While all this was exactly as I’d dreamed it would be, nothing made my heart race like when I had Barrett in my arms after a hard practice or a victory over a tough opponent.
On the first Saturday in October, the Jaguars’ streak continued as we beat Florida 37–31 in a homecoming victory. I rushed for 267 yards in three quarters and was able to rest and watch Delmar finish his third 100-yard game, which was an amazing feat for a blocking back.
We had raced off to a 28–0 lead going into the fourth quarter, only to have Florida’s quarterback, Chris Leake, throw four touchdown passes in eight minutes to bring the Gators back. A touchdown by Delmar in overtime saved the Jaguar victory.
My mother was in the stands in her normal spot, and she had told me she needed to talk with me alone after the game. Translation: Lose Barrett. I knew my mother didn’t understand how I felt about Barrett, so I told Barrett that I would meet her at her apartment later in the evening.
When my mother and I walked into the Rib Shack, CGU fans started applauding as loudly as they had in the stadium earlier. Several fans started chanting, “Heisman…Heisman,” as I blushed and my mother smiled proudly. Brando, owner of the restaurant, greeted us and escorted us to the private dining room my mother had requested.
“I wish I could say dinner is on me,” Brando said. “But I don’t want to get the next Heisman winner in trouble with the NCAA.”
“No problem, Brando. We both understand,” my mother said, sitting down after he pulled out her chair.
“Enjoy your meal, and if there is anything I can do, just tell your waiter to come and get me,” Brando said before he left the room.
After we ordered, my mother seemed as if she was ready to start her speech, when she noticed that my ring finger was naked.
“Brady, where is your ring?”
“It’s in my pocket,” I said as I dug my hands into my jeans.
“Why aren’t you wearing it?”
“Chill, Mom. I’m going to put it back on. I just didn’t feel like having the fellas tease me today, so I didn’t put it on after I took my shower,” I said. The truth was that I didn’t know how much longer I would be able to wear the ring. Barrett’s kisses drove me wild and I knew my body wanted more. I knew I couldn’t use the excuse I’d used the first time Chloe went down on me that it wasn’t really sex. With Barrett I would make love like I had with Naomi.
“You sure you can still wear it?” my mother asked.
“What are you talking about, Mom? Of course I can still wear it,” I said, looking away nervously.
“Well, I am certainly glad to hear that. I mean, ever since you’ve been spending time with that girl, I’ve been concerned that you might forget how important your vow was.”
“Mom, her name is Barrett, and she knows how important the ring is to me and she respects that,” I said.
My mother looked directly into my eyes to see if I was telling the truth. It was something she could usually count on, so she had to know that I was lying. After a few moments of awkward silence, she said, “You just make sure you both continue to respect your vow.”
“I’m straight.”
“Brady, you know how much I love you and how I want the best for you. I’ve made you my life’s work, and I won’t let anyone hurt my baby.”
“Nobody’s going to hurt me, Mom,” I said.
“How much do you know about this Barrett?”
“I know she’s the most wonderful girl I’ve ever met,” I said.
“I’m sure you think that’s true, but let’s face it, baby, you’re not that experienced when it comes to women and the tricks they play. Don’t you know that there are young ladies who come to college just to snag someone like you?”
“Barrett’s not like that. She cares for me,” I said.
“Is she a virgin?”
“Does that matter?”
“Yes, it does. Not only is it important for me that you do well in school and football, but also that you keep the vow you made in church before God.”
“Look, Mom, I’m not having sex, and if that changes I will do what you taught me, and that is get married. I will ask Barrett to be my wife,” I said calmly.
“After several weeks? Brady, you’re too young to be thinking about getting married. You have your entire life in front of you.”
“How long did you know my father?” I asked.
“What does that matter?”
“How long, Mom?” I demanded.
“I met him in high school.”
“When did you know you were in love with him?”
“Brady, that’s in the past. This girl is not good for you,” she said sternly.
“But I want Barrett to be a part of my life.”
“Please tell me you’re not serious about her, Brady.”
“I can’t do that, Mom. I think it’s time for me to see what I’ve been missing.”
“Think about this. Please!”
“I will, but I don’t want to lose Barrett.”
“If she is the right girl, then you won’t lose her,” my mother said.
“I need your support on this, Mom,” I pleaded.
“Brady, I can’t.”
There was a long silence.
My mother looked like she was on the verge of tears, but she didn’t let them fall. I touched her hand and looked lovingly into her eyes and said, “Mom, please think about this. I don’t want to consider something as serious as marriage without you.”
After a few minutes of silence, my mother finally said, “Then don’t.”
CHAPTER
14
Barrett and the AKAs
Before Barrett walked into the Student Union, she tried to reach her mother one more time.
“What do you want?” Lita asked in the groggy voice that sounded like she’d just woken up from a deep drunken sleep.
“Where have you been? I’ve been trying to reach you,” Barrett said.
“Mind your own damn business. I don’t need you to keep up with me,” Lita said.
“Who’s watching Wade?”
“What in the hell do you want?”
