A Cold Piece of Work

by Curtis Bunn

  Michele soaked every measure of her heart and soul into her kid, and was almost paranoid about him being “soft” or a “Momma’s Boy.” The dad was not around and so she played mommy and daddy, mother and father. Never a big fan of sports, she learned the basics of football and basketball. If she were interested in it, Gerald would be, too.

  The idea of her son actually playing football, though, was too much for Michele. That’s why she signed him up at Gresham Park for basketball.

  “Daddy, football is too rough,” she told her father. “I want him to be tough, a regular boy. But I don’t want him with broken arms, either. If he gets one playing basketball, then I’ll have to deal with it. But at least in basketball the idea is not to throw you to the ground, like football. With basketball, he can play with other boys and hopefully learn about being on a team and togetherness and all the stuff that sports brings out.”

  Gerald received all that—and the only consistent male figure in his life that instilled values in him that only a man could offer. Some husbands of her married girlfriends offered to help, but made only token efforts. The irony that it was Solomon who put in almost daily time with Gerald over the course of several months caused her serious trepidation.

  She was thrilled when her son continually talked about “Coach Money” and took to heart his words of being responsible and making his mom proud. But knowing Solomon had the capability to walk away at any time was unsettling.

  How could she possibly trust anything he said? Why wouldn’t he walk away from a group of kids that included her son? Solomon might have remained in her blood stream like an IV drip for nearly eight years, but Gerald was her life’s blood. Nothing or no one came before him. She would protect him at all costs.

  “How can I allow G to be around that man?” Michele asked her cousin, Sonya. “I know what he’s capable of.”

  “I know,” she responded. “But it also seems like he’s capable of really being a male figure that could help Gerald. You said he responded to Solomon. I’m his godmother and I want to protect him, too. If a man can come along and pry him away from your paranoid arms and toughen him up, that can’t be a bad thing.

  “Listen, girl. I know from my girlfriend, Gina. Same thing happened to her. So-called boyfriend ran when she showed him the pregnancy test results. And ever since, her life mission has been to protect her son. But no amount of watching sports together and knocking him down and not babying him can replace what a man can share with a boy. The best mothers in the world—and you and her are right up there with the best of them—can’t be the best daddies in the world.

  “You feel me? So, I’m not saying let him play for Solomon. But I’m not saying don’t let him play, either. That’s your decision. There’s no defending what he did to you. But the man has had an impact on Gerald. That should count for something.”

  It counted for a lot, actually. But how could she account for Solomon?

  CHAPTER 7

  CAN’T STOP, WON’T STOP

  “She listened to me; that’s the best I can say about it,” Solomon told Ray that afternoon. “She didn’t budge. She was composed, but furious. Kinda sexy, actually, that she could be so angry with me but hold it together like that.”

  “You find the weirdest stuff to get turned on by, I see,” Ray said.

  “Actually, it takes a lot to turn me on. I’m not conventional,” Solomon said. “Like, for instance, most men prefer a woman just butt-naked.”

  “And? What’s wrong with that?” Ray said.

  “I didn’t say anything was wrong with it,” Solomon answered. “I’m just saying I prefer sexy, tasteful lingerie. That creates anticipation, an allure. It adds to the moment.”

  “So, Michele made you want her more because she cursed you out without cursing?”

  “I wouldn’t put it that way, but she did show me that she’s poised, which is good,” Solomon said. “But I already knew that. This is a chick who jumps out of planes, so she’s not fearful of much.”

  “For your purposes, the fact that she took the time to talk to you means she’s willing to talk, at least,” Ray said.

  “Yeah, well now it’s time to see if she’s willing to text me,” Solomon said. “I looked at my team’s parents contact list last night. Her cell number is on it. I’m going to hit her up and see what happens.”

  What he would text her, he was not sure. He spent hours trying to figure out the approach that would get a response from her. Solomon actually had to grow into text-messaging. He, at first, had no use for it. He considered it a passive means of communication. “If you have time to sit there pressing buttons, just call me,” he said.

