by Tina Martin
“Roman is doing an excellent job in my class…”
“Well, why didn’t you say that?” he asked, interrupting me with some smart remark.
I really didn’t have time to deal with his ego. Not only did my feet hurt, but I just got my period and was fresh out of Motrin. Can you say World War III?
“Mr. Beauvais, are you here for Roman, or is it your aim to go back and forth regarding this issue? The bottom line is Roman needs a ride home, and I see this all the time where the parents are too busy trying to make that next dollar to spend any time with their kids. From what I hear, if you’re not chasing paper, you’re chasing women, looking for the next best thing because one woman is never enough for Sean Beauvais. I know all about you and your reputation, and I feel sorry for Roman because he deserves so much better than a father figure like you.”
I couldn’t believe I had just said that. It was definitely not me talking, maybe the cramps. That time of the month threw me into different moods. One minute, I could be as peaceful as a stream of water, and the next, I felt as if I could rip someone’s head clean off of their body and feed it to a pack of wolves.
Then again, maybe a little bit of that was me talking because I despised men like him. I’d rather hear fingernails on a chalkboard than listen to the garbage he was trying to spit at me. Unable to look in his face any longer, I left him standing there and walked down the hall into the teacher’s lounge with my grade book rolled up in my hand like a scroll. Sean just stood there while I walked away. I knew he was mad, but oh well. On the other hand, he wasn’t the type to let people get under his skin. He was very relaxed and smug, and would let things roll off his back. He didn’t have a care in the world.
I sat on the couch in the lounge, kicked off my shoes, and rubbed my toes back to life. Keisha came walking in a few minutes later.
“Girl, what is wrong with you? Don’t you know who that man is? He can get you fired!”
I laughed at Keisha’s statement. Unlike me, she was not a confrontational person. She didn’t even like telling parents bad things that their kids were doing in her classroom. Though she was a good teacher, she let a lot of bad behavior slide under the radar.
I, however, was a strict teacher. I would bring in candy every week and let the kids stay outside for break an extra five minutes. You know, little stuff to show my softer side. However, let one of those little maniacs get out of line, and they would be standing in the timeout corner faster than their little, bright eyes could blink. And when they did get out of line, I let them know and let their parents know. It was all a part of the job. Keisha would have never had the guts to confront Sean like I did, although, I’m sure she had a good time watching us go at it.
“I don’t care,” I said in response to Keisha’s statement, while taking a sip of water from my stained glass I kept in the teacher’s lounge near the sink.
“Listen. We both know Sean is a questionable parent, but we have to be professional about this. Being a teacher means you’re going to run into the good and bad parents, right?”
I knew she was right, though I didn’t want to admit it. I probably owed Mr. Beauvais an apology, even after he insulted my pay and gave me money to buy liquor.
“Yeah, you’re right, Keisha, but Roman is not in your classroom. He’s in mine. I’m the one sitting here after school with him, waiting and waiting and waiting.” I finished my water and rinsed out the glass, leaving it turned upside down on a brown paper towel. “You know what? It has been a long day. I’m outta here.”
“Alright, girl.”
Keisha walked me back to my class, and I’m glad I had her to talk to. Otherwise, I would’ve been a wreck. Keisha has been my best friend since my freshman year in high school, and we’ve been through a lot together. She was twenty-five years old, only a few months older than me. Her frame was small like actress Golden Brooks and her complexion was the same as mine. She always wore her hair in micro-braids, which suited her skinny face well.
“Hey, you wouldn’t happen to have any Motrin, would you?” I asked Keisha.
Those cramps were creeping up on me, and I wanted to put a stop to them right away before I told one of those old, nosy teachers where they could go.
“Ah, I think I have some Advil. You need some?”
“Yeah, girl. These cramps are killing me right now.”
“Okay, let me go get my purse.”
I usually became addicted to ibuprofen during this time of the month, along with ice cream, Oreos, and sour cream and cheddar potato chips. There was just something about PMS and junk food that went hand-in-hand.
When Keisha returned, I took the two Advils and left the building. It was time for me to get home, soak my feet, and prepare to do the same thing again tomorrow. I seriously need a vacation.
***
The next day was class as usual and Roman didn’t show up. I wasn’t surprised. I figured Mr. Beauvais had a trick up his expensive sleeve, upset from last night’s shouting match. I’m glad the day went by fast, because as soon as I left work, I called his home. After the phone rang a couple of times, Roman picked up.
“Hi, Roman. This is Ms. Smith, honey.”
“Hi, Ms. Smith.”
“Where’s your father?”
“He’s sitting right here.”
Roman handed the phone to his father and I could hear him saying, “Here, Daddy. Ms. Smith wants to talk to you.” I had no idea what to expect next. I thought Sean would just hang up the phone, but he didn’t.
“Exactly what is it that you want?” he asked grudgingly. He was angry and rightly so, being judged by a woman that he’d had no previous dealings with. On top of that, I had the nerve to call his home after the tirade I started at a parent-teacher conference.
“I was calling to see why Roman wasn’t at school today.”
