Chapter Three
By 5:30 P.M. Jerome still hadn’t heard from Renee. She had been on the West Coast attending a leadership conference for the last three days. The hotel she worked for had recently merged with another large chain, and as one of the executive managers and a valued employee for many years, she had been doing a lot of traveling. Jerome often joked that she was only a step away from becoming president.
Renee’s flight landed at 9:30 A.M., but she had little time to talk. From the airport, she rushed off to a meeting in Schaumburg and then to another in the Downtown hotel. If it had been Jerome, he would have cancelled the meetings and gone straight home from the airport. But not Renee. That woman would work twenty-four hours a day if she could.
Jerome didn’t know how Renee could sit in meetings every day. Meetings bored him. He preferred hands-on projects and interacting with several people throughout the day. As a supervisor of four employees in the community relations division of a professional basketball team, he did just that.
An athlete by nature, Jerome’s dreams of playing basketball were shattered when he damaged his knee in high school. Not interested in much else, after he and Renee married, Jerome toyed with many temporary jobs to help take care of his family. It wasn’t until he ended an extramarital affair and surrendered to God that he was offered a job compatible with his talents. Jerome believed the job was God’s gift for making amends with his wife.
Jerome responded to his last email for the day and logged off the computer. From the corner of his eye, he noticed a pair of long, slender legs in the doorway, legs that undeniably belonged to Melanie, his boss’s twenty-nine-year-old assistant. She’d been making frequent trips to his office in the past month, and quite frankly, it made him nervous.
“Hey, Thomas.” Melanie always addressed Jerome by his last name. “Renee back in town?” she asked and leaned against the door, the split in her mid-length skirt showing even more of her skin.
Jerome’s eyes shifted from her legs to her finely sculpted face. “What’s up, Mel?” he replied. “Yes, my baby is back. New hairdo?”
Melanie invited herself inside the office. “It is.” She rubbed the tiny curls on both sides of her head. “You’re very observant. My boyfriend thinks I’m crazy for cutting it so short, but I wanted a change. You like it?”
Melanie turned around slowly, so Jerome could get a better look. Cut low and tapered in the back, it reminded him of an old Toni Braxton style. This was a big change from the long, bouncy curls she’d previously had. The new trimmed hairdo gave her a more mature and sexier appeal. Jerome wanted to compliment her, but feared she’d place a deeper meaning to his polite gesture.
Last month she came into the office wearing a tailored, bright pink jacket. It was hard for anyone not to notice. Several people made comments, so he figured it was safe to add his own. “Pink looks good on you,” he had said. That simple statement encouraged Melanie to invite him to lunch the next day. Jerome felt bad, but he had to decline. A single lunch could send mixed messages her way, and he didn’t want to risk the drama that might occur as a result.
“It’s nice,” he said after a five-second observation. Jerome quickly opened his day planner and pretended to update his schedule. Maybe Melanie would see he was busy and leave.
“Thanks,” she said and moved closer to his desk. “Mr. Usiskin wants to see you before you go home.” Melanie leaned down and picked up a framed photograph by his computer, exposing the tattooed rose above her right breast.
Jerome turned his chair to avoid staring too hard. “Should I go now, or can I go up in a few minutes? I need to call my wife,” he said, making it clear once again that he was a married man. He didn’t like the vibe Melanie was giving off. At any other time, he’d think his 53-year-old mind was overreacting. But Melanie was an attractive woman, and the proximity in which she stood made him nervous. She could’ve easily called or sent an email to deliver Mr. Usiskin’s message.
Melanie sensed his uneasiness and smiled, backing away slightly. “I don’t think you need to hurry,” she remarked slyly. “He wants to touch bases about your Future Ballers idea. I think he really likes it.”
Jerome looked up from his planner. Future Ballers was a mentoring program he’d come up with that would target high school athletes interested in pursuing careers in sports. He had learned from experience that no matter how great a player a kid was, longevity in the field was not guaranteed. Nor was there room for every gifted player in the league. Jerome had many regrets in life, one being his lack of preparation for life beyond basketball. He had seen so many young kids in that position, their lives lost because of a broken dream. It was Jerome’s mission to help children avoid the slump he had experienced when his basketball career suddenly ended. Future Ballers would not only help aspiring athletes tighten their skills, but it would also educate them on various sports-related careers off the court. As a bonus, the participants would receive instructions from some of the local professional athletes.
