As the evening progressed, the cocktail party became much more exuberant and Sasha found herself on the dance floor most of the night. She started out dancing in her seat, and a few drinks later she was on the floor doing the electric slide. It was a nice end to her vacation. Unfortunately, Vince didn’t show up, and she found herself wondering when and if she’d ever see him again.
Chapter 10
Gabrielle Sullivan was a tall, model-like woman, with beautiful mocha skin and long, flowing hair. In heels, she stood almost as tall as Vince. When they were younger, she could easily beat him in a game of one-on-one or run just as fast up and down the block. In recent years, though, she’d outgrown her tomboyish manner, and it was difficult for Vince to come to terms with the change. He still saw her as his little sister, not the beautiful woman she had become.
She stood at the top of the escalator smiling and waving as he approached. With jeans that were too tight in Vince’s opinion, a leather jacket and high-heeled boots, she could’ve easily graced the cover of any fashion magazine.
“You look all rested,” Gabrielle said once he reached her.
“I feel well rested.” Vince gave her a hug.
“Derrick was supposed to wait for me.” She put on a pouty face. “I’d have married him in a heartbeat. I’ve always thought he was cute.”
“Well, he’s cute and married now. And way too old for you anyway.”
“Not much older. And besides, women are dating older men these days, Vince,” said Gabrielle. “I date older men these days.”
“Not a subject I care to discuss, Gabby.” Vince quickly moved toward baggage claim and Gabrielle followed.
“Why, Vincent? Why can’t we discuss my love life? I’m just as grown as you are. And besides, I have someone I want you to meet.”
“Who?”
“His name is Ronald.”
“Does he know you have a crazy brother?”
“He knows you’re a bit touched.” Gabrielle laughed and Vince gave her a serious look. She sighed. “Yes, he knows that he must meet with your approval.”
Vince waited for his bag to turn up on the carousel and once spotted, he grabbed it.
“Who is this guy anyway? And where did you meet him?”
“He’s a stockbroker. And I met him through a mutual friend.”
“Is he married?”
“No. Of course not.”
“Any children or crazy baby mamas?”
“None of the above. He’s single. No children. He has a master’s in finance, owns a home and drives a nice car. He wears Hanes underwear. You know, the ones that are endorsed by Michael Jordan?”
“Ha-ha, very funny, little girl.” Vince squeezed her nose as he used to when she was a young girl.
“See, that’s just it, Vince. I’m not a little girl anymore. And you have to stop treating me like one.”
“When you’re ninety-two years old, you’ll still be my little sister.”
“That’s if you’re still alive when I’m ninety-two.”
“Even if I’m dead and gone, you’ll still be my little sister. And I’ll still need to approve of that old geezer that you’ve met in the nursing home—you know the one that’ll be gumming his soup because he can’t find his false teeth. I’ll come back and haunt you both.”
“You are so stupid.” Gabrielle laughed heartily and so did Vince.
Vince grabbed Gabrielle by the neck, pulled her close and planted a kiss on her forehead. “But you love me though.”
“I do love you,” she said. “And I missed your peanut head, too.”
“You up for a game of basketball tomorrow after your classes?”
“Nah. I’m meeting Ronald for lunch in Midtown and probably a matinee at the movies.”
“Are you kidding me? Now you’re blowing me off for this Ronald dude?” Vince looked wounded. “Unbelievable!”
“I’m not blowing you off. But I do have a life, Vincent.” Gabrielle smiled. “You should get you one too. Find you a nice woman and settle down. When you gonna do that?”
“We’re not talking about my life. We’re talking about yours.”
“Maybe we should talk about your life. Didn’t you meet anyone in the Bahamas?”
Vince was silent.
“Oh, my God, you met someone in the Bahamas! Who?”
“No one really.”
“You’re such a liar!”
“Nobody special. Just some woman I’ll probably never see again. End of story.”
“Does she live in the Bahamas? Is she one of those island girls with a beautiful accent?”
“She lives in Atlanta.”
“Seriously? Then why won’t you see her again? I don’t understand.”
“I don’t think she’s interested.”
“You like her,” Gabrielle stated matter-of-factly. “You should see your face when you talk about her! You’re trying to be all hard, but I see right through that.”
Vince tried to maintain a poker face for his sister, but it wasn’t working. He smiled a little. He did like Sasha. He liked her more than she or anyone else knew.
“When can I meet her?” she asked.
“I just said she’s not interested. I really don’t think she wants to see me again. So the quick answer is...never.”
“Why wouldn’t she want to see you again?” Gabrielle gave Vince an inquisitive look. “What did you do to her?”
“I didn’t do anything...except...”
“Except what?”
“I didn’t do anything to her. She’s just not interested, okay?”
“When has that ever stopped you? You always go after what you want.”
She was correct. Vince usually did go after what he wanted, and he was usually pretty successful at getting it.
“Not this time,” he said. He would go on with life as he knew it. What he shared with Sasha had been short-lived. He had his memories, and that would have to suffice.
