Yvonne had enough of these people. She remembered the scripture “
In this world you will have trials and tribulations. But cheer up, for I have overcome them all,
” and felt a beautiful peace in her spirit. She also knew that just as with Joshua, God was right in this room with her. Her
mother was right when she always told her and Rochelle to stay in the scriptures because you never knew when you’d need one
at a moment’s notice.
“No. Those boys are excellent students and a joy to teach. But this assignment is thirty percent of their grade and I want
them to get the A-pluses they have been working so hard for all year. That’s why I sent in the incompletes. I wanted them
to get the A-plus instead of an A-minus or B-plus.”
“Well, what about Sonny Washington III and DeMarcus Brown? I noticed that they have incompletes as well. Are you saying that
they are on the verge of an A-plus, too?”
Yvonne started laughing. She could now see where this was going. Trina, as well as Rochelle, who served as legal counsel for
the university, had schooled her on what was going on in the Athletic Department. Gilead was trying to bully her so that Curtis
Parker couldn’t play the players most capable of kicking Bouclair College’s butt when they faced off in two weeks. He knew,
she knew, everybody on campus knew that Sonny III, or June Bug Washington, and DeMarcus Brown didn’t have what it took to
take on those thugs from Bouclair College.
The Panthers needed some players who had skills and just enough gangsta in them to know when and how to get down and dirty
when they went up against those criminals masquerading as basketball players from Bouclair College. They also needed to start
the players who would do what their coach told them to do to win. They needed some players who listened, behaved, could play
the game, and had some sense.
“They have incompletes because I’m trying my best not to fail them,” Yvonne said as she put her bag back on the table and
pulled out a very pretty pink leather Dell laptop.
Yvonne opened the computer and turned it on.
“This will only take a minute. I just got this and it’s fast.”
Gilead looked at Kordell, who shrugged as if to say, “The heck if I know what this crazy girl is doing.”
Yvonne tap, tap, tapped on the laptop keys for about twenty seconds. Regina rapped her fancy red ink pen on the side of the
table, hoping that Yvonne would get the message and hurry up with whatever HGTV activity she was taking up their time to do.
“Done,” Yvonne said, smiling brightly and looking as if she held the winning ticket for the North Carolina Lottery.
Curtis thought she looked adorable with her face all lit up like that. He made a quick mental comparison between the two women
and Yvonne won hands down. Regina was definitely the better dressed of the two women—if you focused solely on the obvious
expense of their clothing.
Regina was wearing a forest green two-piece St. John’s suit with black suede boots and a black suede shoulder bag. Her immaculate
light brown weave with reddish blonde streaks running through it was straight and hanging down around her shoulders. Regina
was tall and striking, and she didn’t do a thing for Curtis right now. The girl didn’t have an ounce of personality. And Curtis
was not happy with the way she was suddenly so chummy with Gilead Jackson.
Yvonne didn’t have on anything close to what Regina was wearing and she looked ten times better. First, her work attire didn’t
always call for a business suit. But it was clear that Miss Lady was suited up for work and looking fit and good, too.
Curtis thought her black overalls with the tiny red bows all over them, long-sleeved white tee, red oversize oxford shirt,
and red-and-black LeBron James athletic shoes were perfect. Her dark brown curly ponytail was pulled through a black hat with
red bows that matched the overalls. Curtis knew that ponytail was real and didn’t have an ounce of weave in it. He had to
refrain from the urge to tug at it.
Those overalls fit Yvonne’s body so well that Curtis could only surmise she’d bought the outfit at Miss Thang’s Holy Ghost
Corner and Church Woman Boutique. It was the only place he could think of that would have those overalls and the matching
hat.
“Do you think you can quit tap-tapping on that laptop before Jesus returns,” Regina snapped.
Yvonne cut her eyes at Regina Young and said, “What could you possibly know about Jesus, with all of your rotten fruit clinging
to you like mold?”
Gilead and Kordell wanted to say “Ouch” because that little janitor had just sliced Regina down to the bone.
Normally, Regina would have torn somebody talking to her like that to shreds. But she opted to back down this time. The glint
in Polly Pocket’s eyes let her know that she would do well to leave Yvonne alone.
