Not a Day Goes By (7 page)

14

I COULD TELL something was wrong when Yancey opened the door. She had tears in her eyes and even the sight of me didn’t remove the mournful look on her face.

“What’s the matter?” I asked as I gave her a small kiss on her forehead.

“I got a job offer. It’s the lead in
Chicago,
” Yancey said.

“That’s great news.”

“It’s in Las Vegas.”

“Las Vegas?”

“Yes, and it’s for a month,” Yancey said.

“But it sounds like a great opportunity.” I tried to sound encouraging.

“Basil, I’m not talking about Philly or D.C. Las Vegas is in the middle of nowhere,” she said in a heartsick voice.

“Then don’t take the job. Something will come up here,” I advised. It was during times like this when I didn’t know what to say to my women. There were still some things I didn’t understand. On the one hand I wanted to be supportive, yet I didn’t want her to think I was eager to get rid of her. I gently took her hand and moved her toward the sofa.

“Do you want something to drink?” I asked as we sat down.

“No, I don’t feel like anything.”

“So that’s the cause of the sad face. A great chance to strut your stuff in Vegas,” I said and lifted Yancey’s chin toward me.

“Can you come with me?” Yancey asked in a little girl–like voice.

“Baby, you know I can’t do that. I mean not for the entire month. This is my busy time. I just agreed to go to Chicago in a couple of days for Brison. We’re thinking about opening an office there.”

“I know I’m acting like a baby, but I don’t know if this is the right move,” Yancey said.

“What does your agent think?”

“Who cares what she thinks?”

“You’re paying her to help you make these decisions,” I said.

“I know, and it is the lead.”

“And you’ll be wonderful.”

“And you’ll come and see me at least once a week, right?”

“I’ll do my best,” I answered. “Besides, I can always see who we have on our wish list of potential clients playing in the area. Maybe I can come once a week.”

“That would be wonderful. Let me go call Lois and tell her I’m taking the job. They needed to know right away,” Yancey said with a slight edge of uncertainty in her voice.

“And I’ll go pick up some California rolls and tempura. How does that sound?”

“Good,” Yancey said. We both stood up holding each other’s hand.

“Should I get enough for Windsor?”

“First thing, she probably doesn’t know what a California roll is, and I don’t think she’s here.”

“Oh, here is the check I promised,” I said as I removed the envelope from my suit jacket and handed it to Yancey.

“You made it out to me, right?” Yancey asked, ripping open the envelope.

“No, I made it out to Hale House,” I said.

Yancey looked at me and with a disgusted shake of her head said, “I’ve already given Windsor a check. You need to do another check and make it out to me. I’ll make sure she puts the receipt in your name.”

“No problem. I’ll do it when I come back,” I said. I gave Yancey a hug and a deep kiss and prepared to step into the chill of a New York autumn night.

15

I WAS A little bit uneasy when the driver pulled up in front of the Four Seasons hotel in downtown Chicago. I had met Zurich Robinson briefly after a game in New Jersey. He was an All-Pro quarterback, as well as a stunning-looking man with skin the color of a Hershey bar. We exchanged phone numbers, and though nothing ever happened between us sexually, I was convinced he swung both ways from some of the conversations we had. Today I was hoping I was wrong in thinking Zurich had enjoyed some of our late-night conversations when we talked about what we
weren’t
wearing to bed. Maybe Zurich was hoping for the same thing. Maybe not.

I spotted Zurich as soon as I moved out of the revolving door and onto the marble-floored foyer. I guess he remembered me too because he gave me a huge smile and walked toward me with his hand extended. I nervously returned his smile.

“Basil Henderson. Man, long time no see. How you been?”

“Just great, dude. It’s good seeing you,” I said as I shook his hand and patted him on the back of his broad shoulders in a businesslike manner.

“When Brison told me I was going to be meeting with a John Basil Henderson, I was thinking,
There can’t be but
one John Henderson who played ball.
You were doing the commentator thing for a while, right?”

“Yeah, it was a good gig. Brought me to Chicago quite a few times for Northwestern games. You want to go up to the lobby and find the restaurant? I had my assistant make some reservations for us,” I said.

“Sure, lead the way,” Zurich said. He was dressed in a finely tailored dark gray suit, with a light blue shirt and maroon tie.

We located the restaurant on the main floor of the hotel, and were seated by a pretty sister who showed us to a solarium with plants, lots of light, and a view of Michigan Avenue. I was looking over the menu when Zurich asked when we planned to open our Chicago office.

“No definite date yet, but we’ve got to be in this city,” I said.

