Finally, You and Me

by Lisa Jackson

  “Hey, baby!” Mother Bradshaw greeted. She leaned over and gave Alexa a hug.

  “Hi, Mother Bradshaw.”

  After releasing Alexa, Mother Bradshaw surprised them both by giving Darius a hug. “Hello, son. Did you enjoy service?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Darius replied. “It was very moving. I agree with Pastor about us needing to rebuild a deeper relationship with God. We need to free ourselves from earthly bondage and allow the workings of the Holy Spirit to manifest itself in our lives.”

  A series of “wells” and “amens” radiated through the circle. Alexa felt proud at how Darius was trying to gain their acceptance. She stood to the side watching the Mothers continue their interrogations. After a few minutes, they finally said their goodbyes.

  “You must come back and visit,” the quieter Mother McElroy called as they departed.

  Darius promised to do so when he was back in town.

  Hand-in-hand, as they exited the church, Darius released the laughter that had been swelling in him. “I told you, women love me!”

  Alexa pressed her lips against his cheek and murmured. “More than you’ll ever know.”

  Chapter 11

  A wave of exhaustion came upon Darius causing him to yawn and stretch his six-foot-three-inch frame in response. His muscles flexed before slowly returning to a relaxed state. He had almost fallen asleep at his computer again, thanks to Alexa. The two had been on the telephone until two o’clock in the morning. Since his visit to Denver, their telephone conversations commonly lasted two to three hours every other day.

  Despite the fact that they talked so regularly, there always seemed to be something fresh to discuss. And when they weren’t talking, they listened to each other breathe. On more than one occasion, one of them had fallen to sleep. Rather than hang up, the other endured the wait until the guilty party woke up.

  Although it was taking its toll on his body, Darius wouldn’t change things as he was enjoying every moment. If he couldn’t have her in his bed next to him, then he could at least have her every other night via the telephone.

  Their conversations usually started out discussing their day and almost always, they reminisced about their past.

  A yawn broke through again and he stood up to get another cup of coffee when the telephone rang. He snatched it up on the first ring.

  “Programming, this is Darius.”

  “What’s up, man?” It was his good friend Reggie Thornton.

  “Reg, what’s up?”

  “Got a minute?”

  Darius glanced at his coffee cup, and decided that he could wait on his caffeine. “Sure.”

  “I was calling to let you know that I got the tickets for the Ball, which is a fund-raiser for the school. I was wondering when I can get them to you.”

  “I can run by your office at lunchtime today,” he said with a yawn.

  “Damn man, what you been doing, putting in time?” Reggie exclaimed at Darius’s sign of exhaustion.

  Darius laughed. “If I am, do you think I’d tell you?” he quipped.

  “Yeah, as if I couldn’t find out,” Reggie scoffed. “You know Tricia would love to give me the details.”

  “Please, this isn’t about Tricia,” Darius gruffly replied.

  In his book, Tricia Herndon was definitely a closed chapter. She worked at Frederick Douglas as a French instructor. The first time they met, she asked him, “Parlez-vous français?” Darius was impressed. Not only was she gifted in a foreign language, she led an interesting life abroad, which always intrigued him. However, just like all of the others, a month into dating, the interest waned and he broke things off.

  Yet, unlike the others, Tricia wasn’t about to give up so easily. She frequently sent messages to Darius through Reg. He was thankful that he had his number changed when he moved into his new house because now she couldn’t call as often as she had before.

  “Then who?” Reg asked.

  Darius leaned back in his chair and spun around to face the window. “This lady from my past.”

  “Who? That one babe named Alexa?”

  “Damn, man,” Darius exclaimed with surprise. “How did you remember her name?”

  “Please, bruh, you used to talk about her constantly!”

  He laughed at Reggie’s response. The comment was well deserved because he did talk about Alexa a lot back then.

  “So you are talking to her again?”

  Darius’s silence answered the question.

