by Tiana Laveen
“It looks and smells real good. Thank you, baby.”
“You’re welcome. The beer is for after the session. Eat up.” He rose up and grabbed a couple of glasses and filled them with filtered ice water. He sat one beside her plate as she started on her soup, then returned to his seat. They ate quietly. There was no music, no small talk, just the sound of chewing and spoons stirring. Every now and again, he added a little pepper to his soup until it was practically all gone.
“We never really got to talk about what I wanted to discuss with you before. We, uh, kinda got distracted.” He burst out laughing as the image of donuts and them frolicking about under the sheets took center stage again in his mind.
“We did! That’s right; you did tell me there was something you wanted to tell me. You didn’t mention it on the phone last night or the day before, either.”
“Because I wanted to say it in person.” He swallowed, extinguished his cigarette and reached for her hand. She placed it in his palm as he looked into her eyes. “I know it seems old fashioned, maybe even a little childish, but… I wanted to ask you, formally, if you’d be my lady?”
Those cheekbones plumped again and a ruddy glow cast across her face.
“Well, aren’t you the gentleman?” She took a sip of her water, her eyes a bit glossy as she returned his smile. “Yes, you already know the answer, or at least you should. So, it seems, we’re dating exclusively. That’s good because I don’t just serve my finest plasticware to anyone!”
He laughed. “I thought this was store bought.”
“It is. But I got Panera’s VIP card.”
“They’ve got a VIP card?”
“Nope. I’m just talking shit.” They burst out laughing. “I’m in a silly mood today. You’ll have to excuse me, Kane. Some fool on my route put a bunch of plastic flamingos all over his yard and apparently some of the local teenagers had a go at him and beheaded them all.” Kane burst out laughing so hard, he almost fell out of his chair. “Ever since I saw that, I’ve been a giggle box, tickled pink, just like the flamingos.” Just then, his phone rang. The air was sucked out of the room, the good time squelched, squeezed and killed in a nano-second. “All right now,” the woman stated sternly. “Don’t choke on me now. It’s just a phone call.”
He could feel the blood practically draining from his body, pooling at his feet. His legs were heavy, his stomach turned. The phone kept ringing.
“I don’t believe this shit. Ain’t you the same man that went skiing down a big ass slope and went up against a big-time preacher? Told him to go to Hell? You’ve been going against the grain. You ain’t scared of a damn thing except this and it’s big as all outdoors. The Devil is a lie. Now you pick that damn phone up, Kane! It’s a therapist, not the Boogeyman!”
“Hello?” he answered, his eyes glued to hers. She was breathing for him. She was his air. His mouth. She was his heartbeat and the blood running through his veins. Jessica slid her hand across his and patted it.
“Hi. Is this Mr. Westbrook?” A woman appeared on the FaceTime call. She was older, with dark brown, chin length hair sprinkled with silver streaks that framed her face. She sported a calm, kind smile.
“It is. Yes, this is Kane Westbrook.”
“This is Dr. Morgan.”
“Hello, Dr. Morgan. I have a friend, well, my girlfriend sittin’ here with me for support. Is that all right?”
“Kane, if having her there makes you feel more at ease then I am perfectly fine with that.” Kane turned the phone screen towards Jessica who was caught slurping her soup.
She burst out laughing and waved. “Hi! I’m so sorry, Dr. Morgan. I didn’t think I’d be makin’ an appearance tonight. Just finishing my dinner.”
“No problem,” the doctor stated in a cheery tone. “I may ask you some questions actually too, okay, if need be? Is that all right, Kane?”
“Yes, it’s fine by me.”
“Perfect. Now, let’s begin…”
Jessica tried to remain as quiet as possible as she listened to what she’d describe as basic information-gathering or confirmation of details. Preliminary stuff, such as his birthdate, age, address, and so on. He’d propped his phone against a wire fruit basket on the kitchen table.
As quietly as she could, she rose from her seat and topped off both their waters before reclaiming her seat.
