He was on my mind, because his mother, who had always been kind to me, called me a few days after my booty call with Christian. I missed the call, but she left a message asking me to call her back. Like I said, she was always kind to me, but we really hadn’t been in touch with each other in a couple of years. For her to be calling, something serious had to be going on. Something serious that probably involved Kevin. The only reason I didn’t prosecute him for misusing my social security number was because she begged me not to. If she wanted me to do another favor for her regarding him, I was going to have to disappoint her this time.
I sighed as I dialed her number and closed my eyes when I heard her greeting.
“Denise! Thank you for calling me back!” She sounded so happy and sincere, like her son never ruined my life.
“Hi, Ms. Jerline. What’s up?”
“What’s up? No, ‘How are you?’”
“Well, you sound great, but okay…how are you?”
“I’m wonderful since Kevin got back in town.”
Hell, I didn’t even know he’d left town. Didn’t know and didn’t care. Therefore, I didn’t bother responding to her statement.
“Okay, you’re still angry at him, I see,” she said.
“Wouldn’t you be?”
“I don’t know.”
“Umph, well, I hope you never know what it feels like for someone to do to you what Kevin did to me.”
“Well, honey, that’s why I’m calling. He wants to talk to you about making amends.”
This was the same bullshit Trevia’s ex tried to pull on her, that “I’ma do better for you” crap that almost cost her her relationship with Nyles, who was now her husband. Christian might not have been the man of my dreams, but he was sort of my man, and I wasn’t going to let Kevin’s ass ruin that for me.
So, I said, “Yeah, right. Look, Ms. Jerline, it was good to hear your voice and everything, but you can tell Kevin if he really wants to make amends, he can put a check in the mail to me at my mom’s address. We don’t need to talk. I don’t need to see him. If he’s sincere, it won’t matter if we ever see each other again.”
She held the phone for a few seconds before saying, “If that’s the way you want it, I’ll let him know.”
“Thank you.”
After we ended the call, my mind started playing and replaying images of Kevin and me having some really nasty sex, like this one time we 69’d in the back of his car while it was parked on the bank’s parking lot during my lunch break. Just talking to his mother did that to my brain. Seeing him would’ve been a disaster.
I sat in my living room with thoughts of Kevin for an hour until I called Christian to come give me some relief.
*****
At work, my mind was everywhere except inside the walls of my office. There was a time when climbing the ranks at Union Central was a major goal for me. I had this plan to eventually become VP, stacking my paper along the way, and when it came time to retire, I’d be able to do it in style. Maybe travel the world like Greer’s parents. I thought about what Greer and Trevia had both said about me making a change and maybe leaving Dallas. I even thought about what that tattoo guy said when he asked me why I was here at this job if I couldn’t help anyone. I’m not sure why those words had an impact on me, but they did.
As the day wore on, I was much more aware of what was happening around me than usual. I paid closer attention and realized how many of my appointments were with black people to whom I was having to explain why their loans had been denied. The scale was grossly unbalanced ten-to-one if I compared black folks to any other race. And it was the same for the other loan officers, judging from the expressions on the faces that left their offices. What was I doing here? How was this job helping anyone besides my bank account?
That night, before I laid my head on my pillow, I texted Greer:
Me: Hey, when u get a chance, call me. I wanna talk about possibly moving 2 Houston.
Greer: Seriously????
Me: Yes.
5
I was sitting at my desk at work when I got the call, and as soon as the shrill voice filled my ear, I regretted answering my cell.
“Girl, what the hell is going on?!” my mother shrieked, in response to my hello.
“What?” I asked, eying the flurry of activity going on across the hall from me. Some of my co-workers were huddled in the doorway of another office.
“Why is there a letter here for you from Kevin’s sorry ass? You better-the-hell not be fooling around with him again. You gonna end up broke with your tail up in my house again if you are!”
I sighed and fixed my eyes on my cluttered desk. Paperwork and more paperwork. “Hell, no I’m not messing with him. I’m not a fool, Mama.”
“Mm-hmm, you probably thought you weren’t a fool when you married him. See, I know men are no good, that’s why I never married again after your two-timing daddy died.”
“I thought it was because you didn’t want to lose your widow’s pension.”
“There you go with that smart-ass mouth of yours. If you know so much, how you let your husband make such a fool of you?”
“Mama, I gotta go.”
“That’s what I thought. Be sure to come get this letter. And stay outta my freezer when you do.”
I ended the call and watched the huddle until it disbanded, wondering what gossip they were circulating this time.
*****
“I’m thinking about moving here to Houston, permanently,” I said a few days later. I was lying in Christian’s bed with him spooned behind me, his arm resting on my waist as he softly kissed my bare back.
“For real?” he asked.
“Yeah. I’ve been thinking maybe it’s time for me to make a change. I’ve lived in Dallas all my life except for during college.” I rolled over and faced him. “What do you think?”