“Why did you give that May-Jean woman my address? I told you not to talk about anything that concerns me. Do you know what could happen if Chris finds out where I am?”
“It would serve your ass right.”
“Okay, be that way, but you won’t get another penny from me if you give out my information again. Do I make myself clear?” Barrett said.
Lita didn’t answer, and a few seconds later Barrett heard a dial tone.
“That bitch makes me sick,” she said to herself as she walked into the food court.
After surveying her choices, Barrett picked up a chicken wrap and longed for the day when she could go back to eating caviar, roasted chicken, and a baked potato fully loaded. She hated this broke-down tired cafeteria food and the entire campus scene, but Nico told her she should put in an appearance on campus at least once or twice a week to make it look like she was a serious college student.
Sometimes Barrett tried to believe this was her life. She liked to imagine that she was a carefree college student, with rich parents paying her bills and putting unlimited funds into her checking account.
After paying for the wrap, Barrett spotted an empty table with only one chair. Then she heard Shante Willis call out her name.
“Barrett, why don’t you join us?” Shante said.
Even though she hated to admit it after that phone call with Lita, Barrett did feel like a little companionship—but very little. She wasn’t down for a female powwow, just some polite and quick conversation. Plus, she could always get up and go if they started working her nerves.
“Yeah, girl, come on over here,” Shante said.
Barrett sat down with great fanfare, and then eyed the other girls suspiciously.
“Barrett, these are my sorority sisters—Whitney, Beth, and Amber,” Shante said.
“Nice meeting you,” Amber said.
<
br /> “I haven’t seen you on campus,” Whitney said.
“Oh, I’ve been around,” Barrett said as she took the plastic off her wrap. This Whitney obviously had herself confused with the one and only Miss Diva Whitney. Who did she think she was, questioning Barrett Elizabeth Manning?
“Where are you from?” Beth asked.
“Atlanta,” Barrett said as she took the first bite of the wrap and thought, These chicks are nosy, nosy, nosy.
“What part?” Amber asked.
“What?” Barrett asked, raising her eyebrow.
“What part of Atlanta? I’m from Atlanta. Maybe we can share a ride the next time we go home,” Amber said.
“I’m from Buckhead,” Barrett lied proudly. The truth was that one day, she wouldn’t mind having a second home in Buckhead—the shopping was all that and then some.
“Fancy,” Whitney said.
“So who is teaching the Chi Os?” Shante asked.
“Hannah, I think,” Amber said.
“No, Hannah is teaching the A O Pis,” Whitney said.
“Who’s teaching the Kappas?” Amber asked.
“Sarah Beavers,” Shante said.
“I didn’t know Sarah was still in school. I thought she got married,” Amber said.
“She gets married this summer,” Shante said.
The incessant jabbering was making Barrett’s ass hurt. What language were they speaking? The whole situation was getting on Barrett’s nerves, and she wanted to finish her food and get the hell out of the Union.
“I bet the Pi Phis win again,” Whitney said.
But since Barrett was on a college campus and she remembered the ad that said a mind is a terrible thing to waste, she figured she could at least ask a question or two. “What kinda mess are you girls talking about, Shante?”
“We’re talking about the Unity Greek Show,” Shante said, and laughed.
“What’s that?” Barrett asked.
“It’s one of the biggest events on campus. Our sorority, Alpha Kappa Alpha, throws the Unity Greek Step Show every year during homecoming. Our sorority and our brother fraternity, Alpha Phi Alpha, teach the white sororities and fraternities how to step. It’s a large-scale multicultural dance show. It’s a big deal. Everybody on campus comes out, but we usually have to turn people away,” Shante said.
“You mean to tell me that the black students share their moves with the white students?” Barrett asked. “You teach them your stuff? Why can’t they make up their own shit?” Barrett continued.
“That’s why it’s called Unity, silly,” Whitney said.
Barrett cut her eyes at Whitney, wondering who this bitch was calling silly.
“Whatever,” Barrett said, and sighed.
“You should come,” Shante said. “I can get you a ticket.”
“Don’t think so. I have some big tests coming up,” Barrett lied, then added, “Don’t let me hold you girls.” She’d had her fill of females for the day.
Shante, Whitney, Beth, and Amber stood up, grabbed their trays, and told Barrett it was nice meeting her and they hoped she would come to the show.
“Yeah, right,” Barrett mumbled as she finished her wrap, not even looking up as they left the table.
Dear Diary,
It’s taking me longer to get Brady in bed than I expected. I don’t know where he gets his self-control from, because if he knew what’s between my legs he wouldn’t be such a gentleman. The last job I did like this was with NBA wannabe Chris Johns at the University of Washington.
On a rainy Seattle evening, Chris Johns eased into my bed sure as sugar, and he came back day after day and couldn’t get enough of what I had between my legs. Almost two weeks later, he was proclaiming his love for me and telling me he wanted me to meet his mama. Every time he brought up meeting her I would whip some of my good stuff on him and he’d forget. Mamas don’t like me and I should have remembered that before meeting Brady’s mama.
