Touchdown: A Quick Snap Novella Read online

  “Hi, Jasmine,” Tommy, a sweet eight-year-old, calls out and gives me a shy wave as he sits at the back of the group. He hasn’t been here long, and so he’s still cautiously quiet, but saying hello is new and I’ll take it.

  “Hey, everyone, I hope you’ve all had a restful week,” I say softly, opening the book in my lap. “Well, by my calculations, you have around an hour thirty until lunch, so let’s see where Charlie has gotten to with his golden ticket,” I say, smiling before opening Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and reading until lunch.

  “Thanks, Jasmine. They loved their time with you as they do every week,” Tina says as I pack up the books, organizing them so I know they’ll be there ready for next week.

  “Well, they give me so much more than I give them,” I answer, looking up from my bag and smiling.

  “Hey, Tina, have you seen Jill? She said she was supposed to be popping over here?”

  I recognize the voice and when I look up, I notice the pink strands in her hair as we lock eyes, and we both speak at once.”

  “Hey.”

  “Hi.”

  “You were at the private function in Carbis last night, right? You shoved a dessert in Solomon’s lap.” She giggles lightheartedly.

  My cheeks flush. “I didn’t mean to do that,” I reply.

  “No, but you didn’t have a problem calling him out for being an ass.” She winks at me. “Got to say, you did make me laugh. Solomon is hot, but he knows it. To be fair, though, the girls do fall at his feet.”

  “Yeah, well, his dismissive tone annoyed me,” I answer defensively.

  She holds her hands up. “Hey, I’m with you.” She offers me a secretive smile. “Are you leaving?”

  “Yeah, I just finished.” I point to the books. “I read to the kids every week.”

  “I thought I recognized you, but I couldn’t put my finger on where from. Come on, I’ll walk you out,” she says, walking by my side. “What’s your name?”

  “Jasmine. And you’re Mrs. Montgomery,” I state.

  She smiles softly, “it’s just Meg. You know, you made quite the impact on Sol.”

  I frown at her.

  “When you didn’t come back, he asked around for you. Finally, another waiter said he’d seen you in the parking lot, so he rushed out there. I guess he didn’t like what he saw because when he came back, he was dragging another dude with blood on his face.” She smiles at me again as we walk out and stand in front of the elevators. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Solomon happens to drop into Carbis sometime soon.” I groan at her admission and she smiles again. “My advice?”

  I frown, seeing as I haven’t asked for advice.

  “Don’t fight it,” she continues. “When these guys set their sights on you, it’s game over.” She shrugs. “Anyway, I’ll see you soon.” She winks conspiratorially and walks off back into the teen ward.

  I feel odd, like I’ve completely missed something. Shrugging, I step into the elevator taking the journey down and the few steps out of the hospital until my head is back on straight.

  I walk to the local thrift store and smile at the owner Sally.

  “Hey doll, how are you today?” she asks.

  “I’m good, Sally, you got anything new?” I ask.

  She reaches behind her, pulls out a bag and empties the contents onto the counter.

  “We have three men’s sweaters. Two pairs of sneakers… they’d do for men or women, but they’re more sized for men,” she explains lifting them up from the floor. “There are two women’s sweaters, a pair of jeans and two coats. I also have a couple of kid’s coats. Anything you want?”

  I look at all the items which are in really good condition. Some of it looks like it could be new and I wonder why people throw this stuff out.

  “It all looks good,” I answer. “Let me have a look around, though,” I murmur before wandering the shop.

  I have been coming to Sally’s thrift store every week for quite a while, so I already know most of the stuff on the shelves, but I always take a moment to look around just in case. I spot a pair of tall black boots, they’re clearly leather, and they look brand new. I pick them up and run my fingertips along the length of them. I check, and of course, they’re my size. I only have two pairs of shoes. Well, one pair of worn black shoes I use for work, and a pair of Converse I picked up here and selfishly decided to keep. They’re over a year old now, well, a year from when I bought them and they’re a little worse for wear as I had to glue the soles to keep them wearable.

