Two Tears in a Bucket

by Traci Bee

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Johnson. I am,” Kevin cried.

  “Then get it together, my son. And remember,” Mr. Johnson said as his image faded, “I’m watching you.”

  The sun’s rays beamed through the window of his small cell in solitary confinement. Kevin sprang up in bed and sighed. It had all been a dream. I’m going to get myself together, Mr. Johnson.

  A few weeks into his confinement, Kevin got a letter from his mother. The first sentence stole his breath. Beatrice had signed over custody on his behalf to Angela.

  “Ah, Ma,” Kevin said. “You didn’t sign for me!”

  ● ● ●

  Sixty days to the date he was put in the hole, Kevin was released back into the prison population with the promises he’d made to Mr. Johnson tattooed on the brain. But before he executed anything, he had to call Angela. He hunted through her letters until he found her number, and went to the phone. He dialed Angela’s number, but the call, for some odd reason, didn’t go through.

  Damn, what’s going on? Kevin wondered. He called his mother.

  “Hey, boy!” Beatrice greeted. “You outta the hole?”

  “Yeah, I got out today.”

  “You got my letter, right?”

  “Yeah, I got it. Did you ever talk to Simone?”

  “There was no need to. I saw her for myself. Don’t worry, though. Your baby’s in good hands now, and I’m still planning on getting her on the weekends as soon as they hire some more nurses.”

  “Yeah, I just wish I was home. I’m telling you, the stuff y’all saying don’t sound like Simone at all.”

  “Kevin,” Beatrice said, “I saw her for myself.”

  “Listen, though,” Kevin said, ready to change the subject. “I just called over to Angela’s, and the call didn’t go through. It was like her number was disconnected or something. Have you talked to her?”

  “Boy, I’ve been working like crazy. I haven’t had a chance to do anything in the last three weeks.” Beatrice yawned into the phone. “I’ll call over there later on and check on things for you. I love you, boy, and behave yourself.”

  Kevin called Fat Ed. Later wasn’t going to work for him. Something wasn’t right, and he knew it.

  “What’s up, nigga!” Fat Ed screamed into the phone. “You straight, man?”

  “Yeah, man, I’m good. Thanks for looking out for me, too.”

  “Yeah, man. I got your letter. Who the hell you in there paying to write for you?” Fat Ed chuckled through the phone.

  “Nobody. Shit, why everybody think I’m some dummy?”

  “Naw, man, I ain’t say you was no dummy, but ain’t no way in hell you wrote that got damn letter! Man, I couldn’t believe that shit about James. Damn, and that shit happened right in front of you?”

  “Yeah, man.” Kevin didn’t want to talk about James. “Hey, listen. I need you to do me a huge favor.”

  “What’s up? You short on dough already?”

  “Oh, naw, I’m straight on money. I need you to ride by Simone’s mother’s to check on Jordan. She got custody of my daughter.”

  “Yeah, man. I met Simone’s brother, Stan, a while back. Me and him partnered up, tryna do some things. That nigga into music like shit. We ’bout to open a recording studio.”

  “Yeah,” Kevin said, uninterested, “but listen. I been trying to call and check on Jordan, but the phone is disconnected or something. Do me a favor. Ride past there and check that out for me. Or call Simone’s brother and make sure everything’s okay.”

  “I’ll ride past, man, and check it out. But I don’t wanna be asking Stan no whole bunch of questions.”

  “That’s cool. When can you do that for me?”

  “Shit, man. They don’t live but a few minutes away. Call me back in an hour. I’ll swing past there now.”

  Shit, why the hell did I give up smoking? Kevin thought as he paced back and forth in the recreation hall. He couldn’t wait a whole hour. He called his mother again.

  “I’m sorry, Ma. I had to call you. Did you call over there?”

  “Yeah, and the number’s disconnected.”

  “Shit! Something ain’t right. I called Fat Ed and he’s gon’ ride past there for me.”

  “Why you so nervous? Everything’s cool. If Angela changed her number, I’m sure she’ll call and give it to me. Then I’ll give it to you. Stop stressing over nothing. Now go make some license plates or something,” Beatrice joked before hanging up.

