by Zuri Day
“Open up, man. I’m here.”
“Barry, look, dude. I’m—”
Heavy, constant knocking on his front door interrupted Doug’s planned excuse. No need to waste his breath trying to talk sense to the baby of the family. Barry was the most spoiled, annoying, cocky person by far that Doug had ever met. So why he and the rest of the Carter clan loved that rascal to the moon and back was a mystery that none of them had yet to solve. Couldn’t live with him, and sure as heck couldn’t live without him.
Doug reached the door and yanked it open. Barry stumbled forward, knocking Doug backward.
“Barry, stop playing!”
“I’m not trying to mess with you, Doug. I was leaning on the door!”
Doug walked into the living room and plopped on the couch. He rested his head against the back, rubbing his forehead.
Shaking his head, Barry continued past him into the kitchen. “You got some aspirin?” He opened the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of water, walked over to Doug, and set it on the coffee table. Kicking Doug’s foot, he repeated the question.
Doug groaned, rubbed his face with both hands, and looked heavenward. “What did I do to deserve him in my life?”
“I’m trying to help you, big bro, because we’re going running today. There’s no getting out of that. All you need are a few aspirin, that entire bottle of water, and a good, greasy meal.” Barry pulled out his phone, tapped a smiling face on his contact list, and then hit the speaker button.
Two rings and then an answer. “Why are you calling here at what-the-hell thirty in the morning?”
“Mama, it’s after eight.”
“Do I have kids under the age of five?”
Barry frowned. “No, but—”
“That’s the only reason to be up at ass crack on a Saturday.”
“Tell him, Mama!” Doug called out.
“Is that Doug?”
Doug leaned closer to Barry and the phone. “It’s your favorite, smartest, and most handsome son.”
“Oh, I thought it was Doug. It must be my cute little rapper son, T. I.”
Doug laughed, started to respond, then clutching his stomach, raced down the hallway.
“Sorry to disappoint you, Mama, but that was your son who can’t hold liquor.”
“You’re over at Doug’s house? What kind of shenanigans did y’all get into last night?”
“You’ll have to ask Nelson. That’s who he hung out with. I’m picking him up for us to go running in Exposition Park. He wants to get in shape and asked me not to let him talk me out of it. So even with his lightweight hangover, I’m keeping my promise to do just that. That’s why I’m calling. We need a couple of your award-winning breakfast sandwiches that we can grab on the way to the park.”
“Boy, my last name is Carter, not McDonald.”
“Come on, Mama.”
“Where we going? To a restaurant so y’all can get something to eat?”
“You’re really not going to cook for us?”
“Yeah, I’ll make them. Five dollars apiece.”
“You’re serious?”
“As a venereal disease during a penicillin shortage.”
“Dang, Mama. That’s hardcore.”
“You want sausage or bacon?”
“Both.”
“What time y’all coming by?”
“As soon as Doug stops throwing up.”
“Lord have mercy, that poor child. I might give him his for free.”
Thirty minutes later the Carter brothers were cruising down Crenshaw. For Doug, Liz Carter’s sandwich, his father Willie’s spicy tomato juice hangover concoction, and four aspirin had worked their magic. His belly was full and his head had stopped pounding. That and the perfect autumn weather had Doug actually looking forward to spending some time outside.
Barry slowed for a red light, his head bobbing to a hip-hop beat on the car stereo. “So how much did it cost?”
Doug looked over at him. “What?”
“The bribe for you to go out with Nelson. He had to pay you something because the club is definitely not your thing.”
“Naw, it was a birthday party for a dude from the block. Otherwise I wouldn’t have . . .” Doug’s sentence faded, his attention grabbed by a scene in a nearby parking lot. He leaned forward, pulled off his shades.”
“What’s the matter?”
“Nothing. I just thought I saw somebody I know.”
The light changed. As Barry drove by the parking lot Doug’s eyes stayed trained on the woman in the parking lot helping a wheelchair-bound man into a van. “That was her.”
“Who?”
Doug shook his head. “Nobody you know.” And somebody Doug figured he didn’t know as much as he wanted to. Come Monday, he decided, that was all going to change.
Doug survived the run and his baby brother Barry. Sunday was brunch with the Carters and a day of football. By Sunday night, he felt as good as new.
But as it turned out, talking to Jan at the workplace was easier said than done. Mondays were always busy, but with Melissa deciding to call in sick, today was off the charts. There was barely time for small talk until after the doors to the public had been locked and Jan came to the back to help with the afternoon processing.
“Today proved me wrong,” she said once she’d set up shop across from him and began processing her batch.
“How’s that?”
“I didn’t think this location ever got busy.”
Doug chuckled. “You’d be surprised. Wait until the holidays.”
“I like it. Makes the day go by faster.”
“Yeah, it also gives us a chance to work overtime. I hope you’re up for staying a couple extra hours.”
Jan’s hands stilled as she looked up. “I’m really not.”
