Chapter Fifteen
After a hearty Thanksgiving Day dinner, Jerome napped on the couch in the family room. He was supposed to be watching his grandchildren while their mothers were cleaning up the kitchen. But after ten minutes of spinning them in circles, he had fallen dizzy himself and needed a break. Thankfully, Joshua was standing by to relieve him. Tired from all the energy he’d burned the day before and early this morning getting the house ready, it didn’t take long for him to drift off to sleep. Nor did it take long for a new dream to begin.
Wearing an old basketball uniform, Jerome moved back and forth trying to get attention. He was wide open and ready to take a shot. Waving his arms up and down, he didn’t understand why no one would pass him the ball. He tried clapping, but no one flocked to him. Out of nowhere, Joi ran down the court, a number of opponents around her, making it difficult for her to shoot the ball.
“Joi, toss me the ball,” Jerome yelled.
Joi stopped, dribbling the ball in slow motion.
“Joi,” he repeated, “toss me the ball!”
“I can’t,” she uttered.
Confused, Jerome stopped pacing the court and asked, “Why not?”
“I can’t depend on you to take the ball to the hoop,” she said. Joi dribbled around him and went for the basket, despite the number of people guarding her. “I can’t depend on you,” she said as the ball flew through the hoop.
Jerome jumped up and looked around the room. Renee and his daughters-in-law were still in the kitchen, and his sons were in the basement playing with the Wii box. Grabbing his cell from the coffee table, Jerome went into the bathroom upstairs. He searched his contact list for TB, the indentification under which he stored Taylor’s number. He hit the connect button and let the phone ring. When Taylor answered, he said, “I know I’m the last person you want to hear from, but . . . I’m ready to meet my daughter.”
Jerome stood by the window in the lobby of Houlihan’s on City Line Avenue waiting for Joi to arrive. He was twenty minutes early. The bumper-to-bumper traffic from the Philadelphia International Airport into the city was no longer as hectic as it used to be on a Friday evening. While he waited, he called in to his office to check on Melanie. She had volunteered to wrap up a few last-minute details for an upcoming meeting with their boss. She had proven to be a huge asset to getting the plans for Future Ballers underway. He was glad Mr. Usiskin offered her services. He was worried that her flirtatious manner would get in the way, but thus far he’d been able to maintain a professional relationship between them.
“Hey, Mel,” he said when she answered. “Renee will be stopping by the office to pick up some colored folders I left on my desk. She’s going to proof the budget this weekend for our meeting.”
“Aww. How sweet,” Melanie replied.
“That’s my better half,” Jerome said. Renee did not put up a big fuss when Jerome suggested he spend a weekend with his brother. She knew how much he missed his hometown. “She should be there before six. Is that okay?”
“I’ll stay until she gets here,” Melanie offered. “It’s the least I can do for a super team leader.”
Jerome saw Lance get out of his car and walk up the ramp to the restaurant. Joi trailed closely behind him. Lance had not changed much; maybe a few extra pounds and his crowning baldness. He had expected to see Taylor, but she had called to say that plans had changed.
“Wonderful. Don’t hesitate to call me if there are any problems,” Lance said to Melanie and disconnected the call.
Anxious, Jerome opened the door as they approached, letting the cool air fill the lobby, much to the chagrin of some of the waiting patrons. “This beautiful young lady must be Joi,” he said as she walked through the doors, her closed-mouthed smile saying that she too was nervous.
Joi looked back at Lance, as if asking for permission to speak. The moment had to be awkward for her.
Jerome couldn’t help himself. He reached out for Joi and hugged her. “It’s so good to finally meet you,” he said. Joi barely hugged him back. Jerome prayed it was her nerves that made her seem distant.
Jerome looked at Lance and extended his right hand. “Good to see you, man. It’s been a long time.”
“Same here,” Lance replied and shook his hand.
“Joining us for dinner? I know that Taylor couldn’t make it—”
“She got stuck at work,” Lance cut in. “I’ll have to give you a rain check. Our other kids are waiting in the car. I’m just dropping my angel off.” Lance kissed Joi on the cheek. “Your mother will come get you. Just give her a call when you’re ready.” He looked at Jerome before leaving. “Nice seeing you again. Enjoy dinner.”
Joi stared at Lance until he was in the car. Jerome didn’t know how to initiate the conversation, which was unusual. He was a social kind of guy. But he’d never been in a situation like this before. “Well,” he finally said, “let’s see about getting a table.”
Looking at Joi up close was like staring into a mirror. Her thick, perfectly arched eyebrows and long, chiseled legs were all traits she received from Jerome’s lineage. The small space between Joi’s two front teeth was the only trait that visibly connected her to Taylor.
As Jerome and Joi sat in a cozy booth, his heart wept for all the years he missed: her birth, first tooth, first walk, step, smile. He should’ve been the one to teach Joi how to ride a bike and dribble a ball. But he wasn’t. He couldn’t be.