  But he saw the benefits of it as time wore on and actually came to rely on it. “I’d rather do this than actually have to talk to some of these women,” he said.

  He preferred to speak to Michele, but he strategized that passive-aggressive would be the best route. So, after watching Curb Your Enthusiasm on HBO, Solomon changed into some lounge-wear, made himself comfortable on his couch in the den and started with his next phase of pursuing Michele.

  “Hi Michele. This is Solomon,” his first text read.

  He waited ten minutes for a response and got none.

  So he texted her again.

  “What, u scared of me?” he wrote. It was a risk, but he concluded he needed to touch an emotion with her. Even if she responded angrily, he believed he could turn her. Anything to get her started.

  Michele, dressed in a long pink cotton gown, rested in bed and flipped channels and actually was thinking of Solomon as her BlackBerry chimed, indicating she had a text message. Her heart fluttered when she read that it was from Solomon, but she decided to not respond.

  Instead, she called Sonya, who was with her the night she met Solomon. “Girl, why not text him back?” Sonya said. “There’s no harm seeing what he has to say.”

  “I figured you’d say that,” Michele responded. “You always had a soft spot for him, even when he disappeared.”

  “If you knew I would say that, then why did you call me?” Sonya said.

  “What you trying to say?” Michele answered.

  “I’m saying you wanted me to say it’s all right to text him back. “I know you. If you didn’t, you would’ve called someone else.”

  “Maybe you’re right—about knowing me,” Michele said, laughing. “I’m not conceding anything else.”

  “Call me after you finish texting him,” Sonya said. “Bye.”

  Of course, Sonya was right. Michele merely needed a confirmation from someone she trusted. She could have called any of her friends that she knew would tell her to ignore Solomon. She anticipated Sonya’s response because she did like Solomon, but also because Sonya always had Michele’s best interest at heart.

  Michele knew that, as much as her girls loved her, misery, indeed, sought company. And her miserable, lonely girlfriends would hardly push for her to do something that might extract her from the miserable and lonely club.

  So, Michele responded.

  “Scared of u?” she wrote back. “I would have 2 care 2 be scared. And I don’t care.”

  Solomon smiled and texted her right back.

  “I’m sorry u don’t care. But I care what u think about me.”

  It was on then.

  “Really? I would never have known,” Michele wrote back, reciting the words as she typed them into her phone.

  Solomon: “I know. But it’s the truth. U know, it’s honorable 2 forgive.”

  Michele: “Yeah, but it’s not mandatory.”

  Solomon: “Ur heart is 2 good 2 not forgive.”

  Michele: “U don’t know my heart. My heart has been toughened up. Thanks to u.”

  Solomon: “I’m sorry, Michele. Let me make it up 2 u.”

  Michele: “U can’t live long enough 2 make it up 2 me.”

  Solomon: “U should let me try. I’m betta than what I showed u. That was a long time ago.”

  Michele: “Seems like yest
erday 2 me.”

  Solomon: “I’m not proud of what I did, Michele. I’m embarrassed. But I want to make it up 2 u. I can—if u give me the chance.”

  Michele: “I don’t know of any reason to give u a chance. I don’t even believe u want a chance. U just feel guilty.”

  Solomon: “I do feel guilty. But that’s not y I want 2 make it up 2 u.”

  He set Michele up to ask him “why.” And she knew it. So she didn’t.

  Michele: “Whatever ur reason, what’s done is done. I have moved on. And I’m sure u have 2. I got over u. I got over being dogged by u. I’m happy with my life w/o u.”

  Solomon was disappointed Michele did not take his bait, but not deterred. He decided he’d stay on task, no matter what her responses were.

  Solomon: “I’ve been happy w/o u 2. But I have not been whole. I felt whole with u, Michele. I did. I didn’t know how 2 handle it. I was young and dumb—and scared. But I’ve grown up. I want 2 be more than happy. I want 2 be whole. U can make me whole.”

