Authors: Candice Dow
W
hat else can I do with my life? My heart used to be so deep into this job that it was all I thought about. As I sit here on hump day, counting the seconds to Friday, I’m wracking my brain with other possibilities. With one elbow propped on my desk and my hand on my head, I gazed out of the window.
When Kia buzzed and disturbed my daydream, I asked her to take a message. She agreed, but buzzed again. I didn’t respond, so she came to my doorway. “Who is it?”
“It’s Rashad. He said that it would be quick.”
Suddenly, he became the target of my frustration. If I wasn’t giving him the money that Derrick left me to live off, I could quit. Why should I be miserable working while he walks around like a king getting paid for love? When I picked up, his calm voice settled my anxiety. “Teem.”
“Yes, Rashad.”
“What are you doing?”
“Working, Rashad.”
“Tell them you have to leave.”
“Uh, it’s not that simple, Rashad. I have work to do.”
“Okay, you don’t have to leave right now, but I’d appreciate if you tried to take off Thursday or Friday or both.”
“For what?”
“I have all-day passes to the US Open.”
“The Open?”
“Yes.”
“How did you get tickets?”
“Anything for the Teem.”
In a second, my mind was at the stadium watching the tennis matches, smiling at Rashad. I giggled. “I’ll see what I can do. I’ll shoot for both. If it’s too much, I’ll just take off on Friday.”
“Okay, baby. I’ll see you later.”
I tied up some loose ends and piled a long list of things to do on Kia’s desk. After apologizing for giving her added stress, I let her know that I’d be out for the next two days. She frowned. “Do you think it’s a good idea considering the nature of the environment?”
Considering that Monday was a holiday, it probably wasn’t smart of me to take off for the rest of the week, but life is too short. I’d begged Derrick to take me to the Open the entire time we were together, but we never got there. I attended as many Knicks’ games and Giants’ games that he had room in his schedule, but never the sport that I love.
In the script, the things I like to do stated that I enjoy going to sporting events, but it didn’t specify the sport. How did he nail it straight on? I spent the entire day thinking about the next day. Technically, I was off today, too.
Rashad called shortly before I left work and told me he was in the neighborhood. I agreed to meet him outside of my office. When I stepped out of the building, it was just like seeing him for the first time. I blinked. He was the same man I’d parted with in the morning, but I was more drawn to him. He gave me a one-arm hug and kissed my forehead. Several shopping bags hung on his arm.
“What’s all that stuff?”
“It’s yours.”
“Mine.”
“Yeah, I noticed you don’t have any sporty clothes. All you have is fly-girl clothes—stilettos and skirts and tight jeans.”
Trying to separate our interlocked fingers, I pulled away from him. “So! Who needs sporty clothes?”
He squinted. “Ah. If you’re planning on going to the Open, you do.”
I chuckled and grabbed his hand again. He snatched it away, so I grabbed his forearm and snuggled close to him. “What did you get me?”
“I’ll show you at dinner.”
He wrapped his arm around my shoulder and I put mine around his waist. Though he spoke sensitively, he looked in an opposite direction. “Anything for the Teem.”
Looking up at him inquisitively, I watched him as he daydreamed. Where had his mind wandered to in a matter of seconds?
We ended up at Negril on 22
nd
Street. After we sat down and ordered a few drinks, he pulled out my outfits. He bought a blue Polo shirt, the 2006 US Open Signature Edition, as he explained. In addition, he purchased a Nike baby-tee with
TENNIS
written on it. He bought me tennis shoes to match both. As I folded the clothes on my lap, I blew a kiss at him. “Thank you, baby.”
His arrogant nod was his way of saying that I was welcome, but it made me chuckle.
When I woke up to the smell of bacon and footsteps pacing back and forth, I heard Rashad’s voice on the phone. I lay still trying to eavesdrop on the intense conversation occurring upstairs.
“Look, three weeks and that’s it.”
After a short pause, he said, “Hell no, it has to be over in three weeks. This is taking up too much of my time. I need to put all my focus on acting.”
He continued, “I know it’s guaranteed money, but it has got to end at some point. If we keep on, this could go on forever. I got better things to do. Either you handle it or I’ll have to do it.”