Seattle was a cool place to live, but Nico insisted that I leave the minute Chris signed over his power of attorney to him and was locked in as one of Chris’s clients. One of the first things he did was “invest” a lot of Chris’s signing bonus with phony stocks he’d made himself on his printer. Chris with his dumb ass didn’t have a clue because he was whipped and saw some sheets of worthless paper. Besides I was telling Chris how brilliant I thought Nico was every chance I got. It also helped that Chris was dumber than dirt.
After we got Chris and I got my share, I did what I always did after I finished a job: I took a great vacation, sent some money to my mother for Wade, and then waited for my next assignment and name change. I put aside almost half of my earnings in a savings account I opened using Wade’s social security number. Nobody including Nico knows about my secret stash.
It seems that the stakes keep getting higher with each and every job, and I’ve been making Nico a lot of money, and when I finish with Brady it’ll be my turn to really cash in. Aside from money, Nico usually gets me little gifts—after Chris, I got a pair of diamond studs. After Brady I’m expecting a big payoff, a little something for my ring finger and the ultimate prize of becoming Mrs. Nico Benson.
CHAPTER
15
Carmyn’s Quiet Storm
Kellis and I walked out of a stunningly beautiful Sunday-morning service through the doors of New Foundation Baptist Church. My heart was filled with joy because of the season my son was having during his senior year and because Kellis had agreed to join me for services. No small accomplishment. I knew the offer to take Kellis to brunch afterward at the Ritz-Carlton in Buckhead had a lot to do with why she agreed to go to church. I didn’t care, because I missed attending services during the football season.
The day before, Basil Henderson, one of the partners of XJI, had flown to Atlanta and taken me to lunch at Jermaine Dupri’s Café Dupri, off of Piedmont. It had been delightful, and not only was Basil one of the most handsome men I’d seen in a long time, but he was knowledgeable about what he would do for Brady and his professional career. I made up my mind that Brady would definitely visit his firm once the season was over.
We were waiting for the ushers to open the doors of the church when Sister Jolene approached us. She was wearing an incredibly unflattering yellow suit and an alarming shade of red lipstick.
“Good morning, Sister Carmyn. Praise the Lord,” she said.
“Good morning, Sister Jolene. Praise the Lord,” I said.
“I’m Sister Jolene,” she said as she extended her hand toward Kellis.
“I’m sorry. This is my good friend Kellis,” I said.
“Welcome to New Foundation,” Sister Jolene said.
“Thank you, and nice meeting you as well,” Kellis said.
Just as we were getting ready to go inside the church, Sister Jolene said, “So sorry to hear about our girl.”
I turned and asked, “What girl?”
“You didn’t hear? I thought you knew.”
“Thought I knew what?” I asked, hoping Sister Jolene wasn’t getting ready to deliver some mean-spirited gossip.
“Come over here, let me tell you,” Sister Jolene said, using her ring finger to beckon me to the corner.
I leaned over and heard, “Your girl Shelby got herself knocked up.” I felt the gust of her voice as she whispered and it felt like fire, and then I thought of a phone call and a few e-mails I’d gotten from Shelby that I hadn’t gotten around to answering.
“Who told you that?” I demanded. I hadn’t seen or heard from Shelby since I’d done her hair a few weeks ago. I had been worried about her the day I’d received that disturbing phone call and didn’t pay attention to her rumblings about her boyfriend, Torrian.
“Her mother. I was over there yesterday, so not only did I hear it, I saw it. Yeah, Little Miss Thing is knocked up. I think she’s going to give it up. Her mother is so upset. It was like a funeral over there, so I felt the need to take over one of my cobblers. That girl had so much potential,” Sis
ter Jolene said.
I suddenly felt nauseated and empty. It was another reminder that no one emerges unscathed from youth, no matter how many groups they join. I thought about Brady and that girl Barrett and knew it was going to be hard for my son to resist her. And I thought about the last time I saw Shelby and how I brushed off her questions because I was worried about someone finding out my secrets. I no longer wanted to go into church; I wanted to go home, where I could crawl into bed and eat chocolate.
“How is Brady doing? We’ve been hearing folk talk about him and that trophy,” Sister Jolene said.
I didn’t answer her, because my eyes were misting up. I blinked the tears away.
“Did you hear me, Carmyn?”
“I’m sorry. What did you say?”
“How’s Brady?”
“Brady is doing well. Excuse me, Sister,” I said. I touched Kellis and whispered, “Let’s get out of here.”
“Okay, we can leave. But does this mean I don’t get brunch?” Kellis asked.
I didn’t answer and just headed toward the door.
CHAPTER
16
Brady’s Mailbag or Fan Mail
On a glorious Saturday afternoon designed by God for college football, several of my dreams came true. Running like I was possessed, I rushed for 323 yards and four touchdowns as we beat the defending national champs, the Texas Longhorns, 38–25 in front of a record crowd of 82,329 screaming fans. The win gave us the longest winning streak in the nation for the year.
After the game, several University of Texas players came up to congratulate me and wish me well in the Heisman race. One of the linebackers who had charged me for much of the day told me, “Man, they just need to mail you that trophy.”
Just Too Good to Be True Page 16