CHAPTER 56
Lincoln
December 2010
The fact that Katherine wanted nothing to do with him bothered him more than Mona doing everything for him. He’d never asked for a handout. Wasn’t used to a woman providing for all his needs, including sex.
Mona called from his living room, “Come on, Lincoln, darling. We’re gonna be late for your appointment with your Prime Care doctor. And we have to go to Bed Bath and Beyond and get a blanket. Then we can eat at the Hard Rock Cafe. And our last stop will be to pick up the Christmas tree.”
Practically overnight, Mona had furnished his entire one-bedroom apartment down to the silverware in the kitchen drawer. The living room had a cerulean suede sofa on one side and two big, black high-back suede chairs with wing sides on the other side. A crystal coffee table divided the sofa and chairs. A twenty-inch round table draped with a blue cloth was positioned between the two chairs. A sixty-inch flat screen on an entertainment stand faced the sofa. A surround sound system was wired throughout the apartment. He had state-of-the-art technology, but nothing beat the king-sized bed in his bedroom.
How was he ever going to ask her to leave without her being pissed off? Especially with her paying all his bills and giving him money.
“Give me a few minutes,” he said, locking his bedroom door.
It was two weeks before Christmas. He had to call Katherine and his grandmother. He turned on the iPod player Mona had bought. Turned on the woman who turned him on while he was sexing Mona, Nicki Minaj. Nicki’s breasts and ass were amazing. Watching her videos excited him. Mona used to excite him, ten years ago. Not now. Her motherly ways were appreciated, but no man wanted to bed his mother.
When Katherine answered, he asked, “Can you ever forgive me? I know I messed up.”
“Nothing has changed on our end, Lincoln. Nothing.”
Her “nothing” seemed cold. Final.
“I’m coming home in a few days. I’d like to see my son. Please, Katherine. Can you keep him out of what I owe you?”
“You get the child support papers I sent?” she asked.
“Yeah. I got ’em.” She made him regret giving her his address. Said she wanted to send pictures of Jeremiah.
Sternly she asked, “You got my money?”
“I’ll get it. I promise. I just need some time.”
“Call me back when you’ve got it.”
“Kat—” His phone went silent. “Hello.” He glanced at the screen. Her name and number were no longer displayed.
He glanced at the nightstand, picked up Mona’s checkbook. This wasn’t the first time he’d contemplated doing this. Mona had paid for so much, a few thousand more shouldn’t hurt.
Flipping close to the end, he peeled a blank check, put her book back in its place. Better to ask for forgiveness. He had to see his son. Surely she’d understand. He folded the check, opened the Bible his grandparents sent him to the twenty-third Psalm, placed the check inside, then closed the Bible. He unlocked the bedroom door.
He clapped his hands so hard that he jumped. Scared himself a little. “Whoa.” He took a deep breath, shook his head. “Let’s get rollin’, Mona, baby.” He kissed her, followed her out the door. They entered the garage, got into Mona’s new black-on-black Lexus GX. If she’d just marry him he wouldn’t have to ask her for anything. Her money would become his money. How much money did she have?
“Mona, baby,” he said.
“Yes.”
“I know you said not to ask again about how you can afford all of this, so I won’t, but why haven’t you responded to my proposal? Are you ever going to say yes to that?”
She became silent for a moment, looked at him for a few seconds, then said, “I’ll give you the right answer at the right time. Let’s just focus on getting you to your appointment.”
He didn’t want to forge her signature to that check, then place it in the bank account she’d opened for him, but he would if he had to. She’d taken him to the bank with the check the government had given him. Said if she needed to transfer money to his account, their banking at the same institution would make it easier. Was she telling the whole truth or did she have an ulterior motive? They’d sat with her banker, and in less than an hour he was also a customer.
“I was wondering. I’ve never asked anyone for a financial favor. But I was wondering if you could loan me sixty thousand. I told you my grandmother is sick. I want to go home next week before Christmas to see her. And—” He paused, wanting to say, “Forget I asked,” but said, “I was hoping to help make her comfortable in her last days. You don’t have to answer now. Think about it.” His ulterior motive was to see if Mona would hesitate about the dollar amount.
