The One That Got Away (12 page)

“I understand,” Fritz replied, placing a gentle hand to her shoulder before waving to the girls, who shouted respectful greetings as they bounced the ball between them. He turned his gaze back to Serena. “You have every right to be unhappy about seeing me right now, dear sis. I'm not here for my health, though. I'm here to support my friend.”

Serena glanced over her shoulder at the girls, who continued playing obliviously. “Let's continue this in my office, please.”

Once she'd welcomed Fritz into the kitchen and locked the back door to avoid any surprise eavesdropping, she walked to the refrigerator. “Okay, what do I have that a black Muslim can eat?”

Fritz waved a hand. “I have no needs.” He slid into a chair at the kitchen table and ran both hands over his freshly shaved head. “Just news you should hear.”

“What's that?” Serena slammed the refrigerator door and turned back toward the table. “Jamie has
two
kids by other women, not just one?”

Fritz bunched his lips together and began polishing his glasses with a handkerchief. “Petty,” he whispered. “Let's resist that urge, sister. Hear me out.”

“Look, Fritz, don't you tell me—”

“He's on his way home, Serena.”

Her shoulders jumped with disbelief. “Please, that whoremonger just left. Jamie's in Italy for another eight weeks.”

“Not so. I spent last night on the phone with him.” Fritz cleared his throat patiently, as if it was an art requiring concentration. “When he told me about his confession to you—a confession I've been on him to share for months, for the record—I told him it was irresponsible to drop such a bomb and leave the country.”

“Oh,” Serena replied, laughing sarcastically, “so I have you to thank for my beloved's return.”

“Serena,” Fritz said, his hand outstretched as if to halt the insults poised on the tip of her tongue. “There is so much Jamie has not told you.”

Serena knew she was wrong but didn't stop the words. “Uh, yeah, no shit, Fritz.”

Fritz bunched his lips again and shut his eyes. “Such language is beneath you, sis, but I guess you've earned the right.” His hands clasped, he met her hard stare. “Your husband is ready to be a real man, a real father, and a real husband,” he said, “because he is finally ready to submit to Allah.”

Serena failed to stifle a chuckle. “You
do
know he tells you what he thinks you want to hear, right?” Fritz was too bright to keep falling for Jamie's half-ass claims of converting to Islam.
Serena had long ago given up on otherworldly help of any type for her husband's indiscretions.

“I know my boy,” Fritz replied, his eyes bright and his gaze steady, “and I know that I heard a sincerity in his voice I have never heard before. Serena, do you realize what it will mean when Jamie gets on that plane headed home tomorrow?”

Serena shook her head, not sure she could believe she was having this conversation. “He'll be fired.” Jamie's league didn't mess around; foreign players' visits home were carefully restricted and managed, and several of Jamie's teammates had been dropped for missing a week's worth of practice, much less the months it would take Jamie to patch up their marriage.

Her eyes transfixed to Fritz's confident stare, Serena found herself fumbling for words. “Fritz, I don't . . . I mean, what would make him change now?”

Finally satisfied with the polish on his glasses, Fritz returned them to his nose and patted the seat across from him. “Come,” he said, clearing his throat. “We have much to discuss, sis, starting with what Jamie told you about his mother's boyfriend. The fights?” He paused and his eye contact faltered for the first time Serena ever remembered. “Jamie wishes that was all that man did to him.”

T
wo weeks after his rendezvous with Serena—two silent weeks without so much as a hiccup from her in response to three messages left on her office phone—Tony took his twin mentees on a field trip to his windy hometown. As they drove toward the Oak Lawn branch of Gino's East pizzeria, he probed them about their recent midterm reports cards, as well as their studies for the upcoming PSAT. For more than two months he'd shared his wisdom with them, but he had yet to break through the last of each kid's protective layer, the false fronts common to most young males.

On the plane Saturday morning they'd mainly engaged in small talk, so as they cruised down Ninety-fifth Street he took a minute to dig a little deeper. “You guys heard from your brothers or sister lately?” The twins were their mother's youngest children; two brothers and a sister in their late twenties were scattered across Ohio.

Ben, who sat next to Tony in the passenger seat, gazed out his own window. “I'll let Glenn answer that one.”

“Mr. Gooden,” Glenn said, piping up from the backseat, “you may as well know. Our ma was a pretty trifling trick for a while; still is, really. Hell, back in the day social workers took everyone from her except us. By the time we came along, she learned how to hoodwink the system.”

Ben turned suddenly in his seat, his right hand balling into a fist. “That's enough, Glenn.”

“What?” Glenn glared back at his brother's daring stance, rising to the challenge. “You got a problem, little brother?”

Collecting himself as Tony cast a stern glance his way, Ben shifted in his seat, facing forward again. “You don't even have to say it, sir.” He looked out the front window, clasped his hands. “I'm not going to disrespect you or your car by setting him straight now.”

