The youth ranged from fourteen to seventeen and gave Marcel the once-over from head to toe.
“Uh, yo there, Mr. B, that there your lady?” The question was from a boy named Jamal who nodded at Caitlyn.
You’re damn straight she’s my lady, Marcel thought. “Ms. Thompson and I are business associates, and she said you guys could use—”
“Yeah, yeah, we done heard that before.” The curt outburst was from a girl who sat on the back row.
During the rounds of high-fives and sarcastic laughter, Caitlyn walked between the chairs and looked directly at the one who’d made the comment.
“What’s your name?”
The slim girl looked around mockingly as if she didn’t understand the question.
Caitlyn stared at the light-skinned youth who’d challenged her. “Answer the question.”
“Chanta,” she replied flippantly. She was new to the center, and it was her first meeting.
“You got a job?” Caitlyn folded her arms across her chest.
Chanta stood with her hands on her hips and rolled her head. “What’s it to you?”
Caitlyn released a half chuckle. “Oh, that means you don’t have a job, huh?”
The others giggled, and Chanta was at a loss for words. Before she could reply, the boy who spoke first blurted the answer. “Naw, she ain’t got no job.”
“Jamal, be quiet.” Caitlyn looked again at Chanta. “You depend on your man?”
Chanta snorted. “Don’t need no man to take care of me. That’s what the system’s for.”
Caitlyn moved to a nearby table. “I’m going show you how to stop depending on the system.”
“Listen up—” Chanta waved her arm around to indicate that she spoke on everyone’s behalf. “Give us a break with the sweet talk.”
Caitlyn gazed intently at the entire group. “The system has pimped all of you.” The group stared back with astonished expressions. “The system exploits your trifling behinds because you don’t want to learn. Take a real close look at yourselves.”
“Dang,” Jamal whispered. The room fell quiet, and he looked over at Marcel for some backup. Marcel just gave him a confident smile and shrugged.
Chanta spoke again. “What you know about the system?”
“Excuse me?” Caitlyn planted her feet on the floor.
“You heard me. What you know about the system?” Chanta moved closer to Caitlyn.
Caitlyn looked up at Chanta. “I know what it’s like to depend on the system. Had to depend on it for thirteen years myself. I know what it’s like to have people think you’re stupid and can’t learn. They turn their noses up at you and treat you like you’re trash.” She started to walk off, but pivoted around with her eyes narrowed. “Cut me some slack about staying in the system, and let’s figure out how you’re going to make it out the hellhole you’re in.”
Chanta’s tone was low, apologetic. “So what we got to do?”
“Tell me what you know how to do.” Caitlyn patiently waited for an answer.
Jamal snorted. “They say we ain’t good at doing nothing.”
Caitlyn’s voice held an indignant tone. “Who is ‘they’? I know you can do something.”
Silence.
Caitlyn focused her gaze on Chanta. “You look smart to me. Bet you’re running the books for your man’s money.”
Chanta cocked her head sideways and slowly nodded as she grinned. “Down to the last penny.”
Caitlyn fought back the twinge forming at the corners of her mouth. “You got the heads-up on his inventory, know what walks out the door, and I bet you know who owes him, right?”
“Yeah, something like that.”
“Well then, sister-girl, in the business world, that’s called inventory control, accounting and money management all wrapped up in one.”
At the end of the session, Marcel walked up to Caitlyn and whispered next to her ear. “Cat eyes, you aren’t a kitten, you’re a tiger.”
Caitlyn thought about Cole and shook her head at the statement. Tigers fought their predators; they didn’t run from one end of the country to the other to get away from them. She noticed that Marcel had fished his car keys from his pants pocket. “Are you leaving?”
Marcel nodded. “I’m going to hang out with Jamal for a little while and talk with him.” He glanced at his watch. “How about lunch at Kincaid’s in an hour?”
Caitlyn smiled. “See you then.”
