“Yeah, but you didn’t have to do it. You didn’t have to do everything you’ve done to help me. I just want you to know that I appreciate you, and I’m so thankful that you are my mother.”

  “Stop, Jon-Jon. You are going to make me cry. I need to get this website up and running and I really don’t know what I’m doing.”

  Jon-Jon leaned forward, picked up his mother’s laptop, and set it in front of him. “I took a web design class in college. I can help you with this.”

  “Now I’m really about to cry. I can’t remember a time when you volunteered to help me with anything. Remember how you used to run out of the room if I asked you to get me a glass of water or take a plate back to the kitchen for me?”

  “Mom, I was ten.”

  “And now you’re twenty and growing all up on me.”

  The phone rang. Trish looked at the caller ID, but no name registered on the display. Before Jon-Jon’s accident, she would have let the call go to voice mail, but receiving that call from the hospital changed everything for her. You never know when someone might need help. If it was a scammer on the other end, she would just hang up. “Hello?”

  “Hello, this is Joseph Ridgeway. Can I speak with John Robinson, please?”

  She handed Jon-Jon the phone. “It’s for you.”

  After saying, “This is John Robinson,” Jon-Jon spent the next few minutes nodding and giving a couple of mmm-hmms and “Yes, that sounds great.” Finally, he said, “I’ll speak to my parents and get back to you.”

  Jon-Jon was big-cheesing as he hung up the phone. He turned to his mom. “He’s entering a judgment in my favor.”

  Jumping out of her seat, Trish hugged her son. “That’s wonderful, Jon-Jon.” As she sat back down, she said, “Tell me the amount. But tell it to me slowly, because if it’s less than the hundred thousand you would have received from the insurance company, I’ll be fit to be tied and ready for a fight.”

  “But you do your fighting on your knees, remember?”

  She had told her son praying about a situation was like taking the fight to God and letting Him go to battle for us so many times as he grew up, but she never knew if he listened or believed her. Trish popped her fingers. “You got that right.”

  Tears wet Jon-Jon’s face as he said, “The awarded amount is seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars. I have to sign off on it, but I told him I would speak with you and Dad first.”

  “Woot! Woot!” Trish stood up and started dancing as if a sweet melody was playing in her head. “With that kind of money, you can go back to school, get your degree, and start a business. That way you’ll have something of your own.”

  “Mom,” his voice was full of emotion as he wiped the tears from his face. “I’ll be able to take care of Marquita and Moochie like a man, Mama, like a man.”

  Crying with him, she leaned over and hugged him. “You are a man, Jon-Jon, and I’m so proud of you.”

  “I can’t wait for Dad to get home so I can tell him about it. I just hope he’s okay with it. I’m tired of watching y’all struggle while trying to take care of me and these hospital bills.”

  “Are they covering your hospital bills?”

  Jon-Jon nodded. “They will cover the hospital bills for the next three years.”

  * * *

  Later that night when Dwayne arrived home, he looked tired and worn out. He put a bag of Sour Patch Kids candy on the kitchen counter and said, “Where’s my sour patch?”

  “Just shaking my head. Just shaking my head.” Trish scooped up the bag of candy. “It’s sugar patch, Dwayne. I’m too sweet to be sour,” she said with her lip poked out.

  “Then why you look like you’re sucking on sour lemons?” Frustration showed on his face as he said, “My bad. I got the phrase wrong, but I got the candy right. So, it’s all good.”

  “Oh, it’s better than good in this hood,” Trish exploded with excitement. “Go check on Jon-Jon, he’s got something to tell you.”

  Trish stayed in the kitchen to eat a few of her Sour Patch Kids candies. She heard Dwayne say, “Are you serious? Don’t play with me. Tell me the truth.”

  “It’s real, Dad. All I have to do is sign the papers.”

