Just Too Good to Be True (14 page)

CHAPTER
8

Barrett’s Bribes

W
hen Barrett got home from another annoying cheerleading practice, she noticed a note taped to her door. She dropped the green duffel bag with her name embroidered in gold and opened the note.

Check under your bathroom sink and you’ll find a little gift you need to give your boy. He will most likely reject it, but you must make him take it. I know you can do it.

Barrett walked into her kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water. She took a couple of swigs and went into her bathroom.

In the back of the cabinet, Barrett saw a silver bag with a royal-blue ribbon tied around it. Barrett took the bag and sat it on the counter as she caught a glance of her face. She noted that she needed to reapply her lipstick before Brady dropped by. She tore the ribbon from the bag and pulled out a leather blue box with the name Rolex embossed in gold.

Barrett opened the box and saw a beautiful gold and silver watch with a blue face. It was very heavy and masculine-looking, and Barrett couldn’t wait to see the look on Brady’s face when he saw it.

“This is great, Barrett.
Who taught you how to make food like this?” Brady said as he took a bite of a shrimp salad sandwich. He and Barrett were sitting on a blanket with a picnic basket in Barrett’s living room.

“So you like it?” Barrett smiled.

“Yeah, it’s hitting the spot. Did your mother teach you how to make this?”

Barrett started laughing, cupping her hand over her mouth.

“What’s so funny?” Brady asked.

“Your question, that’s what’s funny. When you meet my mother, you’ll realize right away that she is not the type who spends time in the kitchen.”

“My mother doesn’t cook much because she’s by herself now, but she cooked for me all the time when I was growing up. So who taught you this? Your nanny?”

“What makes you think I had a nanny?”

“I don’t know, you just seem like the type,” Brady said, and smiled.

“I’m going to act like you didn’t say that, and for the record I only had a nanny until I was six. Also, it was my father who taught me how to cook.”

“You’re kidding. Your father can cook?”

“Yes, he’s an amazing man,” Barrett lied.

“When am I going to meet your parents?” Brady asked.

“Hopefully real soon. They’ve been out of the country, but I’m going to get them to come to a game before the season’s over,” Barrett said.

Brady finished the rest of his sandwich and a cucumber and tomato salad, while Barrett told him about her father—that he was from New Orleans, an only boy with two sisters. Her grandmother was a single mom and a cook at one of New Orleans’ most popular French Quarter restaurants.

“I thought your father was from Atlanta,” Brady said.

“Naw, he moved there after he finished college.”

“Where did he go to college?”

“Harvard,” Barrett lied.

“Must be a smart guy,” Brady said.

“Yeah, he’s very smart. What team do you look forward to playing the most?” Barrett asked, changing the direction of the conversation.

“The dreaded University of Texas Longhorns,” Brady said.

“Why the Texas Longhorns?”

Brady told Barrett that every major college in the United States had recruited him out of high school, but that the University of Texas hadn’t even sent him a letter. He told her that he was ranked among the top twenty-five running backs in the country and that Texas had sent Delmar and even the third-string running back letters, but nothing to him. Brady said he dreamed of the day when he might line up against the evil Orange Empire and run for over a thousand yards as payback for their rejection.

“Are they any good this year?” Barrett asked.

“Well, they are the defending national champs, but I don’t know. They don’t have Vince Young. I guess we will see in October,” Brady said.

“We’ll beat them bad with you in the backfield,” Barrett said, so happy she had taken the Women and Football course Nico had insisted on.

“I think you know as much football as my mom,” Brady said. “So what else did your father teach you?”

“He taught me a lot about men, and how I shouldn’t ever take shit from you people.”

“I don’t guess your father knew about men like me. My mother taught me a lot, too,” Brady said proudly.

“Did you suffer from not knowing or having a father?”

“Yeah, at times,” Brady said, his eyes beginning to glisten. Barrett saw this, and in a rare moment she felt sad for him. She recalled asking about her own father, and her mother telling her that she didn’t know who her father was and if she did he probably wouldn’t like her anyway.

“So do you ever visit his grave or anything?”

“No. I think he must have been cremated or something, because my mom never mentioned anything.”

