Touchdown: A Quick Snap Novella Read online

  “Sorry,” I hear her whisper before the clicking of her heels tells me she’s leaving.

  When the door shuts, and I hear her car drive away, I pick up the meals Eve brought me over for the week and throw them against the wall.

  Fuck, now my weekly nutrition is ruined too.

  Chapter 8

  Jasmine

  My cell buzzes in my apron. I ignore it again.

  It’s Wednesday night, and I was a coward today. I knew from the multiple texts Solomon sent me he would turn up at noon to collect me, so I made sure I was out. His sister’s words were not his own, I know that, I’m not stupid, but what she thought, it’s what they’ll all think, and I’m not strong enough to be dragged through the media as a gold-digging, trailer trash whore.

  “Hey, you okay? You’ve been off all night,” Latisha asks. She’s one of the waitresses and probably the closest thing I have to a friend. It’s a quiet night, so she’s helping me clear away one of my tables.

  I don’t want to tell her. For some reason I don’t want to admit what happened. I know she’ll think I’m an idiot, but the truth is I don’t feel like an idiot. I feel like when I’m with Solomon I am exactly where I’m supposed to be.

  “I…” Stopping to gather my reckless thoughts I shake my head. “I met someone. It was only a couple of weeks ago, but I can’t stop thinking about him,” I admit and the moment the words leave my mouth the pain crushes my heart.

  “So what? Did he do you wrong? Cheated? Wait… the fool didn’t hit you, did he?” Latisha’s hands find her hips and she purses her lips.

  “No, no, he didn’t do anything wrong actually,” I murmur.

  “Then what’s the issue?” she questions, clearly as confused as I am.

  “His sister—”

  “Ooo, she a bitch?” she cuts me off.

  “No. Yes. I mean… she wasn’t impressed with me. But her opinion is justified,” I explain.

  “Wait, hold up,” she tells me, waving her hand about, her voice rising.

  I look around the restaurant to make sure no one is listening to our conversation, thankfully everyone is engrossed in eating or chatting, and Mrs. Reynolds isn’t working tonight so the atmosphere is more relaxed.

  “Why exactly does her opinion mean shit? And why the fuck wasn’t she impressed with you?”

  “Shh,” I tell her looking around, although I know no one’s listening. “She’s his sister,” I reply with a shrug.

  “And?”

  “Well, he…” I throw my own hands up. “I don’t know, it just matters to me,” I tell her slamming my hand against my chest.

  “Girl, only you can decide if he’s worth it. Honestly though,” she says pursing her lips, “if he’s a momma’s boy or if he don’t stand up for you and won’t say shit to his sister, you’d be better off without him.”

  I sigh, feeling no less confused than I did five minutes ago.

  “Latisha, how soon is too soon to be in love?”

  “Girl, has he got a magic dick? A couple of weeks do not equate to love.”

  I slump onto the seat of the table we’re clearing, crossing my arms on the tabletop, and sinking my head on my arms. “Uhh, what am I supposed to do?” I look up at her with my eyes keeping my head on my arms and she’s smirking down at me. “How can I stop thinking about him?”

  Latisha takes the seat opposite me. “You really want to? ‘Cause from where I’m sitting, it looks more like you wanna have this man’s babies. He must be a master at orgasms, I’ve never seen you like this.”

  I groan, my head still in my arms. “I’ve never felt like this before. Why does it have to be him?”

  “Girl, there is always one. That guy… the one who could do you wrong and you’d still roll over for him.”

  I lift my head lamely. “But Latisha, he’s not done me wrong. Not really. I mean, he didn’t stand up for me when his sister went all out, but—”

  “He did. You just didn’t stick around to hear it.”

  My body stills at the voice I haven’t been able to get out of my mind since Monday night. Slowly, I raise my head a little as Latisha goes all momma bear. She crosses her arms, raises an eyebrow and purses her lips, she’s clearly ready for an argument.

  “Do not tell me this is the bitch sister?” Latisha snaps, her eyes never leaving Evelyn.

  I groan inwardly and rub my temples.

