Somebody's Gotta Be on Top

by Mary B. Morrison

  “Don’t worry man. She just blowing off steam,” Kevin said. “I can handle her. She’ll sign the agreement.”

  Angel excused herself from the room. Darius’s eyes trailed her long legs until they were out of view. When he noticed Ashlee staring, he smiled. Angel returned a moment and said, “Mr. Jones, Ms. Monroe is on the phone.”

  “Don’t continue without me. Take a break.” Darius raced to his office and shut the door. “Ciara, where are you?”

  “This isn’t Ciara, it’s Monica. I told you Ciara doesn’t want anything to do with you. I’ll be by tomorrow to pick up a copy of the minutes from this morning’s meeting along with a copy of the budget. Until further notified, I’m taking over all of Ciara’s business.”

  “You can’t do that!”

  “I can. And I will. I’ll deliver a court-certified copy of my power of attorney tomorrow. And you need to notify me of every meeting and keep me abreast of all contracts. Good day, Mr. Jones.” Monica hung up the phone.

  Darius gnawed his bottom lip. What in the fuck was Ciara trying to prove? Darius dialed his attorney’s office.

  “Hello, Mr. Jones.”

  Darius didn’t respond with a greeting. “I need to file for divorce. I’ll be at your office this afternoon. Bye.”

  Darius sat swirling his pen in circular motions. He needed a private investigator to locate Ciara. Theo could get the job done. But once before Theo had refused his request to trail Maxine. Maxine. Two kids. And a husband. Refusing to accept no for an answer, Darius dialed Theo’s number.

  “Speak to me. What’s up, Darius?”

  “I need you to find Ciara. She’s missing. We’re concerned.”

  Theo dragged Darius’s name off his tongue, “Da-ri-us. You know I only work for your mother. That would be a conflict. Can’t do it.”

  “But my mother has no affiliation with this matter. Can’t you help me out this once?”

  “Nope. Gotta go. Peace.” Theo hung up the phone.

  Darius could easily find another PI but finding one he could trust was the problem.

  CHAPTER 35

  After meditating and praying for several days, Jada’s vision to help her child was clear. Her stomach churned in knots. Undeniably, Darius’s pain hurt her too. Darius stopped returning her phone calls. Didn’t visit on weekends to see or pick up his little brother. No recent voicemails saying, “Ma, I’m okay. Tell Dad I said hello.” Hopefully Darius received her message to meet for lunch at eleven.

  Jada stood in the doorway. She tilted her neck. Yes, her legs were there but her limbs were numb. The restaurant was quiet as she’d hoped but in about an hour or less that would change. Jada had come too far to leave. Her comfort level wasn’t important.

  “Soon this will be over,” she mumbled, then approached the host.

  “Tanner reservation.”

  “Welcome, Ms. Tanner, would you like to be seated or do you prefer to wait for your party?”

  Somberly, Jada replied, “I’d like to be seated.”

  “Certainly. Are you still expecting two guests?” he asked, reaching for the menus.

  “Yes.”

  Jada followed the waiter along the rail, up three stairs, to a square table set for four in the corner. Good. No windows. No unnecessary distractions. No other diners nearby. He swiftly removed one place setting from the white linen cloth.

  Jada glanced at the menu. No appetite. Maybe she’d order soup or a leafy green mixed salad.

  Jada overheard the waiter say, “Yes sir, she’s here.”

  Unable to see the front entrance, the next voice she heard was Darius’s. “Man, I’m not wearing that shirt.”

  “Sir, this is formal dining. No button-down shirt with a collar, no service. Please, wear the shirt.”

  Darius approached the table wearing a blue cotton collared shirt over his NBA jersey.

  Jada smiled. “Hi, honey. How’s everything?”

  Jada tried creating a gleam of excitement in her eyes but so many disappointing events had occurred between them, Jada doubted if a twinkle surfaced.

  Darius flopped in his seat and said, “What do you care? You barely speak to me. You get upset when I don’t call. Then you invite me to lunch. What for?”

  “I’ve told you, honey, when people stop responding they feel there’s nothing else they can do. You pushed me away. It seems you intentionally hurt me.” Jada wanted Darius to object. He didn’t. “I love you but I can’t resolve your problems. You’re too stubborn. How’s work?”

