by Emery, Lynn
“Hey, watch it.” Michelle gave a yelp. Laughing, she brushed at front of her dark red sweater dress. “What am I, a bowl of cereal?”
“Sorry. I'll pay to get it cleaned.” Anthony reached out and began to rub the soft fabric. Realizing what he was doing, he snatched back his hand. “Uh, sorry. I mean I wasn't trying to-- I was trying to get the sugar off,” he mumbled.
“It's okay.”Michelle paused in the middle of brushing crumbs from her lap.”Look at us. Fumbling and stumbling with each other, walking on eggshells.”She threw down her napkin.
“I wasn't this nervous on my first date when I was twelve.” Anthony grinned at her.
“And after the recital, we sounded like an echo. `Wasn't it great?' `Yes, great'. `It was really great!'What was that all about?” Michelle chuckled, shaking her head.
“I'm just thankful I came up with the idea to come here or we might still be sitting in my car babbling `great' to each other,” Anthony quipped. They both laughed hysterically.
“That's one sound even sweeter than the music they were playing.” Anthony's gazed at her still smiling. “Know what I think? Neither one of us wants to say anything hurtful, even it's unintentional. And you know what that means.”
“What?” Michelle traced a line on the table top in a pile of sugar.
“That we still care something about each other. It means...” Anthony placed his hand on hers.
“I don't want to rush into anything, Anthony. The distance between us has been more than just miles and time. Maybe the best we can hope for is to be friendly acquaintances who speak politely if we happen to meet.” Drawing her hand back, Michelle avoided his eyes.
“Why can't we be friends who get together occasionally for lunch or dinner? I know you're seeing someone. I'm not trying to get in your business, but if he has a problem with it I'll understand.” Anthony's jaw tightened and he gripped his coffee mug.”I mean, if y'all agreed to not see other people.”
“Dosu isn't like that at all. He's the most secure person I've ever known.”Michelle had no intention of telling him that her relationship Dosu was more of a trusted confidant than lover.
“Then what's the problem?”
“It's even more than that. Eventually we'll be arguing about your Uncle Ike again.” Michelle bit her lower lip. Anthony's bond with Ike ran too deep. Maybe deeper than his feelings for her?
“We're adults now. We don't need to keep fighting the battles of our families. If we concentrate on us, then we can get past it.” Anthony tugged at her hand to get her to look at him.”At least give it a try.”
“Let me think about it.”
“Okay.” Anthony held her hand for a few moments before letting go.
The rest of the evening was less tense and they talked about what each had been doing for the past five years. Watching him, Michelle was struck by how he had changed yet remained the same. Though he was more self-assured, he could be just as boyishly enthusiastic about his interests. His eyes lit up as he talked about his volunteer work with teenage boys. He totally lost all self-consciousness as he described the outreach programs his church had instituted. Michelle felt growing admiration for the man he had become. With a mixture of dismay and satisfaction, she admitted that she indeed wanted to be with him. But, she told herself firmly, only for friendship. Nothing else was realistic.
“Well, I had a really nice time.” Michelle unlocked her front door and turned to face him.
The scent of his cologne beckoned to her tantalizingly, an invisible magnetic force she had to pull against. Michelle gave a slight shake of her head to clear it. His deep, rich voice sent a tremor through her.
“So did I. See you soon?” Anthony's eyes smoldered with fire.
Michelle couldn’t move or break away from his compelling gaze. “Yes,” she breathed. Realizing she was on the brink of promising much more, she shoved the door open behind her.”Goodnight.”She had to get away fast.
“Goodnight, Chelle.”
Shutting the door behind her, Michelle stood in the middle of her living room trying to slow her breathing. With each passing minute. She tried to convince herself that she could keep him at arm’s length. No ma'am, she told herself sternly. You are going to stick to the original plan and keep him out of your life. Even as the words rang in her head, Michelle felt a tickling of doubt that she could or truly wanted to be without him.
