by La Jill Hunt
Amanda’s reassuring reaction made her feel a little less awkward. She’d probably had to handle plenty of emotional breakdowns in her line of work.
“I guess I did,” Sylvia said, reaching into her purse and fumbling for the pack of Kleenex. She pulled one of the tissues out along with a compact mirror.
“Listen, I would love to sit down and talk with you and Garry if you’re willing. Or maybe even just you by yourself if you’d feel more comfortable. Either way is fine,” Amanda said.
As she opened the small mirror, Sylvia looked at the woman staring back at her, eyes red and swollen, face full of worry and stress, and she hardly recognized her. This was not how she expected life to be. She should have been finalizing plans for her vow renewal, securing reservations with their travel agent for the multiple-destination trip to Europe they planned to take after dropping Peyton off at college, and looking forward to being an empty nester with Garry. Instead, she was now considering becoming a parent and fighting for custody of a child who didn’t even want to live with her and possibly facing a divorce. It was too much, and she didn’t know how she was going to handle any of it. Maybe Lynne had been right when she suggested that she hadn’t tried everything. There was one more thing she hadn’t tried.
“I’d like that,” Sylvia told Amanda. “When is your next appointment?”
Chapter 9
Tricia
“Congratulations, Tricia.”
“I saw your son’s team on the news.”
“State champs, that’s huge.”
It seemed as if everyone at Tricia’s job heard about the game. She spent most of the week thanking people she rarely spoke to and barely knew. For the past three years, she’d worked as an admin at a small accounting firm. Her workspace was located in the back of the office, tucked away from everyone else, which she enjoyed. It made avoiding social situations and meaningless conversations with coworkers easier for her to do. She was also able to work undisturbed. Her desk was where she would remain from the time she arrived at work until she’d venture out for lunch alone at whatever nearby restaurant she chose for the day. Tricia was a loner, and thankfully, most of the people she worked with recognized and respected that, including her boss. She didn’t bother anyone, and they don’t bother her, not even to include her in the occasional office celebrations for birthdays, baby showers, et cetera, unless it was the only major one, which was the company Christmas party. Tricia came to work to do just that: work and collect a check, not make friends. She arrived on time, did her job, kept it professional, and went home.
Even though she was somewhat annoyed, she managed to remain pleasant in her responses to everyone who mentioned Tank’s basketball victory. Her son had been featured on the local news and all over social media. He wasn’t the only one. Titus also made an appearance when they showed the brief video footage of the brawl. Luckily, his name wasn’t mentioned, and the film was so grainy and fast that none of the men were recognizable. That didn’t stop her from watching it over and over, trying to figure out exactly what prompted his participation in the altercation. She still didn’t understand. But she’d resolved to accept his explanation of attempting to break up the fight and somehow getting caught up in the mayhem. She also accepted that his enforcing the punishment they’d discussed for Tank was not going to happen either. It seemed to be business as usual in their household.
“The season is over, Titus. He’s not supposed to be going anywhere,” she said when he strolled into their bedroom after eleven o’clock. He and Tank had just arrived home fifteen minutes earlier. “I told him to be home by four o’clock.”
“He wasn’t out having fun, Tricia. He hit the weight room and the court after school. Regular season is over, but he still has to be ready for the game next month. You do realize that being selected for the All-American team is the biggest opportunity of his life, right? He’ll be playing with and against the nation’s top players,” Titus said as he undressed and grabbed a pair of shorts and a T-shirt to put on after he showered for bed.
“That’s what you said about the state championship game, Titus. It was the biggest game of his life. He has to have some kind of consequences for his action. He’s around here keeping the same routine, and you’re helping him. What the hell?”
“His car is parked, and he’s not driving. The boy is going to school and practice, that’s all. What more do you want?” Titus shrugged.
Tricia stared at him. “Tell him he can’t play. Isn’t that what a punishment is? Missing out on something you really want to do?”