  “Fine, Ma. Now that I’ve dug in that ass, Kevin is working out well. Ashlee too. Fine. Everything is fine.”

  Didn’t take long for the attitude to arrive. Jada ignored Darius’s comments. Had Darius dug in Ashlee’s ass? What did Darius mean?

  “Honey, I don’t trust Kevin. He has bad vibes.”

  “You don’t even know my brother. He works for me.”

  Jada glanced toward the entrance. “Well, I might as well tell you before he gets here. I invited Darryl to eat with us.”

  “Why? I don’t need him.”

  “Yes, honey. You do. You need to develop a stronger relationship with him or hear him say to your face that he doesn’t want anything to do with you.”

  Darius removed the starched shirt. “There you go again. Trying to decide what’s best for me. Every time you do this you make my life worse. Miserable.” Darius tossed the blue cotton across the back of his chair and stood. “I have better things to do with my life.”

  “What if I told you he honestly acknowledged he’d been an asshole and he was thankful I’d called? Baby, I know you want to bond with your father. And he wants the same. If you walk away now, he may never try again.”

  Darius stopped, returned to his mother, and stood in silence.

  Darius’s eyes shifted left to right. He ran his hand over his locks. Finally he put on the shirt and sat. “Ma, you just don’t understand the void you’ve created in my life. I mean, I could’ve been an NBA all-star. I never wanted to run a company. Basketball was my dream. My life. And you held on to your lie for so long. So long that, thanks to your selfishness, my dream is now out of reach.”

  “Baby, you don’t know how sorry I truly am for hurting you. But you should never give up on a dream. Never.”

  “She’s right,” Darryl said, walking up to the table. He pulled out a chair, turned it backward, straddled his seat, and sat directly across from Darius and next to Jada. Darryl’s chin rested on his long hands which covered the top of his chair. “Did I ever tell you how I got into the league?”

  Darius stared at Darryl. No nod. No words.

  The waiter approached the table. “Would you like for me to come back?”

  Darryl answered, “Please.”

  “I’ll be in this area. Just let me know when you’re ready.”

  Darryl wasn’t going to get away without telling the story Jada never heard. Jada said, “No, you didn’t tell us how you got into the league.”

  “Well, because I was six-nine in high school, everyone wanted me to play ball. I mean, I loved the sport, don’t get me wrong. But it wasn’t my dream. I wanted to own my own business. Like your mother. Work for myself. Like you. But everyone, my mother, father, aunts, uncles, cousins, you name it, they all wanted me to go to college on a scholarship and save them money. Play ball. And go pro and then give them money.”

  “So what’d you do?” Darius asked.

  “I played at TSU for two semesters then I tried to quit. Just like you quit after your freshman year. But they went ballistic. Even my mother. I couldn’t believe how angry everyone was with my decision. So I stayed.”

  Jada thought, then maybe Darius and Darryl understand how I feel about the screenplay.

  Darius looked at Darryl and said, “I quit because you benched me.”

  “Let’s get that straight. You benched yourself. I wanted to see how serious you were. You were preoccupied with women so I figured you were forced into basketball too. So I decided I wa
sn’t going to push you someplace you didn’t want to be. If you really wanted your starting spot, you would’ve worked harder. Not quit. Winners never quit.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me you were my dad when you autographed my shirt at my AAU game when I was a teenager?”

  Jada looked up at Darryl, waiting for a response.

  “Darius, I was so proud of you. But I was jealous of your mother. She never needed me. She rolled up at that game in her new Benz. Her new man sat to her left. Her old man on the right. Always so independent. Miss I Can Handle Everything on My Own. She didn’t need me like those other women. I mean, look at her. Still beautiful. Successful. Getting ready to expand her company. Then when she said Wellington was the father, I knew she didn’t need or want me.”

  Jada had to speak in her defense, “Wait one minute. You were the one who told me ‘I’d better tell Mr. Wellington, loverboy Jones my baby was his.’ ”

  “Jada, I know. And I apologize.”

  What? Darryl apologized. That was a first!

  “Plus, my boy Terrell planted the seed that Darius might not be mine. What can I say? I was young. And dumb. I did what was convenient for me.”

