The One That Got Away (13 page)

H
olding the foil condom wrapper between a thumb and forefinger, Serena took a deep breath as she swung Dawn's bedroom door closed behind her. As she hovered wordlessly over her daughter's bed, where Dawn lay reading a copy of
Vibe
magazine, Serena felt her soul pitch and rattle with indecision.

As the door clicked shut, Dawn raised her eyes, the lift of her eyebrows betraying her annoyance. “Yeah, Mom?”

Keeping the hand holding the condom behind her back, Serena cleared her throat. She hadn't felt this shy since the first time she slow-danced with a boy, nearly twenty years ago. It wasn't like she and Dawn hadn't had done the birds and the bees thing: she'd told her daughter how a sperm becomes a baby nearly three years earlier. Between Serena's counseling and a traditional sex ed class at school, Serena had known for years that her daughter had the owner's manual to her body. As she stood fingering the rubber, though, Serena realized she'd never guided her child about when to put that knowledge to use. God, she prayed she wasn't too late.

Distracted from a lazy Sunday's reading, Dawn didn't seem to appreciate Serena's deep contemplation. “Uh, Mom? Can I help you?”

Too shook up to choose the right words, Serena stepped forward and plopped the condom onto her daughter's lap.

Dawn's eyes ticked down toward her lap; then she raised her chin and stared into her mother's eyes. “You and Poppa Jamie still using these?” she said, a daring tone matching the arching of her back. “No wonder I only have one sister.”

“You know good and well where I found this,” Serena replied, leaning over her daughter and fighting to keep her voice down. She pointed toward her daughter's lap, as if she needed to remind Dawn of the evidence at hand.

Dawn blinked as if confused. “What were you doing in my purse anyway?”

“I locked my keys in the car when I got home,” Serena said, “and I remembered I made you a copy of the keys when we got your driver's permit.” She put her hands against her hips. “Not that I have to explain it to you. Talk to me, Dawn, quickly.”

Serena knew her daughter's rebellious nature was at work as Dawn shut her eyes, and she appreciated her child's attempt to be respectful. To show it, she took a seat on the bed as Dawn tried to form a response.

“Glenn bought them for me,” she said, her voice just above a whisper, eyes still closed.

In the face of her daughter's serenity, Serena felt her spirits cool. “Glenn, hmm? Is this the boy you've been on the phone with so much since you started at Rowan? The football star?” Just saying the phrase “football star” pissed Serena off. As cute as Dawn was, she knew her child would quickly attract the interest of Rowan's few jocks and other members of the in crowd. She also knew from her own youth that such attention usually led to nothing but an early bun in the oven, an unwelcome addiction, or just plain hurt feelings.

Eyes still closed, Dawn pressed a hand to her own neck. “He's more than just a jock, Mom.”

Serena frowned. “Of course. I'm sure he'll end world hunger some day.” She knew her cynicism was a little stubborn; when she'd first coaxed the name of Dawn's new boyfriend from her,
she quickly screened him via a confidential call to Audrey, Rowan's principal. According to her, this Glenn had a roughneck style and wasn't exactly a 4.0 student but also had no prison record and was on track to attend college with or without a football scholarship. Of course from her perspective as Dawn's mother, that meant nothing unless the boy was also impotent and infertile.

“I gave you an honest answer. I got it from Glenn, okay?” Dawn opened her eyes, which were weighted with the sobriety of the embarrassed. “We've been talking about getting together, Mom. We haven't done nothing yet, though. I swear.”

“Baby,” Dawn said, scooting closer to her child and taking her hand, “why are you two already talking about sex? You haven't been at Rowan a full two months. You can't possibly know this Glenn well enough to give him all you have to offer, not this soon.”

“Mom, I didn't say
when
we'd do anything,” Dawn replied, shaking her head at her mother's apparently low IQ. “Besides, there's girls at Rowan and my old school who sleep with boys after a few hours, forget a few weeks.”

