Trouble With Tonya

by Lorna Michaels

  So work was good. And after working hours...

  She and Kirk spent every night together, at his place or hers, sharing, laughing, making love. She’d begun to have hopes for the future, for something permanent between them.

  “Stop daydreaming,” she ordered herself. This afternoon she had work to finish. Tonight she and Kirk were—

  Noises in the hallway caught her attention. Something was wrong.

  She jumped up and ran out. Several of the staff crowded around someone she couldn’t see. Tonya pushed through the group...and saw Ladonna leaning against the wall. Her blouse was ripped, one shoe and an earring were missing. Her hair was disheveled.

  “What happened?” Tonya cried.

  “Rick Henderson got hold of her,” someone answered.

  “She’s damn lucky he didn’t shoot her full of holes,” commented another staff member, and Tonya cringed.

  Ramon elbowed his way through the crowd. “Give her some space,” he ordered. “Tell me about it,” he said to Ladonna.

  She let out a shaky breath. “I was walkin’ back from lunch. All of a sudden someone grabbed me from behind. Yanked me by the hair,” she said, trying to pat her hair into place. “I got a couple of kicks in, but then I saw who it was and I figured, Don’t fight him, Ladonna, or you could end up on a slab.” She shivered and hugged herself.

  “Somebody get her a chair,” Ramon ordered, and Corelle dragged a child-sized chair out of the day-care room.

  Ladonna sat down heavily. “He told me he didn’t want Janene comin’ over here, and if we didn’t stop nosing around in her business and his, he was gonna come after us. I believe it, too. He wasn’t playing around. That threat’s for real.” She glanced at Kirk, who had just appeared. “You better call the police.”

  “I will,” Kirk said, “right now. Meanwhile, all of you take this seriously. I don’t want anyone out alone in the neighborhood, hear?”

  The group scattered, some of the women glancing nervously over their shoulders as if expecting Rick and the Sabers to leap out of a closet.

  “You did hear that, didn’t you?” Kirk murmured as he passed Tonya.

  She heard and heeded his warning. After all, the idea of meeting Rick or his cronies face-to-face was not appealing. Complying with Kirk’s directive was easy. They came to work together and went home together, so she didn’t even have to go back and forth to the parking lot alone. And she rarely had time to go out for lunch. Inside the walls of the OK Center, she felt safe.

  And outside, a police officer kept watch...at first.

  The rest of the staff were careful, too...at first.

  But as time passed and Rick didn’t make good on his threats, everyone relaxed. Staff members began frequenting the neighborhood cafés again, began exiting the center singly instead of in pairs or groups.

  Within a couple of weeks, everything was back to normal.

  TONYA FELT NO NEED for protection on the day of Germain’s conference. She didn’t even bother telling Kirk where she was going. She backed the truck out of the parking lot and, humming to herself, drove to Franklin D. Roosevelt Middle School. She glanced at her watch as she hurried into the office. Late, as usual.

  The conference table was crowded. Karen Monroe sat at one end, Mrs. Parker, dressed up this afternoon in a pink rayon dress that had seen better days, sat at the other, cracking a wad of chewing gum. To provide support, Tonya took a chair beside Mrs. Parker.

  The door opened, and a woman—the diagnostician, Tonya supposed—came in with Germain. He stopped at the doorway, hunched his shoulders and glanced furtively around the table. His eyes met Tonya’s, and he shuffled over and took the empty seat on her other side. She gave him an encouraging nod, but he barely looked at her. He stared at his hands, which were clenched in his lap.

  “Now that we’re all here—” Karen began the meeting by introducing everyone—Germain’s homeroom teacher, his language arts teacher, the diagnostician, the counselor, the speech clinician and Dr. Goldsmith. Tonya hoped Mrs. Parker was as impressed as she was by the number of people assembled to discuss one young boy.

  The diagnostician explained the test results. Although she spoke directly to Mrs. Parker, the woman seemed uninterested. Tonya supposed Germain had come by his problem legitimately; his mother didn’t attend any better than he did. Instead, she studied an obscenely long pink fingernail as if nothing happening in the room had any relation to her. Tonya was tempted to kick her under the table.

