by Cydney Rax
“It’s cold-blooded how a baby mama gets done when the father passes away,” she told Varnell one morning.
“Hey, take care of your business. Right now, your daughter is the most important thing.”
The first chance they got, Alexis and Varnell paid a visit to the child support office in southwest Houston. She rode the elevator up several floors and entered a moderate-sized office filled with men and women. Alexis signed in and took a seat in the back of the room. When her name was finally called, Varnell asked if she needed him to go with her. She told him no. “Cross your fingers,” she said and walked through a security door, down a long hallway, and into a child support investigator’s office.
“Hello, Alexis. I’m Meicka. What can I do for you today?”
“My baby daddy had recently begun to pay child support. But he unexpectedly passed away.”
“Sorry to hear that.”
“What happens now?”
“What is his name and Social?”
Alexis gave her the info.
“To be honest,” Meicka told her, “once a person who pays child support dies, payments cease.”
“What?”
“Yes, that is why the father needed to take out life insurance that names your child as a beneficiary. Do you know whether that was done?”
“I don’t know. I have no idea.”
“You need to find out. Find out the name of his insurance company and give them a call. How old is your child?”
“Hayley will turn three this year.”
“And Rashad was thirty-five. It appears he’s been working for decades, so your child might be eligible for Social Security benefits. If I were you, I’d look into it.”
“I’m so confused I can’t think straight.”
“If you are able to get a copy of the death certificate and provide it to this office, that would be helpful. I’m truly sorry for your loss.”
“Lost. That’s how I feel right now.”
“The best thing that can happen is for him to have remembered to get life insurance for your daughter. You two never discussed that?”
“No. Not that I can remember.”
Meicka frowned like she wanted to say something, but she thought better of it. “Sorry. In this industry, I see so many tragic cases. So much heartache and heartbreak over young people having sex with anybody and everybody. Young women don’t even know the identity of their children’s, yes, children’s fathers. It’s a shame. But I just work here and I can’t run people’s lives.”
Alexis slumped in her chair. Her thoughts drowned out Meicka’s ramblings. Somehow she’d have to get some money. No way should Nicole, the black widow, be allowed to benefit from another person’s sorrow.
Alexis returned to the lobby, motioned at Varnell, and he followed her back to the first floor. She asked him if she could be excused.
When she dialed Nicole’s number, she was surprised that the woman answered.
“Hello, Alexis.”
“Oh, I’m listed in your address book?”
“You sure are.”
“Alrighty. Um, Nicole, I’m calling you because I have an important business matter to discuss.”
“Okay, what is it?”
“Do you know if Rashad ever discussed life insurance policies for the kids? I’m sure you’ve already looked into it.”
“I really can’t say, Alexis.”
“You can’t or you won’t?”
“I’m, like, not really feeling this conversation, to be honest. I don’t remember you ever sending me any condolences. You avoided me at the funeral. I invited you to the house following the burial but you never responded. Did not show up. And now you have the nerve to call me asking about money?”
Alexis was dumbfounded. Every word that Nicole said was true, but she was shocked that those details would be so important to her right then.
“I-I was in a bad way, Nicole.”
“Are you telling me that you were still in love with my husband?”
Alexis said nothing.
“I kind of figured you were, and that’s why you always acted so salty toward me once he and I hooked up.”
“No, you’re wrong.”
“I think I’m right. A woman who loses a man will hardly ever admit that she still loved him. She’s too proud to admit that. And he’s a constant reminder of what she’s lost.”
“Nicole, wait a second. Why are you talking like this? You do not sound like a mourning widow. I’m starting to believe that—”
“That what?”
“Did you have anything to do with Rashad’s murder?” she asked.
“What? Did you see me arrested for his murder?”
“No. Eddison was. And everybody and their mama knows that man wouldn’t hurt a soul.”
“No one knows what anybody would do. I don’t care what they look like.”
A cold chill ran through Alexis’s veins. “Since you know so much, Nicole, you might want to learn that I know a lot, too. Your husband confided in me. All the time.”
“He did not.”
“Yes, he did. He told me the shit you were doing that pissed him off. He told me a lot of personal info about you. And I can see why you’d be angry enough at him to blow his head off.”
Alexis suddenly wanted to see Nicole’s eyes, look deep into them to see if they’d betray her secrets.
“Nicole, I don’t know what happened that night when Rashad got killed, but baby mama or not, I swear to God, if you did anything to cause that man to die, I will personally see to it that you get fucked up. I mean that.”
When Alexis did not get a response, she was so angry that she ended the call. And the conversation replayed in her head for days.
* * *
When it was determined that Eddison Osborne had nothing to do with Rashad’s murder, he was released from jail and issued a halfhearted apology. It was a case of circumstantial evidence. Eddison had a flaky alibi on the night of Rashad’s murder and some people felt that he was one of Rashad’s enemies. None of it turned out to be true, and he had to be let go.
Kiara came downtown to pick up Eddison. She sat around for hours and the wait was excruciating. But finally he was processed then released.