  “Darryl, you weren’t young. You were thirty-five years old when I told you I was pregnant.”

  “I know. But you black women just don’t get it. Without a real woman—a woman who believes in her man, supports her man even when he’s wrong . . . and one who’s not always attacking her man or trying to be the man. From our mother’s arms into a woman’s arms, some of us are still looking for a superwoman to replace our supermom. Man, my mama cooked, cleaned, worked, and took care of us. Helped pay the bills and never complained.”

  Jada commented, “Well, my daddy worked. Mowed the lawn. Washed the cars. Spoiled my mom. Spoiled me.” Jada’s neck swerved side to side. “And my mother never had to go out at night to find him or stay up all night because he didn’t come home. My mother worked because she wanted to. Not because she had to.”

  Darryl laughed at Darius’s expression. Darius’s head was buried in his hand.

  “Jada, calm down. This isn’t about you. You’ve had your turn over and over again. This is about our son. My son. Everybody knows you’re spoiled. Jada, because of what we’ve done, Darius doesn’t know who or how to trust. Your role is more important than mine because until he learns to trust you, he’ll never trust anyone. Including me. Where was I? Oh, yeah. My point was, I guess some men don’t know how to grow up. Others just don’t want to. I guess that’s why I’m here. It’s time for me to grow up. Stop running. Stop blaming everyone else. Darius, look at me, Son.”

  Darius looked at Darryl.

  “I do want to get to know you. I know it’s late but it’s not too late. And if you’re serious about realizing your dream, I can train you one-on-one. We can get you back into college, on one of the top teams. I have enough contacts to get you looked at by the pros, but it’s going to be up to you to put in the work.”

  Darius shoulders rose below his ears, almost touching. “I don’t know what to say, man.”

  “You don’t have to say anything. Just think about what I said, and if you decide to go back to college, know that I’m ready to help you.” Darryl stood and opened his arms to Darius.

  Darius stood but didn’t open his arms.

  Darryl hugged Darius tight. “I know, Son.” He grabbed the back of Darius’s head and pulled Darius in closer, then Darryl kissed Darius’s forehead and said, “I love you too. I’ll be in touch. Soon.” Darryl placed money to pay the bill on the table, then left.

  Jada sat at the table with Darius. She wanted to question him about Ashlee but couldn’t. Not wanting to interrupt Darius’s thoughts, Jada motioned for the waiter to wait a few more minutes before taking their orders.

  CHAPTER 36

  Darius reflected on his conversation with Darryl. Darryl kept his promise and phoned sooner than Darius expected. The next day, in fact. Their relationship was awkward yet evolving and, although Darius wouldn’t admit it, gratifying.

  If he could turn back the hands of time, Darius fantasized seeing himself... at five years old, proudly riding on Darryl’s shoulders seven feet in the air. At ten, happy having Darryl coach his fifth-grade, Catholic Youth Organization team. At sixteen, instead of getting an autograph from Darryl Williams, Darius would’ve had Darryl talk to all the college basketball coaches that were blowing up his cellular and home phones. At twenty-one, Darryl would’ve had courtside seats to his NBA games. Maybe in a few years, Darryl would still have those tickets. What a difference having his real dad would’ve made in his childhood development. And all the things Darius dreamt of would’ve only cost Darryl time. Time. Time.

  Angel stood in his doorway wearing a black velvet hoodie dress with knee-high boots. “Mr. Jones, Darryl Sr., is on the phone. He says it’s important.”

  Darius’s eyes roamed Angel’s protruding breasts squeezed between a low V-cut neckline. “Thanks.” Watching her butt sway, he shook his head then answered the phone, “Hey, what’s up?” Darius wasn’t sure if he’d ever become comfortable calling Darryl Dad.

  “Hey, Son. I want to invite you to the Cal, Stanford game in November. You think you can be in Oakland?”

  Darius’s bright eyes matched his smile. “Whoa, of course. But that’s eight weeks away.”

  “I know. But I need to start lining up your schedule to meet the head coaches. Once we get you on a team next year, it’ll be easier for me to get you into the NBA draft the following year. You know, give the pros a chance to see they need you. The University of San Diego and UCLA are good NBA feeder colleges.”

