Black President Season 2 Collection

by Brenda Hampton

“They have shrimp like this big,” she said, showing me the size of it with her hands. “Everything is seasoned to perfection and if you like lobster, get ready.”

  “Sounds too good to be true. I can’t wait and the last time I had some excellent seafood was in 1977.”

  She laughed and shook her head. “It hasn’t been that long, has it? And how can you remember the taste of food from that long ago?”

  “I remember everything. I may be old, but my memory is sharp.”

  We sat silent for a few minutes, and as the bright sun blocked my view a little, I lowered the visor.

  “I want to apologize to you for some of the things I’ve said and done,” I said to her. “I just want the best for my son and, sometimes, I go overboard to protect him. As a mother yourself, I’m sure you can understand. Our children mean everything to us and it’s so hard to let go, even when that child is president of the United States.”

  “I know exactly how you feel when it comes to our children. You don’t have to explain why you’re so overprotective, but all I ask is that you not interfere in regards to my relationship with Stephen. We’re already going to have many challenges going forward, and you know the media, whom I work for, is going to shame us in many ways. Regardless, I love him from the bottom of my heart and I’m looking forward to our future. I don’t know if he plans to ever remarry, but after my failed marriage, I’m not in a rush to do it all over again.”

  “What about having kids? Do you want more kids?”

  “I don’t mind having more kids, but Stephen and I will discuss that when the time comes. He is so amazing, Teresa. So many people in this country don’t know how lucky we are to have him as president. He’s going to help pass more life-changing legislation and I truly believe he will make his mark in history. There is something special about having a black president. They sure know how to get things done, against all odds.”

  I couldn’t have agreed with Michelle more. We were almost at the restaurant, but I had to stop and get gas. While I was at the gas station, I used the restroom. I had to open my purse to get my small container of disinfecting wipes and use them, before I handled my business. I also took a few swigs from the bottle of Hennessy in my purse. After I screwed on the cap, I popped a breath mint in my mouth. I then returned to the car where Michelle had cranked up the music and was snapping her fingers to a song.

  “Girl, Jill Scott be taking you there, don’t she?” I said. I drove off and cranked up the volume some more.

  “Yes, Ma’am,” Michelle said. “Jill be putting it down. I can’t wait to see her in concert next month. I hope Stephen will be able to go with me. He likes her singing too.”

  Yes, Stephen was a fan for sure, but not like I was. I blurted out the lyrics, and for whatever reason, I could feel my foot getting heavier on the accelerator. I didn’t even hear Michelle telling me to slow down, but when she yelled it louder and I slammed on the brakes, it was too late. A truck that was carrying an oversized load swerved around the corner and smashed into my car head on. All I remembered was glass shattering and numbness washing over me. After that, there was loud screaming and I was out of it.

  President of the United States

  Stephen C. Jefferson

  The day before my trip out of the country started off pretty messed up. I was sitting at my desk in the Oval Office when a package was delivered. I opened it, two things were inside. One stack of papers was a request for Dissolution of Marriage. The other was a manuscript titled, Black President: The World Will Never Be the Same. A sticky note was attached to it and Raynetta had written the words: I had to open the doors to my entire experience with you while at the White House. Feel free to read it; it was worth every penny to me.

  I flipped through the manuscript and wasn’t too pleased by some of the things I’d read. She’d written different segments and there was no question in my mind that Raynetta had been at this longer than I’d thought. As I continued to read her words, they were definitely true to who I was. She had made herself appear quite innocent, but what people didn’t always realize was there were always two or three sides to every story. My heart fell to my stomach when I read about how my mother was being portrayed. She definitely wasn’t going to appreciate this. I planned to reach out to Raynetta and see if it was too late for her to give me a chance to read the whole thing and request revisions. The second I picked up the phone to call her, Andrew appeared in the doorway, yelling at me.

  “Mr. President, come now! Your mother has been in a car accident! It’s pretty serious!”

