Up at the College

by Michele Andrea Bowen

  Something wasn’t right about this meeting. Yvonne didn’t know what it was. But she knew in her heart that something was up. She dug around in her purse and pulled out a tiny vial of anointing oil, put a few drops in her hand, and anointed her head.

  “Lord, keep a blood covering over me in Jesus’s name. Father, give me wisdom and the courage to do Your will in this situation. In Jesus’s name I pray, amen.”

  Yvonne got out of the car and made her way to the conference room, which Maurice had told her was on the first floor. This was an impressive building and it was clear that the school had dropped a whole lot of money in it. But she thought her building was much nicer—even if it didn’t have enough parking spaces. There were some definite advantages to being in the Department of Design. They could make sure that their building represented what was going on inside.

  Yvonne loved her job. It was the first time in a long while that she’d had a job where she got to do what she loved to do—interior and exterior design, painting, furniture design, and teaching. She worked with some of the kindest and sweetest people on campus, and had great hours for a single mom.

  The only problem was that a lot of folk in her department, Yvonne included, did not have permanent, tenure-track appointments. They were contracted annually as consultants, and without benefits. She was paid well—69,000 dollars a year with bonuses for off-campus contracting. But she knew that she needed to be given a permanent, tenure-track position with benefits.

  Still, she couldn’t complain because this job had been a blessing. And as her mother told her, God would step in and fix it all in due season. All she had to do was continue to work hard and stay strong in her faith in the Lord. Her main job was to trust Him and He would do the rest. A simple requirement that at times was one of the hardest things a child of the King had to learn to do.

  Over the past two years, Yvonne had been able to become debt-free and buy a new car, and could afford a lovely three-bedroom cottage in Cashmere Estates. Right now money, unlike two years ago, wasn’t a problem. But she needed and wanted and deserved more job security. Yvonne was learning, up close and personal, what it really meant to walk by faith.

  There were times when it was scary. She’d walk through her house at night, when it was peaceful and the girls were in their rooms happy and content. Then the temporariness of her job situation would send a wave of fear through her entire being. The first time that happened, Yvonne thought she’d lose it. She went and sat on the side of her bed and cried like a baby.

  She had come so far and life was so good. Yvonne and the girls loved their home, they had great neighbors, and she was enjoying life for the first time in many years. The mere thought of having to go back to where she had been when Darrell put her out was unbearable. In that scariest moment, Yvonne picked up her Bible and searched for a Word concerning her situation. The only words that she kept hearing spoken softly and gently to her heart were, “Trust Me.” She then turned to Hebrews 11:1, where she was reminded that faith was “the confident assurance that what we hope for is going to happen. It is the evidence of things we cannot yet see.”

  God blessed Yvonne in that moment and reminded her to remain confidently assured that her hope for a permanent position was going to happen. He also let her know, just as He did Joshua, that He would never leave her or forsake her. Right now, while looking for the conference room, Yvonne was reminded that no matter how things appeared, God was right there by her side.

  Yvonne walked down the hall of the Athletic Center. Judging from the austere black carpet and gray walls with red stripes painted in the middle, it was clear that nobody in this department had taken it upon themselves to call her people for some much-needed help and advice.

  If Yvonne had been on the design team, she would have laid down black Berber tile carpet, painted the walls a deep smoky gray, and used a brick red on the molding and trim. She would have had the uniforms of past star players on the wall in steel-gray frames. And instead of the plain industrial track lighting, she would have opted for stainless steel lamps that hung low from the ceiling all the way down the wide entry hall.

  She found the plain gray door leading to the conference room. It was a lot better than the rest of the area she’d seen, but it had a long way to go before it would measure up to her department’s standards. She could not believe that somebody had ordered that long wooden table in a generic brown that did nothing for the rest of the room. All that was needed was a heavy glass conference table with stainless steel trim and legs, surrounded by black mesh high-back chairs with the same stainless steel trim.

  Yvonne was the first one there and had her pick of where to sit. The only problem with this plan, though, was that she didn’t have a clue as to where the head of the table was. There was no telling where the person running the meeting was going to sit.

  Curtis walked into the room and lit up in a bright smile when he saw Yvonne sitting at the conference table. He had not seen her since they all had dinner in Raleigh, and he had forgotten how good he felt when he was around that girl.

  “Hey, lady, how you be?”

  “Good morning, Coach,” Yvonne said in a very polite and formal voice. She had figured that Curtis would be at the meeting and thought it would be easier to see him in a business setting. She and Curtis had had so much fun together in Raleigh, and it was hard for her to believe he could have that much fun with her and then go off and never even think about getting in contact with her. Maybe it was a guy thing, and she wouldn’t understand.

  Curtis was caught off guard by Yvonne’s cold response to him. The last time they saw each other had been wonderful. Yvonne had been so sweet and warm until he couldn’t even sleep for thinking about her. Now she was acting as if he’d done something wrong …

  Shoot, he thought. Curtis remembered that he’d asked Yvonne if she’d like to have lunch with him on campus. She told him yes, and made it clear that she looked forward to spending more time in his company. Curtis had been around scheming and conniving skeezer types for so long, he’d forgotten what a woman with a genuine reaction to you was like.

