Just Too Good to Be True (12 page)

The Smokey Bones restaurant was filled with the Jaguar faithful, celebrating the team’s win, so the beer and on-the-rocks drinks were flowing. The space was large, with a ceiling that seemed to soar off into the sky. The smell of beef being grilled drifted throughout.

“Oh, it’s fine. I guess I’m just not that hungry,” I said after I realized that my picking was bothering Lowell.

“What’s on your mind?”

“Brady’s little friend. Barrett. What do you know about her?”

“Just what Brady told me. I think he’s smitten, to say the least. Talks about how beautiful she is and how she makes him feel special. I think she’s good for him,” Lowell said.

“Why?” I demanded.

“Come on now, Carmyn. Don’t tell me you didn’t think this wasn’t bound to happen. Brady is a good-looking young man. He has been the catch of the campus since he got up here. It seems somebody has finally caught him,” Lowell said as he took a swig of his beer. There was a trace of judgment in his voice.

“Do you think she’s a virgin?”

“I don’t know. That’s not my concern. Listen, you’ve raised your son right and he’s not going to do something against his will. I think it’s amazing that he’s been able to hold out for this long.”

“What do you mean by that? Brady has been taught the difference between right and wrong. I started to pull him out of sports when I saw some of the boys who he was getting involved with. Mothers protect their daughters when it comes to sex, but they don’t seem to care about their sons,” I said.

“I don’t know how you can make a blanket statement like that.”

“Now, come on, Lowell, you know I’m speaking the truth.”

“Just let Brady grow up. I think it’s great that he has a girlfriend. It’ll be better than his meeting some old gold digger once he reaches the pros. I heard those women created the ‘take no prisoners’ mantra.”

“Who said she was his girlfriend?”

“Carmyn, don’t be so naive! If she wasn’t, you wouldn’t be sitting here with me. Looks like your baby boy got another woman in his life,” Lowell said with a sly smile.

“You’re getting a big kick out of this, aren’t you?”

“Now, Carmyn, you know I love you, but I hope this thing with Brady will allow you to get out and meet someone before it’s too late.”

“I’m not looking for anyone. This is a critical time in Brady’s career. I need to make sure he gets the right agent who will look out for his future. Some fast-tailed girl could ruin it for him with babies. Or he could end up with some arrogant SOB agent, like that agent Nico Benson. I am not going to let that happen.”

“I think you’re overreacting,” Lowell said.

“Let’s talk about something else. Brady will soon grow tired of that girl. You wait and see,” I said. “There’s something about her that just ain’t right.”

Sometimes I felt Lowell didn’t quite understand the depth of my relationship with my son or how hard it was to raise a black man in this day and age. Since Lowell had been outed, almost a decade ago, and given up his political dreams, it seemed that all he had to worry about were his lesson plans and where he was going to vacation for the summer. Ever since his father died and left him very comfortable, little else seemed to concern him.

“Good, let’s talk about me. Ask me something,” Lowell said.

“Do you miss Atlanta?”

“Sometimes, but there’s something to be said about living in a city where you can leave your doors unlocked.”

“How are classes?”

“Going great. Another group of smart students. There’s one who’s trying to get my attention out of the classroom, but I guess he doesn’t know the rule.”

“What rule?” I asked as I looked toward the door of the restaurant, hoping that I would see Brady walk in. Although I was enjoying my time with Lowell, I felt lonely. Brady had never chosen to dine after a game with someone other than me.

“Now, Carmyn. You know what I always say—never shit where you eat, which translated means, don’t date students.”

“What if he is
the one
?”

“The
one
has to have a job, and I don’t mean work-study. Feel me?”

“I hear you,” I said.

“Damn, these ribs seem to get better every time we come here,” Lowell said as he picked the last rib off his plate.

“Lowell, do you think Brady has a chance of winning the Heisman?” I asked.

“If he keeps playing like he did today, we’ll be planning a trip for our shopping spree in New York.”

“What about that McFadden kid at Arkansas and the quarterback at the University of Florida, Chris Leake?” I thought about how Brady had strongly considered the Florida Gators when he came out of high school but I convinced him Gainesville was just too far for me to be able to make all his games.

“I don’t think Brady has anything to worry about if he just keeps running the ball,” Lowell added.