Kiara looked at the new beard he’d grown and smiled.
“You’re looking really good to me right now,” she said.
“I’m glad that you can see some type of good still in me.”
“Hold on. I knew they arrested the wrong person, Eddison.”
“Did you?”
“Of course.”
“But you know what? The little good I have done is now ruined. The publicity from this case has caused all kinds of problems.”
“Right. It’s a shame that people were protesting outside of your home. Some demanded that you lose your job. I’m so sorry that you had to go through all of this.”
He said nothing, his jaw rigid with anger. Kiara wanted to hold his hand, but it seemed he wasn’t in the mood when she attempted to touch him. They left the jailhouse together and she hurried along the sidewalk far ahead of him.
“Wait, Kiara, hold up. I want you to walk by my side, not far away from me.”
“That’s what I want to hear from you,” she said. “Because, honestly, Eddy, I am here. I’ve already lost my child’s father, and I refuse to lose you, too.”
“I know, love. I hate that you had to go through all of this.”
They openly hugged. He smelled like sweat, but she did not care. She just wanted to feel the connection again that she’d once enjoyed with this man.
“Eddison, we have to talk. I mean, really talk, with no secrets between us. If you want to tell me everything you went through in there, go right ahead. But I feel there’s also something else you need to talk to me about.”
“What is it?”
“Long ago Rashad kept insisting that you’re—”
“On the down low?”
She nodded.
“Do you believ
e him, Kiara?”
“I . . . um.”
“You do believe him.” Eddison’s voice was filled with sorrow. She could have kicked herself. This was not the reconciliation she hoped to have with him.
“Babe, wait a minute. Please don’t accuse me of believing what Rashad said. I knew that he could have been making it up, because it’s no secret that he wanted us to still be a family. But I can’t help that. I did not try to encourage him. I was with you, Eddy, happily with you. Do you believe me?”
It took him a long time to answer. “I’ve always believed you, Kiara.”
She sank in his arms, grateful that faith and trust and love had been restored.
“I’m glad we had this talk.”
“Me too,” he stated. “But there is one other thing that I’ve hidden from you, Kiara.”
Her heart nearly stopped. “Go on please. Just tell me.”
“There’s one thing that Rashad told you that really was the truth.” He paused. “Yes, Rashad saw me at the gay bar that night.”
Suddenly her joy disappeared. “So, Eddy, you lied to me about being there? Are you serious? You had me thinking one thing when it was really another?”
“Kiara, please—”
She felt foolish and wanted to leave him right there in the parking lot.
“What the fuck were you doing there, Eddy? Straight men don’t visit gay bars.”
“Some do.”
“But what are you?”
“I’m straight, babe. I was there to support my brother.”
“What?”
“I-I have a brother. His name is Desmond. He wanted to break the news to me that night that he was coming out. He wrestled with his decision. He didn’t know how the family would respond. He was contemplating suicide. I had to talk him out of it. He suggested that I go in there with him. And I did. I-I care about him, and everything was so—”
Her cheeks reddened. She hated herself for overreacting and didn’t want him to think she was unhinged. “Oh, wow. That’s deep, Eddy. You could have told me.”
“I could have, but I didn’t. Not back then. Desmond coming out wasn’t anything I ever expected. So I was still struggling with it myself. I wanted to be the peacemaker for my family. I wanted to be there for my brother. And the whole thing forced me to deal with all sorts of feelings that I didn’t know I had. So, I’m sorry I shut you out.”
She was glad that he finally told her what was up, but she still had more questions.
“Eddy, um, I want you to be honest with me.”
“Alright.”
“Have you ever slept with another man?”
“No.”
“Have you ever thought about sleeping with another man?”
He looked horrified. “Hell no.”
“Alright, I just wanted to be sure.”
He studied Kiara then replied, “Let me ask you some questions. Have you ever slept with a woman?”
“No, I haven’t.”
“Have you ever wondered what it would be like to sleep with a woman? Do you watch lesbian porn?”
“No, and no, and let me throw in a third no in case you have any more dumb questions.” She sighed and wearily told him, “Eddison Osborne, you know what I love. I’m your woman. You’ve been there for me. Let me be there for you, too.”
“I’m glad to hear all of this; glad we talked,” he said. “I love you more than ever, Kiara. Now, let’s go home.”
She quickly nodded and they got in the car and drove away. Far away to better days.
* * *
It had been four weeks since Rashad had been killed. After Eddison was no longer a suspect, the authorities appealed to the public for help. They released surveillance video that spotted a vehicle leaving the scene around the time when Rashad was killed. And a five-thousand-dollar reward was offered for any tips that led to the arrest of his killer. Lots of tips were received, but none proved to be helpful.
It was quickly determined that Rashad did not take his own life. And that was a winning moment for Nicole, for if he had committed suicide, she would have been denied any insurance money. Nicole hadn’t been contacted by the police for further questioning. And she wanted to forget everything that happened and move on with her life.
On that Friday morning, she received a phone call from a number that popped up as Allstate on her work phone. Excellent! This was the call she’d been waiting for.