“Do you ever think what it would have been like to have him around?”

Brady told her he thought about his father often but kept it to himself because he didn’t want to hurt his mother’s feelings. He told her that once when he was in the sixth grade he wanted to take an item that belonged to his father to school. When he asked his mother for something, she became really upset.

“But it doesn’t mean that I don’t think about him and what he was like. Sometimes when I have a big game and I walk out of the locker room and I see my teammates greeting their fathers, I think how great that must feel, but I got my moms, and she’s spent her life making sure I didn’t miss anything.”

“I know you’re close to your mother, and I like that. Any man who loves his mother as much as you do—well, that bodes well for his future wife. I still think it’s odd, though.”

“What’s odd?”

“That you haven’t even seen a picture of your father,” Barrett said. “Did he go to college? Where did he go to high school? I bet you could go to the school and look in the yearbooks and at least find out what he looks like. Who knows, you could look just like him.”

“I never thought about that, but I don’t think I could do something like that without my mother knowing,” Brady said, moving closer to Barrett. He was tired of all this talk about a man he had never known, and he blinked back tears like he had done so many times before.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m positive. Let’s talk about something else.”

“Like what?”

“How about what else your father taught you to cook that you can make for me.”

Barrett looked at Brady with a devilish grin on her face and rolled on top of him, whispering, “Let me show you something my father didn’t teach me.” And then she kissed him. Her lips were soft, and her scent stayed with Brady even after she had pulled away.

At the end of
the night, Barrett said, “Oh, before you leave, I have something for you.”

“I hope it’s another one of those sweet, sweet kisses,” Brady said, moving closer to Barrett as they sat on the sofa.

“You can get one of those anytime,” Barrett said. She pulled back, got up, and went into her closet. Then she walked toward Brady seductively with her hands behind her back. She could tell from the look in his eyes that his curiosity was piqued.

“What are you hiding behind your back?”

“Guess.”

“I’m not good at guessing.”

“What if I give you three chances?”

“Come on, Barrett, just give it to me,” Brady said.

“Now, you know I’ve been trying to do that since our second date,” Barrett teased as she pulled a box from behind her and handed it to Brady.

When he saw
Rolex
on the box, his heart started beating at a very rapid pace. As he slowly opened it, he felt as excited as a kid meeting his sports hero for the first time.

“Man, this is tight,” he said, giving a pleased Barrett a quick kiss on the lips.

“Try it on,” Barrett insisted.

Brady studied it for a few more minutes and then said, “You shouldn’t have done this. This is too expensive.”

“I wanted to do something nice for my man,” Barrett said.

“I don’t know, but I want to make sure I can accept this,” Brady said.

“Brady, I’m your girl. It’s an early birthday present. You need to stop being such a straight arrow. Take the watch and wear it.”

Brady gazed at the second hand of the handsome piece of jewelry for a full sixty seconds, then lifted the watch from the box, smiled, and said, “I guess I can’t refuse a birthday present from my girl.”

“Man, you’re a genius,”
Barrett said.

“So the old boy liked the watch, huh?” Nico said.

“Loved it.”

“Great! Now I can wire some money into his account. If choirboy doesn’t go along with our little plan, then we can show he was taking money from a booster. Then I’ll have him and that mother of his right where I want them.”

CHAPTER
9

Carmyn’s B-Boy Blues

I
picked up a copy of
Baby Brother’s Blues
by Pearl Cleage, one of my favorite authors, while Sylvester got dressed. We had just finished making love, and as usual we had both lapsed into silence. I knew why I did, but I couldn’t really speak for him. I always felt shame and guilt, because here I was having sex without the benefit of marriage, something I had taught Brady was one of the worst things he could do. Not to mention all the young people who were members of Saving Ourselves and who thought of me as the perfect Christian mother.

I pulled a soft blue chenille blanket over me as if it was covering up my shame, then looked up from the book and gazed at Sylvester. He had on his boxers, and I couldn’t help but notice how he looked like someone in their twenties, no paunch or sagging ass. He looked great for a man of forty-five. Sometimes after we made love, I would go weeks without calling him. But then I would remember his sweetness and his gentle touch and how he could flush my entire body with amazing sex. Why was it that underachievers were always so hot in bed? When Sylvester was in my bedroom, there was an aura of solid confidence about him that I didn’t see when he was taking orders or wiping off tables at his place of employment.

