When Somebody Loves You Back

by Mary B. Morrison

  Quietly Darius went to his closet and packed an overnight bag. As he angrily shoved T-shirts, pants, extra underwear, and socks inside, his jaw flinched. He couldn’t stand the sight of Fancy, and he’d best leave before seriously hurting her.

  “What difference does it make if I try to do right but you don’t believe me? Fuck this shit!” Darius yelled, knocking the contents on the nightstand onto the floor. The lamp broke into halves. The framed picture of them together shattered. “I’ll be at the hospital with my mom today and in Atlanta tonight.” His cell phone beeped. The text message from his mother read URGENT! Meet me at emergency. NOW!

  Staring down on Fancy, Darius whispered, “Ladycat, if you kill my child, I swear I hope you die too. If you don’t, you’ll wish you were dead.” Turning away from Fancy’s pitiful face, he ran out of the bedroom, jumped in his Bentley, and hurried to the hospital.

  CHAPTER 15

  Jada

  Some said people who suffered on earth before dying were basically good folk paying for all of their earthly sins; one last chance to repent before entering the pearly gates of heaven. Although Wellington’s condition was critical, Jada remained optimistic. Hopefully his pain was one of those unexplainable hardships that no one could understand the “why me?” but in retrospect the experience made them better. More grateful. Refusing to take life for granted ever again. That is, if they survived.

  Sirens blared, zooming along the interstate as the ambulance zigzagged between SUVs, eighteen wheelers, sedans, and small hatchbacks. Mercedeses, BMWs, Porches, and throwbacks. Every car model built was on a highway, street, or backyard in L.A.

  Jada squatted on a rectangular padded bench beside her husband’s gurney, gently holding his hand. Silently she prayed, “Lord, I know Your will will be done. I pray that You spare my husband of unbearable pain and I pray it’s in Your will to please, please let him be healthy again. No matter how imperfect, he makes me complete. If it’s his time, I ask that You do not allow him to suffer.”

  A walnut-sized lump lodged in Jada’s throat. Barely breathing, she turned her head, trying to swallow, but couldn’t. Trying to shed tears but she didn’t. Opening her mouth, Jada slowly inhaled. Wellington quietly stared at the roof. He didn’t blink. Didn’t move. His body was limp. Chest cold to her touch.

  The paramedic beside her firmly said, “Ma’am, please don’t touch him. Just hold his hand.”

  Jada’s eyes narrowed, nearly closing. That’s my damn husband, she thought. Doing what she felt was in Wellington’s best interest, she didn’t respond. Desperately she wanted to call her support group, Darius, Wellington’s sister, Jazzmyne, Candice, Darryl, and Simone, so they could meet her at the hospital, but Jada didn’t want to upset Wellington. Nor did she want to be alone. Instead, she text-messaged all of them the same note, URGENT! Meet me at emergency. NOW!

  “Baby, everything’s gonna be all right,” Jada said, squeezing Wellington’s hand.

  Wellington’s jaw flinched and his lips tightened while he continuously stared ahead. Tears glided into his ears. No response.

  The paramedic gripped a pair of shears and began cutting Wellington’s pajama pants down one leg, then up the other. Peeling away the plaid cotton material, Jada covered her mouth and gagged. “Oh my God.” Heaving and holding her stomach, she fought to keep down the bile percolating up her esophagus.

  Bloodstains showered the white boxers as Wellington began urinating on himself. Not yellow. Not white. Red blood secreted from his penis.

  The paramedic looked at her, then asked, “Advanced prostate cancer?” covering Wellington’s private area with a sheet.

  Jada nodded. Prunelike, her face shrank as she forced back her tears. She wasn’t trying to spare Wellington’s feelings. She was trying so hard to be strong for her husband. There was a difference.

  Exiting the freeway and running a few red lights, the driver parked in the hospital’s reserved emergency space. Jada waited until the paramedics removed Wellington’s gurney, rushing him inside. Stumbling out of the ambulance, Jada leaned against the side. If she would’ve eaten a salad, partially digested lettuce, tomatoes, and croutons would’ve splattered beside the rear tire instead of yellowish bile. Another day she’d forgotten to take care of herself.

