White Lines II: Sunny: A Novel

by Tracy Brown

  Sunny waved her off. “You just have to know how to handle the media. You have to shut that shit down.”

  Jada laughed at how easy Sunny made it sound. “Mindy brought up Dorian being killed at your baby shower and you wanted to fight her!”

  Sunny chuckled, set her glass down and sat back. “I almost killed that bitch that day.”

  Jada chuckled, too. “That’s the part that I’m not feeling. A book is one thing. We can write our ‘fiction’ and hide behind characters named Charlene and Alexis. But with a movie … they’re not asking to base the movie on a character. They want to base this movie on us. I’m not feeling that. It’s only gonna be a matter of time before some reporter starts bringing up my old crack-addicted days.” Jada’s face turned serious. “I don’t need that. Sheldon is watching. And Lord knows Born don’t need any reminders about who I used to be. He’s finally trusting me again and I don’t want to resurrect any old doubts.” She shook her head. “For me the answer is no, Sunny.”

  Finally, Sunny shrugged.

  “Suit yourself,” she said.

  Jada knew that her decision disappointed Sunny. Jada felt that Sunny had saved her life, literally, years ago. She had been there for her in ways that no one else had. But Jada had to be true to her gut.

  Sunny looked at her sideways. “So will you still come out to L.A. with me even though you’re not down with the project? You can just come as my friend.”

  Jada smiled. “Of course I’m coming. Just cuz I’m bowing out of the movie doesn’t mean that I don’t plan to enjoy all the perks! Bitch, if you meet Idris, I’m meeting Idris!”

  Both ladies laughed and finished their brunch. Jada insisted on paying the check this time, and Sunny reluctantly agreed.

  “Time for some retail therapy!” Jada rubbed her hands together in anticipation.

  “Saks, here we come! Last one to the car is a rotten egg!” Sunny took off as soon as she said it and Jada was hot on her heels. The two friends ran off in the direction of Jada’s car, giggling like schoolgirls—their differences behind them for now.

  * * *

  Anisa sat on the sofa in the living room of the home she shared with her son on Bement Avenue in Staten Island. Born had bought the home years ago, and while the deed was in his name, she lived there without having to pay any bills. He gave Anisa an “allowance” each month—enough to cover Ethan’s tuition, groceries, and incidentals. Each month, she piled the bills together—electric, gas, water, cable, etc.—and handed them to Born. He happily paid them, figuring that as long as Ethan lived with her that he owed it to Anisa to make sure that she had no worries. She worked part-time as a receptionist at a dentist’s office, more for a way to spend her time than for the money. It gave her a reason to get out of the house each day and it kept her from being bored.

  Born walked in with Ethan in tow and she smiled at them. Ethan ran to give her a hug and she giggled at the fact that he was still a mama’s boy, even as he grew almost as tall as she was.

  Ethan kissed her on the cheek and then showed her his new video game. “Can I go play it now?” he asked, aware that it was close to dinnertime.

  “Go ahead,” she said. “Dinner won’t be ready for a little while, so you have time to play your game.”

  Immediately, Ethan took off for the stairs. “Bye, Daddy!” he yelled over his shoulder. “Love you!”

  Born laughed, happy that his boy was happy. “Love you, too, son.”

  He looked at Anisa as she sat with one foot tucked beneath her on the sofa. Anisa was a pretty woman and Born was grateful that she was also a good mother. She had slithered into his life years ago when he was estranged from Jada. After he came out of prison, Anisa had gotten pregnant with Ethan. After their son was born, it became clear to him that he wasn’t in love with her the way that he had been with Jada. As much as he cared for her, she just didn’t have his heart.

  In the years since then, it seemed that she had never moved on. Despite his reconciliation with Jada, Anisa still wasn’t dating anybody seriously. Born was grateful for that, since he didn’t like the thought of another man around his son. But as he prepared to drop the bomb on her that he and Jada were getting married, he kind of wished she had someone in her life to soften the blow.

  He sat beside her on the couch and watched her put down the novel she’d been reading when he entered—The Grain by Shawn Berry. Anisa wore a pair of leggings and a sweater, her feet bare. Her hair, as usual, was perfect, cut into a Chinese bob with blunt bangs. Her perfect bone structure and glorious smile only added to her beauty as she looked at him.