Had it not been for Renee’s expertise with drafting an effective proposal, Jerome’s vision would have stayed in his head.
“Great news!” he exclaimed. “I’ll be up in about ten minutes.”
Melanie put down the picture she was holding. “Your wife’s pretty. How long have you two been married?”
“We got married right out of high school. So”—Jerome hesitated to mentally compute the years; then finished his sentence—“thirty-four years.”
“Awww,” she cooed. “That’s a long time. I don’t know if I can stand to be with one person that long.”
“You’re still young,” Jerome added and shuffled some papers on his desk. “When you meet the right person, there won’t be a question about being with him for the rest of your life.”
“We’ll see about that. My boyfriend and I have been together for two months, and I already want to kick him to the curb.” Melanie ran her index finger along the top of the picture frame. “You two look like you’re still newlyweds.”
“We are,” he answered and stood up.
Melanie walked to the east corner of the office where Jerome kept a collage of old family photos: a Father’s Day gift from his daughter-in-law. “All boys, huh?” she said. “Any grandbabies yet?”
“Actually, I have two grandsons, and one very precocious and beautiful granddaughter. She’s two,” he said, beaming with pride as he took out a picture from the wallet in his back pocket. “She’s the princess of the family.”
Melanie moved back to Jerome’s side of the office and took the picture from his hand. “Isn’t she precious? I bet you spoil her rotten.”
Her chestnut-colored eyes were like a magnet, making it hard for Jerome to avoid them. “That’s why I’ve been working so hard. She takes all of my extra cash.”
She returned the picture, and her hand gently rubbed against Jerome’s. “I’m sure you’re a great grandfather. She’s lucky to have you.”
Widening the space between them, Jerome put the picture and his wallet back in place then lightly tapped the side of his leg with his forefinger. “Okay, I’ll be up after I talk to my wife. I want to catch her before she leaves her office.”
“I’ll let you go,” she replied. Melanie smoothed the hair at the nape of her neck with her palm as she headed to the door, which she closed gently behind her.
Jerome’s eyes couldn’t help but follow her body as she left. He inwardly prayed that God would forgive him as he picked up some folders from his desk and yawned. He walked to the metal file cabinet, pausing at the square mirror hanging on the side.
He was not a vain man, but he’d been told by many that he’d aged well. Thanks to his twelve-year sobriety run and Bally’s membership, he had a body many men his age envied. He rubbed his chin and nodded in approval. He had expected to be bald by fifty, like his younger brother and father, but the strands of silver mixed throughout his hair and beard showed no signs of thinning. In fact, the fullness of his hair gave him a distinguished appearance.
Many women Melanie’s age were looking for a man like him: confident, mature, and stable. And as much as he didn’t want to disappoint her, she didn’t stand a chance. She was a very attractive and tempting young lady, but Jerome knew to keep his distance. He’d be a fool to cheat on his wife again. And he feared God might not be as forgiving the second time around.
Jerome yawned again. He found it hard to fall back asleep this morning after his recurring dream. As snippets from his past replayed themselves in his head, his heart saddened. Dwelling on his life in Philadelphia did that to him every time. He rubbed his tired eyes and focused on the present. He would soon see Renee, and everything would be all right again.
Back at his desk, Jerome dialed Renee’s direct work number and was relieved when she answered.
“Hello, this is Mrs. Thomas.”
“Hey, sexy,” he replied.
“Hi, babe.” Renee’s professional tone changed into the sweet voice he loved to hear. “Are you home or at the office?”
Jerome filled his briefcase with documents he needed to review. “I’m still in the office. I’m heading out soon though. I just need to see the boss, and then I’m out the door.”
“Everything okay?” she asked.
“Everything’s fine. He wants to talk about the proposal I submitted last month.”
“I can’t wait to hear his response,” Renee replied excitedly. “I’m sure he’s going to love your brilliant idea.”
