A Cold Piece of Work (15 page)

Sonya and Michele burst into laughter.

“And,” he added, “who you hiding it from?”

“Forget you, Solomon,” Sonya said, feigning anger. “I got that from my grandmother. She used to put her corn liquor under the sink, surrounded by mothballs. She said my late grandfather hated the smell of mothballs, so she knew he wouldn't go under there to look for the liquor.”

“Okay, I get it. I mean,” Solomon said, “I see why that worked for your grandmother. But your grandfather has passed on to glory, right? You expecting him to come back here?”

They all laughed again.

“Like I said, forget you, Solomon. I like it there. It's out of the way down there,” she said.

The humor was a much-needed distraction—if only for a few minutes—from the serious matters that consumed them.

It was 1:50 a.m. “Cuz, we gonna have to stay here and drink all your liquor and take your car in the morning,” Michele said. “I
don't think we need to be on the road tonight smelling like a distillery.”

“Hey,” Solomon said rather loudly, alarming the women, “don't y'all get too loud and wake up my son.”

The room went silent. The three of them looked at each other for what seemed like several moments, but, in reality, was about five seconds. Clearly, the liquor had kicked in with Solomon, who had a lot to say and the vodka made it come out easier.

“That's my son in there,” he said, pointing toward the back of the house. His voice suddenly was low and serious, like he was revealing a long-kept secret. He spilled some of his drink on his shirt but did not bother to wipe it off.

“I feel like more of a man knowing I'm a father,” he went on. “It probably doesn't make sense to you. And It probably doesn't make me more of a man, but it makes me feel like more of a man, like I have given more to the world—or that I had not given enough.

“I'm the same person, but it feels like—I don't know—like I have a bigger purpose in life now. I grew up in the last eight years, Michele. I feel like I've got some more growing up to do, but I'm more motivated now to do that. I gotta figure out…
we
gotta figure out…how to tell Gerald that I'm his dad—and that I'm not ‘no good' or some loser who didn't want to be his father.”

“Solomon, I'm so glad to hear you say that,” Sonya said. “Michele probably will get mad at me for saying this, but, hell, the rat's out of the bag now…”

“Damn, girl,” Michele said, “I know you're drunk because you're messing up clichés.”

“Wow, did I say ‘rat'? I meant to say…‘hat,'” Sonya responded.

“Hat is wrong, too,” Michele said. “It's cat—let the cat out of the bag.”

“Oh, is it? Well,” Sonya said, “anyway, Solomon, since the cat's out of the thing, I can tell you that this is a dream come true for Michele.”

“Sonya!” Michele jumped in.

“What? It's true, girl,” Sonya shot back. “No need in trying to keep it a secret now.”

“Well, can you be clear about what you're trying to say?” Michele said.

“Okay, okay,” Sonya told her. “Solomon, what I was saying was about Gerald, not her. Having you back is not her dream come true. It's a dream come true for her that you know he's your son and that you're willing to be a father to him. She's been obsessed with that.”

“No, I haven't been obsessed with it,” Michele said. “But I always knew it would be better for my son if his father helped raise him. I knew that. I would always become jealous when I saw a father playing sports with his son or at the grocery store, the mall, wherever. And I would be sad about it, too…almost feel sorry for Gerald.”

“Well, you can let all that go now,” Solomon said. He wanted to ask her why she did not try harder to find him years before, if all that mattered so much. Why didn't she tell him the deal when they first saw each other at the banquet?

Women's intuition was as reliable as a wet tissue, but in this case, Michele could sense some angst in Solomon. So she tried to appease him before he asked.

“I wish this moment would've happened years ago, Solomon. I really do,” she said. “Even if we weren't together, I wanted you to be in his life. I hope you can focus on what you can be to him now and not what could've happened.”

“Honestly, I'm not good with how everything happened, but,
in the end, it was my fault,” he said. “So, if you're not mad at me, I'm not mad at you. Trust me, I'm focused on Gerald.”

