Homecoming Weekend

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Homecoming Weekend Page 29

by Curtis Bunn


  Their relationship was hardly a secret, but not many people knew. This was their coming-out party, and they did it with a bang.

  “We’ve got to talk,” Leslie, Earl’s friend, said when they connected for a moment. She and Earl kept in touch, but had not spoken in several months, so she was surprised to see him with Catherine.

  Earl went outside the ballroom and admired what he saw: Alphas and Ques and Kappas convening, as one; Deltas and AKAs posing for photos; women complimenting each other on how they looked; brothers laughing and joking; old cliques still together, twenty-five years later; cameras flashing all over the place.

  “Eddie,” Earl called out and Eddie Keith turned around.

  “Oh, shit,” he said loudly when he saw Earl. They had not seen each other since 1981. They hugged and laughed and recalled going to the closed-circuit viewing of the Sugar Ray Leonard-Tommy Hearns welterweight championship fight at the Scope.

  “It was September 16, 1981, to be precise,” Earl recalled. “I had thirty dollars to my name. That’s it. It cost twenty-five dollars to go see the fight. It was a Wednesday night. I left myself with five dollars. I wasn’t going to miss that fight.”

  “That’s a hell of a college memory,” Eddie said. “Sugar Ray won in an epic fight. Great night.”

  Catherine had not been to homecoming since her divorce, although she lived in the area. Many of her old classmates had not seen her over that time, so it was especially nice for her to see familiar faces, especially so many of her sorority sisters.

  But as nice as that was, it was all about Earl for her. And it was all about Catherine for him.

  Earl’s friends joked with him about all the attention he gave Catherine. And he didn’t care.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  IT’S GOING DOWN

  The Whole Damn Gang

  “I’m glad to hear that,” Jimmy said to Maurice, who brought his wife to homecoming. Their issues of Friday were resolved and Maurice and Eula were having a great experience. “It makes me feel like maybe I can bring my wife next year . . . Maybe.”

  They sat at a table sipping Cosmos when Maurice excused himself, leaving Jimmy with Eula. “I’m glad it got better for you; you didn’t look happy yesterday,” he said.

  “Now that I’m here, I see why he would want to come alone,” Eula admitted. “It’s not really for me since I don’t know anyone and didn’t go here, but I’m glad I came. I like seeing him so happy with his friends.”

  They chatted for a few more minutes before Jimmy felt the presence of someone standing over him. He turned around and looked up to see Donna. He had ditched her when she went to the bathroom. It was his protective mechanism.

  “I thought you were going to wait for me,” she said.

  “Donna, this is Eula, my friend Maurice’s wife,” he said. Identifying Eula took the edge off of Donna.

  “You want to dance?” Donna asked Jimmy.

  “Actually, sit down,” he said. “Let’s talk.”

  They sat on the other side of the round table, away from Eula. “Look, I don’t want to sound presumptuous, but it seems like you are interested in me,” he said. “And that’s flattering. But I’m married. That means something to me.”

  “What does it mean?” she said.

  “It means I’m going to say bye to you right now,” he said. “It was nice meeting you.”

  “Wait,” Donna pleaded. “I have to tell you something . . . met you before yesterday.”

  “What? When?” Jimmy said.

  “At Monica’s family reunion two years ago,” she said. “Monica is my cousin.”

  Jimmy looked at Donna hard. “Family reunion? In Houston?” he said.

  “Yes.”

  “There were so many people there. I don’t remember you,” he said. “So what was all this about? You trying to come on to your cousin’s husband?”

  “No, I would never do that,” she said. “I was . . . was . . . ”

  “You were testing me?” he said.

  She nodded her head, somewhat embarrassed.

  He looked at her. Finally, she said, “When I saw you on Friday at The Mansion, I immediately thought I knew you, but I couldn’t place where. Then I heard your name and it hit me right away. I was waiting for you to say something, but you never did. I hadn’t talked to Monica in about a month. Last time I talked to her you all were hanging out at 14th and U Streets. You remember that night?”