Serena shook her inhibitions suddenly, rearing back and letting loose with a hearty laugh. “Oh, really? Well, bless my virgin ears.” As Dawn stared at her with arms crossed, Serena rubbed her daughter's shoulder. “You think you're telling me something I don't know, child? Baby, not only do I work in a school system, hearing all the scary anecdotes about you and your classmates, I've lived this thang.” She slowed her words, let the laughter fade from her tone. “Dawn, I'm not saying you should wait until marriage. I'm not even saying you should only sleep with one or two men before marriage, necessarily. But I sure don't want you to fall into the same holes that captured me.”

Dawn shook her head slowly. “You turned out okay, Mom.”

“Really, now?” Serena tapped her arm playfully. “Have you forgotten that your grandparents had to raise you the first five years of life? Or maybe you didn't notice when your stepfather packed his stuff and rolled out last month?” Though Jamie had
returned from Italy, just as Fritz promised, he'd immediately moved in with Fritz, saying he needed to earn his way back into Serena's good graces before returning home. He got no fight from her.

“Life's rough, Mom,” Dawn replied, laying back against her trio of fat pillows. “If my daddy hadn't been killed, he'd have helped you raise me and everything would have been okay. And as far as Poppa Jamie goes, even I know he's a trip when it comes to other women. That's not on you either. Glenn says that's just how men are, regardless of age.”

Serena licked her lips, reaching for a pinch of patience. This Glenn was sounding like a great influence. Not to mention she was already well aware that, at sixteen, he was a full year older than her baby. “Dawn, my point is that I've been through more than you need to know, at least for now.” She placed a pleading hand to her daughter's arm again. “Just trust me, please? In another year or two, when you're a little more mature, you'll have plenty of time to embrace your sexuality.”

“Mom, please.” Dawn's gaze wandered and she bit at a fingernail. “Let's not turn this into some after-school special.”

“Uhh,” Serena said, literally thinking out loud as she pressed the back of a hand to her forehead. “This is so not fun. Maybe I should have your granny talk to you—it didn't work, but she gave me a hell of an abstinence talk when I was your age.”

“Oh. My. God.” Dawn's mouth was a gate ajar, her shock was so great. “I can't have Granny know I'm even
thinking
about this, Mom. Are you crazy?”

Serena patted Dawn's hand. “You realize, right, that your Granny had to have sex in order to bring me into this world?”

“Duh,” Dawn replied. “I also know I don't want my granny even thinking about me doing anything sexual. Ooh! The thought makes my skin crawl.”

Serena raised an eyebrow. “You saying if I warn your granny that you're thinking about sex, it'll spoil the appeal of getting your little underdeveloped groove on?”

Dawn's complexion was suddenly ashen, her horror was so
great. “Mom, if you tell her one word of what we talked about, I'm done with you. Really. Done.”

“Take it easy, take it easy.” Serena patted her child's arm this time and tried to collect herself. “I won't tell her anything, I promise, as long as you hear me out and don't rush into anything.”

“You want me to hold off?” Dawn's eyes brightened with a challenging flourish and she crossed her arms. “You gotta tell me some of these things you've been through, Mom. Give a girl a reason to be square, at least.”

“Dawn—” Serena's eyes darted down out of embarrassment. It would be so easy.
You want a reason, huh, do you? How about this? Six weeks ago your momma bum-rushed her old boyfriend like a two-bit whore. Rode him half the night and whipped it on him like a twenty-year-old. And now, just as your Poppa Jamie's trying to do right by all of us, I can't even appreciate it like I should.

She didn't take it there, of course. Instead, she clasped her hands and shared something less earth-shattering. “Well, I've told you about my problems with drunk driving,” she began, “but there was more. I was fourteen when I smoked my first joint—”

Footsteps scampered down the hallway and ceased outside Dawn's door. “Mommy!” Sydney's yell was followed by eager knocks at the closed door. “Daddy's home! Daddy's home!”