  Hurrying inside, Jada scanned, searching for Wellington. Grabbing the first medical assistant she saw, she asked, “Where’d they take my husband? They just brought him in.”

  “Eew, ma’am.” The assistant covered his mouth, mumbling, “Visitors aren’t allowed beyond this point.” Pinching his nose, he continued in his froggy voice, “You’ll have to wait in the seating area or the main lobby. But I’ll see what I can find out for you.” Stepping back, releasing his nostrils, he asked, “What’s your husband’s name?”

  Covering her mouth, Jada answered, “Wellington Jones. He has a bald head. He’s about—”

  “If he just came in, the name is sufficient.” Swiftly the medical assistant disappeared behind the swinging double doors.

  Racing to the restroom, Jada cried the tears she couldn’t shed in front of Wellington. She cupped her hands under the cold water, splattering her face. Filling her mouth with water, she swished, swished, then spat repeatedly into the trash can.

  “What was I thinking?” A hospital, with all its contaminations, bacteria, and diseases, was the worst place to use water for anything except washing your hands.

  Gnawing her nails, Jada paced from the towel dispenser to the stall and back, praying she hadn’t contracted any germs. “Damn!” She’d exposed herself again, placing her fingers in her mouth. Dabbing her face with a paper towel, exiting the restroom, she thought, What if they’re looking for me?

  Scanning the room, Jada noticed that none of the medical professionals were looking for anyone. “Excuse me,” Jada said, interrupting the take-in specialist, “can you please tell me where my husband is? Someone went to check on him. His name is Wellington Jones.”

  After a few taps on the keyboard, the lady asked, “When did he come in?”

  “About fifteen minutes ago.”

  “It’ll take time to get him in the system. First the doctors have to access his condition and determine where to send him. Check back in about a half hour.”

  “A half hour?”

  Ignoring Jada, the take-in specialist announced, “Sylvia Carrington.”

  Jada walked to the lobby entrance in search of Darius and was relieved when she saw Jazzmyne looking around.

  “Jazzmyne, I’m over here,” Jada said, waving and then walking in Jazzmyne’s direction.

  “Everything’s gonna be all right,” Jazzmyne said reassuringly, wrapping her arms around Jada. “How’s my brother?”

  “I’m so glad you’re here. I don’t know yet.” Jada’s stomach churned with nervous energy. “They said it’ll take about a half hour.”

  In circular motions, Jazzmyne rubbed Jada’s back. “Well, Wellington will be happy to hear that Shelly and Brandon sent their prayers. And…” Retrieving a tiny frame from her handbag, Jazzmyne held a painted superhero of Wellington cloaked in a red cape.

  Jada smiled, then nodded. “Shelly.”

  “You know his girl had to paint something for her favorite uncle,” Jazzmyne said.

  “He’s her only uncle,” Jada said.

  The last time Jada had seen Jazzmyne’s kids was a few days ago at the wedding. But Wellington hadn’t seen his niece or nephew for months.

  “Ma,” Darius said, strolling into the lobby. His arms held Jada for what appeared to be a lifetime. Almost like he needed her as much as she needed him. “I’m here, Ma. I love you. You’re my girl. Lean on me. I’ma be strong for you.”

  Jada cried on Darius’s shoulder. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

  Letting go, Darius asked, “Where’s Wellington?”

  Jada stared at Darius.

  “I mean, where’s Dad?”

  “They took him in the back.”

  How could she make Darius respect Well
ington? She’d correct Darius until he corrected himself.

  “Already. It only took me a few minutes to get here. I parked in the garage behind Jazzmyne.”

  Candice walked in and said, “Hey, girl. I got your text. Where’s your husband?”

  Exhaling, Jada said, “How long do y’all think it takes to get to the hospital in an ambulance? He’s gone. I mean—”

  Jazzmyne interrupted, “We know what you mean. What do you want me to do to help?”

  Jada’s phone rang. It was Wellington’s baby’s mama. “Hi, Simone. We’re in the lobby.”

  “Oh, I’m not at the hospital,” Simone replied. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to bring little Wellington to a hospital. He’s too young and impressionable.”

  If there was ever a time for family to come together, the time was now. “Simone, this is not about you, that’s Wellington’s only son.” Jada wished she could’ve taken back those words when she saw Darius turn away from her, but communication was irreversible, so she continued, “Wellington is in critical condition. Bring your son so Wellington can be with both of his sons. I’ll call you back and tell you what’s a good time.”