  “Damn. I do,” Jimmy said. “I remember her even asking me to remind her to call her cousin in Virginia when we left. But why didn’t you say something to me yesterday?”

  “I don’t know,” she answered. “I was, and then I thought I would just see what happened.”

  “You mean spy on me?” Jimmy said. “Worse than that, tonight you get all aggressive to test me? I knew it was strange you came on so strongly all of a sudden. I have one question.”

  “No, Monica did not ask me to spy on you,” she answered. “I’m surprised she didn’t call me to tell me you were going to be in town. She still hasn’t called me back from my last call to her.”

  Jimmy was a little angry and a lot relieved. He was angry that Donna had taken it upon herself to test his commitment to his wife. And he was relieved on two fronts: he resisted the advances of Donna; and Monica was not behind Donna’s actions. That would have sent him into an emotional, angry tailspin.

  “Donna, I will get over your little shenanigans at some point,” he told her. “But not right now.”

  He got up and left her sitting there.

  He wanted to check on Carter, but Carter was outside the hotel, pleading with Barbara to let him explain why he was married. “Please let’s go to the car just for a minute and talk in private,” he said.

  She didn’t answer, but she walked with him. He opened the door for her and she got in. Carter rushed to the other side and began his spiel.

  “I’m sorry this is coming out like this, Barbara,” he said. “You knew I dated and I had been dating her for about a year. What I was trying to say is that she is a Seventh-day Adventist, and they are forbidden by the religion to have premarital sex. Well, not everyone abides by it, but when you don’t, you’d better make sure no one knows.

  “Her brother and sister both had children before they were married, and it was ugly. She told me the story of her brother writing their father a letter to tell him his girlfriend was pregnant. She intercepted it and gave it to her mother, who read it and then told her father. But this was after the baby was already born. That’s how nervous her brother was about telling his parents. It was a really big thing. They love the child, of course, but it took them a long time to get over him not being as devout as he was supposed to.

  “And her sister had the same situation: pregnant but petrified to tell her parents. I’m telling you all this to give you some background and some idea about how devout this family is about its religion. So, my, uh . . . ”

  “Go ahead and say it, your wife,” Barbara said angrily.

  “Marlena, that’s her name,” Carter said. “Marlena is the baby of the family, the jewel, the innocent one. In your family, you told me your sister was the one everyone expected to be perfect, to be so wonderful. Well, that’s Marlena to her family. That reputation means everything to her. I have been around long enough to see how they cherish her.

  “I couldn’t refuse her when she asked me. In fact, to be honest, she didn’t ask me. I asked her. I asked her because I care about her and I didn’t want her to crush her parents. She found out she was pregnant really quickly. She was only a few weeks. So we hatched a plan to get married within the month and so when the baby came, it would look like she got pregnant as soon as we got married.

  “You can call me a fool or whatever you want. But it really was about helping preserve the reputation of someone I care about a lot. It meant a lot to her and so I did it.”

  Barbara did not say a word. She stared straight ahead. So, Carter went on.

  “The othe
r reason I did it is because you told me more than once that we didn’t have a future,” he said. “You told me you were not leaving your husband. And you actually told me, now that I think about it, that you would be friends with me if I ever got married. You told me that last year, here at homecoming.”

  “And you think I meant that?” she said.

  “Yes, I did, because you are married—or, were married. So why would you care?” he countered. “Anyway, if you had given me any indication that we had a chance to be together one day, I would not have married Marlena. I’m not blaming you for this. It was my choice. But part of my decision was based on what you told me.”

  Barbara, as angry and hurt as she was, had no retort. She had been adamant with Carter about not expecting anything more than their once-a-year-homecoming rendezvous. He even talked about them meeting somewhere for a weekend in the summer, but she declined. When she played back those scenarios, she softened.

  “So, damn, Carter—I’m single and now you’re married?” she said. “This is crazy.”

  “I know,” he said. “I know.”