“I know. This is a great city. When I retired from football, or shall I say when injuries forced me to call it quits, I knew this was the only place I wanted to live,” Zurich said as he placed a white linen napkin in his lap.

“So how long have you been out of the league?” I asked.

“Almost three years. I spent a couple of years at Kellogg, and then went to work for World Sports Associates. It’s been good, but I know I won’t make partner there.”

“Kellogg? That’s the business school at Northwestern, right?”

“Yes, it is. I always wanted to get my MBA and it really helps when it comes to counseling players on what to do with their money—even though most of them don’t want to hear about saving money until they’ve bought their mama and girlfriends a new car and a house.” Zurich laughed. He had a nice smile, not that I was into checking out a dude’s smile, which revealed perfect, sugar-white teeth.

“I heard that,” I said.

“Not that I have anything against helping out your family. I built a house for my grandmother down in Mississippi, even though she spends most of her time up here with me. She fell in love with Chicago just like me.”

“So how did you sign Bennie Wilson? And if we make an agreement, will he be coming with you?” Bennie Wilson was one of the top college players in the country whom we had tried desperately to sign. He liked us, I thought, but when it came time to sign on the dotted line, Bennie stopped returning my calls.

Zurich laughed. “MamaCee landed Bennie for me.”

“MamaCee?”

“That’s my grandmother.”

“Yeah. How did she do that?”

“She met Bennie at a church convention about two summers ago. MamaCee had been assigned a roommate, and it turned out to be Bennie’s grandmother, who was from Louisiana. MamaCee met Bennie and when she found out he played football, she told him he had to meet me.”

“That’s an amazing story,” I said. “So Bennie’s not one of those Jesus freaks, is he?”

“If you mean, has Bennie dedicated his life to Christ, then the answer is yes. It’s one of the things we have in common besides both of us being raised by wonderful grandmothers,” Zurich said confidently.

I didn’t feel like getting into the church thing in the middle of the day. “So do you do a lot of traveling right now?” I asked.

“Somewhat. I’ve been covering Michigan, southern Illinois, and most of Wisconsin. Most of the schools I can hit by car. You guys know I want to stay in Chicago, right?”

“Yes, we know, but I think you’ll need to come to New York for a while to get a feel for how we do business, and right now we all handle the West Coast. You know, places like Seattle and Los Angeles,” I said. I had asked the travel question to find out what his personal situation was. Had Zurich gotten married or had he picked sides and was living with some dude? I looked at his hands and only noticed a ring like the kind players get for playing on championship teams. I guess the only way I was going to find out was to ask. I took a couple of bites of my New York strip and quizzed, “So, Zurich, are you married or something?”

Zurich finished a bite of his salmon, raised his eyebrows, and said, “I just recently ended a relationship.”

I wanted to know more. “Was it a difficult separation? I know how hunnies can be when a brotha’s had enough.”

“I wasn’t married to this person, and we’re still good friends. Very good friends and let’s just leave it at that,” Zurich said firmly. He picked up his glass of tea, took a long sip, and glanced pensively out the large picture window.

16

YANCEY WAS brushing her hair in rhythm to “All That Jazz” from
Chicago
when the phone in her hotel suite rang. She had just finished a cool shower after eight hours of hard work, and was looking forward to a peaceful night’s sleep. The dry Vegas weather and constant practicing had worn Yancey down.

“Hello.”

“Darling, how is Las Vegas?” It was Ava, with whom Yancey hadn’t spoken in several days. In the last couple of years, it was not unusual for Yancey and her mother to go weeks without a note or phone call. Ava was busy with her cabaret career in Europe and a new husband, a husband who had not only given her a huge diamond ring when he married her, but three stepchildren as well.
Like she knows what being a mother is about,
Yancey thought.

“Hey, Ava, where are you?”

“In Palm Springs. I got here early in the week,” she said.

“How did you know what hotel I was staying at?”

“I spoke with—what’s that child’s name—Wendy or Wynonna? Besides, I could have just asked for the best hotel in Vegas and figured that out. Like mother, like daughter.”

“Windsor. Her name is Windsor,” Yancey said.

“Where did she get a name like that?”

“Something about her mother’s water breaking on the bus coming back from Windsor, Canada.”

“Honey, black women ain’t never gonna run out of names for their children,” Ava joked.

“I kinda like her name.”

“Whatever, darling. What are you doing in that dreadful city, Las Vegas? Isn’t it just the most gaudy city you’ve ever seen?”