  “Damn, man, what’s up with that?” Reggie scolded. “You aren’t settling yourself up for more rejection?”

  “Rejection?” Darius exclaimed. “Man, what are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about her dumping you. What makes you think she won’t do it again?”

  “Well, we resolved that.”

  “Have you?” Reg returned.

  Darius’s irritation increased. He wasn’t about to allow Reggie to talk about Alexa when he didn’t even know her.

  “Reg, chill out!” he warned. “Alexa and I have worked out our problems. I don’t need my friend nagging me about my girl like my mama. In fact, Alexa is coming up for the Ball and I hope you have the decency to pull out that home training.”

  This time, Reggie was silent before answering. “Whatever you say, bro.”

  Darius smiled. Now all he had to do was ask the same of his family. He wanted to introduce Alexa to the Riversides, but he knew it would be hard for them to put the past where it belonged. His mother was upset, as were his sisters especially Deidra, his younger sister by nine months.

  Not only were the two close in age, but they were also best friends. When they were children, people often mistook them for twins. When she heard what happened between him and Alexa, she hurt for her big brother. Deidra immediately let Darius know that she would go as far as track Alexa down so that she could tell her off in person. Or she could call up some army friends stationed in Colorado Springs who would be more than willing to ride up to Denver posse-style and scare the crap out of her. But, Darius persuaded her to stay out of it and she backed down reluctantly.

  “I’ll swing by your office during lunch.”

  “If I’m not around, I’ll leave them with Mrs. Taylor,” Reg replied, referring to his secretary.

  Seconds after Darius hung up, the telephone rang again. Thinking it was Reggie calling again with last-minute instructions, he picked it up on the second ring.

  “What’s up, D?” It was Bryant.

  “B, what’s up, bro?”

  “Nothing, man, I just met with my attorney. We need to get together to go over this paperwork if we want this thing to fly.”

  Darius flipped through his desktop calendar. “How soon are you talking?”

  “Week tops.”

  Darius groaned inwardly. Going to Denver had left a lot of work on his desk. Between his job and his home business clients, he had some serious catching up to do. “I guess I can fly up this weekend.”

  “Cool. So how’s it going?” Bryant asked.

  “Booming. I picked up two clients today. One of them wants a new setup for the entire office. It will probably involved updating some of the old equipment and—”

  “That’s not what I mean, man,” Bryant cut in.

  “Then, what are you talking about?”

  “Alexa.”

  Darius paused at the sound of her name. “What about Alexa?”

  “Come on, man. I know something was up between the two of you when you were here. Any fool could see that. You don’t have to play games with me. Did you two work things out or something?”

  “Is it that obvious?”

  “Even Ray Charles could see it,” Bryant replied with a laugh.

  Darius filled Bryant in on the details concerning Alexa with the exception of his marriage proposal. Normally Darius would not withhold important information from his friend, but this time he felt compelled to do so.

  “So you two are going to try the commuting thing?” />
  “For now.”

  “Does that mean you have a plan?”

  “I haven’t made any yet, but I’m working on it.”

  “No kidding?” Bryant exclaimed. “I guess we better consider an office in Denver, huh?”

  “Hey, a man’s got to do what a man’s got to do.” Darius found himself smiling. “You know she is my heart. Always has been.”

  “Well, if I didn’t know Al, I would question it all, but I know she is a good woman.”

  Darius glanced at the playful pictures that he and Alexa had taken at a one-hour photo studio in the Lo Do area. In one, the two of them were posing gangster style with their hats angled over one eye. Another showed Darius crossing his eyes and Alexa making fish lips. In the third one, they were engaged in a deep kiss and the last one showed them staring straight into the camera with serious expressions. He made a point to hang them right where he could see them every day on the side of his computer. When work became stressful, the pictures would remind him of their time together and the stresses of the day would roll away.

  “Yeah, she is something else, isn’t she?” he fondly replied, picturing her ginger-kissed face smiling before his eyes.

