“How you know that fool ain’t got no heat up in there? I think at least one of us should roll with you, chief. Man, we ‘on’t know how ‘dis shit gon’ go down, ya’ heard?” Rob added from behind me.
We’d just got off the plane in Teterboro. When we jumped on the jet right after the last call of the McDonald’s photo shoot I’d done in L.A., I decided to share why. I didn’t give too many details, but offered up some because they knew Zoey and now would really know her. I knew they were concerned about me going in without them, but as a man, I had to do this alone. Rolling up in that man’s house with armor to tell him I’ve fucked and impregnated his daughter would be beyond reckless.
“Nah, I’m good. Give me a min,” I called over my shoulder as I hopped out of the G63 and took a deep breath while moving up the walkway, wondering how many times Zoey walked this exact path, coming and going, over the years.
It took a minute, but eventually Sarah Barrett opened the door with trepidation. I could understand. What the hell is a six-foot-seven-inch tatted giant doing at your doorstep just before eight in the damn morning. Her smile was forced as she tried to recall my face. I knew that expression in my line of work. When folks see you for the first time in person, your features are familiar from the television screen. In her case, I was just in her home the previous Christmas.
“Hi,” she squeezed out hesitantly. “Can I help you?” It finally hit me: Her mahogany skin appeared flawless and her eyes were big and expression-filled like the actress Loretta Divine.
“Good morning, Mrs. Barrett. I’m hoping to speak to your husband, Michael,” I tried calling on all of my etiquette and vocabulary. These were Christian folks; my normal vulgar nature just wouldn’t do. “Is he around?”
“Su-sure. I-I’ll get him. Hang on a bit,” she offered, still uneasy.
When she walked away, I turned toward the truck and let out a long and heavy breath. I was tired as fuck when we pulled up, but now I have enough energy to run the entire city of New Brunswick. Rob and Barry’s eyes were glued to me. I knew they didn’t envy me in this moment. How the fuck did I get into this shit? Oh, yeah…my brilliant, asinine idea.
“Can I help you, son?” I heard from behind me, just as curious as his wife.
I turned to see a short and round Michael Barrett, almost shorter than his wife, who stood a few feet behind him. I’m sure she was looking for answers.
I extended my hand to him, “Mr. Barrett, my name is Stenton Ro—”
“I know who you are, son,” he informed as he accepted my hand. Is it the tats that give me away? For the first time, I felt a little embarrassed by my rocker style appearance. “How can I help you?”
“Well, I was wondering if I could talk to you.” I looked around the doorframe and behind, gesturing my desire to be invited in. “…privately, if you don’t mind.”
He nodded, “C’mon in. Have a seat over there on the couch.”
I followed him into the living room to the couch he directed me to. As I was preparing to sit down, Sarah asked, “Are you the young man that came over for Zoey last Christmas?” She’d finally placed my face.
I gave a nod and polite smile that seemed entirely inappropriate for the occasion, they’d soon learn.
“Yes, ma’am,” I answered then turned to Michael. “And that’s the purpose of my unannounced visit. Zoey and I have been friends since last summer. She enrolled in a program that assists a facility where I used to train during the off season.” I brought my hands together, begging my words to do the same. “Well, we’ve been getting along, keeping in touch even during the season. I’ve grown quite fond of her and…”
“And son?” he pushed. I was being wordy.