He tossed his bag into the trunk of Gabrielle’s BMW and hopped into the passenger’s seat, snapped on his seat belt and placed a pair of dark sunglasses on his face. As she breezed down Interstate 285, Vince rested his head against the leather seat and shut his eyes. He hoped that Sasha Winters would not creep into his dreams again.
Chapter 11
The smell of fried chicken and collard greens hit Vince’s nose the minute he walked into the house. Leaving his suitcase at the front door, he made a beeline for the kitchen. A mountain of golden-brown chicken rested on a platter. He found collard greens, mashed potatoes and a cast-iron skillet filled with corn bread on the stove. There was no doubt, his mother had been there and prepared dinner for him.
Dolores Sullivan was a thoughtful woman, and she loved her children. She was an older, more beautiful version of Gabrielle—tall and dark with just a hint of gray in her hair. She had a plump figure that had probably been considered pleasantly plump in her day. She was a widow who had single-handedly raised two children by herself. She’d moved her family from New Jersey to Atlanta when Vince was in elementary school, with hopes of providing a better life. The cost of living was better for sure, and the schools were much safer for Vince and Gabrielle. She had worked two jobs—sometimes three just to make ends meet—and was determined to put both of her children through college. To Vince, she was the greatest woman in the world.
Years after Vince’s father passed away, Dolores discovered trust funds that he’d established for his children the very day he died. The trusts had earned an enormous amount of interest over the years and were worth millions of dollars by the time Vince and his sister became young adults. Vince had bought a house and a car with his, as well as paid off his mother’s mortgage and his student loans. He’d invested the rest.
He
grabbed a chicken leg and took a bite before taking the stairs to his master bedroom. His laundry had been done also and put away in its rightful place. It wasn’t unusual for his mother to spend the weekend at his east Atlanta home, especially when he wasn’t there. Whenever she visited, she always made it a point to prepare a nice meal for him and to do his laundry. When in college, he would often drop his laundry off at home for his mother. Things hadn’t changed much—instead of him dropping his clothes off, she came to his house.
He dialed her number and she picked up on the second ring.
“The chicken is fire,” he said.
“I guess that means it’s good.” Dolores had a smile in her voice.
“That means it’s really good. You’re too much, Ma. Cooking for me and doing my laundry. That’s why I love you.”
“You love me because I do your laundry?”
“No, because you take such great care of me.”
“It’s my pleasure to take care of you, sweetie,” said Dolores. “Glad to see that you’re back safe and sound. Was Gabby on time to pick you up?”
“Yeah, she was. She just dropped me off. She was dressed in these tight jeans and high-heeled boots. Did you see her before she left the house?”
“She has her own place now, Vincent. Remember?”
“Oh, yeah. I try to forget about that little piece of real estate that she purchased last month. I probably need to take a look at her portfolio and see how she’s spending her money.”
“She’s a grown-up, honey. A big girl.”
“I know. I just don’t want her spending carelessly. And I don’t want anyone using her for her money either. Did she tell you about what’s-his-name?”
“Oh, you mean Ronald?”
“You met him?”
“He’s a nice young man, Vince. I think you’ll like him. Just as mannerly as he wants to be, and he’s got a good job—” she paused, waited for a reaction from Vince “—and he’s a nice-looking fellow.”
“Can’t wait to meet him so I can give him the third degree.”
“Don’t be too hard on him, Vincent. She really likes him.” Dolores changed the subject. “So how was the wedding? I want to hear all about it. I bet Derrick looked as handsome as ever! And his bride was probably drop-dead gorgeous.”
“The wedding was very nice, Ma.” Vince placed his mother on speakerphone while he changed into a pair of sweats and his New York Giants jersey. “As a matter of fact, Derrick will be here in a minute. We’re watching the game.”
“Isn’t he still on his honeymoon? Has he already abandoned that new wife of his for Monday night football?”
“It’s what we do, Ma. Bridget knows that. That’s not going to stop because he got married.”
“I guess not. I’m glad I fried enough chicken.”
“Oh, I’m not sharing my chicken!” Vince had already made plans to wrap the chicken in foil and stick it in the oven. “Taj and Mike are coming too. And I’m not sharing with them either. This is a BYOMF...bring your own mama’s food.”
Dolores laughed heartily. “You are some kind of mess, boy. I didn’t teach you to be selfish. You share that chicken with your friends.”
The doorbell rang and Vince knew it was probably one of them.
“Gotta go, Ma. One of them knuckleheads is here.”
“Okay, baby. Have a good time.” Dolores understood Vince’s love for football. She had been a sports mom for a long time. She’d spent many a day cheering in the stands at his games, transporting him and his friends to practices, working the concession stands and helping with fundraisers.
“I will.”
After hanging up, he rushed down the stairs and swung the door open.
“I brought the Heineken.” Derrick raised a six-pack of beer into the air, shook hands with Vince and stepped inside. He headed for the kitchen. “Wait a minute. Is that Mama Sullivan’s fried chicken I smell?”
