Queen Divas

by De'nesha Diamond

  “I’m sure that I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Ruby Cove ringing a bell? You massacred those people for shooting up your wife’s funeral. Not smart.”

  “That sounds like an interesting theory. Too bad it’s not true.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Tell it to the judge. All I need is your coming perp-walk in front of the camera and then I don’t care what kind of hell they toss you into.”

  “Tired of your incompetence being splashed in the headlines every day? I don’t blame you.”

  That shit strikes a nerve. “You’re a regular comedian, aren’t you?”

  “It doesn’t take a comedian to recognize that you and your department are a joke.”

  “Does that include your daughter?”

  He glares.

  I grin for having found his kryptonite. “Ah. You probably didn’t think I knew about that.”

  “She told you?”

  “Nope. I have my sources.”

  “If it makes any difference, Hydeya doesn’t claim me. She kind of views me as just being a sperm donor.”

  “Please spare me the family drama details. I really don’t have the energy to pretend that I give a shit.”

  “Always was the cop with a heart of gold.”

  “And you’re the dick that always has to fuck every chick in a fifty mile radius. You being a sperm donor doesn’t surprise me. God knows how many damn kids you got running around the whole country.”

  “Another interesting theory that still doesn’t explain why I’ve never fucked you—no matter how hard you tried back in the day.”

  “You’re delusional. All I’m thinking about is slapping your ass back in jail.”

  “Your only problem is my alibi.”

  There is something about the way he’s gloating right now that makes me pause. “What alibi?”

  “I have an alibi. I’m surprised my daughter hasn’t told you, but I was with her at the time of the Ruby Cove massacre.”

  “What?”

  “She came to my house pretty upset about you having put her on administrative leave. She may not want to say this, but she was pretty lit that night. I was surprised that she jumped up and went running to the crime scene after you called. But then again, that’s my girl—dedicated to that bullshit badge.”

  My heart stops. “You were with Captain Hawkins that night?”

  My hastiness in calling for a new press conference for King Isaac’s perp-walk is now biting me on the ass. I even called James so that he could be there to claim credit for the department’s progress. We are hoping that it will stop his slide in the polls.

  “What’s the matter, Chief? You don’t look too good.”

  “Fuck you.” I spin on my heels and march out. I can barely see straight as I march back out into the ER in search of Captain Hawkins. I could strangle that woman with my bare hands. When I burst into the room that Captain Hawkins was in a few minutes ago, I’m stunned to find the room empty. “The fuck?” I turn and run smack into a nurse who is leading another patient to the room. “Where is she?” I snap.

  “Who?” the nurse asks, confused.

  “Captain Hawkins. She was just in here.”

  “Oh. She left.”

  “I can see that. Never mind.” I stomp around her and then spot Fowler and Hendrix hugged up near the entrance. “Where the fuck is she?” I demand.

  Fowler coolly looks up and then jerks almost to attention when he recognizes me. “I’m sorry, Chief. Where is who?”

  “Who else? Captain Hawkins. I have a bone to pick with her.”

  “She left, Chief.”

  Deep breath. “I gathered that. Did she say where she’s going?”

  Fowler shakes his head. “Knowing the captain, she’s probably on her way back to the office, despite getting some rather interesting news.”

  Another deep breath. “What interesting news?” I ask.

  “According to the doc, Captain Hawkins is expecting a little bambino.”

  “She’s pregnant?”

  Fowler nods, grinning.

  I swear, men are the worst gossipers.

  “Good for her. But tell me”—I change up the subject—“did Captain Hawkins happen to mention that she is King Isaac’s alibi for the night of the Ruby Cove massacre?”

  Fowler’s smile drops. “What?”

  “So it’s a surprise to you, too?” I cross my arms in hopes that it will prevent me from hitting something. “This shit is developing into one big mess, and by God I want some damn answers.” I march off to the parking deck, and to my surprise I find Hawkins there. “Hawkins!”

  The captain’s head snaps up, and when she spots me she doesn’t bother to hide her annoyance. Her disrespect annoys me, but yet at the same time, Hawkins always being who she is, is something to be admired—but not today.

