Lookin' For Luv
Page 1
Table of Contents
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Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Acknowledgements
Chapter 1 - KEVIN
Chapter 2 - ANTOINE
Chapter 3 - MAURICE
Chapter 4 - KEVIN AND ALICIA
Chapter 5 - TYRONE
Chapter 6 - ANTOINE
Chapter 7 - MAURICE
Chapter 8 - ANTOINE AND SHAWNA
Chapter 9 - TYRONE AND SYLVIA
Chapter 10 - KEVIN
Chapter 11 - KEVIN AND ALICIA
Chapter 12 - ANTOINE AND KEISHA
Chapter 13 - MAURICE
Chapter 14 - KEVIN AND ALICIA
Chapter 15 - KEVIN AND ALICIA
Chapter 16 - TYRONE AND SYLVIA
Chapter 17 - KEVIN AND ALICIA
Chapter 18 - KEVIN AND DENISE
Chapter 19 - MAURICE
Chapter 20 - KEVIN
Chapter 21 - MAURICE
Chapter 22 - KEVIN AND DENISE
Chapter 23 - ANTOINE AND SHAWNA
Chapter 24 - TYRONE AND ALICIA
Chapter 25 - KEVIN AND DENISE
Chapter 26 - ANTOINE AND KEISHA
Chapter 27 - ALICIA
Chapter 28 - DENISE, KEVIN, AND ALICIA
Chapter 29 - MAURICE
Chapter 30 - TYRONE AND SYLYIA
Chapter 31 - SHAWNA AND KEISHA
Chapter 32 - KEVIN, DENISE, AND ALICIA
Chapter 33 - TYRONE AND SYLYIA AND MAURICE
Chapter 34 - KEVIN AND ALICIA
Chapter 35 - TYRONE, SYLVIA, AND MAURICE
Chapter 36 - ANTOINE AND KEISHA
Chapter 37 - ANTOINE AND SHAWNA
Chapter 38 - ANTOINE, TYRONE, AND KEVIN
Chapter 39 - TYRONE AND SYLVIA
Chapter 40 - MAURICE
Chapter 41 - KEVIN
Chapter 42 - DENISE
Chapter 43 - THE REUNION
Epilogue
A READING GROUP GUIDE
DISCUSSION QUESTIONS
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DAFINA BOOKS are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp.
850 Third Avenue
New York, NY 10022
Copyright © 2000 by Carl Weber
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the Publisher and neither the Author nor the Publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”
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Kensington and the K logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.
Dafina and the Dafina logo are trademarks of Kensington Publishing Corp.
First Dafina Trade Paperback Printing: September 2000
First Dafina Mass-market Printing: November 2001
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Printed in the United States of America
This book is dedicated to Martha Weber, who is as much the author as I am. Thank you so much for all the work you’ve done on the book. Words could never describe how much I honestly love and appreciate you. But I guess a new house will so let’s get back to work.
Acknowledgments
First off let me thank God, for answering my prayers and fulfilling my dream of becoming an author. When times were hard and others didn’t think it possible, He alone gave me the strength to continue, and for that I give Him praise.
I can’t thank my friends and family enough for hanging in there with me during the process of writing and getting this book published. It took quite a while but it finally happened.
To Bettie: they say a mother’s love is unconditional. I know yours is. I love you.
To my grandmother, Sarah Weber: thanks for everything Nana, I love you.
To my grandmother Emma Barron: just ’cause you’re in Texas doesn’t mean I forgot you. I love you Emma.
To Harold: thanks for keeping the stores and me together. Since my Pops passed away you’ve been as much a father to me as anyone. I love you for that.
To Bob and Dot: most people are lucky to have one set of parents. I’ve been lucky enough to have two. Thanks. I love you.
Special thanks to my sister Maria, my sister Teresa, brother Kevin, Alisha Cross, Ann Murphy, Crystal Bur-son, Kim, Sharnise Wingate, Brenda Cheese, and Valerie Skinner. You read the book during its infancy and helped mold it into what it is today.
To my partners in crime: Jeff, Walter, Albert, Bryant, Stan, Chip, and Mr. T. Thanks for always being there when I needed you. Oh, by the way, I’ve taken a bit of each one of you for the characters in my next book, Married Men.
To my brothers Terrance and Barron: thanks for being you.
Thanks to my fellow authors who came by the stores and encouraged me to write: Grace Edwards, Shandra Hill, Van Whitfield, Kim Roby, Donna Deberry and Virginia Grant, Denise Davis-Pack and Michael Baisden.
Special thanks to Donna Hill and Robert Flemming. I couldn’t have done it without you guys.
A special high five to Anita Diggs for introducing me to my agent, Marie Brown.
To Marie Brown: thanks for being patient and putting up with my constant phone calls. You were right, of course, the publishing industry moves at its own pace. Well, you’ve done your part. Now it’s time to show you what I can do.