“I saw your son on ESPN, Carmyn. Looks like he’s off to a banner year,” Sylvester said, breaking the silence between us.

“You did? I missed it. Brady usually calls me when he’s going to be on television,” I said.

“Maybe he didn’t know. It was on Top Ten Plays of the Day. He looks like a helluva tailback and he got a pretty good arm,” Sylvester said.

“Yeah, my baby can do it all,” I said proudly.

“I still would like to go to a game with you sometime. From what I’ve read and seen, your son seems like a fine young man. I’d really like to meet him.”

“Maybe toward the end of the season, because right now I don’t want to bring any further complications into Brady’s life,” I said.

Sylvester frowned. “You view me as a complication? What is that about, Carmyn?”

“I didn’t mean it that way. It’s just, like I’ve told you before, I don’t know how Brady would react to me having someone in my life. It’s always been just the two of us,” I said.

“Sounds like Brady needs a girlfriend.” Sylvester put on his tan pants, sat on the edge of my bed, and tied his shoes.

“That’s the last thing he needs,” I snapped. I wasn’t upset with Sylvester, but when he said that my mind went back to the first game and how possessive that girl was, and it already seemed she had some sort of power over Brady.

“Has he signed with an agent yet?” Sylvester asked.

“Nope, too early. He can’t do that yet,” I said.

“Make sure you thoroughly check out whoever he signs with. There are a lot of snakes in that business.”

“Yeah, we’re well aware of that. I had to run one off last year,” I said, wondering what Sylvester knew about agents—or anything, other than making sandwiches.

“You’re a smart lady, Carmyn, and I’m sure you and Brady will make the right decision,” Sylvester said as he nodded at me. He finished buttoning his shirt, then came to my side of the bed. He bent over and kissed me softly.

“See you next time, pretty lady,” he said as he slid his finger playfully down my nose.

CHAPTER
10

Brady’s Shame Game

A
curtain of anger and shame covered me as I sat in my truck with my forehead on the steering wheel. When I finally looked up and saw most of the lights on in Lowell’s house, I figured I might as well get this over with.

When I had called Lowell after Chloe threatened me, he told me he was out of town but would call me when he got back. He also asked me if it was important enough for him to come back right away, and I told him no even though I was really worried about Chloe. So I was relieved when Lowell left me a message and said that I could come right over. Right before I got out of my truck, I got a text. It was from Naomi. It was rather cold. It said,
Yes, I do have a child. No, it isn’t yours, Brady.
Still, I breathed a sigh of relief and crossed that concern from my mind.

I rang the doorbell, and a few seconds later the stained-glass door flung open.

“Brady. Good to see you. Are you all right?” Lowell said.

“I’m doing okay,” I said as I dragged myself into the house.

“You look tired. Is practice going well?”

“Same ole same ole. How was your trip?”

“It was cool. I needed a little adult conversation, so I went up to Atlanta for a few days.”

“Did you see Mom?”

“No, so don’t tell her I was there. It was a little romantic getaway,” Lowell said.

“Cool. I didn’t know you were seeing anyone.”

“Well, it’s kinda on the low.”

“Gotcha.”

“Do you want something to drink? Why don’t we talk in the library,” Lowell said.

“Can I just have a bottle of water?”

“Sure. Go into the library and I’ll bring it to you.”

I walked into the book-lined room and the first thing I noticed was a picture of my mother and me in a silver frame. I walked over and picked it up. What would my mother think if she found out about what I had been doing? Would she ever again be able to look at me as her perfect son? What would the public and my fans think?

“So what’s going on?” Lowell said as he walked into the library carrying a bottle of water and a glass of red wine.

“I did something stupid and it’s come back to haunt me,” I said.

“Come on, Brady. What could you have done?” Lowell asked. “Come on over here. Let’s sit down.”

I followed Lowell to a chocolate-brown leather love seat near the windows. There was a wooden trunk with a piece of glass on the top that served as a coffee table. Lowell took a sip of his wine, then sat it on the top of the glass. I unscrewed the cap off the cold water and took a swig. Then I started talking.

