He hesitated at Parvell Sykes’s name because the last thing he wanted to do was remind this girl of the man she’d just recently stopped dating. As hard as it was for the player in him to admit it, Lamont was falling for Theresa and he had trouble with the thought of her being in another man’s arms.
“. . . and Parvell,” Theresa said for him. “Too many folks like Charmayne and Parvell want to forget about this place. That’s why they are so bound and determined to help Jethro Winters turn this place into something it was never meant to be—a bunch of overpriced condos and town homes for upper-class folks (mostly white) who have a penchant for so-called sophisticated urban living.”
“Yeah,” Lamont added with a heavy sigh. “I’ve always wondered why it’s the inner city when we live here and something like ‘sophisticated urban living’ when white folks start moving back in.”
He drove around the corner and stopped in front of one of the few houses left in the community. He turned the car off and got out.
“I remember this house,” Theresa said, as she hopped out of the car and clapped her hands in pure delight. “It’s the Meeting House, where all of the fancy folks used to stay when they came to NCCU or Eva T. Marshall. I used to love to sit on the steps of this house, just to see who would come out of it.”
“Me, too,” Lamont told her. It felt so good to have someone, other than his design team or family, share his appreciation for the Cashmere. No other woman understood what he was talking about. The one time he tried to show this very house to Chablis, she’d turned up her nose and started dialing clients on her cell until he finished inspecting it.
“This house is going to be renovated and will be the focal point of the new Cashmere Estates. I’m working with Rhodes, Rhodes, and Rhodes architectural firm and—”
“Those old bad-tailed Rhodes sisters make up your design team?” Theresa asked with a hearty laugh. “They put my store together and did some work on my house. But I have to tell you, those three are something else—always arguing and just being plain bad.”
“I know,” Lamont said. “They have to be one of the best firms in the state. But Lawd knows those are some headstrong, need-they-butts-beat women. Smart, witty, funny, and just as crazy and different from one another as night and day. That little Nina is a genius of a designer but she can work a nerve down to the last strand of DNA.”
“And Nicole,” Theresa added. “She comes across as all quiet but don’t mess with her on legal matters.”
“Who you tellin’,” he said. “I’ve seen her make puree out of folks without so much as working up a sweat. And then that Lauren. You put that little roughneck on the job and your buildings go up and they definitely won’t come down.”
“Lamont, you have to win that contract, you just have to.”
“I sure do, don’t I,” he said, smiling into her eyes.
Theresa stared down at the ground and swirled her shoe around in the dirt until she felt her chin being lifted gently by strong fingertips. She started to look down again, when she heard a soft “uh, uh,” and felt his lips pressed against her own.
“That was nice,” he whispered and kissed her again, only this time with more boldness as he pulled one of her lips between both of his.
“Ummm, that was even better, baby,” Lamont murmured right before placing his hands on either side of Theresa’s face and kissing her deeply.
She felt his hands slide down her back, only to rest firmly on her waist in very much the same way that she’d imagined it while still in the car. She wrapped her own arms around Lamont and held him tight.
“Ohhh,” he sighed. “It’s been so long since a woman has wrapped me up like that. I believe I could stand here like this practically all day.”
“Me, too,” Theresa whispered back.
He stepped back a few inches and unclipped his vibrating cell phone from his waist and glanced at the caller ID.
“Excuse me, Theresa, but I have to take this,” Lamont said solemnly, giving the impression that it was an important business call, and then walked away several feet, so he wouldn’t be in earshot of Theresa. But that only made her ease over closer, so she could hear better.
“I’m kinda of busy right now,” Lamont said. “Can this wait until I get back to the office?”
“No,” Theresa overheard Gwen Green say so loudly until it made her wonder if Lamont’s ears were ringing.
“But why?” he asked. “I’ve already talked to my brother and he said that Monty’s application had been approved and he could pledge Omega this spring.”
For several minutes, Lamont remained quiet, as if what was being said was the absolutely most important thing that could be said this morning.