  “What are we going to do?” she asked. “And don’t say meet at homecoming once a year.”

  “Oh, that was good when you were married, but not when I’m married?” Carter said. He did not disagree with what she said, but he attacked it on principle.

  “Carter, what are we going to do?” she repeated.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “When you told me you were divorced, my mind got jumbled immediately. I didn’t know how to respond. But I was going to tell you this weekend about Marlena. I tried to figure out how and when, but just couldn’t. When I got to the party, I realized I couldn’t hold it in any longer . . . I’m sorry.”

  “Maybe when your child gets old enough, my kids can babysit them,” Barbara joked. She laughed, easing the tension in the car, which had gotten stuffy.

  “All I know is, I love you,” he said. “I love my . . . wife, but it is different. You are the love of my life. You are. And to not have you like I want you hurts. Above all, it speaks to the power of communication.”

  “If I had told you what I was doing, maybe you wouldn’t have gotten married,” Barbara said.

  He hugged her and wiped the tear that ran down her face. “What we have on our side is love,” Carter whispered into her ear. “Love never loses.”

  “We will see,” Barbara said.

  They stayed in the car another half hour, hugging and comforting each other.

  Inside the party, Tranise located Kwame and apologized. He readily accepted. “You’re a good guy and I want to get to know you,” she said.

  Kwame looked distressed, but not at what Tranise had said. Venita arrived at the party with her niece Diamond and Diamond’s pregnant roommate, Janea. They were dropping off Venita, but decided to at least come into the lobby. Almost immediately, Kwame’s and Janea eyes met.

  “Excuse me a minute,” he said to Tranise. He was trying to separate himself from her before Janea got to them.

  “What’s wrong? Tranise said.

  “Hold on,” Kwame said. He walked a few feet away from her to greet Janea. They hugged. “I didn’t know you were going to be here,” Janea said.

  “I didn’t know you were, either,” he said. “I went to the concert first and then came here.”

  “Miss Venita, this is my boyfriend, Kwame,” Janea said.

  Venita could see something was amiss by the expression on Tranise’s face. “How are you?” Venita said. “Nice to meet you. Handsome young man.”

  “Thank you,” Kwame said. The cool he possessed all weekend was gone. He was obviously uneasy.

  “Tranise, this is . . . Janea,” he said, “and Diamond and . . . I’m sorry; did she say Venita?”

  Tranise shook everyone’s hand. But there were a few awkward moments of silence. Janea wondered who Tranise was; Tranise wondered who Janea was to Kwame. Venita picked up on it and broke the silence.

  “Tranise, you’re a Spartan?” she asked. As Tranise answered, Venita walked over to the other side of Tranise so she would have to turn her back to Kwame and the girls to respond. And as soon as she started talking, Kwame tapped her on the shoulder. “I’ll be right back,” he said, and he and Janea and Diamond walked off.

  Tranise could only nod her head. “If I’m wrong, I apologize,” Venita said. “But it looked like you are with Kwame. Is that right?”

  “I’m not with him,” she said. “We met yesterday and have been getting to know each other. Why?”

  “Oh, well, I’m certainly not trying to get into anyone’s business,” Venita said. “I just want to say this: that young man’s girlfriend is Janea. I don’t know if he told you he had a girlfriend or not. But they are in a delicate situation and he might not be coming back here after they talk.”

  “His girlfriend? She looks like a college student,” Tranise said.

  “She is,” Venita said, “a senior.”

  “Interesting night for me,” Tranise said.

  “Tell me about it,” Venita said. “You want a drink. Or, if you indulge, I have a joint.”

  “Shit, how about both?” Tranise said, and they laughed and headed to the bar.

  They became fast friends, laughing and joking about the weekend and their college days. Tranise told Venita she needed to go to the bathroom before they went outside to smoke the weed.

  She stood in the mirror applying lip gloss when a stall door opened behind her. It was Felicia.

  Tranise looked at her through the mirror. Felicia saw her and frowned. She made her way to a sink next to Tranise, who was preparing to let her know all about how her husband, Brandon, had come on to her.