  Germain shot a sidelong glance at his mother, then looked away. Tonya sensed the tension vibrating from the youngster. His jaw tightened, he clenched and unclenched his hands under the table. Finally, apparently unable to endure his mother’s indifference, he leaned across Tonya. “Mama, you listening?” His stage whisper had every head turning toward him.

  Every head except his mother’s.

  Tonya couldn’t contain her disgust with Mrs. Parker a moment longer. “Are you listening?” she repeated, her angry whisper louder than Germain’s.

  Mrs. Parker cracked her gum. “I’m listening. What else you think I come for?”

  Tonya tried to give Mrs. Parker the benefit of the doubt Maybe the woman was overwhelmed by all the information. Maybe she simply didn’t understand.

  The diagnostician completed her report and added, “We recommended a consultation with Dr. Goldsmith to further investigate the possibility of an attention deficit disorder.”

  The psychiatrist was a tall, spare man with graying hair and a face that Tonya would call weathered. What she liked best was his calm, matter-of-fact manner. “My examination confirmed an attention deficit disorder with hyperactivity,” he said, and proceeded to explain the condition in laymen’s terms, much as Karen had explained it to Tonya.

  “People with ADHD,” he said, “are chronic daydreamers.”

  Germain turned to Tonya and whispered, softly this time, “That’s me.”

  Tonya glanced at Mrs. Parker. Did she get it?

  Tonya knew she did. She’d been a daydreamer all her life. She guessed she’d spent enough hours staring out the window to term her woolgathering “chronic.”

  “They don’t stay with one topic or one task very long,” Dr. Goldsmith continued. “They have so much energy, they even have trouble staying in one place. Germain, does that sound like you?”

  The boy ducked his head. “Yeah,” he muttered.

  Me, too, Tonya thought. During her school days she’d always had trouble staying in her seat. In her working life, she’d flitted from one job to another like the proverbial grasshopper, and she had the résumé to prove it.

  “They get distracted by noise, by movement, even by their own thoughts,” the doctor said. “Someone walks by in the hall outside the classroom, and there goes the math assignment.”

  “Yeah.” This time Germain smiled.

  Tonya smiled, too. Dr. Goldsmith could be describing her instead of Germain. In fact—

  “People with ADHD are impulsive. They blurt out things without thinking, do things without thinking.”

  Just as she’d done a few minutes earlier when she’d snarled at Germain’s mother, Tonya thought Just as she’d done all her life.

  Her heart began to pound. Dr. Goldsmith was describing her. She had all the symptoms, all the behaviors—damn it, all the problems of ADHD—and had ever since she could remember.

  Maybe she wasn’t the family flake. Maybe she had a reason, a good one. She bit her lip to keep from shouting out, “Is this me? Am I ADHD, too?”

  The voices around her faded while she tried to quiet the voices in her head—the fear, the excitement

  Only when Dr. Goldsmith suggested that Germain start medication on a trial basis did Tonya again focus on the discussion. Mrs. Parker suddenly woke up, too. “How much it gonna cost for this medicine?”

  “I’m sure it will be covered by Medicaid,” Karen said.

  “Better be or he don’t get none.”

  “If not, perhaps we can investiga
te other funding,” Karen said.

  Even though her hands shook from her inner turmoil, Tonya made a note to talk to the Brewster Foundation about setting up a fund to underwrite such treatment

  “I’ll write a prescription for Germain,” Dr. Goldsmith said. “All right?”

  Mrs. Parker, who had returned to contemplating her nails, managed a “Yeah” around her gum.

  The remainder of the meeting was spent setting up an educational plan to help Germain catch up academically and develop self-management skills.

  As soon as they adjourned, Tonya caught up with Dr. Goldsmith in the hall. She swallowed the lump in her throat. Over the din of students changing classes, she said, “May I ask you a question?”

  “Certainly.”

