Brickhouse

by Rita Ewing

  Casey stood up to get another bottle of wine, and as she walked toward the kitchen amid their constant chatter, she was thankful for her friends.

  “Dawn, I never thought I would say this, but you’re young, girl, enjoy yourself while you can.” From within the kitchen, Casey was surprised at what Trina was saying. Her friend had changed so much since last season. As far as she was concerned, what she was hearing from her girlfriends today was all good.

  “Don’t give up your independence until you are good and ready,” Trina continued.

  “Not that I would do anything differently where my children are concerned.” Trina shook her head back and forth and wagged one pointed finger in the air as she spoke.

  “But maybe with Rick, I wouldn’t have given every ounce of myself on a silver tray.” Trina paused, looking straight at Dawn.

  “I was lucky in a lot of ways to get the second chance that I got, but maybe it was a fluke that I was able to do what I’ve done,” Trina continued.

  Casey returned to the room, catching the tail end of Trina’s comment. “Trina, it was no fluke. You have talent, and it paid off, big time. Don’t be ashamed of it, Ms. Businesswoman,” Casey said, referring to the recent lucrative multiyear contract Trina had entered into with Sutton Bakeries to supply various recipes for cakes, pies, and cookies.

  “That’s right, Trina, don’t make excuses for your success.” Remy was intent and crossed her slender legs as she spoke.

  “You earned it, fair and square. I used to do that to myself constantly, and it was counterproductive. Save your energy for your family and some new cake recipes for me,” Remy told her.

  “Speaking of sweets,” Remy continued, “did you bring my sweet potato pie? I want to make a good impression on this guy I’ve been dating for a few months. I want him to think I can at least bake desserts.”

  “Girl, I’m so sorry.” Trina looked at Remy sheepishly. “I walked right out of the house and left it on the kitchen counter. I’ll call Rick and tell him to bring it,” Trina said.

  “Don’t have him come all the way from Connecticut just to bring me some pie,” Remy said.

  “Oh, it’s no problem, he has to pick me up when I’m ready to leave anyway. I’ll just have him bring it then,” Trina said.

  “That’s so considerate of him to pick you up,” Lorraine said.

  “That is nice,” Dawn playfully chimed in. “Michael would probably just send a car service to fetch me.”

  Trina splayed her hands out in front of her.

  “You all would not believe Rick, he’s like my shadow these days. He hasn’t been like this since we were in college. You know, it seems like the instant I stopped pressing him about coming back home, he couldn’t stay away.” Trina sounded surprised at her own words.

  “Now you would think he’s Mr. Mom, especially with little William, and he sticks to me like white on rice. Of course, making some money of my own didn’t hurt. But I can’t complain ‘cause he’s still my baby and we’re a family.” Trina was grinning from ear to ear.

  “So, Remy, fill us in on this guy you’re trying to impress,” Dawn pressed, smiling mischievously.

  “Is it serious?” Lorraine asked.

  Casey watched Remy look around the room uncertainly, and she knew that it was a big step for Remy to open herself to people, even this group of women whom she considered her friends. She always kept her guard up. But Casey also realized that Remy had begun to make a concerted effort to allow people into her life more.

  Remy swallowed before she elaborated on her new friend. “Well, his name is Phil and he’s always cooking exotic dishes for me, so I bragged to him about my nonexistent culinary skills, and he’s been patiently waiting to taste something ever since then.”

  Casey gave Remy an encouraging smile.

  “My mother won my father’s heart through his stomach,” Lorraine interjected. “And if Trina’s doing the baking for you, then his heart is as good as won. Ever since I took some cakes that Trina made to my church, none of my parishioners will eat the usual coffee hour desserts anymore. They’re waiting for the real deal,” Lorraine said.

  “Well, I’m not really aiming to capture his heart as of yet…” Remy hedged and shifted on her pillow.

  Casey gave Remy a knowing look. “Come on, out with it, girl.”

  “Okay, well, maybe I am trying to capture his heart,” Remy said slowly.