  “I’m not trying to get into your business, because I know everybody else will, but as your friend, I am obligated to do so. I know that you love her and she loves you, but do yourselves a favor and take your time. You and Alexa have been apart for a long time. You’re not young college students anymore. Both of you have nine years’ worth of experiences under your belts. Take your time and you’ll be all right.”

  “Like you and Maya?” Darius asked with a hint of humor. “Cuz you know we want to be like y’all!”

  “No, brother, you can’t be like us,” Bryant laughingly replied.

  Darius felt his spirits lift after Bryant’s call and abandoned the coffee idea altogether.

  By lunchtime, Darius was starving. As he maneuvered his Blazer through the downtown lunch-hour traffic towards the inner-city school where Reggie worked, he decided to take an extra half hour to grab a bite to eat. After all, he could only work so much without eating.

  By taking the expressway, the school was only a fifteen-minute drive. As he turned onto the ramp, he turned on the radio. The bass thumped through the Bose speakers and he bobbed his head to the hip-hop beat of Biggie Smalls. Each time he heard a song by the slain, innovative artist, Notorious BIG, or the equally talented Tupac Shakur, his heart pained with sadness. Growing up during the rise of rap, Darius held a special affection for the two. As far as he was concerned, both artists had unique styles that raised the level of the game. It was sad that both had been gunned down in the prime of their music careers.

  He smiled when he recalled Reg giving him a paper written by one of his students to read. The topic was on the influence of rap in the lives of youth. The boy concluded in his essay that he believed that both Biggie and Tupac were probably “kickin’ it in God’s country” collaborating on a new album. Somehow, this image made him feel a little better about losing them.

  Soon the school came into view. St. Johns AME church had purchased the brick structure where the school was housed several years back. According to Reg, the building was a former YMCA, but as the city grew, the organization outgrew the facility and moved to a more metropolitan location. Frederick Douglas Academy was a dream that became a reality for the church in 1997. Geared towards young, gifted and black boys, the school’s aim was to raise up respectable black men who were productive in their personal lives, competitive in the job market and responsible citizens in their community. The school had a math, science and foreign language enrichment program, which was enhanced by computer and science labs.

  Darius parked his truck out front and jogged up to the doorway. Seated right inside the glassed reception area was Tamala Harper, the front office coordinator. Standing beside her was Chester White, the security guard.

  “Good morning, Mr. Riverside,” the two said in unison.

  “Good morning, Ms. Harper, Mr. White. I’m here to see Mr. Thornton.”

  “Go right ahead,” she said, pressing the button to release the security door that led to the remainder of the building. Security was one of the top concerns for faculty and board members alike. They wanted to provide an interactive, intense learning environment guarded from the issues pertaining to the streets.

  The halls of the school were brightly painted in a warm apricot. As Darius made his way down the hall, he passed several large framed portraits of famous black men such as W.E.B. Dubois, Thurgood Marshall, Martin Luther King Jr., Paul Laurence Dunbar and Charles Drew, followed by a larger one of Frederick Douglas at the end of the hall. Each portrait came complete with a caption detailing their community contributions.

  Reg was pacing in his office and shuffling through papers while talking on the speakerphone when Darius entered. He motioned Darius to have a seat before picking up the receiver.

  “As I was saying, Albright, I will have to show you these figures. We need some type of compensation, but I have someone waiting for me and I’ll have to go over that with you at a later time.”

  Not only was Reggie a class act professionally, but he had a penchant for fine things. This was apparent to visitors upon approaching his office. The decor consisted of an executive line mahogany desk with a rich, lustrous finish, grouped with a matching credenza and curio cabinet. Black leather Windsor chairs completed the ensemble.