Initially shy, Joi warmed up to Jerome by the time the waiter brought out their main entrées. Joi sat across from him and skimmed through her life as if she was on an interview detailing highlights of her basketball career and other noteworthy achievements. To his listening ear, she had a good life. Taylor and Lance had done a good job of raising her. It was hard to believe that the eloquent and soft-spoken girl before him could be capable of all Taylor had claimed.
He didn’t know her well, but he was already proud to be her father. He was proud of all his kids. God had truly blessed him. With his past, he’d expected to get double for all he had done to his parents and his wife. But they were all doing well—one a doctor, another a journalist, Joshua a future CPA, and his only daughter, a strong contender for the WNBA. Who would’ve thought? Jerome had started grooming his grandson for a future in sports, but now maybe he’d get to nurture his daughter’s career. God sure does work in mysterious ways.
The waiter came by the table and refilled the water glasses. Jerome removed a lemon wedge from a plate in the middle of the table and squeezed it into his water, something he learned from Renee. “Lemons cleanse your system,” she had said one day. Being a creature of habit, Jerome drank a big glass of lemon water after every meal. He leaned back in his seat fully satisfied. The night was coming to an end. There was still so much to learn about Joi. One dinner was not enough time.
Without being too assertive, Jerome asked about the tattoo.
Joi looked surprised. “Mother told you about that?”
Joi had called Taylor Mother all night. She explained that Taylor liked that better than Mommy or Mom. It sounded more sophisticated.
“The whole team got one,” she said. “We did it together.” The concerned parent in Jerome wanted to know where the tattoo was located. He prayed it wasn’t in a place that would attract the opposite sex.
“It’s a basketball . . . on my back,” Joi replied.
Jerome smirked. He was silently pleased to know that Joi was a team player. But it was wrong to go behind Taylor’s back. He remembered the time he let Reggie get braids at thirteen. It was cool for boys his age, but Renee had a different standard for her children. Even though Renee made Reggie take the braids out, Jerome had to listen to her whine and fuss for days.
“I won’t lecture you,” Jerome said. “I’m sure you’ve heard enough from your mother.”
Joi looked relieved. “I guess she told you about my grades, too?”
“She did,” he affirmed, and Joi picked at the vegetables on her plate. “I just have one question for you,” he said. “Do you want to go pro one day?”
“Yes, I want to be like Sheryl Swoopes,” she replied with enthusiasm.
Jerome could tell she really meant it. She was much more passionate than his sons ever were. “Well, to be better than Swoopes, you’ve got to keep those grades up.”
“I’m doing better.”
Jerome thought for a minute. “I don’t normally like to do this, but . . . what if I give you twenty dollars for every A you get on your report card?”
“Twenty dollars?”
“That’s not enough? If you get five, that’s a hundred bucks.”
“Then I guess you should put it in writing.” Joi smiled, her mouth closed, hiding the gap.
Joi was sharp and witty. Jerome liked that. “Okay, I’m going to challenge you even more. What about fifty dollars for every A in your core classes—history, math, science, and English?”
“Deal,” she agreed, and they shook hands.
For the next fifteen minutes, Jerome talked about his family in detail. He used the pictures in his wallet to familiarize her with each family member.
Joi stared at each picture carefully, especially the one of her brothers. “I wish Mother would’ve let us meet earlier,” she said.
“It wasn’t your mom that did this. Did she tell you I was married at the time?”
Joi nodded.
“I was afraid that I would lose my family if they knew. So I asked her to keep this a secret.”
Joi looked disappointed. “Does Renee know now?”
“Afraid not. But I plan to tell her in January.”
Joi was silent as she studied a picture of Renee. “She’s pretty,” she said and returned the picture.
“She is. I think you’ll like her,” he said. “Why don’t you keep the one of the boys and maybe this one of me.”
Joi giggled at Jerome’s high school photograph. He kept it in his wallet to remind him of his youth, but now it seemed appropriate for his daughter to have it.
Joi placed the pictures inside her coat pocket and shared more information about her siblings, her best friend, and her boyfriend.
“Boyfriend?” Jerome didn’t know how to handle her having a boyfriend. He didn’t believe in double standards, but he didn’t want some knuckleheaded boy messing with his daughter either. Not mentally, and especially not physically. “You have a boyfriend?”
Reluctant to answer, she said, “Mother doesn’t know yet, but yes, I do.”
“I’d like to meet him.” Jerome wanted to see the boy that won his daughter’s heart. “Why don’t you invite him out to play a game or two tomorrow. Me and him against you and Rayven. Is he any good?”
Joi laughed. “Markus can play a little, but he isn’t in town. He went to New York with his roommate this weekend. He won’t be back until . . .” Joi stopped mid-sentence and bit her bottom lip.
“He has a roommate?” Jerome asked. “How old is this boy, Joi?”
Joi didn’t say anything.
“Is he not in school?” Jerome continued to query, his tone now more serious. He didn’t want to scare or frighten Joi in any way, but she was too young to have a boyfriend out of school. “Exactly how much older is he?”
