When Somebody Loves You Back

by Mary B. Morrison

  God only knew what Candice was plotting next. Darius was certain she didn’t accidentally end up in Dallas.

  Changing into a pair of oversize denims, Jordans, and a tall T-shirt, Darius rocked his Bentley all the way to his mom’s house.

  Entering his mother’s front door, Darius stopped when he saw Candice on the sofa. Her face was long, her head was wrapped in bandages. A white brace covered her neck.

  “Where’s my mom?” Darius asked, sitting across from Candice.

  “She’s upstairs. In her bed. Won’t get out.”

  “So, you told her the truth?”

  “I don’t think this is a good time, considering Wellington is dying. She’s dealing with enough, don’t you think?”

  “If it were up to me, I woulda left your ass behind bars.”

  “Why is it that everyone can bail your sorry ass out but you’re so damn righteous that you can’t forgive anybody else? Huh, Darius? Your little test came back negative and now you’re shittin’ on top of the world.”

  How’d she know that? Clenching his teeth, Darius thought about the message he’d left for Mandy. Closing in two inches from Candice’s face, he said, “I don’t know how you found out, but if you publicize anything about me, my mother, or my family, I’ll make sure you dry-rot in prison. You hear me?”

  “A fine role model you’ll make for your son,” Candice said. “You better be glad I got my purse and tote bag back from Ashlee or your ass would be six, ten, and midnight news!”

  Grabbing Candice’s blouse, Darius French-kissed her square in her mouth, thrusting his tongue down her throat. “You know you want me.” Breathing in her face he said, “You know too much about me not to. You’re curious. I can tell.”

  Trotting upstairs to his mother’s room, Darius knocked on the door.

  “Who is it?”

  “It’s me, Ma.”

  “Come in.”

  Entering his mother’s room, Darius sat on her bed. “How are you?”

  His mother was quiet.

  “Wanna talk?”

  She didn’t respond.

  “Where’s my dad?”

  Silence.

  Darius knew she could say something, because she told him to come in. “You want me to leave?”

  His mother shook her head.

  Darius grabbed a pillow, laid his head at the foot of his mother’s bed, then gently rubbed her feet. No one knew better than Darius Williams the power of the human touch. He’d call Fancy later to share his great news. Hopefully, after he’d finish taking care of his mom, Ladycat would pack her bags and move with him to Atlanta.

  CHAPTER 33

  Fancy

  Two wrongs didn’t make them right.

  What woman wouldn’t want a man who’d drop everything in his life to be at her side when she needed him?

  No distance too far to travel. No mountain too high to climb. No pain too great to endure. Fancy had broken Desmond’s heart countless times. Or perhaps Desmond was to blame for having a foolish heart. Irrespective of her analysis, if she used him again, he’d leave her for good.

  God only knew how much Desmond had sacrificed to pay for her diamond solitaire. Should Fancy care? What if Desmond had more student loans and credit card debt than Fancy was willing to marry into? Perhaps she should give Desmond back his ring. But he was so excited. Fancy hadn’t worked hard to become wealthy, to give her money away to bill collectors that didn’t care who settled the account. What if Desmond’s credit score was below seven hundred? Fancy didn’t have that much love for him. One thing for sure, Fancy never had financially related concerns with Darius.

  Prepping in the pastor’s study for SaVoy’s special day, Fancy stared at her reflection in the mirror, unsure if she’d accepted Desmond’s proposal because she sincerely wanted to marry Dez, or because she loved the way he loved her. Why couldn’t Darius love her the way Dez did?

  Lavishly layering her skin with retinol vitamin A cream mixed with vitamin E oil, Fancy massaged her feet, then covered them with cotton socks, then massaged her legs, knees, thighs, butt, all the way up to her neck, continuing to her face. Admiring her body, she saw she had no cellulite, no stretch marks, no blemishes. Everything happened for a reason. Seeing how much weight her mother gained, maybe she should be grateful she wasn’t carrying Darius’s baby, especially since she wasn’t a hundred percent sure she wanted Darius back in her life.

