Homecoming Weekend (10 page)

“Oh, uh, Kwame, right?” Tranise said. “My girls are trying to slow me down. Can you believe that?”

“I guess they're just looking out for you,” he said. “That's what your girls are for, right?””

Tranise immediately sobered up. Not that she was drunk, but her buzz evaporated with Kwame's words. They seemed sincere. The men of her past were far less thoughtful and far more opportunistic. She liked his come-from.

“How about water for everyone?” he said.

“Well, you can get that heffa some water,” Mary said. “Me? I'd like a Ciroc and cranberry juice.”

“Make that two, if you don't mind, Kwame,” Charlene said.

“Tranise, want to go with me to help me carry the drinks?”

“I'll meet you over at the bar,” she said. When Kwame turned away, Tranise turned to her friends. “I'm on a roll. What do you think of Kwame?”

“It's not about what we think; it's what
you
think,” Charlene said. “And if you don't think he's fine enough for you to get to know, then I'm gonna believe that you are drunk . . . But that's just me.”

“No, it's not just you,” Mary said. “It's me, too. I don't care how old he is—wait, that didn't sound right. I meant to say that I don't care if you're a few years older than him. He's legal, apparently available and definitely interested in you.”

“Okay, okay, y'all blowing my little buzz,” Tranise said. “Let me see what's on this man's mind. I'll be back. Then we can leave and go to the other day party.”

“Not so fast,” Mary said. “Look over there. That's Rodney Mercer, my old boyfriend. And he looks good.”

“Rodney Mercer?” Tranise said. “Oh, that was the guy from our junior year. He left and transferred somewhere.”

“To North Carolina A&T,” Mary recalled. “His father died
and he went back home to be close to his family . . . Damn, I haven't seen him in six or seven years.”

“Well,” Charlene said, “looks like it's time to get reacquainted. I can see from here he's not wearing a wedding band.”

“Ole Hawk Eye Charlene at work,” Mary said. “Some things never change.”

“Hey, don't hate on it,” Charlene said. “If I recall correctly, I saw Rodney coming toward us at a step show one night when you were with that other guy, uh, Brett. I gave you the heads-up and you got rid of Brett, which, as they say, averted a disaster. So, don't act like my vision isn't used for good.”

“Girl, you're crazy,” Tranise said. “Okay, I gotta go. I'll be back.”

“Charlene, I hate to leave you, but I've got to go see Rodney,” Mary said.

“I'm coming with you,” Charlene said. “You ain't on no date. We're at a club.”

Mary smiled and grabbed Charlene's hand, leading her toward Rodney. On the way, however, they ran into Marissa Shaw, the best friend of Felicia, Brandon Barksdale's wife. Because Tranise and Felicia had beef, their best friends did, too. So it was not a cordial greeting when Mary and Charlene encountered Marissa.

But because they virtually bumped into each other, they could not help but speak.

“Marissa,” Mary said. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Marissa responded. But the “greetings” were flat and unemotional.

Charlene did not utter a word. She just gave her a toothless smile and gave Mary a gentle push for her to continue walking.

“She's still the same,” Mary said to Charlene. “A deadbeat.”

Before Charlene could contribute to the conversation, Rodney noticed Mary and came rushing over, bumping into classmates
Troy Brown and Dee Graves on the way. That was Rodney, aggressive to the point of being obnoxious at times. Charlene used to question whether he was on steroids because his behavior was occasionally erratic.

His and Mary's eyes met and they smiled the brightest smiles. She opened her arms to hug him and he was classic Rodney: He lifted her off the ground.

“Rodney, put me down,” Mary said, slapping him on his shoulders.

He finally obliged and put her down—but then hugged her tightly. “Girl, I was in love with your ass,” he said so loudly that those near them could hear what he yelled, even over the bumping music.

“Yeah, I know you were in love with my ass,” Mary said. “But you weren't in love with me.”

Charlene laughed, and Rodney turned to her.

“Don't encourage her, Charlene,” he said, then he stepped over and hugged her. “She thinks she has an audience and she's liable to say anything for a laugh.”