***
“Girlfriend, jump on it is what I say.” Laree lifted a fork filled with salad. Waving her hand, the lettuce swung crazily. “Honestly, I don't know why you even have to think about it.”
“Amen. I mean, he's fine, successful, smart, and goes to church. Honey, if you don't jump on it, somebody will.” Shantae dabbed wiped her mouth with a napkin before taking another bit of her shrimp po-boy.
“Y'all know perfectly well what happened. I called his Uncle Ike a scumbag, more than once. It kind of put a strain on the relationship last time.”Michelle picked at her salad.
“So? The man told you all is forgiven and apologized for the way he acted. What more do you want?” Shantae lifted a shoulder slightly.
“Yeah, what's the deal? Besides, all that stuff happened a long time ago,” Laree said.
“The deal is Ike Batiste sucked my father into a business deal that almost ruined him. When the you-know-what hit the fan, Ike Batiste came out smelling like a rose. He didn't lift a finger to help him. Daddy paid a huge fine that sent him into bankruptcy, and Ike Batiste kept right on making money.”Michelle put her fork down.
“Michelle, you won't be dating Ike Batiste. Anthony didn't have anything to do with what his uncle did,” Shantae said.
“Shantae, I can't just pretend everything is cool. Every time I see the man, I get ticked off all over again. And Anthony is still real close to his uncle,” Michelle said.
“Lots of people don't get along with their boyfriend’s relatives. But you can get around it, girl.” Shantae tapped the table with one long, fuchsia colored fingernail.
“I doubt it.”Michelle shook her head.
“Yes you can. Naturally you can't attack the man every time you see him, but you can learn to put up with him.” Shantae leaned forward.
“Michelle has a point.”Laree screwed up her face.
“Say what? You just finished saying it was no big deal.” Shantae's mouth dropped open.
“Yeah, but the more I think about it, the more I think Chelle is right. I read this article in Essence Magazine--”Laree stopped eating.
“Here we go,” Shantae blurted.”This woman plans her whole life on magazine articles.”
“No listen, this noted African-American clinical social worker wrote about factors that contribute to a relationship or marriage not working. High on the list was conflicts with in-laws.”Laree held up a forefinger.
“It just so happens I remember that article, thank you. She also said that two mature adults committed to each other should make it clear to both their families that their relationship comes first. And if possible, avoid subjects and situations that lead to arguments.”Shantae smiled at Laree smugly.
“I'm so confused,” Michelle groaned.
“Bottom line, do you want him?”Shantae sat back and eyed her intently.
“I--, we--” Michelle stammered.
“Yes or no,” Shantae demanded.
“It's not that simple.” Michelle turned to Laree for help.
Laree's eyebrows arched. “Don't look at me.”
“Uh-huh, that's what I thought. Like I said, jump on it.”Shantae resumed eating dismissing Michelle's attempts to protest.
Michelle breathed deeply. “Thanks a lot.”
“Michelle, you know what you want to do. You just don't want to admit it.” Shantae had not the slightest look of sympathy for her.
“She's right, girlfriend. If you didn't have strong feelings for the man, we wouldn't even be having this discussion.” Laree changed sides again.
“Y'all don't get it. This isn't some Luther
Vandross love song video. This is real life. I don't think the past can just be swept under the rug. No, friends maybe but that's all.” Michelle stabbed a cherry tomato with force as she pretended not to see the skeptical looks Laree and Shantae exchanged.
***
Michelle paced up and down. At his request, she had agreed to meet Greg Matthews at the Greyhound Bus Station. He had been reluctant to explain exactly why he needed to see her, which made her very worried. So far, she had done three stories profiling residents of public housing. She wasn't at all sure how long before even Gerald Mansur would begin to question her progress on the investigation into the Housing Authority.
Glancing at the large clock above the ticket counter, Michelle whispered a curse word. Greg was now twenty minutes late. She became uncomfortably aware that a group of three men were eyeing her movements. The oversized sweater she wore did not entirely disguise the soft curves beneath it. Michelle tugged at the hem to make it stretch wider. One spoke low to the others then came towards her. To her great relief, Greg came through the glass doors behind them.
