“Whoa, chick! You’re sure going to have to talk about him later…and her. That was way too much information to leave me hanging. But I can wait a minute, and in the meantime change the subject to somebody you can talk about…Adam ‘oh, oh, oh, oh’ Johnson!”
“Chantay, you are too silly! I haven’t thought about that line since we left high school.” Gwen, Chantay, and a couple other misfits used to substitute his first name in Ready for the World’s hit, “Oh Sheila.” Chantay would hum it as he passed in the halls and the other girls would break into hysterical laughter, making them all look like fools.
“That is the single welcome surprise I’ve had these past few weeks—that Adam is the principal at Sienna. Can you believe it?” Gwen said.
“No, because I never thought a brothah with that much weight in his lower head would have any brains in his upper one.”
“Well, there’s that, but even more the fact that he’s back living in our hometown. After being such a standout at Texas A&M and going on to play for the Cowboys? I guess a lot happened to him since he was sidelined with an injury and forced to retire early.”
“I can’t believe his wife would agree to move back to such a podunk town. She looks too hoity-toity for Smallville, but I only saw her one time on TV,” Chantay said.
“They’re divorced.”
“What? Girl, stop!”
“Yep, he told me that when we talked. He was nice actually, not the cocky, arrogant Adam I remember. He wouldn’t admit it, but I know he’s the reason why my getting this post is, to use his words, ‘in the bag.’”
“Don’t give him too much credit, Gwen. You’re a first-rate teacher, and it’s not like our town has to beat off qualified educators with sticks.”
“Maybe, but the way everything happened…I’m just happy to know I have a job secured, or at least I will after my interview next week. Mama has some money saved up but that’s all going into her assisted living expenses. I still need to support myself, and pay half the mortgage on the condo until it’s sold.”
“How’s Miss Lorraine doing?”
Gwen shrugged. “Mama’s about the same, I guess.”
“Isn’t she a bit young for what the doctors say is happening to her?”
“From what I’ve learned, not really. The disease usually comes with aging, but can actually occur at any time, from a variety of causes. It’s usually given a different name when it occurs in someone, say, under fifty-five. But whatever the title, the results are the same—a long-term decline in cognitive function.”
“Just be glad she’s still here,” Chantay replied. “You can always hug her, whether she knows you or not.”
“Oh, she recognizes everybody, and remembers more than she lets on, I’m thinking. But I hear what you’re saying, Chantay, and I’m grateful.”
They were silent a moment before Chantay changed the subject. “Joe’s a lowlife. He could have stayed in the condo and split the rent with the fool he’s sleeping with until somebody bought it. He’s just an asshole.”
“That would have been too much like right. But it is what it is. Don’t get me re-pissed about it.”
Chantay started humming “Oh Sheila.” “Wouldn’t it be ironic if you moved back to town and snagged its star player after all these years? Now, we’ll have to give your dated butt a makeover, but by the time I’m done with you…you’ll move over all those other silicone-stuffed heifas in town.”
“I wonder who else from our class still lives there.”
“Girl, it don’t even matter. Keep your eye on the prize.” Chantay shot another sideways look at her friend. “Um-hmm. If it’s Adam Johnson you want—trust, I can help you get him.”
Gwen had thought about Adam, and what a nice balm he might be for the hurt Joe had caused her. Not that she’d get into anything serious right away. It would be months before the divorce came up on the backlogged Illinois court docket and was finalized. But since speaking to Adam, she’d fantasized a time or two about the heartthrob she remembered: tall, lanky, chocolate, strong, with bedroom eyes and a Jheri curl that brushed his shoulders. She never dreamed she’d get another chance with someone like Adam. But as she’d learned all too painfully in the past few months—life was full of surprises.
2
Ransom Noel Blake stretched six feet and three inches of caramel sweetness out on a canvas lounge chair, covered only by a loose-fitting pair of white swim trunks. His coal black hair, which unbound neared his waist, was pulled back in a loose ponytail, providing an unobstructed view of his thick, naturally arched eyebrows, Iroquoian cheekbones, tapered nose, and cupid-shaped lips. He reached up to flick an annoying insect away from his face, and his perfectly cut abdomen rippled with the movement. It was ninety-five degrees and climbing in the desert, but not only did Ransom have a high tolerance level for the sun’s baking rays, he was also, quite simply, too tired to care.
But he was pleased. His firm, Blake Construction, had come in on time and under budget on their latest project. This fact was all the more satisfying because of how his half brother, Adam, had tried to thwart his bid and when that failed, to throw wrenches in their progress at every turn. But Ransom’s crew was smart and their boss was smarter. When the first recess bell rang for the children of Sienna Elementary School’s new school year, they’d run out and play on a brand new, state-of-the-art playground or in an equally impressive indoor gym and game center, courtesy of Ransom and company.
The melodic tone from his iPhone interrupted Ransom’s musings. He reached for it lazily. “Blake.”
“You’re probably not expecting congratulations from me.”
“Adam.”
“I know I was a pain in the ass sometimes, but the job looks great.”
Ransom opened his eyes and sat up in the chair. “Okay, brother, what do you want?”
Adam chuckled. “Why does it have to be like that?”
“It doesn’t, but that’s how it is.”
Adam couldn’t deny that his half brother was right. Fifteen years his junior, Ransom had attributes Adam no longer possessed, if he ever did. He’d left for college when Ransom was a toddler, and they’d never developed a close relationship. Add to that what Adam viewed as preferential treatment of Ransom by their mother, Ransom’s small yet successful business and easy way with women, and Adam’s competitiveness—and there was little room left for brotherly love.
“Okay, little brother, I was calling for a favor,” Adam admitted.
“Uh-huh.”
“I was wondering if I could handle the Porsche for a couple of days.”
“What’s wrong with your car?”
“Nothing. I’m just, you know, wanting to impress a certain female.”
Ransom suppressed