My heart dropped. Was he planning to have his agent break up with me? I thought this had become real. In three weeks, my script comes to an end? After Derrick died, I promised myself not to worry about what the future held and live every day for its worth. Suddenly, all rational thought escaped me. I wanted to know today about my tomorrows.
When I stepped out of bed, I felt light-headed. My heart ached as I listened to Rashad wrap up plans to end our agreement. I sat on the toilet tempted to cry. It was only temporary from the start. How could I expect him to give up his dream to hang out with me forever? A part of me forgave him and appreciated his will to stay this long.
When I walked upstairs to candles flickering on the table, I was confused. Despite the frustration I heard on the phone, he still gave this role one hundred percent. As I entered the kitchen, he puckered for a kiss and then smiled. “Good morning, beautiful.”
“Hey, Rashad.”
“We can do better than that. Let’s try again. Good morning, beautiful.”
“Good morning.”
With his hands on my shoulders, he turned me around. “Okay, have a seat and I’ll bring the food in there.”
“Can I get some orange juice?”
“I’ll bring it to you. Now, go and relax. I put all the latest gossip magazines on the table.”
“I didn’t buy any magazines this week.”
“I went to the newsstand this morning and bought them for you.”
The latest copies of
inTouch, Us Weekly,
and
People
lay on the table. I hooted, “See, I knew you were into celebrity gossip.”
He chuckled. “Nah. I figured I should start reading what they will be saying about me when I get to Hollywood.”
In a blink, I was reminded of his real aspirations. This role would end in three weeks and he will be on to pursuing his dream. I’ll be here alone again. Where else will I find an actor so perfect that he makes me forget this isn’t real?
I wished I could support him, but I didn’t want to accept that his dream would separate us. So, I slouched into the dining room and sat at the table. As I flipped through the magazines, the gossip didn’t seem as steamy as usual. My mind wandered on to future cover stories:
Did Rashad Watkins play the role of a boy toy for a desperate widow before his big break?
My head began to throb. The whole country would know about me. When he set the plate on the table, I looked down at his scrumptious French toast. He even took time to decorate the plate with garnish. When he sat down, he took my hand and prayed:
“Lord, we thank you for waking us up this morning. We ask that you bless us as we go about our day. We thank you for patience as we wait for the desires of our heart…”
My mind blocked out the rest of the prayer. What desires? Is he insinuating that when he quits, I’ll find someone else? My eyes remained tightly closed as he shook my shoulder. “Amen.”
I jumped and looked at him. “Yeah, Amen.”
“I said, ‘Amen’ like five times. What were you doing? Saying your own prayer?”
I shrugged my shoulders. “I guess.”
By the time we got to National Tennis Center, I had forced myself to get over that we only had three weeks left. He asked if I wanted a drink, I decided to shoot for draft beer. As he handed me a twenty-ounce cup, he joked, “Don’t keep running back and forth to the bathroom.”
“Nope. I’m not going to miss anything.”
As I watched people hustle around me, the big screens and all the courts surrounding us, I still couldn’t believe I was here. I tugged on Rashad’s shirt. “What made you bring me to a tennis match?”
“I listen.” He paused. “You told me that you hadn’t played tennis since you came to New York.”
“Okay, and?”
“It was the way you said it, like you missed the sport.”
“I do.”
“I know. That’s why I purchased lessons for you at Harlem Tennis.”
I shook his arm. “No you didn’t!”
“Yes, I did.”
My eyes watered. “Are you serious?”
“Yes, Teem.”
I looked at him in amazement. “How did you know?”
“What? That you were the best player on your high school squad?”
My eyes shifted. “Rashad. Yes. Where did you get that from?”
He bent down and kissed me. “Good actors do their research.”
“I guess it’s that simple, huh?”
He nodded. A piece of me wanted to tell him that I was in love with him, but I didn’t want to hinder his plans. He made it clear that he loved acting more than he loved the money I offered for his love. Maybe these tennis lessons were to fill the void of his absence.