“Hey, Greg. Over here, honey!” Michelle waved enthusiastically to him. As he approached, obviously puzzled at her reaction, she grabbed his arm. “Thank God you finally showed up.”
“Oh, yeah. Sorry.” Greg gave the man a warning stare until he and his buddies retreated to a far corner.
“My wife had to work overtime which meant I had to pick my son up from football practice after school.”
“Next time let's meet at the public library, okay? Now, what's going on?” Michelle sat next to him in the garish blue vinyl chairs. There were only a handful of people waiting in the large lobby.
“My friend says she's going to need more time before she can get the copies. Seems Ms. Kinchen has hired on some new office staff. They're always around since she's training them. My friend can't get to the files without somebody wondering what she's up to.” Greg sat hunched forward as if cold.
“How much more time?”Michelle's heart sank.
“Maybe another week, maybe more. If Ms. Kinchen takes them out to the different housing sites it could be next week, but my friend isn't sure when that's gonna be.”
“Damn. No way she could do it after hours?”
“Nope. Could be she's a little paranoid 'cause of what she's planning, but she thinks Ms. Kinchen is watching everybody,” Greg said.
“She may be right, Greg. I've done some reports on residents in the projects. They may suspect something else is coming.”Michelle's brows drew together.”I don't want her to take any risks with her job. Guess I'll just have to be patient.”
“Yeah, it's worse than that.”Greg twisted his hands nervously.
“How?”
“There's some rough dudes working at the Authority now. James Bridges has been taking guys outta prison and getting 'em jobs there. At least ten of 'em working in maintenance now.”
“Nothing wrong with giving brothers a break. Or is there?”Michelle was even more intrigued at this news.
“Yeah, except these guys are sorta like enforcers. I hear they been strong arming people into giving them money, radios and stuff to make sure they get repairs done. Ain't nobody talking 'cause they too scared. Maybe even dealing outta the apartment complex for old people on Gracie Street.”
“Those no good--, tell your friend to take her time and get me everything she can. We're going to do this right so we can nail as many of them as we can.”Michelle was angry and disgusted.
“I hope so. Nobody's been able to do it before. Listen, ma'am, you better be careful too.”Greg's eyes were full of concern.”They can get pretty nasty.”
“I'm not worried. They may get really mad about reporters, but even most criminals know it doesn't pay to bother us. It just makes reporters start nosing into their business.”Michelle smiled at him reassuringly.
***
As it happened, Michelle had an interview the next day with LaWanda Sibley, a young single mother of three living in a subsidized apartment complex in the northern part of the city. LaWanda had struggled to finish a nursing assistant course at a local vocational school and was still trying to get a job. Greg had given Michelle her name. At LaWanda's suggestion, Michelle came in the mornings since most of the young thugs and drug dealers slept until early afternoon.
“Hey, girl. You was kickin' it on TV the other night. You gone be in charge down there 'fore long.”LaWanda met her at the screen door with Relondo, her two year old baby boy, perched on her hip.
“Thanks, but I don't think so.”Michelle grinned as she tickled the baby. His plump brown face dimpled with mirth.
“You know you will. Anyways, that was good. When you gone show me?”LaWanda put the baby down on the worn sofa next to her. He stood on wobbly legs, one hand clutching the front of her blouse, the other stuck in his mouth.
“Next Tuesday.”Before sitting down, Michelle had to push a heap of toys from the sagging chair. She helped LaWanda toss them into an empty cardboard box that held other toys.”How've you been?”
“Same old same old. I got applications in at all the hospitals but I ain't heard nothin' yet. So, I just been catchin' up on all my favorite soaps.”LaWanda jerked a thumb over her shoulder at the television.
“Don't be discouraged. You'll get something.”
“I guess.”LaWanda brushed her hand over Relondo's bushy black curls. Her expression said she was used to disappointment. In her life, not getting a job barely above minimum wage was certainly not the biggest one she had experienced.
