by Cydney Rax
“When my mother was alive,” Alita told him, “she and my dad had a pretty decent marriage. I mean, Daddy was always around. He never slept one night away from the house unless he had to take a road trip to visit our relatives in Mississippi.”
“That’s where you’re from?” Shade asked.
“My father’s side is from Jackson. I went there a long time ago when I was a kid. Hell, I barely remember anything about it. But I do remember every time we crossed that Horace Wilkinson bridge that goes over that big old river. There’d be all these cars, and trucks, and the traffic would slow down. And we’d be stuck on the bridge. And I was scared to death being stuck over all that water, but I tried to act brave.”
“Your daddy could see right through it, huh?”
For a minute Alita could not reply. The thoughts of her childhood brought warm memories, but deep in her psyche, she knew that everything wasn’t as rosy as she recalled.
“My daddy was my protector,” she finally answered. “He always calmed me down, saying, ‘We gon’ be all right, Lita. You can close your eyes but you don’t have to, ’cause we gon’ be all right.’ ”
Alita smiled at the memories of the first man who had ever made her feel safe. “But anyway, all throughout my life Daddy was around a lot, being the only man in the family with all us women.” She laughed. “He stuck around even throughout Mama’s sickness. But I could tell that seeing her body break down like that hurt him. Seeing him watching her health fail made me run to him and tell him that things were okay. But they weren’t.” Alita’s voice grew distant and hard. She knew all too much about how good things turned into bad. How good things appeared like they’d be good forever, but overnight they could change . . . and destroy an entire family.
“My daddy might’ve acted strong, but I can tell when a man is trying to show everyone that he wants to be there for his family, but deep inside he wants to escape. He wants out.”
“And?”
“And so he did,” she said with a pained laugh. “Once everything was over, Mama passed, and that body was finally in the ground, Daddy . . . what can I say? I think he mourned, briefly, then he was on to something else.”
“Something or someone?”
“He remarried. Fast. Just like my ex—”
“Does it bother you that your ex-husband remarried?” Alita had shared that info with Shade just as soon as she heard how Leonard and Desiree up and went to the courthouse one day. She called Shade, venting and stressing, then she abruptly shut off the conversation once she no longer wanted to talk about it anymore.
“Hell, yeah,” she finally said. “It bothered me.”
“At least you’re honest.”
“I’m honest, but not in the way you think. My concern is always for our son.”
Shade watched Leno score another two points. When he tossed the ball, it would seamlessly glide through the air, fall into the basket, like it was destined to do what it did.
“Your son seems fine, Alita. And you probably stress more than you need to.”
“Is that a criticism? Because if I did not come to all these games . . . if I didn’t care who Leno dates, who he hangs out with, then what kind of mama would I be?”
“Be concerned about him, Alita,” Shade told her. “But don’t kill yourself worrying about every detail. You couldn’t fix his dad. You won’t be able to fix his son.”
To Alita that sounded awful.
“Meaning what?” she asked.
“Many things are not in our control.”
“Hmm. That’s what I was scared you were going to say.” All at once it seemed as if the pleasing feelings of sheer joy that Alita had enjoyed with Shade were instantly deflated. Her emotions were so up and down that she knew she needed to learn how to manage them so she could stop tottering over from every negative thing she heard or experienced.
“I don’t want to get religious on you,” Shade continued.
“I must be psychic, because I knew this would happen one day,” she exclaimed. “Go on.”
“Somewhere in the Old Testament, there’s a scripture that talks about how we make plans, but God’s way prevails.”
Alita looked like she didn’t know what the heck he was talking about.
“What God wants is what will happen,” he explained. “We don’t really run a thing. Our job is to trust him no matter what happens.”
“But . . . I don’t like how that sounds.”
“It’s called reality, sweetheart. Are we only to be thankful and praise him when things go our way, but hate him when they don’t?”
She could not reply.
“If God wants to stop anything bad from happening,” Shade explained, “then he can do that, but what if he doesn’t? And it’s also true about good things. Nothing can stop them either. But we still want to trust even when things don’t go our way.”
Alita yearned to believe Shade, draw strength from his words, but to her it felt like closing her eyes and allowing someone else to lead her. And putting her life in another person’s hands was something she’d been afraid to do.
Alita gave her attention back to the game. Leno charged his way down the court and caught the ball when it was passed to him. He slammed the ball in the basket and pumped his fist when the crowd yelled his name.
“You think my son got a chance to go pro?” Alita asked as she watched Leno earn eight more points.
“I can tell he has talent,” Shade told her. “But it’s going to take so many things to get him in the professional leagues. Just keep working with him. Surround him with the best coaches, decent mentors. He has as good a chance as any other young hopeful out here.”
“Thank you.” This time she meant it.
“But, sweetie,” he said in a measured tone, “also know that only one in five million will make it in the NBA. And just like you’re preparing him to play for the pros, you gotta also make sure he’s prepared with his Plan B.”
“You mean prepare him for a ‘what if’ because Leno might not make it? Is that what you’re saying?”