  “Kennard!” the guard yelled out. “You had some mail returned. I put it on your cot.”

  Kevin headed to his cell. Two letters he’d written to Angela while he was in confinement lay on his cot marked ‘Unable to Forward.’

  Unable to forward? Kevin knew the address was right.

  An hour hadn’t passed, but he called Fat Ed back anyway.

  “Hey, man,” Kevin said. “So what happened?”

  “The house looked empty, man. And there was a ‘For Sale’ sign in the yard. They must’ve moved.”

  “Get the fuck outta here,” Kevin said.

  “Yeah, man. What’s wrong wit’ that, though? She got your baby, so I’m sure she’ll send you something in the mail. She got your address, right? Stop trippin’.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  January 1990

  Simone couldn’t bring herself to call Angela no matter how many times Thomas suggested it. Hearing Jordan in the background would only dig the dagger further into her heart. She hated her life, but she had to find the strength to fight back. Thomas bought her a used car, and she found employment through a temporary agency. Still, neither revived the part of her that she felt had died.

  “Simone!” Thomas yelled. “Your grandmother’s on the phone!”

  Nana? She hadn’t talked to Nana in months. How’d she get this number?

  “You know, I should come over there and beat your tail!” Nana said. “Why haven’t you called me? Thank the Lord, Stan dropped by yesterday.”

  “I’m sorry, Nana.”

  “Don’t be sorry, Simone,” Nana said softly. “I’ve been praying for you. Every single night. I can’t tell you how many conversations I’ve had with your momma, telling her to give you back your baby.”

  “She got people thinking I’m on drugs, Nana, and I swear I’ve never, ever—”

  “Simone, honey,” Nana cut her off, “you know I know that. The only person on drugs is your momma. Now, you listen to me. Your momma is planning a birthday party for Jordan, and I’m calling to let you know. Her and Ricardo don’ up and sold their old house and bought a new one a few weeks ago. They’re having the party at the new house and you should come.”

  “Nana, you know if Ricardo’s there, I can’t come.”

  “Who cares if he’s there? He don’t like me either, and I ain’t studying his foolish behind. The party is this weekend, so write down this address.”

  ● ● ●

  Simone drove up and down the street a few times, unsure if she really wanted to go inside. The pit of her being needed to see Jordan, to inhale her sweet baby scent while she cradled her in her arms. And for that reason alone, she squeezed her car into a parking space a few houses down from her mother’s.

  Looking around, she recognized a few of the cars. Stan got an invitation, Simone said to herself, recognizing her brother’s Pathfinder. How can she call Jordan’s uncle and not her mother?

  Simone rested her head on the steering wheel, trying to ward off the tears and muster up the strength to go inside. It’s Jordan’s birthday. I gotta go, she tried convincing herself over and over just as someone tapped on the passenger window. Simone looked up.

  “Oh my God,” she said, releasing the locks. Alicia stood at the passenger door with Jordan on her hip.

  “Say, hi, Simone,” Alicia said to Jordan as she opened the car door and climbed inside.

  Simone was so stunned by the sight of her baby that she didn’t even bother to correct Alicia. To Jordan, she wasn’t just Simone; she was her mother
.

  “Stan told us you were outside,” Alicia said. “Wow, Simone. You look so pretty.”

  Simone had made sure to look better than her best, for everyone in the house probably assumed she was on drugs. Just for the occasion, she’d gotten her hair done the day before and bought a new pair of jeans and an expensive wool sweater that was itching the hell out of her.

  “Oh my God. Look at my little baby,” Simone said, her eyes tearing up. Jordan’s hair had grown and was neatly brushed into two curly ponytails. “Come here, baby.”

  Simone took Jordan from Alicia and squeezed her. “Wow, you look just like your daddy, too,” she said. The resemblance between Jordan and Kevin was unreal. Jordan smiled, displaying two bottom teeth. “Look at your little teeth. Who told you to bring her out?” she asked Alicia.

  “Nana did. Stan saw you parking.”

  “Your mother didn’t say anything?”