  Trish walked over to Jon-Jon’s room and stood in the doorway as tears rolled down Dwayne’s face. He hugged his son. “Now, I don’t want you spending this money like you’re some baller. If you make the right money moves, this could set you and Moochie up for a good future.”

  They talked a little while longer. Then Trish went to her room and got ready for bed. She was about to turn the light out and let her head hit the pillow when Dwayne said, “How was your day, Trish?”

  She thought about that for a moment, then smiled. “I had a good day.”

  “Mine wasn’t too bad either.”

  “I’m thankful, because there’s a lot less stress around here, even with a fuller house.” Trish positioned herself on her side.

  Dwayne went into the closet, then came back carrying a gift bag. “I know your birthday isn’t until next month, but I bought you something.”

  Sitting up, Trish took the bag from her husband. She could feel her eyes growing wide with wonder. It had been a while since they had extra money to purchase gifts for each other. “When did you buy this?”

  “Stop with all the questions, woman.” He pointed at the bag. “Open it.”

  The box had some weight to it, so she knew it wasn’t lingerie, even though she would have enjoyed having another nightgown. Putting her hand in the bag, she pulled out a deep-tissue therapeutic hand-held massager. “Oh, Dwayne, how on earth did you know I needed something like this?”

  “I’ve watched you crack that neck of yours so many times that I’ve been worried it was going to fall off,” Dwayne joked.

  Like a giddy kid at Christmas time, Trish jumped up and down. “Plug it up for me.” She pointed at a spot on her neck. “I need that thing right now.”

  Dwayne opened the box, pulled out the hand-held device, and plugged it up. Turning it on, he ran it across Trish’s neck and upper back.

  “Aww, now that feels like heaven.”

  “I thought you’d like it.”

  She didn’t just like it. This was better than a nightgown. It was giving her new life. Trish shimmied her shoulders when he finished. “Thank you, babe.”

  They climbed into bed. Dwayne moved close to his wife, then pulled her into his arms. “Anything for my baby.”

  As Trish’s eyes closed, she snuggled up to her man, loving the warmth that he brought into her life. Silently, she prayed, Thank You for my husband, Lord. Keep speaking to his heart so we can grow more in love each and every day.

  Chapter 27

  Parking her car, Marquita was feeling good. She’d now been on her job for two weeks, and this was the tenth straight day that she had arrived to work on time. Jon-Jon was taking her out to celebrate after his physical therapy appointment.

  Breathing a sigh of relief, she looked at the clock on her dashboard. She had made it to work with ten minutes to spare. She turned off her car and used her cell phone to pipe music through her car. A few of her brown-nosing coworkers walked past her car glancing over at her as if she was doing something wrong.

  She wanted to roll down her window and tell them to run on into work and collect their brownie points for being ten minutes early. Marquita didn’t care what they did, as long as they stopped staring at her while she danced to the music in her car. How was that their business?

  Eve, the dark-haired, blue-eyed devil who sat in the cubicle across from hers, got out of her car. She stood in the parking lot for a moment, putting her hands on her hips as she stared into Marquita’s car and shook her head.

  “What?” Marquita shouted at her.

  Eve turned away, strutting into the building like she was running things and was about to be late for a meeting.

  These white girls on this job were a trip. They were working this low-skill job, just like she was, but they acted like they were so much better, like they had stock in the company and owned fabulous homes. Maybe they did. People like that got a lot further in this country than she ever would. Truthfully, Marquita didn’t care if they owned the whole wide world. She just wanted them to mind their own business. Whatever. She only had four hours to deal with these people and then she would be hanging out with Jon-Jon and Moochie.

  After doing a sing-a-long for the third time, Marquita turned off her music, got out of her car, and rushed into the building. If she didn’t get in there in the next minute, she would be late, and nobody was going to accuse her of being late. She practically had to shove one of her coworkers out of the way so she could get to her desk. “Dang girl, why you always standing around, getting in the way?”

  The girl looked at her, but didn’t respond and didn’t get out of the way.