Yancey did think certain elements of the city lacked class, like the slot machines at the airport, but she was in no mood to side with Ava. Instead she told Ava about her new starring role and how Lois had said it could lead to work on the West Coast.

“I didn’t know they were doing that show in Vegas. How is the cast, and more importantly, how is your understudy?”

“The show is real popular here. You know, with all the tourists it might run forever, but I’m outta here in a couple of weeks. I’ve only met a few members of the cast. I might go check them out tomorrow night, but right now I’m beat. I’d forgotten how hard this show can be.”

“What about your understudy?” Ava repeated.

“Oh, I did meet her, some really homely girl named Darla. The child ain’t that bright. I can tell if she wasn’t black, she’d be a blonde. Got a nice body and can dance, but Ava, she does that
talk singing,
so I’m not hardly worried about her. They ain’t paying her twenty K a week.” Yancey giggled as she gave herself a $5,000 raise.

“Watch your back. You know white folks don’t mind that talk singing. Some of them don’t know one note don’t make a song. I can’t tell you how many shows I’ve been in where the leading lady would talk through a song and the crowds would love it. You see it all the time when movie and TV stars decide they need to do a musical but fail to realize you have to sing!”

Yancey picked up the portable phone from the nightstand and moved over toward the large picture window facing the Las Vegas strip. The pink and orange sun was setting toward the west and the city looked like a circus midway. The producers had provided Yancey with a sprawling suite with an open dining area and a living area with a melon-color sofa and matching chair. The bedroom included a king-size maple sleigh bed, with a corn-colored velvet chaise lounge.

“When is your opening night?”

“What?” Yancey asked. She had spent a few seconds enjoying the view as Ava went on about all the parties she was going to attend while in Palm Springs.

“When is your opening? I might come out for opening night. When is it? It’s been a while since I’ve been to Vegas,” Ava said.

“They’re giving me a week to get ready, even though I know this role like the back of my hand. And my first performance isn’t really like an opening night.”

“I’ll give you a call in a couple of days and check the flight schedules,” Ava said.

“That will be fine,” Yancey said.
Like you’re really going
to show up,
Yancey thought to herself. “Guess who called me?” she asked.

“Who?”

“Charlesetta.”

“Charlesetta?” Ava repeated in a quizzical tone.

“Yeah, Derrick’s mother.”

“What did she want?”

“Told me to call Derrick. Said it was important,” Yancey said.

There was silence on the line for almost a minute before Ava finally said, “Don’t do it. You got a nice young man who is crazy about you. Don’t go looking for trouble, Yancey, please.”

“What if he’s sick or something? And besides, Basil ain’t hardly worried about Derrick. His cockiness is one of the things I love about him.”

“It ain’t your problem. And if Basil
really
knew how close you and Derrick once were, that cockiness would be out the window.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“You know I’m right. Guess what?”

“What?”

“I made a date,” Ava said. There was a sudden excitement in her voice.

“A date? Did you forget you’re married?” Yancey asked.

“I didn’t forget, and I’m just going to the gym and having coffee afterward. It’s with my overnight express man. One day he showed up with a package and I told him I had just had a dream about him, but I didn’t even know his name.”

“What did he say?”

“He just smiled and said, ‘My name is Hector.’ He is so beautiful. So I told him he looked like he worked out a lot and I was looking for a new trainer. Hector then offered to work out with me until I found someone.”

“What did you have on when you told him that?”

“Matching lavender panties and bra.” Ava giggled.

“Do you think that had something to do with him being so helpful?”

“I hope so,” Ava said.

“You better watch yourself.”

“I will. Take care.” Ava hung up.

Yancey went to the sitting area next to the bathroom and put on one of the fluffy white hotel robes. She picked up the phone, called room service, and ordered some tea and a house salad, without croutons, and low-fat ranch dressing on the side.

She picked up her leather bag from the desk and searched for a piece of chewing gum, when she noticed the slip of paper with Derrick’s number. Yancey gazed at the number for a moment, thinking about Ava’s advice. Finally, she told herself Ava didn’t know shit about men. Especially the men in Yancey’s life.

Yancey’s hand shook as she picked up the phone and dialed the number. She felt a twinge of melancholy when she heard Derrick’s voice on the answering machine, and then she felt a sharp anxiety mixed with fear. What if he were sick? What if he were married with children? When the message ended, Yancey hesitated for a moment, and when she started to leave a message, it seemed as though her voice had vanished. She couldn’t speak. So she hung up. After a moment, she muttered to herself, “What am I doing?” Yancey was grateful she still had a voice.