“Well, it’s just a first date. I didn’t want to wear my fatherhood on my sleeve.”

  And scare away a potential mother, I thought.

  “I admire a man who’s takes responsibility for his children.”

  “Being a single parent is pretty stressful.”

  “How many children do you have?”

  “One. I started to say, only one. But, hey, one is a handful.”

  “Girl or boy?”

  “An eight-year-old girl.”

  “That’s a nice age. What’s her name? Do you have a picture?”

  “Brianna. And, no I don’t have a picture with me,” Skylar said, almost apologetically.

  “You’re a single father and you don’t carry pictures,” I marveled.

  “I have a couple in my other wallet. Besides, I didn’t plan to bore you all evening, talking about my kid.”

  “I wouldn’t be bored. I love kids.”

  “Do you have any?”

  “No, that’s why I love ’em.”

  “I hear you. You think you’ll ever have any?” Skylar asked.

  I felt a pang of guilt as I flashed on my abortion. I looked away, sipped my wine and paused thoughtfully. “I’ve thought about adopting, but I don’t think I want to raise a child alone. But if I happened to …”

  “If you happened to what?”

  “You know …”

  “If you happened to meet someone who had a child or children already, you’d be open to it?”

  “Well, yeah, maybe I’d be open to it,” I answered cautiously. “But I’m not really looking for instant family.”

  Skylar cleared his throat. “Well, I’m not shopping for a mother for my child, if that’s what you think.” He sounded defensive.

  “I didn’t mean to make it appear like I thought you were,” I stammered.

  “I’m just looking for some connection. I’m not trying to put my daughter off on anybody. I want to make that clear.”

  “I didn’t feel that you were. In fact, I find it appealing that you have a child,” I admitted to myself as much as to Skylar.

  “Well, you should be aware that there’s a downside.”

  “There’s a downside to almost everything,” I said, and sipped my wine.

  Skylar gulped his water. “I can’t always do things at the drop of a hat. I have to arrange child care. And sometimes my daughter is sick, or she has to go to an activitiy. It can be complicated.”

  “I bet. But I’m sure it’s worth all the hassle. Your daughter’s probably a daddy’s girl.”

  “I wouldn’t say so. I was happy to have a girl, but I didn’t want a daddy’s girl. I have a good friend like that. I mean, her father spoiled her rotten. She followed three boys, so you can imagine. But in the end I think it was detrimental to Lisa. In fact, it crippled her. She lacks a certain confidence and inner strength that I think is important to have out here in the world. And she has consistently picked the wrong men. None of them can measure up to Daddy. I’m trying to raise my daughter to be able to stand on her own two feet. But it’s really hard when you’re trying to do it all by yourself.” Skylar paused. “I mean it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done, including passing the California bar exam.”

  I nodded sympathetically, but underneath I felt disappointed. Feeling sorry for my date just wasn’t my idea of a romantic evening. I wanted to first get to know Skylar the romantic lover. Later for Skylar the overwhelmed single father. Besides, when did parenting become the hardest job in the world? When I was growing up, it just seemed like something people did, almost on automatic pilot. Nobody talked about parenting being so hard back in the sixties. Not even mothers, who had the brunt of it. I remembered relatives remarking about how easy Mrs. So-and-So had it because she only had one child. “Imagine only having to take care of one child?” they marveled. Nowadays, even people with one child can feel totally whupped.

  “Isn’t being a parent rewarding, though?” I asked, feeling like I was playing devil’s advocate.

  “Absolutely,” Skylar said. He licked tomato sauce off his lips. “It’s the most rewarding thing I’ve ever done. Brianna’s a great kid. But she deserves two involved parents.”

  Hint, hint, I couldn’t help but think. The hell if he’s not shopping around for a mama. “Where’s Brianna’s mother?”

  “In Indianapolis, living with her mother. That’s why we’re in Chicago. I wanted Brianna to be closer to Allison, but so far it hasn’t made much difference.”

  “Doesn’t Brianna see her mother?”

