“Two things,” she said after the agent shut the door. “I wanted to know if you were okay, and I need to open up to you about something, pertaining to this thing we have going on.”
I massaged my hands together while checking her out as she stood in front of my desk.
“Spit isn’t going to kill me, but he did catch me off guard. I assume everyone sitting in the press corps area can’t stop talking about it, right?”
“That’s all everyone is talking about, and I assure you that it will be on the front cover of every newspaper tomorrow morning.”
“That wouldn’t surprise me one bit. And since we both already know that will be the case, let’s switch to the other subject which pertains to us.”
Michelle pivoted and took a seat on a sectional sofa that faced my desk. She crossed her legs and bit into her bottom lip.
“We need to end this,” she said bluntly. “I want you to stop coming to my place and persuading me to do things with you that make me feel so horrible afterwards. There was a time when I felt like I didn’t care what happened between us. My feelings are now way too involved in this, and I know this thing between us isn’t going anywhere. I think you know that too, so let’s just stop while we’re ahead and let it be.”
“I have no problem with that, Michelle, and I want you to make the call going forward. If that’s really what you want, your wish will be granted.”
“Your words don’t hold much truth, because every time I look up, you’re coming to my place, making me feel like I really matter to you and . . . ”
My reply was stern. “You do matter, and I asked for you to make the call going forward. You said you would like to end this, and I’m in agreeance with you. The truth is, I don’t have time for this. I don’t have time to deal with us and I agree that what’s been going on between us needs to cease. You have my word that I won’t come to your place again. Even if you invite me, I won’t come. Is that what you needed to hear?”
There was silence as she stared at me. Seconds later, she responded. “Yes. It’s exactly what I needed to hear, so don’t let me waste anymore of your time.”
She stood and as she made her way to the door, I spoke again.
“Thanks for putting up with me. I know this hasn’t been easy for you, and if you change your mind, the door remains open.”
She walked out. I released a deep sigh and fell back in my chair, thinking about her and about what I was going to do with Mr. Macon.
The moment I returned to the White House, my mother was waiting for me in the Oval Office. She was sitting behind the Resolute desk while resting comfortably in my chair. A glass of alcohol was in her hand, a frown was on her face.
“Before I tell you how I feel about that clown-ass fool spitting on you today, I have to tell you that sitting at this desk makes me feel like a very powerful woman. Maybe I should run for president one day. You know I would get so many important things accomplished.”
“I have no comment, but if you don’t mind, I would like to have my chair back. After you allow me to sit at my desk, can you please tell me why you have that drink in your hand?”
She jumped up from the chair, yet remained by the desk with the glass in her hand. After tossing back the brown liquid, she placed the glass on my desk and cleared her throat.
“What else am I supposed to do? You have me worried sick about you. I’ve been waiting for two hours for you to return. I need to know if you’ve heard anything from Joshua, what is going on with you and Raynetta, and why in the hell didn’t you slap the mess out of that white, racist fool for spitting on you today? He was well within your reach. All you had to do was snatch him up and deal with him right there at that rally.”
I plopped down in my chair and reached for the empty glass. After turning it upside down, not one drop came from it.
“I don’t expect to hear from Joshua or Ina for a very long time. You should prepare yourself for their absence, and you have no one but yourself to blame. That’s probably why you’re drinking again, and Mama, I really wish you would not . . .”
She snapped her fingers to cut me off. “How many times do I have to tell you that I’m grown and I will do what I wish? I only had one drink today. I needed something to calm my nerves. I’m upset about a lot of things, Stephen, and this stuff with Mr. McNeil, along with everything else is driving me nuts.”
Appearing emotional, she stepped away from my desk and took a seat on the sofa. I knew she had been experiencing some setbacks, but the last thing I needed was for her to start drinking again. I got up from my desk and sat across from her on the other sofa. As we faced each other, she looked at me with a glassy film covering her eyes.
“Answer my question,” she said. “What are you going to do about that idiot spitting on you? I know darn well you’re not going to let that slide.”
I removed my suit jacket and laid it across the arm of the sofa. After removing my tie and unbuttoning several buttons on my white crisp shirt, I relaxed and crossed one leg over the other.
“I have bigger fish to fry, so change the subject.”
“Fine then. Where is Raynetta?”
“As I said, I have bigger fish to fry so what else do you want to know?”
“Go ahead and fry your fish, bake it, stuff it or do whatever you have to do to it. I want to know where Raynetta is at. She and I have some business to tend to.”
I nodded and snickered at the same time. “I don’t know and don’t care where she’s at. Maybe she’s out somewhere with Alex, trying to cook up some more damaging information about Mr. McNeil. You should know where she is, especially since the two of you have gotten rather cozy with each other lately.”
“That’s because I was wrong about Ne-ne. She’s nice and she deserves more of your attention. So does Mr. McNeil, and since you know that Raynetta and I been working together to find dirt on him, I guess you must know what we found out.”
I pretended as if I didn’t know. “What exactly did you find out?”