  “What is this shit I hear from your daddy that he was with you at the time of the Ruby Cove massacre?” I challenge her head-on.

  “What?”

  “That’s what he just told me—and what he’ll tell the cameras if we arrest him. Is that shit true? And if so, when the fuck were you going to tell me? Before or after I embarrass myself on national television?”

  “I . . . I can’t deal with this right now.” She shakes her head and then attempts to turn away from the conversation.

  I do something that I’ve never done and grab her shoulder and spin her back around. “You better make time for this. We have a city fucking falling down all around us and my fucking captain of police is the fucking daughter of the city’s most notorious gangster. How the fuck do you think that’s going to play when it gets out?”

  “Ha.” She rolls her eyes. “Did Fowler tell you that, too?”

  “Don’t worry about what the fuck he told me. Is the shit true?”

  “The truth is complicated,” she says, as if that’s an answer.

  “It’s not that fucking complicated. Either you have half of his DNA or not! Plus, he’s telling me that you were drunk that night. Is that true? Did you show up at my crime scene drunk?”

  “Are you fucking kidding me? You called—I showed up and did my fucking job.”

  “Drunk?”

  “I was not drunk,” she insists.

  For the first time, I don’t believe her.

  Hawkins sighs and tries again. “I was drinking that night before you called. I did go to Isaac’s house that night. Yes. He was home when I got there, but then he locked me in a room and left.” She takes a deeper breath. “There were weapons in the house when I got there and they were gone when I left.”

  “So Isaac could very well be our suspect?”

  Hawkins hesitates but then nods.

  My blood pressure lowers. “So it’s your word against his,” I say, nodding. “Okay. I think I can deal with that. I need a few minutes to think of what our next play is going to be.”

  “Are you charging him?” she asks.

  “You’re damn right, I’m charging him. No offense—but your daddy is an asshole.”

  Hawkins shrugs. “He has his moments.”

  I reach into my pocket and remove a cigarette. I need it badly. Once I plop one into my mouth, I offer the packet to Hawkins. She waves it off. “Oh yeah. I forgot. You’re pregnant. Congrats.”

  “Damn. Whatever happened to doctor/patient confidentiality?”

  “Fowler told me.” I light my cigarette and tug in my first drag.

  “Jeez. That man really can’t hold water.”

  I have to agree with her on that. “Yeah. He’s an . . . odd one.” I spin around to lean my butt against the hood of Hawkins’s car. When I do, I catch Fowler again. This time by the hospital’s entrance, huddled up with James, and I have a bad feeling in my gut. What the fuck are they up to now?

  Decisions

  40

  Ta’Shara

  The room is so quiet that I can hear a fly land on the wall. It’s been seven days and nothing has changed. Olivia keeps a death grip on
my hand while she sobs during the doctor’s running list of hypotheses of why I still can’t feel my legs. My hysteria has long passed, though my grief remains profound. I’m working on acceptance. I’ll never walk again.

  I look down at my legs with a sense of betrayal. Think again: Why should they be any different? The closest people to me have betrayed me, so why not my own body?

  “I’m sorry, Ms. Murphy,” the doctor finishes. “I wish that I could give you better news, but I want you to know that there are a lot of excellent rehab facilities here in Memphis. I don’t mind telling you that I’ve seen a lot of miracles in my time. There’s a chance that this is all temporary.”

  “I understand, Doctor.” I flash him a smile to make him feel better. I know that delivering this kind of news is equally hard on the professionals. With nothing else to add, he pats me on the shoulder and wishes me well.

  Reggie Senior offers handkerchiefs to his wife, Mary, and Olivia. The old-fashioned kind. The ones with his initial embroidered at the bottom. His son used to carry those things around too.

  “We’ll get you the best doctors and physical therapists, no matter where you decide to go,” he assures me.

  Sniffling, Olivia bobs her head. “That’s right, baby. This isn’t a death sentence. There are plenty of paraplegics who live very full lives. This is not a roadblock.”

  I nod and smile. She means well. “Can one of you still take me to go see Lucifer?”

  “Of course. Of course.” Reggie scrambles around for the hospital wheelchair he’d rolled in here earlier and brings it over to the bed. Once the wheels are locked, he scoops me up.

