Just Too Good to Be True (18 page)

CHAPTER
19

Brady Takes on Bama

I
walked into Coach Hale’s office and noticed a strained look on his face. I knew the coaches were worried about the upcoming game against the University of Alabama, but Coach Hale never let the players see his concern. But when he asked me to come by his office after practice, there was something different in his voice. At first I thought this might be about Chloe, but Lowell assured me he’d taken care of that.

“Coach, you said you needed to see me,” I said as I walked into the massive office overlooking the end zone of the practice field.

“Come in, Brady, have a seat,” Coach Hale replied as he took off his baseball hat, revealing the receding hairline that the players often teased him about.

“Thanks, Coach,” I said. I took a seat in one of the office’s green leather chairs with a gold jaguar head emblazoned on the back.

“Great practice today, Brady,” Coach Hale said. “I can’t tell you what it means to see a senior everybody’s saying might be the best player in the country going full out in practice. It sets such a good example for the younger players. And those early-morning workouts you mandated are really helping, with our players still being fresh in the fourth quarter.”

“Thank you, Coach. I’m just doing what I do,” I said, thinking that the coach hadn’t called a private meeting to compliment me on something that I did all the time.

“So how’s your mother?”

“She’s fine. She’ll be in Tuscaloosa this weekend,” I replied.

“Good. Good. We need all the fans we can get in that place.”

“My mom never misses any of my games,” I said proudly.

“I know, Brady. You’re so lucky to come from good stock. I knew that when I recruited you. Good stock. I wish all of my players were like you, but I understand they can’t be. Not everyone’s as fortunate as you, Bledsoe. I think the NCAA should relax the rules and pay the young athletes who need money so they won’t be forced to do things that are against the rules, like take money from boosters and agents.”

“Yeah, Coach, I’m blessed,” I said.

“How are you handling the agents?”

“I’m not, Coach, but my mom is. She’ll know what to do.”

“Great, Bledsoe. I did tell one agent, Basil Henderson from XJI, that I would give him his props when it came to you. He’s a great agent, and he’s done right by some of my players who signed with him.”

“My mom has already talked to him,” I said.

“Good to hear. Henderson follows the rules.”

After a few nervous moments, I asked Coach if that was all he needed. The coach stared at me silently, then asked if I would shoot straight with him about one of my teammates.

“Sure, Coach.”

“How are things at home?”

I was puzzled. He had already asked about my mother. What home was he talking about?

“Home? You mean in Atlanta?”

“No, I’m sorry, Brady. I mean here on campus. You and Delmar getting along okay?”

“No doubt—Delmar is my boi. We get along fine. Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know any other way to put it, but I have been hearing some rumors that are bothering me. I know it might just be gossip, but we are not talking about a sorority here, we’re talking about a football team. Men. You understand what I’m saying, Bledsoe?”

“I don’t think so, Coach. What are you talking about?”

“Damn, I’m just going to flat out ask you. Is Delmar dealing drugs?”

“What? No, Coach. Delmar wouldn’t do anything like that. Who told you that?” I asked.

“We don’t have proof positive, but several of the coaches and even a couple of the trainers have been noticing that he has changed his wardrobe, started wearing better clothes. Then we heard from a couple other guys that he has been picking up the tab at victory celebrations for his teammates, paying for strippers and stuff.”

I had noticed the extra money Delmar seemed to have, but I figured it was coming from his summer job. But what kind of job did he have in the summer? He didn’t say, but I knew he’d gone to several smaller cities in Georgia. I couldn’t imagine Delmar doing anything illegal to earn money.

“Coach, I don’t believe Delmar would do something like that, and I haven’t seen any evidence in our apartment.”

The coach asked me if we had a lot of visitors and also what had happened to Delmar’s baby’s mother. He went on to tell me that in previous years they had received calls all the time from his ex-girlfriend, complaining that Delmar wasn’t paying his child support, but that the calls had recently stopped.

“Is that girl still alive? You don’t think he’s gotten rid of her, do you?” Coach Hale asked.

“Come on now, Coach. This is Delmar you’re talking about. He wouldn’t harm a flea. He’s all talk,” I said. “Besides, he’s always on the phone with her trying to get her to bring his son to games, so I know she’s still around.”

“Do you think he’s taking money from an agent?”

“I doubt that. We’re not talking to any agents yet,” I said, knowing that was totally true.

