by Terry Crews
“This is my friend, Terry,” he said. “Terry, this is Rebecca.”
Her soft, brown eyes seemed to disappear into her smile. With her small baby planted firmly on her hip, it was as if she and the little girl were one. She extended her free hand to me, and I shook it in the most respectful way possible.
“Wow, you can really play that keyboard.”
“Oh, thank you,” she said. “Thank you.”
Okay, so I wasn’t exactly pulling off anything in the vicinity of suave, but she was really pretty. I did my best to make conversation until she turned to talk to Joe. As they spoke, I was too busy looking at Rebecca to really follow their conversation. I wondered how this mysterious woman with the little blond baby had ended up in this predominantly African-American congregation, and why I couldn’t stop looking at her, even though she didn’t seem the least bit interested in me.
When we got out to the car, I grilled Joe for information. He told me that Rebecca wasn’t with her daughter’s father and was a single mom.
Okay, I don’t feel so bad, now that I know she’s single, I thought. That’s a start.
Not that I had any idea what it might be a start of, as I was a nineteen-year-old college student who’d never had a girlfriend and was hopeless around the house: I couldn’t even fry an egg.
Joe and April often came and knocked on my dorm room door because Joe knew I was lonely. We would always roll to this burger place, Elias Brothers Big Boy. The next time we went, Rebecca was there, too. I was glad to see her, and not only because she was pretty, but also because talking to her made me feel less like I was Joe and April’s charity case. This time, Rebecca and I had the best time together, just laughing and talking about life, and school, and everything. I was starting to really like her, but then I’d look at her and remember: You’ve got a baby. There’s no way I’m ready for that. I don’t know anything about anything.
For the next few months, it seemed like Joe was always inviting me out to places where we happened to run into Rebecca. Of course I later found out that Joe was trying to hook us up. But at the time, Rebecca and I were just enjoying the experience of getting to know each other.
Meanwhile, I began to attend the Christian Life Center church. As much as I liked everyone there, after what I’d been through with Maranatha, I had decided I would never again give myself over completely to any organization. I would always keep something back for myself. Of course, no one at my new church had any interest in controlling me, and I was glad to have finally found a real community.
I stayed in Kalamazoo that summer to work at a refrigeration company, Stafford-Smith, owned by one of my teammate’s fathers. I moved in with another Maranatha defector, Mike Lewis, who had a beautiful apartment on Lovell Street.
There was an additional benefit to my new church. They frequently held picnics and singles events, and when I showed up, Rebecca was always there. One night, we all went bowling. I looked over and saw Rebecca at the top of one of the lanes, and I noticed she had really nice legs. Whoo-whee, look at those legs, I thought. But always, any admiring thought was followed by a reality check: She has a baby.
As I got to know Rebecca better, and learned more about her situation, both my sympathy and admiration for her increased. The former Miss Gary 1984, she’d been a musical theater major with a 4.0 grade point average when she became pregnant. She hadn’t been dating her baby’s father, and she considered giving her baby up for adoption, but she couldn’t do it. When it became clear the father was incapable of helping her to raise her daughter, she dropped out of college and went on welfare while she completed beauty school.
Even though she was determined, and she worked incredibly hard, she was really struggling, and she’d gotten in the habit of calling Joe when she needed help with something. So now both Joe and I went to her aid. She had this old beater car that was always breaking down, and so Joe and I often showed up and pushed it for her. One time, we called her a tow truck. When it came, the driver hooked up her car incorrectly, and it wrecked her car. The poor woman could not get a break.
“Oh, whatever, it doesn’t matter,” she said.
It mattered to me. I chewed out the tow truck guy. I just felt so much for her and her situation. As Joe and I were leaving her house that day, I turned to him.
“When I go pro, I’m going to buy that girl a car,” I said.
“Really?” he said.
“Yep, when I go pro, I’m going to buy her a car. I hope her husband doesn’t get mad at me.”
