Before I Let Go

by Darren Coleman

  She sat quietly next to me, holding my hand as we waited, while I took notice of two brothers laughing loudly by the payphones. They were acting as if they were intoxicated, but I could tell that they weren’t. They were just loud. One of them was sort of tall and looked familiar for some reason, but I couldn’t figure out why. I knew that I didn’t know him, and the way they were acting I was glad that I didn’t, so that they wouldn’t come over and do the whole handshake thing.

  Nina began talking to me about a restaurant down on Wisconsin Avenue that we should have gone to and perhaps avoided the crowd. As she went on, I was thinking about how lucky I had been to stumble onto her at that party that night. We were becoming an item, although we still had yet to put any titles on our relationship. Nina was spending at least three nights a week at my place, and I was spending one at hers occasionally as well. My mother had wondered out loud if I was doing the right thing by dating Shelly’s baby sister. She’d said, “Cory, with all of the single women in this area, why would you pick one that you had to stir up trouble with? You need to think of the rift that you’re going to cause in that family, and really ask yourself if you’re going to be worth the damage that you cause between sisters. How would you feel if you were in Shelly’s shoes?”

  It had been a good point, but the only thing my mother was unaware of was that Shelly didn’t know what was going on. Within a couple of weeks after Christmas, Shelly had apologized to Nina and never asked her about it again. Nina believed that Shelly had assumed there was nothing going on between us because Shelly would assume that if something were Nina would have told her about it. Shelly couldn’t have been more wrong, because Nina and I were enjoying each other immensely and were basically fucking like a couple of jackrabbits. We had gone skiing in the Pocono Mountains with Nate and India, and she had accompanied me to Manhattan on a business trip. She had shopped at Burberry’s, Saks, and Bloomingdale’s, my treat, while I went to meetings. One night she even got me to see The Lion King.

  “We were obviously destined to meet up again,” she’d told me. “It seems as though we would never have bumped into each other otherwise.”

  There was no denying that I hadn’t had a chance to go out much at all since I had moved back. The job had been extremely demanding. Each department head had come to realize that I was becoming Jamison Hakito’s right-hand man. I’d even felt some jealousy from those who had been at the company longer than I, especially from a coworker named Roy Wells, who ran the accounting department. He was the only other black in management, but was not considered an executive, which meant the poor fellow did not have a parking space. I had only become aware of his disdain for my manner of doing things when my assistant, Heather, who was working out beautifully, told me that he’d questioned her about my spring reports, which were due by April 15, tax day. He had had the nerve to ask her if my projections were going to be as unrealistic as my winter reports had been, which I had compiled after only a month at HE.

  There had been a companywide roar with the projections I had made. When I assured Jamison that the figures in my projections were reasonable, he came down to give me his personal approval. In order to meet my projections, nearly every department had to pull overtime, and for management that meant late nights and weekends.

  Of course, my actions didn’t win me any friends around the office. However, Jamison had been pleased when only a month after I had released my projections, the company was ahead of schedule, and we were able to cut back on the overtime for those who didn’t want it. The grumbling among the employees quickly wound down, and I came away looking like a genius. I’d increased the sales and production in my department within my first two months at HE, and increased the revenue of the company for the month of January by 40 percent. If I kept this up, HE would be able to count on nearly an additional four million dollars for the quarter.

  I looked up and saw Brendan and Laney walk through the revolving doors, followed by Nate and India.

  “What’s up, Cory? Hey, Nina, you two been here long?” Brendan asked, as he slapped me a soft five that went into a handshake and then a manly hug. The ladies exchanged hellos.

  “Oh, I guess about twenty minutes. Our table should be ready about now. Let’s go in and check.” I turned and led the way. “So, how’s everything going, birthday boy?”

  “Cool, my brother. Real cool. Laney got me some nice gear and Renee bought me the new Jordans.”

  As Nate and India walked up behind us, Nate said, “Wait ’til you see what I got you. You are going to love it.”

  “Yeah, right,” Brendan said. “Probably some more X-rated DVDs.” He laughed as he gave India a hug and shook Nate’s hand.

  Nate had gotten Brendan tickets to see Allen Iverson and the Sixers. They were coming to town to play the Wizards in two weeks, and the tickets were sold out and damn near impossible to come by. Nate had two tickets behind the Sixers bench, and he was going to give Brendan both tickets, because he figured he would want to take Laney.