Titus stared with a look of disbelief. “That ain’t happening. Every college basketball scout in the country will be at that game. He’s gonna be right there playing.”
“Why? He’s already got plenty of scholarship offers. He doesn’t need any more. At this point, he just needs to pick a school,” Tricia pointed out.
Titus shook his head and walked across the bedroom floor toward the bathroom. “And he will, after he plays in this All-American Game. Calm down, Tricia. Tank and I have a plan for his college future, the same plan he and I have been working on for the past seven years. I get it, you’re pissed. He needs to be punished, and I have his keys, he can’t drive. That’s fine for now. That’s punishment enough for right now.”
“Says who?” Tricia called after him.
“We’ll figure it out,” Titus said before closing the bathroom door.
Later that night, she was half asleep when she felt his arm groping for her. She moved closer to the edge of the bed. “Stop. We took care of your needs last week, remember?”
“Cool,” Titus said and rolled over. There used to be a time where he would whine and complain when Tricia would reject him in bed. Now it seemed as if he’d finally gotten used to it. She had no problem fulfilling her sexual duties one or twice a month, which mostly occurred when she happened to be in the mood. Still, Titus would still try every so often, and rarely, if ever, would she oblige. Sex with her husband was satisfying, but she just felt as if it was too much work at times and she would much rather be asleep.
* * *
As Tricia sat at her desk, deciding where to treat herself for lunch, her cell phone rang with a call from a number she didn’t recognize. It was the third time whoever it was had called, and they didn’t leave a message. She decided that if they called again, she would block the number.
“Heading out?” Mr. Dolbert, her boss, stopped at her desk and asked.
“Yes, sir.” Tricia stood and nodded as she reached for her purse.
“Okay. I was wondering if you’ll be taking any additional vacation days. I know you have a few scheduled in a couple of weeks, but I’m sure you’ll be traveling to watch your son play in the All-American Game. I just want to make sure that you let HR know in case we need to get a temp in,” Mr. Dolbert said.
Tricia shrugged. “I hadn’t planned on going, honestly. So no.”
The look Mr. Dolbert gave her was the exact same one Titus had given her the night before when she suggested Tank couldn’t play in the game. “Uh, well, uh, all right then.”
“Thanks for double checking, though.” Tricia shrugged. “I’ll be back in an hour.”
“Okay.”
Tricia hadn’t even thought about going to the game, which was being held in Atlanta. Her nerves could hardly handle the anxiety and crowd of the state championship she was guilted into attending. Attending one even bigger was definitely something she didn’t want to do. Just the thought of it made her uneasy: the crowd, the traffic, the chaos.
By the time she arrived at her SUV and climbed in, her pulse was racing, and she had to take deep breaths. As her body slowly began to calm, Tricia realized that although she was hungry, there was something else that she desired way more than food. She wanted to shop.
The mall was located less than ten minutes from the office. As she walked into the entrance of Saks, she calculated how much time she had to split between the shoe department and designer bags
and still be able to grab something from either the food court or a drive-through on the way back to work. She would still be a few minutes late, but she knew Mr. Dolbert really wouldn’t care. He probably wouldn’t even notice her tardiness if she timed it so that she arrived after he’d gone to lunch himself.
“Can I help you?” a saleswoman asked.
Tricia held up a black Kenneth Cole flat and asked, “Do you have this in an eight?”
“I’ll check and be right back.”
While she waited, Tricia glanced over the multiple high-heeled sandals and strappy stilettos. Although she loved shoes, heels weren’t her thing. Not only because she was a larger, plus-size woman and her ankles hurt like hell when she wore them, but also because she didn’t go anywhere fancy enough to wear them. Her work wardrobe consisted of slacks and the occasional skirt, which she’d pair with a simple blouse and whatever cute, overpriced designer flat or low-heeled footwear matched her ensemble. On the weekends, she mainly wore leggings and T-shirts. And of course, there were her bags, all designer: Gucci, Prada, Louis Vuitton, Chanel, and so many others. She spared no expense when it came to buying them, and she had a closetful.
