Whos Loving You

by Mary B. Morrison

  Entering my mother’s kitchen, I heard Mama say, “Ronnie, chew your food really good before swallowing.” Then she covered my son’s hand with hers. “Slow down, sweetheart. Your mother isn’t going to leave you again.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” my son answered politely and nodded, with his jaws stuffed. When I Joined them at the table, his brown eyes connected with mine, seeking reassurance that I’d take him with me this time. Ronnie didn’t care where I went. As long as he could go with me, he was happy. “Mommy, here. You eat this,” Ronnie offered, handing me half of his turkey sandwich.

  “No, baby. Eat your lunch. Mommy ate already,” I lied.

  “Velvet, you have to spend more time with Ronnie. I can’t raise him for you,” said Mama. “I’ve taken him to the King Center, the Coca-Cola factory, the Georgia Aquarium, and you’ve taken him where?”

  “Ma, don’t say it like that. I do spend time with my son.” Why was my mom having this conversation in front of my baby?

  I flipped open my Sidekick and smiled. Grant had texted: Are you available for dinner tonight?

  “When?” Mama asked. “You’re either working or hanging out. Ronnie didn’t ask to be here, you know. You’re going to start showing him some motherly love right now by spending quality time with him,” Mama said, cupping Ronnie’s face in her palms as though he was two years old. “I’m going shopping with my friends today.”

  I texted Grant back. Yes. When and where?

  “Not today, Ma. Can’t you shop tomorrow? I have to meet someone in a few hours. I promise I’ll make it quick. Just watch Ronnie until I get back.”

  Ronnie sat there, pivoting his head back and forth from my mom to me and eating his potato chips. He was saving his carrot and celery sticks for last to dunk in his ranch dressing.

  “Nope. I’m not asking you. Take him with you. That’s my final decision,” said Mama. “He needs you. Look at his plate. If I hadn’t slowed him down, his plate would be empty, and he just sat down right before you walked in. You don’t realize why he eats so fast?” As soon as I opened my mouth to answer, my mother interrupted. “He’s afraid that if he’s not finished eating when you get ready to walk out that door, you’ll leave him. And he’s right. Changing the subject, what’s this I heard about you having a physical altercation at that place?”

  Grant texted: Two Restaurant @ 6.

  Damn. What had struck a nerve with her? “Mama?” I said. I tilted my head toward my son, then demanded, “Ronnie, go in the living room and play video games.”

  “But I’m not finished eating,” he whined.

  His inquisitive behind wasn’t fooling me. He wanted to hear what my mother would say next. Firmly, I told him, “Now, Ronnie. Take your plate with you, boy.” I knew my mother didn’t like anyone eating in her contemporary-style living room, with expensive chinchilla throws draped over the edges of her customized pineapple-colored leather sofa and mocha chairs.

  Staring at me without blinking, my mother overruled me. “Ronnie, leave the plate on the table, sweetheart, and go read a book.”

  I texted Grant: Can’t wait!

  “Okay, Grandma,” my son said, dashing off to his personalized bookcase, which my mother had designed and engraved with his name on the day he was born. I must admit that having his own book collection—some autographed—and having my mother read with him every day for twenty minutes had made Ronnie more eager to read than to watch television, like he did at our house. I’d noticed that being able to spell words and read complete sentences made my son proud to be smart.

  Tilting my head sideways, I wondered how long it took my mother to teach Ronnie how to read a book on his own.

  Observing the expression on my face, Mama said, “I taught him in six weeks. Children like consistency. But what they don’t like is having their mother consistently gone. Now, Velvet, tell me what happened last night.” Mama clamped her hands on top of the table, then stared at me.

  Closing my Sidekick, I said, “Ma, it was nothing really.” Actually, it was none of her business, but I wasn’t bold enough to say that.

  “Velvet, when are you going to stop lying to yourself, to me, to Ronnie? From what I was told, that woman showed up at Stilettos to kill you because you’re sleeping with her husband.”

  As usual, my mother knew more than I’d figured, and I had no idea how she’d found out, but I couldn’t lie to her. I was grateful for that woman who’d saved my life. I vaguely recalled her handing me a business card, which I’d stuffed in my bag, without looking at it.