  The hostess seated the six of us in a comfortable wrap around booth. Brendan and Laney were seated in the middle. Nate took one end, and I took the other. I told Brendan that I hoped that he and Laney wouldn’t need a bathroom break, because I wasn’t getting back up. We joked around for a hot second before our waitress came to our table.

  “Hello, I’m Helen. Welcome to the Cheesecake Factory. Can I get you all a drink while you look over the menu?”

  India suggested that we all share a bottle of wine rather than champagne, since we would be drinking on an empty stomach. It sounded like a good idea to everyone, but we gave the final word to Brendan. He said, “Sounds good to me.”

  “Alright then,” Nate said. “Helen, bring us two bottles of your finest. Whatever it is.”

  Helen held a perplexed look on her face for a second. Then stated humbly, “Sir, our finest would be a French zinfandel…and its $163 per bottle, sir. We do have Moët & Chandon which is about $75, if you prefer.”

  Nate gritted his teeth, but kept his cool. It was Brendan’s birthday, and he wanted everything to go well. He forced a smile as he reached into his pocket. He pulled out a fifty-dollar bill. “Helen, right?” She nodded her head. “Look here, Helen. Take this. This is the tip for the zinfandel. Now get it, and make sure it’s chilled just right. Today is this guy’s birthday.” He pointed at Brendan. “He gets whatever he wants. We’ll worry about the price. You just worry about getting it to us, okay sweetheart?”

  She smiled a cheesy grin and said, “No, I didn’t mean anything by it.” She was still grinning as she reached to accept the fifty. “I just wanted you to know that it was a little pricey. Not many people come in here and order it. That’s all. I’ll go and make sure that they have two chilled bottles.” She sped off before Nate could change his mind about the tip.

  “I’m feeling you, big dog,” Brendan said, to compliment Nate on his manner of dealing with the waitress. Within two minutes someone from the bar was at the table with a cart containing the wine and two fancy ice buckets. He popped both bottles and poured for everyone. People at nearby tables took notice, obviously wondering what we had done to receive such attention. As we sipped the wine, I noticed a look of contentment on Brendan’s face that I hadn’t seen in a long time. Laney, meanwhile, looked as though she was simply thrilled to be there. Her demeanor showed that she was surprised at the level of love our clique had for one another. She did her best to fit not only because she wanted Brendan as her man; she wanted to stay a part of our scene. Occasionally she said something to reveal that the somewhat polished presentation she put on was new for her. I understood how it could have been hard for someone to fit in with us. We were all such a combination of street and class at the same time. Sort of like Whitney Houston. One minute we were showing the best of our intellect and grooming; in the next we were keeping it ghetto. We had all been out together many times, and occasionally she seemed to be trying too hard to fit in with Nina and India. It wasn’t necessary,
though, because both of them had already accepted her as Brendan’s girl. I was also beginning to see that India, as much as Nina, admired Laney’s “semi-fly, semi-homegirl” approach to life. Half of the time Laney came off like someone whose only concern was an aspiration to rise above humble beginnings. Other times she seemed to care less about fitting into the standards of uppity black folks, almost snubbing her nose at others who appeared to be status seekers.

  Laney had a good sense of humor and had us all laughing when she joked about her trip to the hair salon that morning. When the food came, everyone dug in, and it was so good that we all struggled to keep our faces out of our plates long enough to keep the conversation going. We all were enjoying our food immensely, but none of us more than Brendan. He had decided to forgo his diet for the night, and was working on a platter of grilled pork chops, mashed potatoes, and mixed vegetables. He was wondering out loud how he was going to have any room for the marble fudge cheesecake he was already planning to order, when one of the men I had noticed outside of the restaurant by the payphones walked up to the table.

  Again, I wondered why he looked so familiar. When Nate looked away from India and spotted him, he gave a slight grin and extended his hand to the guy.

  “What’s up, Donny?” Nate said enthusiastically.

  “Ain’t too much, man. I’m just out with the fellas getting a bite to eat. What’s going on with you, Nate?”

  “We’re just out celebrating my partner’s birthday.”