“He was with me all day today, not like that’s any of your business.”
“It is my business. Roman is my student, Mr. Beauvais.”
“And he’s my son in case you forgot!”
“Yeah, he’s your son, but you probably don’t even know what his favorite sport is. As a matter of fact, you probably wouldn’t even know the color of his eyes if he wasn’t right there with you.”
Monica Smith strikes again. And it wasn’t intentional. I don’t know what came over me.
“Look, lady. I’ve been trying to be patient with you, but you don’t know me well enough to start throwing judgments my way. And how dare you call my parenting skills into question. You don’t live in my house.”
“I know of you…that’s enough,” I shot back. “I know your son has been the last child to be picked up from my classroom. I know that he pretends it doesn’t bother him, but it does. And I know he wishes that his father would take more of an interest in him rather than being consumed with making money and chasing skirts!”
Whoa. I amazed myself with that one. If I wasn’t so modest, I’d give myself a pat on the back. After hearing a loud crash, the phone went dead. I must have pissed him off again.
I knew the man had a temper. Keisha’s boyfriend Daryl has an older brother that actually went to school with Sean, and he told Daryl stories about when they were in school. Daryl told her that Sean was the type of cat that’ll fight over anything. His parents were constantly going to school over his fights and misbehaving, all throughout his high school years. After college, he mellowed out, took things more easily and became a man, learning that he didn’t need to settle his problems with violence. To this day, he never let people get under his skin enough to cause him to react in an aggressive manner. He had control over himself for the most part. However, at times, he found it hard to control – this being one of those times.
I hung up the phone since Sean single-handedly chose to end the conversation. I can’t get anywhere with this guy, I thought. I know I should’ve been a tad more civil with Sean, but I just lost it. And I knew why.
I loved Roman. All that time we spent after school
together, I was starting to feel like his caretaker. He was such a well-mannered, bright young boy, and he reminded me of myself when I was in school…eager, yet a little timid. He looked similar to that little boy named Franklin from that TV show, My Wife and Kids, except Roman has green eyes. I took a special interest in him and helped him build some confidence when I organized class participation activities, show-and-tell in particular.
I remember our very first show-and-tell activity. Roman was so nervous his hands were shaking. I pulled him over to the side and told him everything was going to be okay. Then I took off a gold necklace I was wearing, put it into his sweaty palms, and closed his fist. That way, he knew I was with him and he wasn’t just standing up there alone. He showed his yellow and red Tonka truck without a nervous bone in his body. Boy, did he make me proud that day.
He never did give the necklace back. I figured he probably lost it, but I didn’t care. I would do anything to support my star student. It was my mission to be there for him.
Chapter 4 - Fly and Flashy
I’ve heard things about Sean through the Milwaukee grapevine. He was known as a ladies’ man, a player, and his cockiness was sickening, parading around night after night with different women on his arm like a pimp. Granted, he was a gorgeous individual. If Milwaukee Magazine created a list of beautiful people in Milwaukee, Sean Beauvais would be in the top three, or maybe even asked to grace the cover. He reminded me of actor Michael Ealy, except Sean has black hair and green eyes.
He was the type to flaunt what he had, and everything he owned had to be name brand and top of the line. He wasn’t big on jewelry, but I know he owns a stainless steel Rolex because he had it on the other night. Sean had no physical flaws, which surprised me considering all the fights Daryl’s brother said he’d been in. He was perfect from head to toe, and that alone put him in a class of distinction.
Women were drawn to him not only for his looks, but the man was filthy rich. He had money and spent it like it was nothing, balling uncontrollably all over town. If he wanted it, he bought it. He was one of those men that would leave a good waitress a hundred-dollar tip, or over tip valet parking attendants for bringing his whip around. Women couldn’t resist a man like Sean. With all the wining and dining, having a man as fine as Sean on your arms could easily become a way of life. And though appearance mattered more to men than women, no woman wants to introduce an ugly man to her girlfriends. With Sean, the only issue she would have is keeping her girlfriend’s hands off of her man.
Sean owned many properties all around the city and the place that he called home was on Lake Drive. He lived in a three-million-dollar mansion with a spectacular view of beautiful Lake Michigan. His home looked more like a medieval castle rather than a home for two.
A two-car garage housed his black, tricked-out Cadillac Escalade, complete with a set of Giovanni rims. Then there was his boy toy, the infamous china white BMW M3 convertible with tinted windows that he would only drive in the summer. When he really wanted to show off, he would leave them both parked in the horseshoe driveway during the spring and summer months.
He owned the kind of home that made people wonder who lived there and what kind of work they did to maintain such a high-class property. After all, the taxes on that house alone were more than my salary. Average class citizens like me looked forward to riding down Lake Drive to look at the houses of the rich people in our city. Just riding by, I would imagine maids on the inside dusting and cooking while the owners were busy at work.