The waiter approached our table and said, “Can I interest you two in some dessert?”

“Oh, yes. I have to get some of that key lime pie,” I said.

“None for me. Just some coffee with extra cream,” Lowell responded.

After the waiter left, Lowell placed his hand on top of mine and said, “Look, sweetheart, I know you’re worried about your baby, but like I said, you raised him right and he’ll be just fine. Don’t you want him to be happy?”

“What kind of question is that? Of course I want him to be happy. But I know how women can be. Brady is not that experienced when it comes to these heifers,” I said. My cell phone signaled a new text message. I looked at it and saw that it was from Sylvester, asking when he could see me. I tried to conceal my smile as I sent a message back—
Maybe 2nite.
It didn’t make sense to hang around Scarlet Springs, since Brady was busy. I was taking my behind back to Atlanta.

“I could ask whose fault is that, but I won’t,” Lowell said.

“I could say thank you, but I won’t.” I smiled tightly, grabbed by pocketbook and got up from the table, and walked toward the exit.

CHAPTER
4

Brady Gets a Penalty Flag

T
he week after my first game flew by quicker than one of Delmar’s relationships with one of his stripper girlfriends. I won Southeastern Conference Offensive Player of the Week and several agents had somehow gotten my cell phone number, so now I had to deal not only with reporters but agents and runners as well. Runners were young dudes agents hired to befriend big-name players. So that means no new friends for me this year. Most of the agents backed off when I told them to contact my mother because I knew it was against NCAA rules for me to talk to agents about future business, although players could converse with them. Parents could talk, and I knew my mom would know how to handle them. Taking money from an agent at that point would get not only me in trouble but the entire team as well. The NCAA had made some teams, like Michigan’s 1990s National Championship basketball squad, forfeit their championship because of a single player who broke the rules. That’s why I was always on Delmar to follow the rules.

It was an exciting time. There were also a lot of scouts from professional teams showing up on campus, talking to players and coaches. We could talk to scouts, and it was a good thing when they showed up. One of my coaches told me the director of scouts from the Houston Texans had called about me, asking for game film. Houston most likely would have the first draft pick again.

Things were changing swiftly for me on many levels. I no longer spent my evenings doing my usual football routine of watching film over and over, downing fast food, and playing NCAA 2006 electronic football with Delmar. I still spent an hour after practice doing video conference interviews with sportswriters from all across the country inquiring about my chances for the Heisman, but all I could think about was Barrett.

Chloe sent me text messages a couple of times, but I didn’t respond. I knew that was rude, but how could I tell her I couldn’t pose for her anymore. Still no calls from Naomi, which was cool as long as she didn’t show up on my doorstep with a baby that was mine.

Every moment that wasn’t spent in class, practice, or interviews was spent with Barrett. And that was all good.

We won our second
game 31–24 against the South Carolina Gamecocks, and I rushed for over 211 yards and threw three passes out of the Wildhog formation. After the game, Lowell took my mother and me to dinner, and that made her very happy. She kept saying how this felt like old times. My mother didn’t know it, but I had asked Barrett to join us, and Barrett had suggested that I spend the time with my mother and Lowell alone. I thought that was nice of her.

When I got home, I removed my jacket and placed my keys on the counter separating the small kitchen from the equally small dining room. Delmar walked out of his bedroom with nothing on but a towel. He was carrying a half-empty champagne bottle.

“Whatsup, son?” Delmar asked.

“Nothing much,” I said. “What’s up with you?”

“Just chillin’. Man, we played some ball today. All of these agents blowin’ up my cell. Any calling you?”

“A few. I just tell them to talk to my mother. I’m going to let her narrow it down to the final two.”

“Who’s been calling?”

“The big ones, like XJI, the Poston Brothers, and Leigh Steinberg. I think it’s going to be the Poston Brothers or XJI. My mother was really impressed with their marketing kits and wants me to sign with a black agent,” I said.

“Are they willing to slip you some money under the table until you sign the big contract?”

“You know I ain’t going for that. Remember that dude last year? If Coach and the school found out I was taking money, you know they’d kick me off the team,” I said as I pulled a chair from the table and took a seat. I picked up the remote and pointed it toward the television and pressed the power button.

