Hot Girlz: Hot Boyz Sequel

by Monteilh, Marissa

  “Okay. I’ll talk to you later. You did a great job today. Proud of you.”

  “Bye.”

  Mercedes started to walk out. “You coming back to the house later?”

  Star replied, “No. I’m staying with Dad tonight.”

  “Good. Glad he won’t be alone. You either. I’ll talk to you all later. Bye Venus.”

  “Bye. Call you later.”

  Mercedes exited the kitchen.

  Star turned to face Venus. “I like your new house, Auntie.”

  “Thanks. We’re still getting settled in. Honey, I want you to keep your head up. Grammy loved you. You’ve got an angel now.”

  “I know. I loved her. Funny thing is she was like my friend even though she was almost four times my age. I could tell her anything. She was my second mother, and then she started being like a little girl. The older I got it was like the younger she got. She needed me to keep her calm and make her feel like she still had all the answers, even if she couldn’t remember our names.” Star shook her head. Venus came to her and hugged her tight. “I hate Alzheimer’s. I’m gonna miss her, Auntie.” Star broke down, shaking, trembling, and finally crying. Sobbing in her aunt’s arms.

  “Let it out. You need to. You have to.”

  “It’s so hard.”

  “I know. I understand.”

  “I’m sorry,” Star said, letting go of Venus and wiping her eyes. It was like she was forcing herself not to totally lose it. She sniffled and tried to regroup. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to the bathroom for some tissue.” She stepped away.

  “Love you.”

  “Love you, too,” Star said as she headed out at the same time Claude walked back in. Star looked down while covering her eyes.

  Claude said to Venus as he stood next to her, “Well. Speaking of love, I love you.”

  “I love you.”

  He put his arm around her waist.

  She said, “Sorry about Mom. Sorry about everything. About the other day at your office. Everything.”

  “Me, too,” he said as they kissed.

  Troubles seemed to have melted.

  At least for the time being.

  19

  Sequoia

  “. . . ever hit or verbally abused your son . . .”

  So, Mr. Wilson, I see you’ve changed your reply to the child support claim and you’re no longer contesting paternity. Is that correct?”

  It was the custody hearing date, September 28th.

  Torino, the respondent, was present and accounted for. “Yes, Your Honor,” he said, wearing a dark suit and tie.

  Sequoia watched, all eyes and ears, dressed in black.

  Kyle was absent.

  Colette, the petitioner, was front and center. And now she had a female attorney. Attorney Randolph.

  The judge said, “I’d ordered a DNA test to be taken and it appears only Ms. Berry has done that for Kyle Brewer, Jr. Is that right?”

  Attorney Phillips replied for his client, saying, “Yes, Sir. Mr. Wilson is admitting he is the father.”

  The judge looked at Colette. “Well, Ms. Berry, it looks like we’ll move right on into the custody and child support portion of this case since Mr. Wilson is now admitting paternity, and therefore is jointly responsible for the health, well being and care of the son the two of you have together.”

  He spoke to Torino’s attorney, saying, “Now, I see you’ve submitted paperwork to support Mr. Wilson’s apparent claims that Ms. Berry is unfit, and that she’s been accused of violence against her former live-in boyfriend.” He flipped through the paperwork. “I see that the police were called about three times for claims of domestic violence. Each time Mr. Brewer was the one who called. Yet when police came out it was Ms. Berry who complained that he was the one who hit her and that she reacted in self defense.” He looked at Attorney Phillips.

  “Yes, Your Honor. And, we have documents here to verify that Mr. Brewer filed a restraining order only three weeks ago and has not seen or talked to Ms. Berry since. He is very concerned about the emotional welfare of the child.”

  “Does Mr. Brewer see the child? I would think not with a restraining order on the child’s mother.”

  Attorney Phillips said, “He moved out and left the child with Ms. Berry.”

  The judge asked, “Ms. Berry, have you ever been abusive to Mr. Kyle Brewer verbally or physically, striking him or harassing him?”