Doug stopped working, too. “Sorry, but on days like this, it can’t be helped. We talked about this during your orientation, remember? Because the branch is small, personnel is low. Sometimes we all have to chip in extra to get the work done.”
“I don’t have a problem with doing my part. Just not tonight.”
“What’s happening tonight? Or is that question off limits because it’s”—he made air quotes—“personal.”
“I have an obligation that can’t be canceled. It’s very important.” Her discomfort was obvious as she began to chew her lip. “What if I work through my lunch break instead?”
“No can do. Breaks are mandatory. Even if they weren’t, you’d still have to stay late. We’re looking at about two hours over and your lunch break is only thirty minutes.”
“And we have no control over whether or not we work over, even if it conflicts with a previously scheduled, very important engagement?”
“Engagement, or date?” Doug smiled to show he was joking. She didn’t look amused. “Don’t answer that. I was teasing but need to remember that you don’t like to play. I’m assuming it’s a date because I can’t think of anything else important that would start after nine p.m., your normal time off.”
“It’s not a date.” Jan pulled out her phone and began texting. “Just something that I do on Mondays that’s very important to me. Not being there could be . . . there could be dire consequences if I don’t show.”
“I’m really sorry, Jan. If I’d known earlier I could have asked somebody from the day tour to stay.”
“If I’d known earlier, I could have informed you.”
Jan’s frustration was evident, but Doug wasn’t going to take the blame for something he couldn’t control. “I didn’t know either. Obviously this afternoon’s rush was something we didn’t plan. I’m sorry about whatever it is you wanted to do, but it’s part of working this tour at this location. Or any other, really, if they’re short-staffed.”
Jan said nothing, but Doug could clearly see that she was angry. It wasn’t his fault that she hadn’t read her orientation information more carefully. Still, he felt bad and for some strange reason felt it was his responsibility
to make her feel better.
“Want to take our break before tackling the next bin?”
“Yes, but I’m going to run an errand real quick and grab something from a drive-through.”
“Can I go with you?”
“I don’t want to be rude, but—”
“You’d rather I not go?”
“I hope you’re not offended.”
“Does it have anything to do with the guy I saw you with this weekend, the one in the wheelchair?”
Jan’s shocked, concerned expression made him regret the question.
“I’m not trying to be all in your business,” he continued, his voice low. “Over the weekend I was out with my brother and saw you with him in a parking lot by the Baldwin Hills Crenshaw mall. It got me wondering whether or not he was why you’re so serious. And why my antics on the motorcycle make you so angry.”
He watched her shoulders slump as she turned off her machine. “Come with me to lunch and I’ll answer your question. Maybe it’s best that you know.”
8
They settled into Jan’s Hyundai. She started the car and eased out of the parking lot, careful to look both ways, twice.
“Seat belt,” she said as she pulled out into traffic.
Doug quickly complied. “Yes, ma’am.”
In spite of her damp mood, Jan found herself smiling. “You answered me as one would their mom. I’m not that bad.” She glanced at him. “Am I?”
“Not really. It’s just that your buttons are easy to push.”
“That’s probably true.” They reached a bank. Jan parked the car. “I’ll be right back.”
“Bring me back a hundred.”
Jan stopped and quickly turned around, hand out. “Give me your card.” She huffed and came perilously close to an eye roll. “Well, where is it? We only have thirty minutes.”
“Calm down, Jan. I was just playing!”
She relaxed her stance. “So was I. Be right back.”
His laughter followed her to the ATM. She retrieved money, returned the text she’d received from a friend, and walked back to the car.
“I’ve got to give it to you,” Doug said as she entered the car. “For a second there, you had me going.”
“Just wanted to show you my lighter side.”
“I like that lighter side.”
His comment sent Jan’s heartbeat into overdrive and sent squiggles down her insides that made her kundalini tingle. They drove a few blocks in silence while her mind tried to convince her body that she wasn’t interested in the man in her car. The tall, casually attractive man with swagger who’d occupied her thoughts way too much.
“The man you saw me with this weekend.” She began to shift her focus. “That was Lionel, my brother.”
Doug nodded but remained silent.
“He was in an accident almost two years ago. A motorcycle accident”—she glanced at him quickly—“that left him paralyzed from the waist down.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“We all were, and are still coming to grips with it.”
“How old is he?”
“He was sixteen when it happened, eighteen now.”
“Man. That’s a hard blow right there. Real hard. Now I understand the other day and why you reacted the way you did. I’m really sorry about that.”
“It’s okay. You didn’t know.”
“No, it’s not okay. I was acting a fool and making light of something that rocked your brother’s world, and your family’s as well. Can’t tell you how many times I’ve performed crazy antics on my bike. Been doing so since handling my first one at barely thirteen. I consider myself a good rider doing stunts I’ve pulled for years. But you never know. One wrong, unexpected move and—” Doug shook his head, looked out the window. When he turned back, he asked her, “What happened?”
They stopped at an intersection with fast-food restaurants on three of the four corners. “Hamburgers okay?”