  What is wrong with these people? Why do they congregate in the halls, holding onto their coffee mugs and yapping it up when they should be working? Marquita put her purse on her desk, sat down, and turned on the computer. “Bring on the customers.” Putting her headset on, she was ready for the day to begin.

  Before receiving her first call, her supervisor peeked her head into her cubicle. “Can I speak to you for a minute?”

  Marquita glanced around to see if another coworker was in her direct vicinity, sticking their nose in her business, before taking her headset off. She didn’t know why she was being called to the office. The way Marquita saw it, she had been coming to work on time. She was being nice and helpful to each customer as they called into the office. So what could be the problem?

  Sitting down in her supervisor’s office, which was more like two cubicles put together with high walls and a door, she wanted to say, “I didn’t do it—and don’t blame me for something I did not do.” Instead, she sat down and waited to hear what her supervisor had to say.

  The woman stared at Marquita for a long moment. There was a quizzical expression on her face. “I can’t figure you out,” she said. “You come to work on time, you’re getting good ratings with the customers, but I’ve received so many complaints about you from your coworkers.”

  “Ah, they’re just some haters.” Marquita rolled her eyes as those words flew out of her mouth.

  The supervisor shook her head. “During orientation, we tried to express how important being a team player is. Some of your coworkers don’t feel comfortable approaching you.”

  Marquita thought back to orientation. It was her first day on the job, and she was excited to be in an office setting for the first time in her working life. The orientation was a little dry, so she missed some of the information they provided. Even so, she didn’t understand this at all.

  “Also, this noise you’re making in the parking lot is causing a public nuisance.”

  “How can playing music inside my car be a nuisance?”

  “It’s loud, and I have reports that when some of our workers look at you, trying to signal that what you’re doing is out of order, instead of turning it down, you sing even louder than your music was already playing.”

  “They were just being nosy, staring in my car, like I’m loitering on the property or something.”

  The supervisor put an elbow on the desk and leaned forward. “We like working with team players, so if you can’t find a way to get along with your coworkers, I’ll have to let you go.”

  “Because of my music?”

  The supervisor shook her head. “No, because you are creating a hostile environment with the way you treat some of your coworkers.”

  Eyes wide, she straightened in her seat. “What! But I just started working here. Can’t you give me a warning?” Marquita’s eyes filled with tears. How could she lose this job when she did as Trish said? She’d come to work on time and she’d treated her customers right.

  “This is your verbal warning, Marquita. The customers give you good ratings, but you’re not even making an effort to connect with your coworkers.”

  Marquita felt awful as she drove home. Well, it was more like her temporary home. Mr. Dwayne expected her to become independent and get her own place soon. How could she do that if she only worked part-time and was about to get fired?

  If it wasn’t for Moochie, she would give up. But her son deserved the best, and she and Jon-Jon were going to give it to him. She just had to figure out a way to keep her job. Marquita wished she could talk to her mom about things like this, but her mother had never been able to keep a job either. She decided that she was going to tell Trish the truth and see if she could help her figure out how to keep her job.

  She walked into the house, took Moochie out of Jon-Jon’s arms, and got an instant attitude. “He’s wet. I hope we’re not going to be late for your appointment, because I’ve got to change Moochie and clean him up since he soaked through his clothes.”

  Jon-Jon pointed at the items on his bed. “I’m getting them together now. I’ve got all of his stuff on my bed, and I was getting ready to change him before you stormed in here acting like Super Nanny.”

  “Well, I don’t like being late.”

  “Since when?”

  Rolling her eyes, like he was irritating her, she said, “Since I started this job. Not that it matters to anyone.”

  “We have an hour before my appointment, so Moochie not being ready is not why you came in here with this stank attitude. Something else is up, so spill it.”

  She folded her arms across her chest. “I got a verbal warning today, okay? So let’s just cancel the date, because I’m not in the mood to celebrate a job I might not have very much longer.”

  “What you get a warning for?”