  While I’m still suspended in his arms, the door bursts open and Mack and Romil strut inside with bundles of cheap carnations.

  “WHERE IS OUR GIRL AT? Oh.” Mack pulls up short when she notices Reggie and Olivia. “Sorry. We didn’t know that you had company.”

  A smile balloons across my face at seeing my friends. I didn’t realize how much I missed and needed to see them until this very moment. “Hey, Mack, Romil. Y’all finally came to see me, huh?”

  My girls ignore my question, but stare at the way Reggie is settling me into the wheelchair. “Oh. You two haven’t met. Um . . .” What the hell do I call them?

  “Hi,” Reggie says, straightening back up. “I’m Reggie. Ta’Shara’s grandfather.”

  Grandfather? My heart melts. I hadn’t expected him to do that.

  “And I’m Olivia. Her grandmother . . . on her mother’s side.” She walks over to the girls and offers them her hand.

  “Uh-huh. It’s nice to meet you, ma’am,” Mack says, rustling the flowers around in her arm in order to accept Olivia’s hand. “Mackenzie. My friends call me Mack.”

  “Mackenzie. What a lovely name.” Olivia smiles, her red eyes lightening. She turns her attention to Romil and the girl stumbles all over her tongue.

  “H-hey, um. Romil.”

  “Romil?” Olivia repeats to make sure that she got it right.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Well. That’s a lovely name, too. I’m pleased to meet you young ladies. Are you friends of Ta’Shara’s from school?”

  The three of us laugh and the adults exchange confused smiles.

  “No . . . Grandma. Um. Mack and Romil here are just friends of mine from around the way over off Ruby Cove.”

  “Yes. That’s right,” Mack agrees. “I’ve been out of high school for a little while.”

  “Oh.” Olivia lowers her hand as her smile fades. “Are you two in a gang?”

  Mack’s and Romil’s eyes buck, even though she asked politely.

  “C’mon, Olivia. What kind of question is that?” I ask, rescuing my friends.

  “A simple one,” Olivia says. Her voice has lost its previous warmth. “And, I may add, it’s a yes-or-no question.” She stares at my girls, waiting for an answer.

  “Why. Yes, ma’am. We are. We’re proud Vice Lord Flowers. All three of us.”

  Aww, shit. My entire face burns as Reggie, Mary, and Olivia’s shocked and disappointed gazes zoom to me. “Um, can you please give us a few minutes alone?” I ask my grandparents.

  The looks on their faces say hell no, but somehow they manage to get their mouths to say, “Sure. Of course.”

  “Actually, I could use some coffee,” Olivia adds, grabbing her purse from the chair next to my bed.

  “We’ll be back in a few minutes,” Reggie says with a sigh before escorting Olivia and Mary past Mack and Romil. Once they leave the room, Romil rolls her eyes and Mack jabs a fist onto the side of her waist.

  “So how far are those sticks rammed up their asses?”

  “Mack, be cool. That’s not fuckin’ called for,” I say.

  “Not called for? She’s the one who started it,” Mack spits out. “ ‘Are you two in a gang?’” she says, mimicking Olivia’s haughtiness perfectly. “Really? She’s lucky her old ass is your grandma or she would’ve gotten cursed the fuck out.”

  “Mack,” I snap.

  “What?”

  “I said chill out on that shit. Don’t you have any damn home training?”

  I know she wants to clap back, but apparently she realizes that she is, in fact, in the wrong.

  “All right, girl. Whatever.” She plops her wrapped carnations down next to the vase of roses that Reggie brought me. “What I want to know is how are you holding up?”

  “I, uh, fine,” I lie, tugging at the blanket wrapped around my legs. “I’m just taking shit one day at a time.”

  Mack bobs her head in understanding, but her laserlike gaze zooms in on how I’m tugging at the blanket.

  I stop.

  Romil steps forward and crosses her arms. “They aren’t your real grandparents, are they?”

  I shake my head. “No. There were my foster parents’ parents. I guess since Tracee and Reggie told everyone that they planned to adopt me that . . . I don’t know. They still view me as being part of the family.”