  “He’s an incredible man and I have so much respect for him. And, let’s see … it doesn’t hurt that he’s fine as I don’t know what and … that’s about it other than … he could be the one.” Remy clasped her hands in her lap. She had nothing more to say … as far as she was concerned, her new man was as good as it gets.

  “The one?” Casey repeated.

  “Funny, but for the first time in my life, the idea of settling down with someone is quite appealing.” Remy smiled as she blushed.

  All of the women started ooohing and aaahing at Remy.

  “It’s a wonderful thang,” Remy sang.

  “Well, as only you can say it, Remy, ‘Happiness is divine.’ It sounds like you got some of your own medicine,” Trina said.

  Casey noticed Lorraine looking at her watch and yawning.

  “Are we boring you or do you have someplace to go, Raino?” Casey asked, calling her by her childhood nickname. Casey knew that Lorraine had embraced her past and was moving forward with her life.

  “You all are not boring anybody, but I really do have to go,” Lorraine apologized. “I’m so sorry to have to break up our soiree but tomorrow is the groundbreaking ceremony for the community center that Paul and I are opening. Between planning that and my double shifts, I’m about to run out of gas.” Lorraine was visibly exhausted.

  “That’s tomorrow?” Casey asked. “I thought it was next Thursday. I would have planned this for another night.”

  “Casey, I wouldn’t have missed this for anything in the world,” Lorraine said, hugging her friend tightly with tears in her eyes.

  “I’m so happy for you girl.” Lorraine was sincere as she pulled back and looked into her friend’s eyes.

  “What type of a center is it, Lorraine?” Remy asked.

  “It’s going to be a place where our youth can go and participate in productive activities instead of only having the streets and gangs as extracurricular activities,” Lorraine explained.

  “This center will be an outlet for them and a haven from the streets. I’m praying to God that will help our children. It’s going to be called the Christine Jackson Community Center.”

  “Well, I wish you the best of luck,” Remy said. “Let me know if there’s anything I can ever do to help.”

  “Me too, Lorraine,” Dawn chimed in eagerly. “What a wonderful idea.”

  Casey jumped up, thinking of Alexis’s letter, and ran into her kitchen to retrieve it. As she returned to the living room, she stopped Lorraine from leaving. She knew she did not have to worry about the other three leaving. They were enjoying the wine and ambience far too much to budge.

  Casey was anxious to let her friends in on the latest twist with Alexis.

  “Wait one minute before you go, Lorraine.” Casey said. “Ladies, listen up. Dawn, would you turn down the music please? I want to read you all this letter Alexis sent me along with a housewarming gift.”

  “What is it?” Dawn teased. “A chastity belt for your use while you’re away from Brent?”

  “Be nice,” Casey said as she glanced at the ivory linen paper.

  “I think it may surprise everyone. She starts out with the usual Alexis kiss-kiss greeting but she continues by writing how she knows what a difficult step I made by leaving Brent but that she was proud of me for taking a stand in my life and doing what I wanted to do, for once,” Casey said, scanning the letter.

  “Is this the Alexis I know?” Remy asked incredulously.

  “Wait,” Casey said. “There’s more.”

  “She continues by saying that despite all th
at transpired last season between herself and us that we were the group of women she admired the most in all of her husband’s years of coaching.

  “And get this,” Casey continued. “She says that she especially appreciated us for our intelligence, inner beauty, honesty, and most importantly, our forthrightness in our decision making. She even ends it by saying perhaps there’s hope for her beyond her husband’s coaching career.”

  “You know,” Dawn said, “I’m about to surprise myself here, but let’s give a toast to Alexis.” Dawn raised her glass of wine high above her head.

  “To Alexis, I suppose,” Remy added. “She had to suck up a lot of pride to write that letter, and I respect her for doing it. I just hope she meant it.” Remy was the last to hoist her glass into the air.

  “I hope she meant it too.” Casey toasted, “Here’s to friendship. The kind that transcends time, place, or circumstances.”

  “Here. Here. Here. Here.” Everyone chimed in.