A
s it all began to come together, I was certainly more proud of myself than I thought. In a little over a week, I will be receiving income from my tenants and I can tell Fatima to keep her money.
After the safety inspector approved the place, I needed to get the city’s approval and the tenants I’d already lined up could move in. My adrenaline rushed a million miles a minute as I played the main character in all these different dramas.
To celebrate, I booked a secluded suite in a Vermont bed & breakfast where I planned to tell Fatima that I quit and offer her my love for free.
Before I picked up the rental car, I stopped by my mother’s apartment. There were messages posted on my bedroom door:
Monique called 9/20. Monique called 9/21
. I frowned. Why didn’t she just call me on my cell phone?
As I packed my clothes, I dialed City Props. When Monique came to the phone, she joked, “How are things, Mr. Landlord?”
“Wonderful. How are you?”
“I’m fine. I was calling because another house fell through and before I give it to the next person in line, I wanted to know if you felt like rehabbing another house.”
I sighed. She continued, “We’re really impressed with how quickly you got everything in motion with your house. And believe it or not, we hate to see our money go to waste. We’d rather give it to someone who’s done this before.”
“What about my income? Will the rent serve as my income?”
“No, we’re hoping to go to settlement before you begin receiving rent. If we were to account for that, you’d be over the limit. So, I was hoping to use your current salary. Is that okay?”
This opportunity was screwing up my plan, but how could I say no to another practically free house. My ego expanded as I imagined eventually owning half of Harlem. Before I could evaluate the effects of my actions, I said, “Oh, that’s not a problem. What do I need to do?”
“First you need to go check the house out. Let me know if you’re really interested and we’ll get the ball rolling.”
“Okay. Where is it?”
“One hundred and twenty-ninth and Fifth.”
“When can I see it?”
“Is today at two okay?”
Actually, I planned to pick up Fatima from work by three. Since she didn’t know anything about the plans, I decided I could push that back.
“That’s fine.”
“Someone will meet you outside the house. Talk to you soon.”
As I stood outside of the condemned house, the reservations that I had when I first started my search reappeared. There’s no way in hell that I have the time to sacrifice fixing this house. Then I remembered why my house seemed to take all of my time. I was determined to have it done by an unreasonable deadline. This one could be on the slow track. One of the brokers for City Props walked up and shook my hand.
The dry-rotted smell that used to make me sick invoked an ambitious rumble in my stomach. We couldn’t walk around much, but from a visual estimate, I could divide the place into five apartments. He continued his sales pitch, but I was already sold. I said, “Look man, I’m on my way out of town, but I want this place. What should I do?”
“Call Monique and let her know.”
When I called Monique to give her the heads up, I also let her know that I wouldn’t be available throughout the weekend. She asked, “So where are you going?”
“Just driving up to Vermont.”
“Sure wish I could go.”
I felt indebted to her as well. It took no scientist to figure out that she gave me the hookup. I said, “One day.”
“What do you mean?”
“One day, you’ll go to Vermont.”
“But, what if I want to go with you?”
I ignored that and proceeded to discuss business. “You’re funny. So, do I need to sign anything before Monday?”
“No, I can push it through with your old application. I’ll probably need you to send your pay stubs in again.”
“Okay, that’s cool.”
“Just call me Monday and we’ll discuss what to do next.”
“Okay, sweetheart.”
She paused. “Don’t make me smile.”
“I aim to please.”
“Okay, I’ll talk to you Monday.”
When I called to tell Fatima I’d be picking her up from work, she asked a million questions. Where are we going? Why are you picking me up? Why are you on your way now?
“I thought you liked surprises.”
“I do, but I…”
“You like to know everything.”
“I’m just curious.”
I chuckled. “Whatever you want to call it. I’ll be outside of your building in fifteen minutes. I’m in a blue Ford Taurus.”
“I…”
“See you few minutes, baby.”
M
y head spun faster than I could organize my desk. Knowing there was no way to accomplish all I needed to do before leaving, I decided to just leave. Monday is another day and I’ll deal with it then.
When I rushed outside, I looked around and Rashad beeped the horn from the middle lane. After dodging traffic, I hopped in the car and kissed him. “What’s this all about?”