  “Aww. That’s sweet.” Mack’s voice drips with sarcasm. “I guess that means that you’re no longer our little orphan Annie?”

  I frown. “You’re in a foul mood.”

  She shrugs. “There’s a lot of foul shit going around. But that doesn’t mean that I’m not thrilled to see you up and about. You lost a lot of damn blood that night . . . and of course, we lost Dime.”

  “Yeah. I heard.” I drop my gaze again; pull at a loose string in the blanket. “Dime was a cool chick.”

  We fall silent. None of us really wants to relive the night of that massacre.

  “Have you gone to visit Lucifer yet?” Romil asks. “We were thinking about swinging by her room after we visit you.”

  “No. But I was actually about to do that when you guys turned up.”

  “Well then, let’s all go together. Who knows? Maybe our positive vibes will get her to wake up.”

  “Is that what you think you’re emitting? Positive vibes?” I ask.

  Mack laughs. “All right. I deserved that one. I’ll be better by the time we get to her room.” She rushes to my wheelchair and unlocks the wheels. “Are you ready to roll, speed racer?” She doesn’t bother to wait for an answer before she takes off and I have to grip the arms in fear of her crashing me into something.

  Once I’m out of my room, Mack terrorizes the halls by racing me around doctors, nurses, other patients, and roaming visitors. By the time we reach Willow’s floor, I’m smiling and laughing at Mack’s antics.

  The mood dissipates when we push our way to into Willow’s room.

  My gaze takes in Willow’s shaved and bandaged head and even her murky skin color. If I were to be honest with myself, I’d say that Lucifer looks like she already has one foot in the grave. No doubt the two people at her side notice this, too. She no longer looks like the woman I spent the last couple of months hating, the woman who threatened my and Profit’s relationship. She’s just Willow Washington, clinging to life.

  A woman who looks like an older and
stockier version of Lucifer, turns and smiles. “Oh, look, Willow. Some more friends of yours have come to see you.”

  From the other side of the bed, Fat Ace moans and then slowly lifts his head from Willow’s lap.

  My gut churns at seeing his hideous condition. He was never a handsome man, but his scarred and burned face makes him look demonic. At the same time, my heart goes out to him. He has to be taking all of this incredibly hard.

  “Ta’Shara,” he says when his one good eye focuses in on me.

  He releases Willow’s hand, climbs out of his seat, and strolls straight over to me. “I can’t thank you enough for doing all that you did to save Willow and my son from that crazy bitch Shariffa.” He reaches down and takes my hand. “If there’s anything that I can do for you, and I mean anything, don’t hesitate to let me know. You got that?”

  “I got it,” I say as my eyes fill with tears.

  Fat Ace releases my hand and then pulls his tall frame up. “Don’t worry. Willow is going to pull through this,” he assures me. “The doctors did an occlusion. That means they stopped the blood flow leading to the brain aneurysm and then they, um, did this bypass by grafting some blood vessels from her leg so that it feeds the damaged artery.”

  I nod, listening. He sounds like he’s knowledgeable about all the procedures. But I wonder how much sleep he’s had, and how much Lucifer’s mother has had. Neither of them looks like they’re faring much better than the patient.

  Everyone is quiet for a few seconds. Our eyes are on Lucifer.

  “Have you seen the baby yet?” Lucifer’s mother asks suddenly.

  “No, ma’am,” I tell her. “But I will.”

  “He’s a precious little thing. A miracle, really,” she adds. “Isn’t he, Mason?”

  Fat Ace nods, though he looks as if he’s barely keeping his shit together.

  I do more smiling and nodding.

  “Excuse me,” Fat Ace says, maneuvering around me. “I’m going to step out for a minute.” He jets for the door before a tear falls in front of us.

  We watch him leave.

  “I swear, I never realized how much he loves her before all of this,” Lucifer’s mom says, sniffling. “But I understand what he’s going through. I lost Willow’s father up in this hospital. Then a few months ago, we lost her brother and . . . well, someone very close and dear to my heart.” She shakes her head while she’s clearly lost in her own memories. “This world is so cruel. It doesn’t give a damn about anybody . . . and I’ve never been a strong woman.” Her own tears crawl down her tired face.