I honestly thought she’d be married to someone else by that point, because she was two years older than me, and I knew getting married and raising a kid was way more than I was capable of then. But she was beautiful, and she didn’t have a man, and she’d had to call the cops on her daughter’s father before, and knowing all of this, and how much I liked her, I really wanted to see her make it.
I may have been altruistic when it came to Rebecca, but not so much regarding my family. Along with my new sense of accomplishment after I earned my scholarship, I’m not proud to admit that I also felt like I deserved special treatment within my family. I was never above begging and pleading for what I wanted until Trish and Big Terry couldn’t stand it anymore and finally gave in to my demands.
Now that I’d made good on my promise to them and earned my scholarship, I was sure I was on my way to the NFL, and my attitude was that I was the guy in our family who was going to become a star and achieve greatness for all of us. And because of this, I decided I needed a car, and they needed to buy it for me. Trish had not been exaggerating about the amount of debt they’d accrued keeping me in college, and she wasn’t in a position to give me anything right then, no matter how much of a pain I was about it. So I went to my grandmother. “I went and got a scholarship, and now I need you to help me get a car,” I said.
“Uh, well, how are you gonna pay me for this?” she asked.
“We’re going to get money for the scholarship, and I’ll pay you back,” I said.
Maybe I really did have the intention of working during the summer and making good on my promise, but I honestly would have said anything to get what I wanted. The reality is you get zero points for intentions. You only get points for behavior, and I was behaving like a petulant child. I believe Mama knew her money wasn’t coming back, but she gave in to my demands anyhow because I was so good at convincing others to give me what I needed. I used my scholarship to convince everyone I was going pro. In a sense I was selling my family tickets to my dream. My grandmother agreed to put the down payment on a car for me, and then I was supposed to pay the note on it. I wanted a Jeep, and I’d been telling Rebecca for months that I was going to come back to school with one. But my family at least put practicality before my grandiose view of myself, and they bought me this little Chevy Nova instead. I didn’t care, really. I was just so happy to go back to school with a car of my own. It really came in handy for helping out Rebecca and her daughter, Naomi. And with that car came freedom.
But, of course, I ended up not giving anyone in my family a single cent for the note on that car. When they came to me for the money not long after that, I was straight with them. “I don’t have it,” I said.
And so my mother and father had to take on the whole loan themselves. I didn’t think twice about it. I was so sure I was headed for greatness it was almost like I felt they were lucky for being able to help me. Ah, the arrogance of youth. Don’t worry. I was about to get brought back down to size, many, many times.
I’D BEEN WORKING HARD ALL SUMMER, AND THE TASTE of Kalamazoo was coming up. It struck me that I should ask Rebecca if she wanted to go with me. I was lonely. I felt like her days were really dark, considering all she was struggling with, and I was going through some dark days, too. I saw us as really good friends more than anything else at that point. I just wanted to give her some brightness.
She agreed to go out with me. I was so happy and all about getting it right. When I came home from work the
night of our date, I got cleaned up, and I carefully laid out my best outfit. I had this awful baggy pink shirt that billowed way out in the back, but I stuffed it into my pants, and I put on this gray tie I had to go with it. At the time, I had a high-top fade with a blond streak, and I made sure that was looking good, too. You know, it was back in the day, and I was all about the hip-hop look.
Mike Lewis saw me getting ready in the bathroom of our apartment.
“You know what?” he said. “I see you and Rebecca together, man.”
“Aw, no, man, she’s got a baby,” I said. “I don’t know. I don’t see that.”
I wasn’t going to marry Rebecca, but I was excited to go out with her. As I pulled up in front of her apartment, the sun was shining its golden light down on everything, and it was this beautiful, perfect summer evening. When Rebecca came to the door, I stopped short. She’d done her hair up, and she had on full makeup. I had never seen her like that, and she was gorgeous, I mean stunning.
“What?” she said. “What?”
I was struck dumb.
