When Somebody Loves You Back

by Mary B. Morrison

  “What you need to do is make up your mind. I’ll call you back with the details. Services are tomorrow at three with the burial immediately following.”

  Hanging up, Jada phoned Melanie with the same information.

  “Where’s Darius?”

  “He went to Atlanta, remember?”

  “Oh, that’s right.” Jada dialed Darius’s number. “Honey, the services are tomorrow at three.”

  “Ma, can you do it next week? I have an appointment I have to attend tomorrow morning in Dallas. But once I’m done, I’m on my way, Ma. I’ll be on the next flight out. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

  Jada looked at Jazzmyne. “Can you call everyone and reschedule the funeral for next week?”

  “Oh, because Darius asked, you’ll change everything, but not for me after all I’ve done for you?”

  “Please, don’t take any of this personally. You know I love you.”

  Extending her hand, Jazzmyne pressed her lips together, then replied, “Give me the damn phone, I’ll handle my brother’s services the right way.”

  Jada added, “Oh, and please call Fancy and give her the details. I’m going back upstairs. Wake me when Darius arrives.”

  “I’ll go with,” Darryl said, escorting Jada toward the staircase.

  Peering over her shoulder, Jada caught a glimpse of Jazzmyne staring before suddenly looking away. Whatever Jazzmyne was attempting to do Jada would eventually find out.

  Peeling back the covers, Jada crawled into bed fully dressed. Removing her shoes, Darryl sat beside her.

  “Ba, are you all right?”

  “Please don’t ever call me ba again,” Jada said.

  “What can I call you?”

  “Anything except ba.”

  “Do you want to do a weekend hideaway before the hearing?”

  “Darryl?”

  “Yes, b—honey.”

  “Why are you really here with me? Wasn’t it enough taking over Darius’s company?”

  Darryl rubbed her back. “I’m here because I’ve got a second chance. I’m not going to blow it. And I’ve always loved you.”

  “Always?”

  “Yes, always. And I still do.”

  “Wellington believed you only came back into our lives, Darius’s and mine, because you saw a financial opportunity for security. Is that why you hired Kevin to work at Darius’s firm after Kevin stole over a million dollars from Darius?”

  “Look, I want all of my kids to do well. And if we as a family can keep Kevin off the streets and out of jail, then this is bigger than Darius, we’re obligated.”

  “We?” Jada whispered. “Darryl, have you noticed the only child you gave life to that’s successful is the only one you didn’t raise? I’m never going to remarry. You or anyone else,” she said, pulling the covers up to her neck. “I’m exhausted. When Darius gets home, wake me.”

  “Look, I love you. It’s not about the money.”

  “Then find another job. You’re fired.”

  CHAPTER 40

  Fancy

  Who was Fancy kidding?

  Darius might have not been the man for her, but Desmond truly wasn’t. Michael Baines was rich, but they’d never make a good couple. Michael was single for a reason, and Fancy didn’t want to find out.

  “Mama, I’ll be back. I’m taking Dez to the airport.”

  “Okay, I’ll be right here. Too fat to fit behind a steering wheel and too uncomfortable to ride anywhere if I don’t have to,” Caroline said, rubbing her stomach.

  “Bye, Ms. Taylor,” Desmond said, kissing her cheek.

  “Bye, baby. Fancy, come back here. Desmond, excuse us for a minute.”

  “Yes, Mama?”

  Caroline patted the bed. “Sit here.”

  “What is it this time?” Fancy said, becoming annoyed.

  “Tell him the truth. Don’t let Desmond leave here believing you’re going to marry him.”

  “But the truth is, I don’t know what to do.”

  “Do you love him?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Are you in love with him?”

  “People fall in and out of love all the time. You know that.”

  “You’re right. I do. I also know that Desmond is not the man for you. We’ll talk later. But, baby, please, you’ll break his heart if you tell him now, you’ll break his loving spirit if you wait.”

  Fancy exhaled, kissed her mother’s forehead, then said, “I’ll be back.”

  Dez was waiting in her car.

  “Your mom all right?”

  “Yeah, she’s fine.”