“You will.”Michelle tried to sound hopeful.”LaWanda, remember I told you there are rumors that the district attorney is looking into wrongdoing in the Housing Authority?”
“Yeah, we coulda told 'em that long time ago,” LaWanda said.
“But they need proof to do anything about it. I've just been doing profiles of people like you. You know, where you work, what your goals are for the future, things like that. I was planning to report on how hard it is to get repairs done. Now I hear from somebody that ex-convicts are shaking down residents, even dealing drugs out of the one of the projects. You heard any of that?” Michelle watched her closely.
“Keep your voice down, girl.”LaWanda got up and went to the open door. She scanned the area outside.”Who told you that?”
“I can't say. Well?”Michelle spoke more softly as she followed LaWanda's gaze outside.
“Look, all I know is some of them maintenance guys done got to be good buddies with some of the dudes dealin' 'round here. And don't go askin' too many people 'bout it. Shirley lives one apartment, and she's down goin' with one of 'em.”LaWanda sat at the end of the sofa closer to Michelle speaking in a low voice.
“How long has this been going on?”
“It's gotten real bad in the last three months. Matter of fact, a coupla people got windows broke outta they apartments the day after they threatened to complain to the HUD office in New Orleans.”
“Folks are scared I bet. Maybe they won't be willing to talk to me, especially not on camera.”Michelle began to get discouraged again. First the delay from Greg's friend, now this.
“I don't know.”LaWanda drummed her fingers on the sofa cushion for several seconds thinking hard.”Things gettin' kinda bad. Lemme talk to 'em. We organizin' our tenants association. We even been talkin' to some ladies over at two other projects.”
“Don't do anything that might get them mad at you.”Michelle leaned towards her putting a hand on LaWanda's arm. She know very well that LaWanda was not one to shy away from conflict.
“I ain't worried, honey. One thing good thing about having four brothers is they go after anybody that messes with one of us. Lots of folks know that, too. We gone get these places straight. We got to. Don't look like none of us gone be able to move no time soon. Just cause we poor don't mean we gotta live this way.”LaWanda, forgetting her own warning, spoke in a loud, brash voice.
“Still, be careful. Your brothers aren't the most reliable charact
ers. What if you can't find them?”
“Yeah, you right.”LaWanda gave a grunt of disgust.”My luck they'd all be in jail on some charge. But it's no problem. I ain't in this alone. Now ain't you gone finish our interview? I don't want no excuses for my story not gettin' on TV.”
For another hour, Michelle and LaWanda talked more like two women who met at the home of a mutual acquaintance and found they had much in common. Sam, one of the station's other video cam operators, showed up finally to get some footage of LaWanda, her apartment, and the project.
LaWanda was only twenty-three, three years younger than Michelle, yet she had faced so much more. LaWanda had grown up in a succession of foster homes, either ignored or mistreated. Her mother was more interested in her string of live-in lovers than taking care of six children. LaWanda had loved and lost three men, all fathers of her children. Relondo's father had been killed in a drive-by shooting. Yet LaWanda still held on to the dream of a stable, safe life for herself and her children. Michelle liked her dry sense of humor. More than once LaWanda had Michelle and the camera man laughing at situations that should have depressed them all. Finishing up, Michelle thanked LaWanda and gave the baby one last hug.
“Say, you gone keep in touch, right? Come by anytime. You know, to just visit.”LaWanda looked so vulnerable and young standing in the doorway.”I know we ain't nothin' alike. But talkin' to you is like, I dunno, I'm in your world. Sounds stupid, huh?” She looked away, embarrassed.
“No, it doesn't sound stupid,” Michelle said with quiet assurance.”Not at all. I'll be in touch and not just about the story either. We aren't as different as you think, not really.”
Riding back to the station, Michelle began to rehearse her presentation to Lockport and Gerald Mansur on why the series was worth pursuing. She felt a growing determination not to disappoint LaWanda, Greg, and all the other people who had more to lose than she.
