Secrets On Lake Drive (2 page)

I fell somewhere in between the
high-maintenance type and the responsible woman. I would
occasionally pamper myself, but I wouldn’t die if I didn’t have my
nails done every two weeks like clockwork. I kept myself in shape,
too. I was borderline size twelve in jeans, but if need be, I knew
how to squeeze my booty into a size ten. My skin tone was a pretty
rich brown like that of actress Sanaa Lathan. My hair was brown and
fell almost halfway to the middle of my back. The good hair was a
result of the Indian on my mom’s side of the family. My hair was
just like hers. Back in high school, people always used to tell me
that I looked like Gabrielle Union. Even now, people still say
that. I think that’s why I get a lot of stares when I go out in
public.

I could get a little ghetto at times. In the
city, if you don’t stand up for yourself, nobody else is going to
do it. Still, you will never catch me with red nail polish and
circus clown weave. That just isn’t my style.

I turned to Sean with the grade book, and
through his glasses, I could see his eyes beaming down on my full
lips.
Why is this guy staring at my lips?
At first, I
thought he was eagerly anticipating what I was about to say. Then
again, maybe my mouth got his attention because I had some leftover
crumbs on them from those four peanut butter cookies I put a
hurtin’ on right before the conference started.
I thought I got
rid of all those crumbs.
The thought escaped me when I saw him
looking at my body, again.

“So…is there something wrong with his grades
or anything?” Sean asked, making excellent eye contact with me
after finally removing those oversized shades. He sounded agitated,
as if he didn’t want to be here.

“No. Roman is my best student. I’m just
concerned about him because he’s constantly being picked up late.
Sometimes I’m here with him for well over an hour, waiting for
someone to come and pick him up. Why is that?”

That irritated me to no end. I mean, here is
this man who’s supposed to be responsible for his child, yet for
the past six months, Roman had been hanging out after school with
me. I didn’t mind the company, but I wanted someone to care enough
to make sure he was being picked up on time.

“First of all, I pay people to pick my son
up,” he said boastfully. “And secondly, my tax dollars pay your
minimum wage salary. So, if you stay a few extra hours, you should
be thanking me for putting a few extra dollars in your pocket. So,
don’t question what time my son gets picked up. He’ll get picked up
when he gets picked up.”

Can you believe that?
I was finally getting
to know the pompous jerk I’d heard so much about around Milwaukee.
Sean was known in the streets to be a self-righteous, hot-tempered,
hard-to-get-along-with type of dude. He didn’t care what time Roman
got picked up, and on top of the pickup issue, he had the nerve to
insult my pay. Just because he made more money than me didn’t give
him any right to treat me like I was inferior.

“Well, tell
your
people
that
school is out at three, not five.”

I held up three fingers and flashed one of
those fake smiles. I could tell he knew it was phony.
So
what?
I didn’t care. Somebody had to say something, and that
somebody just so happened to be me.

“I’ll make sure and do that.” He pulled out a
twenty-dollar bill, placed it on my desk, and said, “You seem a
little tense. Why don’t you go and get a drink or two?” He then
turned around and started walking towards the door. “Come on,
Roman,” he hollered across the classroom. “Let’s go.”

“What a jerk,” I mumbled to myself, as he made his
way to the door.

He was a prime example of those white-collar
brothers that I despised, and I was happy to finally see him
leave.

Chapter 3 –
Confrontation

I walked into the hallway to take a breather
and to look around and see how many parents were still wondering
around aimlessly looking for their children’s teachers. I was
amazed at how young some of these parents appeared to be. But in
the city, the teenage pregnancy rates were higher than property
taxes, so I should’ve expected to see a lot of young mothers this
evening. At the end of my thoughts, I noticed Mr. Beauvais walking
back my way and he didn’t look happy. Maybe he heard me when I
called him a jerk.

“Lady, what is your problem with me?” he
asked, with a few wrinkles in his forehead, disturbing his perfect
face.