  “What’s up?” she asked. Born seldom lingered anymore after dropping Ethan off. At one time, the two of them had shared a physical relationship, sleeping together whenever they felt the urge. But once he and Jada had become official, those days were over. Their relationship was purely platonic and their conversations were merely cordial. As he sat beside her on this day, she wondered what the reason for his visit was.

  “Well,” he began, “I need to tell you something.”

  “I’m listening.” She was already frowning. This sounded serious. She prayed that Jada wasn’t pregnant. She enjoyed her position as Born’s only baby’s mama. The last thing she wanted was for that bitch Jada to challenge that position.

  Born cleared his throat. “I umm … I asked Jada to marry me.” He watched Anisa’s facial expression change from curious to angry in an instant. “She said yes.” He waited for Anisa to say something. When she didn’t, he rubbed his hands together uneasily. “I thought you should hear it from me.”

  Anisa was livid. Her lips were tightly pursed together and she stared at Born in silence for several awkward moments. She knew that their relationship was over, that he had reconciled with Jada long ago. But somewhere deep down inside, she had held out hope that things between he and Jada would run its course. After all, she had smoked crack, sold her body, had a baby by his sworn enemy and spent time in jail. Anisa’s only misdeed had been abandoning Born during his incarceration years ago. She felt that when their track records were compared, eventually Born would see who was obviously the better choice for his future. Anisa felt that she was the clear winner in that contest.

  “Say something,” he pleaded. The silence was deafening.

  She shook her head at him. “What do you want me to say, Born? You’re marrying a crack whore. Congratulations.”

  He told himself that Anisa was obviously hurt. Still, her words were like a slap in his face. He shook his head. “I came in here to tell you the news before you heard it on the street, cuz that’s what a real man would do. And that’s your reaction? That’s what you have to say to me?” He shook his head again. This conversation only confirmed for him that he was making the right choice. Anisa could be a real bitch when she wanted to.

  She looked so angry, so disappointed that he found it difficult to maintain eye contact with her. “I always thought you were smart,” she said. “But this is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.” She smiled, though she found nothing funny. The whole situation was unbelievable to her. “She crossed you before. She went back to getting high and you were forced to get rid of her. And now … what, you think that won’t happen again?” She laughed, as if the idea were absurd. “Whatever,” she said, shaking her head in dismay. “You do what you want to do. Good luck with that.”

  She got up and went to the kitchen to check on dinner. She listened as he left the house, shutting the door behind him. She watched as he climbed into his car, and drove off. Only then did she let the tears fall from her eyes.

  5

  SWITCHING LANES

  “This is fantastic news, Sunny! A movie?” Olivia shook her head in astonishment.

  Sunny was all smiles as she sat on the sofa in Olivia’s office at Shootin’ Crooks. The two of them had spent the afternoon with their lawyers, going over the contracts for Sunny to become the official spokesmodel for Olivia’s clothing line. They had signed the deal, dismissed th
eir attorneys, and cracked open a bottle of Krug champagne to celebrate.

  “I can’t wait to finalize all the details and get started filming!” Sunny said, taking a sip of the expensive bubbly.

  “When do you do that?”

  “Next week. Jada and I are flying out to L.A. to meet with the film company Malcolm told us about. Hopefully, it all goes well and we can get started right away. Between the Vintage launch and the movie deal, things are about to really take off for me, Olivia. It’s so unreal that I feel like pinching myself!”

  Olivia smiled at her, knowing exactly how she felt. She got the same feeling whenever she thought about the Vintage brand going global. “You know that Dorian is smiling down on you, Sunny, don’t you?”

  Sunny nodded. “I believe he would be proud.”

  Olivia watched her closely. She knew Sunny well enough to know that there was something she wasn’t saying. “You really believe that?”

  Sunny met Olivia’s gaze, and knew that her cover was blown. She smiled, realizing that their friendship was so genuine that Olivia saw right through her. “Yes and no,” Sunny admitted. She sipped her champagne before explaining. “Dorian loved me. I know he did. He showered me with nothing but the best the whole time we were together. But he didn’t want all of this for me. The fame, the modeling, the spotlight—he always thought that those things were too much for me to handle; like I’d be playing with fire by being in the entertainment business. When I got with him, I sort of put my own dreams aside. I was fresh out of high school, impressionable and all that. And he controlled me.”