“We discovered that he’s involved in some kind of sex slave ring. I’m trying to get the prosecutor, Mr. Blackstone, to handle some things for me. After I pay him one more visit, he’ll be eating out of the palm of my hand.”
I sat up and had to laugh. “You and Raynetta haven’t discovered anything. Don’t you know when you’re being played? I hate to be the one to break the bad news to you, but the information Alex gave to Raynetta about Mr. McNeil was false. He’s not involved in anything dealing with sex slaves, and if you turned any tricks to get Mr. Blackstone to file charges against Mr. McNeil, you wasted your time. It’s not going to happen. I told you before that I will deal with Mr. McNeil. You and Raynetta need to stay the hell away from him. He’s dangerous.”
She adjusted herself in the chair while contracting her eyes as she looked at me. Her facial expression implied that she wasn’t happy about what I’d told her.
“So, you’re telling me that you knew Alex gave us false information? That you knew I’ve been in contact with Mr. Blackstone, and I lowered my standards to sleep with his ass, just so he would do me a favor? Basically, my time and efforts to make sure Mr. McNeil caused you no harm were wasted? Is that what you’re telling me?”
I clapped my hands. “Bingo, you finally got it. That’s exactly what I’m telling you, Mama, so halt the investigative nonsense with Raynetta and go join some kind of social club, if you want to keep yourself busy. I didn’t think you would be foolish enough to have sex with a married man like Mr. Blackstone, but nothing you do these days surprise me anymore. That man can’t help you, and he’s not going to help you do anything to Mr. McNeil. If he told you he was going to do something, he lied. Also, if you’re thinking about sticking to your plan with Raynetta, you may want to have a serious conversation with her about her connection to Mr. McNeil. Since the two of you are so chummy now, maybe she’ll tell you who he is to her.”
She folded her arms across her chest and crossed her legs. By now, a full at
titude was on display.
“First of all, don’t you dare sit there and tell me what I need to join. You need to join the respect-yo-mama club before you find my foot swallowed in your ass. I don’t know what’s up with your foul mouth, and just because you speak to Raynetta any kind of way, you will not do the same to me. I call myself helping you, but if you don’t appreciate . . .”
Irritated, I interrupted her. “I don’t need your help, okay? You helped enough with Joshua and look where it left me. I haven’t forgotten about what you did, Mama. The more I think about it, the more it upsets me.”
This time, she clapped her hands and stood up. After walking around the table, she stood in front of me.
“Let me make myself real clear, nigga, okay? I don’t care how upset you are, but you’d better thank your lucky stars I went out of my way to find out what Levi and Ina had done behind your back. You’d better thank your lucky stars that I always show up at the right time to save your black ass. In those moments, I never hear you complaining. I don’t care what your status is or who you’ve become. You’d better learn to respect me, because the last person you want to go to war with is me.”
I didn’t flinch, and without a single blink, I stared into her eyes showing no fear whatsoever. “Just so you know, your threats mean nothing to me. I have work to do, and I think it’s time for you to pack up all that unnecessary noise and leave.”
As I leaned forward to get up, she moved her face close to mine, purposely spraying it with her spit.
“Since my threats don’t work, maybe my specks of spit on you will get a reaction.”
I jumped up from the sofa, and as I squeezed my fist, she raised her hand. “Come on muthafucka, I dare you. Put your hands on me, just like you did that white man today. You handled him good, didn’t you? And if you even think about handling me, I got something for you, son.”
I opened my hand and wiped down my face to clear her spit. “Get out, now. I have nothing else to say to you, Mama. What kind of mother spits in her own son’s face? That alcohol must be doing quite a number on you.”
“A mother who feels disrespected. You lucky I didn’t pull out my piece and shoot your ass. Maybe I’d better get out of here, especially if the American people want to see you alive after tonight.”
I didn’t say one word as she marched toward the door, slamming it behind her. I hated that I still allowed her to get to me. My insides were boiling. I plopped down at my desk and quickly reached for my cell phone. I hit one button and was very pleased to hear her voice when she answered.
“You already know where he is,” I said. “Be sure to take care of this situation for me, and as always, thanks.”
“Will do, Mr. President. It’s lights out for him tonight.”
I hit the end button and laid the phone on my desk. For the next few hours, I read a few letters I’d received, reviewed the notes from my meeting earlier and returned several calls. When I was ready to call it a night, I stripped down to my briefs, grabbed a blanket from the closet, turned on some soft music and chilled on the sofa. The television was on; I watched breaking news flash on the screen. The news anchor reported that the man who had spit on me earlier, hung himself while in his cell. What a shame? I thought. Humph. I pulled the blanket over my head and closed my eyes so I could get some sleep.
President’s Mother,
Teresa Jefferson
See, sometimes, men needed to be put in their place, including my son. Steam poured from my ears as I left the White House in a rage. With Secret Service trying to keep an eye on me, I hissed at them and drove off. I was mad at myself because I’d made a big mistake. I’d gone to see Mr. Blackstone about prosecuting Mr. McNeil, and unfortunately, one thing led to another that day. I had no intentions of giving him anything; after all, what I’d seen in the bathroom stall one day wasn’t worth my time. My only excuse was I’d been drinking. Drinking too much to be honest, but as I’d told that stupid son of mine, I needed something to calm me down.