  This time, my heart dropped to the floor. I rushed up from my chair, grabbed my jacket and blew by everyone inside of the White House who questioned what was so urgent. That included Raynetta who grabbed my arm to inquire.

  “What’s wrong, Stephen?” she asked. “Why are you running?”

  “It’s my mother. She’s been in an accident.”

  Raynetta said she would gather her things and follow me to the hospital. I was a nervous wreck—thoughts of losing her pained the shit out of me. I sat on the backseat of the Suburban, patting my foot on the floor while wringing my trembling hands together. Andrew sat across from me with his cell phone pressed up to his ear. He was waiting for a doctor to tell him the current condition of my mother.

  “I’ll wait,” he said to someone. “But can you—”

  I reached out and snatched the cell phone from his hand. “No, I will not wait!” I yelled. “I am president of the United States and I need to know, right now, the condition of my mother! Tell me now!”

  The woman responded in a shaky voice. “Mr. President, she’s in critical but stable condition. I prefer that you speak to the doctor who can give you specific details about her condition. I didn’t want to give you the wrong information. I apologize for the delay.”

  I tossed the phone back to Andrew and told him to end the call. At least she was still alive. I felt a little more relieved, until I got to the hospital and saw her lying in a hospital bed with IV’s injected in her hands and arms. Her face was riddled with cuts and bruises. Her head was wrapped with a bandage, and the second she saw me standing in the doorway, her eyes filled with tears. She closed them and tears rolled down her face.

  “Clear this whole area,” Secret Service ordered the entire hospital staff in emergency. “If you can, move some of the other non-life-threatening patients to another floor and halt all visitors on this floor. We don’t need this many doctors and nurses in here and those people out there shouldn’t be surrounding that door!”

  “Mr. President,” a woman outside of the door shouted. “Can I have your autograph?”

  “Dang, is the president’s mother dead? I think she died. Damn!”

  “I’m not moving. My father is in another room, and if they’re that privileged, they shouldn’t even be here. Send them to another hospital.”

  I ignored all the hoopla and stepped up to my mother with tears in my eyes. “Why did you scare me like this?” I asked while standing beside her bed. “You’re going to be okay, right?”

  She slowly nodded and swallowed hard. She struggled to open her mouth and when she did, the first words she said to me was, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I never meant to hurt you.”

  I touched her hand, squeezing it with mine. “What are you apologizing to me for? All I need to know is you’re going to be okay. Does anything hurt and is there anything I or one of the doctors can get you?”

  She moved her head from side-to-side, signaling no. Tears ran from the corners of her eyes and she kept staring at me. I don’t know why I felt like I was going to lose her, so in a panic, I turned to one of the doctors who was behind me, trying to clear the whole area with Secret Service.

  “Tell me what’s going on with her,” I said. “I need to know what happened.”

  The doctor nudged his head towards the corner of the room, and as I attempted to release my mother’s hand, she squeezed it tight, trying to hold on to it.

  “I’m not goi
ng anywhere,” I said to her. “I’m right here and I’ll be right back, okay?”

  Her tears kept flowing. She opened her dry mouth to speak again. “Forgive me, baby, I am so sorry.”

  I wasn’t so sure what she kept apologizing for, until I started conversing with the doctor.

  “Thankfully, and by the grace of God, your mother is going to be okay. She suffered a concussion, broke some bones in her arms and leg and we stitched some of the abrasions on her face. It will be a while before the swelling subsides and she may need to schedule physical therapy. We won’t know until everything starts to heal. I still want to run a few more tests on her, just to make sure all of her organs are functioning properly. You don’t know how pleased I am to share this news with you, considering what could have happened to her while driving under the influence of alcohol. Her BAC, blood alcohol content, was at .16 percent, which is way too high to drive. That’s why she was unable to see a truck coming around the curve and she smashed right into it.”

  It felt like the doctor had punched me in my stomach and taken the breath out of me. In a flash, my concern turned into anger. She knew better than to be driving with a BAC that high. No words could express how disappointed I was; I’d warned her, time and time again, about drinking too much.