  About the Author

  RITA EWING

  RITA EWING, A.K.A. Rita Williams prior to her marriage to MBA All-Star Patrick Ewing, did not start out as a writer. After graduating from La Reine Senior High School in Suitland, Maryland, Rita accepted a four-year National Merit Scholarship to attend Howard University in Washington, D.C. Starting out with a major in chemical engineering, Rita quickly decided by the end of her freshman year that she had no burning desire to pursue a career in engineering and switched over to the College of Nursing, with the intent to prepare for a future in medicine.

  It was during her tenure at Howard that Rita met her future husband, Patrick Ewing, who at that time was a student at Georgetown University. While working as a summer mail clerk and receptionist for Senator Bill Bradley, Rita had to accept packages from the likes of Ewing, who worked as a summer intern for the Senate Finance Committee. What began as lunch breaks blossomed into seven years of dating until the pair decided to tie the knot.

  Upon completion of the four-year nursing program and with a bachelor of science degree in hand, Rita began a career in critical care nursing at Howard University Hospital. After two years of working on various medical, surgical, and cardiac intensive care unit wards, while at the same time trying to assist her fiancé with his newfound fame and responsibilities, Rita decided to put her nursing career on hold and go back to school. Georgetown University Law Center welcomed her into the JD/MBA program with open arms. But after one year, it was the law portion that Rita felt most suited her aspirations. In December 1992 Rita proudly tossed her tassel to the side and walked across the podium with a Juris Doctorum in law.

  Admitted to the Pennsylvania Bar Assocation in June 1993, Rita turned her entrepreneurial dreams into a reality. Through her first start-up venture, One on One Management, Inc., Rita was able to provide home office management techniques and consulting services to professional athletes. Working with the athletes, including her own husband at the time, Rita was privy to the nuances of the world of professional basketball and the relationships that play a major role both on and off the court. She decided to put pen to paper.

  Rita created the children’s book series Patrick’s Pals, which was based on Patrick Ewing, Alonzo Mourning, and Dikembe Mutombo’s real-life friendships portrayed by childhood friends growing up in the ‘hood. Her next penned venture and first published novel was Home-court Advantage, which Rita coauthored with Crystal McCrary Anthony, coauthor of Gotham Diaries. Rita and Crystal sold the film rights to Homecourt Advantage and still have hopes of bringing their story to the silver screen.

  Two years ago, Rita helped bring the nation’s largest African American-owned bookstore to Harlem, New York. She is coowner of the Hue-Man Bookstore and is proud to be able to bring renowned authors to the Harlem community. It was in Harlem where Rita conceived her most recent baby, Brickhouse. Brickhouse is Rita’s current novel and certainly won’t be the last. She wrote Brickhouse while living in New Jersey with her three daughters, Randi, Corey, and Kyla. Rita credits her ex-husband, Patrick, for her juicy NBA experiences; her parents for their unconditional love; and her friends for all of their support.

  Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins author.

  Six months later

  Nona held Kelly’s hand as they walked down the steps of Brickhouse. Derrick trotted in front of his Jaguar and opened the passenger door.

  “How’re my two favorite ladies?”

  “Fine,” they said together.

  As Nona slipped into the front seat, Derrick opened the back door for Kelly.

  “Seat belts on,” he said as he started the car and veered from the Brickhouse parking lot. He turned east, toward the Triborough Bridge. “How was church?” he asked.

  “Fine,” Kelly said. “I really like the new pastor. I can understand almost everything Pastor Jerome preaches about.”

  “That’s a good thing,” Derrick said. He glanced at Nona. “I’m sorry I missed services. When I got that emergency call last night, I insisted that the production manager meet with me this morning because I knew I wanted to be with you and Kelly this afternoon.”

  She smiled. “I understand. I’m just glad you’re with us now.”

  For thirty minutes, they chatted about church, school, Kelly’s appointments with Dr. Rutherford, and her upcoming part in a new play–Othello.