  “Okay, I’ll be there whenever I need to. Just let me know. Maybe I can help you start your business.”

  “You’ve done enough helping Kevin. Thanks to you, Kevin has really grown a lot. He’s more confident. He’s happy. He’s successful. And I believe, for the first time, he’s even falling in love. Son, remember this. Very seldom will you help the person who helps you. But you must selflessly help somebody. Whatever you put into the universe, you shall receive.”

  Darius instantly thought about Ashlee, Kimberly, Desire, and Ciara, realizing the way he’d treated each of them was wrong. In time, with time, Darius would do what he’d never done before: apologize.

  Why couldn’t Wellington, with all his love and concern, do in twenty-one years, what Darryl had done in two weeks? Make Darius Jones recognize, like other men, that in addition to anger and outrage, he too had feelings. Emotions. Compassion. All Darius ever wanted to do was star in the NBA. And now that his dream was back on track, fear intertwined with his excitement. What if his best game wasn’t good enough?

  Darius vigorously shook his head. “Okay, by—”

  “Wait, is Kevin there?”

  This time Darius didn’t mind transferring Darryl. Knowing Kevin was on the phone, Darius visited Ashlee’s office and sat on the corner of her desk.

  “I need you to go out and celebrate with me.”

  Ashlee frowned. “Celebrate what? When?”

  “Tonight. After work. For you I’d better say after six because you don’t know how to leave this place.”

  “Darius, I can’t. Not tonight. I have plans tonight.”

  “Reschedule until tomorrow. I need to talk with you.”

  Ashlee whispered, “Darius, I can’t reschedule with him. Not again.”

  “Who is it? I’ll have Angel call and cancel for you.” Forget rescheduling with that fool.

  Ashlee said, “It’s—”

  Kevin interrupted, “Hey, no one invited me to the party.” Kevin entered and sat at Ashlee’s desk. “The old man is finally coming around, huh? That’s good. He told me about the Cal, Stanford coaches. Ashlee and I should take you out to celebrate your embarking career. Ashlee. You wanna change our plans to take out the boss? Before you know it, my dad is going to introduce Darius to all the head coaches, and we’ll have to run Somebody’s Gotta Be on Top.” Kevin smiled.


  Ashlee sighed, then looked away from Darius. “You guys go without me. I’ll stay here. Besides, I have some paperwork I need to review.”

  Darius waited for Kevin to leave but Kevin leaned back and clamped his hands behind his head, then placed his ankle atop his thigh.

  “Kevin, I need to see you in my office.”

  “Sure thing, boss. I’ll be there in just a sec. I have some exciting news to share with Ashlee, mein.”

  “Now,” Darius said then left.

  Kevin arrived in Darius’s office ten minutes later and sat at the conference table with two packages. “Mein, check this out. I got two,” Kevin held up two fingers, “new movie deals in the works. Parapictures was so impressed, Tony offered us contracts on his upcoming films.”

  “Let me see this.” Darius couldn’t believe what he’d read. “Our percentage yields a grand total of fifteen million dollars.”

  “Yeah, mein. Can you believe that shit?! I want a fat bonus with incentives,” Kevin said, rubbing his palms together.

  “We can talk about that later.”

  “Naw, mein. No need to talk. I already factored my compensation into the budget.”

  Darius picked up his package and sat behind his desk. “I’ll review the entire proposal and we can discuss this tonight. And, I told you not to talk to Ashlee.”

  “Mein, you crazy. Ashlee is fine. Single. Intelligent. And we work in the same field. Plus, she’s your family or otherwise I know you. You would’ve tapped that ass a long time ago.”

  “Yeah, but she’s family. My family. Is your family too.”

  Angel stood in the doorway. Both Darius and Kevin looked up. “Mr. Jones, Candice is in the lobby. I told her you were busy but she insisted on waiting.”

  Slowly shaking his head, Darius exhaled. “Send her in. Kevin, we’ll talk later, man.”

  As Kevin exited, Candice jerked the door and stamped into Darius’s office. Bracing herself with one hand on the desk, the other on her hip, Candice leaned forward and said, “If you don’t remove Black Diamonds from my contract today, I swear this film will never make it to the big screen.”