  I sigh as I spot the price, fifteen dollars, and I understand why Sally didn’t include these in her weekly finds. She knows why I come in here, and these boots are not on the list of stuff I go for, but to be sure I check my purse—twenty-two dollars and fifteen cents.

  “Sally, how much for the whole pile?” I shout across the shop.

  “For you… fifteen dollars for the lot.”

  I smile, and place the boots back on the shelf, giving them one last longing look before walking back to the counter and placing my hand on the pile of clothes. “I’ll take them.”

  “Hey guys,” I mumble pushing my way in through the back door.

  “Girl, you best get your ass over here,” Wanda demands, and I walk straight into her arms, like I do every week. I release my breath, my shoulders drop, and I feel safe. It’s the only time I feel like this. Wanda was my mom’s best friend. Last year my mom died, and Wanda got me through it, although technically she already had me. I grew up with my mom. Actually, it was my mom and Wanda. They lived together, and I’m pretty sure they were a couple, but neither ever spoke about it.

  They both hated the way I live, scrambling for everything and making every last dollar stretch to a ridiculous extent. But they never had the money to send me to college, and I wasn’t smart enough to get a full ride. So, waitressing is where I became stuck. I step back, out of her arms and look up at her wrinkled face. She’s sixty-one now, her afro hair is still almost black with only slithers of gray sprinkled in it and her warm brown eyes don’t age at all.

  “Child, what have you been buying now?” she asks, gesturing to my bulging backpack. I pull the items out and hand them to her.

  “Can you use it?”

  She squeezes my forearm. “You ask me the same question every week, and every week you get the same answer. We can always make use of this stuff.” She looks through the window into the hall which is being set up for dinner. “God knows more people come through those doors every week.”

  “What do you want me to do?” I ask.

  “Can you take over the mashed potatoes from Kenzie? That girl means well, but she ain’t no cook.”

  “Of course.” I smile and walk over to Kenzie. She’s around my age, maybe a year or so younger than my twenty-two years and she’s sweet, but where I’m clumsy, she’s clueless. She has literally no common sense. She helps out here at the homeless shelter because she’s trying to build up her community service for her university application.

  Me, I’ve been helping out at this shelter since I was seven. You see, Mom and Wanda hate that I live on the poverty line, but it’s all I ever knew. They ran this place long before I came along, and it’s natural for me to continue living this way. Honestly, though, I’d really love to study to be a social worker, to try and help people before their situation gets so desperate, they end up here. But no matter how hard I try, I can’t afford college. I pay my bills, of which, thankfully, I don’t have many and somehow, I manage to save thirty dollars a week, but I know that will never be enough to put myself through college. I’ve found an online course that will at least help me to get into that line of work. It’s basic social care and administration, and it costs three thousand dollars, of which I have half the money I need saved as of last week.

  I spot Katherine, one of the people who visit the shelter almost every day with her two kids. “Can you finish up?” I ask Kenzie, who nods before I wander over to the small family. “Hey kids, you wanna help me w
ith this word search?” The two children, Oscar is ten and Cole’s twelve, nod enthusiastically. I’ve been chatting to Katherine over the last couple of years. Her husband got really ill and unfortunately, after a lengthy stay in hospital, he eventually passed away. He had a pitiful level of insurance, so she was left with a ton of medical bills, and as a stay at home mom, she had no income. Katherine now works three jobs so she can pay the medical expenses, which allows her around four hours sleep, and an hour to bring the kids here each day for food. I’m pretty sure it’s the only meal those kids get, so I make sure each night she gets three packed lunches to take away.

  The kids scurry over, and Katherine sends me an exhausted smile as she wonders over to the tatty sofa we have in an open area which nobody ever uses. She sits and drops her head back and I know in about five minutes she’ll be asleep.

  Chapter 3

  Solomon

  “Dude, you’re killing me out there.”