  His choice of decoration was minimal, yet tasteful. An oil painting by a local black artist adorned the wall behind his chair along with his highly appraised credentials: Bachelor’s from Howard University in Education, Master’s in Business Administration and a Ph.D. in Counseling from Ohio State. The curio contained his most prized possessions: a letter from the president of the United States congratulating him on being recognized as teacher of the year alongside the actual certificate. On the next shelf was an autographed baseball from Reggie Jackson on a stand, next to it, his fraternity paddle and a picture with a newspaper article detailing the grand opening of Frederick Douglas Academy.

  Darius watched as his well-tailored friend straightened the cuffs on his monogrammed shirt. He pretended to pick at some lint then straightened the cuff links. Reggie was such an impeccable person. He was perfect for the principal job at the Academy as he was the perfect example of how a successful man should act and look.

  After hanging up, Reg walked over and shook his hand. “What’s up, D?”

  “Looks like you have the best going,” Darius replied, his eyes scanning the elaborate office and back to the tailored suit Reggie sported.

  Reggie waved him off, the gold bracelet dangling from his wrist. He handed Darius the tickets. “All I can say is sell, sell, sell, because those people think we got money to burn,” he replied, referring to the board.

  “Wait a minute, I’m one of those people,” Darius defended himself. “What’s going on?”

  “You know how Albright is,” Reggie groaned. “He thinks you can still educate a student on a buck ninety-five like they did back in his day. I keep telling him that this is a private magnet school and that 85 percent of our students are middle to low income. In order to crank out students with competitive test scores, we need to have access to the same tools as their white counterparts.”

  “Don’t worry about him,” Darius replied, speaking of the board’s president. “I know how to work Albright.”

  “I hope so. The students have the CAT test coming up in three months and I want a special study session in place to prepare them.”

  “I got your back,” Darius assured him. “Now what are your plans for lunch?”

  Reggie glanced at his watch. “Nothing. I had an appointment with a food distributor who was supposed to call me by 11:00 and it’s already 11:30. Why? You want to get something to eat?”

  “Yeah, I’m as hungry as a two-headed bear.”

  Reggie slipped into his Armani suit jacket. “You driving?”

&nbs
p; “Sure,” Darius replied. “As long as you’re paying.”

  Reggie laughed. “I got your back.”

  Chapter 12

  Anybody who knew Beverly Kirkwood knew that she did not appreciate long waits. Alexa spotted her mother immediately as she pulled up outside the airport. Beverly stood out like a sore thumb, with a bright purple silk anorak which contrasted with her freshly tinted, fiery auburn hair. Despite the chill in the air, she was standing outside smoking a cigarette. The irritated expression clouding her face told Alexa that she was in for a good chewing-out.

  “Damn,” Alexa groaned as she shifted the car into Park. She was not in the mood.

  Hoping to head off an argument, she fixed a smile on her face before exiting the car.

  “Hi, Mama,” she greeted as she hurried over to place a kiss on her mother’s cheek.

  “Don’t hi Mama me!” Beverly shouted. “Seems to me I told you my plane arrived at two-thirty, not three.”

  “It’s not even three o’clock, Mama,” Alexa replied with a glance at her watch. She pressed a button on the remote and popped the trunk and picked up the two pieces of Louis Vuitton luggage.

  “Don’t get smart, Alexa Denise. I raised you better than that!” Beverly berated.

  Alexa rolled her eyes behind the raised trunk. “Ma, please get in the car?”

  Beverly grumbled to herself as she made herself comfortable in the plush seat.

  Alexa continued to piddle around as if looking for something to allow herself the chance to cool off. She was determined to have a good visit with her mother. The last time Beverly had visited was right after Sean called off the wedding. Rather than be the consoling shoulder to lean on, she was preachy and critical. Her whole stay did nothing but upset Alexa further. She was relieved when her mother finally left.

  After a few minutes, she joined her in the car. “So, how was your flight?”

  “It was okay,” Beverly replied. “I met a really nice man.”

  “Mama,” Alexa groaned. “What did I tell you about talking to strangers, especially strange men? Besides aren’t you supposed to be meeting your boyfriend in Vegas?”