I had two problems with that question.
First, he didn’t address me by my name. We
did
just
introduce ourselves and shook hands moments ago. And second, who
said he was the problem? That goes to show you that men don’t
listen. I told him the problem was Roman being picked up late. I
didn’t say he was the problem, although I probably should have.

“First of all, my name is Monica Smith, not
lady. Second, the problem is, as I stated moments ago, your son is
being picked up late, Mr. Beauvais,” I replied, getting a little
bold with the brother. I mean, how is he just going to roll up on
me like that and think I’m supposed to back down?

“Academically, you’ve said nothing about the
way my son is progressing. The only thing you have to say to me is
that he’s getting picked up late?”

Crap
. He had a point. Maybe I
should’ve eased the
being picked up late
part in somewhere
after I told Sean how well Roman was doing in class. My bad. I did
tell him that Roman was my best student, though. But first things
first – the boy needed a reliable ride home. And since Sean was too
high of a status to let Roman ride the bus, then he had to sit and
wait until someone showed up.

“Roman is doing an excellent job in my
class…”

“Well, why didn’t you say that?” he asked,
interrupting me with some smart remark.

I really didn’t have time to deal with his
ego. Not only did my feet hurt, but I just got my period and was
fresh out of Motrin.
Can you say World War III?

“Mr. Beauvais, are you here for Roman, or is it your
aim to go back and forth regarding this issue? The bottom line is
Roman needs a ride home, and I see this all the time where the
parents are too busy trying to make that next dollar to spend any
time with their kids. From what I hear, if you’re not chasing
paper, you’re chasing women, looking for the next best thing
because one woman is never enough for Sean Beauvais. I know all
about you and your reputation, and I feel sorry for Roman because
he deserves so much better than a father figure like you.”

I couldn’t believe I had just said that. It
was definitely not me talking, maybe the cramps. That time of the
month threw me into different moods. One minute, I could be as
peaceful as a stream of water, and the next, I felt as if I could
rip someone’s head clean off of their body and feed it to a pack of
wolves.

Then again, maybe a little bit of that was
me talking because I despised men like him. I’d rather hear
fingernails on a chalkboard than listen to the garbage he was
trying to spit at me. Unable to look in his face any longer, I left
him standing there and walked down the hall into the teacher’s
lounge with my grade book rolled up in my hand like a scroll. Sean
just stood there while I walked away. I knew he was mad, but oh
well. On the other hand, he wasn’t the type to let people get under
his skin. He was very relaxed and smug, and would let things roll
off his back. He didn’t have a care in the world.

I sat on the couch in the lounge, kicked off
my shoes, and rubbed my toes back to life. Keisha came walking in a
few minutes later.

“Girl, what is wrong with you? Don’t you
know who that man is? He can get you fired!”

I laughed at Keisha’s statement. Unlike me,
she was not a confrontational person. She didn’t even like telling
parents bad things that their kids were doing in her classroom.
Though she was a good teacher, she let a lot of bad behavior slide
under the radar.

I, however, was a strict teacher. I would
bring in candy every week and let the kids stay outside for break
an extra five minutes. You know, little stuff to show my softer
side. However, let one of those little maniacs get out of line, and
they would be standing in the timeout corner faster than their
little, bright eyes could blink. And when they did get out of line,
I let them know and let their parents know. It was all a part of
the job. Keisha would have never had the guts to confront Sean like
I did, although, I’m sure she had a good time watching us go at
it.

“I don’t care,” I said in response to
Keisha’s statement, while taking a sip of water from my stained
glass I kept in the teacher’s lounge near the sink.

“Listen. We both know Sean is a questionable
parent, but we have to be professional about this. Being a teacher
means you’re going to run into the good and bad parents,
right?”

I knew she was right, though I didn’t want
to admit it. I probably owed Mr. Beauvais an apology, even after he
insulted my pay and gave me money to buy liquor.

“Yeah, you’re right, Keisha, but Roman is
not in your classroom. He’s in mine. I’m the one sitting here after
school with him, waiting and waiting and waiting.” I finished my
water and rinsed out the glass, leaving it turned upside down on a
brown paper towel. “You know what? It has been a long day. I’m
outta here.”