  I pull the towel around my neck and rub the water from it as I jump out of the shower.

  “Huh? What the fuck are you on about?” I ask Brax, my teammate, and another defensive player like me.

  “How many leg presses did you do?”

  I shrug, I don’t know what he means by killing him, neither of us should be doing leg work the day before a game. He needs to shut the hell up before coach hears him.

  “Something on your mind… or someone?” Will, our quarterback, asks with a smirk.

  “Don’t know what you mean, bro,” I murmur, pulling my white tank over my chest and securing my jeans. I tug on my hoodie and brush my hair. It’s getting too long—I need to get to the barbershop and get it shaved.

  “Uh-huh. You know Meg recognizes her.”

  That gets my attention, and I stop packing my bag to look at him. “How?” I grunt out.

  “Your girl, Jasmine, she goes to the hospital once a week. She reads to the kids.” I smile, I knew she was good people. “So, you going to find her?” he questions me.

  I look at him and debate about how much to say. “Tomorrow, after the game.”

  Will nods and slaps my back. “The chase can be fun, but it can also be a bitch.” He winks, grabs his bag and walks off.

  “You know your sister will be pissed,” Brax murmurs when the others have gone.

  “There’s nothing to be pissed at,” I reply.

  “Not yet.” He smirks and walks off too.

  I sit my ass on the bench and run my hand down my face. “Fuck it,” I snap at nobody. Grabbing my bag, I head out to my car.

  “Solomon, is that you?” my sister Evelyn calls as I let myself into her house.

  “Yeah, whatcha cooking?” I shout back.

  “You ever think of anything but food? For that matter, you ever come to see your big sister for anything other than to fill your stomach?”

  I chuckle, drop my bag, and walk into the kitchen. “Mmm,” I sniff the air, picking up a lid off one of the pans. “Pot roast,” I murmur.

  Evelyn smacks my hand away as I put the lid back on the pot. “Yes, with macaroni cheese and green beans. I rub my hands together and take a seat on the kitchen stool while she busies herself finishing the food.

  My mind wanders to Jasmine. I don’t do this, I don’t get distracted by pretty young things, but there’s something about this one which isn’t allowing me to let it go.

  “Where’s your mind at?” my sister questions.

  I open my mouth to tell her about Jasmine, but I stop myself. My sister is, for all intents and purposes my mom, and she’s protective. Especially since I was first drafted and started to make serious money.

  “Nowhere.” I shake my head.

  Evelyn eyes me curiously because she knows when I’m lying. Still, she doesn’t push, instead she dishes up and we sit at the kitchen bar and plow through all the food.

  “How’s things?” I ask.

  My sister hasn’t had the easiest life and now at the age of thirty-six, lives alone in a big old house, keeping herself busy with her catering business and her online world of friends. That’s right, my sister has friends, only they’re online and she likes to keep them right there, at arm’s length. The only friend she has who lives nearby is Reba, and that bitch is crazy.

  “Good actually.” She looks at me, but her gaze quickly drops to the worktop like she’s embarrassed.

  “What is it?” My hackles rise.

  She shrugs. “I met someone.”

  My chest deflates. “Is that all? Why’re you hanging your head then?” I challenge her.

  My sister shrugs again. “I know how I am with the hoes you bring home.”

  I take a deep breath in through my nose letting out a slow exhale. “Apart from Sara…” I shrink back as Evelyn narrows her eyes on me. We don’t talk about Sara. Ever. “I’ve brought one girl home, once.”

  “Once was enough,” she replies, completely bypassing the mention of Sara.

  “Alisha was at one of your parties,” I tease, knowing I’m pushing her buttons, and moving the conversation into safer territory.

  “Damn fool I was to invite that girl. Pfft!” She takes a slug of wine and shakes her head. “She seemed good, seemed like she had her head screwed on.”

  I chuckle. “Until you found her helping herself to your jewelry.”

  “Crazy ho,” she grumbles while forking more food into her mouth.

