Читать книгу A Rich Man's Baby - Daaimah S. Poole - Страница 10

The dean called my name: “Dionne Matthews.”

I walked across the stage in my blue and gold with a big smile. I was so excited and relieved. It was finally over. The last few years had built me up for this. My clerkships, internships, and studying nonstop were finally over. At twenty-six I was now Dionne Matthews, Esquire. In the sea of people sitting in white metal chairs on the green lawn, I saw my parents, Pamela and William, standing up. They were so proud of me. Next to them was my older sister, Camille, and my boyfriend, Terrance. I posed and smiled, shook the dean’s hand, and walked offstage.

After the ceremony was over, I took a few pictures with my classmates and hugged, said good-bye, and collected e-mail addresses. I saw my girl Claudia. She was my study partner since my second year.

She yelled, “We did it! Let me get a picture.” We stood cheek-to-cheek and made silly faces as her father tried to operate her digital camera and took our picture.

“Proud of you, girl. I’m going to call you,” Claudia shouted.

“E-mail me when you get settled. Enjoy your summer,” I said as I walked through the crowd of graduates and parents and tried to locate my family.

My dad tapped my shoulder; I turned around and he gave me a kiss and pushed a bouquet of red roses into my hands.

“Thanks, Daddy,” I said as I smiled and gave his robust body a hug. My dad was losing all his hair, but was still a very handsome man.

My mother and sister came up and congratulated me too. As soon as they let me go, Terrance whispered how he was proud of me and grabbed my hand. We walked toward the cars; we were all meeting at a steak house to celebrate my graduation. Once in the car, Terrance gave me a kiss and hug, and told me how proud he was again. If it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t be graduating. He put up with a lot of studying and crying and bitching. I thanked him for standing by my side. I was truly blessed with a good man. Terrance was a business consultant for Artec, a business consulting firm in Wilmington, Delaware. His job required two weeks out of the month traveling. My Terrance was handsome, not that tall but handsome. He was five eight with cardboard-brown clear skin and jet-black low-cut hair. His mustache and beard were trimmed down, and his round glasses rested perfectly on his face.

We met up for dinner at the crowded steak house. I saw other people from my graduation still in their caps and gowns. I took mine off after seeing how silly they looked in theirs. We all sat down at a big round table set for our party of five and began looking over our menus.

“Why did you cut your hair?” my dad asked.

“I think my hair makes me look professional. You don’t like it, Daddy?”

“No, women need hair. It looks short, like a boy’s.”

“I think it looks good. She is going to have to be taken seriously at work,” my mother said. She patted her silver and black wavy hair. She had an asymmetrical bob with a part to the side. It looked beautiful up against her midnight skin. I looked just like her, a few shades lighter, petite, with bright brown eyes.

“Retirement is two years away, huh, Mrs. Matthew?” Terrance asked, changing the subject from my hair.

“Yeah, Mom, what are you going to do?” I asked.

She had been in the education field for thirty-plus years. She was a principal at the Rosemont Elementary School.

“I don’t know yet. But the first year I’m going to rest; then I don’t know. I may even go play golf with your father.”

“Who picked a steak house?” Camille asked as she scooted up closer to the table and looked over the menu in disgust.

“Your father did.”

“Daddy, you know I’m a vegetarian,” she exclaimed.

“This is not about you, Camille. This dinner is for your sister,” my father said sternly. Camille was twenty-eight and acted like she was sixteen at times.

“Right, I forgot nobody cares about me,” she said as she closed the menu.

“Are you staying over?” I asked my mother.

“No, we’re riding back to Philly tonight. Your daddy is still being cheap. He doesn’t want to waste the money on a hotel room.”

“I’m not being cheap. It is only a two-hour ride, and I have patients in the morning.”

My mother gave us a look like “don’t believe him.” We ordered our dinner and the waiter brought us our food promptly. I wasn’t really hungry, but I ordered a steak to eat in Camille’s face as she munched on a garden salad. We were silly like that. We annoyed each other at times but still had sisterly love. She was older and always complained because I was the baby and got whatever I wanted.

“When do you start working, Dionne?” my father asked halfway through our meal.

“I take review classes for the next few weeks, then the bar at the end of July, and I start working in September. I already accepted a position in the public defender’s office at home.”

“Where are you going to live?”

“I’m moving in with Terrance.”

My parents looked at each other, and Camille smirked at me like “ha-ha.”

“Daddy, it makes sense. He is not there half the month, and it is close to my job.”

“I don’t know about that whole living together stuff,” my father said, wiping his mouth and staring at Terrance.

It was very uncomfortable. My father was chewing fast and taking bites and just shaking his head. Terrance, unaffected, pulled out a box. He passed it across the table. I opened the brown box. It was a black leather Louis Vuitton briefcase.

“Very nice,” my mother said, as I showcased my briefcase on the table.

My father was not impressed and still gave Terrance a silent, evil stare.

“Thank you,” I said as I set it down next to me.

After dinner, I said good-bye to my mother and sister while my father whispered something to Terrance in his ear.

“What was my father saying?” I asked as we walked down the street toward Terrance’s Infinti X35 SUV.