  The doctor released a deep sigh and continued to go in on my mother. “She had to know that drinking that much alcohol would cause serious harm. And while she was able to get through this, her passenger wasn’t as lucky.”

  My face twisted; heart started to beat a little bit faster. “Someone else was in the car with her?” I immediately thought about Malik. I’d told her to leave that fool alone, but I guess she couldn’t resist him. Those thoughts angered me more. “Male or female?”

  “Female. We’re in the process of trying to reach her family so they can come to the hospital.”

  My face was still scrunched; I hadn’t a clue who the female passenger could’ve been because my mother, intentionally, didn’t have many friends. Then again, maybe she did and I just didn’t know about them.

  “What’s the woman’s name? Is she going to, eventually, be okay? Maybe I can help you get in touch with her family.”

  The doctor reached in his pocket and pulled out a notepad. He examined what he had written on it. Right then, I heard my mother calling my name. I was upset with her for causing all this trouble, so in the moment, I ignored her and didn’t turn around.

  “The, uh, woman’s name was Michelle. Michelle Peoples, and unfortunately, sir, she didn’t make it.”

  I stood for a moment, believing I was unclear about what he’d said. My whole body was frozen and I couldn’t even force my mouth open to speak. All I did was snatch the notepad from the doctor’s hand so I could see with my own eyes the name he’d written. Michelle’s name was, indeed, on the paper and when my watery eyes gazed at the doctor, he appeared nervous and in shock too.

  “Wha . . .What do you mean, did you say?” I stuttered and tried to catch my breath. “Did you say she didn’t make it? Didn’t make what?”

  He appeared afraid to answer me. And before I knew it, I grabbed his collar and pushed him against the wall. “She didn’t make what!” I shouted and banged him harder. “Answer my fucking question and tell me where she’s at!”

  “She’s in the last room down the hall, but you can’t go in there, sir! You can’t—”

  I released him—he fell to the floor. I ran so fast out of the room that I didn’t even take a split second to look at my mother who kept calling me. Andrew yelled after me too and so did Secret Service.

  “Mr. President, stop! Wait, please!” Andrew said. “I’m coming with you!”

  “Sir, we still haven’t cleared the area! This is an unsafe environment!”

  I hurried down the hallway, damn near falling on my ass as I slipped on the wet floor in my leather shoes. And when I reached the last room to the left, I pushed the door open and entered. Lying on a gurney was a badly bruised stiff body with a sheet partially over it. I had nothing left in me as I grabbed the sheet with my tightened fist and slowly pulled it away from the person lying there. It was Michelle. I gasped, and as so many tears proceeded to rain down my face, I just stared at her without a single blink. She wasn’t moving, wasn’t breathing, there was no smile and I had never seen her eyes closed so tight. It felt like I was in another world. There was a horrible ache in my throat, my legs felt weak and my heart was beating so fast it was about to explode. I blinked fast, and as I was finally able to open my mouth, I started to plead with her to get up.

  “Come on, baby,” I said sternly. I sucked in a deep breath and leaned over her. “Don’t fuck with me like this, please. This is a joke, right? You . . . You and my mother are trying to get me back. I know I’ve done some horrible shit, but get up for me, please. Don’t you dare lay there and leave me like this. This isn’t happening and I need you to get up!”

  I smacked my tears away and wiped snot that poured over my trembling lips and dripped from my chin. I then wrapped my arms around her, and since she didn’t hug me back, I directed her arms over my shoulders and lifted her from the gurney.

  “Let’s go home,” I said, holding her tight. “To your place or back to the Farmhouse, if you want to. We need to get out of here, baby. I . . . I can’t leave you here like this. No way, and I need for you to get up.”

  As I turned with Michelle in my arms, two Secret Service agents stood like mannequins at the door. Andrew was there, too, down on one knee with his head hanging low. The doctor stood closest to me. With fiery eyes and flush cheeks, he was overcome with emotion.