“I was thinking chicken. With red beans and rice.”
“That’ll work for me.” She drove across the street and turned into the drive-through lane already crowded with cars waiting in line. “One of Lionel’s friend’s uncles had let him borrow the motorcycle. He was only seventeen and, unlike you, hadn’t much experience driving one. He was only supposed to take it around the block but ended up over at our house where he asked Lionel to jump on the back for a spin. My brother is always up for adventure and didn’t hesitate or think twice. He jumped on the back, without a helmet, for what he thought would be a simple, short ride. And if not for the car that decided to do fifty miles an hour down a residential street, it would have been.”
“Damn.”
“Lionel was thrown off the cycle. His back hit a tree, breaking his spine and leaving him a paraplegic. Whoever was driving the car was at fault. But not responsible. They fled the scene and abandoned the car a few miles down the road. It ended up being a huge legal mess, one that we’re still trying to untangle. We know the owner of the car, but they say it was stolen. We can’t prove who was driving. So Lionel’s medical and other bills have mostly been on my mom to handle. And even though he was on her insurance, there was a cap on what they’d pay. Once that ran out my mom took a second job and . . .”
“You came to work for the post office.”
Jan nodded. They reached the mike and placed their orders. The break from the conversation came just in time. There was a lot to process. Once they’d received their food, Doug suggested a quiet residential street near the post office for them to park and eat, and be away from looky-loos. She followed his direction, parked the car, and pulled their food from the bags. For a while, they ate in silence.
“Is that what you had to do tonight? Something for your brother?”
“No,” Jan said, reaching for a napkin. “It’s something for me.”
“That you can’t tell me because it’s private.”
“It’s not a guy if that’s what you think. It’s what I was pursuing pretty much full-time before the accident. I used to tell everybody who’d listen what I did but found out that everyone isn’t happy when you follow your dreams.”
“That’s what was happening tonight?”
“Yes.”
“Now I really feel bad. Not that I could have changed anything but still.”
“You should feel bad. And you should let me leave at nine.”
“What’s happening then?”
“If this ends up in the Normandie branch gossip mill, I’ll know who told.”
Doug raised his hand. “Your secret’s safe with me.”
She placed the bone from her chicken leg in the bag and reached for her fries. “I’m a singer.”
“Oh, for real?” She nodded. “What does that mean exactly, like for fun or what?”
“It’s more than a hobby. Singing is something I take seriously and do professionally as often as possible.”
“Wow, a singer. That’s pretty cool.” Jan smiled, ate in silence. “So you had a gig or something tonight?”
“It’s a showcase for a chance to compete on a reality TV show.”
“Like American Idol?”
“In a way but not quite.”
“Oh, I see.”
Jan didn’t think so. Unless one was an artist or a person with a dream, it was hard to grasp how important any opportunity to get a break was. That one situation where the right place met the right time when the right person was there, and after ten years of trying you became an overnight success.
“So where are you singing next? I’d like to come hear you sometime.”
“I appreciate that, but I like to keep those two worlds separate.”
“So nobody who works on your day job can see you at night? Girl, this is LA. Everybody has a side hustle. I know of a few postal workers who’ve caught a break in entertainment. One reached the finals for a chance to be on The Voice.”
Jan became quiet, recalling the excitement of her TV debut, and lone such a
ppearance. She’d been young, filled with hope, sure that her appearance on Showtime at the Apollo would lead to a record deal, worldwide success, and more money than she could ever spend. It hadn’t quite worked out like that.
With a glance at her watch Jan placed her empty containers into the paper bag. Doug did the same. She started the car and pulled away from the curb. Within minutes, she turned into the back parking lot of the Normandie branch, found an open space, and parked the car.
Doug opened his door. “Thanks for the ride.”
“Thanks for dinner,” Jan responded, exiting the car behind him. “Although it really wasn’t necessary for you to buy it for me.”
“I know it wasn’t. That made it even better. A chance to show one of you modern women that chivalry isn’t dead.”
“A modern woman? That’s how you see me?”
“No, I see you as a lowly postal worker. But if you let me come and hear you sing, I might see you as a superstar.”
“Look at you, trying a psychological strategy to get me to change my mind.”
“Did it work?”
“No.”
“Damn.”
They both cracked up.
The unexpectedly heavy workload and short staff made it impossible for Doug to let Jan off early. Instead, they left forty-five minutes past their normal off time.
She looked at her watch and pulled out her phone.
Doug saw her. “Think you can make it?”
“I don’t know, but I have a friend there who looks out for me. He’ll let me know if there are any slots left.” When the call went to voice mail, she sent him a text. “It’s probably too late,” she said with a sigh. “The club is in the valley, a good thirty to forty-five minutes away.”
“I’m really sorry about that.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“I know. But I still feel bad.”
As they neared her vehicle, Jan reached into her purse, pulled out a card, and held it up.
“What’s this?” he asked, and took what she offered.
