Page 16 of Waiting for Friday Night

Quinton sat up from where he’d been lounging on the couch and pressed his free hand to his temple. “Excuse me, have you been invaded by a body snatcher? You are not the same person who raised me,” Quinton teased.

“Ain’t nobody snatch me. I’m ready for grandchildren. Is that so hard to believe?”

“Can you wait until I find someone I’d like to have kids with? I swear, the way you’re pressing you might be okay with me just having a kid with anybody.”

“You sure you don’t have any kids out there?” his dad asked. “I mean, you were in the league for eight years.”

Quinton shook his head. “Dad, stop it. You both know I wasn’t out there like that. I didn’t call for this. I called to check on how things were going. Did you get the pump on the well fixed?”

After he’d started playing professional football the first thing Quinton had done was get his parents out of the cheap apartment they’d struggled to keep and into a house of their own. They’d been worried he would tear or break something in the first year and be broke again. Knowing firsthand how easily an injury could end his career, Quinton made sure to take care of his body and quickly addressed any bumps and bruises. They’d finally agreed to move into a house in the country when he’d made it three years without any serious injuries. After years of being cramped in an apartment his parents wanted nothing but space and privacy. Living in a rural area meant they also had to deal with using a well for water, and the pump on the well had broken recently.

“I can fix the pump myself.” Stubbornness filled his dad’s voice.

Quinton rubbed his temples. He was tired of having this same conversation. “Dad, you don’t have to fix the well yourself. We can afford to have someone come check it out.”

“Why pay someone for something I can do myself? It’s a waste of money. Just let me handle it. We’ll be good.”

“No, you won’t. How is not having running water going to be good?”

“You remember all the times the water got cut off when you were younger. We survived then and we’ll survive now.”

“That was different. The water was cut off because we couldn’t pay the bill. Now I can afford to take care of things. I’m sending someone tomorrow.”

“I don’t need someone to—”

“I don’t care about what you need,” he cut off his dad. “I care about making sure you have water in the house.”

“Quinton!”

“Dad, I’m not arguing about this. Someone will be there first thing in the morning.”

His mom jumped in. “If you want to send someone then go ahead.”

“Laura!” his dad exclaimed. Clearly upset that his wife was accepting their son’s help.

“Let it go, Willie. Quinton wants to do this for us so let him.”

His dad grumbled a little longer then finally agreed. Quinton understood his dad’s hesitancy. For so many years his parents had done everything they could to keep the family afloat. They’d worked multiple jobs, went without eating so their kids could eat, and found ways to make a dollar stretch for thirty days. All while never asking for help and always finding a way to make ends meet. Their refusal to ask for help was part of the reason why Quinton had made the decision in college to get money by any means possible instead of asking his parents to help him when he needed shoes, books or his partial scholarship only made a small dent in his tuition. He’d done what needed to be done to make it to the pros so that he could make their lives better. He wouldn’t let his parents suffer because of pride.

Halle sat at the kitchen table looking up activities for cousins’ weekend later that month. Cousins’ weekend was an idea she’d come up with to stay connected with her extended family. Once her great aunt who used to plan family reunions passed away and the get-togethers stopped, she’d missed hanging out with her cousins who were like siblings to her. So, she’d started planning the yearly get-together. She and her cousins got together and played games, competed in little activities and grilled out. Even though it was Halle’s idea, her cousin, Kayla, had helped her plan each one.

Shania came into the kitchen and came toward Halle.

“Hey, sweetie,” Halle said, not looking up from the laptop.

“Mom, can I ask you something?”

Halle turned away from her laptop and gave Shania her full attention. “Sure, but first tell me what you think. Tug-of-war or a spades tournament?”

Shania pursed her lips. “Tug-of-war. You know Mick gets real crazy when y’all play spades.”

Halle laughed when she thought of how serious her first cousin got whenever they played spades. “That’s part of the fun. Watching him act a fool.”

“Let’s just put him on the grill and not have him act up.”

Halle nodded. “You’re right. We don’t need anyone acting a fool. Our family has enough foolishness as it is.”

Shania grabbed the back of the chair next to Halle and raised her brows. “Soooo, about my question.”

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