  “No, she put Jordan’s jacket on and told me to bring her out.” Jordan turned to look at Alicia. “Hey, Jordan,” she cooed.

  Jordan let out a little whimper and reached for Alicia, killing Simone softly. She refused to hand her over, though. Part of her contemplated driving off with Alicia in the car, but she knew she wouldn’t get far before the police were called. Knowing her mother, she’d press charges and have Simone thrown in jail for kidnapping the baby her mother had stolen.

  “Dang, she don’t even know who I am,” Simone whispered.

  “You coming inside, Simone?” Alicia asked, opening the passenger-side door.

  “Yeah.”

  “I’ll get the stuff out the backseat,” Alicia volunteered.

  Simone climbed from the car with Jordan in her arms. Her heart quickened with each step up the walkway as she followed Alicia inside the house. The living room grew quiet when they walked in. All eyes fell upon Simone. She took a deep breath and forced her fakest smile ever.

  “Hello,” Simone greeted happily to the entire room.

  “Hey, Simone!” Nana greeted, cracking the silence. “Don’t you look beautiful.”

  “Hi, Simone,” Angela said without a pinch of guilt. Jordan squirmed in Simone’s arms, reaching for Angela. “I need to change her anyway,” Angela said as Simone passed her baby over to the thief without speaking.

  “Here, Simone. Come sit with me.” Nana made room for her granddaughter on the couch.

  Squeezing next to her, Simone scanned the room. The bulk of the people present were either Angela’s friends or Ricardo’s family.

  Me and Kevin supposed to be giving this party, Simone thought.

  “You okay?” Nana noticed the look on Simone’s face.

  “No. I can’t stay here, Nana. Jordan doesn’t even know who I am,” she mumbled on the verge of tears.

  “I know.” Nana patted Simone’s leg. “I thought it would be a good idea, but I guess I was wrong. I’ve been trying to talk some sense into her, Simone,” Nana mumbled underneath her breath.

  Angela walked back in the room, the happy host with Jordan on her hip.

  “I gotta go, Nana,” Simone mumbled. She stood from the couch as her tears began to fall.

  ● ● ●

  A message was taped to Simone’s bedroom door when she got home. Her placement specialist from the temporary agency wanted Simone to call her at home. Simone headed toward the phone to place the call.

  “Great news, Simone. You’ve been asking for an office assignment without the typical office environment, right?” she said in her chipper valley-girl accent.

  “Yes.”

  “Something that wouldn’t have you confined to a desk, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, I have something for you. I got an emergency page today from a large property management firm that’s in desperate need of someone. One of their consultants had to take a sudden leave of absence. So, here’s the job you’ve been requesting, and it’s long-term. There’s an awesome chance that you’ll be placed permanently. They’re expecting you Monday morning.”

  Part Two

  “Let it go…”

  Chapter Nineteen

  June 1992

  Two and a half years after walking into the leasing center as a temporary consultant, Simone had not only been welcomed on board permanently, but she’d been offered the sales manager position. Finally, she’d found a job that held her interest, one she looked forward to going to every morning. The passion she developed for her managerial position in sales was the perfect distraction from the rest of her life.

  Ten o’clock in the morning. The clock was ticking. The Monday morning reports were due to the corporate office in less than an hour. The door to the leasing center chimed, indicating a visitor. The four consultants Simone now managed were all out showing apartments.

  I hope they don’t wanna see no apartment, Simone thought as she mentally transformed into the happy-go-lucky sales manager.

  “Hey there. How you doing?” She flashed her dimpled smile to the suited gentleman. “How can I help you this morning?”

  “Yeah.” He stared at Simone. “Umm…” he moaned, squinting his eyes, deep in thought. “I came to turn in this application. I understand y’all are looking for law enforcement people to work surveillance around here part-time.”

  “Yes, the residents are complaining about the kids loitering and selling weed. We don’t want it to escalate so…” She allowed her simple shrug to complete her sentence. “You’re a police officer?”

  “Kinda. I work for the DEA, and my particular unit works closely with the county police. We oversee a lot of drug operations, and we’ve cleaned up quite a few apartment complexes.”