“Where the hell is she? What’s taking so long?” Tricia asked no one as she became increasingly impatient. One of the main reasons she preferred to shop in the middle of the day was because not only was it less crowded and there were fewer people she had to deal with, but it was quicker to make purchases.
The saleswoman finally came back after several minutes. “I’m so sorry, but we don’t have them. I can order them for you and have them shipped to your home or here to the store.”
Irritated because she waited all that time only for the woman to tell her the shoes weren’t in stock, Tricia gave her a look that was as nasty as the tone of her voice when she said, “No, if I wanted to do that, I would do it myself. Thanks for nothing.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to take that long. I was double-checking to see if we had them in another size, and then I wanted to check online before I offered to order them,” the poor girl tried to explain.
Tricia looked her up and down, staring at her pretty brown face, petite body, and expensive hair extension, then said, “Not all big women wear a size eleven. I didn’t ask for a bigger size.”
“No, that’s not what I was saying at all. These run a little small, so—”
“I don’t have time for this.” Tricia walked off. She was highly annoyed and decided she didn’t even want to bother looking for a new bag. She quickly went to the food court and ordered one of her favorite meals, consisting of hibachi shrimp fried rice, chicken wings, two egg rolls, and a large Dr. Pepper. While she was eating, Titus called.
“You want me to pick up Popeyes or Chick-fil-A for dinner?” he asked.
“Whichever one y’all want,” Tricia told him. His work hours were much earlier in the day than hers. She would still be asleep when he left the house and still be at work when he got home early in the afternoons. Since he would be hungry when he got home, Titus would pick up something for dinner unless he felt like cooking.
“I’ll probably just grab a smoothie for me and Tank before we hit the gym today,” Titus told her. “But I can grab something for you and have it waiting when you get home.”
“In other words, y’all won’t be home until real late again tonight.” Tricia exhaled loudly so Titus could sense the attitude she had.
“Not that late, Tricia.” He sighed.
“Hold on.” Her phone beeped, and she held it out to see who was calling. It was the same number that called before. “Do you know anyone with this number? They keep calling and not leaving a message.”
“Nope,” Titus said after she read the number aloud. “Did you call the number back?”
“Obviously I didn’t if I’m asking if you know the number,” Tricia snapped as she blocked the number. “Don’t worry about getting me food. I’m fine.”
“You sure? I told you it’s no big deal. I don’t wanna hear you complaining about having to deal with traffic on the way home and then having to stop for food. You know how you are.”
“I said I’m fine. I’ll see you when you get home, whenever that is,” Tricia said, looking at the food on her plate and deciding to eat the leftovers for dinner.
“It won’t be that late, Tricia.”
“Bye, Titus,” she said and ended the call.
* * *
It was already dark when Tricia pulled into the driveway of their house. She hit the garage door opener on her sun visor and was about to pull inside when she slammed on the brakes just in time before the front bumper of her SUV made contact with the black Acura that belonged to Tank parked in the space where she normally parked. The other space of their two-car garage was occupied by Titus’s motorcycle, a weight bench, and four basketballs.
“Damn it,” she said as she reversed and parked in the driveway. After climbing out, she opened the rear door and grabbed her purse and the plastic bag holding her leftovers. She pushed the door with her hip to close it, then hit the lock.
“Excuse me,” a male voice called out as a shadowy figure in the darkness walked toward her. They lived in one of the safest neighborhoods in the city, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t possible for crimes to happen. She’d seen hundreds of stories on the ID channel of suburban housewives who’d been raped and murdered. Now she was about to become one.
Tricia looked around, trying to determine whether she would be able to escape from whoever it was she assumed was about to attack her. She hit the unlock button and took a step back toward her car, thinking that if she could get in fast enough, she could drive off and maybe run him over in the process.
