4. Frederick
4
FREDERICK
“ T his is me,” Rochelle says, tilting her head towards the dilapidated high-rise. A group of teenagers looks up, unimpressed, from the steps out in front.
“You know, you really did help me tonight. Let me give you something out of my appreciation.” I know someone like her could benefit from a few extra bucks, and it’s no skin off my back to help.
Rochelle shakes her head, dark curls bouncing. “I did it because it was the right thing to do. But if you want to go to the police station, the precinct is just a few blocks away. I can draw you a little map or something.”
“Nah, if you just want to tell me, that’s fine. You’ve already done enough.” She points down the end of the block. “Just down that way, over to Frederick Douglass Boulevard, near the Harriet Tubman statue. You can’t miss it.”
“Thank you again.” I glance back at her building, unsure how to end this interaction. I’m a little sore and my ribs are bruised, but I want to be a gentleman.
“No problem. I’ll see you around, I guess,” Rochelle shakes my hand, and I walk as she turns to head inside. I make sure she gets in okay, waiting until the door closes behind her.
Once she’s gone, I walk in a daze to the station, wondering if it’s even worth the effort of reporting. I feel like it’s only prudent to make someone aware, especially because the next time, the victim might be less able to defend themselves. What if it’s an elderly person out for a nice walk? I’m young and fit, and I still got dented up pretty good.
At the same time, my wallet wasn’t actually stolen. So they’re never going to be able to find the man who did it, and even if they do, there won’t be any proof that he’s the guy. For all I know, they’re going to just laugh at me and tell me to quit wasting their time on a snipe hunt.
I pull the station doors open. An officer greets me as soon as I walk in, and I tell her I’m there to make a report of my recent attempted mugging.
“Can I help you?” the woman at reception asks from behind a pane of glass, eying me like I came from another planet. Other employees look up from their desks.
“Yeah. I got jumped in the park, on one of the walking paths. I want to file a report. Is this the right precinct?”
“Yeah, it is. Let me find a detective to take your report.”
When a female detective pulls me back for an interview, I tell her about the assault and give as good a description as I can of the suspect. I’m sure they’ve filmed a ‘Law and Order’ around here about an identical scenario. I wonder if they’ve filmed in this exact precinct.
“Did you have any valuables?”
“He didn’t get anything from me, no.”
“Did he see you with cash? Maybe you bought something and he noticed what you were carrying?”
I almost don’t want to admit how much I had in my wallet, especially right here, in such a high-need part of the city. But embarrassment isn’t enough of a reason to lie.
“Maybe. I’m carrying about $2,500.”
Her eyebrows go up. “Really. Whew, I can pay my rent and a month of groceries with that. That’s quite a lot to be walking around with. Big potential loss.”
“Yeah,” I say, feeling guilty that for me it’s not. I could never work again and spend nothing but the interest earned on the trust my father left me, and I’d still have more than most people do in their lifetime.
Detective Norris goes over the details with me a few more times, trying to see if there’s anything I forgot. Once she’s satisfied, she signs the report and gets my signature on it, too.
Then she hands me her card. “Call if you need anything. We’ll call you if anything turns up.” I know the odds are minuscule of them ever finding the person, but it’s important to report these things anyway. If anything, if there’s a pattern of this man showing up at the park, it might keep the person after me safer.
“Thanks for your help, Officer Norris.”
“My pleasure. And good luck to you, young man.”
I go outside and take out my phone, ready to call a car. I can’t believe it’s been more than two hours. I’m spent. I call an Uber Black. A few minutes later, Mahmoud, 4.9 stars, is right there.
“Frederick?”
“Yep. Mahmoud?”
“Yes, sir. Hop in. Water?”
Usually, I’d say no, but after two hours of talking, I realize I’m parched.
“Sure. Thanks. How’s your evening going?”
“Good. Mostly quiet, mshallah. And you?”
“Not quite as quiet.” I can see his eyes look back at me, as if there are question marks in them. “I was nearly mugged earlier.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. That’s terrible.”
“It’s fine. At least it wasn’t as bad as the blind date I had earlier. So, small blessings.”
He laughs. “I met my wife from family friends. They were pushing for us to get together, and I resisted it. But it worked out well. Still, my mother went about it like it was her full-time job.”
“Sounds a lot like my family. I swear, my mother should open a matchmaking agency considering how much she seems to enjoy it. My mom and my Uncle Theron. But I’m just not interested in the girls they throw at me.”
“Everyone has someone. It’s just a matter of meeting them. She’ll just walk into your life just like that, and that’s it.” He takes a finger off the wheel to snap for emphasis.
And then Rochelle enters my mind. I wasn’t walking so much as flailing, but still.
Not that she’s necessarily a real match for me, but we just have to convince my mother for a little bit so that she lays off me. I’m sure there’s something I could offer Rochelle to make it worth her while, and she seems like a nice girl I wouldn’t mind helping out in exchange.