  “She’s the stupid one. She’s in jail, and I hope she rots there,” I told Mama. “I didn’t do anything to her. The person she should’ve checked was her cheating husband, not me.”

  “Velvet, look at me. She’s a woman.”

  “Yeah, a crazy woman.”

  “Be quiet and listen. Haven’t I taught you how to respect yourself? I don’t approve of you working at that place, but I can’t make you quit. You don’t know everything, sweetheart. That woman undoubtedly has marital issues that need to be resolved with her husband, but that’s her husband. When you become involved with a married man, you’re putting yourself in the middle of their problems. It’s easier for the other woman to attack you, because no matter what that man has done or continues to do, she still loves him. Whether or not he loves her is irrelevant. What’s real is neither one of them loves you.”

  At that moment I received another text message…from Tolliver. I need to see you. Call me. No way was I going to call him. Was he fucking retarded?

  Go fuck yourself! I texted him back, then laid my phone on my lap, out of my mother’s reach. I didn’t care if she got a hold of Grant’s messages, but no way was I letting her read what Tolliver had texted. Some of what Mama said might’ve been true, but Tolliver’s wife was wrong for trying to hurt me. I picked up my phone and texted, Well, now she has time to think about what she should’ve done, because I’m pressing charges against her.

  Tolliver texted again. Velvet, don’t do this to me.

  Under the table, without looking at the keyboard, I texted him back. What part of go fuck yourself didn’t you get, trick?

  Slap! My mother’s hand landed across my cheek as if she were clairvoyant.

  “Ow!” I rubbed my aching jaw. “Ma, that’s not fair.”

  “Don’t you tell me what’s not fair. What’s not fair is Ronnie doesn’t know his father, and if I leave it up to you, he never will. Honey Thomas found him. We found Alphonso Allen.”

  Frowning in disbelief, I said, “You did what?” My burning cheek hung low. “Ma, no,” I whispered, with tears running down my face. She had no right to do that. Especially when I’d told her not to.

  Tolliver texted a third time. Velvet, don’t make me come to your house.

  My fingers ran across the keys of my phone. Try it and you’ll end up behind bars like your crazy-ass wife. Leave me the fuck alone! What could he possibly want from me?

  “This isn’t about you, Velvet. It’s about Ronnie. He has a right to know, and like it or not, I’ve arranged a date for Ronnie to meet Alphonso.”

  Frantically, my head swung from side to side as I told Mama, “You have no right to do this!”

  Slap! My mother’s hand landed across my opposite cheek.

  This was quickly turning into one of those days when I should’ve gone the fuck about my business without stopping at my mother’s house. “Stop it, Ma. I’m twenty-five. I can make my own mistakes. I’m not your little girl anymore. I’m a woman. And what if they call me for a second audition and my face is messed up because of your misdirected anger. Stop it.”

  “You are not your priority. Ronnie is your priority. Ronnie deserves to judge his father for himself. Just because you opened your legs without thinking first and conceived my grandson doesn’t mean you have the right to decide whether or not he gets to know his father. And you’re not running off to Hollywood and leaving him for me to raise by myself.”

  I looked down at my
phone. No text from Tolliver. I worried that he was serious about showing up at my house. I started crying. “Alphonso made it clear he wanted no parts of us. Ma, my God, you know he raped me.”

  Mama’s lips tightened. She exhaled. “If you hadn’t carelessly gone to the beach late at night with a stranger, that wouldn’t have been an option for him, now would it?”

  My mom couldn’t say the word rape, because that was how she’d conceived me. Just because she loved me and had raised me by herself, she felt I was supposed to do the same with Ronnie. But I couldn’t. I wasn’t strong like my mother. “So you’re still blaming me?”

  “The us part could be true, baby, but Alphonso has an obligation to Ronnie, and he needs to pay you child support so you can stop struggling, working two jobs, and sleeping with married men for money, and start investing time in your child. I’m trying to get you to see the bigger picture. Let him pay for his mistake. The time has come for you to handle yourself and your son differently.”

