Small Sensations

by Crystal V. Rhodes

  “Well, I’m not going to put up with this. He could traipse all over New York with any tramp he wanted to. Who knew and who cared? But he’s back in Atlanta, and I won’t have him sully our family name by taking up with some gutter trash from the ghetto.”

  Vanessa twisted her pasta in circles. It was useless talking to her mother when she was like this, but she tried anyway. “From what I hear, she doesn’t live in the ghetto. As a matter of fact, she’s the vice president of Small Sensations. Bianca wears that label.”

  Katherine sniffed. “Those abominable clothes with all of the loud colors. You and your brother ought to be ashamed of yourselves for buying that baby those clothes. I am not impressed. The woman came from the ghetto. That’s the point. What she does now doesn’t answer the question about who her people are or what she’s done in the past. My goodness, she was raised in the projects, with those gangbangers and such. And that little girl, Gabrielle, where is her father? There’s no record of a marriage license in Chicago or here in Atlanta.”

  Vanessa frowned in confusion. “How do you know so much about her, Mother? You haven’t met her yet.”

  Katherine sniffed. “Don’t worry about it. I know what I need to know, and I’m going to know much more shortly. If that woman thinks that she’s going to worm her way into this family, she is very much mistaken.”

  Vanessa tried again. “Mother, I think…”

  “Good afternoon, ladies. Sorry I’m late.”

  Katherine and Vanessa looked up into the smiling face of Charles Cash. Katherine returned his smile. Vanessa was more reserved. She wasn’t sure about her mother’s friend. He seemed nice enough. He certainly was attentive to Katherine, and he was very good with Bianca. Katherine didn’t have much to say about him except that he was an investment consultant whom she had met at a charity event. Vanessa had never had an entire conversation with the man, so she chose to withhold her opinion about him until she got to know him better. She watched as Charles settled in the chair next to Katherine.

  As he and Katherine engaged in chitchat, Vanessa thought about the information her mother had revealed about Davia Maxwell. It was a little disturbing that she knew so many details about the woman. As a matter of fact, she knew too many details and Vanessa was certain that Justin hadn’t told her. The only conclusion to be reached was that she had had Davia investigated, something that Katherine would not hesitate to do. Vanessa knew her mother well, much better than Justin did. Her big brother still held the mistaken belief that there were some areas in which their mother had boundaries. She knew better. There were very few boundaries that their mother wouldn’t cross, and who was in a better position to know than her own daughter?

  Katherine Miles had orchestrated almost everything in her life, including her marriage to Bianca’s father. Vanessa had never loved her late husband, but that hadn’t mattered to Katherine. It was a good social match. That was all that counted. And, like the dutiful daughter that she had always been, she had simply gone along and married the wrong man just to garner her mother’s approval. It had been a dreadful mistake and an unhappy marriage.

  She wished that she was more like her brother. She envied him. He didn’t care about social boundaries and he cared even less about his mother’s antiquated ideas. Of course he had one advantage that Vanessa didn’t have. He didn’t have to earn their mother’s love. He already had it.

  Vanessa sighed and took a sip of water as the conversation between Katherine and Charles continued, excluding her. If only she had Justin’s nerve. If only she had the courage to challenge Katherine, just once.

  * * *

  When Davia told Justin about being summoned to Chicago by Willa Mae Johnson, he couldn’t wait to meet the person who meant so much to the woman he loved. In their many talks over the past few months Davia had brought Willa Mae Johnson to life for him with stories of how this woman had touched her. She greatly respected this formidable woman. So, no request from her beloved foster mother was too big or too small as far as Justin was concerned. He went to the Windy City as ordered and was in for a pleasant surprise when they arrived.

  The Johnson home was a two-story brick colonial, located in an integrated suburb of Chicago. Davia had told him that their children had purchased the home for their parents as an anniversary gift. What she hadn’t told him was that instead of walking into a household that he had envisioned as warm and loving, but barely literate, he would be walking into a home that was not only overflowing with love, but with a passion for learning.