Once she was alone, Caitlyn neatly stacked the chairs against the wall and never once regretted sharing the hardship of her childhood with the group. She’d done it primarily for Chanta’s benefit and prayed something she’d said would help the girl.
She was headed to her office to catch up on some paperwork when Chanta appeared from a side room.
“Uh, Caitlyn…I mean Ms. Thompson, can I ask you something?”
Caitlyn nodded and patted the girl’s shoulder. “Feel free to call me Caitlyn.”
Chanta offered a soft smile. “I was thinking about what you said today, you know, about us being able to make something of ourselves.”
“I meant every word. You can do it. You all can do it.”
“You know, I’ve always dreamed of being a nurse.”
Caitlyn could hardly contain her excitement. “What’s stopping you?”
Chanta shrugged. “I don’t know. Just ain’t had nobody to talk to about it. I don’t know nobody who’s a nurse who could tell me what it’s like.” She lifted her round face to look at Caitlyn. “Know what I mean?”
“I know exactly what you mean.” Caitlyn’s eyes lit up. “Listen, if you’re really serious about this, I think I can put you in touch with someone. Perhaps she could serve as a mentor.” She saw the glow that brightened Chanta’s face.
“You really mean it? I mean, you think she could talk with me?”
“My word on it.”
Chanta hugged Caitlyn. “You know I’ve been making good grades lately.”
“That’s good.” Caitlyn stared at the floor as a thought ran through her head. “Do you have a copy of your last report card?”
Chanta eagerly nodded.
“Okay. I want to see it. Can you remember to bring it to me next week when you come?”
“Yes!” Chanta’s voice was filled with excitement.
“Good.” Caitlyn reached out and drew Chanta into her embrace, which was equally reciprocated.
Chanta’s voice was a mere whisper. “Ms. Thompson, I mean, Caitlyn, thank you.”
Caitlyn pulled back and looked into doe-brown eyes sparkling with tears, but filled with hope. “You are going to make it, you hear me?”
“I hear you.”
* * *
Leaning back in his chair after their lunch at Kincaid’s, Marcel pushed his plate aside and watched Caitlyn with a look of total satisfaction.
“How many more sugars are you going to put in that cup of tea, kitten?”
“Huh?” Caitlyn was so engrossed in her thoughts, Marcel’s question hadn’t registered.
“I said…” He waved six empty sugar packets in front of him. “How many more sugars are you going to put in your tea?”
“Oops.”
“That’s okay.” He tossed her a wink. “Just so you know, I think you’re sweet enough.”
She winked back. “Oh, really?”
“Yeah, really. So, lady, what’s going on up in that pretty head of yours?”
With a gleam in her eye, Caitlyn propped her elbows on the table. “Marcel, I’m going to write another proposal to get some funding for mentors, you know, to regularly work with the kids at the center.”
“Okay. But what brought this on?”
Caitlyn shared the exchange she’d had with Chanta. To her surprise, Marcel told her about a similar dialogue he’d had with Jamal after they left the center. Jamal confided to him that he wanted to be a doctor and had maintained excellent grades in math and science.
“All right. Just tell me what you need, and it�
�s done.”
“No.”
His brow hitched. “No?”
“Baby, I didn’t bring it up for you to fund it. Besides, you’ve already done so much for us as it is.”
“I want to help. Is that such a crime?”
“It’s not a crime, but I just don’t want you to feel obligated to do something that ordinarily you wouldn’t do, that’s all.”
A muscle twitched in Marcel’s jaw. “Dammit, Caitlyn, why is it so difficult for you to believe that I truly want to help out?” He shook his head and raised his voice an octave. “Oh, I get it. You think I’m pimping the cause. Is that it?”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“That’s not true, and you know it.”
“Then tell me, Caitlyn, what is true here?”