“No...no, it’s not.” Vince followed his friend.
Derrick spotted the chicken with a wide grin on his face. Vince stood in front of the stove with his arms stretched wide.
“Come on, man. Why you being so stingy?”
The doorbell rang and interrupted him. He warned Derrick, “Don’t touch anything! I’ll be right back.”
The minute Vince left the kitchen Derrick grabbed a crisp piece of chicken and bit into it. He closed his eyes and savored the taste. He knew that flavor quite well. He’d spent many days at the Sullivan household growing up and ate many meals there. Dolores Sullivan was a second mother to him, and she’d fed him often. He took another bite and yelled from the kitchen, “This is good, V!”
Vince greeted Taj and Mike at the door.
“Hey, what’s up, bro?” said Taj and shook Vince’s hand. “What time is kickoff?”
“Five minutes,” said Vince.
“We’re just in time. I tried to get here sooner, but Pretty Boy Floyd here was too busy primping as if there were some women over here.”
“I have to look good before I leave the house,” said Mike. “You never know who or what you might run into.”
Vince took Mike’s hand in a firm handshake. “And you’re still as ugly as ever. So I don’t understand.”
Vince and Taj laughed. Mike didn’t.
“You ready to see those Giants get spanked tonight? That’s what you should understand.” Mike carried a case of Coke underneath his arm. “I see you’re wearing your tired, faded L.T. jersey.”
Vince had been a diehard Giants fan for years. Even after his family moved to Atlanta, he remained a fan of New York since elementary school. Lawrence Taylor had long been his favorite player in the league, and he’d worn the same jersey since college. “I think you already know whose game this is, right?”
The Giants were playing their rival team, which happened to be Mike’s team of choice. He wore a blue Cowboys jersey with a long-sleeved turtleneck underneath. “Yeah, I do know whose game it is. Cowboys, of course.”
“Is that fried chicken I smell?” Taj interrupted their banter. He knew the answer to his question when he saw Derrick at the dining room table with a plate filled with chicken, greens and mashed potatoes.
“Your mother’s been here,” Mike said matter-of-factly.
“What makes you think that, man? I know how to cook,” said Vince. “I don’t need my mother to cook for me.”
“He can cook,” Taj agreed with Vince.
Taj was the most amenable person Vince knew. He’d never been into it with Taj. There was no reason to. Taj had never been a confrontational person. On the contrary, he was an expert at defusing hostile situations. Taj had married his high school sweetheart, Elaine, and the couple had lived in the city of Atlanta since college. He was the poster child for the American dream—beautiful wife, beautiful house, two cars, two children and church on Sunday. At least it appeared that way.
“That may be true. Nobody’s debating his cooking skills. In fact, his cooking skills are a lot better than his football skills.” Mike laughed at his own criticism of Vince.
Mike was the competitive one. He was great at diminishing someone else’s light so that his could shine brighter. If someone bought a car, he needed a faster one. If someone met a new woman, he needed a prettier one. It was his nature. “I know your mother’s fried chicken. I’ve eaten it enough over the years to recognize it by smell.”
Mike had been the quarterback for their college team, and he had been the star of the squad. Unfortunately, he hadn’t quite made the transition from being a star in college to becoming a star in real life. He thought that he was supposed to receive the same free ride in life that he’d received in college. By the time the reality of it hit him it was too late. He’d wasted too much time drinking and partying while life-changing opportunities had passed him by
. He’d become an insurance agent instead of the engineer that he’d gone to school to become, and the fact of it haunted him daily. Consequently, he wasn’t pleased with himself or his career and had turned to drinking as a coping mechanism. After a serious drunken driving incident and several AA meetings later, he was a recovering alcoholic.
“He’s right about that,” Derrick yelled from the dining table, his mouth full. “Your mother’s food does have a distinct smell.”
“Gimme the Coke, man.” Vince grabbed the soda from Mike’s arms and took it to the kitchen.
Mike followed, got a plate off the shelf and didn’t hesitate to load it with food. “Did she make dessert too?”
Vince gave him a cross-eyed look.
The four of them had been friends as far back as Vince could remember. He’d met Derrick in ninth grade and Taj in the eleventh grade. Mike had joined the trio their freshmen year at Georgia State when the four of them played football together. Of the three, Vince had been closest with Derrick.
Derrick was a genuine person and a man of his word. He did what he said he would do. Sometimes in life, adjustments were warranted. Derrick didn’t handle adjustments very well. There was no deviating from his plan, which is why his engagement to Bridget was a rocky one. The guest list had changed a dozen times, and the venue twice. And finally, the wedding date had been pushed up three times. Vince thought Derrick would abandon the plans altogether.
When Derrick first met Bridget, Vince wondered if the pair would last three months. They were as different as night and day. Bridget was extravagant; Derrick was prudent. Bridget could be flighty; Derrick was sensible. However, their love had withstood the test of time. Derrick had become more accommodating.
Tropical Fantasy Page 8