  Willa Mae and Joshua had married as young teenagers and had become parents early. Both of them held an appreciation for learning that had never faltered. Willa Mae had finished high school after her first three children had been born. Books were treasured and learning was coveted in their home. All six of their biological children were well educated and had excelled in their chosen professions. Justin met two of them during the weekend.

  Rev. Darius Johnson was the esteemed pastor of God’s Grace Baptist Church located in Chicago. Years ago, Justin had read about Darius in Ebony magazine in an article titled “Is This the Next Martin Luther King?” A renowned speaker, Darius held a master’s degree in theology and a PhD in economics. Under his leadership, his church had become one of the largest and wealthiest African-American churches in the United States. In his early forties, he had earned the admiration and respect of millions and his influence extended nationwide.

  Justin also met the second oldest of the Johnson children. Her name was Judge Donna Hawkins, and at the age of thirty-eight, she was one of the youngest judges in the country to serve on the state supreme court. The other four Johnson children did not live in Chicago. They were scattered all over the country and held positions that were equally as prestigious as those of their older siblings. Joshua and Willa Mae Johnson had done their job as parents well.

  When Justin met Joshua Johnson, he looked much as he had pictured him, average in stature, with a quiet, unassuming personality. Willa Mae was nothing like Justin had pictured her. Shamefully, he had envisioned her as large in size, sound and personality, based on nothing more than a distorted stereotype regarding her humble beginnings. His introduction to Mrs. Johnson proved him wrong.

  In her late fifties, Willa Mae’s cocoa-brown skin was smooth and line free. Her five-foot, six-inch frame was shapely, despite having given birth to six children. She had hazel eyes set in an oval-shaped face framed by dark brown hair sprinkled with gray. She wore it in a cropped cut close to her head, much like Davia wore her hair, and the effect was striking. She was as attractive as Justin’s own mother, yet she was as different from Katherine as night was from day.

  There was no pretense to Willa Mae Johnson, and she didn’t mince words. She spoke her mind with little prompting. She made no pretense and put on no airs, yet there did seem to be one thing that she and Katherine appeared to share—when family was threatened, she took no prisoners. From the moment Justin stepped over the threshold into the Johnson household, there was no doubt that he was there to prove that he was worthy of Davia.

  A few hours before he and Davia were to depart for the flight back to Atlanta, Willa Mae had cornered him alone in her kitchen. She got straight to the point.

  “Are you in love with Davia?”

  Justin almost laughed because the question was so easy to answer. He looked the beloved matriarch in her eyes and answered truthfully, “I love her mind, body and soul.”

  Willa Mae’s gaze never wavered as she finished her morning coffee and studied him. A hint of a smile teased her mouth as she placed the empty cup on the table and then said, “I’m going to tell you up front, Justin Miles, I like you. You seem to be honest. You say what you have to say, and like my Joshua, you don’t waste words. I like that. I’ve been watching the way you look at Davia and the way you touch her.” She paused, her eyes boring holes into him like lasers. “Either you are in love, or you’re a very good actor.” She rose from the kitchen table. “But, baby, let me tell y
ou, when it comes to actors, I’ve seen the best. All I want you to remember is that when you mess with my children, you mess with me. And you don’t want to do that.”

  With that she left the kitchen. The talk was over. Justin had gotten the stamp of approval.

  CHAPTER 14

  Davia snuggled up in the cushioned comfort of the soft leather sofa in Justin’s family room. After landing in Atlanta, the two of them had stopped at his house for some time alone together before she went home. Shutting her eyes, she reviewed the weekend that they had spent in Chicago. Justin had been a hit with the family.

  Papa Josh and he had gotten along right away and Mama Willa, much more suspicious of everyone, had been impressed. Darius had told her in private that he thought that Justin was a “fine man,” while Donna called him a “hunk.” Yes, things had gone well.

