Danielle Roberts. I knew the woman looked familiar. She was one of five Danielles in our class.
“It’s all right, Maggie, Danielle is entitled to her opinion. In fact, I’m open to suggestions,” Tiger says into the mic. Her shoulders are hunched, and she isn’t looking at the audience.
My turn. “I have a suggestion.” I step into the aisle, and there’s an audible gasp from the room. “How about you give me the benefit of the doubt?”
Tiger’s head jerks up, and she gives me a look that could cut glass. “Oh, really? And how have we not given you the benefit of the doubt? The email from the Cash King Foundation was pretty clear. It’s hard to misinterpret Denied.”
I make my way to the podium. “I’m not exactly sure what happened, but if you’d told me, I could’ve tried to fix it.”
“Why would we think you’d fix it, when you declined the grant?” Tiger holds her ground as I mount the stage. I’ve got to give it to the woman, she isn’t intimidated by me.
I ignore her question and address the crowd. “I wasn’t aware the application had been denied.” Okay, that statement makes it sound like I knew about the application in the first place, which I didn’t, but these people don’t need to know that. “But I promise I will find out what happened and make this right.”
There’s a smattering of applause. I glance at the front row and see my mom smiling at me. Next to her is Nan and next to her is Joe, who’s holding a sign that says Cash is Cheap. “You too, Nan?”
“Boy, do you see me holding a sign?”
I point to the poster board Joe’s holding. “That’s your handwriting.”
She bats away the remark. “You know how bad Joe’s arthritis is. If he’d written it, nobody would’ve been able to read a word of it.”
The crowd laughs, and I lift a brow at my grandmother, but all she does is wink at me. I swear I get no respect.
“Folks.” Tiger raises her voice over the crowd. “I think we should table this discussion until next week. I’ll post my ideas for raising the money in the Socialbook group, and we can discuss them at the next meeting. Thanks for coming out tonight.”
People stand to leave. “Wait a minute.” Everyone turns to look at me. “I’m telling you that I didn’t decline the application.” Not technically a lie. “But I’ll find out what happened.”
No one but my mom and Nan act like I’ve even spoken. Tiger’s already gathered her purse and stormed out the side door. As I glance around at the thinning crowd, I realize I haven’t bombed this bad since my sophomore year in college when I threw five interceptions, and OU beat us forty-two to nothing.
I make my way to my family. To Joe’s credit, he’s put away the sign. “Why didn’t you tell me what was going on, Mom?”
Her eyes narrow in that mom kind of way. “I tried, but someone wasn’t returning calls or texts.”
She’s right, of course, but I’m not ready to admit defeat. “You could’ve left a message.”
The tap, tap of her small hand on my chest is an indictment. “Good try, son. I love you, but you should not be the one in the dark right now. This is your foundation, and I’m your mother.” She turns and makes her way up the aisle.
Nan takes me by the hand. “Come on, big boy, let’s go home.” She’s always called me big boy, even before I towered over her.
“Think we could get a ride in that fancy car of yours?” Joe falls into step with us.
I give him an are you shitting me look. “Don’t push your luck, old man. Cash is Cheap, really?”
Joe’s yellowed teeth flash in his bearded smile. “Mob mentality, Cash. I got caught up in the mayhem, but I’ve come back to my senses.”
The guy’s so good-natured, and he makes my nan so happy, that it’s hard to stay mad at him. “Sure, I’ll give you a ride.”
“Whoop!” He punches the air. “Shotgun! Race you, Linny Rae.”
My grandmother throws her head back and laughs. “Joe, you kook. Between your arthritis and my bunions, a hundred-year-old turtle could beat both of us in a foot race.”
I shake my head as the two of them walk in front of me on the way to the car. I’ve got bigger problems than two geriatric troublemakers.