  Olivia smirked at that. “You?” She shook her head. “Nobody has ever controlled you a day in your life!”

  Sunny chuckled at the truth in her friend’s statement. “Well, he tried!” She drained her glass. “Getting high, and stashing some of the money he made—that was my way of snatching back some kind of control. And, to be honest with you, Olivia…” Sunny’s voice trailed off as she realized she had never told anyone what she was about to share with Olivia. “That was the best time of my life. I can honestly say that if I could go back and do it all again, I wouldn’t change a single thing.”

  Olivia’s smile faded slightly. “Sure you would.” Olivia stared at her, certain that Sunny would change all the years she’d spent snorting blow up her nose.

  Sunny shook her head. “No. I wouldn’t change a thing,” she reiterated. “In fact, I miss the woman that I was back then.”

  Olivia frowned. “I’m confused.”

  Sunny refilled her glass. “I was fearless back then. I had fun! But then I became a mother, and Dorian died, so I became solely responsible for providing for my entire family. Now, I play it safe. I stopped partying and being spontaneous. And I’m miserable, Olivia. Every day I put on a good poker face and I keep a stiff upper lip. But at the end of the day I miss the life I used to live, and I’m sick of going through the motions.”

  Olivia held out her glass for a refill as well. “I had no idea you felt like that, Sunny.”

  Sunny filled her friend’s glass, then sat back and took a sip from her own. “I’ve been too ashamed to admit that being Mercedes’s mom is not enough anymore. I’m not saying that I don’t love my daughter.”

  Olivia shook her head. “You don’t have to clarify that. I know exactly what you’re saying.”

  “Do you really?” Sunny asked.

  “I do. In fact, I’m going through something similar with Zion now. People think that being a wifey and a mom is supposed to be enough to satisfy you one hundred percent. But I know how it feels to still want more.”

  Sunny nodded. “I’m done going through the motions. Now that I’m doing this Vintage launch with you and working on this movie deal, I’m gonna start living life on my terms again. I want to get back to the fun I used to have.”

  Olivia looked at Sunny over the rim of her glass, wondering specifically what kind of fun Sunny was referring to. But before she could inquire, Lamin and Zion entered the conference room, fresh off a video shoot. Olivia couldn’t help noticing that they were outfitted in ways that reflected their personality. Zion, still married to the streets after all these years, wore a pair of dark denim jeans and a Polo sweater. Lamin was dressed in a tapered Armani suit.

  Zion and Lamin greeted the ladies, and Zion walked over and kissed Olivia tenderly on her lips.

  “Sorry to break up your good time, ladies, but we need to pick up Adiva from your grandmother’s house.” Zion could see that Olivia and Sunny were enjoying the half-empty bottle of champagne on the table. But it was getting late, he had had a long day, and he was eager to get home to unwind with his family.

  Olivia started to point out that he could go and get Adiva by himself; that she could meet him at home. But instead of making a scene, she decided to acquiesce. She looked at Sunny, and set down her glass. “Sorry, girl.”

  “Don’t apologize,” Sunny said, waving her hand as if the notion was silly.

  “She’s in good hands,” Lamin said as he sat down. “I’ll help her finish off the bottle.”

  Olivia smirked, aware that her brother had a crush on Sunny. “Well, behave yourselves,” she said. “Sunny, I’ll call you tomorrow.” Olivia kissed her friend on the cheek and she and Zion made their exit.

  Lamin smiled at Sunny across the table.

  Sunny smiled back, shaking her head. “Lamin, don’t think you’re gonna get me drunk and take advantage of me.”

  He laughed. “No, not at all. In fact, I think you said that because you have a guilty conscience. I should be the one worried about being taken advantage of.”

  Sunny shook her head at him.

  He sighed, and poured himself some Krug into the glass his sister had left behind. “Long day,” he said. “I’m suing for custody of my son, and I had to appear in court early this morning.”