Jerome blushed. There was a time when he wouldn’t have accepted Renee’s help with anything. His pride was strong in the early years of their marriage. That’s what made this project so special. “How do you feel about Mac Arthur’s for dinner?” he asked. He knew Renee was too tired to cook after traveling across the country and working a long and busy day.
“Sounds like a plan,” she stated then pulled away from the receiver to talk to someone in her office. When she came back, she said, “All right, honey, I need to go. I can’t wait to see you.”
Renee’s words made him tingle inside. “Same here.” He closed his briefcase. “Hurry home.”
When the garage door opened, Jerome was pleased to see Renee’s ruby-colored Infiniti. He parked his Yukon next to it, leaving enough room to open his door without making a small ding on hers. Leaving his briefcase and other work documents on the backseat, he slid his body out of the truck and grabbed the two large plastic bags of food.
His hands had barely touched the knob of the door leading inside the house when it opened. Standing in the entryway was Renee dressed in a long khaki skirt and striped tank top. Even in casual clothes she exuded sophistication and sensuality. Jerome’s hormones raged at the sight of her.
“Hey, handsome.” She greeted her husband with a warm, passionate kiss.
Dinner in hand, Jerome matched her intensity as they eased into the house. Her lips still intertwined with his, he pushed the door closed behind them.
“How was the conference?” he asked when they paused for air.
“As good as conferences can be. Everett did ask if I’d be interested in playing a more active role in this merger,” Renee responded.
Jerome’s face went blank. Renee currently managed three hotels: one in Schaumburg, another in Northbrook, and a third in downtown Chicago. What more did the top players at Luxury Inn want from his wife?
“I know what you’re thinking, Jay, but Everett said everyone was impressed with my presentation.”
“Of course they’re impressed. You’re wonderful at your job.” Jerome handed Renee the bags and took off his coat. “How exactly would you help from Illinois?”
“I’d need to visit all the sites, old and new.”
“And let me guess—you’re the only candidate up for consideration.” Jerome hung his coat in the closet and then relieved Renee of one of the bags.
“Who else knows Luxury Inn better than me?”
“This merger is taking up too much extra time. How long would you be on the road?” he asked, clearly disapproving of her increased travel.
Renee pulled him close and planted a kiss on his lips. “I’m an important woman. You know I wouldn’t go if I didn’t think it was worth it.”
“You’ve been away three times already this month,” Jerome whined, unashamed that he sounded childish.
Renee stood behind her husband and massaged his temples. “This won’t be too bad. Everett and I estimated that I would be on the road off and on between six and eight months.”
“And then what?” he asked, still a bit tense.
“And then I’m back to my Illinois offices.” Renee grabbed Jerome’s arm and escorted him through the house, past the dining room and into the kitchen.
“I don’t think I like you spending so much time away from me.” Jerome placed the bags of food in the refrigerator, complaining with every movement.
Renee’s tall, dark, and handsome boss, Everett Coleman, had been training Renee for an upper management position since they moved to Illinois sixteen years ago. Everett and Renee were a magnificent team. It took years for Jerome to accept that a man and woman could work so closely and not develop deep feelings for one another. He had brought it up a few times, but because of his infidelity, it was a subject he had to tread very lightly.
Renee nibbled on Jerome’s earlobe until his frown disappeared, and he surrendered.
“But I guess I have to be supportive.” The thought of sleeping alone bothered him. It wasn’t something he wanted to become a habit. The last two nights she was away, the bedroom seemed so cold and lonely.
Renee took his hand again, and they continued through the house, pausing at the winding stairs.
Jerome kicked off his shoes, one of the many new rules he had to get used to. For over ten years, he had grown accustomed to hardwood floors. Since Renee had the upstairs carpeted, no one was allowed to set foot upstairs in outdoor shoes. The house looked fine to him the way it was, but Renee was the lady of the house, and whatever she wanted, she got.
“How was your meeting with Mr. Usiskin?”
“He loved the proposal. It looks like Future Ballers will be in schools next fall.”
“Praise God!” Renee slowly backed up the stairs, her hand still touching his arm. “So you’re the man, huh?”
Following her lead willingly, Jerome replied, “I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“It was your idea, honey. I only helped put it on paper,” she said, making Jerome blush like a teenager in love. “I’m very proud of you.”