“Beginning of freshman year, I got myself in a bind and needed some extra money. I saw an ad for modeling in the school paper and called the number. I went to see the lady, and she liked me and told me I could make some good money.”

“Why didn’t you come to me or your mother?” Lowell said, interrupting me.

“I did something bad and I didn’t want you guys to know,” I said.

“What, Brady? You know we love you. Nothing you could have done would change those feelings.”

“I know, but I needed to take care of this myself. I’d gotten myself in a mess and I needed to figure it out on my own. Anyway, the modeling job paid a hundred dollars an hour and sometimes she said I could work up to four hours.”

“I don’t see anything wrong with that. There is no denying you’re a great-looking young man,” Lowell said as he took another sip of wine.

“Yeah, if it had only stopped there, then there wouldn’t be anything wrong with it. The first time she asked me to take off my shirt, it felt funny, but I did it anyway. Every time I went, she asked me to take off something else, until I was standing in front of her butt-ass naked,” I said.

“In the nude?” Lowell asked in wide-eyed astonishment.

“Yes,” I said, holding my head down.

“Brady. Brady. Who is this woman?” Lowell asked.

“Her name is Chloe Perez, she’s on staff,” I said. “Do you know her?”

“I don’t know if I do.”

“Right now she’s on a leave of absence, working on an art book,” I said.

“Okay, so you took a few pictures in the nude. Did you sign a release form?”

“No,” I said.

“Then you don’t have anything to worry about,” Lowell said.

I didn’t say anything right away. I was worrying about what Lowell would say when I told him the rest.

“Is that it, Brady? You didn’t sign anything, did you? And is she threatening you?”

“Yeah, she is,” I said.

“How?”

“By releasing the photos. It could hurt my Heisman chances if voters found out I posed nude. Also, taking the money from her might be an NCAA violation, since she works for the university. We can’t hold jobs and that includes modeling without the school’s approval.”

“You said you did this when you were a freshman. Why is this coming up now?”

I told Lowell that I had continued to model for Chloe and that during the end of my sophomore year she wanted some pictures of me masturbating.

“Again, Brady, if you didn’t sign anything, there is nothing she can do with those photos. What aren’t you telling me?”

“Well, since I met Barrett, I thought I shouldn’t pose for Chloe anymore.”

“How old is this woman?”

“Mid-forties,” I said.

“So how long have these sessions been going on?”

“At first once a month, then once a week—since freshman year,” I said.

“So she got mad when you told her you didn’t want to pose anymore?”

“Yes.”

“But why? There must be a hundred guys who would pose for this woman. What else happened?”

Again I went mute.

“Brady, what happened?”

I lowered my head and thought about what I would say, then suddenly blurted out, “She performed some sexual favors for me.”

I glanced at Lowell, who looked like he was talking with a total stranger, and then he started laughing. He was laughing so hard that he held his stomach like he was in pain. He had always been so serious when I came to him with questions that I didn’t think my mother could answer.

“What’s so funny?” I asked.

Lowell took another sip of his wine and said, “This old broad is threatening you because you’ve pulled back the dick? Does she think it’s hers?”

“Lowell, you’ve got to promise me that you won’t say anything to my mother about this. It would kill her,” I said in a pleading tone.

“You don’t have to worry about that. But you know, in a way I think it’s cool. A young man like you needs to sow his oats, so to speak.”

“But I’m still saving myself. I mean, I haven’t done anything else with her,” I lied. “Plus, oral sex isn’t really sex,” I said defensively. I decided not to tell him about Naomi. I also didn’t tell him that Chloe had taught me how to please her, and that she said I was a very good student. One confession for now would have to do.

“Hmm, well, that’s a bit Clintonian of you, but I don’t know if Carmyn would feel that oral sex isn’t sex,” Lowell said, getting up to walk around the room. “How can I help? Do you want me to go and talk to this woman?”

“I don’t know if that would help. Maybe I should just keep doing it to save my career and any chances I have for the Heisman. I don’t want Barrett to find out. This is my first serious relationship, and I want it to be an honest one,” I said.