  “No. Sir.”

  “And have you ever hit or verbally abused your son, Kyle Brewer, Jr.?”

  “No. Sir.”

  “Now, Attorney Randolph, we have the police reports, but no charges were brought against your client or the other party. Because there were no charges, these have no bearing on whether or not Kyle Jr. is in danger. I’m going to take these into due consideration, however. I’m going to award Ms. Berry, and Mr. Wilson, joint custody.”

  Colette looked displeased.

  Torino looked surprised.

  “As far child support, Mr. Wilson, how long have you been aware that Kyle Brewer, Jr. is your biological son?”

  “Just since Ms. Berry came to my place of business right before all of this, warning me of this child support claim and informing me that she used my sperm to impregnate herself.”

  The judge looked perplexed. “Is this true, Ms. Berry?”

  “No. Sir,” she said plainly.

  “Did you go to his place of business?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Did you impregnate yourself?”

  “No. I never said that. Sir.”

  “When did you inform Mr. Wilson that he was the father?”

  “While I was pregnant.”

  The judge’s eyes moved to Torino. “And Mr. Wilson, you didn’t believe her?”

  “No. I knew it was impossible because I always used protection, but based on her claim when she came to my place of business as to what she did, I have concluded that he is my son.”

  “Based upon that, huh? Okay. Ms. Berry, the period of time that Mr. Wilson did not know he was the father cannot count as time considered in back-child support. I will issue an order of support,” he began writing, “for two-thousand dollars per month, starting the day Mr. Wilson filed the answer acknowledging that the paternity was uncontested. You are both ordered to work out a custody arrangement plan with the family court mediator immediately following this decision to work out holidays, frequency, etcetera.”

  Colette looked like she wanted to speak, but didn’t.

  Attorney Randolph spoke for her. “Your Honor, my client is seeking attorney’s fees and court costs, as well as five-thousand per month, which is a small fraction of Mr. Wilson’s seven-hundred-thousand dollar income. A great deal of the money Ms. Berry receives will be spent making a home for Kyle, Jr. Ms. Berry would like the opportunity to give their son a comfortable and equal lifestyle when he is not with his father.”

  The judge replied, “Attorney Randolph, the plaintiff and respondent were never married. That’s first of all. Second of all, I have not awarded Ms. Berry full custody, with Mr. Wilson having visitation rights. In that case she may have gotten more support, however, two-thousand is more than enough. Also, one person’s lifestyle does not entitle the other parent who makes less income to garner the difference through child support. There is no alimony, as I said they were never man and wife. And the amount awarded is sufficient to provide for a seven year-old. The medical insurance is to be provided by Mr. Wilson, so that won’t be an issue for Ms. Berry. If he goes to a private school, there’s enough for food, clothing and other necessities. This child can live quite nicely. Some parents don’t make that per month for an entire household. Ms. Berry is expected to make a living for herself, and her son actually. Is that clear?”

  “Yes. Sir,” Colette replied, looking let down.

  “Yes, Your Honor,” Attorney Randolph answered.

  “I will, however, grant fees and court costs to Ms. Berry.”

  Colette gave a slight sigh of r
elief.

  “Now, as far as the name change petition, Attorney Phillips, does your client have a problem with the request?”

  “Your Honor, I think Kyle Brewer gave Kyle Jr. his name long ago and has been standing in as the father. We see no reason to change it.”

  “Ms. Berry, why would it matter at this point? Mr. Wilson has admitted he is the father.”

  Colette looked certain. “Because my son is a Wilson. He has a half-brother who’s a Wilson, named after the father my son will never be named after. I don’t think Mr. Wilson would want two sons named, Torino Jr., but I have seen it done before. Mr. Brewer and I are not together and he won’t be in this child’s life. Mr. Wilson will. Sir.”