Although Renee had always been attractive in his eyes, her beauty had become even more refined over the years. Whenever he looked at her, she made his heart leap. “We make a good team,” he said.
Renee cocked her head to the side and grinned. “Just the way God intended.”
“Do you know how much I missed you?” he asked as they entered the bedroom.
“I missed you, too,” she whispered then freed her hands from his and worked her way under the Egyptian cotton sheets she’d purchased on sale at Nordstrom.
“I’m glad you’re home,” Jerome replied. And for what felt like an eternity, he made love to his wife.
Completely satisfied and sleeping soundly, Jerome rested in Renee’s arms. He’d been in this position for an hour before his temperature rose and his body jerked. Renee stroked his arm softly, and his head twitched back and forth a few times. She rubbed the side of his face and whispered soothing words in his ear, but that only caused his heart to race faster. His moans frightened Renee, and she called his name aloud as she kneaded his back gently with her fingertips.
Jerome jumped up, heavily breathing as if he had just finished a marathon.
“Relax, honey. I’m here,” she said, but Jerome didn’t speak. “You can’t let the job stress you, Jerome,” Renee said, assuming Jerome’s new responsibility at work was the root of his panic attacks. “God wouldn’t have given you this vision if He didn’t think you could carry it out. Don’t let the devil get the best of you. Future Ballers will be a success.”
Jerome cracked a smile as Renee wiped the sweat from his forehead.
“Hungry?” she asked. When Jerome nodded, Renee rolled out of bed. “I’ll go heat up the food.”
Jerome watched the love of his life slide into her silk robe and leave the bedroom. Still sitting straight up, he waited until he heard Renee set the timer on the microwave. He rubbed his face with his hand several times and lowered himself to the side of the bed. “Lord, show me what I have to do to make this stop. I can’t go on like this much longer.”
In nothing but a ragged pair of shorts and bedroom slippers, Jerome strolled into the kitchen. The smell of fried catfish and collard greens permeated the air, and his stomach grumbled.
“I tried to wait for you,” Renee said, her mouth full of cornbread. She turned the volume down a notch on the small flat-screen television hanging from the corner of the kitchen. “But you took too long. It seems I’ve worked up an appetite.” She chuckled and continued to eat as she listened to the news on CNN. “Your plate is in the microwave. Just hit the start button.”
As Jerome waited for his food to warm, he gazed out the window. Thanksgiving was only a month away. Soon the city would transform from its comfortable autumn weather to a brisk and windy winter. He wasn’t looking forward to snow-covered streets and icy roads. He especially wasn’t excited about shoveling his driveway and sidewalk. It was great exercise, but not the kind he liked, especially since he and Renee had moved into a bigger home.
About six years ago, Renee had convinced Jerome to leave their cozy Oak Park townhouse and move to River Forest, a neighboring suburb. There was nothing wrong with their townhouse in Oak Park; Renee just wanted something larger, a place for the grandchildren to enjoy. Thanks to their middle son and Jerome’s namesake, they had three grandchildren, including a six-month-old baby.
When Jerome Jr. was in high school, Renee was constantly on his case about the number of girls he dated. Every time he brought home a new female, she hinted that he’d inherited his love for women from his father. There was little surprise when Jerome Jr. announced that his “friend,” Grace, was pregnant during his third year of college.
The grandchildren came by frequently, but not enough to justify the larger rooms in the house, the extra bedrooms, or the miniature playground installed in the backyard. It also didn’t justify the need for all the extra closets to store things they should have sold or given to charity. In Jerome’s opinion, they were content in the smaller home.
A cool draft chilled Jerome’s leg, and he shivered. He looked around for the source and noticed that the patio door was slightly ajar. Before he could ask why, Renee said, “I’m having a private summer.”
Jerome knew not to respond. Renee recently entered menopause, and even though he was hardly dressed and cold, he was sensitive to his wife’s changing hormones.
The microwave timer beeped, and Jerome removed his steaming food. He sat at the table and blessed his food quickly, concentrating on his dinner and not the cold coming through the door. But five minutes into the meal, Jerome put his fork down and rubbed his hands together vigorously.