A strange feeling came over her as the therapist’s comforting voice remained stable and true – it came across as a sense of peace tinged with the promise of pending doom. Running her fingertips along her arm, she kept her poker face. This was the wrong time to look apprehensive, and maybe undermining the little courage he felt. Her man needed her support.
“…Thank you for that information. I did see in the notes what you’re referring to,” the therapist stated. “So, many times, psychotherapists will start from the beginning. They will delve into childhood and build their way up. In your case, if you could just humor me, I want to start further down the road and work our way around.”
“Okay.”
“Tell me about yourself and Lamont, Kane. Tell me about this friendship.”
Kane’s complexion turned ghostly. He drank some water, clearly buying time.
“He was… my best friend. We met in college… University of North Texas. Played football there. North Texas Mean Green.” He swallowed, nervous.
“Kane, do you always respond this way when mentioning Lamont? I can see you are fighting emotions as you discuss your friend with me.”
“No, not always.”
“What makes this time different?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Think about it. I need you to stay in the moment and think about it. I need you to examine the emotions, not just feel them. You’ve been feeling them daily and that hasn’t been sufficient in your case.”
He lit a cigarette.
“I guess it’s because I want this time to be different, Dr. Morgan. I don’t believe it will be, so I’m frustrated.”
“We just started. Give yourself additional time.”
“Okay.”
“Let’s go back to Lamont. I want you to describe him to me in great detail. Physically first, then personality wise.”
Curls of smoke eddied from Kane’s mouth.
“About six-two… cornerback… wide body, muscular. He was Black. Dark complexion, tatted up, huge smile, big teeth.” He laughed, melancholy clinging to the sound. “Short black hair… pierced ears but he never wore ’em much… a show off, loud. So damn funny. We were a lot alike. Similar upbringin’ ’cept his father didn’t own a business. The man had a good job at a petroleum company. He had four sisters and two brothers. He—”
“Stay on him. Right now, I just want to focus on Lamont, not his family, okay?”
“All right. Uh, let’s see, well, he loved music. He was the only Black guy I knew who liked country music, too.” He smiled. “I listened to everything, and we had that in common. He liked to travel. He was a ladies’ man… just uh, uh a damn good man.”
Silence stretched for a few moments.
“Okay, very good, Kane. Now, I want you to tell me something he said to you that you’ve never forgotten. Perhaps an incident that was significant.”
“He told me a lot of things actually that stuck with me. I remember one time right before a game, before I really knew him that well, he overheard me on the phone talkin’ to my mother. My grandmother had just died and my mother was real upset. I was upset, too, but I was tryna keep her calm. She started talking about leaving the house to come to my game. I told ’er not to worry about coming to my game, to take care of herself ’cause she would be no good to anyone if she wasn’t good to herself first. See, my mother came to most of my games, rarely missed any but that wasn’t the point. It would feel strange playin’ football while my grandmother was somewhere… dead. It would be strange to know she was sittin’ out there in the bleachers, watching me while this was going on, too. I then went into the locker room, think
in’ I was alone, and broke down.
“I loved my grandmother, and wasn’t sure how I was going to even play that night. There was a lot of pressure on me though. See, I was a quarterback and I’m not tryna brag, but I was damn good and without me, our chances of losing that night especially would’ve skyrocketed. I didn’t know he’d overheard the call. He came in after me, tapped my shoulder, and said, “You’re a cool ass dude. If you play badly tonight, don’t worry, I’ve got you. I promise to help make you look good. Nobody will have to even know. If you don’t want to play, let’s brainstorm real quick on a reason why so we can tell the team. I’ll vouch for it.”
The therapist smiled and nodded.
“And that’s what he did. See, there was a pride issue, you know? I couldn’t let my teammates see me like that. He understood that. I was never a crier, a whiner, none of that shit. If you got hit hard, you gritted your teeth and cursed, but you didn’t dare let a fucking tear slip from your eye… Sorry for the language.”
“That’s fine, Kane. Continue.”