  The judge said, “Ms. Berry, your petition is granted. Kyle Jamal Brewer, Jr.’s name change is ordered, his name now being Kyle Jamal Wilson, dropping the junior, obviously. Ms. Berry, you’ll need to get a copy of this order and present it to the Social Security Administration and then when you get his new social security card, take care of his school and medical records.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Now unless there are any further questions, these matters are closed.”

  “None, Your Honor,” said Torino.

  “None. Sir,” said Colette.

  The judge looked between the two of them. “I hate to see this. For the sake of this child, get it together. Put him first. Next case, Thomas versus Jarvis.”

  ~~

  Minutes later, Torino asked his attorney while standing in the hallway, “So, that’s it?”

  Sequoia stood at his side holding his hand.

  “Yes.”

  Colette and her attorney had already walked down the hall. She and Sequoia barely gave each other a glance.

  “Now what?” asked Torino.

  “We go into the conference room with the petitioner and the mediator to arrange custody parameters.”

  “And then?”

  “And then, depending upon which date it’s agreed to, Kyle Wilson comes home to spend time with his father. It could be pretty quick.”

  “Okay.” Torino nodded. He released his hand from Sequoia’s and adjusted his tie.

  “Excuse me for one moment,” Torino’s attorney said, and then he walked away.

  “Sure.”

  Sequoia said, “Wow. Guess you can’t refer to him as Jr., huh?”

  “Guess not.”

  “Even though he might really be.”

  “I’m calling him Kyle,” said Torino.

  “So, you’re satisfied?” she asked.

  “Not really. She didn’t lose custody altogether.”

  “No. I guess we’re sharing a child fifty-fifty with her,” she said as if Colette was the devil herself. “A child we still don’t even know is yours.”

  “We will, Sequoia. We will.” He held her hand again.

  His attorney stepped up. “Mr. and Mrs. Wilson, right this way, please.”

  20

  Mercedes

  “Hang up or I’m leaving.”

  The next Saturday evening, Mercedes lay on the white sofa in the living room under a chenille throw, half asleep. The television was muted. The only light in the room was illuminating from the screen.

  Since Mattie’s passing, Mercedes made it a habit to bring Nadia into the house at night just to keep her company. And when it was time for Mercedes to go to bed in her room, Nadia would head straight to Mattie’s room and sleep by the side of Mattie’s bed.

  Mercedes heard the sound of a key in the door and the door opening. Then she heard, “Hi.”

  “Hey,” Mercedes said, realizing it was her husband coming through the front door. She sat up slowly, struggling to focus, squinting as Mason closed the door and turned on the living room light. She stretched her arms in an effort to force out the kinks, glancing over at the huge wrought-iron clock on the wall.

  Nadia, who Mercedes thought was by the sofa, came running downstairs wagging her tail and circling Mason. She seemed more excited to see him than she had ever been when Mason lived at home.

  He bent down to pet Nadia, giving off a few chuckles. “Hey there. Look at you. Calm down, girl.”

  Nadia savored the attention and followed Mason’s steps as he walked toward the recliner, placing his keys and some mail on the cushion.

  Nadia sat next to where he stood.

  Mercedes wiped the corners of her eyes. “Are you coming home, or just coming by?” She rubbed the soles of her bare feet together.

  “Coming by for a minute just to check the mail and get more of my things. I called but you didn’t answer.”

  “Okay.” Mercedes elongated the one word as though his reply was not what she wanted to hear. She picked up the remote and turned off the television.

  “You’ve been sleeping all day?”

  “I have.” Her hair was mussed up and the mascara on her eyes was smudged. She was in need of a waxing, a pedicure, a fill, and a toothbrush.

  “Where’s Lucinda?”

  Mercedes folded the throw neatly and placed it on her lap. “I let her go. I told her we didn’t need her. She was a nurse.”

  “Thought maybe she could stay on as housekeeper.”

  “I’m good. Not much going on here that needs to be kept, really. Other than me.”

  “I’m sure Lucinda’s taking this hard, too.”

  “She is.”

  He said, “She was Mattie’s caregiver as well as nurse.” He headed upstairs.