“Oh, I know this little boy ain’t making me blush,” she said.
“You look amazing,” I said.
“Okay, that’s cool,” she said.
“Where’s Naomi?” I asked.
“With my friend,” she said. “You ready?”
I was more than ready. I walked her out to my Chevy Nova, and we headed to downtown Kalamazoo. And then our evening came to an abrupt halt. It was a twenty-one-and-over event. Rebecca was twenty-one. I was only nineteen.
I felt my mood deflate, but Rebecca went right up to the guy at the entrance.
“He’s not going to drink,” she said. “He doesn’t drink.”
I perked up and tried to look as innocent as possible.
“I don’t drink at all,” I said. “I’m with her.”
He gave me the up and down. I must have looked desperate. He smiled.
“Aw, go on in.”
I was so relieved and grateful. Rebecca moved into the crowd ahead of me.
“Hold on, hold on, let me lead you,” I said.
I grabbed her hand and pushed my way through the throng of people, clearing a path for us as I went. Rebecca later told me that this was the moment she felt something between us. I felt it, too, along with the desire to take care of her.
I led her over to an open space where we could dance.
Don’t mess it up, I thought. Don’t mess it up.
I was so respectful of her. I almost didn’t want to touch her, even though she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. For me, sex had a dark side because of my secret pornography habit, and because of what had happened with the girl in my dormitory, and how dirty I’d felt afterward. I didn’t want any of that to soil what was so good about that moment and how amazing it felt to be with Rebecca. And so I didn’t even want to think of her in that way. As we danced, I held her at a distance, just to be safe. This is somebody’s mom, I thought. This is a real woman, with a child. And look at her: She’s gorgeous. You’re out with the real deal. Do not mess it up.
“Um, you know, you can get closer,” she said, smiling at me.
“Really?” I said. “Is it okay?”
“Come on in, it’s okay,” she said.
I came on in and just sort of laid my chest against her body. The ground went out from under me, the sky lifted up from above me, and I was floating. To this day, I remember everything so clearly, how she felt, and how good she smelled.
Oh my God, I’m actually holding a real woman, and talking with her, and laughing with her, and having a good time, I thought. This is so beautiful.
It was the perfect evening. We went for dinner at Great Lakes Shipping Company. I had my cash all ready. I didn’t want her to order something nice, and then not have enough money to cover it. There will be no mistakes, I thought.
“I’ve got a nice chunk ready for whatever you want,” I said. “You can get whatever you want on the menu.”
I guess I don’t have to keep telling you how young I was, right?
Rebecca smiled at me and ordered. And then we sat there and talked and talked, and there wasn’t one single thing she said that gave me the slightest pause. I looked into her eyes, and I thought: This is gorgeous. This is bliss.
I took her home, and I led her into her house. Right before I turned to leave, I was moved to speak.
“You know, Rebecca,” I said, “I don’t know what this is, or where this is going, but I just want you to know that I’m willing. I don’t know, but I’m willing.”
“Okay,” she said. “Okay.”
Before that night, all I’d been able to see were obstacles: I’m too young. You’re too much of a mom. You’ve got a baby. I can’t do any of that. But by the end of our first date, I had no apprehensions at all. I knew everything would take care of itself.
When I got home, my roommate, Mike, was still up.
“How’d it go?” he asked.
“Man, it’s all good,” I said. “You know, it went great. It was good.”
“I see you two,” he said again.
“No, no, no, don’t go there,” I said. “Look, man, I’m trying to tell you, I don’t know what’s going to happen. She may not like me. She may turn around and whatever, I don’t know. But it was a great night.”
I knew I could mess everything up by trying to analyze the situation too much, and I just wanted to enjoy the moment for what it was while it lasted.