To Kristy Noble-Mills: thanks for a great cover.
Big thanks to that sexy voice over at Kensington, Jessica McLean, for introducing me to my editor, Karen Thomas.
To my girl Karen Thomas: I don’t think I could have ever asked for a better editor. Both professionally and personally thanks for everything. You’re a true friend. Now take some time off and relax, you deserve it.
Special thanks to my brother Jeff for the poem.
Last but not least I’d like to thank all of my customers at the African-American Bookstore. This is the book you’ve all asked for. It’s hot, funny, and has mad drama. I hope you enjoy it.
1
KEVIN
It was almost midnight when Kevin heard the phone ring. Who the hell’s calling at this time of night? he w
ondered. He finished his push-ups. Lifting his dark six-foot frame from the ground, he grabbed a small towel from the back of a chair and wiped the sweat off his face. Sweat glistened against his smooth dark-chocolate skin and trickled down the muscles along his broad shoulders.
“Hello?” his deep voice grumbled into the receiver.
“Kevin, is that you, baby? Lord, don’t tell me I done made a long distance call all the way to New York City and it’s a wrong number,” the voice had a strong but friendly southern accent. Kevin smiled.
“It’s me, Mama,” he answered happily.
Kevin and his mother were very close, even more so since his father died five years earlier. His mother lived in Hopewell, Virginia, where he had spent his entire childhood. She lived with his two sisters, Whitney and Phyllis. He liked to speak to his mother at least once a week to be sure she was doing all right.
“Is everything all right down there, Mama?”
“Everything’s just fine here, baby. But what about you? I expected to get that answerin’ machine of yours on account of it’s Friday night. What’s wrong, boy, you sick?” she prodded as only a mother could.
“Oh, I’m fine, Mama. I was just doin’ some push-ups, that’s all. I was just about ready to take a shower before you called.”
“Push-ups!” She laughed. “Now, Kevin, why you gonna go an’ lie to ya mama like that? I know you like the preacher knows Scripture. You got one of them New York City girls over there, don’t you?” She barely paused to take a breath. “Lawd have mercy, boy, I hope you usin’ them condoms I sent you. As much as I want some more grandchillin’, I want you married first, son. You hear me, Kevin? God knows them fast New York City girls gonna try an’ trap a good-looking boy like you.”
Holding the receiver away from his ear as his mother’s voice increased in volume, Kevin sighed heavily before interrupting. “Mama. Mama, stop,” he pleaded as she finally paused for a breath. “I don’t have a girl over here. Things are a lot different up here. Oh, and, Mama, how many times I gotta tell you? I don’t live in New York City. I live in Queens. And in Queens I’m just another guy.”
Mama exhaled loudly. Her voice was calm but full of intensity. “Just you wait one damn minute, Mr. Kevin Raymond Brown. I didn’t go through seventy-two hours of labor to have just another guy. You been special since the day you was born, son. Your problem is that you think havin’ a bunch of gold-diggin’ tramps chase after you makes you special. Well, I got news for you—it doesn’t.” She paused, but not long enough for Kevin to respond. “What you really need is to find yourself a nice church-goin’ girl and settle down. But don’t you worry, son, Mama’s gonna get the whole church to pray on it.”
Kevin cringed as he heard his mother mention her church. Mama had always been a strongly religious person, and while Kevin respected her for her faith, he didn’t necessarily want all the good people of Hopewell Baptist Church knowing about his dating problems.
“Mama, do you really think gettin’ the church to pray for me is somethin’ you wanna do?” Kevin asked, imagining his mother standing in front of the whole congregation saying “Would you please bow your heads and pray for my poor, lonely son to meet a real churchgoin’ girl?”
He could practically hear the chorus of amens that would follow her request and was sure Old Miss Williams would offer to send her homely daughter up to New York. The thought made Kevin’s temples throb, so he quickly changed the subject
“Mama, why you callin’ me at this time of night anyway? You know I call you every Sunday when the rates are lowest.”
There was a pause before she answered, still lost in her thoughts of matchmaking. “Lord have mercy, why did I call you? Oh, yeah, the coach from that Italian basketball team called here today. He wanted me to give him your phone number. But I told him I’d have to call you and see.”
Kevin released a long, sad sigh at the mention of basketball. Since moving to New York, he had done everything in his power to forget the sport entirely. Basketball had been the center of Kevin’s universe from the time he was old enough to tie his first pair of high-tops. He spent four years at Virginia State University, where he was captain of the team and the top scorer, leading his team to a NCAA Division II Championship. Becoming a professional basketball player had been his only goal after graduation, and he seemed well on his way to achieving that dream when the Charlotte Hornets offered him a chance to try out as a walk-on.