“Rodney, forget that,” Mary said. “What's going on? Where have you been? And isn't A&T's Homecoming this weekend, too?”

“I'm good, as you can see,” he said, looking down at his muscular body. “I've been in living in Raleigh, working at Cisco since I graduated. All is good. Yeah, it's GHOE this weekend—Greatest Homecoming On Earth—but I feel like I'm as much or even more connected to Norfolk State. So, my boy who graduated with me at A&T came up so I can show him how we do it at NSU.

“But it had better be off the chain because A&T's homecoming is crazy. I was drunk for two days straight.”

“I heard homecoming at A&T was awesome,” Charlene said. “But so is ours. And it's the same at South Carolina State, Hampton, Virginia State, Morgan State, Morehouse, Florida A&M, Southern,
Tuskegee, North Carolina Central, Grambling, Virginia Union, Winston-Salem . . . Need I go on?”

“That's true,” Rodney said. “But you won't even believe this, but I chose Norfolk State because I was hoping you would be here.”

“Stop, Rodney,” Mary said. “There you go with your lying.”

“Wait, hold up. Wait a damn minute,” Rodney said. “First, when did I lie to you about anything? And second, when did you catch me in a lie?”

He burst out laughing at his own joke as Mary and Charlene looked at him.

“Okay, look, I might have lied about some things back then,” he said. “But I was nineteen years old, maybe twenty. Lying is part of all of our DNAs at that age. I've outgrown that nonsense and I'm telling you, I really wanted to see you. No bullshit.”

“On that note, I will go to the bar,” Charlene said.

“Come here, Mary,” Rodney said. “I have a seat over here. Let's talk.”

There was something in the way Rodney spoke that got Mary's attention. He was serious. More than that, he seemed sincere. And so she followed him to a table near the back and away from the action. He introduced her to his friend, who was sitting and holding a seat next to him. He excused himself and Rodney and Mary sat.

They complimented each other on how they looked and caught up on each other's lives. After ten minutes of that chatter, Rodney got down to it.

“You know me; I come with it,” he said. His forehead was doused in sweat although he had been sitting the entire time. “I left here because I had to, for my family. And I, you know, buried myself in my pain and my family and didn't really deal with having to leave you like I did.

“I was in love with you, Mary. A choice had to be made and it was easy—my mom and little brother and sisters needed me to be there. I wish I had handled it better with you. I was so messed up in the head, losing my father suddenly like that. I recall us communicating a few times after I left, but somehow we just lost touch. And when I came to a place where I thought I had it together, we had totally lost touch.”

Mary listened with amazement. She and Rodney had been in a relationship, but it was more a physical thing than an emotional thing. At least for her it was. Hearing this from Rodney seven years later was quite surprising.

“How many drinks have you had?” she asked him sarcastically.

“See, you still don't take me seriously.”

“Rodney, I didn't expect this,” Mary said. “Hell, I didn't expect to see you. I never forgot you, though. You were a good friend and we had fun. But it's been a long time. No one could have told me I would see you here and then that you'd have this to say to me.”

“Well, surprises happen,” he said. “And they're good for you. You don't look like you're married. You—”

“I don't look like I'm married?” Mary said.

“No. You look happy; married people don't look like you look,” he said.

And Mary blushed, which was an accomplishment because she wore a protective shield of armor ever since her parents had divorced when she was in ninth grade. She witnessed her mom's pain and vowed to never experience it herself, which is why she took Rodney in college as something less than serious. She did not want it to be serious.

Now here he was, as a mature man, professing something strong toward her. This time, it had more power, as the years of being unfulfilled started to catch up with Mary.

“Remember the big snowstorm and we walked from campus across the Campostella Bridge to Giant Open Air Market to get some food?” Rodney said. “We were about the only people out there walking. It was freezing, but it was fun.”

“Yeah, and I remember what happened when we found that little nook in the Wilder Building, too,” Mary said, blushing.

“I remember, too. Very well,” Rodney said. “I had my pants down by my ankles in the snow. My ass was freezing. But that didn't stop us.”