Plus, she was eager to get on with the business of the day. And after getting exactly what she wanted earlier this morning,
Regina knew that Gilead was expecting her to make good on the promises she had vowed to keep during a pivotal moment in their
earlier meeting—mainly finding an airtight way to keep Kaylo Bailey, LeDarius Johnson, and Sherron Grey on the bench during
the Bouclair College game.
Right now Gilead Jackson was frustrated, exhausted, and mean as a snake. In addition to all of that action with Regina, there
was Prudence Baylor, and of course his wife—couldn’t forget her. Folks just didn’t understand. Life could get real stressful
and complicated for a brother like him.
“Done what?” Gilead asked, wondering what all of that tippy-tippy tapping-tapping on that prissy-looking computer had to do
with him and this meeting. Yvonne Copeland had been summoned here to sign papers certifying that the three players in question
were failing her class. And she was also expected to sign another set of papers that indicated that June Bug Washington and
DeMarcus Brown were in good standing and could play in the Bouclair College game.
“I’ve calculated and sent in the grades for the five players, so that your department can put the three with passing grades
in the game, and give June Bug and DeMarcus a helping hand to the bench, where they belong.”
“But you can’t do that with incompletes,” Kordell said, jumping up in Yvonne’s face. He could not believe that this goofy
little heifer was messing up everything with a click of the mouse on that pink laptop. Who did important business on a
pink
laptop?
Yvonne backed away from Kordell Bivens, reached down in her overall side pocket, and pulled out a pair of red-handled pliers
that she kept on hand when working with those athletes. Some of those little negroes could get crazy if grade time clashed
with a big game.
Maurice jumped up but wasn’t as fast as Curtis, who practically leaped over that table to get at Kordell, who was about to
cuss his own self out for acting so impulsively. He was always getting on Rico about acting without thinking things through,
and here he was needing to take his own advice.
Kordell backed away from Yvonne fast. But not fast enough to escape Curtis’s fist making contact with his face. He fell backward
against the wall, and was getting ready to throw his own punch when Maurice body-slammed him against the wall and Yvonne,
with her little self, advanced on him with those dainty red pliers.
“Don’t you ever,
ever
blink at this girl wrong, Kordell,” Curtis hissed. “Or I swear I’ll mess you up. I’ll mess you up, man—MESS YOU UP.”
Regina was now at the door, with all of her fancy, bogusly drawn papers still in her briefcase, while Gilead made a feeble
effort to break up the fray between his coaches. He was careful, though. He knew this heifer was Maurice’s cousin, and that
those Fountains loved a good fight. But he had not expected such a reaction from Curtis Parker—never thought a Goody Two-Shoes
like Yvonne Copeland, or whatever her name was, held any appeal for a player like his head basketball coach.
Kordell collected himself and left. As mean and hateful as he was, Kordell Bivens was still smart. He knew that he could not
win this fight. In fact, if he stayed a moment longer he was going to get his tail whipped, not to mention lose his prowess
as Herr Doktor if Yvonne got a hold of him with those pliers. He’d forgotten how gangsta the Fountains and Parkers were. They
had all grown up in Cashmere Estates when it was still the projects. He, on the other hand, had grown up in the middle-class
Hillside Park.
“So,” Gilead Jackson said, “three players are back in the game, and June Bug and DeMarcus are benched for the rest of the
season.”
“I didn’t know that Kaylo, LeDarius, and Sherron had ever been out, Gilead,” Maurice said.
Gilead chose to ignore that comment and said, “So which one of you is going to call the Athletic Department’s biggest supporters
and tell them that their grandson and son are not eligible to play?”
“You are the only one with Bishop Sonny Washington’s and Reverend Marcel Brown’s phone numbers, Gilead. So I guess it’ll have
to be you,” Curtis told him and made a gesture toward Yvonne to get her things.
“The Washington and Brown families always express their feelings through their bank accounts,” Gilead said. “When they are
happy, they give generously to the school and to our department. And when they are pissed, well, I don’t want to think about
how they’ll act when somebody like Yvonne here pisses them off. Humph, they may even let Sam know that he doesn’t need people
like her here.”
Gilead was about to jab his finger in Yvonne’s direction but thought better of it when he saw the deadly expression in Curtis
Parker’s eyes.