Caitlyn let out a harsh sigh. She couldn’t believe they were having this conversation in a public restaurant of all places. Through clenched teeth, she whispered, “Why do you always feel the need to be the savior of the world and pay for everything?” She regretted the reference the moment she said it. “I’m sorry. That was a cheap shot.”
“You got that right.” Marcel shifted in his seat and glared at her.
They both fell silent after realizing their conversation had attracted the attention of more than one table.
Caitlyn blew out a hard breath and softened her tone. “Listen, I didn’t mean to imply that you weren’t sincere or that you had an ulterior motive. It’s just that—”
“Just what?”
“I-I just don’t want to feel obligated to you for anything. That’s all.”
“It’s not about you, Caitlyn.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that my wanting to help has nothing to do with you. This is about the youth center and the kids. Not you.” He reached in his back pocket for his wallet, pulled out several bills, and threw them on the table. “Perhaps you’re the one who lied to me.”
She gasped in disbelief. “What?”
“You told me you trusted me, remember?” The muscles in his jaw twitched. “I’m not Cole and I would never intentionally hurt you.”
Caitlyn blew out a hard breath. It was a long time before she said anything. She stared at the table when she finally did. “You’re right.”
“About what?”
“Everything you said. You’re right.” She chuckled and shook her head. “I did it again, didn’t I?”
“What?”
“I allowed the past to come between us. I don’t want you to think that I don’t appreciate your offer because I truly do. It’s just that…”
“I’m listening.”
“I just don’t want you to think I’d do or say anything to get inside your wallet. That’s not what I’m about. My interest is in the man, not the man’s money.”
Marcel didn’t have a comeback for that one. Other women would have jumped at the chance to latch on to his wallet. Not Caitlyn. Every day he was discovering not only was she different, she was rare, like a precious jewel, and he planned on treasuring her for many years to come.
“I don’t think that.” Reaching across the table, he enfolded her hand in his. I’m sorry I jumped to the wrong conclusion, and I didn’t mean to yell at you.”
“Well, as far as making mistakes goes, the score is two to zero in my favor, so you deserve a point. Accept my apology?”
He smiled and caressed the back of her hand. “Yes. Accept mine?”
“Yes.”
He tightened his hand around hers. “I want to tell you something.”
“Okay.”
He kept his gaze focused on the table. “I’ve never shared it with anyone.”
“Is everything all right?”
He nodded. “It’s something I’ve wanted to do for a long time.”
“What?”
“Start a philanthropy foundation at BF Automotive.”
For a moment, Caitlyn stared, but was inwardly pleased at his willingness to share with others. Her eyes sparkled with excitement. “Really? Oh, baby, that’s wonderful.”
“Would you be willing to work for it?”
When she gave him a puzzled stare, he clarified his question. “Would you be willing to work in exchange for me funding your mentors?”
“How? What kind of work?”
“Didn’t you tell me you used to work in corporate philanthropy?”
“Yes. I was the CEO of a large foundation.”
“CEO, huh?” He grinned. “So, you could set up the foundation without thinking about it, right?”
“With my eyes closed.”
He nodded. “Okay, here’s the deal. You do whatever it takes to set up the foundation. In exchange for your work, I’ll provide the funding for the mentors. Fair enough?”
“Oh, Marcel…”
He extended his hand for a shake to seal their agreement. “Well, do we have deal?”
She accepted the gesture. “We have a deal.” Before she released his hand, she whispered softly, “Marcel?”
“Yeah, kitten?”
“You just gave me a piece of your heart, didn’t you?”
“No. I gave you all of it.”
* * *
“Come on, Vic. Tell me the last time I asked you for a favor.”
Vic lightly tapped her index finger against the right side of her temple and looked across the table at Caitlyn. “The answer is still no.”
“Vic, come on,” Caitlyn pleaded. She knew Vic had recently quit her job as a top-level nursing administrator, and since she hadn’t started a new position, she hoped to convince her to volunteer a few hours a week at the center.