I saw where she lived earlier, so I’m pretty confident she’s not exactly rolling in it. No shame in that, of course, but I have more than enough to help her out financially. If she’s a struggling musician, maybe this could work out well for both of us.
I laugh out loud.
“Hmm?”
“Sorry. I just thought of someone who might make a good wife. But it’s a little unconventional.”
The streets pass by in a blur of lights as the idea turns over and over in my mind. Just then, my phone buzzes, startling me out of my thoughts. I pull it out, seeing a text from my friend Chase.
Dinner at Per Se tomorrow?
I grin. Chase is clerking for a federal judge, too, and I love any chance I have to catch up. We were inseparable in law school.
Sounds good. Seven?
Perfect. I’m sure it will be nice to have dinner with someone other than the debutantes your mom sets you up with.
You’ll always be the belle of the ball. But actually, this is kind of crazy, but I might have thought of a way to get them off my back. I met this girl. Beautiful. Talented. Gorgeous. Maybe if I got married to someone random, they’d leave me alone. Would I be crazy?
I wait a few seconds while the dots of his texting bounce on my phone.
Yes. You would.
Immediately, the phone rings and Chase’s name appears.
“What the hell are you talking about? Are you insane?”
“Maybe. I just got jumped. Maybe I’m concussed.”
“Oh, shit, man, I’m sorry to hear that. Good thing they can’t steal entire trusts, though, am I right?”
“Ha. Ha.”
“Okay, so, what the hell is this about marriage?”
“I met this girl in the park, just an amazing woman. She helped me after the attempted mugging. But I saw her before that, playing the piano, and even then I liked her. Maybe she was dropped down at just the right moment. And then Mom and Theron could leave me alone.”
“It’s your life, but… Why don’t you sleep on it and see how you feel tomorrow? Going out on dates with society girls for Joyce is one thing. But actually marrying someone just out of spite? Come on.”
“Well, you know I can draw up a contract with the best of them.”
“That’s true. Just… Don’t do anything too crazy, okay? You don’t even know this girl.”
“I’ll feel her out. See what she thinks. Ah, shit, I’m here, give me a minute. We’ll talk later, okay?”
“Okay,” Chase says. “We’ll talk about this more tomorrow.”
I start to get out, checking the car to make sure I didn’t leave anything.
“Thanks, Mahmoud. I appreciate it.”
“Of course. And you know, trust yourself on this. I had a feeling with my wife. If you think the girl you’re talking about is someone worth knowing, no harm in trying.”
“Hey, thanks. I appreciate it.”
I close the door and give him five stars, along with a $50 tip on a $20 ride. He made my night and possibly gave me a genius idea.
“Good evening, Frederick,” the doorman says as I walk in.
“Hey, Alex. Good to see you.”
I take the elevator up to the penthouse, and I immediately jump into the shower. I’m reminded of the ordeal today when the water hits the scrape on my face and leaves a stinging sensation. Not to mention the dark purple bruises all over me. Thank God I didn’t break a rib or something.
I climb into bed, hoping for sleep but coming back to the hauntingly beautiful dark brown eyes that set wheels spinning in my mind. It’s crazy. It has to be. But maybe it’s crazy enough to work.
And who knows? Maybe getting closer to this musical mistress will unlock something else. Something neither of us will have the strength to fight for long.
The next morning, I’m up bright and early to figure out my next move. Rochelle mentioned she plays piano at Le Printemps, and I figure it’s as good a day as any to grab lunch there.
I haven’t been to Le Printemps since I went on a different disastrous date last year with the daughter of a diplomat. The place hasn’t changed.
Lush trees offset sleek metal and glass tables, with bright LED lights casting a warm glow over the room. The piano sits inside a sunken alcove, with Rochelle playing softly under more neon lighting.
She spots me as I move towards her, doing a double-take. I stand quietly, waiting for her to finish her song. When she’s done, she starts talking.“Frederick, what are you doing here?”
“Hi, Rochelle. Can I talk with you? Preferably in private?”
She glances at the bar, raising a hand. “I’m taking five, Leon,” she calls out, following me to a quiet corner.
“What’s up?” she asks as soon as we’re alone.
“You remember what I talked about with you yesterday?” I ask. “About my family? I thought of a way I could pay you back for your help while also getting them off my back in regard to my situation. I’m also an attorney, so maybe I can help with your estate issues.”
She’s silent for a while, thinking. “I don’t know. I don’t need anything. I helped you because you needed it, not because I wanted anything. And I still don’t. Anyway, I’m really busy, and I already told you I don’t want to be treated like the help.”
As she turns to leave, she throws her hair across her shoulders, narrowing her green eyes in my direction. “You can repay me by not walking into any more hazards.”