“Love is simple, son. You make a mistake. You fix it. But not in that way that men tend to handle things. There’s a difference between repair and correct. Somewhere in our sixty years, there was less to fix.”
Repair. Maurice used that language with his crew. He thought he had a handle on it. Thought he’d been applying those principles.
“I love my wife, but above all, I like her. I want the best for her. Every day, I work to earn the faith and trust she’s placed in me.”
“Okay, Pops.” Richard nudged Taurion’s seat. “I had to see this every day. Them kissing and groping each other. And they still do it! You see how old they are.”
Taurion turned in his chair and gave a soft smile. “Makes me miss my dad. Him and Moms were like that. Messed up my expectations completely.”
Richard threw up his hands. “That’s what I’m saying. That kind of stuff doesn’t happen anymore.”
Taurion shook his head. “I disagree. All I wanted was a love like my folks had. When my dad passed, my mom—I thought she wasn’t too far behind for a minute.”
“When Sera goes, I’m going,” Mr. Turner barked.
“Statistically, men die first, Pops, so what’s Mommy expected to do?”
“Your mother will live on, maybe love again. That’s what I want for her. She’s got you and your sister. Grandkids. Her friends. I’m thankful she’s let me tag along all this time.”
Tag along… That’s how Maurice felt about Monique. He just wanted to watch her, to make things better for her. But he messed it up. She probably hated him now.
“What about you, young blood? How did you meet Cassandra?” Mr. Turner asked Taurion.
Taurion sat up and cleared his throat. “You all probably heard Cass’s side of things.” His cheeks grew red, and he rubbed the back of his neck as the other men chuckled.
“We heard some things,” Tommie said. “But we never heard your version.”
Taurion took a long drag from his cigar. “Abbreviated version: I met Cass at a conference. Chatted her up at a hotel bar. One thing led to another, and she got pregnant. Said she didn’t need me, that I was too young. That she could handle it herself.”
“But you’re so happy now,” Maurice said, confusion coloring his words.
“Because I chose to be. She wasn’t ever a one-night thing for me. I was a punk who was willing to take what I could get. But she’s always been it for me, so I showed up. Every day. Whether she wanted me to or not.”
Tommie clapped Taurion on the back. “Why you skipping over the part where you were already in love with her when you met?”
His cheeks grew redder. “I was a fan of her work. The woman is fineandbrilliant. Who wouldn’t be?”
Mr. Turner dapped Taurion up. “You got that eye, son.”
Maurice didn’t know much about Dr. Cassandra Wood except that she was Lanie’s sorority sister. A thirty-year friendship. And she had a toddler with Taurion.
“You two are some stalkers,” Richard muttered.
“No,” Taurion said. “Stalking is ignoring herno. What I do is prove that my yes has meaning.”
Maurice thought about this morning and that raggedy-ass note. He hung his head.
“What about you, Mo?” Tommie asked. “You got a story?”
Maurice looked at his phone again, at that photo.
“I met her a couple of days ago,” he said. “She was alone and sipping coffee.”
Tommie huffed a laugh. “Damn, that’s it?”
Maurice shrugged. “That’s all I got.”
“Come on, B. We see how you watch her. Give us something.”