  It was the most important question she’d ever asked. Heart slamming against her ribs, she said, “Can an adult have ADHD?”

  “Yes, indeed.”

  The noise level in the hall increased. A tall boy in a baseball cap nearly knocked her over as he barreled past Tonya barely noticed. “Do...do you see adults in your practice?”

  “I do.”

  “Then,” she said, feeling as if she were diving off the high board, “I’d like to make an appointment. When I listened to you in the conference, I felt like my life suddenly made sense.”

  The doctor smiled. “I’d be happy to see you, Ms. Brewster. When adults with ADHD hear it described, it’s often an ‘aha’ experience.” He fished in his pocket and handed her a card. “Call my office.”

  “I’ll do that.” She waved as he strode out of the building, then glanced around her. Here she stood, in the hallway of a grungy school in inner-city Houston, and maybe, just maybe, she’d found answers to questions she’d always had. Until now, she hadn’t known where to find the answers. Fate, in the person of her grandfather, had sent her where she needed to go. Amazing.

  She should call her granddad and tell him her suspicions about having ADHD, but first she’d talk to Kirk. She could hardly wait to tell him what she’d learned today. She’d shared a little of her lifelong frustration with him, but she hadn’t told him everything. Now she wanted to confide the rest

  But first—

  Thanking the Lord that someone had seen fit to invent the cellular phone, she extracted hers from under the seat of the pickup and punched in the number of Dr. Goldsmith’s office. This call couldn’t wait

  “He can see you next Monday at ten,” the receptionist told her.

  Hallelujah Tonya didn’t even bother to write down the time. This was one appointment she wouldn’t forget.

  And now, she thought as she pulled into the lot at the center, to find Kirk.

  Luckily, she saw him immediately, talking to Ladonna outside the building. In fact, everyone was outside the building. Why?

  Then she noticed the police car parked in front. She jumped out of the truck and ran to Kirk, calling his name.

  He turned toward her, his face like a thundercloud. If his eyes could shoot lightning bolts, she’d be dead right now.

  “Wha—” she began, then her voice trailed off as he took a step toward her.

  “We’ve been looking all over for you,” he growled. “Where in hell have you been?”

  This was what he was angry about? That she’d gone out without informing him? The heck with that! “I went to a meeting. I didn’t know I needed your permission,” she snapped, and tried to step past him. She’d ask Ramon what was going on.

  She should have known better. Kirk’s hand shot out and closed around her arm.

  Swearing she wouldn’t let him bully her, Tonya stood still in his grasp. “What is this,” she demanded, “a police state?”

  “Coming damn dose,” he muttered. “Rick found out the idea for Janene leaving town came from here, and he’s mad as hell. We had a call thirty minutes ago. The Sabers are threatening to blow up the place.”

  14

  TONYA SWALLOWED. “Oh,” she managed to say. “The police—”

  “The bomb squad’s inside now.”

  “Have they...have they found the bomb?”

  Kirk let out a tired sigh. “They haven’t found anything.” He pulled her around the corner of the building to a quiet spot “When Rick surfaced again, I told the staff that no one was to go out alone. Did you forget?”

  Tonya jerked her arm from his grasp. “No, but—”

  “But what?” Kirk glared at her, arms folded across his chest. “Do you think because you’re from the Brewster Foundation that you’re above it all? That you don’t have to abide by the rules here?”

  “I—”

  “Lady, you may hold the purse strings, but I’m in charge here and when you’re on my turf, you do what I say.” His voice, his stance, everything about him radiated anger.

  He was mad? He hadn’t seen “mad.”

  Tonya jabbed her finger into his chest. “Now, you listen to me. Number one—I went to Germain’s school for a meeting that’s been on the schedule for almost a month. All you had to do was look at the appointment book in Ramon’s office. Number two—when I left, I knew nothing about another threat. It’s been calm around here lately. Everyone’s been going out alone. I’m no different from the rest of your staff.”

  “You are different.”

  “How?” She planted her hands on her hips and waited for his answer.