“Everybody does it,” Delmar said.

“Does what?”

“Takes money from agents,” Delmar said.

“I won’t, and you better not do it either,” I said.

“Would you turn me in?”

“I don’t know, so don’t put me in that position, D,” I said.

“You want some of this?” Delmar asked as he held the bottle at eye level.

“You trying to send me straight to hell, ain’t you, son? You know I don’t drink.”

“Yeah, I know you say you don’t drink, but I remember our freshman year when you drank some beer with us, so I was just checking.” Delmar laughed. “You know this is the good shit. Dom goes for two fifty a bottle.”

“Dude, where you getting that kind of money from?” I asked. Delmar was wearing a new pair of jeans almost every week and had bought dinner almost every time we had gone out since we had returned to campus this year. It was only last semester, after Delmar had spent all his Pell grant and housing money, that he was hitting me up for ten dollars here and five dollars there.

The monthly housing checks were more than enough for me, but Delmar was usually broke after a week. The main reason wasn’t that he was being frivolous with his money, but that he had to send half of the check to his baby’s mom for child support. Now, all of a sudden, he was spending money like a lottery winner.

“Who said I bought it? I got a little shawty in my shower right now whose only wish is to make me feel good. This makes me feel good. Bitch got peanut-butter legs.”

“What? What in the hell are peanut-butter legs?” I asked.

“Legs spread easy as peanut butter.” Delmar laughed.

“Anybody I know? Should I bounce?” I asked.

“Suit yourself. But I can take her through the side door. I hope I remember the broad’s name before she comes out of the shower.” Delmar smiled.

“When did you meet this girl?”

“After the game. Some of us went to the strip club. That punk-ass Koi Minter was trying to push up on her, but I spit my game and cold-grilled Koi, who was left standing there holding his shit,” Delmar said, laughing.

“Just like that?”

“You know how it goes for me. Just that easy…just that quick,” Delmar said as he snapped his fingers.

Delmar walked back into
his room and I called Barrett. She seemed really excited to hear my voice.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Getting ready to have dinner with my parents,” Barrett said.

“Where are you?”

“In Atlanta,” she said.

“I didn’t know you were going to Atlanta,” I said.

“I left after the game. Since I didn’t have my man around, I decided to drive to Atlanta,” Barrett said.

I had a huge smile on my face. She had called me “her man.”

“When will you be back?”

“On Monday. Hey, babe, I got to go. My parents are calling me.”

“Have fun,” I said.

“Oh, trust me, I will,” Barrett said.

A private call showed
up on my phone after I finished talking with Barrett and I was not going to answer it. Then I remembered my mom’s private line at the spa that she sometimes called me from, so I answered.

“Mom?”

“Brady?”

“Yeah,” I said. The voice did not belong to my mother.

“Why haven’t you returned my calls or texts? You said you would get back to me the other night and you didn’t. What’s going on, Brady?”

It was Chloe.

“I’m sorry I’ve been real busy with school and practice. I’ve had lots of interviews,” I said. The truth was that I’d been avoiding Chloe.

“I figured as much. What are you doing now?”

I looked at my watch and lied, “I have to study.”

“On a Saturday night? Come on, Brady, I’m not stupid. I need to see you,” Chloe said.

“I don’t think I can do that.”

“Why not?”

“I just can’t. Chloe, we’re going to have to stop,” I said, trying to make my voice firm.

“Why?” Chloe demanded.

I didn’t answer right away.

“Brady, are you there?”

“Yes, I’m here.”

“Tell me why.”

“I have a girlfriend, and I don’t think she’ll like what we got going on,” I said. It was the first time, I realized, that I was ashamed of what I’d been doing with Chloe no matter how much pleasure it brought the two of us.

“You think because you have some little girlfriend you can just drop me? I don’t think so, Brady Bledsoe,” Chloe said with bitterness.

“Sorry, but that’s the way it’s going to be.”

“We’ll see about that. Let’s see what happens to your Heisman chances when I release some of these pictures to the press. Maybe ESPN or
Sports Illustrated
might like to see them as well.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“Take it any way you want, but the Internet will be hot very soon. Let’s see what the Heisman voters think of you then.”

And then the line went dead.