Pretty soon, they all drifted off in the living room. Deep into his sleep, Solomon had a dream that he was being chased by women of his past and present: Michele, Marie, Cathy, Dionne and Evelyn—the five women in his life. When he hurried inside and slammed the door behind him to keep them out, he turned around and was struck in the head with a golf club.

He jumped up from his sleep and decided then that he had to make peace with those women.

Marie, Evelyn, Cathy and Dionne were good women who were caught up in Solomon's web of indecision and selfishness. They accepted his terms, but they abandoned their pride and, in some cases, morals to do it. Solomon actually liked it when he broke a woman's will or made her succumb to his.

But those thoughts, while on his mind, were secondary. He had a son he had to get to know as a father. He had to tell his parents. He had to tell his friends, including Ray, who once told Solomon, “We'll know if God has a sense of humor if He allows you to have a kid.”

Before he could gather himself and get off of the couch, little Gerald came sleepy-eyed into the living room. “Coach Money,” he said to Solomon, who was taken aback.

Solomon was taken off guard. “Oh, hey buddy. What are you doing up?”

“I'm thirsty.”

“Gerald, hi, honey,” Michele said as she rose from the loveseat she had slept on. “Come here.”

“I'm thirsty, Mommy. Can I have something to drink?”

“I'll get it for him,” Solomon volunteered. “If that's all right.”

Michele smiled at Solomon. “Sure.”

“Come on, Gerald.” Solomon put his arm around Gerald and father and son walked together to the kitchen.

Michele's heart was full.

As Gerald downed the orange juice, Solomon told him: “It's five-thirty. I'm going to take you back to bed, okay? Then we're going to get together later today. I have some good news to tell you.”

“What is it?” Gerald asked.

“I'll tell you later. We'll go to lunch. What's your favorite place?”

“Pizza Hut.”

“Pizza Hut? Ah, man,” Solomon said. “We'll find somewhere better than that.”

“Okay,” Gerald said.

“Come on. Let's go back to bed,” he told the kid and walked him back to his bedroom.

When Solomon returned to the living room, Sonya and Michele stared at him.

“What?” he said.

“How do you feel?” Sonya said.

He smiled. “Great,” he said. “A little awkward, too, though. I guess those were my first acts as a father with my son—or knowing I was a father.”

“It was a sweet moment,” Michele said. “Very sweet.”

Solomon did not respond. He just lay back on the couch, with his arms folded behind his head.

Michele came over and kneeled down beside him. “I could've cried, seeing you and him together like that. It's going to work out. It's going to be great.”

Then she leaned over and kissed him gently on the lips and rested her head on his chest. He hugged her and rubbed her back.

“I need you to help me through this,” he said. “I'm on board, no doubt. But we're talking about a complete lifestyle change for me—and him and you, too. For me, it's completely different. Everything changes.”

“I know,” Michele said, still lying on his chest. “I'm sorry this is happening like this. But I'll be there for you. It's going to take some time for you and Gerald to get comfortable with it, but it'll happen.”

“What about you?” Solomon asked.

Michele pulled herself off his chest and looked into his eyes.

“This has been a reality in my mind for seven years. This is all I ever wanted. So, I don't have to adjust. I've lived it every day for a long time, in my mind.”

Solomon moved the cushions on the couch to the floor to make room for Michele. She pulled herself up and they hugged. They dozed off on the couch until close to 7 a.m.

When they awoke, they freshened up and took Sonya's car to Michele's. Solomon kept going to his house, where he showered and shaved. The plan was to meet back at Sonya's at noon. Then, they would take Gerald to lunch and tell him the news.

After showering and getting dressed, Solomon got comfortable and called his mom.

He followed the requisite small talk with the bombshell. “Ma, I've got to tell you something incredible,” he started.

“Something good or bad, Solomon.”

“Shocking, but good. You ready for this?”

He took a deep breath. “Ma, I told you that I reconnected with Michele a few months ago. I—”

“Don't tell me you're getting married already?” she jumped in.

