by Pace, Pepper
“However,” Lydia continued. “I’d rather you flake out now than later.” She picked up a sheet of paper and replaced her glasses, dismissing Vanessa with that one action.
Vanessa nodded and turned to leave.
“Vanessa,” Miss Lydia said before she reached the door. Vanessa looked over her shoulder at the woman.
“If I were you I would change my name because I intend to make sure that Vanessa Tremont never gets another call-back in New York.”
Vanessa turned the knob and walked out the door. “I’m sorry you feel that way.” She closed the door behind her while her body shook in frustration and anguish.
Miss Lydia would likely never know how hard it had been to turn away her dreams.
Vanessa couldn’t help the tears that filled her eyes as she rode the subway back to the babysitter’s house. But as soon as she lifted her son into her arms she felt better. Soon she didn’t care about Miss Lydia’s threats. She inhaled the baby scent of her son and knew that she had made the right decision.
The show had never made her feel the fulfillment that just holding her son in her arms did.
“We’ll try it again later,” She whispered to him as she carried him home. “Maybe when you’re older.” But Vanessa already knew that it would never be easy to leave her son in the way necessary for her to travel with a theater group.
Every six weeks he would need to have a new cast placed on his tiny leg. And although it didn’t hurt him, seeing the stiff plaster hurt her. For once she was able to ignore the stares of the passer-bys who undoubtedly thought that she had caused the injury.
That night Charisma got home to the apartment that the two women shared. Vanessa gave her a pensive look.
Charisma dumped her things on the sofa and fell tiredly on top of them.
“Miss Lydia and Derek were HOT. Girl, I’m not even exaggerating when I tell you that he was almost in tears.”
Vanessa covered her face. “I feel bad but it had to be done.” Derek, the choreographer, had given her a chance when no one had ever heard of her. She hated letting him down most of all.
Charisma got up and patted her friend’s shoulders before retreating to the kitchen for a soda pop. She knew how much Vanessa had agonized over the decision to leave the production. But it was only going to get harder. Crash was going to become more demanding as he got older before things with him tamed down. She was beginning to wonder if a career wouldn’t happen for her friend until the boy was in preschool.
The two friends had both been in a fantasy world when she had invited Vanessa to come to New York. Charisma knew that with Vanessa’s talents and look she would easily find her some kind of work. Charisma had even assured her that she could be a single mother just as easily in Ohio as in New York.
Besides, Vanessa was in a bad place. Charisma knew that if she stayed in Ohio she would only end up getting on welfare and putting her dreams on hold. That boyfriend who had committed murder had been right in forcing her to move on, even if it was cold-blooded that he didn’t show even the smallest consideration for his son. Well that was his loss because even with the frequent doctor visits, late night crying and poopy diapers, Crash was the most precious thing in the world.
None of Charisma’s ideas had panned out the way she had intended. None of the agents wanted to sign Vanessa while she was pregnant and then the baby had nearly died and a crash-cart had to be called in to help him resume breathing.
Every since then his nick-name of Crash had stuck.
Charisma had grown to love the little boy as if he was her own, but having a baby around took some getting used to—even one as precious as her Godson.
“Is Crash asleep?” Charisma asked.
“Yeah I just put him down.” Vanessa began to pace. “Miss Lydia said that she was going to make sure the name Vanessa Tremont never got another call-back.”
“That bitch!” She sat down and gave her friend a sympathetic look. “It’s a good thing that Vanessa Tremont isn’t your real name.”
Vanessa’s eyes flashed at her before she looked away. She’d taken comfort in the name, but no, it would never be her true name.
“Look, don’t worry about Lilly McDermott. When you return to the scene no ones going to deny you. We just have to bide our time.”
Vanessa smiled. Charisma was a Godsend. Her friend had taken her under her wing and had even allowed her to move in even knowing that there would soon be a baby joining them.
Financially it helped but she was running out of money fast and she needed work. Crash had to be seen by a specialist and Medicaid would not cover the cost.
“I need to bring in some money, Charisma.”
“Well remember that review I was telling you about?”
Vanessa nodded. Charisma had considered doing a Las Vegas type presentation for one of the larger Manhattan hotels but the call had gone out for A Tender Heart which she had accepted instead.
“Let me make some calls.”
“I appreciate that! Thanks Charisma. “Her friend had a number of connections. Charisma was not only a talented actress but she loved the party scene and she had an agent that knew the value of exposure and made sure she had an endless supply of parties to attend—and as a result a endless supply of connections.
“I got your back.”
Chapter Two
Vanessa knew that her bond to Crash was strong. From the outside some might determine the reason for that was based on the recent losses in her life. She’d left the only city that she knew. She had lost her best friend and then her grandmother—the last family member that she had. And then she had lost the man she loved and his family that had begun to feel like her own family.
So it would only be natural for others to contribute her bond to Crash with all of the losses of her life. Except Vanessa had not loved Crash when he was born.
Giving birth was less like bringing forth a new life and more like losing a familiar friend.