“We must have been crazy to do that outside in a damn blizzard,” Mary said, shaking her head. “Just crazy.”

“I think we should take a walk to the Wilder Building tonight to revisit the scene of the . . . ”

“The crime,” Mary said. “Go ahead and say it.”

They both laughed and before she knew it, her hand was on his leg. She was not the touchy-feely type, but she found herself being drawn closer to her old boyfriend by the minute.

“Don't you have a woman at home?” she asked, mostly as a defense mechanism. Maybe if he told her he was in a serious relationship, she would be less attracted to him. Maybe.

“I had a woman; you know how that goes,” he said. “Good and bad until finally bad is too bad to keep dealing with. So . . . ”

“I do know how it is,” Mary said. “I have to tell you, Rodney, that I have been in a committed relationship for almost three years. He's a good man. He adores me.”

Rodney did not say anything. He just admired her dark chocolate complexion and the full lips that he used to kiss when he really was not that good of a kisser.

“We need some drinks, don't you think?” he said.

“I've already had a few and it's not even five o'clock,” Mary said. “How am I going to hang out tonight if I keep drinking like this?”

“You're still young,” Rodney said.

“But I'm not on steroids, like you,” she said.

“You really believe that, don't you? I remember you saying that to me when I was nineteen,” he responded. “I don't do drugs; well, not anymore. And I never did steroids. For the record, I'm just a high-energy guy. You should know that better than anyone.”

Mary laughed knowingly.

“Anyway,” Rodney added, “I'm very serious about what I've said to you, Mary. You were my girl. I think we should at least see if what we had is still there.”

“I don't know what to say, Rod. That was a long time ago. We were teenagers, kids,” Mary said. “I don't see what harm it will do to spend some time together this weekend. But I don't think it should be about trying to rekindle the past.”

“That's fine,” he said. “And you're right. The past is done. It's really about who we are now. I'm cool with that.”

He leaned over and hugged Mary and she hugged him back.

“Ahem,” Tranise said, standing over them. “Get a room already.”

“Well, look at you,” Rodney said, standing up.

“Don't pick me up, Rodney,” Tranise said. She recalled his unbridled enthusiasm.

He did as she asked and hugged her. “Wow, you look great, Tranise,” he said. “Mary told me you were here.”

“You look great, too,” she said. “I see you trying to pick up where you left off.”

“Definitely,” he said.

Tranise introduced him to Kwame, who stood patiently by as they exchanged greetings.

“Man, this is a great woman right here,” Rodney said.

“I'm learning that,” Kwame responded while looking at Tranise.

“Where is Charlene?” Mary asked.

“Right there,” Tranise said, pointing toward the dance floor.

Charlene was on the floor, having a ball. She could dance with the best of them and enjoyed dancing. “We'll never be able to leave now,” Mary said. “She's in her element.”

“Well, since we're going to be here a while, I say let's get more drinks,” Rodney said.

“Yes, Rodney, I'm with you,” Kwame said. “Let's make it happen.”

Catherine and Earl

I
n the month after the Sade concert and before homecoming, Earl and Catherine connected twice: once when she flew to Charlotte to participate in a cousin's wedding, and again when they had a one-day rendezvous in Richmond. Homecoming was only a few weeks away, but Catherine suggested meeting at a neutral destination to continue the get-to-know process.

Each occasion was easy and fun—and romantic. In Charlotte, they'd had an intimate dinner at Mimoso Grille downtown. Earl had offered to cook dinner at his house, but Catherine did not trust herself in that amount of privacy. She actually, as attracted as she was to Earl, told herself she would not have sex with him until the following year—another few two months. So she had stayed at the Westin. When the night was over, they had groped each other and kissed in his car like teenagers until the windows were too foggy to see through.

It was hard to resist Earl, but Catherine did. “I just want to get it right. We'll know when it's time,” she had told him.

He impressed Catherine by not trying to turn her convictions. “You're right, baby,” he had said. “Things will happen when they should happen.”