  “You might rule Wellington and his broken ruler, but you don’t rule me. This is my child and I said he’s not coming to the hospital. Call me when Wellington gets home.”

  “You are one self-centered jealous witch. As long as Wellington sends you ten times more money than what you deserve, pays for your vacations, and leaves your son with me on weekend visits, you don’t give a damn about…whateva.” Jada hung up noticing that Candice was staring in her mouth clinging to every word. Jazzmyne was talking to Darius.

  Jada interrupted, “Candice, you can go home. To your house. Jazzmyne, you can leave too. Darius is staying with me.”

  In unison, Candice and Jazzmyne replied, “What?” then looked at Darius.

  Watching Darius’s lips disappear inside his mouth, Darius exhaled, then said, “Ma, I have to fly to Atlanta tonight, but I’ll be back late tomorrow and I’ll come straight from the airport to the hospital or wherever you are.”

  Candice said, “Uh-huh,” rolling her eyes at Darius. “Sure you will.”

  Jazzmyne chimed in, “We know you have NBA obligations. It’s okay, Darius. We’ll take care of your mom until you get back.”

  Jada choked as her eyes watered. She didn’t mind Jazzmyne, or anyone else, with the exception of Candice, being there for her. Jada couldn’t tell what it was, but she’d gotten bad vibes from Candice lately. For whatever unexplainable reason, she needed Darius. “But, baby, you promised me you’d—”

  Jazzmyne hugged Jada. “It’s okay, Darius will be back before you know it. I’ll stay with you until he returns.”

  “Me too,” Candice hurriedly volunteered.

  “See, Mom? You’ll be okay. And I promise—”

  “Don’t promise me another thing as long as you live, Darius. You’ve hurt me for the last time. You’re always my priority, but I’m never yours! Just go!” As she turned away from Darius, Jada’s heart cried with disappointment.

  The nurse entered the lobby with the medical assistant, pointing at Jada. Jada’s heart skipped a beat when the nurse opened her mouth. “Mrs. Tanner, your husband wants to see you for a minute before he goes into the operating room.”

  “They’re going to operate now?” Jada’s knees weakened. She wanted to hug Darius but couldn’t. All she could do was cry while saying, “Darius, I can’t count on you for anything. But that’s okay. I’ll be all right. Just do me one favor.” Jada dried her eyes.

  “Anything, Ma, what is it?”

  “Don’t cry at my funeral, on my casket, or on my grave.” Watching Darius blink repeatedly, Jada turned to the nurse, then said, “I can’t let my husband see me like this. He’ll think I’m crying because of his condition. Please, just tell him I’ve already left.”

  “I’ll stay with Jada,” a deep voice resonated from behind.

  When everyone turned, Jada’s ex, Darius’s father, Darryl, dangled from her charm bracelet.

  Exhaling, Jada allowed Darryl to wrap his arms around her shoulders. Although she felt better, Darryl wasn’t Darius.

  Passionately rocking her side to side, Darryl whispered, “I’m here for you. Whateva you need, I’ve got.” Peering into Jada’s eyes, he continued, “Now go in that restroom, dry your tears, and go see your husband. I know if it were me in there, I’d need to see you too.”

  Jazzmyne accompanied Jada to the ladies’ room. When the door closed, Jada cried more. “Why does everyone love me, except the person I love most, my son?”

  “Stop talking crazy. You mustn’t have expectations of Darius. He can never give back to you what you’ve given him. Mark my words, Darius will be there for you the most when you least expect it. He has a good spirit. I can feel it. And you know Darius loves you. In his way, he loves you with all his heart. I can see that. Why can’t you?” Jazzmyne said, wiping Jada’s face.

  “Thanks. I hope you’re right. I’ll be fine.” Jada peacefully exited the restroom, ready to see her husband. “Where’s Darius?”

  The expressions and hunches said Darius was gone.

  The nurse said, “I’m sorry. Your husband’s condition has escalated. You’ll have to wait until after his surgery.”

  “What happened? Is Wellington okay?” Jada asked, following the nurse.

  Darryl followed Jada. Candice followed Darryl. Jazzmyne trailed Candice.