“No, Gwen,” he said with a sigh. “Monty cannot go on line before that because there will not be a new line of pledges for Durham’s graduate chapter until the spring.”
“But what about Greensboro?” Gwen’s voice rang out.
“Why would the boy pledge in Greensboro when he clearly lives in Durham County? That—”
Lamont sighed heavily and then said, “Look, I’ll have to call you back.”
He flipped his cell closed and shook his head, completely unaware of how closely Theresa was watching him. Why did Gwendolyn always have to have long and detailed conversations about matters that did not warrant immediate attention? Theresa knew from conversations with Miss Queen Esther that Monty was very independent and did not want his parents in his personal affairs.
Lamont put one hand on his hip, looked up, and sighed heavily. He turned back around to continue the “conversation” he’d been working up on with Theresa, only to discover that she was sitting in the car with her seat belt on. He sighed heavily again.
“Women,” he muttered, before slipping into the driver’s seat and turning on the gospel radio station. He needed something to soothe his ruffled feathers and put him in a better mood—especially after the chilly reception he had just received from his passenger.
“Are you all right?” he asked her, hoping to get some feedback on this sudden change of heart. Minutes ago, he could have sworn that the girl had gotten heated up enough to practically melt in his arms. And now, he could just about see her breath puffing up like smoke in the frosty confines of the car.
“Yes.”
“You sure?”
“Do I look like there is something wrong with me?” Theresa snapped, wishing she could act like there was nothing wrong. She didn’t know why those impromptu, ill-timed, unexpected, and lengthy calls over what sounded like inconsequential concerns bothered her so much. And they hurt, too, because those phone calls always seemed to spring right up whenever Theresa felt a warm connection building between her and Lamont.
Lamont’s first inclination was to leave this matter the heck alone. Nothing worse than exploring what appeared to be a trivial issue with a woman who had just said some asinine foolishness like, “Do I look like something is wrong with me?” Of course she looked like something was wrong. And he knew that if Theresa said that junk, whatever was wrong, was much deeper than she was willing to reveal.
He was about to put the car in drive, when he glanced at Theresa out of the corner of his eye. She was sitting straight and stiff like she was too much of a sophisticated, twenty-first-century black woman to get so mad that she lost it and put on what his brother called “the colored woman’s show”—neck snapping, finger waving, hand-on-hip, tooth sucking, and “let-me-tell-you-one-thang” perched on the tip of her tongue.
“Whew,” he exhaled softly, knowing without even asking further that Theresa’s anger had been ignited by that long and very unnecessary telephone call. Maybe Auntee was on the money when she kept getting on him to put Gwen in check.
Lamont took one of Theresa’s hands out of her lap and raised it to his lips, kissing it softly, gently, and with so much love, it almost made him gasp as loudly as Theresa in complete astonishment. All of these years he’d been running from falling in love, and he hadn
’t even realized it until now.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly.
Theresa relaxed some, took a deep breath as if she were about to say something.
He let go of her hand, turned the radio down, and sat back, obviously anticipating one of those long, drawn-out discussions women were so famous for when they finally decided to give you the 411.
“Lamont, how long have you and Gwen been divorced?”
“Over ten years.”
“And you have no intention of ever getting back together?”
“Nope,” he answered firmly and without any emotion, good or bad.
Theresa took a real deep breath. She wasn’t too sure about how he would take what she had to say next. But it needed to be said. As far as she could tell, Lamont wouldn’t have full peace and healing from his past until he realized that it was just that—the past, nothing more, nothing less.
“You and Gwen can be inconsiderate of other people’s feelings.”
Theresa could feel Lamont bristling from her words. She wasn’t trying to be unkind to him, or to Gwen for that matter. But the truth was the truth. She waited a few seconds to see if he was going to try and dispute what she was saying, but all he did was say, “Go on.”
“Lamont, there have been moments, like today, when you and I have made a very wonderful connection. And then that phone rings, it’s Gwen, and you cut off whatever was going on between us, to run off and talk to her about absolutely nothing.”
