“Come on, I’ll show you,” he said. I followed him through the work area and up the back staircase. When we got upstairs I was speechless at what I saw.
“This is the apartment above the garage. I had it converted to a workout gym,” Jordan said as he flipped a few light switches so that I could take a better look. There were a number of machines positioned all around the room. There was a flat-screen television mounted on the far wall, and two treadmills were situated in front of the television.
“Do you know who this is?” he asked pointing to a mural on the wall. The wall painting was a life-size portrayal of two boxers. One had knocked the other one down and appeared to be towering above him yelling down at the other man on his back.
“That’s that boxer man,” I said, not remembering his name.
“His name is Muhammad Ali. He’s fighting a man by the name of Sonny Liston. In this scene, Ali has knocked Liston down. Liston was the heavyweight champion at the time. Ali is yelling ‘get up’ to him.”
“Why is he yelling at him?” I asked.
“Because Liston knew that he couldn’t beat Ali so he tried to cheat by placing an eye irritant on his boxing gloves. So every time he hit Ali near his eyes, the irritation prevented Ali from seeing clearly. Once Ali’s trainers realized what was going on, they washed the irritant away and Ali went back out to whip Sonny’s behind.”
“Oh,” I said as I walked up closer to the mural. “Who painted it?”
“Your uncle did,” Jordan answered. I looked back at him and noticed that he was just watching my every movement. His sharp eyes made me nervous. He made me feel as if he was mall security or someone watching and waiting for me to steal something.
“Don’t stand behind me like that,” I said, snapping at him.
“Stand behind you like what?” he asked.
“Like you’re waiting for me to break or steal something.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to make you feel that way,” he said.
Next to the Muhammad Ali painting was a cabinet filled with track and field trophies.
“Did you win these?” I asked.
“No, actually most of them belong to my wife, Barbara. She was an exceptional high school and college track and field athlete. The three on the bottom shelf belong to your brother, Mike.”
“Where is he?” I asked.
“He’s out with his mother. They’ll be home in a little while. You’ll see him then.”
I got tired of looking at the workout room and decided to walk back down the stairs.
“Come around this way,” Jordan said, and I followed him around the side of the garage down a short brick path, which was lined with thick, neatly trimmed bushes. Once we got around the bushes I saw the in-ground swimming pool.
“Do you know how to swim?” he asked.
“No,” I answered.
“Well, I can teach you how. It’s real easy once you get the hang of it.” I didn’t answer him, I just looked at how pretty the water was. “We’ll have to wait until next summer for swimming lessons though. I’m going to have to drain the pool for the winter next week.”
We walked back down the short brick path past the garage and to the door at the rear of the house. I stepped inside and held the door open for Jordan. Upon entering he began talking.
“We’ll start in the basement,” he said and I followed him down a few steps. To the right there was a door, which he opened. It was his office. His computer, desk and photos of various entertainers were hung on the wall. I walked in and looked at one photo of him and TuPac.
“You knew TuPac?” I asked.
“I wouldn’t say that I knew him but we’ve met before,” answered Jordan.
“So what is that you do?” I asked.
“I’m the executive vice president for Hot Jamz 104,” he answered.
“That’s, like, the hottest radio station in the city,” I said, sort of excited about the possibility of getting to meet a famous entertainer.
“Yeah, but our last rating has us as the number-three station in the city and I have to change that.”
“Oh,” I answered, not fully understanding what he meant. We came out of the office and went toward the rear of the basement. It was a typical basement. Gray concrete floor and walls. There was nothing exciting about looking at the laundry shoot or the washer and dryer.
“Over here, this is what I wanted to show you,” he said as he opened another door, which led to the greenhouse. I stepped inside and saw an array of potted flowers blooming along with another door which led inside.
“It’s pretty,” I admitted and then turned and exited the room. I could tell that Jordan wanted to explain all of the flowers but I didn’t care about that.
“I planted all of the flowers around the house,” he commented as we walked out of the basement. “Gardening is something I’ve always loved. Have you ever planted a seed and then nurtured it into a flower?”
“No, and I really don’t care to,” I said with honesty. However, I suppose that my tone of voice made me sound rather snotty.
“This is the family room,” he said as we walked out of the basement and up a few stairs. There was a large sectional brown leather sofa that looked huge enough to seat at least seven or eight people. At both ends of the sectional there were recliner seats. The oversize sofa even had cup holders and a compartment to keep ice cold. Another large flat-screen television was mounted on the wall along with a complete home theater system. He waited for a response from me, but I only nodded my head. From there we moved into the kitchen, which looked like it was out of a magazine. The refrigerator had a crushed icemaker, there was a center island where food could be prepared, and there was an abundance of cabinet and shelf space. From there it was on to the formal dining room. There was a beautiful wooden table large enough to seat eight people. The table was completely set but looked more like a display rather than a place to eat.
“Follow me and I’ll show you to your room,” he said as he opened yet another door, which I thought was a closet but it was actually a staircase that led to the upper level of the house.
“Damn, this is a big-ass house,” I blurted out my thoughts.
“I’d prefer that you not use foul language. It’s not becoming of a lady,” Jordan said, and I looked at him like he’d just lost his mind. I know that he didn’t call himself putting me in check, I thought to myself. The last thing he has the right to do is discipline me.
“Whatever,” I said as I walked up the stairs. In my mind I didn’t see myself staying in this house for very long. I felt like I was intruding on his space anyway. When I reached the top landing there were three bedrooms and a bathroom up there. Grandmother Katie was coming out of the bathroom as we were about to turn and walk down the corridor toward the bedrooms.
“Well, I see you two have finally made it up here,” she said with a smile.
“I’m about to show Keysha to her room,” Jordan said. I followed him down to the last door, which was closed.
“I think you should open it,” he said as he stepped aside. I placed my hand on the handle of the white door, gave it a twist and opened it up. I was completely taken aback by the size of the room. It was huge. There was a beautiful vanity dresser filled with all types of cosmetic products. There was a queen-size canopy bed with linen that matched the curtains, a desk and chair were near the window, as well as a stand that had a small television with a VCR and DVD