“Let’s just forget about it. You’re only gonna run and tell Mother.”
Jerome could see the attitude now. Joi’s eyes rolled, and her body language changed. “I won’t tell her, but that means you have to be honest with me.” Jerome wished he hadn’t said that, but it was the only way to gain her trust, and he needed Joi to open up.
They sat across from one another in silence, Joi calculating her risks, Jerome trying to maintain his cool.
“He’s a sophomore in college,” she mumbled.
Jerome dropped his hands heavily on the table. “I have to be honest with you. I’m not keen on a college boyfriend. No wonder you haven’t told Taylor. She would crush both you and the boy.”
Jerome figured this was the reason for the recent string of behaviors Taylor had been complaining about. If the boy could affect her grades and performance in school, then he might eventually affect her game. Jerome wasn’t going to sit by idly and let that happen. “I hope he . . . Markus, doesn’t interfere with basketball. Relationships can do that.”
Joi gave Jerome the same look Taylor used to whenever he asked something she didn’t want to discuss. “Nothing is going to get in the way of basketball, Jerome. You don’t know this, but I am serious about my game.”
Being called by his first name was not Jerome’s choice, but he allowed it. That was the price he had to pay for abandoning her.
Joi added, “I’m not going to put my spot on the team in jeopardy for anyone.”
“He’s a little old for you, don’t you think?”
Joi finished the last of her mustard-encrusted salmon fillet then threw her fork on her plate. “You can’t just walk into my life for the first time and tell me what’s good and bad for me. You don’t even know me.”
“Hold on, Joi. I used to be Markus’s age. I’m not saying he’s anything like I was, but at his age, many boys aren’t interested in being faithful to one woman. I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“I’m not trying to be disrespectful, but Markus isn’t like you or most boys. He hasn’t cheated on me.”
That stung. Jerome took a sip of his lemon water. “No need to get upset. I’m just speaking out of concern. How long have you two been together?”
Joi twisted her lips. “Since the end of June.”
“Have you met his family or friends?”
Joi stared at him.
“If he is really serious about you, he’d care enough to bring you around the people he’s closest to.” He could tell Joi was highly bothered by his questions.
“I’ve met some of his friends. We’re very happy,” she snapped.
“Good,” he fibbed. “I hope that means he’s being faithful.”
Joi pushed her plate away and glanced around the room. Jerome didn’t want to upset her, but he was disturbed. He had been young once, and the thought of Joi spending time with her boyfriend was unsettling.
Jerome feared what she might say, but he had to ask. “This may be out of line . . . but you haven’t been intimate with him, have you?”
Joi rolled her eyes. “You are out of line.”
“I just think you’re too young. You’ll have plenty of time to be an adult. I mean, if you get pregnant or something, your life will change drastically. I know you don’t want to make things difficult . . .” Jerome stopped himself. He was sounding too fatherly. It was too soon for that. “Maybe I’m reading too much into this. I’ll just have to meet Markus when he is in town. I’m told I have a good antenna when it comes to these things.”
“Whatever, Jerome,” Joi interceded. “You can’t preach to me about what’s right or wrong. Your family doesn’t even know I exist.”
Ouch again. Jerome wasn’t exactly a good role model in this area, but he was determined to try and make her see his point. He wasn’t about to let some hormone-happy punk derail Joi’s dreams.
“Don’t you think I care about what happens to me and my future?” she continued.
The waiter returned to the table and picked up the empty bread basket, and Jerome welcomed the interruption. “How was your meal?” he asked.
“Everything was good,” Jerome stated. “Thanks.”
The waiter reached his long, bony arms across the table and removed the empty plates. “Will you be interested in dessert?”
“I think I’ve reached my limit, but if my daughter wants something—”
Joi shook her head, and the waiter grinned. “All right then. I’ll be back with your bill.”
“I’m leaving on Sunday, but I hope you know that I plan to be around as much as I can. You can call me whenever you want or need to. I don’t want us to become strangers.”
“I should call the home or cell phone?” Joi’s sarcasm was strong, just as her mother’s used to be.
“It’s not my intention to keep this from my family,” Jerome said. “As soon as the holidays are over—”
“Whatever, Jerome,” she uttered again. “You and Mother are just alike.”
Under the table Jerome felt Joi’s leg shaking.
“What about my feelings? What if I wanted to spend the holidays with my brothers?” She threw the napkin from her lap on the table and said, “Where is the waiter with the check?”
Jerome played with the salt and pepper shakers on the table. For a moment, he’d forgotten he was talking to a sixteen-year-old. “All I can say is that I am sorry. I sent money to your mother every month since you were a child, so please don’t think that I didn’t care. I wasn’t man enough then to step up, but I promise you, things will be different. This was a big step for me. I pray you’ll understand that. I’m trying, Joi. This won’t be easy, but I am trying. We’ll spend tomorrow together, and I’ll come back as often as I can to be with you, but you have got to show some effort here, too. Okay?”
“Okay,” was all she had to say.