Vanessa missed the entity that shared her body. She missed talking to her baby and cupping her hands over her belly. Once he entered the world nearly two months early and so small that he looked like a tiny, fragile kitten, Vanessa barely knew what to make of the little being. She could not reconcile that the baby in the incubator was the same child that had grown inside of her.
Later she would contribute it to the way they had whisked him away right after his birth. But deep down she knew that wasn’t it. After a day of trying to stop the labor the doctors had ushered the baby into the world and while she was still groggy and in pain, they had whisked him away. She had been in a panic and had begged to see her baby. Later they told her that her little one had stopped breathing and she felt like fainting at the thought of a crash cart being rushed in and breathing tubes being inserted down his tiny throat.
They’d finally gotten him stable enough to allow her to be wheeled into the ICU and Vanessa had stared down at the poor little baby—but she felt like looking around for her own child. Where was the baby that had been growing inside of her? She didn’t know this sick little infant.
For a while she mourned the loss of her pregnancy at the same time that she cradled the delicate infant housed in the ICU unit. She felt for him just like any person would feel for a sick baby—but not the way a mother would feel about her own baby.
It scared her that the baby she had named Matthew Scott Tremont felt so disconnected from her. How could this be possible when she had loved and wanted this child with every being of her soul? And yet she no longer felt the connection and bond that she had experienced with the infant that had been developing inside of her.
It was Charisma that began calling him Crash. Vanessa called him nothing but ‘him’. If anyone suspected Vanessa’s feelings it was Charisma who held him and loved on him and cooed to him—filling in the missing pieces that Vanessa was unable to.
Vanessa was too ashamed to admit how she felt to anyone. She knew nothing about post-partum depression. She only knew that she was
afraid to take the baby home.
The nurses thought she was a wonderful mother. She came to nurse him and to pump her milk for him. She would hold him and rock in the chair, staring at the baby that didn’t even look like she could have birthed him.
He was white—not toasty brown or milk chocolate but white and pink. Even premature he had a shock of light hair that stuck up in a cowlick. It was as blond as his father’s hair and his eyes, which began as slate blue soon lightened to a pale cornflower blue.
Vanessa had dreamed of looking into her child’s face and seeing Scotty. She had imagined feeling their connection through the life that they had created.
But that was not the case.
Crash was becoming stronger and too soon it was time to take him home. Charisma was more excited about it than Vanessa who was terrified that she would never feel the connection that a mother should feel for their child.
The doctor was giving him his well-baby physical for his release when he stopped and frowned. The doctor ran his hands down the baby’s leg and began flexing one foot and then the next.
“Hmm … “ he stated, his frown deepening.
“What’s wrong?” Vanessa asked. Charisma had gotten a car so that they wouldn’t have to bring the baby on the subway and she was waiting for them in the parking lot.
The doctor turned to her with a look of regret on his face. “We missed something. If my guess is correct I believe that Matthew might have something wrong with his feet.”
Vanessa’s heart began to thud in her chest. “What’s wrong with his feet?” She looked down at her baby who didn’t move his legs, who just stared at her with his shocking blue eyes. Was he paralyzed? His little feet were fat and pink and he had ten beautiful little toes.
“His toes are curled and his feet are pulled down.” The doctor stated. He began to gently move the baby’s feet but it was evident that they were stiff and would move back to a pointed position once he stopped pushing them up. “It’s very slight but there is a definite bilateral curve beginning at the ankles.”
Crash began to cry and Vanessa scooped him up in her arms. Her heart was thudding in her chest and sweat began to bead up on her brow.
“What does that mean?” Her voice was cracked as she cradled her son against her neck.
“Well, it’s a common enough birth defect. But I believe your son has CTEV--what you might know as club foot effecting both of Matthew’s feet.”
“Club feet?” Her voice rose. “What does that mean?”
“It means that his feet won’t straighten out. Unfortunately the treatment is not a quick fix and if left untreated it would affect his ability to walk.”
“Are you saying that my son could be crippled?”
The doctor paused. “His handicap isn’t futuristic. He is crippled now. It just doesn’t show because he is too young to walk.”
Tears began to sting Vanessa’s eyes and she held her son closer to her, feeling his small little body resting contently against her. She had yet to realize that every bit of love that she had the capacity to feel had sprung to life and flooded through her and into her son. It would be months before she remembered a time when she had doubted her ability to ever truly love him.
“Don’t worry Mom. The treatment is very optimistic. I’ll give you the phone number to an orthopedic specialist that deals with infants. You will want to contact him right away because treatment is best if started within weeks of birth and it’s already been nearly a month.”
The doctor left her with Crash to get the phone number and other information on congenital talipes equinovarus while Vanessa paced and snuggled her son. He had fallen asleep and she inhaled his baby scent and kissed his soft cheek as she promised that everything would be all right.
“I will flip burgers-“ Vanessa stated while pacing.
“You are not going to flip burgers.” Charisma said calmly. “Just let me call Jackson from the Stone Street Review. Once he hears you singing I know you’ll get a job.” It had been two days since she had been black balled by Miss Lillian.