“Alita,” he said. “Don’t get angry.”
“I’m not angry—”
“Hear me out. Be quick to listen, babe, slow to speak.”
She calmed down, nodded. “Okay. What were you about to tell me?”
“You’re being a good mom if you tell your son the realities of the world, and I think you try to do that. And if you really want to keep it real, make sure Leno understands that studying is important, education is number one, and make him gain those transferable skills he needs to secure a good job. Because even those that go pro only play in the league for twenty years, tops. They must have a Plan B and stay prepared for the unexpected.”
“I hear you,” Alita responded. “Dream big, but not too big, because something can come and take your dreams away . . . see, that’s exactly why I act like I do. The stuff you love, the thing you thought was yours, gets snatched away.”
“Oh, it’s all right to have dreams, to want big things.”
She nodded. “It’s hard to dream sometimes, you know what I mean?” she boldly told him. “Some people just luckier than others. You’re a decent man, and you have a good relationship with God. I can tell he has your back. Well, me and Jesus don’t roll that way. Maybe he’s paying me back for all my sins. And I have more than you can count.”
“Don’t say that. He’s for you, not against you. If you’re all right with me, then you’re all right with him too.”
“Oh, so you God’s chief of staff?” She was partially joking but kept her annoyance hidden. Although he encouraged Alita to be herself, she wasn’t a hundred percent sure she could do that. If he really knew her for all her faults, would he still encourage her?
“I can’t speak for God,” Shade replied. “No one can. Not even the preacher man. But hey, if we feel led to say something, we give it a shot. That’s fair, right?”
“I guess. I can’t imagine God wanting to say anything to me. So if I g
otta hear it through y’all, then I guess that’s just how it’s gon’ be. Going to be.”
He laughed. “Stop. It’s okay. Relax. You are beautiful and acceptable the way you are.”
He grew bolder and reached over to caress a mole on her neck.
“Hey!” Alita protested.
“Every inch of you is beautiful. Own it.”
During the rest of the game, she pulled out a mirror, glanced at her reflection, and tried hard to see all the beautiful things that Shade saw in her.
CHAPTER 17
Tribal Matters
A couple of weeks later, Alita was at work. Ten minutes remained in her lunch break. She was about to call her brother-in-law and check on the bonus check for Elyse.
Before she could dial Nate’s number, her phone began to buzz. Caller ID informed her it was Leonard.
“Hello,” she said, sounding cautious.
“Oh, I am surprised you picked up.”
“I’m surprised you’re calling me, ex-husband. Aren’t you supposed to be on your honeymoon?”
He laughed. “I just wanted to check on you. See how you doing.” He paused. “Where are you?”
“Why?”
He quieted down as if he was listening for sounds that would give him a clue.
“Alita, I don’t want anything much.”
“We already know that—”
“But I did want to tell you that Leno has reached out to me about taking him to Villanova. He wants to visit their campus.”
“He does? Leno never told me that.”
“He might have forgotten. So is that okay with you? What’s your schedule like this week? We can coordinate so it won’t impact you. In fact, Leno told me that on Tuesdays you work at that catalog customer service job.” He paused. “Is that where you are right now?”
“Leonard, what do you really want? Get to the point.”
“I want to go ahead and buy airplane tickets . . . for me, Leno, and my new wife, of course. We’d leave for Pennsylvania in a couple of days. It would just be for Thursday through Sunday.”
“What? That means Leno would miss two days of school. It’s getting close to the end of this term. He needs to stay focused on his classes.”
“I know, but he really wants to go. And I want to enjoy the experience of taking him. It would be cool if my son could attend college, since you didn’t go.”
“Excuse me. You don’t have a degree either.”
“I know, and that’s why I really want to help Leno explore a college campus since . . . you know, you would die first before you let him become a car salesman like his daddy.”
Based on his comment, Alita knew that her son had told his dad the things she said about him behind his back. That pissed her off. But at the same time, his taking Leno on the trip could be a good thing. Yet, she felt left out. It seemed just like the time father and son visited the Alamo together.
“Um, Leonard. I don’t know about this. I don’t appreciate how you springing this on me at the last second. I’ll have to think about it.”
In reality, Leonard already knew that there was nothing for her to think about. He’d been testing Alita since he first called, just to see how she’d respond.
“Too late for that, Alita. To be honest, the tickets have already been bought. They’re nonrefundable. And Leno is going as far as I’m concerned. So be a good mother and help our son pack his suitcase. I’m picking him up tomorrow night around seven.”
Leonard never even gave her a chance to argue.
He said, “Bye,” then hung up.
“Fucking bastard,” she said at the dead connection. “It was a set up all along. He made a fool out of me.”
Alita’s hand trembled uncontrollably. She didn’t want to return to her job feeling and looking emotionally unstable. But she went back to her workstation and put on her headphones.
As soon as she sat down, the telephones started ringing.
She answered, giving her usual spiel, and tried to listen as a customer told Alita she wanted to place an order for some clothes and shoes.
“What is your name and phone number? Do you already have an account?”
