“How long have you felt like this, Trevor? You’ve never said anything. You know that you can talk to me anytime.”
“I know, Mom, but what’s the use? Look, you want to hang out with me? I was going to hang out with a friend of mine from school, but I can hook up with him later.”
“You mean that, Trevor? You don’t mind being seen with your mother?”
“Mom, you’ve still got it going on. You look better than some of those twenty-year-olds.”
Brenda grinned. “So I’m still fine, baby?”
“Mom, you’re all that and a big bag of chips.”
“Okay, let me get my coat. I’m looking forward to hanging out with my son.”
“Great.” Trevor poured himself another glass of juice and held it in midair when he heard the door that led into the garage open.
“Trevor, what’s up, man? Where are you on your way to? Your mother here?”
“You’ve got a lot of questions for somebody who didn’t make it home last night.”
“And you better watch your mouth, boy, or you won’t be able to talk out of it. Who do you think you are, to talk to me like that? Ain’t none of your business where I’ve been, you got that?”
“Trevor…” Brenda began but stopped short when she saw Victor.
“Where’s everyone going?” Victor asked again.
“Trevor and I are going to Central’s football game.”
“Well, have fun.” Victor smirked, giving Trevor a beefy glance. “And Trevor, when you come home, I have some chores I need done.”
Trevor sneered. “I’ve already done my chores.”
“Good, but I have some other things I need you to do. Make sure you come home right after the game.”
“What’s up with you, Victor?” Brenda asked. “No one has seen you since yesterday morning, and now you come home trying to tell everybody what to do.”
“I’m talking to Trevor, Brenda. A father and his son. Telling my son to do a little work doesn’t have anything to do with you. Taking out the garbage and cleaning his room isn’t going to make him a man.”
Brenda pushed her hand in Victor’s face. “And I guess staying out all night without making a phone call to let me know that you were all right makes you a man? You need to take a bath because you reek of that ho you’ve been with. Come on, Trevor.”
Trevor moved past Victor and followed Brenda into the garage. Victor’s gaze burned into Brenda’s back.
“Your momma won’t be there to take up for you next time,” Victor said to the air. “No kid of mine is going to disrespect me.”
Hearing the car pull out of the garage, Victor pulled the gun from his coat pocket and laid it on the kitchen counter with a thud. Beyonce jumped, nearly spilling the remnants of her milk on the floor. Victor traced the pistol with his finger, picked it up, and held it in his hand. He held a pose, holding the gun to the side with his arm outstretched like he had seen on one of the gangster movies he had taken to watching.
“Pow, pow, pow,” Victor said out loud. “You didn’t listen to me, Mimi, and now you’ve got to pay the cost. My threats didn’t mean much, but this gun sitting upside your temple is going to do the talking. Don’t make me use it, bitch.”
Victor put the gun back into his pocket and went to his room.
30
It felt good stumping on the grounds of her alma mater. As she and Trevor walked to the football field, Brenda closed her eyes for a moment, remembering a time many years ago when she and Mimi had attended their first football game. She could hear the band playing some jazzy tune that made them sway with the beat and Mimi making up her own lyrics to the song. It was the first time she had heard one of the cute guys she had been admiring ask another who she was, pointing his finger directly at her like she was a prize he’d just won. It was Victor; and she had fallen hard.
Brenda followed Trevor to the stands. The game was already underway, and Central had seven points on the scoreboard. Before she could sit down, Central scored another touchdown, and the fans were up on their feet screaming. The cheerleaders engaged the crowd, chanting loud and stomping their feet, while their bodies twisted and gyrated with the beat of their words. Then Brenda spotted them—Asia and Afrika, her eyes lingering on Afrika much longer, trying to