“I don’t think of my business as ‘absolutely nothing,’” he said testily.
Theresa was about to back down, give up, and just wait for him to take her back to the store, when she remembered something her first lady, Lena Quincey, once shared with her. Lena said that whenever somebody had a hard time hearing the truth from you, “speak the Word of God because that Word never failed to stop them right in their tracks.”
She averted her eyes from the hard glare in Lamont’s and pressed on.
“In Ephesians chapter five, husbands are called to love their wives like Christ loved the church. They are also directed to love their wives as their own bodies. No man in his right mind would treat himself as shabbily as you have treated me when you talk to Gwen on that phone of yours, even though I am not even your girlfriend.
“But if you were to be so unwise and unthinking as to let that kind of thing happen to whoever becomes your wife, you would not be in line with the Lord’s will for you as her husband. Because as your wife, she would deserve your utmost allegiance, respect, and consideration even if it meant stepping on somebody else’s toes when they themselves stepped outside of what is the proper way to act towards a married man.”
“I see,” was all Lamont said because he was too full of what his aunt always referred to as “Holy Ghost conviction.” Everybody had been getting on him about Gwen and those calls. But this was the first time anyone had ever put it to him in a way that made sense and went straight to his heart. Theresa was right. He couldn’t let his past barge into his present, his future, and hurt the woman he allowed to cup his heart in the palm of her hands.
Lamont blinked back his tears. Last thing he wanted was to appear weak and like a wuss to Theresa. He reached over and grabbed her hands, which looked to him like they had been especially designed for holding his heart.
“Thank you,” he whispered and kissed her hand one more time.
His cell phone began to vibrate and before Theresa could get half an eyebrow raised, Lamont glanced at the caller ID, smiled and said, “Miss Nina Rhodes, with her busy, little redbone self.”
Theresa smiled, once again happy that the tension had been broken between them. It was hard to open up to a man, and then call him out after you had opened yourself up to him.
“Hello, Nina.”
“Bossman,” she said loud enough for Theresa to hear. “Bossman, get on over here. I have the first phase of the design ready.”
“First phase? What about the whole phase, girl? We have less than two weeks to get this thing ready for the DUDC and you talking about phase one?”
“Take your panties out of a bunch,” Nina replied with so much little-bad-tailed sassiness, Theresa started laughing, and then tried to stop when Lamont frowned at her.
“We are not taking the entire presentation into the meeting. Just the first part, which looks like the whole thing but it’s not. We got to fool them, so we’ll see what they have to put on the table before we pull out the big guns.”
“And why is that?” Lamont inquired, not so sure he wanted to buy into this.
“Because I ran into Craig Utley’s secretary’s baby daddy, and he told me that his baby’s mama wanted somebody on our team to know that we are not to bring in our final product. Said that is how Jethro Winters beats out the competition every time—by letting them think that what he presents is all that he has to offer, when it isn’t. He uses that strategy to get the scoop on the competition, then he finagles another meeting, submits a better proposal, and wins the contract. And since Patricia Harmon is letting him tap that tail, I know he’ll be able to get a second meeting at your expense, Bossman.”
“I see,” was all that Lamont could say. Nina Rhodes was a mess. And a nosy little redbone who knew everything. If he ever looked up “the 411,” Nina’s picture would be right next to the definition.
Theresa was cracking up with laughter over Nina’s very accurate, albeit “ghetto-fabulous” low-down on the situation. Nina heard a woman laughing and asked, “Bossman, who the heck is that you got with you laughing like that? It show don’t sound like that ‘Lee-press-on-weave’ hoochie, Table Wine, either.”
This time Lamont started laughing. That girl was a nut. He said, “No, missy, Chablis, or Table Wine, as you so affectionately call her, is not with me. It’s Theresa Hopson.”
“Oh . . . snap, Bossman,” was all Nina said, and hung up.
“You think it’s time for us to get back to work?” Lamont asked Theresa.