“Yeah, but you’re a straight shooter, Brady,” Coach Hale said. “They know better than to offer you any money, but some of these agents have no morals, like the guy your mother had to report to the NCAA.”

“Yeah, Nico Benson. But I’m just trying to play by the rules, Coach,” I said.

“You guys represent the University and should be paid. Think about all that money we get from the conference and bowl games. It’s just not fair,” Coach Hale said.

“Maybe it will change some day. I know all my teammates aren’t as blessed as me. Do you want me ask Delmar where all the money is coming from?”

“No, don’t do that. Hopefully, you’re right and Delmar wouldn’t be foolish enough to jeopardize his career. Both of you boys will be playing on Sunday. Just keep your eyes open, son.”

“I will, Coach,” I said as an image of Delmar drinking that expensive Champagne entered my mind. As I walked out of the office, I wondered if my best friend would risk everything for some quick cash.

CHAPTER
20

Barrett Gets Something to Cheer About

B
arrett was getting ready to walk into the complex for cheer practice, and felt her cell phone vibrate. She looked at the name on the tiny screen and decided to take the call. Some of the female squad members walked by, engaged in conversation and acting like they didn’t see her. Before answering, Barrett muttered, “Bitches,” and turned around, facing the parking lot so she wouldn’t have to see any of them until she joined them for their two-mile run before practice.

“Hey,” Barrett said.

“Are you sitting down?” the familiar male voice said.

“Actually, I’m standing up,” Barrett said.

“I’ve got some startling news which might help our cause, but you’ve got to act on this right away. First of all, you’re not going to believe this. Maybe I should catch a flight down and tell you in person. I would love to see your face when I tell you.”

“Don’t do that to me. Tell me,” Barrett demanded.

“Okay. Well, it seems like Mother Bledsoe was a little slut puppy back in the day. Got herself knocked up with your boy while entertaining the football troops. She doesn’t have a clue who her baby’s daddy is,” he said, laughing.

“What? Brady’s father is dead,” Barrett said.

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that.”

“How did you find out?”

“From the horse’s mouth. You see, I’m thorough, baby, and I always cover all the bases, and I had a backup plan just in case your feminine power couldn’t close the deal. You know I hire some good-looking guys who are just big-time freaks in case I’m trying to sign some faggot mofo. You’d be surprised how many of them there are in the league,” he said.

“I’m sure Brady isn’t gay, so what are you talking about?” Barrett asked.

“I’ll explain that later, but this is what happened. It seems like Brady’s mother had a ‘come to Jesus’ moment and shared her deep, dark secret with her best friend, that faggot professor who’s Brady’s godfather.”

“So what do you want me to do?”

“You have to tell him.”

“How can I do that without connecting you to this?”

“If you use the right acting skills, which means your I-hate-to-do-this-but-I’m-really-concerned act, I think it will send him over the edge.”

“Do you have any more details, just in case he doesn’t believe me?”

“Sure. Ask him if he ever met his grandparents.”

“I’ve never heard him mention grandparents.”

“Right, because his mother never told him about them and it seems the good preacher and his wife disowned their daughter the tramp.”

“This is too wild. I guess that bitch of a mother is going to be sorry she turned her nose up at me,” Barrett said as she noticed Frank, one of the male cheerleaders, running toward the door. Barrett knew she was at least ten minutes late for practice, since Frank was always late—so late that the squad members took bets on when he would show.

“I think you should tell him this evening.”

“I didn’t have plans to see him. I need to meet with this chick who’s writing some comp papers for me,” Barrett said.

“Change it. We need to get moving on this.”

“Okay! Gotta run. I’ll call you later,” Barrett said as she clicked off her phone and raced into practice.

CHAPTER
21

Carmyn’s Beloved

W
ith thoughts whipping through my mind like autumn leaves in a breeze, I considered how Lowell was pressuring me to tell Brady. I didn’t know if I agreed with him, but what if I did tell Brady? Would he understand why I had done what I did? How angry would he be over the missed chance at having a relationship with his father? Would he understand when I told him that I wasn’t really sure who his father was and that I didn’t even know if he was alive?

I shook my head, trying to discard those thoughts. But then my mind filled with new images—of Brady when he was five years old, starting school, wanting a “daddy” and a puppy badly. I remembered the look on his face when he watched his friends’ fathers pick up their sons from football practice. How my heart had ached. But nothing was as bad as the time he’d come home crying after his first loss in a Pee Wee football game.