  Marquita felt a headache coming on. She had done her best, and her best wasn’t good enough. She heard a noise outside Jon-Jon’s room. Trish was in the kitchen. “Let me talk to your mom for a minute.” She handed Moochie back to him and then went into the kitchen with Trish.

  Trish was warming a bottle at the stove.

  Marquita walked up on her. “Why you always warming the bottles in a pot of hot water? I put that bottle in the microwave and get it over with.”

  Trish smiled at Marquita. “I know all about this microwave generation. Y’all want everything to happen in an instant, but like the good Lord says, ‘Better is the end of a thing than the beginning . . . and the patient in spirit is better than the proud in spirit.’”

  “Ms. Trish, do you really believe all that stuff? For me it just seems like the harder I try, the more I get knocked down.” Marquita pulled out a stool and sat down at the kitchen counter. She put her elbow on the counter and her hand under her chin as she pouted.

  Trish turned off the fire and removed the bottle from the water. “You had a bad day?”

  Marquita’s lip twisted. “I got a verbal warning. My supervisor says I’m getting good ratings from my customers, but my coworkers keep complaining about me.”

  “Give me your arm.” Marquita stretched out her arm, and Trish sprinkled some of the baby’s milk on her arm.

  “Too hot.”

  Trish sat the bottle on the kitchen counter. “We’ll let it rest a bit. Let’s talk.” Trish sat at the counter with Marquita. “Now, tell me why you think your coworkers are having problems with you.”

  “They say I play my music too loud, but I’m in my car, minding my own business. I’m just listening to a little music before I go into work.”

  “Is that the only complaint they have?”

  Scrunching her nose like she smelled something foul, Marquita said, “They think I’m rude.”

  “I wonder why.” Trish started laughing.

  “This isn’t funny, Ms. Trish. I’ve really been trying to be a good employee. I don’t understand why I can’t get it right.”

  “You’re young, Marquita. You are going to make mistakes, but you have to learn how to take constructive criticism. As they say, Rome wasn’t built in a day.”

  “Who says that? I’ve never heard that.”

  “Okay, keep on reminding me how young you and Jon-Jon are.” Trish laughed again. Then she added, “One of my favorite scriptures in the Bible is out of Galatians. It says, ‘And let us not be weary in well doing: for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not.’”

  “But those people are getting in my business and going behind my back to the supervisor.”

  “Remember our talk about respecting others?”

  Marquita was about to say something else about them nosy coworkers, but it wasn’t going to be respectful at all. So she said, “I have been very respectful to the customers who call into the company. My boss even gave me props about that.”

  “So, you’re making progress. Pat yourself on the back, pray about what else needs to change, and then work on that. But don’t give up.”

  Marquita stood and grabbed the baby’s bottle. “Got it. Rome wasn’t built in a day.”

  * * *

  On Monday morning, Marquita arrived at work about nine minutes before she was scheduled to start. She got out of the car and headed into the building. One of her coworkers got out of her car and started walking beside her.

  “No rap music this morning?” Eve asked.

  Marquita’s eyes narrowed as she looked at the don’t-know-how-to-mind-her-own-business woman. She was getting ready to give Eve a piece of her mind, but she could hear Ms. Trish saying, “Be respectful.” Did she really have to show respect to people who weren’t showing her any?

  “I realized that my music was bothering you all, so I have decided not to play it anymore.”

  “Are you serious?” The expression on her coworker’s face was one of disbelief.

  Marquita ignored the woman and made it to her desk. She put her purse down, turned on her computer, and pulled out her headset. She had about seven minutes before the phone bank would receive calls. What was she supposed to do, sit there and stare at the walls?

  Eve came over to her desk. Marquita braced herself, because if this chick came at her again, it was on. “What can I do for you, Eve?”

  Eve put a novel on her desk. “When I come in early, I usually read. I just finished this novel, so if you want to read it, you’re more than welcome to it.”