to amaze me with your art…thanks once again on a fabulous cover. Congrats to you and Renée on your beautiful baby girl. Les Green, thanks for the work on the website as always.

  Thanks also to Lynn Hobson, Tressa Smallwood, Tamika Diaz at Culture Plus; Rico Douglass, Trina Holt, and the entire Karibu Books Team and all of the other store owners and vendors out there doing it for me. To Tamara Cooke, my accountant. Thanks also to Sheryl Hicks, Yolanda Marie J., Lynn Thomas, Deena Myles, and S.O.A.R, Kimberly Jones from superstar. Lori Carter at 4 Star’s Hair Salon in Suitland, Maryland…check her out. Special thanks to Tracye Stafford and IKON Entertainment. Tray, I truly appreciate all you do that you don’t have to. We will slice through the fakes and get the movie done. You are a gem. To Lisa Richardson and Angela Oates…you two still have the Write Touch. Thanks also to Leslie German.

  My dawgs and homeys, thanks for all the support. It’s so good to get the love from your peers. In a world where a brother would sooner hate on you than give you your props, I keep running into positive brothers who lift me up and remind me what real men are supposed to do. First off, I want to thank my fellow mentors, Carl Green, Daren Browning, Daryle Brooks, Dennis, and all the brothers across the land who reach back to the youth by giving their time, energy, and money to help the lil’ dudes find their way before they get lost. Ron Brown, stay positive and thanks for having me come down to talk to the youths. I enjoyed that. To Mike Davis and all my crew from the Barbershop, Always. My barber Eric Carter…the party starter. Pierre Fletcher and Radical Art Clothing. Curtis Kittrell and Jessica Smith at Emagine Studios in Forestville. Dr. David Harmon, the best orthodontist in Maryland. To the people I run into: Dondre Owens, who always has a good word for me about my work, thank you.

  Hey Shaka…never forget it’s a celebration, nigga. Miami, New Orleans, L.A., Rio de Janeiro, like the ol’ boy Rick James would say, We just getting starting bitches…we’re just unwinding.

  DeWright Johnson…hold on up top, K’wan, I’m waiting for you. Tyrone Wallace, Wahida Clark, Crystal Winslow, William Fredrick Cooper, it’s a pleasure knowing you all. Most of all to my man Zach Tate, Eyone Williams, Danette Majette, and the Nvision Publishing family, thanks so much for stepping up the game. To the very special Joy King.

  Shout to my brother Jim and the entire Chaney family. Kenny Lattimore and the lovely Chanté Moore. My homey, Ted in Brooklyn at Assorted Flavors Entertainment. Nancy Flowers, you are the bomb, sistah. To my Vickie Stringer…I’ll always be your baby’s daddy. Shannon Holmes…I’ll roll with you always. Don’t trip off the snakes and snitches, their time is short like leprechauns.

  Th
anks to Community Books in New Orleans. To Victoria Christopher Murray, you are the realest and most genuine author out there. Much success to you. Patty Rice, as always, I’ll never forget. Natti at Afrikan World…much respect. Karen at A&B, you are my doll baby. Thanks to Eric and Gail for the support. Kevon Thomas, stay real, the future for you is bright. Thanks to everyone at Culture Plus for the support. To my man Massamba Amar, the king of Jamaica Ave…. much success, in cha Allah.

  Enid, in Charlotte…you’ve been so helpful. I hope to return the favor one day. Twala McCain, thanks for the support, stay up. Theresa in Ft. Lauderdale, Shalisa in Dayton, Tenia in the ATL, Tecia from NY, Demi from all over, Bella in L.A., it’s all love. To Lea Williams, the most beautiful future attorney in Carolina…Georgetown. IJR, I wished the best for you but sometimes we can’t see the forest for the trees, though time will fix that. Keep your eyes and your mind open. Iyauta Moore, I can’t wait to read your acknowledgments, you got mad talent. Damien Lyles, Crocodile Tears, finally finished. Big cuz is going to walk you through to the promised land.

  Thanks so much to Justine Love and Todd B on Lovetalk and Slowjams at WPGC. Thanks also to the WHUR morning crew. My peeps at WKYS…thanks for the shouts. And to Natalie Case at Magic 102.3. Thanks in advance to all the air across the land for having me. Michael Baisden for the shout and for blazing the path. V103 in Chicago and 92Q in Baltimore.

  To Al in Dallas, if that’s even your name. You know who I’m talking about. Man, you are sick and the biggest clown I have ever met. But, God bless you anyway.

  I never said thanks to Dr. Sydney Walker, my English professor at Bowie State University, for telling me that I was indeed, a writer. At that time I didn’t even have my own computer, but I just want you to know that sometimes we plant seeds and have no clue what will come forth from that effort. Keep blessing your students.