“Nothing.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. He just told me to call him,” he said as he wrapped his arms around me. Our waiter came running out of the restaurant and said, “Miss, your box.”

“Thank you so very much,” I said as I looked over at Terrance. I knew he was going to say something.

“How do you leave a thousand-dollar briefcase on the table?”

“I don’t know. You know I am forgetful at times.”

Terrance was so disciplined and so was I at times. He wrote down his goal, wrote a plan of action, and got it done. He was quiet and reserved. I’m sure that was from growing up in a house with four women. He had three sisters, Tasha, Tamika, and Torey, and his mother, Felicia. Yes, his mother gave all her children first names beginning with T after their father, Tony. Terrance’s sisters all talked fast in these funny little Brooklyn accents. The first time they met me, they said, “Oh no, Terrance, where did you meet this girl? We don’t like her.” Right in front of my face. So I kept my distance from them. I didn’t understand them and they didn’t understand me. They all worked little jobs, didn’t have children, and still shared an apartment with their mother, and had the nerve not to like me and call me bougie.

Terrance and I had been together for the last two and half years. It was pretty serious. I met Terrance through his friend Darren. Darren was in a few of my classes and said he wanted to introduce me to his photographer friend. We met in person at Darren’s birthday party, exchanged numbers, and started hanging out on weekends. On our first date I informed him I could not date a starving artist, and he let me know that photography was just a hobby and he also had a degree in business from American University.

We entered our large two-bedroom apartment. There was a cream sofa and two black end tables filled with magazines in the shape of a fan. Terrance had black-and-white photos he had taken hung over the mantel. We had a small kitchen with a table for two. And our computer desk set up in the corner. When I moved in last month, we agreed only to keep three things from our apartments. Everything else went to the Salvation Army.

“Look in the closet,” Terrance said with a big smile.

I couldn’t imagine what could be inside. I kept my eyes closed and walked over. There were five suits and three pairs of shoes.

“I want you to walk in that office like you already own it,” he said as he hugged me.

“That’s what I’m going to do, baby. How did you pull this off?” I asked. The suits were perfect. I was amazed that he got my style and size correct. The briefcase matched my shoes, and the suits were Tahari and Donna Karan.

“I took one of your other suits to Bloomingdale’s, and you know what? I can’t take credit for it. The saleswoman put them together, so you have to go and thank her. I just paid for them.”

“Terrance, this is so sweet. Thank you, baby,” I said as I turned to kiss him.

My life was so good. I had so much to be happy about. I had a great man and was about to begin my dream career. After Terrance was asleep, I tiptoed into the bathroom to call the other special man in my life: my ex-boyfriend Kevin Wallace.

“I’m done. I’m an attorney now,” I whispered excitedly.

“Congrats, baby. When are you coming out here?”

“I don’t know. I start my new job in September. I’ll talk to you later. I just wanted to call and tell you,” I said before hanging up. I got back into the bed with Terrance. My thoughts wandered to Kevin and four years earlier. Kevin played basketball for our college Georgetown. He was pretty good but never seemed to catch a break. He couldn’t stay out of trouble or keep his friends from Richmond off campus. Then he scored low on his SATs, so he had to sit out his freshman year. He got caught with one of his friend’s weed and almost got kicked out of school. We met at one of the parties. He started being with me and left the bad scene behind. He was the leader in scoring and rebounds. He had a lot of hype around him and everybody knew he would go pro.

Kevin eventually put his bid in for the NBA our senior year. I remember that night me and his mother, sister, and his mom’s boyfriend sat in front of the television waiting for them to call his name. We cringed every time a guy he knew or played against walked onstage and put on their team jersey and hat. We waited all night, watching until the second round and the last name was called. He was shocked and so were we. He had worked out with the Pistons and Warriors. He was just about promised a spot with the Raptors. He was so disappointed. Kevin’s agent told us not to worry and that he would work things out for him. That didn’t stop Kevin from crying in my arms. He wasn’t worried about being in the league as much as he was worried about taking care of his mother and little sister, Andrea.

Everybody was already calling and had so many expectations for him. When he wasn’t selected, it shattered his ego. I comforted him all night.

As promised, the next morning his agent, Larry, called and said that he got him a deal with a team in Italy. I wanted to go with him, but I couldn’t pass up school. I had already been accepted to Howard Law, and I wasn’t his wife, so I wasn’t about to go overseas with him. He was very upset about my decision and to this day, if you asked Kevin, he would say I abandoned him while he was at his lowest. And it wasn’t like that at all. It was just that his basketball dreams weren’t reality. I didn’t know how long he would last, and I couldn’t face my parents and tell them I wasn’t going to law school. So instead, I let my man go. And after he left I had a major breakdown and had to be hospitalized. It was like I couldn’t live without him. I almost didn’t make it through my first year of law school. But with my parents and sister by my side, I made it. I think going through that breakdown made my and Kevin’s relationship stronger. He realized it was hard on me too. Today, we still kept in touch—friends with benefits. I went to visit him from time to time. And when he was home, we’d meet up.