  “I heard that,” he said, as he nodded his head to the rest of us and said, “What’s up?” We acknowledged him. Then he continued, “Joe is over there paying the bill.” Donny pointed over toward some other tables. “I’ll tell him that I saw you.” As he walked away, he looked back and took another glance in our direction.

  “Who was that clown?” India asked.

  “That was Donny Clark. He plays reserve point guard for the Wizards,” Nate answered.

  “Yeah, okay. I thought I recognized him. He doesn’t get much time, though, does he?”

  “Nah. He’s like the third string or something. But hell, he’s still getting a couple hundred grand a year for that,” Nate said, while squeezing a lemon slice into his ice water.

  “Nina and I saw him standing outside while we were waiting for our table. He was with some other tall guy.”

  “It was probably Joe Simpson. That’s who he said he was here with,” Nate added.

  Brendan seemed surprised. “I wonder why Joe Simpson is hanging out with a third-string bum like Clark.”

  “Donny is like a flunky to Joe. Joe is pressed to have people around him who ride his dick. To be honest, he gets on my nerves.”

  “Who is Joe?” India asked.

  “He’s the starting forward for the Wizards,” Nina answered. “You know, the one with the gray eyes.”

  “Oh yeah, I know who you talking about now. He does that Nike commercial where he’s playing basketball and a thunderstorm starts, and when everyone else leaves because it’s lightning, he keeps playing, right?” India asked.

  “Yeah, girl.” Nina laughed.

  “What the hell is so damned funny,” I asked. “I know you ain’t sweating that nigga.”

  “Cory, stop being so jealous,” Nina said. “You know I don’t trip off of nobody but you.” Then she squeezed my hand and kissed my cheek.

  Brendan asked Nate to call for the waitress, and when she came Brendan asked her to wrap the rest of his food, but to bring him the fudge cheesecake he had been craving ever since he had been on a diet. No one else wanted dessert, but Nina ordered a slice of cheesecake to go.

  Laney had been particularly quiet ever since Donny had come over to the table, and Nina took enough notice to ask her if everything was all right. She assured Nina and Brendan, who now had seemed to notice her uneasiness, that she was fine.

  “I think I may have eaten too much. I might just need to go to the ladies room, if you will excuse me, Cory,” Laney said, sounding a little more nervous than sick.

  “I think I’ll join you, as a matter of fact,” India added. “Could you let me out, sweetheart?” she said, as she gently nudged Nate’s shoulder.

  Before either Nate or I stood to let the two ladies out, Donny was back at our table with Joe Simpson and another guy, who was too short to be an NBA player.

  “Hey hey, what’s happening player?” Joe said to Nate as he shook his hand. All eyes were on Nate and Joe. The ladies looked as though they were wondering how Nate knew Joe well enough for him to come up to our table. I wasn’t surprised anymore. Nate knew everybody and everybody knew Nate. One night while we were hanging out together in Atlanta, Toni Braxton walked up and kissed him on the lips. I also witnessed Marion Barry giving him a pound and a hug at the Million Man March, but when George Foreman sent a bottle of champagne over to our table one night at the Mirage in Las Vegas, I totally flipped out. After that nothing would ever surprise me.

  “Not much. We’re just finishing up with our birthday celebration for my man Brendan right here.”

  “Oh yeah, happy birthday, my man,” he said, as he reached across the table to shake Brendan’s hand. As soon as he did that, his eyes locked with Laney’s. There was a pause, then Joe exclaimed, “I’ll be damned, I can’t believe this shit. It’s you.”

  “Who are you talking to?” Brendan asked, then realized Joe was staring straight at Laney.

  Joe ignored Brendan and kept talking. “I bet you never thought I’d see your ass again.” There was an evil scowl on his face.

  Brendan looked at Laney’s face. She had the same look that Trina had had when she was busted.

  “I don’t know you, and you don’t know me.” Laney ushered out the words. She wasn’t convincing, though.

  “Don’t even try it, bitch.” Joe took a deep breath, and then said, “If you weren’t here with these people I…I swear I would whup your ass.”

  “Hold up, man. What the fuck is your problem?” Nate stood up. It seemed for a second that some serious shit was about to pop off right then and there.

  “Hey man this…this whore robbed my ass last year.”

  “C’mon, man. Get the fuck out of here,” Nate said.

  “Let me out of this booth, Cory,” Brendan said.

