Chapter 23 - Jefferson
The Jefferson closing lasted two hours.
Tiana sat in the back of the conference room.
She was not part of Northline.
Nobody pretended otherwise.
Marcus signed.
Andre signed.
The seller signed.
Attorneys exchanged documents.
Funds moved.
Properties changed ownership.
Nothing flashed.
No music played.
No giant bow appeared.
Yet Tiana felt more emotion watching Marcus sign those papers than she had felt seeing the luxury SUV unlock.
Years of work existed behind each signature.
Savings.
Risk.
Rejections.
Planning meetings.
Permits.
No sixteen-second reveal could show that.
Afterward Andre approached her.
“Tiana.”
She stood.
“Congratulations.”
“Thank you.”
He looked uncomfortable.
“I owe you something.”
She waited.
“I was hard on you.”
“You had reasons.”
“Yes.”
He paused.
“But I treated you like everything that happened to Northline was your fault.”
Tiana appreciated the distinction.
“I brought risk into your circle.”
“You did.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I know.”
Andre extended his hand.
“We’re okay.”
She shook it.
Not friends.
Not family.
But okay.
Outside, Marcus stood on the sidewalk looking across the properties.
Three boarded houses.
An empty lot.
A closed laundromat.
Not impressive yet.
Tiana joined him.
“So this becomes eight million dollars?”
“If we don’t screw it up.”
“Romantic.”
Marcus smiled.
“Development is mostly expensive problems.”
“What happens first?”
“Environmental work. Demolition. Permits.”
“And the community center?”
“Phase two.”
“Still named for Calvin?”
Marcus looked at her.
“Yes.”
Tiana smiled.
“He’d like that.”
“He’d complain about the budget.”
“Definitely.”
They walked the block.
Marcus explained the affordable units.
The market-rate townhomes.
The playground.
The counseling office he wanted inside the resource center.
“What kind of counseling?” Tiana asked.
“Financial.”
She stopped.
“Because of your dad?”
“Yes.”
“And maybe my mother?”
Marcus glanced at her.
“Maybe.”
Tiana became emotional.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“That word again.”
She smiled.
“You’re learning.”
Marcus looked toward the old buildings.
“Your mom told me the counseling nonprofit Dad sent her to closed years ago.”
“Yeah.”
“I found the former director.”
“You did?”
“She’s retired, but she agreed to advise us.”
Tiana stared.
“Marcus.”
“What?”
“That’s incredible.”
He shrugged.
“There’s space.”
“No.”
Tiana shook her head.
“You found a way to turn what happened to your family into something useful.”
Marcus looked away, uncomfortable with praise.
Then Tiana understood.
“You still think success should be invisible.”
“What?”
“You hide good things too.”
Marcus frowned.
“I don’t hide them.”
“You minimize them.”
“That’s different.”
“Is it?”
He laughed.
“Are you therapizing me now?”
“Absolutely.”
They continued walking.
At the corner, Marcus stopped.
“I’m in counseling.”
Tiana turned.
“What?”
“Started two weeks ago.”
She stared.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Privacy.”
He smiled.
“Not secrecy. It doesn’t affect you financially.”
Tiana laughed.
“Fair.”
Marcus continued.
“I wanted to understand why I do the testing thing.”
“How’s that going?”
“Apparently I have control issues.”
“Shocking.”
“Tiana.”
“Sorry.”
He smiled.
“And apparently being calm isn’t always the same as being emotionally healthy.”
“That one I believe.”
“What about you?”
“I started too.”
“Counseling?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“After the investigator interview.”
“Why?”
Tiana looked down the street.
“Because I don’t want debt repayment to be the only thing I fix.”
Marcus nodded.
They reached the vacant lot.
A child’s abandoned basketball sat near the fence.
Marcus picked it up.
“Dad used to work around here.”
“I know.”
“He hated seeing buildings get abandoned.”
Tiana watched him.
“Marcus?”
“Yes?”
“If we never get back together…”
His face changed.
She continued.
“I’m glad I saw this.”
“Why?”
“Because I spent years asking when you were going to do something big.”
She looked around.
“I was looking for big things that could be photographed.”
Marcus remained silent.
“This is bigger.”
Their eyes met.
For a moment, the distance between them felt unbearable.
Then Andre called Marcus from across the street.
“Surveyor’s here.”
Marcus raised a hand.
He turned back toward Tiana.
“Dinner?”
She froze.
“Today?”
“Yes.”
“Is that a date?”
Marcus thought.
“No.”
Tiana smiled sadly.
“Good.”
Then Marcus added, “But maybe someday I’d like it to be.”
Hope returned.
Quietly this time.
No headlights.
No chirp.
No audience.
Just one sentence offered without a guarantee.
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Tiana nodded.
“Someday sounds good.”