  “Yes, I’m the bitch sister,” she bites back. Her shoulders drop and she says, “I guess I deserved that.”

  “Girl, you pushing a sister down, not holding her up, that ain’t no girl code. You deserve more than what I just gave you. Still, you get to know my girl…” Latisha states pointing at me, “… and you still don’t like her, can’t see her pure heart…” she hisses and shakes her head, “… then there’s something seriously wrong with you.” With that parting comment, Latisha walks closer to me and whispers, “You gonna be okay?”

  I nod and wrap my hand around her wrist, giving it a squeeze. “I’ll be fine.”

  I remain quiet, watching Latisha’s retreating back, and wishing I could change my mind and ask her to stay.

  Evelyn slips into the chair opposite me, and once again I’m glad the restaurant is quiet, so I won’t get in trouble.

  “What can I do for you, Evelyn?” I ask quietly.

  “Well, I can say one thing, you’re more gracious than I would have been in your place,” she returns, not showing a single emotion.

  I shrug. “I don’t judge people, even when they’ve made a mistake.”

  She snorts, and I’m not sure if she takes what I’m saying as a dig, even though I was simply stating a fact.

  “Look… I’m sorry.”

  “Thank you,” I reply. “I appreciate you taking the time to come down here and apologize.” I sigh and start to stand up. “Now, if you will excuse me, I’m busy.”

  She looks around the restaurant and then back at me raising an eyebrow.

  “In the back… I’m needed in the back,” I confirm.

  “Please,” she says grabbing my hand. “Just give me a few moments of your time.”

  I look out of the window at the night sky and close my eyes while sucking in a deep breath. When I open them, she’s still sitting there, still looking at me, so I slide back down into my seat.

  “I’m sorry…” she starts.

  “You’ve already said that.”

  “I know, but it should be said twice,” she informs me.

  I remain silent because I have no idea what she wants from me. I’ve accepted her apology, there’s nothing more to say as far as I am concerned.

  “You work here.” It’s not a question, yet I still feel a need to answer, so I nod. “How did you meet Solomon?”

  I bite the inside of my mouth, deciding whether I want to entertain this woman any further, but when I see the apology in her eyes, my shoulders slump and I decide to give her the benefit of the doubt. “Actually, it was here, in the private room while I was working,” I say gesturing toward the back of the restaurant. “It was a football dinner. I guess the whole team were there, and I was waitressing. Unfortunately, I dropped a dessert in his lap.” My eyes meet hers again and I see them widen. “It was an accident, although he was pretty pissed about it at the time,” I murmur.

  She grins and shakes her head. “He was annoyed, huh?”

  I can’t help but smile back. “He snapped, and I snapped back. It was only a couple of weeks, but it already feels like it was months ago,” I mutter while staring out of the window.

  “You love him…” She breathes out the words and my eyes meet hers again.

  “No, not at all, it’s not been long enough.”

  She shakes her head. “You do. But I understand, he’s loveable.” She smiles at me.

  “It doesn’t matter,” I answer sharply, standing.

  “What doesn’t matter? He doesn’t matter?” she asks standing and grabbing her bag.

  I shake my head. “Oh no, he matters. But
I don’t expect you to believe me, I know what you think of me,” I snap.

  She studies me for a moment. “What I think is your mom died last year. You’ve been helping at a homeless shelter since you were a child. You live on your own, but spend a lot of your spare time with the older women who you used to live with, and you see her as a mom.” I open and close my mouth not sure what to say, but she continues so I don’t get a chance, “I think you spend most of your spare money buying clothes from a thrift store as well as essentials for the homeless people who visit your shelter, when it’s perfectly clear you need new shoes yourself.” We both look down at my shoes as a blush creeps up my neck. “I think you’re the kind of person who reads to children on a cancer ward once a week, and is automatically kind to all you meet.”

  “How do you know all that,” I hiss.

  “Because when my brother kicks me out of his house, I know his feelings run deep. And as he’s been taken for a fool before, I’m not willing to risk it again, so I hired a private investigator to check you out,” she says raising her chin.