  “Shit, nigga, get out. But I know you aren’t trying to fight over no stripper. Man, I know that ain’t your lady, is it?” Joe asked indignantly.

  “Joe.” Nate placed his hand on his chest, indicating he wanted Joe to back up. “You are making a scene at my table. I’m only going to say this one time. My lady is at this table and this is a birthday celebration. You are going to have to move on with all of that bullshit.” I got up and stood next to Nate.

  “Man, who the fuck are you supposed to be?” asked the shorter guy, whose presence Nate had never acknowledged.

  “What, nigga? You say something?” Nate said, as he glared at the stranger. Nate noticed that the man had taken a defensive stance and clenched his fist, as if to get ready for action. When he didn’t reply, Nate stated emphatically, “And dog, you better unclench your fist.” I noticed people beginning to stare in our direction. I wasn’t sure if it was because Joe Simpson was standing there or if they could actually hear what was going on. Nate continued glaring icily at the shorter guy.

  As the stranger’s bottom lip quivered his hands loosened up. Joe’s tone lightened up. “Nate, man, I ain’t tripping. I’m not trying to disrespect your folks either, but really, that chick…she straight robbed me.” He started talking to Nate while we listened. Laney’s face showed no expression as she sat helplessly pinned in her seat. “Last year, the night after I got traded down here from Philly, I had a little going away party at my crib. One of the players brought four strippers over, and your friend here was one of them. After just about everyone had left the crib, me and three of the other guys paid her and her girlfriend to stay and do a little private afterparty for us. Well, she stayed, and I gave them at least six or seven hundred dollars
apiece for doing it. She and her friend fucked me and my boys all night long.” He paused and looked Laney right in the face. “We had been drinking all night, and when we passed out at like five or six in the morning, those bitches stole a bunch of shit. They emptied everyone’s pockets and took my Rolex and a chain that my father had given me on draft day.”

  Everyone at the table was silent and just looked at Laney in disbelief. We figured he had to be lying. Then Joe added, “But they forgot to take the tape we made of them dancing and fucking all of us. I gave the police a portion of the tape so that they would have a picture of them. If you want to see the tape of your little porno star friend here anytime, just let me know. Nate, you got my number.” Joe just shook his head, then said, “I’ll call the police in Philly and let them know I saw you. I hope you got some good money for the watch.” He glanced down at Nate’s wrist and added, “Nice watch, Nate…watch your back.” Then they walked off and left our table silent. I looked over at Brendan, and if I didn’t know better I would have sworn he was choking on his food. I think he was just trying hard to swallow the worst birthday surprise that anyone could have imagined.

  Chapter 17

  NO ANGEL IN DISGUISE

  There was silence in the car as Brendan sped around the Beltway. He was in a complete funk while his mind raced with images of Laney turning tricks with the Sixers’s starting lineup. The thought of it was making him sick. There was a churning in his stomach that didn’t come from eating bad food. It was from getting burned and lied to by someone he had been starting to care about and believe in for the second time in less than a year. He felt like such a complete idiot. He had been going on and on for the past four months to Cory and Nate about how special Laney was. Only to find out that she was special to a lot of people for the wrong reasons.

  A damned stripper! Brendan thought. And she’ll sell that ass if the price is right. I can’t believe this. How could she do this shit to me? Shit, she helped me get into shape, and everything. Maybe that’s why she is in such good shape. All that dirty dancing, I bet. That must have been why she always has plenty of money. How else could she move into her apartment in December and have it completely furnished within two weeks? I know she must still be stripping. Probably every nigga I know has seen her naked ass. Man, why does this always happen to me? Brendan glanced over at Laney. She was looking straight ahead. Look at her. She hasn’t said a word. No apologies, no nothing. I should stop the car and kick her ass out on the Beltway. Brendan knew he wouldn’t, though. It wasn’t his style. His mind was racing. I never dogged anyone, and still I get this shit every time. Maybe I should be like Nate. That way, if one of my women messes up, I’ll already have another one. He tried to break his train of thought as the anger and pain began to force a lump in his throat. He swallowed hard again, and before he knew it, tears had welled up in his eyes. He didn’t want to wipe them and let Laney know how badly she’d crushed him. The car was zooming toward the Kenilworth Avenue exit before Laney attempted to break the silence.