WE WERE SOON INSEPARABLE: REBECCA AND ME. AND Naomi. It was a big life lesson for me, for sure. We spent hours over at Rebecca’s house, with Naomi sitting in her little seat, as cute as could be. But when she got grumpy, I had to learn to be patient. When Rebecca was at her house, and I was at mine, we talked on the phone, and I mean late into the night. It was one of those scenarios where we stayed on the phone until we were both falling asleep. She had the best voice ever, the sexiest, most beautiful voice. I was in love with that voice. But I hadn’t yet gotten clear on my feelings about Rebecca. I’d just turned twenty years old, and I’d never been allowed to date, so I was stunted in the extreme. This was my first girlfriend, and it took me a little while to catch up with her. Finally, after several months, Rebecca got real with me one day while we were talking on the phone.
“What are you feeling?” she said. “What do you feel about me?”
Now, my whole life I’d been told that I couldn’t date, but I’d eventually find a woman to marry and have a family with, and when I’d been in Maranatha, they’d told me if I wanted to even just date a woman, I had to get clearance from my pastor in order to be sure God really wanted us to be together. So that’s how I thought.
“Please don’t get offended,” I said. “But I think you’re supposed to be my wife. I just, I really do.”
“Really?” she said.
“I do,” I said. “I don’t know what’s happening. But I know I feel like we were always meant to be together. I don’t know how to be a father. I don’t know how to be a husband. I don’t know any of this. But I’m willing. You make me want to do things I never thought I could do.”
“Wow,” she said.
I went over to her place that night, and as soon as I walked in, we kissed. And then she pulled back and looked at me.
“You know what?” she said. “I’m with that, too. I want us to be together.”
That right there was our engagement. The next time we saw our pastor I couldn’t help but beam at him.
“We’re engaged,” I said.
“That’s kind of quick,” he said. “I mean, you guys hung out for six months.”
“I know,” I said.
Rebecca’s mother flipped.
“What?” Rebecca’s mother said to her. “You’re getting married to this boy? He doesn’t have anything. What are you doing?”
My mother flipped. She had been in the same situation as Rebecca, a single mom, who wasn’t quite making it on her own. And she was afraid, as she’d always be
en, that a woman looking for a daddy for her baby would trap me. But I wasn’t going to let anyone tell me what to feel or how to live. I’d made up my mind.
“I love her,” I said. “And I know this is the decision I’m ready to make. I’m going to be with her, and we’re going to do this together, forever.”
Over the summer, I took Rebecca to Flint to meet my parents and my grandmother, and they treated her so coldly. At first, they did not like her at all. Rebecca is very independent, and she does not care what other people think of her, and that was in direct opposition to how my mother lived and expected Rebecca and everyone else to behave. One day, Rebecca decided she needed a little bit of a tan, so she went out onto the front lawn of my parents’ house in a bathing suit. My father went crazy. He ran outside and started yelling and waving his arms.
“Rebecca, get off the front lawn,” Big Terry said. “Yo, you are about to get attacked, and I can’t help you when these brothers come running over here.”
“What?” she said. “I just want to get a tan.”
“No, no, get in the house,” he said. “You cannot do that here in Flint, Michigan.”
She’s from Gary, Indiana, which was basically the same kind of city, so she knew she’d be fine, but with him flipping out like that, she ended up going inside.
From the beginning, it was a real clash between everybody. But I actually kind of enjoyed the conflict. For me, it was my stand. It was my declaration of independence. And, of course, that made the situation grate on my mother’s nerves even more. But then, slowly but surely, Rebecca sat down and really talked with the women in my family, and they ended up loving her more than they loved me. Really.
Now, the fact that my family had come to love Rebecca and had gotten behind our marriage did not mean I was actually ready to get married. I was naive on so many levels. I didn’t know how to save, and I was very bad with money. Rebecca later told me that she saw warning signs from the beginning, but she ignored them because she was swept up in the bliss of dating. Although I worked all summer, I always took my check and spent it on Rebecca, or I went right out and bought new tennis shoes and T-shirts, leaving nothing behind for the bills.