  Michele put the TV on mute. Solomon had gotten to her. She had actually told her cousin the exact same thing, using the same words, about how she felt with Solomon. “I can’t say I’ve ever felt whole with a man,” she said to Sonya. “This relationship, this man, makes me feel whole.”

  Of course, that was before Solomon vanished.

  But her feelings for him remained; she could not believe all the emotions he conjured up in her were not real. Michele was an idealist, someone who wanted to believe the best in people. So, even in her borderline depression, she held on to what they shared, if only to believe it was possible.

  When Gerald came along, she was able to focus her attention and throw all her love and time into her little boy. With the father nowhere to be found, she did not get out of sync. She pressed on.

  Michele contemplated so long how to respond to Solomon’s text that he sent her another one. It read:

  “???????”

  She did not know what to write, so she decided to go with the truth. She was tired of playing coy.

  “Solomon, that sounds great. But how do u expect me 2 believe u?”

  “Just let me prove it to u,” he wrote back. “I believe in action over words anyway. But I PROMISE u, I will not let u down. I have seen the light. ”

  Michele: “Very funny.”

  Solomon: “I’m not joking. I just wanted u to smile. I’m very serious about this. I remember everything about our relationship.”

  Michele: “Oh, now it was a relationship? Back then u didn’t want a title. U wouldn’t even say u loved me. Now I’m supposed to believe after all this time that u did?”

  Solomon: “I know how it sounds. But I can’t do anything but tell u the truth now. And here’s another truth: I feel closer to u thru ur son.”

  He struck another nerve with Michele, a very sensitive nerve. She was consumed with little Gerald. She tended to his every need. And he tended to hers without even knowing it. He was her “man” when there was no man around, which was most of the time. She hugged and kissed him not only because she loved him so much, but also because she had so much untapped affection in her.

  But her affection had the potential to make him soft. That’s why she got him into sports. And that’s why she was so excited that “Coach Money” had a positive influence on him.

  “Well,” Michele texted back, “I was glad he had a male figure n his life.”

  Solomon: “What happened 2 his father, if u don’t mind me asking?”

  Michele: “I’d really rather not talk about it right now. Let’s just say he was unwilling to step up to his responsibility. That’s my stock answer. But maybe I’ll give u the details 1 day.”

  Solomon was so happy with that response that he yelled out loud.

  “Yeah!!!!!”

  “One day” meant the future, which meant she expected to be in touch with him. This meant triumph to Solomon.

  “OK,” he typed back. “I wish u would let me coach him some more. He’s a great kid. We talked a lot and I taught him a lot about basketball and life. He was my best player but also the kid I enjoyed the most. You’ve done an excellent job. U should be proud.”

  Michele: “I am proud. He’s the light of my life. That’s why I’m afraid 2 let him get connected 2 u more than he already is. I no u can disappear and not look back.”

  Solomon: “I deserve that. I do. But don’t u know that people grow & learn from their mistakes? Don’t u know that? I’m trying 2 make up for what I did, if that’s possible.”

  Michele: “I don’t no if it’s possible, and I don’t want my son in the middle of it.”

  Solomon: “Before u knew ‘Coach Money’ was me, u said u were glad ‘Coach Money’ had an impact on him. I can still do that— whether u talk to me again or not. As far as this goes, this is not about u or me, really. It’s about Gerald.”

  Michele: “Well, it’s getting late and my fingers r tired. I will think about it.”

  Solomon: “While ur thinking about it, think about meeting me for lunch tomorrow. Please.”

  Michele: “Ur asking 4 a lot. I just saw u yesterday for the first time in 8 years. Don’t u think we both need to back up a little?”

  Solomon: “I will do whatever u say. But when I saw u Saturday, it was like my whole world opened up. I’m grateful to c u again.”

