I heard the front door open, the alarm silenced, and I knew my mother had arrived. My parents, Tamar, and my housekeeper were the only people who had the key and the alarm code. My parents owned a house about five miles from me in an upscale neighborhood my money gained them access to. My dad loved Pine, but my mother was more than happy to let me know she wanted out as soon as I was financially in a position to give her the new house I’d always promised.
She claimed she wanted to be close to the Giants’ home stadium. I supposed that was true since she and my father never missed a game and often came to watch me practice, but I also knew it was the proximity to her sorority sisters and New York City shopping and dining that appealed to her. Even though my father was still working, she took full advantage of the stipend I gave them every month to spend as she saw fit. With a paid-for house, they did well, but what good had my generosity done me when I’d been so disrespected by her?
Her words came up the steps before she did. “Stephen, I talked to that fella from the scholarship committee at the NCAA about you—”
They stopped just as suddenly as they began when she saw my expression. She approached the dining room table between us and put down the mail she’d retrieved. I watched her sort it – separating important mail from junk. Getting my mail was always her habit. She’d had easy access.
Concern on her face, she looked at me. “What’s wrong?” She slid out of the mink jacket my dad had given her for Christmas. “Did the doctor tell you something?”
“The doctor said the same thing he said last month. It’s wait-and-see.”
“Why do you look like that? I know you’re not letting that Debra drama bother you. There’s no point –”
“Mom…” I cut her off. “I’m going to ask you a question I’m pretty sure I know the answer to.” I raised a hand and cautioned her. “Please don’t lie to me.”
“Lie?” She cocked her head as only a black mother could and planted a fist on her hip. “What’s this about?”
“Did you delete a voice mail message from Tamar from my phone on the day I was discharged from the hospital?”
She frowned. “Delete a phone message—”
I spoke over her. “And did you also take a letter she sent to me in the mail?”
My mother’s lip trembled, ever so slightly. She opened her mouth and then, seeing the seriousness in my eyes, closed it.
“You were healing, Stephen. You did not need any more Tamar Johnson drama.”
I sank into the chair behind me. I hadn’t wanted to believe she’d done it. I knew, but I still held out a sliver of hope that she would say no, and I would see the truth of the “no” in her eyes. I released the breath I’d been holding and washed my hand over my face. What was wrong with the women in my life?
My mother took a seat across from me. “I know you think what I did was foul.”
“I do!” I yelled, slamming my fist down on the table hard enough to crack the oak in two.
Eyes widened, Mom was visibly shaken. She practically leapt back in the chair, but she recovered quickly.
“I know you aren’t giving me a hard time about that girl when she kept your son from you for eleven years.”
“That’s not what this is about, Mom.” I stood and circled my chair. “You didn’t know about Isaiah when you did this. This has nothing to do with Isaiah.”
“I was protecting you.”
“I didn’t ask for your protection.”
“Well, you needed it.” She rolled her neck hard enough to need physical therapy of her own. “You let Tamar break your heart and your spirit. Debra is on television spreading lies. Your taste in women leaves much to be desired.”
My chest filled up with steam. I measured my words to keep my tone respectful. “I’m grown. This is my life. I wanted that phone call. I wanted the letter. You interfered.”
“I did what any mother would have done.”
“Any manipulative, controlling mother. Dang, no wonder I was with Debra. She’s just like you.”
My mother grimaced. “Stephen, you’re going too far.”
“I’m not. You are going to tell me something right now. Why you have always disliked Tamar and why, even with whatever the reason is for your feelings, you think you have the right to keep her from me.”
“I won’t have you talking to me like this.”
“Like what? Like an angry grown up who deserves answers? I’m not a child. You don’t get to choose who I have a relationship or friendship with.”
“She’s always been bad luck, all the way back to middle school, when you lost the science fair because you picked the project she wanted to do.”
I wanted to scream. “Are you serious right now?”
“The point is, you always do what she wants to do, and it’s always hurt you,” Mom said. “That little tramp had no business opening her legs in my house on prom night.”
“Tamar and I were together because I asked her to be with me. Because she loved me, and I loved her. Why can’t you understand that?”
“That little –”
I raised a hand to halt her. “Be careful.” I shook my head. “She’s not about to be another tramp up in here.”
My mother’s chest heaved in and out like she was trying to make fire. She was as hot as a dragon, but so was I. “You lost the Paul Award because of her. You earned that award. You’ll never be nominated again.”
“I lost the Paul because of Debra.”
“Losing the Paul started with you calling Sports Center. For what? To drag your reputation through the gutter like hers.”
“Telling the truth was my decision. Aside from it just being time for the truth to come out, I made that choice to prove to Tamar I loved her.”
“Her love was too costly. A woman is supposed to add value to your life. Peace. What has Tamar done for you except ruin your brand?”
“You liked Debra. What’s she doing for my brand?”
My mother was silent on that question.
“She was going to tell me about Isaiah. That was the point of the call. Not that this is the most relevant part of it, but since you care about my image so much, if I had known about him first, then the media wouldn’t have been able to use the drama against me.”
My mother stood. “You have no idea why she called you. She’s telling you now that it was about Isaiah, but how do you know if that’s even true?”
“I’d know if I had talked to her. If you hadn’t gotten in the middle of it. You’re not seeing what you’ve done. You never do.”
My mother’s lips tightened.
“And where is my letter?”
“What?” She waved me off. “I don’t have it.”
“Yes, you do. I want it.”
“Stephen, I threw it away. Honestly, I did.”
“Did you read it?”
“No. I didn’t care what she wanted. I just wanted to get rid of her.” My mother huffed. “For the love of God, please don’t pick back up with that woman.”
“For the love of God,” I chuckled. “You actually said that? Tamar is a young woman who hasn’t had her mother since she was fifteen years old. What have you ever done to help her, to mentor her, or to encourage her? You’re supposed to be a Christian, but you made a teenager your enemy, and you’ve held a grudge against her ever since. What kind of love is that?”
My words seemed to enrage my mother even more. “You can say what you want. I don’t think she’s right for you. I never have and all I wanted to do was protect you from everything that’s been happening for the past six months.”
“I don’t need protection.” I emphasized every word.
My mother bit her lip. She was thoughtful before saying, “Even with this, you need to leave her right down there in Georgia where she belongs. You need to focus on your ankle and your son.”
“You don’t have the right to tell me what I need to be focused on. Not anymore. I want my key. I’m changing my code. I have nothing to say to you.”
My mother snatched her head back. “What?”
“You heard me. I want you out of my house.”
She stared in disbelief. She didn’t move.
“I’m not going to say it again. I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but I want my keys. You’re not welcome here.”
“Stephen Isaac Pierce. I am your mother.”
“Don’t remind me. I already feel sorry for myself.”
My mother reached into her handbag, removed her key ring, and took my set off the clasp. She placed it on the table. “There’s no need to change the code. Your father has enough trouble remembering these things.”
“Bye, Mother.” I turned my back.
She left the house the same way she came. The only difference was her heels hit the wooden stairs more sharply. I heard the door open and slam behind her.
I dropped back into my chair. I had never been so disappointed in her in my life. I also had no idea where she and I would go from here.