  “Not enough.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Her mother loves her in her own way.” Skylar sighed. “But she’s got some problems. Allison’s life is pretty untogether right now. She got injured in a car accident. She’s almost recovered now, but she lost her job, got depressed and fell in love with painkillers. It’s another story.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. That’s sad.”

  “Yep, it’s really sad for Brianna. Allison’s not there for her the way she should be.”

  “Well, I’m glad that Brianna has you.”

  “I never thought I’d end up having to play Mr. Mom.” He sighed again. “Anyway, I didn’t plan to spin a tale of woe tonight. I really did want us to have a nice, relaxing, candlelight dinner.”

  “Well, we almost did,” I said, smiling ruefully.

  Skylar and I had definite chemistry going for us. A couple of days later, I was still vibing on the good-night kiss that he laid on my lips after we parted at the restaurant. But I managed to get behind a mike and get down with the blues, same as if nobody had paid me or my lips any recent attention.

  “I’m playing some blues that y’all can use tonight. I tell you, folks scared of the blues. They think the blues’ll bring ’em down. But the truth is, sometimes you can be so far down that only the blues can bring you up. I know when I’m depressed I wanna hear ’bout somebody worse off than I am. So I turn to the blues. And if I listen long enough, I guarantee you I’ll hear ’bout somebody more pitiful than me. And I get to feeling that my burden ain’t so heavy after all.” You’re good, I told myself.

  “The blues are ’bout sucking the marrow out the bone,” I continued. “See, the blues ain’t ’bout being proper. I know some folks done got too proper for the blues. They’re afraid they might sweat their heads out. Well, that’s what the blues are about. The sho’ ’nuff blues are guaranteed to sho’ ’nuff sweat your head out!

  “Don’t let me get to preachin’, y’all. Don’t let me start. The blues ain’t nothin’ but a pain in yo’ heart.” I leaned closer to the mike and spoke in an intimate tone. “There was a time not long ago when people didn’t need all these pills. Nobody talked about being depressed. Sistas were too busy to have nervous breakdowns. It’s amazing how we used to cope. We turned to the church and we turned to the blues. Some of those same folks that were in the juke joints on Friday and Saturday nights were in the Amen Corner on Sunday mornings. Now some folk have gotten too proper to shout, ‘Laud have mercy on your chile.’ But you know what? Folks weren’t running to a therapist back then, paying a hundred dollars an hour, and they weren’t poppin’ Prozac and Zoloft and St. John’s Wort. The blues used to be the best medicine. The blues used to cure what ailed you.”

  I backed off the mike and raised my voice a little. “The blues are about self-expression. The blues are about confession. The blues are about telling it like it is and letting the chips fall where they may. I’m talkin’ ’bout the sho’ ’nuff blues today. And that’s what I’m fixin’ to play. ‘Meet Me With Yo’ Black Drawers On,’ by Sweet Baby Jai, a favorite diva outta L.A.”

  My shift had ended. I hadn’t had a chance to holler at Freddy on my way up to the control room. I’d been rushing. But I had noticed that he was a couple of shades darker from his days in the Caribbean sun. I was eager to get back up in his face again and hear what was up.

  “Thanks, Freddy,” I said, accepting a colorful, beaded change purse. “That’s so thoughtful of you to bring me back a souvenir.”

  “Now that ain’t for everybody’s eyes,” Freddy warned. “I couldn’t afford to pass out gifts to the whole building.”

  “I understand. I’m flattered. So, did you and your wife have a good time on your cruise?”

  “Had the time of our lives!” Freddy wiped his bald head and the back of his neck. He patted his stomach. “They really feed you good, too. We shoulda swam back, as much as we ate.” He pretended to do the front crawl.

  “Vacations can be hard on relations,” I said, sounding like I was still rhyming on the air. I teased, “You and your wife are still speaking and everything?”

  “We got along like two dumplings in a pot of stew.”

  “Freddy, you’re happily married, huh?”

  “It was twenty-five years in June. And I would do it all over again.”

  “What’s the secret to a happy marriage?” I leaned against the lobby wall.

