else. One more step in starting over.
One by one, Millicent brought her suitcases inside. Once they were in, she closed the door and again looked around. She walked into the kitchen, the dining room. She walked to the bathroom and stopped. This had been one of her favorite places, a bit harder to face now. So many dreams she’d created while soaking in the Jacuzzi tub, dreams that had floated away, disappeared down the drain, like the bathwater. Before the tears could gather, she walked briskly back into her bedroom, picked up the briefcase containing her laptop, and walked to the desk. Stay focused, Millicent. Guard your thoughts. Millicent sat and redirected her energy to preparing the condo for its new owner, looking at the potential homes Jenny had selected for her, and drafting a marketing outline for her new boss. The time for dreams was gone. With steely resolve, Millicent focused on her reality.
4
That’s What Friends Are For
Vivian Montgomery waited at the predesignated meeting point, tapping her foot impatiently. Her children, nine-year-old Derrick Jr. and his seven-year-old sister, Elisia, were getting perilously close to failing their lesson on responsibility. She’d clearly told them to meet her by the Starbucks in Barnes & Noble in exactly one hour, and she’d made sure her and her son’s cell phone alarms were set. The children were young, but she liked to loosen the reins every now and then, give them some independence. Plus, their neighbor’s son, Chris, was with them, and he was eleven. She felt okay with them on their own at the Westside Pavilion, but one more minute, and—
“Hello? Yes, you’d better be on your way. I didn’t tell you to call me in an hour, I told you to meet me in an hour. Bye.” Letting out the worried breath she’d refused to acknowledge she’d been holding, Vivian strolled down the aisles, casually scanning the book covers. Just as she heard Elisia’s high-pitched laugh, she glimpsed the store’s CD section.
“I told them, Mama, I told them to come on,” Elisia said as she ran to Vivian.
“No, she didn’t. She was too busy playing to even listen to me tell her it was time to go,” D-2 countered.
“Uh-uh. I told you, I said let’s go ’cause Mama said one hour—”
“You a lie! You—”
“Enough,” Vivian said in a low tone that brooked no argument. “Both of you were irresponsible. You need to understand that a big part of responsibility,” she said, dragging out the word for emphasis, “is being able to follow through when a direction is given. Especially when it’s your mama’s direction, and especially when that one direction may determine whether you get to follow through on any further such directions.”
Silence.
“Now, calling was good, Derrick; it let me know that you were all right. But being where I told you when I told you would have been better.” She looked at Chris, who’d become extremely preoccupied with the pattern on the floor. “And what do you have to say, young man? You’re the oldest of this bunch.”
“Uh, I was so busy making sure no one bothered Elisia that I, uh, lost track of time.”
“I see,” Vivian said with exaggerated slowness. “You got some oceanfront property in Nevada you want to sell me, too?”
“Ma’am?”
So now he was going to act like he was deaf or confused. “You heard me,” she said seriously, while mussing his curly dark hair. “Come on, let’s go look at CDs. I need to get some music.”
Vivian reached the CD aisle and began to browse.
“Mama, can we go look at our music?”
“Yes, D-2. Elisia, stay with me.” She walked over to the R & B section, looking for the artist Tai had babbled nonstop about since his debut years earlier. He sounds like Al Jarreau, but with his own style. And he’s a Hershey, honey…. One thing about Tai, she’d never let the fact that she was first lady of a large Baptist church get in the way of her love for R & B.
Vivian quickly found the CDs Tai had recommended, Kemistry and Album II, then strolled further, stopping at the oldies compilations. “Do you think Aunt Tai will like some oldies music, Lis?”
“Yes. She always listens to that old stuff.”
Vivian smiled, remembering when she thought people in their thirties and forties were ancient. Now, nearing forty, she knew they were barely middle-aged.
Vivian had just reached for an “80s Gold” anthology when her cell phone rang…. “Hello?”
“You’re not going to believe who’s back in town,” Tai said without a greeting.
Vivian didn’t answer immediately. From the sound of Tai’s voice, whoever it was wasn’t someone she welcomed. Vivian asked anyway, not knowing if she wanted to hear the answer. “Who?”
“Tootie.”
“Tootie?” Would the drama never end? Tai and King’s marriage had just gotten back on track following King’s last infidelity. And now Tootie, his schoolboy crush, was back in town? Vivian motioned to the boys and headed to the counter, Elisia following her. “Look, I’m in a store. Let me call you when I get to the car.”
“As soon as you can,” Tai said, exasperated.
“On second thought, I’ve got the kids. I’ll call when I get home.”
Vivian tried to remain calm as she waited in line. No need to get upset before hearing the details. But what did Tai know that had upset her so? Then again, just the mention of Rita “Tootie” Smith’s name could be enough.
Vivian was thankful for the kids’ mindless chatter on the way home. That and the smooth sounds of the newly purchased Kem CD she’d placed in the stereo before starting the car. She only half listened, however, her mind wandering from thoughts of Tai to the Sanctity of Sisterhood seminars she’d been moderating. Thankfully, traffic was light and soon she was turning into her driveway.
The tires had barely stopped rolling before the kids rushed out of the car. Kathy, Chris’s mom, was just running by, at the end of her afternoon jog. Chris ran up and showed her his namesake Chris Brown CD.
“Yes, Kathy, you can thank me for the noise you’ll hear later,” Vivian said as her neighbor trotted up the drive. “It’s the radio-edit version, but you still might want to have a listen.”
“Gee, Viv, thanks a lot. I really needed to hear more hippity-hop in my house.”
“Hip-hop, Mom,” Chris groaned, the expected reaction and exact reason his mother had mispronounced the term.
“Hey, man, let’s ball,” D-2 suggested, inviting himself over to the half-court basketball asphalt in Chris’s backyard. He and Chris began walking toward the Winters’ home.
“Derrick, don’t lose that CD I just bought you,” Vivian directed at his back.
“You can lose yours, Chris,” Kathy added. Both women laughed. “See you later, Viv.”
Vivian ejected the Kem CD, placed it in its case, and retrieved the shopping bags. Once inside her home, she put down her purchases and