“I know it seems silly now. There’s nothin’ wrong with grieving the death of a relative, especially one you were close to and loved. But this was a big game and even though coach may have said he understood, it would’ve been a blow. We went out there and kicked LA Tech’s ass. And he did what he promised to do. We’d been friends ever since.”
“The night of the accident, what were you and Lamont wearing?”
“I’m not tryna question your expertise, Dr. Morgan, but what does that have to do with this?”
“A lot, actually. It makes you focus.” He took a drag of his cigarette and put it down on the ashtray.
“It was kinda chilly that night. Well, chilly for Dallas.” He laughed nervously. “So, Lamont had on some blue jeans, a black turtleneck, a thick bomber coat ’cause it was like forty degrees that night. He had on some like Timbs. No… no… he had on his Jordans. I had on jeans, too, and a button-down black shirt, I believe. I had my crucifix chain on and my hair was about four or five inches longer then, so I had it tucked behind my ears. Oh, I almost forgot… Lamont had on a couple of gold chains, too. There were three of us all together. Lamont, me, and Dennis.”
“Where were you all headed?”
“A house party hosted by a mutual friend.”
“Take me through everything that happened that night.”
“We drove up to the house. Music was loud, rap music. Parked. We were all excited. The old team hadn’t been together in years. That’s basically what it was, a reunion for old college buddies. Lamont and I had smoked a little weed on the way over.” He swallowed and frowned, as if still filled with regret over that, too. “We got in there and had a good time, catching up with people. I had a girlfriend at the time, so mind you, this was over two years ago and there’d been some smoking and a little drinking on my end, so some of the details are a little fuzzy, but I’ll try my best.”
“I understand.”
“So, as I was saying, I was in a relationship. I wasn’t trying to get with any of the ladies there but Lamont was. He was single, had just gone through a breakup actually. I guess he approached the wrong chick that night. I think it was someone he even used to date briefly back in college. Anyway, the shit hit the fan ’cause her boyfriend was there and a big argument happened between the two of ’em when he saw Lamont pushing up on her. Some of our other old teammates were there and a big ass fight broke out. It got settled down, but Lamont wouldn’t stop.”
“Lamont wouldn’t stop what?”
“He kept going off! It was over, it had died down, but he kept fucking with the guy! I didn’t understand why. The night was being ruined on account of this. I tried to calm him down, tell him it wasn’t worth it, but he kept getting upset. We ended up gettin’ kicked out because someone had called the police after he went and socked the guy in the face. That wasn’t like Lamont! He was a good man. He never started any shit. I couldn’t believe it, and then he and I started arguing, too. We got into it real bad. The three of us got back in the car to leave. He and I continued to argue in the car. It’s like he was in some sorta combative mood. I have no idea what was going on with him. Well, I didn’t at the time.”
“At the time? Why was Lamont in a bad mood that evening?”
Kane sat back in his seat. He retreated inside of himself, disappearing like a light blocked by a gang of shadows.
“I, uh… I don’t feel like doing this today. We need to reschedule.”
“Kane, come on, you’re doing well. You can do this,” the therapist urged.
“I said I don’t feel like doin’ this today! Shit!” His voice boomed, rocking the entire kitchen. Jessica quickly grabbed the phone as Kane jumped out of his chair and stormed off.
“Dr. Morgan, please give me a minute or two. Let me see if I can talk to him.”
“Okay, but if he can’t finish the session, please let him know that it will be about three weeks before we can try again. My schedule is booked.”
“I understand.” She placed the phone down and found him sitting in the dining room, forehead pressed against the table. He trembled like a leaf. Standing behind him, she placed her hands on his shoulder. “You get your ass up and get back on that phone,” she said between gritted teeth.
He slowly turned towards her, a blacker than black hatred brewing in his eyes.
Is that for himself? Lamont? Or me?
“You need to leave, Jessica.” He pressed his forehead to the table again.