  “I think I’m going to like playing the part of Desdemona better than even Lady Macbeth,” Kelly said. “Although I don’t know how I always end up playing the wife.” She sighed.

  Nona and Derrick exchanged glances and smiled.

  Kelly continued, “But Desdemona is strong. And the notes said that she was very beautiful. I think I can play that part.” She laughed.

  Nona wanted to turn around and hug Kelly. Just another sign that her daughter was getting better.

  As the city sights metamorphosed into suburban serenity, their chatter lessened, until silence filled the car. Nona stared at the passing images of homes that were farther apart and trees that grew much larger and fuller than any in the city. Westchester County was so different from where she lived. Here there were few signs that they were still in New York. There were no people walking or car horns honking or fire engine sirens blaring. Here there was just quiet. Nona shuddered. It was too peaceful for her.

  “Look, there’s a flower stand.” Kelly pointed.

  Derrick slowed the Jaguar and stopped in front of the roadside stand. Nona stayed in the car while Kelly and Derrick got out. She watched as the two examined the rows of flowers, and Kelly finally chose a bouquet. Nona smiled. Derrick was so good with Kelly. And Kelly was so good with him. They made each other happy.

  Kelly handed the bouquet to Nona, and its fragrance flowed through the car. She closed her eyes and inhaled. Lilies were one of her favorite flowers, but their reason for purchasing them today filled her with sadness.

  An hour and fifteen minutes after they had left the city, Derrick turned the car around the curve into the King of Kings Cemetery. He followed the driveway, remembering the way from the funeral six months before.

  Nona put on her sunglasses when Derrick stopped the car. She stayed in place as he got out, then walked to the passenger side and opened the door for her. She took his hand and stepped outside. Then he did the same for Kelly.

  In silence, Nona led the trio past perfectly lined rows of gravesites until they came to the headstone they were seeking: ALLEN WADE 1970–2005. Most beloved friend and our angel forever.

  Nona stood for a moment, then swayed slightly, but Derrick was right behind her. He wrapped his arms around her, easing her back against him. As he held her, she felt the first tear seep from under her glasses.

  The cemetery administrator had called this week to tell her that Allen’s headstone was ready. She’d been pleased, but was not prepared for the impact of seeing her best friend’s name on the stone. At that moment, it all came rushing back. The pain of the doctor’s final words, “I’m sorry, Non
a.” How she had stayed in Allen’s hospital room and cried until she had no more tears. And then how she had gone home and held Kelly as she sobbed for hours until sleep finally rescued her from her grief.

  Nona had felt barely conscious as she made Allen’s final arrangements, and then maintained her zombie state through the services. She’d held her tear-filled daughter and just stared at the black and silver coffin, willing Allen to rise and convince them this was all a bad dream. She’d heard none of the minister’s words, nor understood any of the condolences as friends passed by shaking her hand and whispering their words of sorrow. She didn’t hear the wailing from Toni Lee or Leila’s eloquent reading of Allen’s eulogy–although Nona had noticed Anna as she walked past the open casket and paused, saying her own teary farewell to the man she had considered an enemy during the last years of his life.

  When it was Nona’s turn to say good-bye, she had stood looking down at Allen, grieving for the man who had protected her, saved her, loved her. But in the end, her love hadn’t been enough to save him.

  Now, as she stood at Allen’s grave site, it didn’t feel as if six months had passed. The pain was as fresh as the flowers she held in her hand.

  Kelly took the lilies from Nona and knelt beside the gravestone. “Hi, Allen,” she said as she positioned the flowers right under his name. She paused. “I miss you so much. I–” She stood up, sobbing, and leaned against Derrick.

  While he held Kelly, Nona knelt in front of Allen’s resting place. “We do miss you, Allen, but we’re doing well. Brickhouse is fine. Better than ever. Reverend Watkins didn’t try to put up a fight when Derrick went to him and demanded any copies of the disc back.” She paused and smiled at Derrick. “I have a feeling Derrick did a little more than just ask for the disc,” she continued. “But whatever he did or said, it worked. Brickhouse is still here. And it will be, for a long time.”