“Hello,” she said in a breathless voice.
“Hi, Mrs. Eason. It’s me, Mrs. Canterbury. Remember, I’m the agent with the insurance company?”
“Oh, I could never forget you. How are you doing today, ma’am?”
“I’m excited,” she said in her little-old-lady, raspy voice. “This is the last day of work for me before I go on a twenty-three-day cruise on the Silver Explorer.”
“Oh, really? Where are you going?” Nicole asked even though she didn’t care one bit.
“My husband, Wally, and I will be visiting Cape Town. That’s in South Africa, you know.”
“I had no idea.”
“And we’ll be traveling along the Indian Ocean. It’s been a lifelong dream for us. Let’s see, we’ll go to Dakar and Senegal. We might even see a voodoo priestess. We had to save up a lot of money to afford this trip.”
“Sounds exciting. Speaking of money, did you call me to talk about my life insurance check?”
“Oh, yes, Mrs. Eason. I’m so sorry. I’m so excited about my trip that I forgot all about telling you that you should meet me at my office today. I have an opening at four thirty. So, are you able to make it?”
“Sure,” Nicole said in a chirping voice. “I get off at three, so I can definitely meet you by four thirty.” She paused. “Can you tell me right now how much the payout is?”
“Yes, let me grab the check.”
Mrs. Canterbury made a lot of noise that sounded like she was shuffling through some papers. It took so long that Nicole started biting her fingernails. What was taking the old lady so long?
It took five minutes before the woman picked up her phone again. “Hello?” she said. “Are you still there?”
Will you just get with it, lady? I want my damn money.
“Yes, ma’am. I’m still here. How much?”
“The check is for—” Then the line went dead.
“What the hell?” Nicole scrambled to call Mrs. Canterbury back, but the number she dialed was busy.
“A busy tone? How the hell does she get a busy tone?”
Nicole tried to call the woman back three more times before giving up. “I’ll just see the little old scatterbrained lady at four thirty. Bitch better have my money.”
For the rest of the workday, Nicole envisioned herself getting her hands on the check. It was the money that Rashad had left to her as his widow. She wanted to laugh as she sat at her desk and worked, but a laughing widow would present the wrong image. No one yet knew who killed Rashad, so Nicole had to keep boxes of tissue on her desk so she could wipe her eyes every few minutes.
But when she was alone with her thoughts, she imagined how she’d spend her fortune. Paying off her Jeep and buying herself a Lexus. Tossing out her current clothes and getting a brand new wardrobe, something she’d been dying to do for a while. Emmy needed some new furniture and clothes. And it was way past time for them to move out of her apartment. Next time she moved she wanted to handpick a home big enough for herself, Emmy, and Ajalon to comfortably live in.
Nicole picked up her phone and called Ajalon. “Hey, baby! What are you doing?”
“I’m working. Working my ass off.”
“Good, I’m glad. That’s what I like to hear.”
“What’s up with you?”
“I-I have to go to . . .” Then her voice drifted off.
“Huh? What did you say, Nicole?”
“I’ll tell you about it later. Too many ears are around here.”
“Alright, call me later.”
“Will do. Love you.”
Nicole really wished things had never come to this. She was sad that Rashad was dead. But he got what he had coming to him. He’d treated her with such disrespect that she could no longer coexist on the same planet with him. And now she was in a daze knowing that she could financially capitalize from being married to the man.
“Thanks, Rashad,” she whispered. “You put me through pure hell, but it’s going to pay off soon.” Nicole raced home and changed into a different, more conservative outfit. She called the day care center and told Wendy that she’d be picking up Emmy later that day.
At four thirty sharp, Nicole arrived at the insurance office. She stepped through the doorway. The receptionist desk was empty. Her heart panicked. Did Mrs. Canterbury forget about their appointment?
“Hello?” she cried.
No one responded.
Nicole went past the receptionist desk and walked about the suite of offices, looking inside each open door until she heard a sound coming from one of the rooms. She stepped through another doorway.
There was the little old lady, staring at her computer monitor and smiling.
“Hey, Mrs. Canterbury.”
“Oh, you scared me. You are Nicole Eason?”
“Yes. I’m here to . . . to see you.”
“Yes, my dear. Have a seat.”
Nicole sat on the edge of her chair. She pretended like she didn’t just catch the woman looking at the cruise line Web site. She engaged Mrs. Canterbury in general conversation to make her feel at ease. And for the next fifteen minutes the two women looked over the insurance policy papers.
It was 4:50 by the time the old woman finished explaining the particulars. She picked up the check. “First of all, I want to say I am so sorry about the loss of your husband. It’s so sad that you two weren’t married that long. But at least he was diligent enough to think about you and your child and leave you with a nice policy. That’s a good man for you.”
“Yes, Rashad was something else.”
“Here it is, Mrs. Eason.”
Nicole looked at the check. It was a good amount of money, and her eyes glazed over as she thought about all the things she could buy with that type of cash.