  I shake my head, leaning toward her. “You decided what you thought of me from the very start without taking a moment to even talk to me,” I state, pointing at her.

  Evelyn’s eyes soften and it confuses my emotions. “I saw the way you looked when you left the other night. I’ve seen the photographs my private investigator has taken since then. And I see your eyes now. You love him, and that’s good enough for me.”

  I step away, her words bouncing around my head, her quiet softness making me feel strange. “I’m not good enough for him. And I never will be,” I tell her, but as I try to walk away she grips my shoulder. I don’t turn, but I still hear her.

  “If you love him and he loves you. If you make him happy then you’re perfect for him. I was wrong, and it was selfish of me to judge you without getting to know you. But I don’t want to be the reason my brother is miserable for the rest of his life, and even more, I don’t want him to shut me out forever. There’s something different about you, and I’m ashamed to say I didn’t see it in the beginning. Believe me, I do now.” I hear the clip of her heels as she walks away.

  Latisha sees my tears, even from across the room and she walks over, seating me right back at the damn table. “Tell me, did you listen to a word she said?” she asks and I shrug. “That woman knew she was wrong. She sees it written on your face. Hell, I see it in your face. You love him. Girl, you need to go get your man.”

  I look up at her blurry figure as my tears refuse to subside. “No. He’s better off without me,” I tell her, standing and striding into the kitchen.

  I need this shift to end soon, so I can go home and try to forget.

  Chapter 9

  Solomon

  “Dude, what’s your deal?” Brax snaps as I push him off me and make my way to the changing rooms. I hear coach shout something at Brax who runs after me. My head’s nowhere near where it needs to be for the game on Saturday, and if I don’t get myself straightened out, coach will bench me, or more likely, I’ll fumble the ball and lose us the damn game.

  “Fuck,” I shout, kicking the changing room door open with my foot.

  “Sol, has that chick got you crazy?”

  I glare at Brax who holds his hands up. “I know Dalton was asking for it, but did you have to pop him in his face? You know he’s gonna whine like a bitch for the rest of the season, saying you broke his nose.”

  “I didn’t break his nose,” I growl. “And the fucker shouldn’t have been talking shit. He’s always running his bitch mouth.”

  “You know that’s how Dalton is, it never usually bothers you.”

  I shrug. I know why I’m like this. Brax knows why I’m like this. Hell, even Will knows why I’m like this. And speaking of, in comes our captain.

  “If you’re going to bitch at me too, I’m not in the mood,” I bark at Will.

  He chuckles, then shrugs. “Dalton had that coming all year.” Will chuckles again, and pops open his locker. Pulling out his bag and dragging his top over his head, he slings in his dirty clothes, readying himself for the shower. “You know Meg is going to see Jasmine.” My ears prick up and I listen intently. “Meg wants to know if Jasmine would consider a visit with the teens in her ward, to read, or maybe play some games with them.” Reaching an arm behind his shoulder, he scratches his back. “She’s also going to invite Jasmine over for dinner. Said she has a good vibe.” Will shrugs. “Maybe you’ll come by that night?”

  I want to hug him. I want to drop to my knees and thank him. I have texted and called Jasmine over and over with no reply. I spent four hours sitting outside her apartment yesterday hoping she’d come home, but she stayed out way past when she was supposed to start work, and by that I can only assume she went to Wanda’s house.

  “He’s got it B.A.D. bad.” Brax hollers, before laughing.

  Will slaps him round the back of his head. “Dude, when you know…” he shrugs, “… you’ll get it.”

  “I ain’t never getting wifed up,” Brax states, crossing his arms over his chest.

  I smile and it’s my first genuine one for days. “I can’t fucking wait until you get your head stuck on someone,” I tell him.

  “I’ll text you with the details once I speak to Meg,” Will informs me as he walks into the showers. I nod and strip, ready to shower the grime away from the last few days and hope like hell this might be a turning point.

