Fixin’ Tyrone by Keith Thomas Walker Page B

windshield?”
    “Well, I threw a brick at first, then I used my tire iron.”
    “ You broke my windshield?”
    “Yes, Eric. I broke your windshield. Do you need me to get it in the newspapers or what?”
    He smiled. “You must really like me.”
    “I must have really hated you,” Mia corrected. “But I was out of line. I can’t believe I did that. No one can.”
    “I don’t want your money,” Eric decided.
    “You’re taking it,” Mia said. “I’m a grown woman. I pay for my mistakes. How much was it? The phone, too.” Her pen hovered over the checkbook.
    Eric leaned back in his chair. “You know, when Shareefa said, ‘ I don’t know. Maybe yo other bitch broke it! ’’ I wouldn’t have believed her in a million years.”
    Mia smiled. “I hope you didn’t let that bitch call me a bitch.”
    * * *
     
    Eric finally gave her a price, and Mia wrote a check for her damages. The food came shortly afterwards, and they actually had a nice time together. Eric told her about his whole family, every cousin it seemed, and Mia shared a bit of her lineage, too. She also told him about TC’s father coming home from prison. Eric was a bit concerned at first, but Mia assured him the jobless, convicted felon had no chance of a late-round comeback. She did not tell him about the ass-grabbing incident, though, and certainly not about Tyrone’s lofty declaration of love.
    Standing next to Mia’s car later on, Eric hugged her and kissed her good night, and it was good, but also a little different.

CHAPTER 7
    GAME FOR DAYS
     
    After such a tumultuous start, Mia thought her whole week would be off-kilter, but it turned out pretty nice. With her questions resolved about the player—who turned out not to be a player—she was able to exhibit her trademark confidence.
    Tyrone called almost every day to inquire about his son, but his true intentions were clear. He always wanted to chat longer after they were done discussing TC.
    “So, uh, what you doing?”
    “I’m cooking, Tyrone. I’ll call you later. Maybe we could set something up for the weekend.”
    “What you cooking?”
    “I’m busy, Tyrone.”
    “All right. I just want to see my boy.”
    “Okay, but I’m working late the next two days.”
    “You can call me when you get through eating if you want. I’ll be woke.”
    * * *
     
    Mia was pretty sure Tyrone only wanted to see his son half as much as he wanted to see her, but she only felt comfortable with monitored visits, so that was unavoidable. She allowed him to on Thursday, and Tyrone showed up at 5:30 sharp, as dashing as ever, with gifts in hand. The gifts were actually from Family Dollar. It said so on the bag he toted them in, but the kids fussed over the trinkets as if they’d come from Bloomingdale’s.
    Tyrone sat on the couch with TC on one side and Mica on the other. Mia sat across from them on the love seat. Today Tyrone had on khaki Dickies with a blue golf shirt. The shirt had no designs except for the Polo insignia on the left breast. He was still strikingly handsome, even though he had fresh stubble under his nose and on his chin. He wore a goatee when they were dating, and it looked like he was growing it out again.
    He had two gifts for his son: The first was a cheap version of the Hungry Hippo game. The second was a Hot Wheels car Tyrone said was a 1970 Chevelle SS.
    “I’m going to bring you a different car every time I see you,” he promised. “You’re going to have the biggest collection in Overbrook.”
    “What if you bring me one I already have?” TC asked.
    “I’ll just take it back and get you another one,” Tyrone said. “If you think you got this one, let me know. I’ll take it back right now.”
    “No, I don’t have a Chevelle. I got four Camaros and three Corvettes. I think I have a Charger, but no Chevelle.”
    Mica’s gift was a figurine from the Bratz toy line. The doll was dark-skinned with full lips, just like Mica.
    “Don’t think I forgot about you,