Renee looked at him and chuckled. “I know you’re cold, Jay,” she said apologetically, finishing the last of her candied yams, “but I’m burning up!”
“It’s okay, babe. I’ll go put more clothes on.” Jerome excused himself from the table and walked to a rarely used closet by the stairs in the hallway. There were years of clothes inside, but he searched the back and came across an old, long wool coat. It was silly wearing a coat inside the house, but Renee’s comfort was his priority tonight.
Renee was pouring another glass of homemade iced tea when she noticed her husband’s new outfit and almost dropped the pitcher. “You look like a flasher,” she joked.
And in typical flasher character, Jerome snatched the coat open and wiggled his middle.
Renee shook her head and laughed out loud. “The doctor says it’ll take some time for me to adjust. In the meantime, I hope I can handle this without making you too miserable.”
The front door opened, and Jerome tried to button his coat quickly in case Joshua, their youngest son, brought home a friend. “No worries. I can handle a little cold. We do live in Chicago,” he said, reclaiming his seat.
Joshua entered the kitchen alone and dropped his bag by the kitchen table. “What’s good?” he asked, more in reference to the food. “I hope you saved a little something for me. All I see are empty containers.” He kissed his mother on the cheek and gave Jerome the “one” head nod. “I won’t even ask,” he said, referring to his father’s attire.
“You’re on your own, working man,” Jerome replied. “You should’ve stopped at Wendy’s before you came home.”
“You can have what’s left of mine,” Renee offered. “The leftovers are in the fridge.” Out of all her children, Joshua was the unspoken favorite. Unlike the older boys, he was easier to raise, a testament to the maturity and happiness in their marriage at that time.
“Thanks, Mom,” Joshua said and headed directly to the refrigerator.
Tall and muscular like Jerome had been at that age, Joshua acted more like his mother. He was interested in business and had dreams of becoming a CPA for one of the top five firms in the country. He was on his way, too. Joshua was the youngest student selected from his high school to participate in an internship at ComEd, an electric company that serviced most of Illinois.
Joshua piled the leftover food onto a paper plate and put it in the microwave. “It’s like an Arctic blast in here,” he commented then looked at his father. “Mom hot again?”
Both he and Jerome tried to contain their laughter.
“If you were a woman, you’d understand. This is no joking matter.” Renee sat her glass on the counter then closed the patio door. She changed the thermometer on the wall and popped Jerome on the back of his head. “Sometimes I wish God would’ve blessed me with a daughter.”
“It’s not too late to try,” Joshua joked.
Renee cut her eyes his way. “Again, if you were a woman, you’d understand why that isn’t funny.”
Joshua leaned against the counter with his hot plate in hand and started to eat. “You know I’m just kidding.”
“You’re not funny.” Renee took her plate from the table and dumped it inside the trashcan. “And take a seat. It’s not good for you to stand up and eat.”
Normally, Jerome would join in by adding a few comedic lines, but this time, he couldn’t. Thoughts of Taylor and their love child crossed his mind. To avoid eye contact, he pretended to be more interested in the developing news story on the television.
Joshua’s cell phone rang before he sat down next to his father. “I gotta get this,” he said after checking the screen, then rushed into the family room.
“You need to get more sleep. Have you seen the dark circles beneath your eyes?” Renee said as she walked to a section of the kitchen she used as her office. This was one of three spaces in the house she designated as her business space.
Jerome feared that she’d soon convert a portion of every room in the house to accommodate her business needs. He considered telling Renee the truth behind his restlessness, but decided against it almost as quickly as the thought entered his mind.
Renee hit a button on her laptop, and the black screen was replaced with a Hawaiian screensaver. “Reggie called me at work today,” she said, using the wireless mouse to navigate through electronic files.
Jerome scratched the back of his leg. The wool was beginning to irritate his skin. “Oh yeah? What’s new with him?”
“He was offered a job in New York,” she said, displeasure in her voice.
Jerome removed his coat and put it on the back of his chair. “Is that a bad thing? We knew he’d be looking around after he graduated from med school.”
“Of course it is. New York is big and busy, and a little too aggressive for my taste. It’s not a place to raise my future grandbabies.”