  Barely turning out of her driveway onto Highway 1, Desmond asked, “So how soon you want to set a date?”

  “Huh?” Fancy stared at the hillside to her left and then the ocean to her right.

  “A date? When?”

  No matter how hard she tried, Fancy just couldn’t do it. She couldn’t tell Desmond she wasn’t going to marry him.

  Her cell phone chimed. Nosy Desmond had glanced at the caller ID before she had. It was Darius.

  “What does he want?” Desmond questioned like he was the police and she was telepathic.

  Fancy answered, “Hi, Darius. Is your mom okay?”

  “Better, not okay. At least she scheduled the services.”

  “When?”

  “Next week. I called to ask a favor.”

  “I’m listening,” Fancy said.

  “Tell him you’re engaged and whatever he needs get it from someone else.”

  Fancy exhaled. That was the immature Desmond she’d known for years and one of several reasons why she couldn’t marry him. No man was controlling her. Ignoring Dez, Fancy replied, “What is it?”

  “Can you meet me in Dallas tomorrow? I have to attend a custody hearing.”

  “A what?”

  “You remember I told you my son was alive?”

  “And?”

  “The hearing is tomorrow.”

  “Let me call you back in a few minutes.”

  “Please, Fancy. I need you. I’ll be waiting for your call.”

  “What the hell you got to call him back for? After the way he treated you, you shouldn’t ever speak to that jerk again.”

  Fancy remained silent, parking curbside at departures. She got out of the car, waited for Desmond to unload his luggage. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders.

  “I love you, Dez.”

  “I love you too. But—”

  Fancy interrupted. “But I can’t marry you.”

  She pressed her thumb and middle finger on opposite sides of Desmond’s engagement ring, eased the platinum and diamond ensemble over her nail, enclosed it in Desmond’s hand, got in her car, and drove away knowing that would be their last time together as a couple.

  Picking up her cell phone, Fancy text-messaged Darius, Make my arrangements. I’ll be there. She had her own motive for wanting to confront Ashlee Anderson face-to-face.

  CHAPTER 41

  Darius

  Dressed in his single buttoned-down black suit with thin beige stripes, white-collared shirt, and a black, brown, and beige tie, Darius humbly entered the courtroom with his attorney on one side and Fancy on the other.

  Fancy had packed three outfits, deciding to wear the caramel-colored skirt suit that matched his attire. Her snakeskin open-toe slip-ons showed off her curvaceous legs. Darius proudly sat next to Fancy on the last row closest to the exit while his attorney approached the bench.

  Holding Fancy’s French-manicured hand, Darius whispered, “I just want this to be over with. I sure hope they call us first.”

  “She looks pretty bad, don’t you think? Like she’s here physically but not mentally.”

  “She should look bad. How can she live with herself? Liar.”

  Squeezing Darius’s hand, Fancy said, “You have no right to judge her. But I do.”

  All righty then. Darius would let that conversation ride solo. He wasn’t surprised that Ashlee was accompanied by her father, but
he was shocked to see Ashlee’s mother.

  “Anderson versus Jones. Will all parties rise and come forward,” the judge announced, reaching for two manila folders the clerk handed her.

  Looking at Fancy, Darius said, “Come with me.”

  Fancy stared at Ashlee staring at her. Darius knew the tension was thick, and they all knew exactly why.

  “Raise your right hands. You swear to tell the truth and nothing but the truth? Respond by saying ‘I do.’”

  Almost everyone said, “I do.”

  The judge looked at Ashlee and said, “Excuse me, Ms. Anderson, I didn’t hear you.”

  Ashlee whispered, “I do.”

  “The purpose of this trial is to determine temporary custody so that the child may be placed with family until Child Protective Services completes its investigation. Looks like all interested parties are here. Ms. Anderson, we’ll hear your testimony first. Then we’ll hear from you, Mr. Williams.”

  Lawrence stood. “Your Honor, I’m representing Ms. Anderson. Darius Williams Jr. was prematurely removed from Ms. Anderson’s custody before a full and impartial investigation was initiated. She is taking medication for postpartum depression because Mr. Williams abandoned Ms. Anderson the day Darius Williams Jr. was born.”