  Careful not to graze her false eyelashes, Fancy meticulously applied her waterproof foundation. Tracing her eyes, then her lips with separate pencils, she blended sexy shades of brown eye shadow and mocha lipstick to perfection. Releasing the pins from her fresh Top Notch Salon weave, Fancy fingered the loose curls, tossing them over her shoulders. Stepping into her maid-of-honor dress, she removed her socks, easing on her open-toe shoes. Last and least desired, Fancy slipped on her engagement ring, knowing that would be the first thing Desmond would look for.

  Feeling more like a bride, not a maid of anything, Fancy sashayed to the choir fitting room to join Tanya and the two bridesmaids Fancy hadn’t met. It’d been a long time since Fancy had seen or spoken with Tanya, a friend she’d befriended in high school exclusively because of SaVoy.

  Tanya was not sophisticated enough to hang out on or off campus with Fancy. Tanya was overweight, unattractive, and shy. SaVoy, with her tree-hugging personality, had insisted on welcoming Tanya to join them.

  “Fancy, you’re still so beautiful,” Tanya said, smiling. “I’m so happy for our girl.”

  Suctioning in her stomach superflat, Fancy thought she had to hit the gym first thing in the morning to work off the two remaining pounds she’d gained from drowning her Darius sorrows in junk food. No man could make Fancy so depressed that she’d ruin her perfect body.

  “I’m happy for SaVoy too,” Fancy said, looking at Tanya’s appearance. “You’re looking good, but the way you hooked up that ensemble is killing me. Let me help you out.”

  Fancy should’ve helped Tanya when they were in high school, but Fancy hadn’t matured beyond peer pressure. Looking good at all times, being best dressed, and most congenial was essential for Fancy’s reputation. No one, except SaVoy, witnessed what Fancy had to endure at home. Cleaning up behind a drunken mother who threw up every weekend only scratched the surface of her childhood problems.

  Tanya moved closer to Fancy. “I’m still trying to get myself together. I ended up leaving William. Marriage made him worse. He had the same old controlling, abusive ways. Somehow after I said, ‘I do,’ he thought signing the license gave him the right to beat me. But when he started acting a fool in front of our son, I knew my son and I had to go. Funny how I couldn’t find the courage to protect myself, but I had the strength to protect my son.”

  “Well, good for you.” Fancy removed, then reapplied Tanya’s makeup. “Girl, you’ve got to make your twins comfortable. You can’t just snap on a bra and you’re done. Look at your titties all smashed under the wire.” Fancy lifted each breast high into the cup, pulled the back comfortably across Tanya’s shoulders, then reshaped Tanya’s breasts until they touched, to show cleavage. Then Fancy went to work on Tanya’s hair. “You definitely made the right decision to leave him. What are you doing now?”

  “I’m just a stay-at-home mom for now.” Lowering her head, Tanya continued. “On welfare.”

  Placing her hand under Tanya’s chin, Fancy looked into Tanya’s eyes, and said, “Honey, raising kids is a full-time job. Trust me, no mom is just a stay-at-home mom.”

  For a brief moment, Fancy wondered, what if her little girl hadn’t been taken away?

  “But I need a break. It’s hard trying to find a job that pays enough to take care of our expenses, plus pay for day care. I can’t afford either.”

  “Turn around. Look at yourself in the mirror.”

  “Wow.” Tanya smiled, then covered her mouth. “Is that me?”

  “A little attention to details goes a long way. From now on I want you to make time for Tanya.
You’re beautiful. You don’t think I get this way by rushing out the door, or slapping on lipstick straight from a tube, do you?”

  Hugging Fancy, Tanya said, “Thanks.”

  Fancy held Tanya’s hand. “Welfare is a temporary solution to your future success. You have to visualize being wealthy, then commit to working hard to make it happen. I can help you. If I told you I grossed ten million last year, I know you wouldn’t believe me. But it’s true. If you want to make some real money, I need a dependable office assistant to operate my Oakland office. Nothing too demanding, but you have to be efficient and timely because in my business time is money. I’ll cover your day-care expenses for six months. And if you find you love and have a passion for real estate, I’ll pay for your classes, hire you as an agent, and we can both make money.”

  “For real?” Tanya became teary.

  “None of that. Not today. You’ll ruin my fabulous makeup job. Enjoy this weekend and call me Monday.”

  The flower girl raced into the room saying, “She’s here. The limo just pulled up.”