  Freddy cleared his throat and answered solemnly. “Don’t expect to stay in love.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Look, you can love a person without being in love with ’em.”

  I whispered, “So, you’re not in love with your wife anymore?”

  “After twenty-five years, hell no,” Freddy said, wrinkling his forehead. “And don’t wanna be, neither. I’ve had that in love experience several times in my life. I’ve been on the roller coaster of love. And I enjoyed it. But now I prefer a mellower ride.”

  “So, that’s your secret? Don’t expect to stay in love?”

  “Right, and don’t look for everything in one person.”

  “How do you mean that exactly?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.

  “Now, don’t take this the wrong way. I’ve been a faithful husband. But what I’m trying to say is, no one person can be all things to anybody. For example, my wife ain’t big on conversation. So I don’t look her up when I’m in the mood for a big debate. I talk to you or my sister or my buddy.”

  “Are you saying that everyone has limitations?”

  “Exactly.” Freddy nodded. “And you have to learn to work within those limitations. You don’t try to get gold from no silver mine. The main thing is to have an understanding,” he continued. “Know each other’s bottom line. It’s just like in business. For example, my wife’s bottom line is fidelity. So I’d think long and hard before I would cheat on Grace.”

  “That makes sense. What’s your bottom line?”

  “I need to spell relief, at least a couple times a week.” Freddy winked.

  “I take it that you don’t spell relief with an antacid?”

  “Not at those particular times, I don’t.”

  “I saw a man wearing a T-shirt one time that said, ONCE A WEEK IS NOT ENOUGH!” I smiled.

  “I second that emotion,” Freddy said, stretching his palm out for me to give him five. I slapped his hand. “Anyway,” he continued, “my wife needs to hear me tell her that I love her about twice a week. So it works out pretty well.”

  “Yeah, sounds like you two are pretty compatible.”

  “Yeah. Another one of my bottom lines is knowing where the remote control is at all times. So Grace has bought me three of ’em.” Freddy paused and waved to a man in a trench coat leaving the building. “I’ll give you another example. I love home cooking, and most days my wife obliges.”

  “That’s nice of her.”

  “Well, it’s a two-way street. Grace ain’t crazy ’bout doing laundry or cleaning floors. Ever since our kids moved out, I’ve taken over most of the housework.”

  “Wow, I had no idea that you were so supportive.”

  “Girl, I don’t know what you talking about. I’ve got dishpan hands,” Freddy said, displaying his stubby fingers.

  “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me. But you do need to check out Palmolive,” I teased.

  Freddy walked with me toward my car. “Yeah, we hated to leave paradise.”

  He sighed in the stale, humid, underground air. “It took me awhile to adjust to being back. But you know when I really knew I was back?”

  “When?”

  “When I heard Bay Bay’s kids carryin’ on at the bus stop. That’s when I really knew I was back.”

  “Oh.”

  “It was a damn disgrace, too,” Freddy said, letting out an exasperated sigh. “And it’s so unnecessary for y’all to be so loud and ignorant.”

  I swallowed. “Don’t give me that y’all stuff. I wasn’t there.”

  “It was yo’ people. Anyway, you can’t say nothing to ’em, ’cause they’re liable to pull out a gun and shoot you.” Freddy sighed again. “At least cuss you out.” He shook his head. “Some of the girls are worse than the boys.”

  We stood in front of my car. “Maybe you should try to help out some of these kids who need direction,” I suggested.

  Freddy shook his head. “I’ve helped raise my own kids. I’ve even got a grandbaby to help look out for now. I can’t take responsibility for other folks’ kids who don’t have respect for nobody.”

  “Maybe we need to see them all as our kids,” I said, folding my arms and leaning against my car.

  “I’ll leave that to you. Maybe that’s your calling.” Freddy paused. “Now that I’ve traveled, it’s been proven to me that black children don’t have to be loud and ignorant. That was really my point.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “You should’ve seen how orderly and disciplined the kids were on those islands. I ain’t heard no loud cussing and carrying on whatsoever. Those Caribbean kids in their starched and ironed school uniforms made me feel proud to be of African descent. It was a good feeling, too.”