  He’d also forgotten that genuine and honest women would think that you were jive and playing games if you never followed up on suggestions that you made without their prompting to get together. So of course the girl would be cold and distant. He had given the distinct impression that he liked her and wanted to see her again, and then hadn’t had the decency to make good on his own promise. Curtis smiled again. Yvonne liked him and that was a good thing.

  “Let’s try this again,” he said.

  Yvonne just looked at him and then put her chin in her hands, elbows on the table.

  “I … I …” he began, not really knowing how to say this in a cool way, and feeling as if he were suddenly thirteen years old again.

  “Let me see if I can help you out, Coach,” she said. “You made it clear that we should get together for lunch, and then just went about your merry way when it occurred to you that you’re just not that into me.”

  Yvonne had been on her own with her girls for two years. In that time, not one man worth a nanosecond of her time had expressed any interest in her. In fact, they acted as if she were invisible. And right now she just didn’t have the patience to pacify a man who enjoyed her company on a short-term basis but was just too much of an idiot to see what a jewel she was. The good thing is that Yvonne knew she was a jewel. It just hurt sometimes that there wasn’t a man around with sense enough to see that she was and act like it.

  Curtis opened his mouth to dispute that foolish claim. He was very into Yvonne and regretted how he’d handled her. She was kind, honest, and forthright. And she wasn’t trying to play games and not act as if she didn’t want to be around him. It felt good for a woman to react to him like that.

  The door to the conference room opened and Gilead Jackson, Kordell Bivens, and Regina Young walked in. Regina took one look at Yvonne, turned up her nose, and promptly went over to Curtis to make sure t
hat Polly Pocket–looking heifer knew to back off and stay away from her man. Plus, she didn’t like the way Curtis was acting around that woman. He was just too comfortable, content, and slaphappy to be with her. In fact, if her eyes served her right, Curtis was acting just as Maurice Fountain carried on when Trina was around.

  Gilead was not happy that Regina had her butt all hunched up on her shoulders over Curtis Parker’s reaction to Yvonne Copeland, Fountain, or whatever her name was. He’d left home at five a.m., under the guise of going to work out, just so he could spend a few hours in Regina’s bed. They had been some good, freaky hours, too. Gilead wondered if Curtis knew that his woman was the kind of freak “you don’t take home to Mother.”

  Maybe not, he surmised. Regina complained endlessly about having to be around Miss Doreatha Parker and Curtis’s mother, Miss Daphine. She wasn’t into mothers—especially the mothers of men like Curtis Parker and Maurice Fountain. They were the kind of mamas who always saw past the smoke screen of a woman who didn’t mean right by their boys.

  Regina has some nerve, Gilead thought, watching her slip her hand through Curtis Parker’s arm and press into him. And she really believes the world revolves around her.

  Curtis had been trying to catch up with Regina for two days but to no avail. She’d been avoiding him and he didn’t know why. But what he did know was that he didn’t appreciate this mess, and especially in front of Yvonne. It was clear that Regina was blocking. And judging from the expression on Yvonne’s face, she was doing a bang-up job at it, too.

  He pulled away from Regina, and went and took a seat next to Yvonne, who got up and moved. She did not want to be bothered with anybody in this room. She didn’t want to be at this meeting because she suspected that it was about some mess. And right now she did not want to sit next to Curtis, who apparently did not want to sit with Regina, who definitely didn’t want this man anywhere near her.

  “Coach Jackson, you called my department and demanded that I be at a meeting concerning some of Coach Parker’s players. My time is short and precious. I’d like to know why I need to be here like this.”

  Kordell Bivens tried to hide his surprise. He’d never pegged Yvonne Fountain as somebody with enough guts to speak up. She always struck him as a woman who was concerned with making sure she did and said the right thing. Kordell couldn’t recall ever hearing Yvonne raise her voice to anybody.

  Yvonne glanced over at Kordell and suppressed an urge to cut her eyes at him. She didn’t like him for the sole reason that he was best friends with Rico Sneed, and was always helping Rico get away with his dirt at Marquita’s expense. If that negro wasn’t so big and mean-looking, she would have gotten up, gone to his side of the table, and slapped the ugly off of him. But on second thought, she could hurt herself trying to slap all the ugly off of that man.

  Gilead wasn’t used to small-fry faculty talking to him like that. Because it was rare that an untenured, non-tenure-track member of the faculty like Yvonne had the gumption to face off with Gilead. A lot of people at the university were afraid of Gilead. He had a lot of pull with the president and could execute a hit on an employee’s job in a heartbeat.

  “Are you tenure track, Ms. Copeland?”

  “Fountain. My last name is Fountain, Gilead,” Yvonne responded, knowing that she was pushing the envelope calling him by his first name. But she didn’t care right now. It was turning out to be a very bad morning and she just wasn’t up to being nice.

  “Well then, Yvonne,” Gilead stated with a sly grin on his face. “Did you know that Sam Redmond is intent on hiring Dr. Darrell Copeland, who I believe is your ex-husband?”