  “She . . . She can’t go with you, Mr. President, I’m sorry. We did everything we could to save her, but her injuries were too severe. If you know how to reach her family, please do call them. I’m so sorry about this. No words can express how sorry I am for your loss.”

  Her family, I thought as I closed my eyes. Her children, her mother and father . . . sister whom she was so close with. I was so damn distraught, and as I stepped forward with her still in my arms, the doctor stood in front of me.

  “Move out of my way,” I said softly. “We need to go. Now, if you don’t mind.”

  Like always, Andrew came to the rescue. He stood and walked up to me.

  “You can’t take her, Mr. President, but trust me when I tell you she’ll be okay. She’s already okay and I know she wants you to be okay too. Lay her down and let her stay here for a little while. It’ll only be for a short while and then she’ll,” Andrew paused. He was choked up and couldn’t even give me the advice I needed.

  “And then what?” I said as I laid her back down on the gurney. I rubbed the side of her face while gazing at her head that was slumped to the side. “What, Andrew?” I asked. “Do . . . Do you think I should give her a kiss? Can I kiss her?”

  “Sure, Mr. President. One last kiss and then we need to go.”

  My tears dripped on the side of her face, and after I kissed her cheek a few times, I stood up straight. I unbuttoned my suit jacket and cocked my tense neck from one side to the other. My heart felt too heavy for my chest, and as I left the room, Secret Service followed. Every single eye in the hospital was on me as I stared straight ahead. So much was a blur to me, and when I entered the room where my mother was at again, I didn’t know what to say. I plopped down in a chair right beside her bed, just staring at her. She cried out to me, once again, telling me how sorry she was.

  “You have to believe me when I say I never meant for this to happen. Michelle and I were on our way to dinner. We had reconciled our differences and everything. All of a sudden, that truck got in my way. It swerved into my lane and I tried my best to avoid it.”

  I didn’t move. She got no response from me, nor did Raynetta when she came into the room, dabbing her watery eyes with tissue.

  “Are you listening to me, Stephen?” my mother asked. “I don’t know what you’re thinking right now, but say something to—”

  She coughed and
cried. Sobbed more like it, but in no way was I moved. This was it for me. It was the last straw, and after this, as far as I was concerned, my mother had died in that accident too.

  “Stephen,” Raynetta said as she stood by the door. “Why don’t you go—”

  She paused when three police officers entered the room. They looked at me and I quickly stood up. I secured the only button on my suit jacket and released another deep sigh.

  “Lock her up,” I said to the officers. “She needs to go to jail for manslaughter and I want her arrested right now.”

  One of the officers reached for his handcuffs. And not in the mood to witness any of this go down, I walked out the door, ignoring Raynetta who had more drama to write in her fucking book. I heard one officer read my mother her rights. She screamed after me.

  “Stephen, come back here! Clean this shit up and don’t you let them do this to me! I will start snitching and believe me when I say your hands are just as dirty as mine! Even more dirty and don’t let me tell them the real truth about General Stiles! I know and I will tell it! Tell it all . . .”

  Her voice faded as I walked away, feeling like I was floating on air. So many people were speaking to me, but I couldn’t hear a thing. I ordered Secret Service to drive me to Michelle’s place, and right after I put the key in the door and opened it, her sweet scent hit me. I looked in the empty living room area and then at the clean kitchen where thawed chicken was on the counter. Couldn’t help but to think about her cooking dinner for me at the Farmhouse, and just for a few seconds, I saw her pretty self standing in front of the sink.

  “What are you doing here, Mr. President?” she asked. “You know you should’ve called?”

  As she smiled at me, I proceeded down the hallway. One of the pictures on the wall of her beautiful children was crooked. I straightened it and felt a severe pain in my stomach as I’d thought more about them and their future. I walked further down the hallway and into her bedroom. Stood in the doorway for a moment, gazing at the empty bed that was topped with a thick cream-colored comforter and lots of fluffy pillows.