“Mommy,” he cried. “I’m mad at God.”

“Why would you say that, Brady?” I asked, concerned.

“Because I keep praying and praying and He won’t send me another daddy. I don’t know why. He took away my first daddy and He should give me a new one.”

Tears had filled my eyes then, just as they did now as I remembered. All I was able to say was “God knows best.”

I eased the car
to the edge of the curb, glanced at the modest home, and then turned off the car’s engine. As I walked toward the door, I pasted a smile on my face. I hadn’t seen Shelby since the day I brushed her off, and I was sure she’d be happy to see a friendly face. I knew this wasn’t an easy time for her. I knew this for sure, since it hadn’t been easy for me.

“Hi, Ms. Carmyn,” Shelby said when she opened the door. The tone of her voice told me that she was surprised to see me.

I hugged her, feeling the slight bulge of her three-month pregnancy. “You look good,” I said, glancing at her. “How are you feeling?”

She shrugged as she closed the door, and then I followed her into the kitchen. “I’m okay. Do you want something to drink?”

“No, sweetheart, I’m fine.” I settled onto one of the bar stools at the counter. “So, how’s everything?”

Again she gave me the standard teenage shrug. This girl was still a baby herself.

“Are you feeling okay?”

“I guess.”

“Well, I wanted to stop by and see you and find out if there was anything I could do. I’m still willing to do your hair whenever you want.”

She shook her head. “I won’t be able to do that. Next week, I’m going away.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Going away? You don’t need to go anywhere. You need to stay here with your mom and brothers. Family is what you need now.”

“My mom doesn’t want me here, she’s making me go. I’m going to Chicago to stay with my aunt”—she lowered her eyes—“until the baby is born.”

“Oh,” I said, and waited for her to continue.

She took a deep breath. “Mama says it’ll be better this way because my aunt works for Social Services and she’ll be able to find the baby a good home—”

“Wait a minute.” I held up my hand. “Find the baby a good home?”

She nodded but still didn’t look at me. “I’m giving my baby away.”

I wondered if she noticed the way her hand moved to her belly when she said those words. She was already protecting her baby.

I stood, walked over to her, and held her in my arms for a moment. “Shelby, sweetheart. Giving away your baby…is that what you want?”

She nodded but didn’t look like she meant it. “It’ll be better for me…and the baby,” she said, as if she had rehearsed the words.

“Come here,” I said, taking her hand and leading her to the kitchen table. We sat next to each other, and when I looked at her and saw the tears in her eyes, my heart broke.

“Shelby, you don’t have to do that.”

“I do,” she said, tears now crawling down her cheek. “It’ll be better, because I’m only a girl and I can’t take care of a baby. Besides, Torrian already has another girlfriend.”

I took a breath. I knew it would be tough, but if I could do it, Shelby could too.

Shelby continued. “My mom said that I have to do it this way because she can’t feed another mouth and she said I can still go to college…and…” She stopped as if she could find no other reason. “I have to do this.”

Memories flooded back to me as I recalled hearing all the same things, except my parents weren’t worried about another mouth to feed—they had the means, they just didn’t want the shame.

“You don’t have to give up your baby, Shelby. You can still go to college.”

She waited a moment, digesting what I’d said, as if she needed time to believe me.

“I don’t want to give up my baby,” she whispered as if she weren’t supposed to say the words aloud. “But my mother is so mad at me. Sometimes I think she hates me.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” I said, squeezing her hand. “Your mother doesn’t hate you. She may be disappointed, but she loves you.”

“That’s what she said, but she told me that I have to give my baby away. She said I have to give my baby away, or else…” She stopped.

I raised my eyebrows. It wasn’t like me to come into someone else’s home and tell their children what to do, but I’d walked in Shelby’s shoes.

“Listen to me, Shelby. What happens with this baby has to be your choice. Because you’re the only one who has to live with it. And you don’t want to grow up with regrets. You need to make the decision yourself.”

“Ms. Carmyn, I want to keep my baby,” she said, her voice stronger this time. “I’m scared, though. I do want to go to college and I don’t want to ruin my life.”

“You can’t let one night ruin your life. Take that from someone who knows.”

“You really think so?” She looked at me, her eyes pleading for reassurance.