  “See you tomorrow, Mr. Lee,” Burt calls as I head out in the Rover. I give him a nod as I wait at the entrance trying to determine what I’m doing. I drive away from my usual route home and take another familiar route, heading to Benny’s. When I pull up, I don’t go into the barbershop like I normally would. Instead, I head inside King’s Hope Shelter.

  “Hey, sugar, can I help you?” the woman walking with Jasmine the other day—Wanda I think her name is—asks me, as I make my way inside the building.

  “Hi, I’m looking for Jasmine, ma’am.”

  She smiles up at me and it takes ten years off her face. “So, you’re the guy.”

  I raise my eyebrows and scratch the back of my head. “If she said I was a decent guy and hot as hell, then I’m the guy,” I reply chuckling. “If she said this guy’s an ass, then I think she must have been talking about someone else.”

  She grins back at me and shakes her head. “Boy, you best get your head straightened out and go fix the mess you made,” she tells me walking away.

  I follow her. “I’m trying,” I admit. “She won’t answer my calls or texts. I went to her place the other day and waited for four hours, but she never came home before her shift at the restaurant. This is the last place I know of where I might find her. I don’t want to hit her up at work and maybe get her in trouble.”

  “Okay, come with me,” she orders cryptically.

  I follow behind like a lost puppy while taking in the surroundings. She leads me through a big dining type hall, with an adjoining room which has a sofa, but it’s all run down. As we enter the kitchen, I can see it’s much more modern inside here, although it’s still run down, but sparkling clean.

  “Here, don’t want your pretty clothes getting dirty.” She smiles, and rather than asking why she handed me an apron, I put it on and wait for her next instruction, and as expected it comes quickly. “Runner beans, top and tail them like this,” she says showing me. “Then wash them thoroughly and put them in the pot.” Wanda points to an old saucepan. “There are carrots in the cupboard, I need the whole bag peeled, topped and tailed, washed and put into this pot,” she explains, pointing to another saucepan which looks just as old.

  She leaves the kitchen and it’s now me and the beans. I thought there would be more people here, and I find myself hoping—for Wanda’s sake—that more people turn up to help later.

  My phone pumps out ‘I’m Ready’ by Tevin Campbell and I sing along, badly, aware I’m on my own.

  “You know the old stuff is better,” Wanda states from be
hind me.

  “Damn, woman, you scared me.” She grins up at me and shakes her head, pausing my music. “And incidentally, that was old,” I inform her.

  She only laughs. “Boy, music from the nineties is not old. Now, this… this is music.” She nods her head as her old, bust up stereo cackles to life and she clicks play on a cassette deck. I can’t believe the old as shit player even works, but as ‘Wishing on a Star’ by Rose Royce comes on, I smile at her.

  “Okay, I’ll hand it to you, you’ve got taste.” I wink, and she rolls her eyes at me.

  “Let me help you,” she says shoving me to one side. “We need to get this done quickly as the lunch rush will be here soon.”

  “Why was I chopping beans and carrots for dinner then?” I ask, genuinely confused.

  “Boy, when the people start coming in, a lot of them stay all day. There’s limited time to prepare for dinner, once we’ve finished serving and clearing away breakfast, then lunch. It’s good you came in today,” she says turning to face me. “One of our usual volunteers, Marsha, she’s come down with a cold and can’t make it. I would have had to try and do all this alone.”

  “Glad I can be of help,” I tell her, and I find I really mean it.

  I move over to the dishes and start washing them.

  “You know… that girl is special,” Wanda murmurs, almost like she’s talking to herself. “Always helping everyone but herself. She’s as selfless as a person can be, and still she thinks she’s not enough.”

  “Jasmine?” I question.

  Wanda stops peeling and turns to face me. “Listen to me. If you pick up the gauntlet and you decide to run the race, you look after her heart, boy.” She waves her finger at me. “I can see you have something in you, something which makes you untrusting of others.”

  “Not this time,” I reply, interrupting her.

  She studies me, her eyes narrow in on mine, and I don’t know what she sees but after a few moments she nods. “You choose to make her yours… you don’t ever let her down, you hear me? She deserves the world.”