  Giving a contented sigh, Davia opened her eyes and looked straight into Justin’s eyes. He had taken a seat beside her. Smiling down at her, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her to him.

  “What are you thinking about?”

  Davia snuggled up to him. “Oh, I was thinking about our weekend and how much everyone liked you. The Johnson family saved my life, and their opinion means a lot to me.”

  “I know. Darius told me how his younger sister, Tina, brought you to their home.”

  “If she hadn’t, I don’t know where I would have ended up. I know it’s hard for you to understand just how hard my childhood really was. So I don’t expect someone like you…”

  “Someone like me?” Justin pulled back. He wasn’t happy with her description.

  Davia didn’t retreat. “Justin, I know you try to understand, and I appreciate it, but you come from a world of economic security. It’s so beyond where I came from that there’s no way you can understand what my life was like. Most children have families who are there for them. As a child, I couldn’t even conceive of such a possibility until the Johnson family came along.”

  Justin nodded. “I see.” He hated to admit it, but she was right.

  “I was a runaway, Justin.” She hesitated, reluctant to relive the pain of the past.

  “You ran away from your cousin?”

  “No, it was something else.” Someone else. Davia took a shaky breath. Like a serpent, thoughts of Money slithered to the forefront of her consciousness. She pushed them back. “I don’t want to go into it, but I did live on the streets for a while. I slept and ate where I could. I was a child carrying a child and I didn’t even know it. I was completely alone. That is, until one day, when an eleven-year-old girl came up to me while I was sitting in the park.”

  “Tina Johnson,” Justin stated, referring to the youngest of the Johnson clan.

  “Yes, and she took me home to Mama Willa.” Davia recalled. “I used to hang out in this little neighborhood park nearly every day. Don’t ask me why, but for some reason I felt safe there. Lord knows it was filled with as much danger as the rest of the places I called home, but it had trees and flowers—Anyway, I would see this little girl in a plaid hooded jacket cutting through the park nearly every time I was there. She would walk back and forth to the store, carrying bags filled with this and that. She would smile at me, and I’d smile back, even though at the time there wasn’t much to smile about. Then, one day, Tina stopped and sat down on the bench next to me without being invited. I just looked at her, shocked by her boldness. You know, this little kid approaching me, a big, bad teenager of fourteen. She didn’t say anything to me. She didn’t look at me either, but she opened this grocery bag, and took a loaf of bread out, then opened this package of thick-sliced bologna. She made two sandwiches and handed one to me.” Davia paused to savor the memory.

  “We sat there eating those sandwiches. Then, when we were finished, she said, ‘Come with me.’ Just like that, and I did. I was so tired of being alone.” Davia swallowed the lump in her throat and glanced at Justin.

  “I bet Mama Willa and her husband welcomed you with open arms.” Justin’s voice was husky with emotion.

  Davia tossed him a grin. “They lived on the tenth floor of this high-rise apartment in the most notorious housing project in Chicago. When Tina opened the door to that place, noise seemed to be everywhere. The TV was playing in one room, the radio in another room, and the record player was on. Mama was in the kitchen singing church songs at the top of her lungs, and the smell of her fried chicken nearly buckled my knees.”

  Justin’s mouth started to water involuntarily. “Yes! That woman can cook!”

  Davia nodded in agreement. “Papa Josh was in a lounge chair with a kid on each knee. When I walked in everybody looked up, said hello, then returned to what they were doing, like my being there was the most natural thing in the world. Mama asked me my name and told me I was staying for dinner. I lived with them until the day I moved to Atlanta.”

  They were silent for a moment. Then Justin asked, “Did they adopt you?”

  Davia shook her head. “No, I wouldn’t let them.”

  Justin waited for an explanation, but when none came, he didn’t push. Instead, he placed a tender kiss on her lips.

  “Thank you for introducing me to your family. I loved meeting them.”

  “Like I said, I know it might seem childish, but their approval was very important to me.”

