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“Close your mouth, girl, and stop staring.”
“It isn’t possible. I don’t believe it. How . . . ?”
“How did I become this gorgeous specimen of a man?” Lloyd’s voice was mocking, with a slightly bitter undertone.
Adrienne massaged her temples. She looked at him closely, trying to find in the handsome, talented, and confident man who sat before her a trace of the neglected teenage boy with the thick glasses, terrible acne, and shoulders that always appeared slumped with defeat.
“You can’t be LaMar Jenkins,” she protested. “Things like this just don’t happen in real life. It can’t be true,” she said.
His eyes, which begged for understanding, assured her that it was.
It was too much. Adrienne was not sure whether to scream, run, or both. Her eyes widened. She shook her head as her stomach tightened. “I don’t believe that you’re LaMar Jenkins.”
“You’re right. I’m not LaMar Jenkins. Not anymore. It’s a long story, Adrienne.”
When Adrienne didn’t respond, he shoved his hands in his pockets and sighed. “I only look different on the outside. Inside, I’m still the same person that you knew so many years ago.”
“Then why did you change your name?” she whispered hoarsely.
“I’ll tell you that and a lot of other things when the time is right. You know, we have a lot of catching up to do, Adrienne, but not here at work.”
“Really?” Adrienne asked, incredulous. “I think when you sleep with a woman and don’t pick up the phone to call her for the next seventeen years, she is entitled to an explanation as soon as you run into her.” Adrienne couldn’t keep the sarcasm and hurt from spilling out of her voice. She felt overcome by the memories.
Lloyd recoiled as though someone had socked him in the jaw. “Oh, no, Adrienne! It wasn’t like that. Jesus!” he said, staring at her intently. “Is that what you’ve been thinking all these years?” He knelt in front of her chair. “Adrienne, I had to leave. Don’t you remember? I had to spend time in a group home until I turned eighteen. You didn’t know me then, but I was a very angry, bitter young man after my experiences there. But I never forgot your kindness all those years ago, never. A lot of times it was the memory of you and your family that kept me going.”
“Oh, LaMar!” Adrienne said sadly.
He reached up and patted her shoulder. “Now I’ve upset you, and I didn’t mean to.” His voice grew brighter. “I’m so very happy that our paths have crossed again.”
Adrienne managed a bewildered smile. “I’m glad to see you, too.” I guess, she thought.
And then they hugged.
Adrienne tried to reconcile the man who now held her with the boy he had once been. Things at PW&E had certainly grown more interesting now that the new president had arrived.
PART TWO
QUICKSAND
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Mel was driving the M15 bus going east across 125th Street. He braked to a stop in front of the Grant Housing Projects on Amsterdam Avenue and sighed as he lowered the steps for two blue-haired old ladies. One of them had a cane, but instead of paying attention to where she was going, she busily chatted to the other. The cane slipped, and she fell slightly forward. Mel helped her into a seat and was rewarded with a smile. The other woman settled in next to her, and Mel was back on the road again, wondering if his mother would have needed a cane in her old age. It was something he would never know. At the next stop, three teenage girls got on carrying a radio that was blaring. The lyrics were filled with obscenities.
“Turn it off!” Mel said as they dipped their Metro Cards into the slot.
One of them sucked her teeth. The other rolled her eyes.
“I’m not turnin’ my radio off,” said the second one.
“You will or get off the bus,” answered Mel.
“You can’t do that,” said the first one. “We already paid.”
They walked toward the back of the bus, the music still booming. Mel shut the engine off and spoke to his passengers over the loudspeaker. “We will sit here until either that radio is turned off or a police car pulls up to find out why I’m not moving.” He pulled out a newspaper and pretended to read. Within seconds, hot angry words flew at the girls from the impatient passengers. A male voice shouted, “Don’t y’all know today is Valentine’s Day? If I’m late gettin’ to my woman over on Fifth Avenue, somebody’s ass is mine!”
Suddenly there was no more music. Mel grinned and turned the ignition. The ride was smooth until he hit Lenox Avenue. A long line of people was waiting for the bus, and he sighed as they filed on. Soon there would be standing room only. A woman got on pushing two small girls ahead of her. When she looked up to put her money in the slot, her eyes met Mel’s. He gulped and wished he could make himself invisible.
“Hi, Lillian. Are those your kids?”