  Yvonne stood up and picked up her things. She didn’t know where this man was going with this mess but she wasn’t going to take it from him. Regina stared at Yvonne, surprised. She had no idea that Darrell Copeland was her babies’ daddy. Wonders never ceased.

  “And his wife, Dr. Bettina Copeland, needs a job. We are looking for funding to pay her. Your job is eating up money that could be used as salary for a real faculty member—not some jacked-up janitress.”

  Yvonne picked up her bag and backed away from the table. She’d heard that Gilead Jackson was mean and nasty and a piece of work. But no one had ever told her that this man was just plain evil. She looked up quickly, hoping that she’d successfully pushed back her tears.

  Regina wrote a note and passed it over to Kordell. It said, “Let’s see ‘Polly Pocket’ get out of this one. You think Jesus gone swoop down and save the day?”

  Kordell started laughing. He wondered why folks were always depending on Jesus. Because it was during moments just like these that people needed Jesus to lend them a helping hand. And here was Yvonne Fountain, who was as churchy as Rico’s annoying wife, standing there trying not to cry because Jesus had left her out on a ledge—high and dry.

  Yvonne fought back those tears and put her hand to her heart. She thought, Lord, I need You. These people don’t fear You and they definitely don’t think You are capable of helping me when faced with them. Let them know that this is not the case.

  “Why is Yvonne here, wasting time with the likes of you, Gilead?” Curtis demanded, glad that Maurice, who had been running late, had finally shown up.

  “Sorry I’m late. Junior got sick at school and I had to go get him,” Maurice said breathlessly. It suddenly occurred to him that there was a whole lot of tension in this room, and that his cousin was standing there looking pissed and trying not to cry.

  “I miss something?” he asked, now ready to jump in the fray. He didn’t sit back and let people mess over his kinfolk.

  “Don’t worry, frat, ’cause I got this,” Curtis told him. He knew Kordell hated that they were Omegas because he and Rico had never gotten past having their applications to pledge the graduate chapter tossed right in the trash as soon as they were taken out of the mailbox.

  “Like I said—why is Yvonne here? And why are you trying to beat her down, Gilead? What is it that you want to bully her into doing?”

  It was clear that Gilead did not like being called out like that. He said, “She hasn’t turned in grades for three of the players you want to start at the game with Bouclair College. Remember the game you postponed after you whipped out a hidden clause on the president? Those players, dawg.”

  “LeDarius Johnson, Kaylo Bailey, and Sherron Grey have to finish up an exterior painting project for the university’s day care center. It’s been raining a lot and we had to postpone it, so I sent in incompletes during the midterm grading period.”

  “So, what you are saying is that without that grade, they are failing, right?” Gilead sneered.

  Yvonne had enough of these people. She remembered the scripture “In this world you will have trials and tribulations. But cheer up, for I have overcome them all,” and felt a beautiful peace in her spirit. She also knew that just as with Joshua, God was right in this room with her. Her mother was right when she always told her and Rochelle to stay in the scriptures because you never knew when you’d need one at a moment’s notice.

  “No. Those boys are excellent students and a joy to teach. But this assignment is thirty percent of their grade and I want them to get the A-pluses they have been working so hard for all year. That’s why I sent in the incompletes. I wanted them to get the A-plus instead of an A-minus or B-plus.”

  “Well, what about Sonny Washington III and DeMarcus Brown? I noticed that they have incompletes as well. Are you saying that they are on the verge of an A-plus, too?”

  Yvonne started laughing. She could now see where this was going. Trina, as well as Rochelle, who served as legal counsel for the university, had schooled her on what was going on in the Athletic Department. Gilead was trying to bully her so that Curtis Parker couldn’t play the players most capable of kicking Bouclair College’s butt when they faced off in two weeks. He knew, she knew, everybody on campus knew that Sonny III, or June Bug Washington, and DeMarcus Brown didn’t have what it took to take on those thugs fr
om Bouclair College.

  The Panthers needed some players who had skills and just enough gangsta in them to know when and how to get down and dirty when they went up against those criminals masquerading as basketball players from Bouclair College. They also needed to start the players who would do what their coach told them to do to win. They needed some players who listened, behaved, could play the game, and had some sense.

  “They have incompletes because I’m trying my best not to fail them,” Yvonne said as she put her bag back on the table and pulled out a very pretty pink leather Dell laptop.

  Yvonne opened the computer and turned it on.

  “This will only take a minute. I just got this and it’s fast.”

  Gilead looked at Kordell, who shrugged as if to say, “The heck if I know what this crazy girl is doing.”

  Yvonne tap, tap, tapped on the laptop keys for about twenty seconds. Regina rapped her fancy red ink pen on the side of the table, hoping that Yvonne would get the message and hurry up with whatever HGTV activity she was taking up their time to do.

  “Done,” Yvonne said, smiling brightly and looking as if she held the winning ticket for the North Carolina Lottery.

  Curtis thought she looked adorable with her face all lit up like that. He made a quick mental comparison between the two women and Yvonne won hands down. Regina was definitely the better dressed of the two women—if you focused solely on the obvious expense of their clothing.