From the backseat, Glenn chortled with abandon. “Bring it on, sucker.”

Tony rolled his eyes but kept them on the road. “Glenn, take it from a man with a little experience in this department. If you drew a short straw when God handed out moms, or dads for that matter, that's only the beginning of your story.”

Coming to a stop for a red light, he looked over his shoulder. “It damn sure isn't the end.” He turned back toward the dashboard but searched for the boy's eyes in his rearview mirror. “It hasn't been perfect, fellas, but my mother abandoned my ass when I was an infant, and I've lived a very nice life. I've had dinner with two U.S. presidents and four other heads of state, romanced supermodels and actresses, and helped pass legislation that improved the lives of poor kids in Chicago's worst neighborhoods, all by the age of thirty. So don't waste time hating on your mom; trust me, there's better things to do with your time.”
Damn right,
Tony thought.
Use the time you'll save to hate on women who grab your heart, use you for a night, then pretend you don't exist.

They rode in silence for the next several minutes. Glenn sat still, seemingly struck mute, while Ben sat nodding in wordless agreement with Tony's counseling. For his part, Tony couldn't quite believe the words that had just tumbled from his mouth. Not that they weren't true; as much bitterness as he harbored toward Zora's mother, he had come this far in life by refusing to waste time on it.

No, the surprise was that he'd immediately shared a forbidden secret with these two young cats, dudes he'd known for a matter
of weeks. Dozens of women with intimate knowledge of Tony's genitalia still thought Stephanie was his biological mother; even lifelong friends like Mitchell and Trey had barely known the truth for a year.

By the time they pulled into the lot at Gino's, conversation was back in full swing. After sharing more of his own family history, Tony had coaxed the twins into sharing details of their mother's alcoholism, her convictions for money laundering, the ailing but loving aunt who enrolled them in Rowan, and the specifics of their daily weight-lifting routine, which they'd challenged Tony to take up with them.

“Please, no weight-pressing for this brother,” he replied, laughing as they climbed from his rental car. “The ladies like me long and lean, fellas. Can't mess with success.”

Three inches taller than his mentor, Glenn looked down at Tony as Ben flanked him on the other side. “Long, huh?”

“Okay, young buck, you're out of line now,” Tony replied, chuckling as he elbowed both brothers. As they stepped into the lobby, Tony took a quick survey of the crowd. “Doesn't look like my boys are here yet,” he said when he saw no sign of Trey or O.J.

“Gonna hit the men's room,” Ben said.

“Cool,” Tony replied. “We'll be here.”

“Mr. Gooden,” Glenn whispered, his words sounding like a question.

“Yeah, Glenn?”

“Were you for real in the car before, about your mom?” A skeptical spirit invaded the boy's stare. “I can't picture a silver-spoon brother like you being put up for adoption. You just wanted to shame me for dissin' my ma, didn't you?”

Eyebrows arched, Tony felt his cheeks rise with a smile. “Kid,” he said, “I think I'm insulted. I look like a guidance counselor or a shrink to you? I'm just a brother living life, trying to share any tidbits I've picked up that'll help you and your bro. I'm not here to make you feel good, so when I tell you something, you can take it to the bank.”

“Who is that
handsome
man there?” Though his eyes were still
on Glenn's, Tony knew the wisecrack flying through the air had come from his boy O.J.'s mouth. Pivoting, he reached out and matched his friend's vigorous handshake.

By the time Ben emerged from the bathroom, Trey had trailed into the lobby as well and Tony made introductions all around. Taking their seats, Tony and his friends spent an hour stuffing themselves with Chicago-style pizza and trading wisecracks amongst each other and Tony's young guests. Just when Tony thought he might escape for the night without anyone bringing up the “S” word, Trey turned to the twins.

“Yo, you fellas into any of those video games they got up front?”

“Well, since you asked, sir,” Ben said, cocking his head toward the front of the pizzeria, “they do have a couple of games I'm pretty skilled at, stuff I could whip up on my brother on without breaking a sweat. Didn't want to be rude, but—”

“Nothin' rude about that,” Trey replied, flashing a toothy grin and plunking five one-dollar bills onto the table. “Why don't you two go and knock yourselves out for a few, get away from us old farts for a second.”

“While we're at it,” Glenn said, sliding out from his side of the booth, “I may make a detour, to, uh, lay a little rap on that fine Latina hostess.”

“How about you go play the video game and stay out of trouble,” Tony said, looking up at the twins. “I'm not trying to have to go back to Cincy explaining to your mom why you're stuck here in prison for harassing some girl.”

Chuckling, Glenn rolled his eyes. “Like she'd really care, but whatever,” he said as Ben punched him in the shoulder.

When they were gone, Tony looked at Trey, hoping his pupils communicated the depth of his scorn. “Funny I see you here, but never when you're in my town.” Even though Trey visited Cincinnati every couple of weeks to see Serena's girl Jade, Tony saw more of his so-called friend on these trips home. For one, Jade wasn't exactly interested in seeing Tony now that he was “stalking” Serena. On top of that, Tony had little desire to bother with Trey
anyway; if his so-called friend hadn't told Zora and his father about Serena, he'd at least be suffering her rejection in private.