  “Sounds like it was worth the price of a ticket for that experience alone,” I commented.

  “Have you ever done a home-pregnancy test before?” Tyeesha asked. We stood over the vials waiting for the results.

  I shook my head. “Back in the day, you had to go to a clinic. We didn’t have all these modern conveniences in the sixties and seventies.”

  “Dee Dee, when’s the last time you had sex?” Tyeesha asked, following me outside the bathroom.

  “Sometime back in the seventies,” I teased. “I don’t remember the exact year.”

  “Come on, Dee Dee, be for real! Has it been hecka long?”

  “Never mind,” I said.

  “Why won’t you tell me?” Tyeesha persisted, plopping down on the hallway floor. She looked up at me attentively, like she was about to hear my business.

  “We’re not going there,” I said firmly. I leaned back against the wall across from Tyeesha and folded my arms.

  “If I am pregnant, you think it will make Malik come back to me?” T asked after a pause.

  Malik had gone back to his girlfriend, Rheema, who’d been in St. Louis for the summer. He’d told Tyeesha that it was over between him and Rheema. But I suspected it had just been a case of absence making the heart go yonder.

  “I’m not thinking about Malik. And you don’t need to be, either,” I said, standing over Tyeesha. “The hell with him.” I folded my arms tighter.

  “I was just thinking that maybe that it would be good, you know, if I were pregnant,” Tyeesha said, looking at me with her lost brown eyes. “Because then Malik might come back to me.”

  “Whoa! Have you lost your mind?”

  “It might matter to him, you know, if I was having a baby for him.”

  “Girl, you better come back to your senses. You need a whole new mind-set.” I sat down across from her and held her chin in my hand. “First of all, if this pregnancy test comes up negative, you need to consider yourself having just gotten out of the way of a speeding train. You’re not ready to raise a child, with or without Malik. You are only fifteen years old. You still need to find out who Tyeesha is.” I released her face.

  “Did you know that in many societies it’s accepted for fifteen-year-olds to be mothers? It’s considered normal,” Tyeesha said.

  “Well, you don’t live in many societies,” I reminded Tyeesha. “You live in this society. And in this society it’s hard to raise a child at any age, let alone at a young one. You need a reality check, girl. We don’t have the extended families that we had, even thirty years ago. And you need an education and a half to make it today. A high-school diploma or a G.E.D. isn’t gonna get it.”

  “You still haven’t answered my question about Malik coming back to me if I’m carrying his baby.”

  I sighed. “Malik probably planned to go back to Rheema from the get-go. Think logically, T, she was away for the summer. Haven’t you heard that when the cat’s away, the mice will play?”

  “Malik said they were broken up.”

  “Malik said.” I rolled my eyes.

  “Are you trying to say he was lying?”

  “If a boy wants to get in your pants he’ll tell you a lot of things.” I groaned. “Mainly, he’ll tell you what he thinks you want to hear.”

  “You act like I should never trust a man.”

  “At your age, maybe you shouldn’t. They say it takes a fool to learn that love don’t love nobody.”

  “You act like you never needed a man’s touch.”

  I bristled. “You know that’s not true. I need a man’s touch, all right, but without self-love, it ain’t much. You hear me? It ain’t much.”

  “Do you think Malik is a bad person?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t say he was.”

  “If he used me and then kicked me to the curb, he is a bad person.”

  “Maybe he’s just a teenage boy with raging hormones who did a bad thing. If he didn’t force you, I wouldn’t say he was necessarily a bad person. T, I love you and I want you to feel safe, strong and free. I don’t want to be worried about you getting pregnant or contracting AIDS or gettin’ beat up or anything like that. I just wish you could cherish these years and be a carefree teenager.”

  “A carefree teenager?” Tyeesha smiled ruefully and stood up and headed back into the bathroom.

  “Yeah,” I said, standing up. “But I guess that’s an oxymoron these days,” I called to her. “If you’re smart, it won’t be.”

  “Look, Dee Dee!” Tyeesha exclaimed, from inside the bathroom. “It didn’t turn blue!”