  “The staff come from this neighborhood. They know their way around, know who to watch out for. You don’t—”

  “Belong here,” she finished for him. She waited for him to deny it, but he stayed silent. That hurt. Badly. Tears stung her eyes. “I thought we’d gotten past that,” she said tiredly. “I thought I’d proved myself. I guess not” She turned and walked away.

  Kirk watched her go. Damn it, he’d almost had a heart attack when they hadn’t been able to find her. He’d had all kinds of visions of what might have happened to her, everything from being held hostage by the Sabers to a thousand times worse.

  And how had he handled it? Shot off his mouth the minute he’d seen her. Done just what she’d accused him of once before—acted like a damn Neanderthal.

  He stuffed his hands in his pockets to hide the shaking and headed back to the front yard. There she was, in the midst of a group of pregnant girls, her arm around one of them. This was not the time to talk to her.

  He’d try to explain to her later when they had some privacy. He wondered if she’d understand that he’d been more frightened than angry. He’d probably have to yell at her to convince her. The woman roused his temper almost as much as she stirred his passion.

  The police officer who was in charge of the bomb squad appeared in the doorway and motioned to him. Kirk crossed the yard. “Found anything?”

  “Nothing. Place is clean. You can send your folks back in now.”

  Kirk let out a breath of relief, then turned to relate the news to the anxious group on the lawn. As they trooped in, he searched for Tonya, then saw her hurrying around the building toward the back entrance. Avoiding him. He could hardly blame her.

  Before he had a chance to go after her, Ramon caught up with him and center business claimed him.

  HALF AN HOUR LATER, Tonya was still upset If she were a drinker, this would be the time for a drink. She wasn’t, but she needed something to calm her down. Hot chocolate was her tranquilizer of choice, but it wasn’t available here. She’d have to settle for tea.

  She found Ladonna at the kitchen table, sipping coffee.

  “Hi,” Tonya said.

  “Girlfriend, you don’t look so good,” Ladonna observed. “Kirk get to you?”

  Tonya dumped a tea bag in hot water. “Yeah.”

  “You musta done the same to him. He doesn’t look so good, either.”

  “Really?” Tonya stirred an extra spoonful of sugar into her tea. Anger always inspired a craving for sweets. “I’d expect him to be strutting around like a rooster. He put the outsider in her place.”

  Ladonna put a hand over Tonya’s. “Girl,
believe me. Whatever you two talked about, he’s torn up about it You know he’s crazy about you.”

  “He picked an interesting way to show it. And, no, I don’t know. He’s...he’s never said anything.”

  “Men,” Ladonna snorted. “Their tongues are tangled up in knots. They never say what we need to hear.”

  “I’ll drink to that.” Tonya took a swallow of tea, burned her tongue and nearly dropped her cup.

  “Kirk’s all mixed up over you,” Ladonna said, her lips quirking. Then her smile faded. “He’s got reasons for bein’ in such a tizzy. He ever tell you about Amelia?”

  “No. Who was she...or is she?”

  “She was somebody who was important to him at one time. You ask him about her. Then maybe you’ll understand him better.” She stood and pushed in her chair. “I gotta get back to work.” She started out of the kitchen, then paused. “You’ve been doin’ a good job here. Don’t let Mr. Butler be telling you different.”

  Tonya smiled after Ladonna. She appreciated getting a few strokes for what she’d done. But what had the other woman meant about Kirk’s having his reasons for the way he’d acted earlier? And who was Amelia? An ex-wife? No, to her knowledge, Kirk had never been married. An exlover, she guessed. Did she really want to hear about the women in Kirk’s life?

  Yes.

  She took her mug to the sink, washed it and headed for Kirk’s door. It was open. She could see him hunched over his computer. He quit typing, ran a hand through his hair, then returned to the keyboard.

  Without knocking, Tonya walked in and shut the door behind her. Kirk looked up and his expression turned wary. Good, she thought. His turn to feel the bite of nerves. “I want to talk to you,” she said, and pulled a chair up to his desk. “I have some questions.”