  “Okay, cool. Maybe you could actually be in charge of the operation here. Like I said, it’s not bad, but we don’t want it to get bad.”

  “I understand.”

  “Since you have the experience and know the cops already, maybe you can run the schedule, hire your own team, everything. I won’t have to do anything but hire you.” Simone smiled.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, staring at Simone, “but this is killing me. It seems like I know you from somewhere.”

  “You think so?”

  “Yeah. I never forget a pretty face, and yours has to be one of the prettiest I’ve seen in a long time. It’ll come to me when I leave,” he said as he handed her the application. “So what do I do now?”

  “When did you want to start?”

  “I can start tonight, for real.”

  “Then tonight it is…” Simone glanced at the application for a name. “Perkins?” Her memory kicked in. “Agent Perkins! Oh my goodness, I remember you.”

  “So we have met?”

  “Yeah.” Simone lowered her voice. “You stopped this other officer from checking me a few years ago over in Stanford Woods. I’ll never ever forget that. I was scared to death.”

  “Yeah! That’s where I know you from! You have that pretty little baby.”

  “Shh,” Simone said, looking around the office, making sure they were the only two present. “Nobody knows I have a baby.”

  “Why? Something happened to your daughter?”

  “No, but it’s a long story. Never mention her in here.”

  “Okay, but you gotta explain that some day. Maybe over dinner.” His pager vibrated. “Ah, man. They would call me when I was getting ready to ask you out. I’ll be back,” he said, heading out of the office.

  Later that week, Simone sat behind her desk, finalizing the leases for the ten families that were scheduled to move in Saturday morning. Eight of the apartments were ready to go, and two were still being worked on by the maintenance staff. Simone wasn’t leaving until she’d inspected each and every one. She didn’t have far to travel. Home was now a two-bedroom apartment within the community. She walked to and from work every day.

  “Hey!” Agent Perkins walked into the leasing center. “What you doing working late on a Friday night? Somebody as pretty as you should be out on a date.”

  “Soun
ds good, but I have people moving in tomorrow. I still have to inspect two more apartments, but that may have to wait until the morning. I’m starving and I’m tired.”

  “Well, I’m going to pick up something to eat. I can bring you back something.”

  “Good,” Simone said, reaching for her purse.

  “You don’t need your purse. I got it,” Agent Perkins said. “Just tell me what you want.”

  “No, that’s okay, Perkins. I can get it.”

  “Simone, I’m not taking your money, and stop calling me Perkins. I told you before to call me Andre.”

  She glanced up from her purse. “Okay, Andre. Bring me whatever. I’m so hungry that it won’t even matter.”

  Simone’s workday rarely ended on time, and night after night, Andre kept her company, filling the time with chatter and Styrofoam containers stuffed with their dinner. He surprised her one Saturday night, strolling into the leasing center in a crisp white linen outfit.

  “Wow, don’t you look nice,” Simone complimented. “I guess you’re not working here tonight, huh? You look like you have a hot date.”

  “I do,” he said confidently. “With you.”

  After much persuasion, he convinced Simone to say goodnight to her desk and join him for dinner at an exquisite restaurant.

  “You belong in places like this,” Andre whispered softly, caressing Simone at the small of her back as the maître d’ escorted them to an intimate booth.

  The relationship progressed, and each weekend, Andre surprised Simone with something different. He wined and dined her as if she were a queen and impressed her with his gentlemanly mannerisms. He opened her car door, pulled out her chair, and allowed her to order first with a graceful wave of his hand. It was those simple things and more that carried a lot of weight with Simone. No other man had ever treated her like Andre.

  Two hundred and thirty pounds of solid muscle, Andre walked with the confidence of a soldier. Chiseled to perfection, with a clean, bald head and dark features that rested handsomely along his milk-chocolate skin, he was the epitome of sexy. He was rough, but not thuggish like Kevin. And while Andre often conversed with the higher-ups in corporate America, he could break it down and keep it real with the niggas in the hood. He was sexy, diverse, and a perfect gentleman.