become ten years, now nineteen years old, and still I could not remember its passing, as much as it seemed a blur anyway. He pulled out the stool next to me and sat down. Then he filled my glass one-quarter full with wine.
âHowâs school going? âBout time for midterm grades, right?â I took a sip of wine.
âI donât get midterm grades. I mean, unless Iâm doing bad. You havenât gotten any notices, Iâm taking care of business. Only students who are failing get midterm grades, notices, whatever.â
âWell, I havenât gotten any notices.â
âExactly.â
âYou know what happens if you donât take care of business.â
âNo. What?â
âDonât mess with me, boy.â
He hesitated, then asked, âLaughton working on any new projects up in here?â
âI told you not to mess with me, boy,â I said, punching him in his shoulder.
âI got your boy, alright.â
âSorry. Donât mess with me, man.â I waited for whatever was coming, but not for long.
âSome of the guys are cruisinâ up to New York this weekend. Weâre going to stay at Samâs auntâs place in Queens. Samâs moms is driving us. You know Samâs moms. Sheâs a sociology professor at Chestnut Hill College. Weâre gonna catch Patrice in Rent , an off-off-Broadway number.â
âWhoâs Patrice?â
âSamâs sister. Girl is a sexy . . .â The sudden remembrance that he was talking to his mother, not one of his boys, brightened his face. I gave him my sideways look, the one I inherited from Mom that had immobilized me whenever I had carried a moment too far.
âIâm saying sheâs dope. You know she went to New York after high school. Her moms was pissed that she skipped college. Moms is cool with it now, though, cuz girlfriend is doing it.â
âShareen.â
âWhat?â
âSamâs motherâs name. Nice lady.â I took a sip and savored the crisp semisweet flavor of melons, citrus, and dried herbs that made Massayaâs Classic White one of my favorites. For a moment, I closed my eyes and went away.
âShe says the same about you, then goes into how you helped her father beat some kinda altercation with the po po. Heard it a hundred times at least, but she never gives us the scoop, just that you helped her out, end of story.â Travis pulled a box of Carrâs water crackers from the cupboard and Brie from the fridge.
I smiled. âSome things are better left where they lie.â
âYou arenât going to fill me in? Thatâs cold, Ma.â He stood beside me at the counter and methodically placed water crackers in a circle on a saucer and slices of cheese in the center, then set the saucer in front of me. I scooped up a cracker as he slid into the stool across the counter from me.
âPolice business, end of story.â
I remembered Shareenâs father had been stopped while driving erratically down I-95. Police found an unregistered. 38 pistol under the car seat. I called in a few favors, kept him out of jail.
âGood explanation at ten. Iâm a man now.â He punched his chest once with both fists, King Kongâlike, groaned, and fell forward ending with his head on the counter.
I patted his tousled hair. âA haircut and a shave would do you good.â
âYeah,â he said, sitting up, âSo can I go?â
He badgered me until I agreed, then left to hang out with his friends.
My muscles resisted the hot water. I got out of the shower as strained as I entered, my fingertips wrinkled and mushy. I wiped the mirror and studied my reflection. âHeâll be fine. âBout time you gave the boy some room to move,â I said out loud. Poor Travis had endured my overprotective antics all of his life without protest, mostly. He was nineteen and a freshman in college and I still treated him