  Conceding to a competition I hadn’t signed up for and couldn’t win, I asked, “So what should I do?”

  Another text popped up from Tolliver. I’m on my way.

  Then another from Grant. Are you on your way?

  Suck your own dick, trick! I texted back. I’m calling the police right now, and I’m going to show them your messages. I don’t give a fuck about you or your crazy-ass wife!

  “Oh, shit!” As soon as I hit the SEND key, I’d realized my last message, intended for Tolliver, had gone to Grant.

  “You’ll start by dropping all charges against that man’s wife,” Mama said.

  How in the hell had we gotten back to Tolliver’s wife? Backing away from my mother’s reach, I shook my head. “No, I’m not. Ma, she deserves to do time.”

  “Who in the hell are you to determine if that woman deserves to do time? What she deserves is not to have women like you fucking her husband. Taking money from him is the same as taking her money. How would you feel if someone took your money?”

  Suddenly, I remembered my mother’s husband had divorced her for another woman. This was another battle I was destined to lose, but I had to defend my position. “I didn’t take Tolliver’s money. He gave it to me,” I said, trying to think of an explanation to text to Grant since he hadn’t texted me back.

  “In exchange for what, Velvet? Don’t you see those men idolize what’s between your legs, not what’s between your ears? What did you have to give him to get a few dollars? Huh? What? Pussy? Suck his dick? What?”

  Actually, yes, I did want to suck a dick. Grant’s dick. But he hadn’t texted me back. Fuck! Mama, shut up! I thought. I decided to pretend the previous text message hadn’t been sent at all. I texted Grant: C U @ Two in 30 mins.

  I couldn’t change what had happened to my mother. She was forever going to be a bitter woman. That was why no man, not even the ones at the church she went to, wanted to spend time with her. She couldn’t let go of her pain. I knew she lived her life trying to do the right things, but she’d made her mistakes, and I wished she’d leave me the hell alone and let me make mine! Angrily, I exhaled and became quiet. This was an argument I was not going to win, and the reality was I needed my mother more than any other person in my life, including my son.

  “Fine. I’ll have Honey call Alphonso and confirm our meeting, and I’ll let you know,” Mama said. “If you don’t want to go with us, I’ll take Ronnie to Los Angeles to meet his dad, and then I’ll take him to Disneyland.”

  I was not amused about my mother’s attempt to get me excited about going back to Disneyland. We’d had so much fun when she’d taken me that I still had my Minnie Mouse ears in my bedroom. Ronnie was going to literally do flips when my mother told him they were going on vacation and he’d get to meet his dad and Mickey on the same day.

  “Are you done telling me what to do with my life? If so, I have someplace to be.”

  My mother walked away from the table. “Ronnie, it’s time to go,” she called. Looking over her shoulder at me, she said, “Baby, you’ve got to learn to let love…love. Take your son with you.”

  “Fine.” Yanking Ronnie’s hand, I tugged him straight to my car. I was trying to figure out what my mother had meant when she said, “Learn to let love…love.”

  I texted Grant: I’m on my way.

  “Ronnie, sweetheart, go tell Grandma to pick you up some undershirts while she’s out,” I said, sending Ronnie back to my mom. When her door opened, I drove off.

  CHAPTER 19

  Grant

  Texting was not my thing, but Red Velvet loved it. Maybe I’d call or respond to her some other day. Honey and I had made love all night long, and when I got that strange text from Red Velvet, I decided not to show up at Two Restaurant with a stripper who half of the male patrons had probably fucked. What was I thinking, offering to take her to a nice public place? I bypassed the restaurant and drove straight to Honey’s house instead. I had enough strange things happening. Plus, I wanted more of my sweet Honey love. We’d had a fucktastic time last night, this morning, both.

  En route to Honey’s house, I called ahead. “You sure you’re up for company again tonight?” I sure hoped so. My dick had got hard off and on all day, whenever I thought about how Honey had me pulling toys out of her pleasure chest. I think we used the whole tube of Sweet ’N Blow.

