***
Lance’s mother took a seat on his living roomsofa. He rubbed the back of his head. How did the conversation takea turn for the worst? Why did she have to ask him such personalquestions? He wasn’t good at expressing his feelings, and accordingto his father, men expressed themselves through working hard andproviding for their families.
He only let his guard down for one person.She saw the real him, vulnerable and kindhearted. Not the hardbusinessman he portrayed in front of others to prove himself. Heshouldn’t have accused her of not knowing him. She knew him betterthan anyone, but he wasn’t lying. It’d been too long without themtalking.
He ran his hand down his face. If he wasn’tcareful, Chantelle would distract him. There was no way this wouldwork. Why did he agree?
“Why didn’t you tell me she was writing thestory?” His mother’s expression looked pinched.
“Don’t start, please,” he said. “I didn’tknow myself until recently. All they said was a reporter would showto profile the wedding.”
“I’ll ask again. Since when is she back intown?”
“She has a name. Chantelle Woods. She visitsher family all the time.”
“Not like this. She hasn’t been to thishouse.” His mother motioned her hand around his living room.
Apparently his mother wasn’t over their pasteither. Why should she be upset? Didn’t she get what she wantedwhen Chantelle left for college? Didn’t he listen to her advicebecause he’d been young and heartbroken at his mistakes?
How would his life have turned if he didn’tlisten to his mother? Even his father co-signed. It didn’t surpriseLance. It was rare that his parents didn’t agree, especially withhis decisions. Did they mean well, as they claimed to?
Lance focused on his mother. “She grew uphere, Mom. Besides, I told you I didn’t know myself. Maybe theythought it was a good idea.”
“We can request someone else.” His motherreached inside her purse and showed him her cell phone. “I onlyhave to make one phone call. What will people say if they see—”
“Who cares what they think? I’m over it.”Lance returned to his seat. He clenched his jaw.
“You and Andrea are the talk of the town.You’re a power couple, and I don’t think your ex-girl—I meanChantelle writing the story will look good to the people,” hismother said. “Delta Heights has grown, but there are those thatremember. I don’t want our good name attached to... you know.”
Scandal. It was the same word she’d used tenyears ago. Lance’s gaze flicked upward. He needed air. He wantedthe wedding to be over. If only he could talk to Andrea.
He didn’t lie to Chantelle about his fiancé’ssweet and kind heart. He cared about her. Lance recalled hisproposal at the Taylor Gala.
Andrea had stood in her black floor-lengthgown. Black cloths covered the tables while name cards designatedwho sat where. Crystal and fine china and cloth napkins decoratedthe tables while scented candles and fresh flowers filled theair.
He had gotten down on one knee in the middleof the dance floor, taking out the princess cut diamond.
“Marry me, Andrea?” He had asked, his heartpalpitating inside his chest. There. He had said it.
She covered her mouth with her hands for amoment. “Really?”
He took her left hand and placed the ring onher finger. She had shrieked and bobbed her head. The crowd cheeredin the background as he hugged her to his chest. He had swallowedexcessively that night. Shouldn’t he have felt happier?
“Lance?”
Tuning in back to their conversation, helicked his lips. “I need to finish some work.”
“You have your fitting for your tuxedotoday.” His mother pointed at him.
“You can’t reschedule it?”
“This suit is tailor made. You have togo.”
“Give me an hour?” Because of his schedule,he hadn’t been back to his favorite place in a long time. He wouldvisit today, not to mention the community center. He’d missed thekids. Kids. Lance wouldn’t go there.
His mother grabbed her purse and stood to herfeet. “Very well. I swear, it’s as if you don’t want to getmarried. It better have nothing to do with her.”
Lance didn’t respond, but headed back to hisbedroom. His mother could let herself out.
He paced his room once he entered. Checkinghis watch, he could make it to the center before making his nextstops. The smiles on the kids’ faces would lift his spirits.
Lance needed a diversion, so he grabbed hisbriefcase and headed for his car. He drove in silence and releaseddeep breaths. Pulling into the parking lot of the commercial steelbuilding, he left his briefcase inside and walked inside thebuilding towards one classroom.
With school almost out, some students camefor tutoring, but the kids that filled the building were a mix fromthe town orphanage, two-parent homes, and single-parent homes.
He didn’t see Sadie at her desk, so he madehis way to the basketball court. Lance stuffed his hands in hispockets as he watched the boys play. They came almost every dayafter school and today was no different. One of his pupils, Zane,smiled when he saw him.
“Hey guys, it’s Mr. Lance.” Zane shot histhree-pointer and ran over to greet his mentor.
“What’s up guys? How was school? Finals werethis week, right?”
“Them teachers don’t know what they talkin’about. I can’t wait for the summer.”
Lance eyeballed him.
Zane rolled his eyes, but he corrected hisEnglish. “Those teachers don’t know what they’re talkingabout.”
“Thank you.” Lance fist bumped the boy. Therewas nothing wrong with slang, but he didn’t want the boy to takefor granted his education. Some kids didn’t get the chance.
“You sure it’s them Z?” Andre said. He spunthe basketball in his hands. “Sounds to me you just don’t getit.”
Zane’s nostrils flared.
Lance held up his hand. “That’s enough.Nobody picks on anybody around here. We’re a brotherhood. Wesupport each other and if one of us falls...” He waited for them tofinish his statement.
“We all fall.” The boys replied.
“That’s more like it.” He checked his watch.“I got to head back to the office, but I wanted to look in on youguys. Let me see one more play.” He motioned for them to go back tothe court. “Let’s go!”
The boys ran back to the basketball court andresumed their game. After Lance witnessed a few more shots, hewaved goodbye. As he