“Ma, no. That's not it,” he said. “Michele's son—”

“Oh, no. Don't tell me something happened to him,” she jumped in again.

“Ma…” Solomon whined as if he were a kid. “Gerald is fine. The thing is, he's my son.”

Nothing came back from the other end of the phone.

“Ma, did you hear me? You're a grandmother.”

“Solomon, what are you talking about?” she said, finally. “Where are you getting this from?”

“I had a talk last night with Michelle,” he explained. “She gave me the whole spiel on what happened. And it all adds up.”

“Are you sure? You know what happened to your cousin, don't you?”

“I do, Ma. But this is a different case. Plus, I already told Michele we needed to do the parental testing or whatever it's called.”

“My goodness, Solomon. My goodness,” she said. “All this time you had your offspring out there? You had no idea? What's his name?”

“I didn't have any idea. But I know him; I was his basketball coach. Gerald, remember?”

“The one you said reminded you of you? That's your son?”

“Yes.”

“How do you feel about all this?” she asked. “I don't know what to feel. It's not the same as knowing the child is coming and waiting for the birth. It's just all of a sudden he's here—and he's seven years old… My goodness.”

“I know. It's strange for me, too, Ma,” Solomon said. “I just found out last night. So I'm still dealing with the shock of it all. But, overall, I'm excited. The facts are the facts. He's my son and I have to be a father to him.”

“I would expect nothing less from you,” she said. “But you make sure you get that DNA test before you start getting attached to him.”

“Ma…”

“I'm just saying,” she said. “And I guess I could say ‘congratulations,'
too, huh? My son is a father? I always hoped that would be the case because I always wanted a grandchild to spoil. Now I have one that I don't even know.”

“Well, we're going to change that, Ma,” Solomon said. “I'm going to bring him up there for a visit sometime soon. He has an entire family that he has to meet.”

“The good thing about children is that they adjust to things much quicker and better than adults,” his mom said. “So he'll probably feel better about all this before I will. Or you.”

“I hope so,” he said.

Solomon did not tell his mother about the carjacking, figuring the news of Gerald was more than enough for one day. He next called his father.

“Son, you telling me I have a grandson?” his dad said. “There's a little you out there? Well, damn. All of a sudden I feel like I'm getting old.”

“Dad, you're just as old as you were the second before I told you,” Solomon said.

“I have a question for you,” his father said. “Is he the only one out there?”

“The only what? Kid of mine?” Solomon asked. “Yeah, that's it—as far as I know. And I think I would know.”

“You thought you didn't have any before yesterday,” the father said.

“That's true,” Solomon conceded. “Still, I'm pretty certain that's it.”

“Well, son, I have this advice for you: Be a father to that boy,” he said.

“Love him and spoil him, but discipline him. Make sure he respects you and understands authority. Make sure he's a Singletary.”

“I will, Dad. I'll teach him what you taught me.”

There were others Solomon had to share the news with, but only Ray was worthy of a call that Sunday morning.

“I guess God is a funny guy, huh?” was his response.

“Hilarious,” Solomon said.

“So, how you gonna manage this?” Ray said. “You've intentionally gone out of your way to be non-committal. Now you have a son?”

“Non-committal to women,” he said. “And even with that, it's been just me and Michele these last three months.”

“You cut the other women? There had to be five of them,” Ray said.

“There were four and they haven't been officially cut, but it's coming,” he said. “I've just avoided them. But I've got to tell them what's up. And I will. In person. But I've got more pressing stuff to deal with now. Don't you think?”

“No doubt,” Ray said. “You've got to turn that kid from your player to your son. Probably harder will be to turn his thinking from you as his coach to you as his father. It'll happen. But you've got to be patient; it probably won't be that easy.”

“Well, easy or hard, it's got to be done,” Solomon said. “I just want to get to the point where he calls me ‘Daddy' and we're all comfortable and content with all this.”

“So where is Michele in all this?” Ray said. “I mean, is this one big happy family now?”