“So you think you’re slick, huh, Troy?” she said. “You think this is going to stop me? This little show? Well, you, no, the both of you, just wait until I go before the board of trustees.”
“There’s no need for that,” Kyle said unaffectedly. “I already called a meeting with the trustees to discuss my wife’s charges on the credit card. So…basically…you can shove it!” Troy pushed Myrtle’s foot out of the way of the door and Kyle closed it a little more before saying, “But we will see you at church. First Baptist is a place for saints and sinners.”
When the door was closed and Myrtle was left outside looking bad and sad, Kyle and Troy stayed together, laughing as they headed toward the kitchen.
“Shove it?” Troy joked. “I can’t believe you said that!”
“I’m not exactly a cursing man. I don’t have a whole list of foul words at my disposal,” Kyle said.
“And what about that thing about having called the board of trustees? You couldn’t have done that. I just told you about the credit card.”
Kyle smiled.
“You lied, Pastor?” Troy said, shocked. “I can’t believe it!”
“It wasn’t a lie,” Kyle said. “I’m going to call them right now. And you, my darling, can go and heat up my Chinese dinner. A brother is starving.”
?
Working late, overtime, aftertime, and/or extra hours was never an issue for Tamia. Even in elementary school, she’d ask her teacher if she could stay behind in the classroom and study or complete her project after the other students jumped up and hustled out of the classroom like fire, death, and destruction were imminent if they didn’t make it to their school buses in the next three seconds.
While any person who knew her would easily affix this desire to Tamia’s commitment, it was more than that. Working after-hours, working late, gave Tamia more than an edge over the competition. It also gave her vision, understanding, a chance to meditate with her work and consider what her next move might be. When all the other workers had gone home, she could sit in her space and listen to the hum of the vacuum cleaners of the cleaning crew, look out over the empty cubicles, full of ideas, see the expansive hallways and staircases, and smell the leftover bagels in the break room and see her world in a new way.
Most days, this new way meant something good. But these days in Tamia’s life weren’t like most. And just a few atypical days after her distressing meeting with Baba and Malik, as Tamia sat in her office putting the final touches on Malik’s case, working late was turning into something bad, something dark, something finite.
Simply put, though the vacuum cleaner was humming, though she could see the papers and reminders and ideas and contracts feathered out over Naudia’s desk like a deck of Vegas cards, though the hallways and staircases were empty, and though there was the smell of bagels—no, muffins—in the break room, something was different. Something had changed. Whatever fire, whatever connection Tamia had
that connected her to her work, to her workplace, seemed less glittery, less inviting than it had just months before. She didn’t believe. After accepting and planning her idea to lose Malik’s case, she thought about how many times this must’ve happened to other people, at other times, within the very walls she was walking. And if that was true, if the law she’d dedicated her life to came down to one man’s mortal decision—if a client was being honest, a lawyer committed, a judge, jury, and justice system free of the burdens of life—then what was she doing? It was all chance. One bad law written by one racist person could put a person away for life. This wasn’t justice. This was cloak and dagger. A magic show. A pipe dream sold from the powerful to the powerless. What place could she possibly have in all of it?
“Working late?” a voice called from Tamia’s office door. She looked up to see Charleston standing there in a track suit.
She smiled cordially.
“Yes. Going to court in the morning.”
Charleston didn’t ask. He came in and sat down.
“Yeah, I know,” he said. “I figured I’d be able to catch you. Since I can’t seem to get you any other way.”
Tamia didn’t say anything. Charleston’s words only presented opportunities for lies or excuses.
“It’s been over a month.” He said, taking another jab. “Two—going on. I haven’t seen my girlfriend. We work in the same building. You’d think that’s impossible.” Yeah, it was pretty impossible for most people, but Charleston had always been good at keeping himself busy. He only thought of Tamia when he wondered what might be keeping her busy.
“Well, I guess you should know,” Tamia said. “Your bank account should be about $30K richer. I got the notice from the bank. Thanks for letting me know you weren’t paying anymore.”
“All you had to do was call me and I would’ve given you the money.”
“Charleston, I didn’t ask you to pay my mortgage. You offered. I was moving somewhere else and you insisted I move into that building. And you insisted that you pay the mortgage.”
“And you didn’t want it?” Charleston snickered evilly. “Before you became…this”—he pointed at her clothes, her hair—“you were all about that shit. High class. Everything a 10. You wanted what you deserved. You wanted me to give it to you. And now I’m the bad guy because I don’t want to pay for your dream. What is your dream now anyway?”
“You don’t need to worry about my dream,” Tamia said. “Maybe you should worry about Phae’s dreams—”
“Whoa—”
“Yeah, I know about that. Maybe you should worry about her dreams and half of the other women you’ve been fucking in this city. I never said you had to pay for anything, but you know what you promised me and you know what you owe me. If you wanted to back out of the mortgage, that’s fine, but give me time. Don’t treat me like one of those tricks you trick off.”
Charleston wasn’t so sure he knew or understood the Tamia sitting on the other side of the desk. He knew she was strong. He knew she was smart, but this woman was coming back at him in a way that made him think maybe that was why he needed to be with one of those white girls she was calling “tricks.” Maybe they could respect and accept a man like him. In charge. He didn’t need Tamia and her shit. He could call any one of them right then and tell them to step out on the men they’d married and come be with him. And that’s when he thought about it—they were all married.