Parker’s nose is wide open over Polly Pocket. Makes me wonder how that “I love to go to the library” Zeta flew low enough
under his radar to get that close to the brother’s emotions,
Gilead thought.
“Come on, Cuz, let’s get out of here,” Maurice said, thinking that Gilead Jackson was full of Hell and didn’t have any business
running the Athletic Department. Sometimes it was so hard to wait on God to work things out. But he knew that this was something
that only God could work out. Putting his finger in this pie would be the precursor to creating a great big mess.
Yvonne gathered up her things and hoped that she could keep her tears from falling while she was still in this building. Curtis
noticed that she was getting close to losing it. He grabbed her hand and led her out of the conference room.
It was taking everything in him not to wrap the baby up in his arms and make it all better for her. Curtis couldn’t remember
the last time he had felt like this about a woman. He stood at her car waiting for her to open the door and get in. He liked
this car—chic, artsy, and classy, just like Yvonne. Maurice came and stood next to Curtis to make sure his cousin was okay.
He hated to see those tears streaming down her cheeks. The girl had already been to Hell and back and didn’t need this.
“Baby, don’t cry,” Curtis said, heedless of the expression on Maurice’s face. “Nothing is going to happen to you, your job,
and those baby girls. You hear me, Yvonne. Baby, you are going to be all right.”
Yvonne nodded and tried to stop the tears. It felt as if the weight of the past two years were pressing down on her like a
ton of bricks. Part of her hurt like heck, and the other part felt that she was being washed clean with some kind of sparkling
elixir from Heaven. It was a most incredulous, yet confusing feeling.
Curtis took her hand off the steering wheel and kissed it. “You okay now?”
Yvonne nodded and smiled through her tears.
“Where you headed?”
“The hairdresser.”
“Will I see you tonight?”
Yvonne sniffed up the last of her tears and said, “Tonight? What’s going on tonight?”
“I saw your name on the list of folks with invitations to the Athletic Department’s Annual Fall Semester Reception at the
Sheraton Imperial.”
“You mean ‘The Negro Imperial,’” Yvonne told him with a smile. In the middle of all that was going on, she’d almost forgotten
about tonight—the main reason for getting her hair done and the makeover her sister had been pestering her to get for months
on end.
“That’s what I’m talking about,” Curtis said. “There is my baby’s winning smile.”
He conveniently ignored Maurice’s poking at him and whispering, “Can you school a bro on what’s happening.”
“You know that just about everything that’s hip, hot, and happening in black Durham goes down at the Sheraton Imperial Hotel.”
“True dat,” Curtis said. Black folks in Durham loved themselves some Sheraton Imperial, and were always holding some kind
of major event there.
“So, Curtis,” Yvonne said, smiling, “I’ll see you there tonight.”
“Why don’t you pick her up at the house, dawg? She lives in Cashmere Estates, less than a mile from your town house.”
“Oh, really,” Curtis said, grinning. This was getting better and better. He said, “Well, since we are neighbors, I’ll just
have to pick you up fo sho’. What time?”
“Six,” Maurice told both of them. “The reception starts at seven, so pick up Cuz at six.”
“Six it is,” Curtis said and closed Yvonne’s car door. He stood on the parking lot watching her car until it was no longer
in sight.
“You got it bad, you know that don’t you, dawg?” Maurice said.
“Forget you, man,” Curtis said. But all Maurice did was laugh. He was enjoying this. Never thought he’d see his best friend
fall for a woman worth falling for.
Y
vonne was running way behind for her hair appointment. Now that she had her first date in two, no almost twenty years, if
she counted the time she was married, the girl definitely wanted to get her hair done. Rochelle had set up four appointments
trying to get her in to see Elaine for a new do and makeover. But every time Yvonne had come up with a reason to cancel.
She couldn’t explain why she kept canceling. But it had taken this much time for Yvonne to let go of what Rochelle called
“The Excessive Intellectual’s Wife Do.” Rochelle had told her, “Okay, so now that you have been liberated from postmodern
I’m-so-smart-I’m-crazy, do you think you’ll get the hookup like the regular sistah that you are? Or do you want to walk around
looking like Bettina?”