“I know that you can take care of yourself and the baby.”

“But how do you know? My own mother doesn’t believe I can make it on my own if I keep the baby.”

How could I explain all this to her? There was no way I could tell her my secrets. Not when my own son didn’t know.

“I know because I know you can do all things through God. And God created your baby. So if you want to keep your baby.” I paused and smiled. “God will give you everything you need to take care of her once she breathes her first breath.”

It was such a simple answer, but it seemed my words were ones Shelby needed to hear.

Still, she said, “But how will I keep my baby and go to school? I’d have to get an apartment and job. How will I be able to do all of that with a baby?” She looked as if all those thoughts overwhelmed her.

Suddenly, Brady’s empty bedroom popped into my head and I found myself saying a quick prayer, hoping I was doing the right thing. “Shelby, if you want to keep your baby, you can stay with me. I will see what I can do to help you find a job. Maybe you can work at the shop.”

Her eyes widened. “I could live with you? Really?”

“Yes, sweetheart.”

She gave me a grateful smile. “I thought you’d be disappointed in me, just like my mother.”

I wanted to tell her that there was no way I could pass judgment. But instead I said, “This may not be what I wanted for you, but this is where we are. So we’ll just deal with it.” I leaned over and hugged her. “You still have some time to think about this, but I want you to know that you have choices.”

She nodded.

“And if you want to keep your baby, I will help you do that, okay? Even if it means having to talk with your mother.”

She nodded again.

I stood, grabbed my purse, and headed to the door.

“I’ll give you a call in a couple of days, but if you need me before then, you know where to find me, okay?”

“Thank you, Ms. Carmyn. I hope Brady knows how lucky he is to have a mother like you.”

After I left Shelby,
I felt a sudden urge to read something I had written over twenty years ago. Later, I found myself at the top of my home, nestled in a seldom-used room that reminded me of the inside of a jewel box. Brady had only been in the room once since we bought the house.

Natural light flooded into the attic through a bay window. I located a small, smooth wooden box that I had hidden behind a water tank and pulled it out. Inside were almost a hundred letters that were like photographs of my youth in an old scrapbook. Most of the letters were from Woodson, but there were a few from girlfriends, and one letter at the bottom of the box that no eyes had seen but mine. I recognized my handwriting and the words
My Beloved
on a dingy white legal-sized envelope.

I wondered if the words I’d written two decades earlier could be a comfort to Shelby now, and I was surprised by the wave of emotion that overcame me as I opened the envelope and began reading the letter.

October 17,1987

My Beloved Child,

If you’re reading this letter, I guess you’ve finally turned eighteen. Happy Birthday, baby!

The first thing I want to say may sound cliché since you’re adopted, but I reallly did give you up so that you could have a better life. Even though it hurts me to say it, right now I’m just not capable of being the mother you need to thrive in this world. The best way I can love you is to give you to two wonderful people who will raise you as their own.

Please know that I will always love you.

Now that you’re old enough, it’s time for you to learn a little bit about your birth family. The Johnsons are a strong, proud family. Your grandfather hails from Waco, Texas. His parents were educators, and your grandfather followed their lead and is the dean of an historically black college where he is loved and respected. He is also a minister, a true man of God. People say his sermons can raise the dead. He calls me his princess, and until recently I felt that way.

Your grandmother comes from a long line of Texas beauties. She, as her mother before her, has devoted her life to helping others. Since ninth grade I’ve spent at least one month each summer helping underprivileged people right alongside my mother.

My darling child, I wish I were older, wiser, and up to the task of being your mother.

I want all your dreams to come true, baby. I dreamed of getting married one day and having my father, your grandfather, perform the wedding ceremony.

Maybe someday we’ll meet and I can tell you all the things that escape me now. I’m fighting back tears with each sentence I write. I hope you can forgive me for giving you up for adoption, baby. One day, I hope, I’ll get to hug and hold you.

My faith right now is fragile, but I hope you’ll welcome God into your life and never let him go.

There’s a scene at the end of the The Color Purple, one of my favorite movies. I won’t give it away, but I cry every time I see it. It’s a scene about hope that reminds me that family ties can never be broken. Maybe one day soon we’ll get to mend ours.

With all the love in the world,

Your birth mother,

Niecey

I felt a pain in my heart, and I began crying tears of guilt over what might have been and the joy I would have missed.