He smiled. “I think it’s the best news I’ve heard in a long time. Be even better news if you were my woman, officially.”
“You’re getting there. I just wanna take this slow, Christian. I shouldn’t have rushed you into sex in the first place.”
He gave me a slight frown. “You make it sound like you forced me to do it.”
“Well, you obviously weren’t ready, because you still had feelings for ole girl.”
“Denise, I told you that was a mistake. I want to be with you.”
“I know...just give me some time, Christian. Maybe me moving here will get us closer to being a real couple.”
“Okay, ’Nise.”
Christian left for Chicago the next morning, a Sunday morning, for a trip to some car show or something. So, I hit the road in my Cherokee and made my way back to Dallas early that morning feeling good about the possibility of moving to Houston and making a new start. I was humming along with The Weeknd’s latest CD with a satisfied smile on my face. I had enjoyed being with Christian, and living closer to him would certainly make things more convenient. Maybe I could eventually move in with him. I loved his house!
I was only twenty miles outside of Dallas when my back, passenger tire blew, scaring me half to death. I thought about calling my mom or her Friend, then decided I didn’t want to hear her mouth and pulled out my insurance card to call the roadside service number since I had no idea how to change a tire. Sad, I know, but true. I had to wait forty-five minutes, during which time Christian called to let me know he’d made it to Chicago and then panicked when I explained my situation to him. He offered to call a friend of his, but I told him the roadside service was on the way. He stayed on the phone with me until they arrived. Maybe he really was a keeper, after all.
I hung up with Christian when the guy from the wrecker service parked behind me and approached my vehicle. He was a big man with a sexy walk. I smiled as I rolled my window down. The smile disappeared when I saw his face.
“Hi, ma’am. You need some assis—” He stopped dead in his tracks when he got a glimpse of my face.
“I cannot believe th
is,” I muttered. It was the angry tattoo guy from the bank.
Ignoring my statement, he cleared his throat. “Do you need some assistance, Ms—” he checked the papers in his hand, “Buhari?”
“I do, but not from you.”
He sighed as he leaned in close to my window with his hand on the roof of my truck. “Look, this is my job. I’m here to help you if you need it.”
“Oh, really? Are you sure? I mean, the way you went off on me in my office...”
He stood upright and looked down at his paperwork again. “You have a flat tire, right? If you have a spare, I can change it for you.”
“So you can mess up on purpose to get even with me for not breaking the rules and giving you a loan? No, I’m good.”
“You are? Because people usually call for roadside assistance when they need help. If you need help, I’ll give it to you. I’m not tryna lose my job over that mess at the bank. I couldn’t get the loan,” he shrugged, “so I’ma work and save my money to make my dream happen. That means I need this job. I’m not about to lose it messing up your vehicle.”
I sat there and stared out the windshield in silence.
“Fine. I’ll mark you down as refusing help. I’ll need you to sign—”
“The spare is on the back gate.”
He folded his paperwork up and slid it into the back pocket of his navy-blue work pants. “All right. You got a jack?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Turned out I did have one. So, I stood out in the cool, early spring air and watched him change my tire as if I had a clue whether or not he was doing it right. Squatting next to my vehicle, his arms looked powerful as his muscles flexed in his short-sleeve, beige shirt. He was just as gorgeous in his work clothes as he had been in a suit.
When he was finished, he said, “You really need a new set of tires. All of them are pretty much bald.”
I mumbled, “Okay. Thank you, uh...”
He rubbed his hands on the thighs of his pants. “Hasaan.”
“Yes. Hasaan. Um, you need me to sign something?”
He nodded as he reached back and pulled the paperwork and pen from his pocket. “Yes, uh—”
My cell jangled in my hand, interrupting him. It was Christian. I held up a finger as I took the call. After reassuring Christian that I was fine, I returned my attention to Hasaan and his paperwork. As I signed it, I said, “You know, there are other ways to get the money you need to start your business. Crowdfunding is a popular option. There are a lot of crowdfunding sites online, and signing up with most of them is free. It gives people a chance to donate to your business. You set a goal, and if you want, you can offer different prizes as an incentive for them to donate.”
His eyes lit up. “Wow, um…thanks. I’ll look into that.”
“If you give me your email address, I can send you more information and some links to some sites.”
“Yeah, that’d be great. Give me a sec.” He trotted back to his wrecker and returned a minute later with a business card. It was for the wrecker service, but he had scrawled his email address on the back.
“Okay, got it. Thanks again for your help,” I said.
He flashed a smile at me that made my knees quiver. “No problem. Like I said, it’s my job. And, uh…I’m sorry for going off on you in your office…”
“You should be.” With that, I climbed into my truck and had a smooth ride home.