  This was the moment Fancy had wished a long time for herself. She was happy for SaVoy and glad that Desmond was there. But in her heart, she truly wished she was the one marrying Darius.

  CHAPTER 34

  SaVoy

  True love wasn’t easy to find.

  Marrying Tyronne Davis was a blessing. If SaVoy had listened to Fancy, she might have suffered Fancy’s faith of being manless and confused, questioning if she wanted a husband, a relationship, or neither.

  Yes, Tyronne knew the streets well. Was that a bad thing? He didn’t hide his Sidekick. He always answered his phone. And the one time SaVoy caught him with a woman on his lap—after dumping the woman on the floor—Tyronne raced out of the club after SaVoy, then admitted the truth. Tyronne knew how to sweet-talk the ladies, but he wasn’t a dog.

  SaVoy’s daddy once said, “A man who has something to hide will always get caught in a lie.”

  What SaVoy loved about Tyronne was, unlike Darius, Tyronne respected, loved, and protected her. And unlike Desmond, Tyronne didn’t try to be somebody he wasn’t. Tyronne wanted a good woman, but similar to finding a good man, a good woman was hard to find too. The one thing SaVoy had asked of Tyronne before they married, he had done. Tyronne had committed his life to God.

  SaVoy gave thanks first unto the Lord, then to Vanessa, her father’s girlfriend, for teaching her invaluable life lessons. Before SaVoy married Tyronne, Vanessa instructed her on how to masturbate and enjoy orgasms without losing her virginity. Then after the wedding reception, Vanessa had said, “Rule number one. Discuss your relationship issues with your man, not with your girlfriends. Number two, never, ever tell your friends, males and females, how good your man is in bed. That’ll make them curious enough to fuck him behind your back.” She added, “You never know. And three, don’t sweat the small stuff. Not everything is worth arguing over.” That was wise advice from a woman who refused to remarry.

  Closing the door to their Hawaii honeymoon suite, SaVoy began preparing her body for her husband. She borrowed a few tips from Fancy, like the milk and honey bath and stretching before sex. SaVoy styled her hair, allowing a few curls to dangle. Then she put on a thin layer of pink lip gloss, her white sheer nightgown with matching robe, and clear high heels. Double-checking to ensure that the right CD was in the player, SaVoy unlocked the door and said, “Honey, I’m ready for you.”

  The music played as Tyronne strolled into the bedroom dressed in white linen. “Every time I close my eyes I thank the Lord that I’ve got you. And you’ve got me too…” Tyronne had dedicated Babyface’s song as their special song when they first started dating.

  “You look so beautiful, I almost don’t want to touch you.”

  SaVoy smiled. “You’d better touch me soon before I explode.”

  Slowly, Tyronne untied, then peeled away her robe, letting it fall to the floor. He kissed her fingers, one at a time, trailing his moist lip prints over her wrist, to the arch in her elbow. He French-kissed her, moving to her triceps, and then he licked her armpit.

  “Uh,” SaVoy said, smirking.

  “Uh, nothing, woman. No parts of you are off-limits to me ever again.”

  SaVoy unbuttoned his shirt, then touched Tyronne’s muscular chest and began kissing him as he continued loving her. His lips patted through the material around her nipple, making her hotter.

  Her tongue fluttered in his ear.

  Softly he sucked her breast, soaking her gown. “So beautiful,” he said, kissing the other breast.

  Easing her hands to his waist, she untied his pants, shoving them toward his ankles. Tyronne stepped, leaving two circles where his feet were once planted.

  He slid the thin straps off her shoulders, releasing the gown to the floor. With one hand cradled around her back and the other underneath her knees, Tyronne carried, then laid her in the middle of their king-size bed atop the soft white sheets.

  “Let me see her,” he whispered, removing his linen jacket and tossing it to the floor.

  Spreading her legs wide, SaVoy closed her eyes. Tyronne kissed her lips as his saliva rolled between her cheeks over her asshole.

  “Mmmmm,” she moaned with pleasure.

  He placed his finger against her hymen, pressing gently. “That’s what we’re going to work getting past.” He poked. “This outer layer of tissue right here.”

  As Tyronne crawled on top of her, SaVoy lifted her legs, wondering if his dick was too big. What if it didn’t fit? Sliding the tip of his head in, Tyronne gently moved in and out, stretching her hymen—the membranous fold of tissue. Soon her pearly gate would finally unlock.