  Michele’s mind and heart were in conflict. She wanted to hurt him for hurting her and, at the same time, she wanted to embrace him for their time together—and the possibilities now that he was back. That he could still matter after eight years spoke to what she felt back when they were together.

  “Damn,” she said aloud.

  She did not know how to respond. Solomon had opened up to her in those text messages more than he had in their six months together. Maybe he had changed, or grown up, she thought. Why not give him the benefit of the doubt? After all, no man before or after him made her feel as he had.

  Her mind told her to stay at a distance. Don’t let him in—at least not too quickly. Bottom line: Solomon was not to be trusted. Maybe people could change, but maybe he had not.

  “I don’t think so,” Michele texted him back. “Maybe another time. I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  Solomon said aloud, “Damn.” He was not surprised by her response, but he hoped it would be different. He knew Michele to be prideful and smart and any woman who was proud and bright would not jump to see him after what he did to her.

  “I understand,” he wrote back. “I hope it’s OK 2 call u tomorrow evening.”

  Michele: “We’ll see, Solomon.”

  CHAPTER 8

  LET THE TRUTH BE TOLD

  Solomon called on all the willpower he had to not call Michele the next day. Overnight he decided the best course of action would be to back off, to let her absorb all that had taken place on Saturday night at the banquet and Sunday at church and via text.

  His boy, Ray, helped him get to that point.

  “You can do what you want—you always do—but to me, you should not try to overwhelm the girl,” Ray said. “Let her gather her thoughts; this is really not just about you. You want what you think you want. But she’s got feelings involved, too. And a son.

  “Look, if it’s going to happen for you and her, it’s going to happen. You can’t make it happen. And out of respect for her, you should let her settle down and not pressure her.”

  Ray was so level-headed and persuasive that Solomon fought himself and did not reach out. Maybe she’d be disappointed that he didn’t, he reasoned. Maybe she’d even call or text him.

  A day went by, then two, and Solomon found himself falling into the mode of a political candidate who had to concede defeat on election night. He called Ray.

  “At this point, I feel like it’s not going to happen,” he said. “I don’t really know how to pursue a woman, anyway. I mean, I do, but I haven’t done a lot of that. Haven’t had to.”

  “Well, maybe that’s the problem,” Ray
said. “You’ve gotten away with so much, including not pursuing women, that now when you want to—when you need to—you actually don’t know how. What’s wrong with that picture? Real talk: I changed my mind. If you want her, you’re going to have to go get her. Clearly, she’s not going to break unless you break her.”

  Ray’s words again influenced Solomon.

  “You know what?” he said to Ray. “This is the hard, cold reality—I want her.”

  “Then you have no dilemma. You understand what has to be done,” Ray said. “And I know how to do it.”

  “Yeah, okay,” Solomon said.

  “I’m serious,” Ray said.

  “How?”

  “Gerald,” Ray answered. “That’s your in.”

  Something sounded underhanded about that—but that’s what also made it so intriguing.

  “Yo, I didn’t know you were that conniving,” Solomon said to his friend. “Is that the right way to go about it, really?”

  “You know why it’s the right way to go about it? Because you already like the kid. You already wanted to help him. You told me that you called him ‘Money’ because he reminded you of you. You connected to the boy. So being a mentor to him is simply doing what you’ve already wanted to do—even before you realized who his mom was.

  “And you also said Michele was happy that a man was influencing her son. She’ll put her feelings aside to help her son. Watch.”

  Solomon nodded his head in agreement. He needed a pep talk to renew his pursuit. Ray delivered.

  “Hello?” Michele answered into her cell phone.

  “Hey. This is Solomon. Solomon Singletary. Remember me?”

  “Can’t say that I do,” she answered. “Refresh my memory.”

  “I’m the guy you should let take your son to the Hawks’ game on Thursday.”

  “Oh, I don’t know about that.” That was her first instinct. Even if Solomon did not have the history he created, Michele would have been guarded about letting Gerald go somewhere without her. With Solomon, she was doubly leery.