Looking over her shoulder after checking her watch, Serena realized Jamie was actually right on schedule. After a two-hour phone conversation three nights ago, Fritz had convinced her that Jamie was ready to move back into the house. Serena hadn't promised to be a welcoming host, but agreed to give it a try.

She turned back toward Dawn but yelled over her shoulder. “We'll be right out, Sydney!”

“No, Mom, it's cool,” Dawn said, pivoting and swinging her long legs over the side of the bed. “We can pick this up later.” She nodded suddenly. “And so we're clear, this conversation stays between us, right?”

“As long as you agree we're not finished.”

Dawn shrugged. “Whatever.”

Serena reached out and quickly pinched the skin in the center
of Dawn's right hand. “Whatever, huh? Count on this conversation being continued, missie.”

By the time she emerged from Dawn's room, Jamie was already in the master suite, an open suitcase before him on their bed. Or what had been their bed. Standing in the threshold of the doorway, Serena crossed her arms but took the edge off of her tone. “Hello.”

“How are you?” Jamie turned and stared at her, clearly wishing he could cross the distance between them and greet her properly. Long arms hanging at his side, his posture was solid but meek. The new humility still seemed like the lingering effect of Jamie's belated sharing of the childhood abuse he'd suffered. He had first sent Fritz to Serena with the most sordid details, but a week after his return from Italy he had come by to fill in the gaps. “I was just too proud,” he kept saying. “No real man wants to be identified with that type of abuse.” Serena still couldn't believe the way he had cried in her arms, finally unleashing the pains that send many to an early grave.

“I'm sorry if I interrupted a private moment between you and Dawn,” Jamie said now, facing her. “I thought we agreed on five o'clock.”

“We did,” Serena replied without moving an inch. “Um, why are you unpacking in here?”

Jamie, who had started to turn back toward the bed, whipped around again. “What do you mean?”

Serena touched a hand to her throat but kept her eyes fixed to her husband's. “I don't feel comfortable with you sleeping in here, Jamie. Not yet.”

“No?” His shoulders rotated as he processed her words. “I–I didn't know that was an issue. I guess I thought after all we've been through the past few weeks—”

Serena raised a hand, as lovingly as she could. “Jamie, this doesn't take away from what we've been through. Really, I respect everything you've shown me since you came back.” This was the naked truth. Fritz's revelation about the sexual abuse Jamie suffered in his teens had convinced Serena to give him a second
chance. While she didn't excuse his years of infidelity, she did feel she better understood them now.

In the month since he'd returned from Italy and retired from basketball, Jamie had done nothing but reward her decision to give him the benefit of the doubt. Not only had he subjected himself to Fritz's calming influence, he was in the process of formally converting to the Nation. At any given moment, Serena knew Jamie was either at the mosque, at Fritz's, or at his new job: teaching chemistry at Princeton High School, where the principal had convinced him to also serve as an assistant basketball coach. With his newly found inner peace, Jamie was much more comfortable than he'd been in his previous life as a substitute teacher.

If he wasn't in one of those three places in recent weeks, Jamie was out with the girls—taking Sydney and Dawn shopping, to plays, or attending their after-school activities. He and Serena had even gone out on a weekly date night, taking time to soberly discuss secrets they'd withheld and weighing the price of forgiveness. After their last “date,” he'd presented her with a trinket she knew she'd cherish regardless of what the future held: a locket with an enclosed picture of her, Jamie, and the girls from the year Sydney was born. Reliving days that had been so full of hope and promise was painful on one level but invigorating on another, a reminder of the good things life had to offer. In moments when she was tempted to skip another dose of her lithium, she found that a glimpse at the locket quickly fortified her.

They had covered considerable ground in a short time, but as Serena pictured herself climbing back into bed with this man, she knew an unwelcome guest would be joining them, and after just a few weeks she wasn't quite ready to face Tony Gooden. If she wasn't ready to face him, Jamie certainly wasn't.