  “I was just about to call and confirm. You know you’re flakey. If you’re really coming, come on. Hurry up,” Honey said. “If you’re not here in an hour, don’t come tonight.”

  I didn’t want to argue her point, but just because I didn’t do what she wanted, when she wanted, did not make me flakey. My comprehension was good and my vocabulary somewhat extensive, but that wasn’t even a real word. I refused to spoil our evening. To add a little fun to our sexcapades, I stopped off at Best Buy and repurchased The Boondocks series, went to Albertsons and got one pint of Cherry Garcia, then headed to Honey’s. That woman made me feel so alive, I felt like I was having an out-of-body experience.

  Honey greeted me at the door, dressed in a long, black, sheer lace gown with a split from the center of her tits to the floor, so I could see that her Brazilian wax was fresh. I didn’t care who saw us. I knelt in the doorway, before her pussy, then kissed her soft lips.

  Bracing her hands on the opened door, Honey spread her legs and sat her pussy on my face. Ducking underneath her legs, I lifted her onto my shoulders, braced her back against the door, and began eating her sweet pussy. I eased her clit between my teeth and sucked her into my mouth.

  Honeysuckle oozed onto my tongue. Lowering her to her feet, I unzipped my pants, pulled out my dick, turned Honey so she faced the door, raised her lace gown over her firm ass, then penetrated her nice and slow, so deep my nuts sandwiched between her lips.

  “Grant, yes. Fuck me, baby,” she moaned. Her body remained motionless, letting me take the lead.

  I had no problem with that. I wanted to please Honey every chance I could. “Get on your knees,” I told her. I knelt behind her. I grabbed my dick, rubbed my head all over her wet pussy, then glided deep inside of her. Holding her shoulders, I slammed my dick hard against her ass.

  We fucked our way onto the porch and damn near into the driveway, like two dogs stuck together. I never wanted to pull out. “Damn. How could I have ever stayed away from this sweet pussy?” I said. “Damn, baby.”

  Honey reached behind her head, snatched off the ribbon that held her ponytail in place, then reached between her legs, tied her ribbon around my nuts, and pulled me closer to her while she stroked her clit.

  “Baby, cum with me,” I whispered in her ear. Honey’s body trembled. I collapsed on top of her. Watching the sunset fade into night, I kissed Honey’s lips. “I think we’d better get inside. Where is everybody? It’s awfully quiet.”

  “All the girls have cars now, so they’re out. I think they’re at Atlantic Station, shopping, but who cares. What’s in the bags?” she asked, closing the front door.

  “
Damn. I forgot all about those bags,” I said, picking them up off the white-marble, million-dollar floor. I loved Honey’s flooring so much, I’d decided to do the same at my hotel and condo building downtown. I grabbed two spoons from the kitchen, then followed Honey into her bedroom. I pulled out the DVDs and the ice cream.

  “That’s why I love you,” she said, softly gripping my hand. Honey moved my hand to her pussy and her hand to my dick. “We need to shower.”

  After fucking outdoors, I knew we had to wash up. I thought she just wanted to feel this big dick again. I got into the shower first and lathered my body. The hot water felt good. Being back in Honey’s house with her was where I belonged. Hm, she’d never spent the night at my house. We’d have to change that. As I stepped out of the shower, Honey said, “Leave the water on.”

  I kissed her, then made my way to the bed and lay down. What in the hell was I doing? I only had a fraction of the information I’d come for. I’d forgotten to ask her about Sunny and to clarify the story behind all the money. Wasn’t like she’d offered to bring up the conversation again, either. I had to know more about my Honey love, or else my ass might end up behind bars with Valentino, whoever he was.

  Honey’s cell phone chimed, interrupting my thoughts. The shower was going, so I imagined she couldn’t hear her phone. Walking over to her dresser, I picked up her iPhone. Blocked call. Why not? I answered. “Hello,” I said.

  “Who’s this?” a woman asked. Before I answered, she demanded, “Put Lace on the phone.”

  Okay, this person must’ve known Honey for a while, because she’d used her real name. I replied, “Lace, is not available. I can give her a message.”

  Silence followed.