Chapter 23
“Mom, Dad?”
Adam walked into his parents’ house through the back door, following the sounds of the television to guide him to them.
He found them sitting on the love seat the way they always sat when they watched TV together.
He glanced toward the screen to find the theme song for the old church comedy Amen, featuring Sherman Hemsley, playing.
TV theme songs in the eighties and nineties hit like the newest chart topper in today’s music world.
Before he could stop, he found himself moving to the armchair on the side and singing along with Vanessa Bell Armstrong the way he did when he was a kid watching this show with his parents on a Saturday night.
When the song and opening credits were done, his dad paused the show and looked up at him.
“I’m so glad you stopped by, son.” His father pointed the remote at him to emphasize his point. “I’ve got some really good news I wanted to share with you.”
“You got an update about your leg? Is it healing well?”
Grady waved the remote in the air. “Ain’t nobody worried about this old bum leg of mine. It’ll eventually get right.”
Adam lifted a suspicious brow. That was a bold-faced lie if he’d ever heard one. Grady Henderson wasn’t a patient man on his best day. Waiting patiently for months for a broken leg to heal wasn’t remotely in his skill set.
“You remember Coach Hadley over at the university?”
Adam had a vague memory of the man trying to recruit him for the varsity basketball team even though Adam would’ve been an entering freshman.
It never ceased to amaze Adam how many corners could be cut when a coach, school, or team thought you’d bring them wins.
“A little,” Adam replied. “Why?”
Grady’s eyes widened as a broad grin simultaneously spread across his mouth.
The result was a familiar shiver spilling down Adam’s spine.
There were only two things that made his dad happy enough to smile like a giddy kid.
Adam’s mother and the possibility of securing some sort of basketball contract for Adam.
“What did you do, Dad?”
“Don’t go getting all aggravated, boy. I’m tryna do something good for you.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose, attempting to curb the anger he could feel bubbling up inside of him. If Grady was going through all these changes to talk to Adam, there was a zero percent chance that Adam was going to like what his father had to say.
“I told Coach how those people over there at the school board don’t know a good thing when they see it and how they’re jerking you around with that interim nonsense. He said there was no way a talented player like you should have to deal with that.”
Adam held up his hand. “I haven’t played professionally in fifteen years. I know ain’t no way that man is trying to recruit me. What is this about, Dad?”
“He doesn’t want you to play. He wants you to coach … to be his assistant coach to be exact. He’ll be retiring soon, and he knows having someone like you on staff will keep his program competitive in the NCAA.”
Adam stood up abruptly, pacing behind his chair to work off the excess energy that had him ready to punch something.
“I cannot believe you did this.”
“I know right?” His father’s smile widened, further indicating the man was still shit at reading his own son. “Old Grady still got it. I even negotiated a helluva salary for you too. Just wait ’til you hear the details.”
“You really are unbelievable, old man. And not in a good way. How many times do I have to tell you I don’t want anything to do with basketball. If it’s not my weekly pickup game with my boys or me showing some of my students some moves, I’m out.”
His father slammed the remote on the coffee table on the end of the love seat, causing the case to flip off and the batteries to slip out.
“You are so damn ungrateful. Here I am trying to fix the mess you’ve made of your career, getting you out of this ho-hum job with this district, and you can’t even find the decency to say thank you.”
“Dad, I’m not saying thank you because I neither asked nor wanted you to involve yourself in my professional life. Stop meddling, I don’t want this. Why can’t you understand that?”
“’Cause it don’t make no sense.”
Adam laughed out loud because his father’s response was typical Grady Henderson. Inside, however, heat burned through his chest from the inside out and all Adam wanted to do to ease the ache was explode all over his father.
He contemplated doing just that, but he saw the pleading look on his mother’s face. Her soft brown eyes were like baking soda on a grease fire, smothering the flames that were trying to consume him only seconds ago.
Exploding on his father might not be the answer. He’d grant his mother that. He wasn’t going to walk away like he usually did, though, not with his father overstepping to this magnitude.