“Hell, Caitlyn, I quit because I got tired of working with a group of dickheads who didn’t know jack. Now you want me to work with a bunch of knuckleheads who think they know everything.”
Caitlyn sighed because Vic had a valid point. She tried a different tactic. “But working at the center would help you get your mind off your breakup with Ron.”
“Child, thinking about Ron only gives me a headache. Working with teenagers would give me a stroke.”
Caitlyn laughed. “I really need your help. Pleasssse? Besides, sharing your experience as a nurse would really help Chanta.”
Vic’s eyes narrowed. “Who’s Chanta?”
Caitlyn smiled. “A teenage version of you.”
“Oh, hell no! I can’t stand me sometimes, and you want me to work with someone like me with raging hormones?” Vic shook her head again. “Uh-uh. No way.”
“Victoria Louise Bennett…”
Vic grinned. “You know I can’t stand it when you beg. So before I say yes, what day?”
“Saturdays.”
“Saturdays?”
“Yes.”
“What time?”
“Nine.”
Vic grimaced. “In the morning, nine?”
Caitlyn sighed. “Yes, Vic.”
Vic cut her light brown eyes at Caitlyn. “All right. Just be sure to have my Tylenol handy. Extra strength at that.”
* * *
“Come on, petit frère, I need your help on this one,” Marcel pleaded for the umpteenth time.
A.J. shook his head the entire time Marcel begged, his shoulder-length ponytail swishing along the top of his broad shoulders. The easygoing pediatrician had resigned a coveted position as chief of pediatrics at Children’s Hospital two years ago and was in the process of opening a family health center in East Oakland. The change allowed him more time raising his adopted twin daughters, Taylor and Tyler.
Marcel frowned. “No?”
“That’s right. No. You never call me little brother, especially in French, unless you want something.”
“Why won’t you help out?”
“Who’s going to watch the girls on Saturday mornings?”
“If I told you I’d take care of it, would you say yes?”
A.J. smiled. “Day and time?”
“Saturday mornings at nine.”
“You’re interfering with my Friday nights.”
“No, I’m not. Now if you were Ray, then I’d have to say you were right. Besides, you haven’t been out on a date in two years.”
Raphael, their youngest brother who answered to Ray, was a world-renowned jazz musician who made Casanova seem like a monk.
A.J.’s double dimples peeked through when he smiled. “Keeping up with my love life?”
Marcel smiled back. “Hell, it’s been three years since I’ve dated, so I’ve got you beat by a year.”
Chapter 9
Sprawled across the couch with a pillow over her head and a blanket tucked to her chin, Caitlyn was tempted to remain there, but the insistent banging at her door and the question, “Kitten, you in there?” from the other side made her abandon the thought.
“Hi, baby. What’s wrong?” Marcel didn’t try to conceal the anxiety in his voice when she finally opened the door.
Clutching her stomach, she winced and waved him in. “Bad cramps.”
Marcel closed the door with concern etched on his face. “I was worried about you. I didn’t know if something happened or what. I called the center, and they said you’d phoned in sick. I’ve been trying to reach you here all morning and didn’t get an answer.”
Caitlyn slowly moved toward the couch. “I turned the ringer down. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.” She clutched her stomach with one hand and rubbed at her lower back with the other.
He sat beside her. “Is it like this every month?”
“No. I’m really irregular. But when it does decide to show up,” she rolled her eyes, “it comes with a vengeance.” She lowered her lashes. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry about what?”
“I look like crap.” She tried to straighten her Capri pants and T-shirt. “Plus, I’m embarrassed.”
He shrugged. “You look fine to me. But why are you embarrassed?” Then the answer dawned on him. “Not because you’re having bad cramps?”
She nodded.
“Kitten, it’s the most natural thing in the world. There’s nothing for you to be embarrassed about. Do you have anything to take for them?”
She bobbed her head. “But it makes me sleepy and I don’t like being by myself half conscious.”
When I’m With You (Indigo) Page 9