  I smile down at my now empty plate. I know my sister only wants to see me settled, but only if it’s with someone she chooses. Honestly, though, I haven’t felt the need or want to settle. I’m only twenty-five and fully focused on football.

  “Well, Reba—”

  “No,” I cut her off. She’s been trying to get her crazy-assed best friend and me together for the last two years.

  “What? Reba’s all woman,” she continues, pushing it.

  I shake my head, deciding not to answer verbally.

  Evelyn’s not wrong, Reba has a curvy body with a full ass and tits to match, smooth chocolate skin and a blinding smile, but she doesn’t do it for me and my sister hates that fact.

  “Fine,” she huffs. What are your plans today?” she asks, changing the subject.

  “I’m gonna hit up Benny’s then head home for an early night.”

  “Gameday tomorrow.” She smiles and I nod in reply.

  Standing, I rinse my plate and hers loading them both into the dishwasher. I kiss her forehead and grab my keys. “See you next week,” I shout as I walk out the door and jog down the three steps to my car.

  “Solomon, my brother, it’s been too long since you stopped by,” Benny complains as I walk in the barbershop. Carlos and Ed greet me as I walk past them and head over to my usual chair. “What you been doing, trying to grow a hightop?” he teases once I sit and pull my ball cap off. “You know padding isn’t gonna save your head from a bad tackle,” he states, patting my overgrown fro. “At this rate your big head won’t fit in the helmet.” He laughs at his joke and the others join in, looking over at my hair. It’s not that bad, I mean I don’t look like Kid from ‘Kid ‘n Play’ just yet. Still, I rub my hand over my hair, feeling how overgrown it really is.

  “You want a shave, Son?” he asks, even though my answer is always the same.

  “Please, Benny.”

  I sit and listen to him for the next thirty minutes. This place relaxes me. I’ve come here since I was a child, since before my mom died. It’s one of the few places where I can be myself.

  “Thanks, Benny,” I call out after he’s finished, making my way to the door.

  I’m about to head out to my car when I spot a short, sexy, pixie looking woman. The woman from the other night. Jasmine, Will called her. She’s walking beside an older woman with a gentle face. They seem close as Pixie smiles up at the other woman.

  “You stuck, Son? You trying to stop customers coming in the door?” Benny chuckles and I realize I am actually blocking the door, so I sidestep. “What’s got you frozen?” I assume his eyes follow the li
ne of my gaze as he chuckles. “That’s Miss Wanda.”

  I finally tear my eyes away as they walk around the corner and out of sight. “Miss Wanda?” I question.

  “Wanda Daniels. She runs that there place.” He nods toward a building across the road.

  My gaze moves back to the door they exited from. “King’s Hope Shelter,” I murmur.

  “Mm-hmm,” he replies. “Pours all her time into it, too. Especially since they lost Teresa.”

  I turn toward him. “Teresa?”

  He frowns, seemingly wondering why I want to know, but then with a shrug, he explains, “The young lady with Miss Wanda… well, Teresa was her momma. Died last year.”

  My stomach drops, I know how hard it is losing your mom.

  “Ran the place together. From what I heard they lived together, too. Spect they were more than friends, but you know, folks don’t like talking about things like that.”

  I raise my eyebrow. “What people being gay?”

  He shrugs. “Not one to care myself, but some people are that way.”

  “Yeah, small-minded bigots,” I answer with a snap. “Anyway, how would you know?” I question, slightly softer this time. It’s not Benny’s fault people are assholes.

  “Liked Wanda, she shot me down.”

  I drop my head back on a groan and close my eyes for a second before looking back at him. “So, you determined, from her shooting you down, that she must be gay? Maybe she just didn’t like yo fat ass,” I reply and the others in the shop all chuckle.

  He puts his hand on my shoulder. “She’s lovely, Miss Wanda, but let an old man tell you, she ain’t into the snake between our legs.”

  “Dude.”

  “Benny.”