“Alright, girl.”

Keisha walked me back to my class, and I’m
glad I had her to talk to. Otherwise, I would’ve been a wreck.
Keisha has been my best friend since my freshman year in high
school, and we’ve been through a lot together. She was twenty-five
years old, only a few months older than me. Her frame was small
like actress Golden Brooks and her complexion was the same as mine.
She always wore her hair in micro-braids, which suited her skinny
face well.

“Hey, you wouldn’t happen to have any
Motrin, would you?” I asked Keisha.

Those cramps were creeping up on me, and I
wanted to put a stop to them right away before I told one of those
old, nosy teachers where they could go.

“Ah, I think I have some Advil. You need
some?”

“Yeah, girl. These cramps are killing me
right now.”

“Okay, let me go get my purse.”

I usually became addicted to ibuprofen during this
time of the month, along with ice cream, Oreos, and sour cream and
cheddar potato chips. There was just something about PMS and junk
food that went hand-in-hand.

When Keisha returned, I took the two Advils and left
the building. It was time for me to get home, soak my feet, and
prepare to do the same thing again tomorrow. I seriously need a
vacation.

***

The next day was class as usual and Roman didn’t
show up. I wasn’t surprised. I figured Mr. Beauvais had a trick up
his expensive sleeve, upset from last night’s shouting match. I’m
glad the day went by fast, because as soon as I left work, I called
his home. After the phone rang a couple of times, Roman picked
up.

“Hi, Roman. This is Ms. Smith, honey.”

“Hi, Ms. Smith.”

“Where’s your father?”

“He’s sitting right here.”

Roman handed the phone to his father and I could
hear him saying, “Here, Daddy. Ms. Smith wants to talk to you.” I
had no idea what to expect next. I thought Sean would just hang up
the phone, but he didn’t.

“Exactly what is it that you want?” he asked
grudgingly. He was angry and rightly so, being judged by a woman
that he’d had no previous dealings with. On top of that, I had the
nerve to call his home after the tirade I started at a
parent-teacher conference.

“I was calling to see why Roman wasn’t at
school today.”

“He was with me all day today, not like that’s any
of your business.”

“It is my business. Roman is my student, Mr.
Beauvais.”

“And he’s
my
son in case you
forgot!”

“Yeah, he’s your son, but you probably don’t even
know what his favorite sport is. As a matter of fact, you probably
wouldn’t even know the color of his eyes if he wasn’t right there
with you.”

Monica Smith strikes again. And it wasn’t
intentional. I don’t know what came over me.

“Look, lady. I’ve been trying to be patient with
you, but you don’t know me well enough to start throwing judgments
my way. And how dare you call my parenting skills into question.
You don’t live in my house.”

“I know of you…that’s enough,” I shot back. “I know
your son has been the last child to be picked up from my classroom.
I know that he pretends it doesn’t bother him, but it does. And I
know he wishes that his father would take more of an interest in
him rather than being consumed with making money and chasing
skirts!”

Whoa. I amazed myself with that one. If I
wasn’t so modest, I’d give myself a pat on the back. After hearing
a loud crash, the phone went dead. I must have pissed him off
again
.

I knew the man had a temper. Keisha’s
boyfriend Daryl has an older brother that actually went to school
with Sean, and he told Daryl stories about when they were in
school. Daryl told her that Sean was the type of cat that’ll fight
over anything. His parents were constantly going to school over his
fights and misbehaving, all throughout his high school years. After
college, he mellowed out, took things more easily and became a man,
learning that he didn’t need to settle his problems with violence.
To this day, he never let people get under his skin enough to cause
him to react in an aggressive manner. He had control over himself
for the most part. However, at times, he found it hard to control –
this being one of those times.

I hung up the phone since Sean
single-handedly chose to end the conversation
. I can’t get
anywhere with this guy,
I thought. I know I should’ve been a
tad more civil with Sean, but I just lost it. And I knew why.