  Turning around, the nurse said, “Stop,” shaking her head. “You can’t see him now. Obviously you’re aware your husband hasn’t been okay for quite some time. The doctors will do all they can. I suggest going home, getting some rest. Bring a change of clothes with you when you come back tomorrow. He’ll need you to be strong for him after his operation.”

  Jada faintly said, “Tomorrow,” then collapsed in Darryl’s arms.

  Catching Jada, Darryl said, “You can’t be alone. Candice. Jazzmyne. I’ll stay with Jada tonight and call you guys tomorrow.”

  Immediately, Candice replied, “I’ll stay in my room at Jada’s house. Just in case.”

  CHAPTER 16

  Fancy

  Love.

  The most intense emotion known to mankind could make anyone simultaneously adore, worship, hate, and hurt their lover while self-imposing the same feelings upon themselves. Fancy hated herself for loving Darius so much and hated Darius for putting her and their baby at risk.

  Was the pussy worth dying for? Why didn’t Darius use protection?

  There was nothing at Darius’s home that Fancy couldn’t live without or replace, except Darius. In time, she’d find someone new to love her and her unborn baby. One last tour through the bedroom. One last sniff of his cologne. One last kick, stump, on his sexy-ass lips onto a broken photo frame lying next to the lamp beside his bed. “I hate you!” She ground the heel of her shoe into his face, hoping she’d never see him again.

  After all their drama, Fancy had barely made it to her appointment on time yesterday. She had to fake smiles, pretending she was happy all along, cursing Darius out in her head. No matter how upset, no man would make Fancy so depressed she didn’t handle her business. Years of depending on men to take care of her every need thankfully was history. Fancy was comforted knowing she had property of her own, a thriving business, and enough financial investments to retire off of today if she wanted to.

  Opening the top drawer, Fancy held a ripped bra in her hand. Digging deeper, she found several panties torn. Checking the remaining sets, Fancy shook her head. “Why?” What had she done to deserve this?

  “When did Darius have time to…He didn’t.”

  Player recognized game. Another bitch had ruined her shit. Probably the same one with the tainted pussy that had possibly ruined her future. “That’s okay,” Fancy whispered. “Just one more reason to leave his ass alone.” Like she wasn’t already convinced.

  Picking up the cordless, Fancy dialed pound seventy-two, then dialed
her cell phone number, answered her cell phone, then hung up. Forwarding Darius’s home incoming calls to her cell phone would let her know if or when he’d called the house to check his messages, or to check on her.

  Lying on her back, Fancy bent her knees, clamping her hands behind her head. “Ow,” she moaned, crunching, sucking in her stomach.

  “I am not going to let Darius drive me crazy. One, two, three…” Placing her hand below her abdomen, Fancy kept crunching. “Fifty-five. Damn, this hurts, ow, ow!” Determined to reach five hundred, she blocked out the physical pain mentally, thinking about life without Darius.

  Under all of his lies, what was the truth? His? Hers? Forget the truth. Truths were manipulated by desires. If she still desired to marry him, she was a fool. But God protected babies and fools. Didn’t He? If she stayed, the truth wouldn’t matter because the horrible things Darius had done could never be undone. Fancy replaced trying to conclude truth with the facts.

  Fact: no man would knowingly make love to her if she tested positive. Fact: Darius had become too aggressive and for unknown reasons, hostile. Fact: she couldn’t solve Darius’s problems. Fact: if she stayed, she’d be unhappy more than she’d be happy. Fact: despite all that had happened, Fancy hated Darius at the moment, but deep inside she couldn’t understand why she still loved him.

  “Four hundred ninety-eight, ninety-nine, whew! Five hundred! Yes!”

  Rolling onto her hands and knees, Fancy stood slowly, then stepped out onto the deck, gulping the cool fresh air. On the second inhale, she doubled over in pain like a heavyweight champion had punched her below the belt. Fancy flopped over the balcony. Back to back, each cramp became more severe. Breathing deeply, she held on to the redwood rail, praying her spinning head wouldn’t push her over the edge.

  “Ow!” she yelled into the crisp air. Her eyes glazed over the trees below, meshing them into one big evergreen blur. Fancy closed her eyes, then opened them, focusing on Michael intensely watching her.