“Yes, Bossman,” Theresa replied in such a perfect imitation of Nina Rhodes that Lamont laughed and said, “You ’bout as crazy as that little redbone back at my office.”
He put the car in gear and pulled off, taking a quick moment to look at Cashmere Estates in the rearview mirror. For the first time in weeks, he was filled with an inexplicable feeling of a pending victory.
Chapter Eleven
LAMONT CLICKED THE ALARM BUTTON ON HIS KEYS, just as James slid his gold Expedition in the space right next to him. His sister-in-law, Rhonda, hopped out wearing a striking rust-colored hat she could have only found at Miss Thang’s. From the very beginning, Theresa had kept her store stocked with a most unique and eye-catching array of church lady hats. It was refreshing to see that she had not lost her touch in that area of retail.
Folks—men and women alike—always said that a trip to Miss Thang’s was a treat. And several of these people had also testified to receiving some very sweet and timely blessings when they visited the store and fellowshipped with Theresa and his aunt. They were right on the money, too. Lamont had certainly not expected to receive that blessing the Lord sent through Miss Baby Doll the day he was at Theresa’s store.
And even better, Lamont had been blessed a second time, when he found himself holding Theresa Hopson in his arms—something he’d been aching to do since their chance meeting at the Washington Duke Inn. Now that was a heaping helping of good woman—the kind of “sweet thang” a brother could snuggle up to, and be guaranteed that he would remain warm throughout a chilly Tarheel night.
Lamont walked up to his sister-in-law grinning.
“You awfully clean there this morning, girl. You’ve been taking all of your hard-earned dollars over to Miss Thang’s?”
“Yes,” she said, smiling and patting her rust-colored silk hat, with its pleated crown, a short brim, and the gold, rust, charcoal, and silver paisley-printed ribbon around the crown. “And . . . uhh . . . I heard that you made a trip to Miss Thang’s your own self.”
&
nbsp; “Well, you know how it is,” Lamont responded, scratching at his chin like one of the brothers on the corner. “A brother needs to know what’s all in that store you good saved sisters always raving about. And from what I’ve seen, there is a whole lot of good stuff up in that store.”
“Show is,” Rhonda said and did a quick twirl, so that he could see the rest of her outfit—a snug-fitting rust suede suit with a silk shell that matched the ribbon on the crown of the hat, rust and charcoal suede purse, with matching rust and charcoal suede pumps with chrome-colored spike heels.
“And,” she added, “the best thing in that store is Miss Thang herself.”
“You crazy,” was all Lamont said with a deep chuckle.
“Yep, my baby is just as crazy as can be,” James said, as he helped their two boys and one baby girl out of the car. He was pretty sharp himself in a deep rust-colored suit, dove gray shirt with tiny rust and charcoal pinstripes, along with a rust silk tie with tiny charcoal and silver Js on it.
“I won’t cut my fingers this morning, if I touch you, Dawg,” Lamont said as he walked over to his little brother, grabbed his hand, and leaned toward him in that masculine greeting of a combination hug/handshake.
“You’re not doing too poorly yourself, Big Bro,” James said, admiring Lamont’s chocolate suit with deep cream chalk stripes, ivory jacquard print cotton shirt, and chocolate tie with the tiniest cream, silver, and pale blue stripes in it.
“You dressin’ to impress this morning?” Rhonda asked, hoping that Theresa Hopson was at church for the eleven o’clock service. Her brother-in-law was already a fine-looking man. But if somebody looked up the words “pimpin’” this morning, all they would find were pictures of Lamont in that suit.
Lamont sniffed at the air and sucked on a tooth, before he said, “Well, you know how it is.”
“Naw, I don’t know, Dawg,” Rhonda said, egging him on. “But you sure can try and tell me about it.”
“Well it’s like this, li’l Sis,” he said. “See, I had to make sure that I was in my best at-tire when I came up in my Father’s house. ’Cause me and the Lord workin’ on me learning to make better use of His mainline. That way, when I call Him up, I’ll know just what to say when it’s time to tell Him what I want.”
Holy Ghost Corner Page 15