  Darius stood, and yelled, “That’s a lie!”

  “Mr. Williams, sit down. You’ll get your opportunity to respond.”

  Darius’s attorney grabbed his forearm, pulling him into his seat.

  “Like I was saying, Mr. Williams has not seen his son, nor has he tried to contact his son, since his son was born, nor has he paid a dime in child support to Ms. Anderson. Ms. Anderson, a single mother, is the only parent the child knows. She’s fully capable of continuing her motherly duties. She’s done so all this time by herself. I’d like to call Darius Williams Sr. to the stand.”

  The judge scanned the file. “Mr. Williams, please take the stand. And remember you are under oath.”

  Darius sat to the judge’s left, focusing on Fancy, glad she’d come. Win or lose, his heart was overwhelmed with the joy that Fancy had officially fired that loser.

  Lawrence evilly stared at Darius, then asked, “Mr. Williams, how much time would you say you’ve spent with your son?”

  “I can explain—”

  Interrupting his response, the judge said, “Just answer the question.”

  “Approximately one hour.”

  Ashlee smiled, poking her tongue at him.

  Lawrence asked, “Mr. Williams, when is your son’s birthday?”

  “I can tell you the day he supposedly died.”

  The judge said, “That’s not the concern. Your son is alive. Answer the question.”

  Ashlee smiled again.

  “He was born eight months ago.”

  “Seven. No further questions, Your Honor,” Lawrence said, sitting next to Ashlee, holding her hand under the table.

  Darius’s lawyer interjected, “I’d like to question my client.”

  “You may proceed,” the judge said, tapping her pen on the folder.

  “Mr. Williams, did you or did you not receive a phone call from Ms. Anderson saying your son was dead?”

  Darius’s heart smiled with relief. “I did.”

  “And what did Ms. Anderson tell you the cause of death was?”

  “HIV complications.”

  “Did Ms. Anderson ever call to confess she’d lied?”

  “Yes, she left a message on my voice mail.”

  “Did Ms. Anderson trespass on your property, enter your home, and…” The attorney paused, looked at Ashlee, then continued. “Replace your aspirins with abortion pills, knowing that your then fiancée was impregnated with your child?”

  Lawrence stood. “This is ridiculous! My daughter, I mean, my client did not do such things.”

  The judge said, “Answer the questions, Mr. Williams.”

  Darius whispered, “Yes, yes, and yes. And correction, Fancy is my fiancée.”

  “As a result of Ms. Anderson’s actions, did your fiancée’s fetus abort?”

  Pressing his thumb and middle fingers into his eyes, Darius lowered his head and answered, “Yes.”

  “No further questions, Your Honor.”

  The judge looked at Darius and said, “You may step down. I’ll take into consideration the voice mail only if it’s dated and available. Ms. Anderson, please take the stand.”

  Slowly, Ashlee sat where Darius once was.

  Darius’s attorney continued questioning. “Ms. Anderson, did you tell Mr. Williams his son was dead?”

  Holding her head down, Ashlee answered, “Yes.”

  “Your Honor—”

  “Not now, Mr. Anderson. Have a seat.”

  “Ms. Anderson, did you trespass on Mr. Williams’s property?”

  “Yes.”

  “And before you answer my next question, I want you to know if true, you face time in prison if my client presses charges. Did you replace the aspirins in Mr. Williams’s home with abortion pills?”

  Ashlee looked in Fancy’s eyes and replied, “No, I did not.”

  “Liar!” Fancy yelled. “She’s a damn liar! You left that voice-mail message on my phone, confessing. And I know the time on the message matches the time of the outgoing call on your cell phone bill.”

  Tears streamed down Ashlee’s face.

  Darius looked at his attorney, then lied loud enough for the judge to hear, “I deleted the message.”

  “Ms. Anderson, I’m going to ask you one more time. Did you replace the aspirins in Mr. Williams’s home with abortion pills?”

  This time Ashlee remorsefully stared at Darius and replied, “No. I did not.”

  The judge said, “I’ve heard enough testimonies. I’ll take a fifteen-minute recess and return with my decision.”