“Go away. I’ve got a gun,” she warned, hoping the approaching predator wouldn’t call her bluff and catch her in her lie.
“Whoa, whoa.” The man stopped, and she could see him lift his hands. “I’m sorry. I’m not here to hurt anyone. I’m here about Tarik King.”
“What about him?” Tricia frowned, taking another step backward. Her movement triggered the floodlight attached to the garage, and suddenly light was everywhere. The shadowy figure she now saw was a guy wearing glasses and dressed in a suit. He looked more like a minister than the serial rapist she thought he was seconds earlier.
“Are you his mom? How are you? I’m Everett Matthews.” He smiled nervously. “I’m so sorry I frightened you. Please don’t shoot.”
Tricia relaxed enough to ask, “Who are you again?”
“My name is Everett Matthews. I’m with Burke University, and I’d like to talk to you about Tarik.”
“The Burke University?” Tricia asked. Burke University was one of the top Ivy League universities, comparable to Harvard, Yale, and Cornell.
“Yes, ma’am, the Burke University.” He nodded.
“Well, Tarik isn’t here. He’s still at school practicing with his dad and his coaches. You need to go there and talk to them, Mr. Matthews,” Tricia told him and started walking toward the house.
“Everett. And uh, well, see, I’ve tried talking to him and his dad as well, but I haven’t been that successful.” Everett fell in stride beside her. “That’s why I’m here. I don’t want to talk to Tarik. I want to talk about him with you.”
Tricia stopped and turned around. “Me?”
“Yeah. I’ve tried calling you a couple of times but couldn’t reach you. Then I couldn’t get through at all. So I took a chance and drove over,” Everett explained.
Tricia remembered the number she blocked. “Oh, well, you ain’t leave a message, so I ain’t know who you were.”
“I understand. And I apologize for that.”
“His dad and coaches are the ones to talk to about basketball, not me.”
“I don’t want to talk about your son’s athletic career. I’m here to discuss his academic future,” Everett said. “Can we go somewhere and chat?”
Fifteen minutes later, they were sitting across from one another at the Panera
not far from the house. Everett asked if she’d like anything to eat or drink, but Tricia said no. She really wasn’t sure if she should even be there talking with him, but he seemed harmless, and she was curious about what he had to say about Tank.
“Are you some kind of admissions recruiter?” Tricia asked.
“No, I’m actually a Burke graduate, and I’m the president of the black alumni association. We identify students we believe would make great Burke students and help them. We mentor them, offer scholarships and financial assistance, and make sure they’re taken care of while on campus. Tarik would be exceptional at Burke,” Everett said. “We would love to help him get a degree for free.”
“I don’t understand,” Tricia said. “This doesn’t have anything to do with basketball?”
“Don’t get me wrong, if he’d like to play for the university, I’m sure the basketball coach would have no problem with that. But the scholarship we’re offering him from the alumni association would be a full academic scholarship. He has the grades, the test scores, he’s a leader at his school and in the community. He’s exactly what we’re looking for.”
“And you told Tank, I mean, Tarik all of this, and his dad?” Tricia blinked.
“About a month ago when I was in town. I travel quite a bit for work, but I do stop and reach out to those students we identify.”
“And what was their response?” Tricia couldn’t believe this was her first time hearing about any of this, and it wasn’t coming from her son or her husband.
“They both said Tarik had no interest in our university. Neither really gave an explanation, but I got the vibe from Tarik that even though he hasn’t made an official announcement, he’s made a decision. I even invited him to come visit and tour, all expenses paid, but he said no.”
“Wow.”
“They didn’t say anything to you at all?” He frowned. “You don’t know what his decision is?”
Tricia shook her head. “As far as I know, he was waiting until after the All-American Game.”
“That makes sense. I just hope he understands the huge opportunity this would be for him and seriously considers it. I just decided to make one last effort while I was in town and talk to you instead.”