If she wrote the check, he’d get a cashier’s check and send fifty-five thousand to Katherine. He’d use the other five to go to Selma and maybe Chicago. And he’d keep his word to Mona and pay her back soon as he could.
She parked in the lot at the clinic. “We’ll discuss it later. But if it’s for your child support for your son, the answer is hell, no. I don’t mind taking care of you, but I’m not supporting him.”
That sounded like a no, but he’d wait for a definitive response. If he stuck with his original story, maybe she’d help him out. He should’ve kept his child support issues from Mona, but she’d asked so many questions that it was easier not to lie to her. If he’d gone to college, then gone pro, he wouldn’t be anyone’s dependent.
“If you want to go home, I’ll get our tickets for Christmas and I’ll make our hotel and rental car arrangements,” she said.
“And I have a surprise for you tomorrow,” he said.
“A surprise? Well, alrighty then, I can’t wait. I hope you didn’t spend more than the weekly allowance I’ve put you on. You have to learn how to save money.”
He got out of the car, opened her door. She followed him into the clinic. Their wait in the lobby was a half hour before he heard, “William Lincoln.” They followed the nurse, waited for her to take his vitals, then the nurse led them to his Prime Care doctor’s office.
“Well, hello, William. Hi, Mona,” the doctor said. “Now that you’re in your new place, things should be better for you, William. I see you brought your friend again. Y’all have a seat.”
Better was relative. Yes, he had a roof over his head. Yes, his place was nicely furnished. Yes, he was having sex on a regular basis. No, he wasn’t cured from his PTSD. He struggled not to think about anything that would trigger his anxiety.
“I’m trying, doc,” he said. Assuming his comfort position, Lincoln stared at the floor between his combat boots.
Tapping him on the knee, Mona whispered, “Look at the doctor when he’s talking to you.”
The doctor looked at Mona. “Thanks, young lady.” He shifted his eyes to Lincoln. “You make sure you keep her around. This here woman cares about you.” He tapped on his keyboard, then mumbled, “Now, let me see . . . ah, yeah. Do you need any med refills, William?”
Lincoln hated that herding cattle feel. In and out in ten minutes, then the doctor was on to the next patient.
Mona answered, “Yes, he needs a stronger prescription for sleeping because we’re going to be on a plane before his next visit. I can’t have him freaking out in midflight. And a refill of the antidepressant. And just in case, I think you should give him a prescription for pain. All name brand only. I don’t want Lincoln taking generics.”
That was sobering. Lincoln wanted to push Mona out of her seat onto the floor for handling him like a kid.
“Well, that’s not a problem,” the doctor said. “I have that list of therapists you requested. Have you given more thought to sponsoring William’s additional health care? More drugs, stronger meds, that’s not the solution. William could benefit greatly from having a therapist. Here,” he said, handing Mona a list of names. “And he could use a good HMO. My recommendations are on the list too. William will never be cured from PTSD. It’s like having HIV—”
Lincoln interrupted, “Excuse me, doc, that’s a bad analogy.”
“You’re right, William. But you get my point. No matter how much meds you take, a panic attack can happen when you least expect it. Maybe hypnosis can help. I don’t know. But what I do know is that woman is your guardian angel. Mona, if you have any questions about my referrals, don’t call me. Call them.”
Mona stood, reached for the prescriptions. “I’ve got it from here.”
Lincoln was done watching the doctor and Mona tag one another as though they were the only two on his team and his opinion didn’t matter. He stood, shook the doctor’s hand for the first time.
“Oh, I almost forgot. Here’s two tickets to the Seattle–Atlanta game on Sunday. Don’t bother thanking me. My wife said I can’t go.”
Mona reached for the tickets. Lincoln beat her to them. Outside the doctor’s office, he stopped. He looked down at Mona.
“I’m a grown-ass man. You don’t have to control every damn thing.”
She replied, “I do. And I will.”
“Then marry me.”
“Let’s go,” Mona said, leading the way.