  “Why do you hate me?” Felicia said.

  It was a fair question, an honest question. Tranise was stumped.

  “Well, I remember all the things you did to me in college,” she finally said. “And you slept with my boyfriend, Michael Jennings.”

  “Tranise, I didn’t do anything to you in college,” she said. “Your friends told my friends that you said I thought I was cute and that I was snobby. My response to them was: ‘I am cute. But if she said it, she’s wrong about being snobby.’ That’s all I ever said.”

  Tranise said: “My friends said you said, ‘Damn right I’m cute and cuter than her. And I have a right to be snobby to her. And she’s not AKA material.’ “

  “I did not say that,” she said. “Why would I? I didn’t even know you.”

  “Well, what about the attitude?” Tranise said.

  “I had the attitude because you had an attitude,” Felicia said.

  They smiled about how silly it all sounded. “But what about Michael, Felicia? You didn’t have to go there,” Tranise said.

  “No offense, but Michael was not my type,” she said. “I never slept with him. In fact, I knew him, but that was the extent of it. He never even came on to me.”

  “I asked him about you and he said, ‘I’m sorry. You don’t want me to say it, do you?’ He led me to believe you all had something going on,” Tranise said.

  “No, girl,” Felicia said. “No.”

  They both felt even more silly. Two of the most dynamic women on campus were arch-enemies for . . . nothing.

  Telling Felicia about Brandon’s advances became something she just could not and would not do. She was about to apologize when she noticed Felicia again frowning, but this time from pain. She held her stomach.

  “Oh, my God,” she said. “Oh, my God.”

  Tranise rushed to her side, holding her up.

  “What is it?” she pleaded.

  “Sharp pain in my stomach,” she said.

  “It’s okay, I got you, girl,” Tranise said. “Just breathe. But don’t have that baby right now. I ain’t ready for that.”

  Even in her pain, Felicia looked into the mirror, where their eyes met and they shared a brief laugh. “Me, either,” Felicia said.

  Holding her up, Tranise kicked open the stall behind her and
slowly eased Felicia into it and sat her down on the toilet. “You’ve got to sit down. I’m calling 9-1-1,” she said. “And what’s Brandon’s number?”

  She poured out the contents of her black clutch on the counter and retrieved her phone. Between grunts, Felicia got out his number. Tranise reached someone at emergency.

  “Listen, we’re in the woman’s bathroom by the ballroom at the Holiday Inn off Newtown Road,” she said. “My pregnant friend is having pain and I see some spotting. You’ve got to get an ambulance here right away . . . What? She’s seven months’ pregnant, so it’s not time yet. How long before they get here?”

  Holding her stomach and holding onto the stall’s wall, Felicia looked up at Tranise. “Your ‘friend’?” she said.

  Tranise froze. “Yes, my friend, as of two minutes ago,” she said. She then grabbed a paper towel, wet it and dabbed Felicia’s face.

  “Shit,” Tranise said. “Brandon’s not answering. He probably can’t hear it. How you feeling?”

  “Like there’s pressure on my stomach,” she said. “What’s going on? I’ve never felt this before.”

  She held her hand with both hers. “It’s going to be okay. They’ll be here any moment. I’m not going to leave you.”

  “Our friends would die if they saw this picture: you in a stall on a toilet and me holding your hand,” Tranise said, and they shared another laugh.

  “Let’s meet them at the front,” Felicia said. “I can walk. I don’t want them busting through the party, making a scene coming all through the lobby. That’s not a good look for me to be wheeled out of here on a stretcher.”

  “How vain is that?” Tranise said. “And I totally understand, girl.”

  They laughed once more. She helped Felicia to her feet. She teased her hair to get it back in place. Felicia held her arm as they gingerly exited the bathroom. But they stopped at the last of a series of mirrors and fixed themselves up even more.

  “I get the feeling, ironically enough, that we’re a lot alike,” Felicia said.

 

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