  That wasn’t so bad, SaVoy thought. In fact, it felt good.

  Tyronne’s lips covered hers as his tongue invaded her mouth.

  “I love you, SaVoy,” he said, gazing deep into her eyes.

  “I love you, Tyronne.”

  “I’m gonna go a little deeper. If you’re ever too uncomfortable, let me know.”

  “Okay,” SaVoy said, closing her eyes. Bracing her arms and hands against his back, she held him tight.

  “Relax,” he said, kissing her again.

  Tyronne’s shaft pressed firm against her cherry, pushing in and out. With each thrust he probed a little deeper.

  “Ow,” SaVoy moaned.

  “You want me to stop?”

  “No, don’t stop,” SaVoy said, burying her face in his chest. With every thrust, SaVoy held Tyronne closer.

  “Ow.” She paused, breathed, then repeated, “Ow,” a little louder.

  “Ba-beee! Ba-bee! Owwww!” SaVoy screamed like never before as the excruciating pain darted throughout her entire body.

  “I’m in. Relax. She’s open. You’re not a virgin anymore. We can stop here and continue in the morning or I can go down on you if you’d like.”

  Shaking her head, SaVoy cried tears of pain and joy as her husband continued loving her.

  SaVoy Edmonds-Davis knew neither of them was perfect, but they both believed in God and that was a blessed foundation to build their marriage.

  CHAPTER 35

  Simone

  He was worth more to her dead than alive.

  Who does that bitch think she is, telling me what she’s not going to do? Simone thought, exiting the freeway en route to Jada’s house. Her nostrils flared, her chest rose and fell with each breath, while her fingers wrapped snug at ten and two on the steering wheel. She didn’t have the decency to phone and say my son’s father was dead.

  Bitch. I hate her, Simone thought, desperately wanting to curse aloud. “Uuuhhhh!” she screamed, squirming in her seat.

  Leaning forward from the backseat, her son frowned. “Mommy, you gotta use the bathroom?”

  Simone should’ve used the restroom when she stopped for gas, but she was too anxious to hear Jada’s excuse. Simone was livid and didn’t mind taking out her frustrations on that “I got my own business, don’t need a man, but I’ll take yours
” Hollywood whore.

  The thought of kicking Jada’s ass and going to the bathroom brought back bad memories of the night Wellington had ended their relationship, all casual and shit.

  Simone had gone to the bathroom and returned with a smoking-hot wet towel. Cleaning Wellington off, she asked, “Is everything okay? Why’d you stop?”

  “Yeah, give me a minute,” Wellington had said, rubbing his head.

  “Just seems like you’re tensed. Almost like you forced that orgasm out.” Simone tried reviving The Ruler, but he only shriveled up more.

  She knew him too well. He might as well tell her the truth.

  “Diamond asked me to marry her.”

  What the hell? The towel smacked against his privates like Silly Putty sticking to the wall.

  “Ouch! Goddamn, Simone. What did you do that for?” Wellington had asked, covering his dick.

  “How could you make love to me without telling me this first! And what did you tell her?”

  “I said yes.”

  “Fuck you, Wellington Jones. And fuck that Hollywood whore. I hate her ass too!”

  But why did Simone hate Jada? She didn’t. Simone was possessed with envy, the green-eyed monster that had turned her into a raging beast. Jada hadn’t done anything to her. She was always polite. Friendly. Treated her son well. There was no justifiable explanation for why Simone loved Wellington but still hated Jada.

  “Mommy, you okay?”

  “No, baby. I’m not okay.” Who was going to pay their mortgage?

  “We’re going to see Daddy!” Wellington the second said, bouncing on the backseat.

  “Calm down, baby.”

  The father of her son, the love of her life, the keeper of her lifestyle, and the source of her happiness was gone, forever.

  Why hadn’t Simone come to L.A. earlier? She couldn’t ask Wellington for money while he was sick. If she had tried, Jada would’ve intervened. Jada was the reason Simone didn’t visit Wellington at the hospital. Simone didn’t want Jada telling her what to do. Jazzmyne could’ve asked. Wellington could’ve asked. Darius could’ve asked and she would’ve come. But not that Hollywood whore.