Vanessa hugged Charisma. But she had been thinking about going home. She hadn’t run out of money yet but Crash’s treatments weren’t cheap. He went to a specialist that dealt with CTEV where his feet were regularly manipulated by hand. Unfortunately the treatment he received wasn’t covered by Medicare, which only wanted to give him surgery.
The specialist was against beginning with surgery and used it as a last result. He wanted six months of foot manipulation and casting and then wanted Crash placed in a foot abduction brace.
She paid him out of pocket willingly. She was afraid every day that she was making a mistake, but knew that she wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she just gave into the surgery and later his calves atrophied or his tendons and muscles lost the ability to stretch.
If she didn’t get a job that could cover her expenses she would go back home to her grandmother because despite everything her grandmother was sure to say about how she’d handled her life, there was at least sixty-thousand dollars there that could be put to good use.
Charisma arranged for a tryout with Jackson Monroe’s newest endeavor. He had been in the NFL and with the money he had left over decided to create a Las Vegas style show geared to the Hip Hop crowd.
Due to his high profile name and reputation, Jackson got investors and opened his show to one of the hotels on Stone Street. And a short time later Stone Street Hip Hop Review was born.
Vanessa and Charisma showed up at the hotel dressed to the T and with their make-up on point. Vanessa had allowed Charisma to talk her into wearing a skimpy black beaded dress that barely covered her ass. And her heels were so high that she felt seven feet tall!
Charisma would be her spokes person since she had partied with Jackson in the past. Vanessa was disappointed once they arrived at the hotel to learn that Jackson wasn’t exactly a friend but a very casual acquaintance.
“How do you know Jackson?” Vanessa had asked as they entered the club where the Review took place.
Charisma looked around in surprise. Vanessa shared her friend’s expression of awe. It was opulent and gaudy with too much red and gold and velvet. It felt like a whorehouse.
“Uh …” Charisma stuttered. “I don’t really know him. But I was introduced to him at a party.”
Vanessa’s eyes moved to her friend who appeared slightly guilty. “He knows I’m only nineteen, right?” It was a club that sold liquor and she shouldn’t even be walking through the front door.
Charisma clutched her arm and pulled her forward. “About that—just don’t mention it. Let me handle that part.”
“Charisma!”
But her friend just dragged her forward into the club where men and women sat at tables that were served by girls dressed in corsets and skimpy skirts. Vanessa looked around the dim room. There was a good crowd but no one was dancing. They were seated or milling at the bar listening to DeBarge’s I Like It.
Suddenly the music faded and a curtain lifted revealing a stage at the front of the club. A woman with humongous hair sauntered onto the stage as the first strands of Diana Ross’s Muscles began to play. The woman began to sing a nice rendition of the song and was soon joined by half a dozen half dressed men.
Vanessa looked at Charisma in shock.
“This is a strip club!”
Several men and women rushed onto the stage and began dancing and acting as backup singers while gyrating suggestively.
“Well for fucks sake!” Charisma scowled. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Wait.” Vanessa watched the performers but mostly she watched the singer.
“I can do that.” She said without taking her eyes from the woman who was getting cheers from the crowd.
Charisma watched the performance with an analytical eye.
“Are you sure?”
Vanessa’s eyes narrowed in resolution as she thought about Crash’s medical bills.
“Yes.”
Jackson Monroe took one look at Vanessa and said no.
“But you haven’t even heard her sing-“ Charisma began.
“She’s too skinny.” Jackson was sitting behind a desk that seemed more of a prop then something that he actually used. Vanessa placed her hands on her hips. His words confirmed that this gig was about sex and not about talent. She was about to ask him if all it took to get a job was a big ass and big titties because she could buy those. Instead Charisma spoke up for her.
“Vanessa might be skinny-“ Vanessa gave her friend a sharp look, “but you can’t deny that she’s a knock-out. And not only is she a knock-out but she can sing. No she can SANGGG!
Jackson was smoking a cigar the way men who thought they looked important did. Vanessa watched him wanting to both turn her nose up at him and walk out with her talent and beg for the job that would help her take care of her and her son. She decided on the latter.
“Mr. Monroe I can sing and I can dance. I graduated from the School of Performing Arts.”
Jackson raised a brow. “Where you from, girl? You talk country.”
Vanessa wanted to tell him that he talked stupid but didn’t.
“I’m from Cincinnati.”
“Midwest girl.” His eyes moved up and down her body. It didn’t give her the creeps because he didn’t seem to be impressed. But then his eyes settled on her face and lingered there.
“Alright. Sing something. You got thirty seconds.”
Vanessa’s mouth parted. “Here?”
Jackson looked at his watch. “Twenty-eight seconds.”
Her vocal chords suddenly began to work and A Change is Gonna Come drifted out into the room.
She hadn’t gotten two words out of her mouth before Jackson’s eyes widened and he removed the cigar from his mouth.
Vanessa knew that she sang in a voice that was deep and true and what others might consider older than someone her age should ever be able to manage. In that moment Vanessa sang as if she was bringing church to the club and when she finished the song Jackson whispered four words.