“So right now all she’s threatening to do is to release the photographs,” Lowell said.

“Word’s out that there are photos on the Internet of a member of our football team. I don’t think it’s me, but I could be next. She said she would take them to the press and then the coaches. It would be a disaster for me. Everything I’ve worked for would just be thrown out the window. She paid me for the photos, and even though I doubt she has ever been to a game, I think the NCAA would consider her a Jaguar booster,” I said.

“Don’t you worry about this, Brady. Just concentrate on football and this new girlfriend. I’ll talk to this Chloe woman. Two can play this game. I’m sure if the president of the university knew about this, Chloe would be out of a job,” Lowell said. He patted me on the knee, then rose and said, “Stand up and give your godfather a hug.”

So I did. While we hugged, I thought how lucky I was to have Lowell in my life. Then I thought of all the young men who were lucky enough to have not only a godfather but a real father, as well.

I did a double
take when I looked at the balance in my checking account. I’d stopped at the bank on the edge of campus to withdraw twenty dollars so that I would have some cash in my pocket.

The receipt read
$25,359.43.
This couldn’t be right. My mother hadn’t won the lottery, so something was wrong.

I clicked open my phone, looked at the log of missed calls, and saw that Barrett and my mother had called. I pressed my mother’s number as I walked back toward my truck. She answered after a couple of rings.

“Mom, I just left the ATM and there’s over twenty-five thousand dollars in my account!” I said.

“Then you must have a fairy godmother, because I didn’t do that,” my mother said.

“I guess the bank must have made a mistake,” I said as I pulled out of the bank parking lot. I started to turn back to notify the branch of the mistake, but when I looked at my dashboard clock, I realized I had only ten minutes to find a parking spot on campus and get to class on time.

“Maybe they did, but don’t worry about it. They’ll catch it and work everything out. Just don’t spend any of it. That’s not your money,” my mother said.

“Okay. Love you.”

“Love you, too, baby. Oh, before I forget, I’m meeting with Basil Henderson of XJI. He’s sent me a lot of information and is flying in from New York. I will keep you posted.”

“Sounds like a plan, Mom,” I said before hanging up the phone.

I took Barrett’s hand
as we strolled out of the Blockbuster near campus. I had been excited when she suggested we rent Spike Lee’s
Inside Man.
I much preferred to see a crime thriller than one of the chick flicks Barrett loved. But even with two of my favorite actors sharing the screen, Denzel Washington and Jodie Foster, I couldn’t focus. Not with the way Barrett put her head on my chest as we lay on her bed, and the way the fragrance of spring rain settled around her from the lotion she wore.

“I was thinking how I want you and my mother to be closer,” I said as I wrapped my arm around Barrett more securely. “You are my girl.”

“I don’t think your mother likes me,” Barrett said.

“Why would you say that? You’ve only met her one time.”

Barrett sighed. “I’m a woman. We know things like that. I’ve dealt with women not taking to me all of my life, so it’s really no big surprise.”

“But my mother isn’t like that. I mean, give her a chance to get to know you like I do,” I said.

“I guess I understand, with you being her only son, but you should have seen the evil eye she gave me when I walked up to you after the game and held your hand. If looks could kill, then we’d be having this conversation with you looking over my tombstone.” Barrett laughed.

“I bet your father is the same way about you.”

“But he knows I’m no longer his little girl,” Barrett responded.

“Because you’re my girl,” I said as I leaned over and kissed her deeply.

“Do you want to spend the night?” she asked seductively, her warm, sweet breath all in my face.

I thought for a few minutes about how wonderful it would be to wake up with Barrett in my arms. I could play with her hair and inhale her body’s tantalizing scent and feel the amazing smoothness of her skin. I wanted to know what it would feel like to take my manhood and go inside her, knowing that it would be tight and wet. And then I saw Naomi’s sad face when she told me that she was pregnant. I knew I could use a condom with Barrett, but I also knew they didn’t always work. I wanted Barrett bad, but I told myself I could wait.

I held Barrett tight and whispered, “You don’t know how much I want you, but I think I better bounce before I do something we might regret tomorrow.”