“I chose the career I wanted. It’s education. Not basketball. Tell Coach you made a mistake. I’m not interested.”
Grady grabbed his crutch, pulling himself up from the sofa as he laid hard eyes on Adam.
Adam was no stranger to this look. It was disappointment mixed with a healthy dose of scolding that would’ve caused Adam to buckle under Grady’s will.
The familiar imaginary pressure on his shoulders that seemed to press him down into the ground leveled its weight on Adam once again.
“You never would’ve talked to me like this before you started messing with that gal.”
Adam clenched his fists as he tasted the bitterness of pent-up anger and disrespect on his tongue.
“If you’re referring to Janae, like most things when it concerns me, you’re so far off base it’s not funny.
My finally standing up to you has nothing to do with Janae.
It started when I fired you as my manager, and continued when I finally left the NBA for good and followed my passion and not yours. ”
Adam walked back the way he’d come, not stopping once to look at his parents as he did. He was done explaining himself to his father. For the first time in his life, he’d said what he’d meant and not hidden behind niceties to do it.
As he got into his car and gripped his steering wheel, he let out a loud breath and said, “That felt damn good.”
“Ma! For the umpteenth time, if you don’t stand still, I’m never gonna get this dress to fit right.”
Janae chuckled as she remembered telling James the very same thing every time she took him shopping for back-to-school clothes as a young boy.
“My how the tables have turned.”
James stared at her with amusement dancing in his eyes.
“You always tell me you’re not gonna have me looking less than in the streets reflecting bad on you.
Well”—he stepped back, crossing his arms as he locked eyes with her—“I’m not gonna have you making me look bad either.
This fashion show you and Dr. Henderson planned as part of the program fundraising events is gonna be everything.
I mean, he got real-life professional ballers to come model for us.
I refuse to let you look less than standing next to them.
No, ma’am. Not when all the nosy folks in town are buying tickets just to get a glimpse of the announced celebs. ”
He gave her a once-over, carefully inspecting the garment before he brought his eyes back up to hers.
“This gown has gotta be the perfect closing for this fashion show.”
She could see something had changed in his countenance, something that alarmed her.
“James, you’ve made dozens of costumes for yourself and your classmates over the last couple of years. Why are you so pressed about this dress?”
The intense way he looked at her made her step down off the block she was standing on and walk directly in front of him.
“James?”
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Ma, this is the first time I’m making something for you to wear, and I want it to be perfect so everyone can see you the way I do. Like a goddess.”
The way her heart stretched inside her chest, thundering against her rib cage, she should’ve been concerned about having a cardiac event. But this wasn’t her body failing. No, this was the love she felt for this child of hers taking up even more space in her soul than she’d ever thought possible.
“Boy,” she cooed, trying to get her runaway emotions under control. “Are you trying to get extra allowance money outta me?”
“Always.” He winked at her and gave her his signature grin. “But I’m also being truthful. You work so hard, Ma, put so much into me. I just want you to feel spectacular for one night.”
She instinctively opened up her arms, and he did the same. When he was a boy, she would grab him up and cuddle his whole body. Now he was the one opening up his arms, cuddling her.
“It’s my job to work hard and pour everything into you. You don’t have to reward me for that.”
He kissed the top of her head and gave her a generous squeeze. “I’m not trying to reward you. I’m trying to show you my gratitude. I want you to be the best-looking thing on that runway.”
When she stepped back to look up into his eyes, she could see the genuine happiness there and it made her heart soar. For so long she’d questioned if ending her marriage was the right thing to do.
Marq had always been a good provider who loved his son and his wife. But he’d grown up filled with so many preconceived notions about what a man should be that from the time they discovered she was pregnant, he was already deciding who and what his son would be.
When James showed no interest in most sports and wanted to dance instead, it enraged Marq.
Every time James displayed interest in anything that Marq considered remotely feminine, including James’ growing interest in clothing design, a huge fight would ensue.
She was always able to overlook it until the fateful night James came to them looking more terrified than any ten-year-old should ever be as he asked them to sign his permission slip for sewing classes.