  “And what’s important to you is important to me.” Justin caressed her cheek. “You see, I may not understand everything about your life, but I do understand you. And now that I’ve met your family, it’s time for you to fasten your seat belt and batten down the hatches. I want you to meet my mother.”

  * * *

  The hotel ballroom was a glittering paradise of silver and gold, accented by a dazzling array of tiny gold lights as Justin and Davia entered the annual Charity Ball. The decorations were exquisite and Davia voiced her delight, but Justin hardly noticed them. He hadn’t recovered from the daze he had been in since Davia met him at her front door. The dress she was wearing was killing him.

  The floor-length gown was white crepe, and it clung to her form as if it had been made for her. The sleeveless gown’s scooped neckline made it appear almost demur until she turned. The back plunged to the small of her back. A split bared one shapely leg whenever she walked. Diamond teardrop earrings and a delicate matching necklace glittered against her flawless skin. She was gorgeous.

  All Justin could think about since seeing Davia in that dress were ways to peel it from her body so that he could make passionate love to her. He hadn’t wanted to attend this affair anyway, preferring to spend the time alone with Davia. Unfortunately, his mother was the chairperson of the ball committee, and he knew that for Katherine his attendance tonight was mandatory. Besides, it offered the perfect opportunity for two of the most important women in his life to meet.

  Earlier that week Davia and Vanessa had arrived at the preschool at the same time to pick up their girls. The chance meeting had given them the opportunity to chat. Later that evening his sister had called him on his cell phone, eager to express her approval of the woman who had stolen his heart. He was pleased that she liked Davia, and appreciative when his sister had issued him a warning. Their mother was aware of his dating Davia. She suspected that Katherine was up to something and wanted him to be aware. He thanked her for the forewarning, and this evening he was ready to face whatever Katherine Miles might pull.

  Surveying the ballroom for his mother, he was glad that this social gathering was the setting for their meeting. Katherine could be a handful at times, but in public she was always the consummate lady. She would never embarrass herself in front of Atlanta’s elite. It was his hope that after meeting Davia, she might try to get to know her and—miracles of miracles—perhaps even like her, but he was a realist. Katherine was a snob. Davia’s present social and economic status didn’t matter. It was her background on which his mother’s opinions would be based.

  Justin tolerated his mother’s idiosyncrasy but adamantly disagreed with her. He was a man
in love, and he would not put up with any effort on her part to interfere in his relationship with Davia.

  His eyes shifted to the woman in question. How could he not love her? His hands trembled as he removed the evening wrap from her shoulders. She had become everything to him. His lips brushed the nape of her neck as he whispered, “Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?”

  Davia flashed him a heart-stopping smile over her shoulder. “You’ve told me about a dozen times, but of course I love hearing it.”

  Turning to the coat check-in counter, Justin swallowed hard. He had to regroup.

  It had been two weeks since their weekend in Chicago and their busy lives had kept them apart. Telephone conversations could never replace seeing or being with Davia, and his libido was stretched to the limit.

  Glancing at his watch, he decided that it would be a short evening. He had attended too many of these society events as it was. When he weighed being here against being alone with Davia, there was no contest. They would be leaving early.

  Checking her wrap, he returned to Davia. With his hand on the small of her back, he guided her into the main ballroom where his mother would be waiting.

  From across the room, Katherine spotted Justin’s entrance. Her eyes shone with pride. He was so tall and so handsome. The pristine white dinner jacket he was wearing fit his broad shoulders to perfection. He looked so much like his father that her heart constricted as he moved across the room. He walked with the same fluid movements as Zack. He possessed the same self-assurance that she knew so well. Katherine had been madly in love with Zachary Miles when he was alive, and she loved him no less in death. Their son was the personification of the love she and her husband had shared. Whenever she saw Justin, she saw Zachary. With a note of satisfaction she noticed the wistful looks on the faces of some of the women in the room as he passed their tables. This was Zachary’s son, all right. This was her heart.