“You don’t want your son to leave the nest,” Jerome said. “Reggie will be fine. In case you haven’t noticed, he isn’t a little boy anymore. He’s a grown, married man.”
Renee pulled her personal mini fan from one of the drawers in her desk. “I’m proud of him.” She flipped on the power switch. “I just don’t want him to live in New York.”
Reggie, their oldest son, was a doctor, specializing in sports medicine. His career choice came as a shock to everyone. In high school, his grades were average and his effort mediocre. Renee and Jerome doubted he’d ever go to college, much less graduate with a medical degree.
Jerome believed Zora, Reggie’s wife, had played a major role in his shift in attitude. Career-focused, Zora received her doctorate by the age of twenty-five, and was currently an English professor at DePaul University. Reggie and Zora had met in junior high school, much like Jerome and Renee, and had struggled through some similar challenges. It’s funny how children sometimes follow in their parents’ footsteps without even trying.
“What’s wrong with the job he has?” Renee got out of her chair and moved closer to Jerome, the wind from her fan chilling his neck. “Can’t you pull some strings? Maybe he could be a doctor for the Bulls or even the Bears. You have football connections, don’t you?”
Jerome splashed hot sauce on his greens. “Renee, if Reggie wants to work for the Bulls, he knows all he has to do is ask. We can always fly to New York. This is a good thing, babe. Be happy for him,” he said as he gulped down the mushy vegetables.
“I told Zora they shouldn’t go. It’s time for them to think about having kids,” she said and paused. “She might be a tad upset about my comment.”
“I told you to stop meddling.” Jerome devoured another mouthful of greens. Juice dripped from the side of his mouth, and he used the back of his hand to wipe it away. “Zora is in her early thirties. I don’t know why you keep pressuring her. She has plenty of time to have children.”
“I know. It was probably her idea they move, anyway.”
“You didn’t say that to her, did you?” Jerome asked.
Renee looked away.
“I thought you liked Zora.”
“You know I love her. She’s like a real daughter to me, but . . .” Renee’s voice trailed as she turned off the fan and put it back. “All of Reggie’s family is here. Why can’t she be more like Junior’s wife?”
Jerome scraped his plate clean then got up from his seat to stand next to his better half. “I thought Grace wasn’t good enough for Junior.”
Jerome believed his middle son married Grace because of Renee. Although Renee was not in favor of Jerome Jr. marrying so young, she refused to have her grandchild born out of wedlock. Never wanting to disappoint his mother, Jerome Jr. agreed to marry Grace before she started to show. Renee meant well, but at times she came off too strong. She was used to being in control at work and, from time to time, had to be reminded that she couldn’t control her family the same way.
Renee looked at Jerome sideways. “That’s not the point. Whose side are you on?”
“Then what is the point?” he asked, all the while thinking that Renee was cute and sexy when she “played” mad.
“Grace is from Chicago. Of course she wants to stay here. You forget that Zora moved to Chicago for Reggie. She’s been away from her family for a long time. I’m sure she’s eager to get back East.”
“Well, I may have overreacted slightly,” Renee huffed.
Jerome said nothing. He kissed her forehead instead, and her light perspiration moistened his lips.
“I know you don’t want Zora to take Reggie to Philly for Thanksgiving this year, do you? If you keep pushing, they’ll be there with her family.”
Renee thought about her options. “I’ll try to behave.” She sighed. “I’ll apologize in the morning.”
Jerome made himself a glass of lemon water. “Ready for dessert?”
“You still have room?” Renee questioned. Jerome had eaten every bit of his catfish platter, his plate practically licked clean.
He opened the refrigerator and pulled out a small Styrofoam cup. Mac Arthur’s had the best banana pudding on the west side of town. He took a clean spoon from the silverware tray and offered a scoopful to his wife.
“No, thanks. Dinner put enough pounds on me.”
“You don’t hear me complaining.”
Renee pinched Jerome’s arm playfully and then licked half of the pudding off the spoon.
Jerome tried to give her more.
“That’s enough, Jay,” she said and backed away. “I’m going to burst if I eat one more bite.”
“Had enough of me, too?” Jerome mischievously asked, and Renee batted her eyes at him. God, I love this woman. “Meet me upstairs in five minutes.”