She rolled her eyes as she verified the customer’s identity.
“Okay, what you wanna order? You know the catalog number?” Alita knew that she wasn’t going by the script. But right then she didn’t feel like doing the right thing.
“What you say? You don’t know the item number and you want me to look up every item for you?”
She mouthed “Fuck” and tried to make her voice sound happy and helpful.
“I will be so delighted to help you with your order today. Now you say you need some drawers? What kind, ma’am? What size? How many? What color? What fabric?”
Alita forced herself to act like she cared about all the clothes the old lady said she wanted to buy to impress her new twenty-year-old boyfriend.
“Yes, his name is Fred. And he is hot. I think this is the one.”
“You’s just a big ole fool, lady. That young man ain’t thinking ’bout you. You wasting your money trying to impress him ’cause he probably lying up with some other bitch right now.”
“Excuse me?” the caller said. “Were you talking to me?”
Before Alita could respond, a stranger walked up to her holding an envelope. He waved it at her and tried to get her attention.
“Um, may I place you on hold?” Alita didn’t wait till the woman said okay. She cursed herself. She had hoped that her customer couldn’t hear her when she was commenting about the lady’s personal life, and Alita had already been written up once before for her unprofessional conduct.
Alita glanced up at the man who stared at her with no expression. How did he get in their secured area? Alita noticed one of her coworkers scurrying away from the room. Maybe she had let him in.
“Um, you’re not supposed to be in here, sir. How may I help you?”
“Are you Alita Reeves Washington?”
“Who’s asking?”
“I’m just wondering, because that’s what your badge indicates right there. It says you’re her, ma’am.”
“Then why you asking, if you already know I’m Alita?”
“Fine, Alita. Nice to meet you. This special package is for you. Please sign.”
Alita paused but signed his manifest. Once he left her cubicle, she shrugged, tossed the envelope on her desk, and tried to regain her composure. She resumed the conversation with her customer, completed the order, and disconnected the call. She stared at the envelope and hoped another call would come in. But since it didn’t, she reluctantly opened the brown envelope and reviewed its contents.
After reading a couple of paragraphs, Alita powered off her computer, located her boss, and told him that she had a chronic headache and needed to go right away. Alita couldn’t afford to leave work a few hours early. It meant she wouldn’t receive a full day’s pay. But she couldn’t stay.
Burgundy didn’t think anything unusual when Alita showed up unannounced at her door midafternoon. Burgundy typically left Morning Glory around two o’clock each weekday and came straight home unless she had errands to run or civic meetings to attend.
“Hey, Sis,” she greeted Alita who, after ringing the bell, slumped in Burgundy’s doorway with her eyebrows furrowed.
“Hey.”
“Come on in, Lita. What’s popping?”
“Are you busy tonight? Is Nate gonna be here?”
They retreated to the kitchen, where Alita made herself at home by perching on one of the breakfast bar stools.
“Nate and I were going to go to midweek service.”
“He can go, but you can’t. I need you.” Alita explained that she had got off work early and would camp out at her house until that evening.
“Okay, Sis. What’s going on?”
“Sister Day needs to be Sister Night. Tonight. I want all of us to meet. I can’t wait till next month . . . I can’t.”
“Girl, you are scari
ng me.”
“Can we make it happen?”
A few hours later all the sisters had gathered in Burgundy’s family room. She completely understood the curious stares they gave her when she passed around a big bowl of chips and dip. She set up a table filled with sodas, water, iced tea, and freshly squeezed lemonade.
“I know this isn’t the normal eats,” Burgundy explained, but . . .”
“B, why you drag me out here tonight?” Coco said. “A new Empire episode is coming on.”
“Tape it,” Alita snapped.
“I am, smartass, but I still wanted to watch it live—”
“I called this sister meeting, not Burgundy. I really wanted to see y’all and talk to you and be around people that . . .”
“That love your dumb ass?”
“Gee, yeah, thanks, Dark Girl.” Alita removed a letter from the brown envelope she’d placed on the coffee table. “Some jerk got me to sign for this today. I’m so mad I could scream.”
Dru snatched the letter and began to read.
“Wow, this is messed up,” Dru remarked. “Basically, it is stating that Leonard Washington is seeking full custody of his son. And he wants to hold a hearing and allow a judge to decide if he can have Leno. He claims Alita kept him from his child’s life, that she has verbally and physically abused Leno, and that she has prevented Leonard from exercising his parental rights throughout his formative years. Well, we all know that’s a lie from the pit of hell.”
“I could have predicted this one,” Coco responded. “My nephew balling so good; why wouldn’t his father want to jump on that?”
“Tell you what. Let’s talk about the November Sister Assignment,” Burgundy suggested. “Not that it is the end-all or be-all, but it helps us all be of one accord and have the same mind if we take this seriously.” She withdrew the document she had created that listed all the year’s assignments in advance.
Burgundy laughed, then started reading. “Remember it says, ‘Call, text, or email someone from the past to show it’s not all about you.’ Has everyone done that? Dru?”