Kevin spent a month in Charlotte trying out, and his performance was strong. After practice one day he had a particularly encouraging conversation with a Hornets coach, who told Kevin he was a shoe-in to make the team. Still a little immature, and feeling triumphant from the good news, he skipped curfew and spent the night partying at a University of North Carolina frat house. During the party he hooked up with a particularly wild group of his frat brothers, who convinced him to go into a private room to share a joint with them. Normally Kevin treated his body like a temple, staying away from drugs of any kind But this night was different. He felt like his life had just begun, and in his jubilance he threw all caution to the wind and got high.
That joint turned out to be the destruction of Kevin’s dream. Three days later he discovered that before he could officially be signed to a contract, he had to take a drug test. He seriously considered packing his bags right then and there but decided he couldn’t give up that easily. In a panic he resorted to drinking gallons of goldenseal tea, which was rumored to mask marijuana in a drug test, and spent many hours praying for a miracle. When the test results showed evidence of drug use, Kevin was denied a contract and returned home to Hopewell empty-handed.
Back in his hometown he tried to hold his head high and find a new direction for his life as a physical education teacher. He began teaching “phys ed” in the small rural school, but the town’s residents had viewed Kevin as their own hero, and now looked on him with pity. When a local radio station called to ask him for an interview about his fall from grace, it was the final blow. Kevin quickly decided to move as far away from Hopewell as possible. With the encouragement of his church pastor he completed the necessary paperwork to have his credentials transferred to New York and took the first job he was offered. He packed his bags, drove his Toyota Celica to Queens, and vowed to forget he had ever wanted to play basketball.
Now Mama’s phone call was threatening to stir up painful memories for him.
“Aw‘ight, Mama, you can give him my number,” he told her sadly. “That way I can tell ’em that I’m not interested.”
“If that’s what you want, baby.” She wished her son would reconsider and decided to try one more time to change his mind. “Son, all your daddy’s life he wanted to be a train engineer, and he knew those trains good too. But them white folks wouldn’t even let him try on account ’a he was colored. So he ended up becoming a repairman just to be close to those trains, hoping one day he’d get his chance. Well, when that chance never came, he died more of a broken heart than he did from the alcohol. If you really love basketball like I believe you do, I think you should go to Europe and show the NBA they made a big mistake. Baby, this is your chance.”
“I ‘preciate what you’re tryin’ ta say, Mama, but this is my life, and I have to live it.” There was true love and affection in his voice. “Basketball’s just not an option for me anymore.”
“Aw’ight baby, if that’s how you feel, Mama’s gonna leave it alone. Now let me get off this here phone. I love you, baby.”
“I love you too, Mama. I’ll call you Sunday.”
Kevin hung up and picked up his to-do list. He scribbled down Send Mama some flowers. Then, trying to relieve the stress that his basketball memories had stirred up, he went back to his push-ups, working his powerful dark arms until they began to ache. Satisfied with his workout, he peeled off his tank top, wrapped his towel around his neck, and sauntered into the bathroom. The towel dropped to the floor and Kevin slid his tight Calvin Klein underwear down his muscular legs. The cold air
hit his naked body and he shivered.
“Damn, it’s late,” he said aloud as he took off his watch. Frustrated, he turned the water on and stepped into the warm spray. The soothing warmth soon turned scalding hot. “God damn you, Monty,” he cursed, glaring at the ceiling and wishing his landlord would separate the plumbing. “Every time your fat ass flushes, my cold water shuts off. It’s almost like you know when I get into the shower so you run to the john to flush.” Disgusted, Kevin shut off the shower and stepped out. He shivered as the cold air hit him, wondering if Monty realized it was fall, time to turn on the heat. Grabbing a plush towel, he paused. His eyes closed and his shoulders hunched. As was happening more often lately, the pressure of being an unsuccessful black man fell upon him.
Look at my life, he thought, staring at the dingy walls. Barely a year ago I was bragging about this great NBA career I was going to have. Now I’m blacklisted from the league and I’m too embarrassed to show up at homecoming.
Wrapping the towel around his hips, Kevin walked into his bedroom and searched for a pair of boxer shorts to put on. His bedroom was small. Assorted boxes of clothes filled much of the space, holding most of his extensive dasigner wardrobe. Although living from paycheck to paycheck, Kevin took enormous pride in his appearance. He chose to spend his money on clothes rather than a dresser to keep them in. Digging through a box, he finally found a pair of silk boxers.
Kevin sat and watched the Playboy Channel for about fifteen minutes. He was not really interested in naked women playing volleyball, so he checked his TV Guide to see what was playing on BET. He grinned when he saw they were running School Daze. A good Spike Lee movie could always take his mind off his problems, even if only for a while. Scanning the channels, he arrived at BET just as his favorite Chris Rock 1-800-COLLECT commercial was ending.