“I ain’t going no damn where. I coulda been in my bed watchin’ Power or some shit, reading a nasty book while stuffin’ my fat face with cookies, well, sugar-free wafers. Down five pounds, could put them all back on tonight due to the temptations of a Keebler elf! You got my emotions all crazy now too, but, I’m going to see this through, just like you’re going to see this through. I’m not messin’ up my diet if I can help it. You know why? Because you mean way more to me than what I’m comfortable with!” She kept on talking to the back of his head. “Life ain’t comfortable all the time, Kane. If it was, you’d never grow! Now you get your tall, hairy, sexy ass up, Mr. Quarterback of the Dallas Mean Greens, and get back on that phone! You talk about Lamont and tell this woman what the hell happened so we can fuck and I can go home! I got work in the mornin’. Some of us can’t stay at home all damn day painting walls, smoking and listening to 1998 Rap classics!”
The man faced her once more, eyes wide, then burst out laughing. She wasn’t smiling though. She meant what the hell she said. Less than a minute later, he dragged himself back into the kitchen and sat down. Snatching the phone, the man looked at the doctor on the screen. Jessica stood there with her hand on her hip and lips twisted. If he made one false move, there was going to be a football skirmish alright.
Anything worth having is never easy to obtain…
“I’m back.”
“I see. Thank you for coming back, Kane, and thank you Jessica for encouraging him to return.”
Jessica opened the refrigerator door and found a nice orange to peel. She picked at the succulent citrus fruit as Kane got back on track.
“My last question was, what was Lamont angry about?”
Kane gulped the last of his water, leaned forward, and clasped his hands.
“After the accident, at the funeral, I found out from his… his cousin, that… uh…” Kane put his head in his hands and rocked. Jessica set the fruit down and started to rub on his back, soothing him. When he looked up, the vein in the middle of his forehead was straining against the skin. “He’d lost his job… just found out his mama had cancer a week prior and…he had a baby on the way with his ex. His house was in foreclosure and he owed a lot of money for an investment that had fallen through.
“He was under a lot of stress, but Lamont never asked anyone for help. We talked practically every day and all of that time I only knew about his mother, but all that other stuff – he didn’t speak a word of it! He pretended he was still going to wo
rk. He’d been laid off four months earlier! He knew I coulda helped him, given him something to tide him over. I had a successful business and he was like a brother to me. But he pretended everything was just fine. I coulda made things right!” Slow tears streamed down his face. “He ain’t trust me enough to tell me the truth! I think that night was the final straw.” Kane threw up his hands. “He felt like he was battin’ a thousand. Everything was goin’ to shit in a handbasket.”
“Take me back to the accident… So he’s driving, and you’re arguing. What is happening inside the car and around you?”
“I don’t remember everything we said to one another. Stupid stuff no doubt, but we were both hollerin’. I told him that he was an asshole for how he’d responded to that guy and he accused me of taking up for them just because the lady and the guy were White. He said it was racist what was happening and I told him it wouldn’t have mattered if they were Chinese, Indian, Black or White. He was wrong and instead of apologizing and taking it like a man, he wanted to act stupid and now our night was ruined on account of him. We were slingin’ insults in each direction. All of a sudden he said, ‘All of you Whites stick together’, and I told him I was tired of the race card. Our friend in the back, Dennis, I think fell asleep at some point because he stopped tryna break up our argument after a while. Lamont was still going off. I got quiet because I could feel myself wanting to swing on him. He was saying some real hurtful shit.
“Like I’ve said so many times though, I no longer really recall everything he said… To me, that’s not even what’s important anymore.” The therapist nodded. “We both got quiet. You could cut the tension with a knife. Then… I don’t even know what happened. Maybe he saw something in the street. We were travelling the back roads so it was pretty dark, but he swerved and ended up crashing into a tree. Because we were on an embankment by that point, the car began to roll… I heard screaming. I felt pain… immense pain… Woke up hours later in the hospital after surgery. Was told my best friend was dead. A part of me died that day, too.”