  Mercedes looked up toward the landing and noticed Mason heading toward Mattie’s room, not theirs, with Nadia right behind him. She then heard her husband walk to the other side of the house into their bedroom.

  Within ten minutes, Mercedes had turned the television back on and leaned upon the sofa cushions simply scrolling through the channels, still with the sound off.

  Mason came back down with a Nike shoulder bag.

  Nadia stayed upstairs.

  Mercedes looked over at Mason. “Did you go in her room?”

  “I did.”

  “It’s like time stood still in there.”

  “I see that. Here. Your phone was by the bed.” Mason extended his hand and offered Mercedes her cell.

  She took it, placing it on the coffee table. “Thanks.”

  “I noticed an RG in your contact list. Is that . . .”

  She jumped on his words. “Oh, you noticed, huh?”

  “Is it?”

  “Yes.” She looked on edge.

  So did he. “You exchanged numbers?”

  “No. He put his in. I forgot about it.”

  “Forgot?”

  “Yes, I forgot.” Mercedes took a breath and transferred the topic. “You talk to Star?”

  He looked like he would only allow her evasion for about ten quick seconds. “Yes. You?”

  “For a minute. I wanted her to know she didn’t do anything wrong by telling you.”

  “I think she believes you’re the one who’s mad.”

  “Why?”

  “For telling me.”

  “She didn’t say that to me. Honestly, instead of her thinking I’m mad, I’m the one who thinks she’s still mad. She’s distant.”

  “Really?” He just stared at Mercedes.

  She saw the look on his face and nervously smoothed her hair, and wiped under her eyes. She kept the topic where it was. “Years ago, she was the one who resented you for being famous and being gone. She even took your old Porsche for a joy ride and crashed it into a tree to get your attention. She’s always been almost angry because of your fame. But you learned how to show her you care, even when you didn’t have time to spend with her. You bought her cards and made her feel special, and you’ve taken the time to visit her in D.C. and Atlanta. You really have shown her that she matters. It’s like somewhere along the way things went from being mommy’s little girl, to being daddy’s little girl. I never noticed it until that phone call that day. But, I can honestly say I probably would’ve done the same thing in her position.”
/>   “She’s a rebel.”

  “Don’t mess with her Grammy, and her daddy.” Mercedes managed a snicker.

  “I guess so.” He again stared. “So, you changed the subject. Why do you have his number?”

  She began to frown. “Mason, you know what? I think I have it because, well no, I know I have it so I can call him right now and let him tell you what happened. Hold up. Here.” She snatched her phone from the table.

  Mason’s eyes flashed a stop sign. “No. Don’t dial his number. Hang up.”

  She pressed RG. “Oh, yes I am because you’re standing before me with a duffle bag full of your clothes to take out of here and start a life without me and that’s more than I can take.” The phone rang. “You’re spending your days and nights away from me because you think I had sex with this man, and I did not. I did not. I did not. Actually, I wish I never met him.” The phone continued to ring. “Now, maybe if he tells you that himself you’ll believe him, because you surely don’t believe me.”

  “Calm down.”

  “I can’t be calm. This is my life.”

  He demanded, “Hang up or I’m leaving.”

  There was an answer. “Hello?”

  “Ryan. This is Mercedes from Vegas.” She kept her eyes on Mason, who kept his eyes on her. “The owner of Simpson Models. Well, I need you to do me a favor.”

  Mason looked like he could stab her as he took his keys and mail from the seat of the recliner and simply left, slamming the front door closed.

  A few seconds went by.

  She continued anyway. “Listen, I need you to know I made a big mistake. I’m a married woman. And I think you know by now that I’m Mason Wilson’s wife. Those few moments we had together have ruined my marriage.”

  “I don’t want any mess. I can’t have any.”

  “Then maybe you shouldn’t have come on to a married woman. And no, I shouldn’t have responded, either. I wish I could go back and never have given you any attention. My whole life is different now. So much has happened. Why did you call me and leave that message at my hotel? And why did I call you back?”