Clearly sensing his boy's animosity, Trey stared at the half-eaten slice of pizza on his plate. O.J. responded instead. “Be cool, Gooden.” He and Tony had talked several times since Tony's move, but of course Tony had never let on about Serena to him. “Let's just get all the bad news on the table, my friend. In addition to ratting you out to your sis and your pop, Trey has told me about your misadventures with the old flame.”

“Breathe, my friend, breathe deep.” Sensing Tony's anger, O.J. placed a hand on his friend's shoulder before he could bolt from his seat. Eyes laughing, he said, “Don't fight it, man. Just tell ole O.J. the ugly truth, from the ground up.”

“I don't have anything to explain,” Tony said, his words snapping aggressively, his eyes flashing heat. “I'm not the fu—” He paused, remembering his hospital pledge to clean up his language. Within reason. “I'm not the damn traitor, O.J.”

“T, come on.” Seated directly across from him, Trey was close enough for Tony to see the wounded look in his eyes. “I told your pop and Zora about Serena 'cause I was worried about you. I mean, you ain't never tell me, Mitchell, or O.J. a thing about why you really moved to Cincy. I had to find out from Jade.”

Tony slammed a fist against the table. “Who is Jade, Trey?” He glared at his friend as he sat there, head drooping with shame. “What does Jade know about me, really? She's some girl who knew me in passing, a decade ago! You take her word over mine about why I moved away, then pass her slander on to my family?” It took that long for Tony to realize his upper lip was twitching. He bit at it, then looked back at Trey. “You can roll, for all I care.”

After clearing his throat, O.J. sighed. “Gooden, let's forget Trey for a minute, all right?” He leaned toward his friend. “Lower your voice, and start the story from point A. Why'd you really move to Cincinnati?”

The truth dribbled from Tony in coaxed, spastic bits of revelation, until he replayed—at a respectable bird's-eye view—his
recent night with Serena. “That's it,” he said, collapsing against his bench, his expression stone cold and emotionless.

O.J. tented his fingers, searching the tabletop respectfully. “You haven't heard a word from her since you hit that, am I right?”

Tony occupied himself with his menu. “Let's see, maybe I'll get a dessert . . .”

“Okay. Asked and answered,” O.J. replied, grinning and shaking his head. “Now look here. You got a point, I'm not gonna lie to you. Trey was out of line telling your family about this Serena lady. Wasn't his place.” He leaned closer. “Does that make
you
right? Hardly. You're still wrong as two left shoes. You need to lay off that woman. Getting dissed ain't proved that to you yet?”

Trey snorted, looking away from Tony as he spoke. “Nah, there's always hope, O.J. Maybe she lost his number.”

“Trey, kiss my black ass—”

“Uh-uh,” O.J. said, slicing a finger across his neck. “No profanities around these newly ordained ears, please.” Having just completed his church's requirements, O.J. had preached his inaugural sermon the prior weekend. “Truth is, I have no business being out with you heathens on a Saturday night, when I should be home with my wife and babies. But I love y'all, so here I am.”

As the night wore on, O.J. saw to it that Tony wasn't on the hot seat the entire time. The conversation hopped from one arena to another—the happenings with their friend Mitchell, whose pregnant wife Nikki was on bed rest, the politics at WHOT, their former workplace, and the latest political news. Before they called it a night, O.J. pressed the point Trey could never have attempted.

“Uh, Gooden, is there a chance you need to move back here, now that you know you'll never score Ms. Serena for good?”

“You obviously haven't been listening,” Tony replied, finishing off his latest beer. “I love my job, O.J. That was part of why I moved to Cincy, and that's why I'm staying.” Tony stared at his friend with a muddled certainty. In a sense, every word was true. Serena's refusal to return his calls had been neatly offset by weeks of significant achievements at work. With his boss Larry and the
esteemed Arthur Champion at his side, Tony had crisscrossed the country pitching major donors, politicians, newspaper editors, and parents' groups on Rowan Academy's successes and why every city needed a Rowan of its own. The numbers spoke for themselves: not only had his presentations been highly praised and well received, they had already won twice the level of planned funding and political support.

“Okay,” O.J. replied, scooting out of his bench after Trey had slid out of his way. “So all's right with the world, Big Man, is that it? The fact you got hard-core dissed by homegirl? No issues with that, right?”

Tony would soon pay a price for his dismissive answer. “O.J., please. A few months ago I nearly
died.
” He touched a hand to his chest, looking down at his shorter friend. “You saw my battered ass in the hospital, remember? You think I'm gonna come through that and sweat a woman with a boatload of her own issues? I'm out, man.” Without even bothering to acknowledge Trey, he stalked off to find the twins.