Sean had what I called the three S’s – stability, security, and sexiness. He was the complete package and had what it took to get any woman he wanted, and he knew it. Unlike most men, I don’t think he’s the type to take an interest in any woman that pursued him. He wasn’t about to let some woman choose him. He was the chooser, the hunter, and he wasn’t afraid to go after his prey. It was all part of the game.
TO MY SURPRISE, Roman showed up at school the next day. I felt proud when he came up to give me a hug. Those were the times I enjoyed my job the most.
“Ms. Smith, I missed you yesterday.”
“Aw, you did?” I didn’t try to pry any information out of him as to why he wasn’t at school. I’m a firm believer that grownup business should be just that – for grownups. There was no need to put children in the middle of adult disputes.
“Yes,” he said, showing his cute little dimples.
“I missed you, too, hun.”
When class was over, I stayed after school, hanging pictures from a finger painting exercise the class participated in earlier. Roman was there with me again, waiting to be picked up. Can’t say I was surprised.
An hour later, the school secretary came walking into my classroom. She had a limp as if one leg was longer than the other one. I knew right away something was up. The only time I’d ever seen that fat ol’ lady leave her office was when she took her lunch breaks.
“Ms. Smith, Roman’s father just called and asked if you could take Roman home. I wrote down the directions. It should be easy to find. He lives on Lake Drive.”
“Okay. Thank you.” I took the directions from her, even though I knew how to get to Lake Drive. I had a good mind to call Sean and make him come and get Roman, but I didn’t even go there. I didn’t want Roman to see me angry, but I was fuming. “Roman, sweetie, get your stuff together so I can take you home.”
“Okay.”
Roman placed his eight crayons neatly back in the slender Crayola box and put them in the upper zipper of his book bag. For the entire twenty-minute drive, Roman talked my ears off, asking question after question, but that’s what kids his age do. They want to know everything.
When I pulled my Honda Accord into the driveway of his house, Sean was standing at the front door wearing a white wifebeater tank and some comfortable gray cotton shorts that weren’t too baggy or too clingy. He was sweaty, as if he had just been working out. Roman jumped out of the car and ran to his father. Sean may not have been the perfect father, but Roman loved him dearly. He was so happy to see his father that he left his book bag in the backseat of my car.
While reaching in the back to get it, I heard Sean tell Roman to go to his room, then he walked down the front steps as I exited my car and started walking towards him to meet him on his walkway. It was all starting to make sense to me now. He purposefully didn’t have Roman picked up because he wanted the opportunity to talk to me, face-to-face. Figures.
“So what is your problem with me again?”
“I’m not going to have this conversation with you again, Mr. Beauvais. I dropped Roman off for you and…”
“What? You want some gas money?”
“No, I don’t want any gas money. How about a thank you?” He just stood there looking at me. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Anyway, you’re welcome. Now I’m going to go.” I tried to walk away from him, but he grabbed my arm.
“No, we need to have this conversation. If my son is in your class, then there has to be some interaction between us.”
“Really?” I yanked my arm away from him. “Why is there a need for us to have some interaction now? The school year is almost over.”
“That still doesn’t change the fact that my boy is in your class. So, again, I ask, what is your problem with me?”
Sean boldly stood a few inches away from me, waiting for an answer to his question. Being the type of person that he is, this guy wouldn’t give up. I mean, he didn’t get as far in life as he did by letting people walk all over him. However, I’m no pushover myself. Since I was old enough to walk, I was telling people what to do. And I had to tell this guy something so he could get off my back.
“Okay, well, it’s like this. I don’t like you. I feel like Roman deserves better.”
Hey, I was honest. I didn’t like him, and I knew he didn’t like my response. He was heated, and I literally watched his face turn red like he was turning into a red version of the Incredible Hulk. But, like they always say, you shouldn’t ask
questions you don’t want the answers to.
“I take good care of my son!” he yelled. “How dare you insult me while standing on my property!”
There was no way I was just going to let him yell at me to the top of his lungs like I’m hard of hearing. So, I yelled back at him. “Well, if you would’ve come to pick up your son, I could’ve insulted you on the school’s property!” I laughed internally and then kindly I dismissed myself. “Have a good day, Mr. Beauvais.”
As I started walking back to my car, he stepped in front of me.
“I’m not done yet. You judge me but you don’t know me. You don’t know who I am. How can you say all this stuff about me when you don’t know me?”
“I’ve seen you around doing your thang. Yet, you don’t have time to spend with your own son.”
“How do you know what I do with my boy? You don’t live here.”
“Wow. What a great observation. I don’t live here.”
The more the conversation went on, the more facetious I was being with him. It was pretty funny to watch his reaction to what I was saying, which was a look of disgust.
“Actually, I don’t care what’s going on in your house. Just make sure someone picks up Roman on time tomorrow. That’s all I care about.” I pulled out a twenty-dollar bill from my purse. “Oh, and here’s the twenty back that you gave me at school the other day in case your driver needs some gas for the Mercedes.”
Grinning, I got in the car, cranked up the radio, and sped off. I had to call Keisha.
“Uh huh, where you been? I tried calling you a couple of times,” Keisha said immediately upon answering the phone.