  Darius hugged Fancy and said, “Please forgive me, Ladycat. We know the truth, but I don’t want my son’s visitations with his mother to be behind bars. Thanks for coming.” Darius kissed Fancy’s face from one cheek across her nose to the other side. “I love you. I love you. I need you.”

  The judge reentered the room.

  The bailiff announced, “All rise.”

  The clerk said, “Court is back in session. You may be seated.”

  “Based on the caseworker’s recommendation and the testimony given today, the court awards full custody to”—the judge’s eyes scanned from Fancy, to Darius, to Darius’s attorney, to Lawrence, and finally to Ashlee, stopped, then continued—“Mr. Darius Williams.”

  Darius leaped from his seat, hugged his attorney, picked up Fancy, spun her around.

  The judge continued, “With supervised visitation to Ms. Ashlee Anderson.”

  Quietly Ashlee asked, “Judge, may I say something?”

  “Sure, Ms. Anderson. I’ve rendered my decision, so be brief.”

  “Why isn’t that man”—Ashlee’s voice trembled as she pointed at Darius—“held accountable for his heartless actions? How can he one day say he loves me? Wants to marry me? Make love to me? Get me pregnant? Then despise me? Why can’t the system recognize I’m a woman in pain? I was a mother on the verge of losing my sanity. I carried our son. Alone and lonely. All because that man”—she said, pointing again—“who once loved me, doesn’t love me anymore. Now he shows up, and because he’s a big-time NBA player, he can walk out of this courtroom with custody of our son, when he’s only seen our son once since he was born, and all I get is more pain accompanied by some stranger supervising my visits. What about me? I’m dying inside. And now he’s going to leave here with her”—Ashlee pointed at Fancy—“and he’s going to marry her. And my son is going to grow up calling her Mommy. Judge, I’ve already lost my best friend. If I don’t get custody of my son, I have absolutely no reason to live.”

  Darius covered his face with his palms. His once-upon-a-time best friend was hurting and he was so busy with his own conquests, Fancy and his son, that he hadn’t felt her pain. At what point did Ashlee stop being
his friend? Why did he hate her? Maybe she reminded him of what his mother had done. Ashlee hadn’t been sure he was the father until after the paternity test. Why should he have wasted time with waiting to find out? If she hadn’t cheated on him, she wouldn’t have needed a test. What if he tried to make things right between them?

  The judge said, “I’m concurring on a psychiatric evaluation for you, Ms. Anderson. I empathize with you, but”—the judged looked at Fancy, then continued—“when are women going to stop allowing manipulative men to control and destroy your lives?” Then she turned to Ashlee. “Unfortunately for you, Ms. Anderson, Mr. Williams has proven himself a fit parent. The court has no grounds for denying him his parental rights. However, if in twelve months you’re emotionally stable, the court will, if you file, reconsider your case for custody. Choose a better man next time, Ms. Anderson.”

  Lawrence interrupted. “Your Honor, what about back child support?”

  “Child support was not requested in the filing. If you file, the court will review the case. Court will reconvene in fifteen minutes.” The judge banged her gavel one final time before she left.

  Lawrence sat shaking his head. What was the point of Ashlee’s mother coming to court? She hadn’t spoken one word.

  Darius stood, escorted Ashlee out of the courtroom, hugged her head to his chest, and said, “I’m sorry. Ashlee, I’m so sorry. You are my best friend. And I do love you. We’ll get through this. Together.”

  By the time Darius stopped hugging Ashlee and turned around, Fancy quietly stood next to them. “Ashlee, I need to know the truth. Why did you put those abortion pills in the medicine bottle?”

  Ashlee looked at Fancy, then at Darius, and back at Fancy and said, “I’m so sorry I did that.”

  “Thank you for being honest.” Fancy slapped Ashlee as hard as she could, then watched Ashlee fall to the floor.

  Darius grabbed Fancy’s arm. “Stop, Ladycat, she’s sick. I’m partially to blame that her mind is messed up,” he explained, helping Ashlee to her feet. “Look at it this way. She took our child. But God gave us hers. And no matter what happens, I cannot change the fact that Ashlee is the mother of my son.”