6
If I timed it right, I could slip in and out of my mother’s house without having to see her. She still sold plates on Fridays and Saturdays, but no longer delivered them, so those days I knew she’d be home taking care of her customers. What she needed was a restaurant, but she’d never bothered to take that step. And since Friend paid her bills, I guess she figured she didn’t need to. On Sunday mornings and Wednesday evenings, her mean ass was at church. On Thursday nights, she went to her friend, Donna’s, house to play cards. So those were the days I usually tried to go by there. This Thursday night, I used my key and slipped into the quiet house to find Kevin’s letter on the kitchen counter where she always left my mail. Then I decided to check her deep freezer. I didn’t even really want anything from it; it was just a habit for me to take some of her food with me. When I found one of her apple caramel cheesecakes in there, I knew I’d hit the jackpot!
“What I tell you about digging in my damn freezer?!”
I stood up so quick my head spun. What was she doing home so early?
“Put whatever that is back right now, heifer!” my mother yelled.
Shit.
I dropped the cheesecake back into place and closed the freezer, then turned around to face the short, round woman I strongly resembled. “What you doing here so early?”
“Hell, last time I checked, I lived here and you didn’t. How you gon’ ask me some shit like that?”
“I’m just saying, isn’t this still your card-playing night?”
“It is, but Donna is out of town this week. Up in Seattle visiting her son. Wish I could visit your ass somewhere instead of coming home to find you with your ass turned up, digging in my freezer stealing my merchandise. What were you tryna take? The cheesecake? I’m selling slices of that tomorrow.”
“Sorry. You know it’s one of my favorites.”
“Everything I cook is one of your favorites. That’s why your ass is so wide.”
“Yours is wider.”
“I can cook. I deserve to have a wide ass.”
“I can cook, too.”
“Not like me.”
My mom was such a bitch. Seriously.
“I know, because I got tired of you cursing me out when you were teaching me,” I countered.
She flapped her hand at me. “Whatever. I been cursing since before you was born. Your ass oughta be used to it by now. Did you get that letter Kevin’s sorry ass sent you?”
“Yeah.”
“I hope the hell you don’t get back with him.”
“Mama, come on. Do I look that stupid? The only reason I came and got this letter is because you told me to. I’m not even gonna read it. I’m just gonna tear it up.”
“Shit, don’t do that. Last time I did that, I tore a twenty up, too.”
“You think Kevin sent me some money?” I burst into laughter.
She smiled. “That would be some shit, wouldn’t it? Look, just check the envelope before you get to ripping.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“It’s some chicken spaghetti in the refrigerator. You can have it if you want it.”
She knew damn well I wanted it.
*****
I was supposed to be working, but instead, I was staring down at the screen of my phone re-reading Hasaan Peterson’s very nice email for about the tenth time:
Hey, thanks for sending me those links. I really appreciate your help. And I apologize again for going off on you. I realize the decision wasn’t really yours. When I get my shop open, I’ll be sure to invite you to the grand opening.
Thanks, again.
Hasaan Peterson
I decided to send him a reply:
Hi, there. I’m so glad the information I sent was helpful. And yes, please let me know when you get your shop open. I’d love to check it out.
Denise Buhari
No sooner than I closed the email app did the intercom on my office phone beep. “Denise, Deborah would like to see you in her office.”
Deborah Lara was my direct supervisor, so I grabbed a notepad and a pen and made my way to her office expecting to receive a new assignment of some sort that would probably involve more work for the same pay. Or maybe I was getting promoted. I damn sure deserved it. With a higher position, it would be even easier to find a job in Houston. Of course, it would be messed up to accept a new position and then quit. But then again, I could always transfer to a branch in Houston, too. There were so many options—
“Have a seat, Denise,” she said warmly.
I sat across from her ready to a
bsorb whatever she needed to tell me. And after work, I was going to go and buy a plate from my mom since it was Friday. Her roasted chicken was on the menu.
“You know that we have acquired Nation’s First...”
I nodded. “Yes. It’s the talk of the bank.”
“Yes...well, in order to merge our two institutions, there are going to have to be some changes.”
“Okay...”
“We had to agree to keep on a percentage of their employees, and we’re also going to close some of our branches so that we can make better use of their existing buildings, because to be frank, their properties and equipment are better than ours.”
With raised eyebrows, I said, “Really?”
“Yes...and this branch will be one of the ones to close.”
My stomach clenched a little. “What? But this is one of the largest branches!” And it was close to my apartment. I really didn’t want to have to drive across town to some other branch every day.
“Yes, but there’s a Nation’s branch nearby where some of us will go.”
“Some?”
“Yes, and the rest will unfortunately be let go.”
“Oooh.” Well, that sucked for someone.
“Denise, I’m sorry, but they’re letting you go. Effective immediately.”
I frowned, sure that I’d heard her wrong. “What? But I’ve been here longer than most of the other people at this branch.”
“I know...but there are some Nation’s employees with more seniority than you. They stay. You don’t.”
Real Love Page 2