  “Oh, that’s why you’re all dressed up.” Sunny paused for a moment. “Why are you fighting for custody, if you don’t mind me asking? Is Dream a bad mom?”

  Lamin nodded. “She’s a bad everything. And I don’t think my son is getting the attention he deserves.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. I wish you luck with your case.” She drained her glass and looked at Lamin. “You’re a good guy. I always admire men who stand up and take care of their kids.”

  Lamin shrugged. “I’m not looking for any pat on the back or anything. I just want my son to be well taken care of.”

  Sunny nodded. “Every kid deserves that.” She wished that Mercedes had the benefit of her father’s presence. Dorian would have been a fantastic dad.

  She felt a twinge of sadness tugging at her heart. She decided that it was time for her to make her exit. “Well, Lamin, I’m gonna call it a night. I have to get my affairs in order so that I can fly to L.A. in a couple of days.” She pulled out her BlackBerry to call Raul to come get her.

  Lamin stopped her. “I’ll bring you home,” he said. “On one condition.”

  Sunny raised an eyebrow. “And what’s that?”

  “You have to be my date tonight for my friend’s premiere at the Ziegfeld Theatre. It’s a documentary about America’s obsession with reality TV and how it affects the so-called celebrities that star in them.” He rolled his eyes. “Sounds boring as fuck to me! But if you come with me, I think I could actually enjoy myself.”

  Sunny hesitated, but not for long. After all, it was a Friday night in New York City, and Mercedes was with Dorian’s mom for the weekend. Sunny had no plans of her own and really didn’t feel like going home just yet. She assessed her outfit and was pleased that she was always camera ready. She wore a black and white, zebra-patterned jumpsuit belted at the waist with red leather. Her peep-toe Louboutins were the perfect finishing touch.

  “Okay,” she agreed. She tucked her phone back in her BCBG clutch and followed Lamin as he bid good night to his staff and walked out to the garage where his car was parked. Once inside Lamin’s Audi, she flipped through the radio stations until she found
one that she liked.

  Lamin shook his head. “Don’t you know that touching a brother’s car radio is just as bad as messing up a sister’s hair?”

  Sunny laughed. “Nothing is worse than messing up our hair! But I get your point. My bad.”

  Lamin pulled out of the garage, and drove uptown. “Why are you still single, Sunny? Beautiful woman like you—nice body, fresh breath … What’s the problem?”

  Sunny laughed. “I’m a lot to handle. And I haven’t found a man who’s up for the task.”

  He glanced at her sidelong. “You’re looking at him.”

  She watched him closely, noticing that he seemed serious. “Is that right?”

  Lamin nodded. “You’ll see. After tonight, you’ll be begging to occupy my free time.”

  Sunny looked doubtful. “We’ll see.”

  * * *

  To her surprise, Sunny did have a wonderful time in Lamin’s company. They walked the red carpet separately, careful not to invite unwanted speculation about their nonexistent relationship. Lamin stood off to the side while she posed and smiled for the paparazzi before heading into the theater. The film itself wasn’t boring at all. They found themselves laughing at times, angry at others, and they both left the film with a new outlook on the effects of America’s obsession with fifteen fleeting moments of fame. As they exited the theater, Lamin took Sunny’s hand in his and she didn’t even protest.

  Once in the lobby, she excused herself to use the ladies’ room before they left. She entered the expansive room and instantly froze. The sound hit her before the sight did: the familiar cadence of someone inhaling long and full. When she stepped all the way into the ladies’ room, she saw two thin women hurriedly putting away what she knew from experience was cocaine. One of them—a tall blonde with piercing green eyes—wiped her nose, guiltily, while her brunette friend smiled at Sunny like the cat who ate the canary.

  “Excuse us,” the brunette said, apologetically.

  Sunny rushed into a stall, without responding. With her back against the door, and her chest heaving from anxiety, she squeezed her eyes shut and tried with all her might to quiet the longing within her. She wanted to take a hit so badly! She pursed her lips together in order to prevent herself from asking the ladies for a hit. She would happily give them every dollar in her account for just one good, long snort. She was only half-relieved when she heard them leave. She wanted to chase after them, to party again the way she had once upon a time. But instead, she squatted over the toilet seat and took what felt like the longest piss of her life.