As I made my way to Jeremy Blackstone’s house, I breezed my Lexus through traffic. I reached for a bottle of gin in my glove compartment, and after tossing back a few swigs, I laid the bottle on the seat. The road ahead looked blurry. I kept blinking my eyes because my eyelids felt heavy. Once I arrived at Jeremy’s house, I swerved my car in his driveway, almost hitting his white BMW in the rear. There was another car parked next to him; I guess it belonged to his wife.
Before exiting my car, I teased the feathery, salt-and-pepper bangs on my forehead, slid on some bright red lipstick, and to free my breasts, I opened a few buttons on the silky blouse I wore. My slim-fit jeans tightened at my ankles and the red-bottom heels I wore added much height to my small frame. I always represented for older women, and even though my mouth was slick at times, it was required to deal with some of these idiots who lived in Washington.
With my purse tucked underneath my arm, I stumbled to porch. Jeremy lived in an upscale neighborhood; every house on the block was, at least, 6,000 square feet. The two-story brick house stretched around the corner, and with a well-manicured lawn, the house was fit for a magazine. I pressed my finger on the doorbell, and then glanced at my watch to see what time it was. It was almost midnight, but his car was evidence that he was home.
I peeked through the double glass doors and could see Jeremy coming down the arched staircase, yawning. A burgundy robe covered his tall and slender frame, and his bald head had a shine. Black-framed glasses covered his eyes and his full beard looked very rugged. Before he opened the door, he turned around to see if anyone was behind him. Seeing no one, he opened the door with a scrunched face.
“Are you serious? What are you doing here?” he asked in nasty tone. “Do you know what time it is?”
“It’s time for you to get a breath mint, now, back up and lower your voice. I came here because I need to know what you intend to do with the damaging material I gave you about Mr. McNeil. Somebody informed me today that you aren’t planning to do anything.”
He glanced at my breasts, then turned his head to look behind him again. Seeing no one, he gave me his attention.
“I told you I would review the information and let you know what I decide.”
“That’s what you told me, but I get a feeling that you’re playing games with me. Are you?”
He straightened his glasses, then tightened the belt on his robe. “No, I’m not. I don’t play games with people.”
“Are you sure about that? Maybe I should ring the doorbell again so I can wake up your wife and ask her. She would know if you play games with people, wouldn’t she?”
“There’s no need for you to do that, okay? It smells like you’ve been drinking, and I think it would be smart for you to get in your car, go home and wait for my call tomorrow. I’ll let you know what I decide to do then.”
“That sounds like a plan, but I don’t think you’ll follow through. Are you or are you not going to prosecute Mr. McNeil? You’ve had enough time to review the material I gave to you. I need to know, right now, what your next move will be.”
He rubbed his hand across the top of his sweaty bald head and sighed. “My next move is, I’m going inside to get back in bed with my wife. I said I will contact you tomorrow, but if you wish to make a scene out here tonight, I’ll have to call the police. That would be a shame, because I’m sure the media would be here in a flash.”
I laughed and shook my head. My finger touched the doorbell again. This time, I punched it, at least, ten or twelve times.
“Don’t do that!” he shouted. “Leave now, Teresa, or else.”
His threats didn’t scare me away. And when I looked inside, I was pleased to see his white, red-headed wife coming down the stairs with a twisted face. She also had a silk robe on, and by the time she’d reached the door, Jeremy had already gone back inside and was standing in the foyer. The door was open; I remained on the porch.
“What’s going on down here?” she questioned while raking her hair ba
ck. She looked at me for answers, all I did was shrug.
“Ask your husband what’s going on. He knows for sure.”
She didn’t say one word to him. All she did was open the door wider to get a closer look at me.
“Aren’t you the president’s mother, Teresa? Why are you at our home at . . .”
Jeremy reached for her arm and attempted to pull her away from the door. “She came to tell me something important about the president. Our conversation is done and now we can go back to bed.”
He tried to shut the door in my face, but I pushed on the door and let myself inside. They both appeared shocked by my aggressiveness. Mrs. Blackstone was the first one to speak up.
“What in the hell is going on here? You can’t push your way into our home like this. Who do you think you are?”
“I was your husband’s sex partner, but I’m here tonight looking for answers.”
She gasped and touched her chest. With tears trapped in her eyes, she turned to her husband for answers.
“Is she telling the truth? She couldn’t be Jeremy, and is she, the president’s own mother, another one of your side-chicks?”
As he stood there looking silly with his mouth open, I replied to her question.
“Don’t insult me, okay? A side-chick wants to hang on to a man and get what she can from him. I don’t want anything else from Jeremy. You can keep that pint-sized penis. I have no idea how you stay married to a man with that little thing. You are way better than me for sure.”
“Enough,” Jeremy shouted and darted his finger at me with spit flying from his mouth. “Don’t you stand there lying to my wife about us! I have never, ever touched you, woman! Are you out of your freaking mind?”
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