“We’re going out of town.”
“I have a tennis lesson in the morning.”
“You’ll have to cancel.”
As we passed 125
th
on the FDR, I asked, “When are we leaving?”
“Now.”
“Rashad, I have to pack.”
“Already did that.”
“What did you pack for me?”
He sighed. “You need to learn to be relaxed and let me take control.”
“I’m just curious.”
“Didn’t I promise to take care of you?”
“How long do you plan to take care of me?”
He chuckled, but didn’t answer. Based on my estimation, it was approximately seven more days. He rubbed my knee. “Take one day at a time, Teem.”
I watched him from the corner of my eye. “Where are we going?”
“Vermont.”
“Vermont? What the hell is in Vermont?”
“Teem, you’ll like it.”
“You could take me up there and leave me stranded.”
“What makes you think I would want to leave you stranded?” I shrugged my shoulders and he massaged my knee. “I kinda like your company.”
“I kinda like you too.”
On the long ride, I kidded, “We could have driven to Alabama.”
“Never satisfied, huh?”
“I am satisfied. I was just saying this is a long ride.”
“Are you afraid to be locked in a small space with me for too long?” He paused. “Or are you afraid to deal with yourself?”
I frowned. “What are you trying to say? I don’t have a problem with myself or you.”
He smiled slyly. “I’m just wondering.”
“Well, don’t.”
I stared out of the passenger side window at the beautiful scenery. As we drove farther north, Fall was a little more obvious. The trees and grass and peacefulness made me miss home. My sudden connection with Alabama startled me. When I had reached New York, I promised I’d never return, but as I admired the greenery I wasn’t so sure that still held true. All of a sudden, I felt the need to pull out my cell phone and call my mother.
“Mama.”
“Fatima?”
“Yeah, Ma.”
“How are you, baby?”
“I’m pretty good. Work is a little hectic, but everything else is good.”
“Have you decided whether you’re coming home for the holidays?”
“I don’t know, yet.”
She went on to tell me all the family gossip. Finally she said, “You know I worry about you when you don’t call.”
“Ma, I talked to you last week.”
“Fatima, I haven’t talked to you in almost a month.”
I sighed. “I’m sorry, Ma. I’ll get better.”
“I know you’re busy; just try to give me a call sometimes.”
“I will.”
“I love you, Fatima.”
“I love you, too.”
As I closed my phone, Rashad reached over and rubbed my leg like he knew what I was thinking. “How often do you visit Alabama?”
“Like once a year.” I paused. “If that.”
“You should visit your family more.”
I didn’t feel the need to respond, but I pondered it. Ten minutes or so later, I nodded.
After a few rest stops and six hours later, we arrived at the Green Mountain Inn on Main Street in Stowe, Vermont. When he went to check in, I sat in the car wondering what would make him select this place. The little country town had completely shut down by nine o’clock. For a girl who likes adventure, this seemed a last resort. Maybe he got it for a reasonable price. At least I didn’t have to worry what he decided to pack for me; no one around here would care. He hopped back into the car and pointed. “We have to go up here to the Chesterfield House.”
“Okay. So, what will we eat tonight?”
“There’s a restaurant up there.”
When we got out of the car, he grabbed the luggage from the back and we headed into the building. There was a nice Victorian feel to the place. I looked around and nodded. “It’s nice.”
He frowned at me as if he never doubted it. He opened the hotel room door and let me walk in first. Classical music played in the huge suite. The fireplace crackled across from the king-size canopy bed. Chocolate-covered strawberries and wine sat on the table opposite the door. When he walked in behind me, he noticed my excitement.
He bent down to kiss me. “You like it?”
“I love it.”
A Jacuzzi tub was beside the bed with all sorts of spa products decorating the ledge. He held me in his arms. “I love to make you happy.”
My heart wanted to say, “I love you.” Instead, I kissed him. As we stood in the middle of the floor, passionately kissing, I never imagined I’d feel so complete with another man. As I admitted my feelings to myself, I pushed away.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I’m just…”
He pulled my head to his chest to let me know that he didn’t need an explanation.