by Pat Tucker
All I could think as Yesterday rambled on about a magazine spread she had seen, was that there had to be something better around the corner for me. Why would God allow me to live in a real-life hell right here on earth?
“…I’m serious. If I was you, everywhere I went, everybody would know I helped that nucca get to where he is today. Then when he got his big break, he dumped me after all I had done for him. You better than me, because I’d make sure anyone who would listen would hear my side of the story.”
Yesterday worked my very last nerve. I hated Cooper for what he had done to me, but if I thought talking about it would in any way tarnish this new fancy life he had going, I probably would discuss it from sunup until no one else wanted to listen. But I knew it wouldn’t. Or so I thought.
“You know those tabloid shows pay like thousands for dirt on celebrities.”
“Nobody wants to hear about Cooper’s tired self,” I said.
Yesterday sucked her teeth.
“You need to get with it. Coop is haute right now. You kid yourself thinking nobody would want to hear some of his dirt. Umph. I know better!”
Was it possible that for once Yesterday knew what she was talking about? I didn’t want to spend lots of time or energy thinking about him or even what others may have thought about him.
“Felicia, you know he’s nominated for like three Grammys, right?”
Three? I thought I’d heard something about a nomination, but honestly, when anything about him came on TV or even the radio, that was a sign for me to find something else to do.
Who in the hell would pay thousands for dirt on my worthless ex-husband? As quickly as curiosity crept into my mind, I shook the thoughts away.
When my cell phone rang, I glanced down at the screen and cringed at the 866 number that I knew for certain was a bill collector’s.
I was eating out only because Yesterday had agreed to treat to get me out of the apartment. Between the bills, and my overdrawn bank account, I needed to do something—and fast.
Chapter Two
The TV was usually on when I got ready for work, and today was no exception. But on this morning, when I turned on the local Fox station, what I saw made my knees nearly give way; I had to grab the wall to balance myself.
A roll of perspiration traveled from the nape of my neck down the middle of my back.
The newspeople were going on about Cooper and his Grammy nominations. In addition, they were talking about a local concert he was having at the Arena theater with Joe and Ginuwine.
I rolled my eyes hard.
When had he become that big? I used to like Ginuwine and Joe. Why in the world would they be doing a concert with Coop? I was baffled, but the real stunner came when they cut to a reporter who was out in the field.
My hope was that they’d move on to a different topic. Hadn’t someone died during a robbery or a drag race? Where was the real news when we needed it? Why was Cooper receiving so much coverage?
“Yes, Jose, we are about to go inside Coop’s swanky University Place house, where he and his wife make what they call ‘magical music’ together. We’re told they often get inspiration right behind these doors.”
The large wooden doors were fancy beyond belief. I wondered how much they cost.
The reporter walked up to the Spanish-inspired home that sat on a large piece of land with a dramatic fountain and gazebo in the circular cobblestone driveway.
My head started to spin.
The reporter rang the doorbell, and a loud, mystical-sounding chime rang out. A few seconds later, the door swung open, and Evelyn’s gummy smile filled the camera lens. Time had done nothing to help minimize the hatred I felt for her. It was still real and very raw. If I could have gotten away with it, I would have killed her and not felt an ounce of guilt. As a matter of fact, it might have been worth the case I’d catch if I got caught.
“Good morning, we’ve been expecting you,” she said and flashed another fake grin. She was ugly.
Cooper had left me for that mud-dog. But what bothered me more than the sheer hatred I felt for Evelyn, whom knew he was married when she’d moved in on him, was the fortress that the happy couple now called home.
The reporter walked into a brightly lit foyer. Just above her head, a crystal chandelier hung, and rows of skylights could be seen for miles ahead.
“This house is absolutely gorgeous,” the reporter said as she looked around in wonderment.
Evelyn used her arm to make a sweeping motion. “We are truly blessed.”
I wanted to vomit.
How could Coop afford such luxury? Was I really that disconnected from reality? When had he become a star of this magnitude?
My phone rang. I started to ignore it because I was completely enthralled by the tour of Coop’s house. The phone stopped ringing just as I reached for it.
That allowed my focus to return to the TV. I watched as they walked down a hallway with the walls adorned with pictures of Coop, Evelyn, and my son. Their photos alluded to a life of sunshine, smiles, and riches.
As if the cameraman could read my thoughts, he tilted across the rows of family pictures. There were images on beaches, in Atlantic City, and even one with what looked like the Eiffel Tower in the background. There were times I could barely afford food, and they were living large?
My life had been snatched from me before I could live it.
When my phone rang again, I couldn’t pull my eyes away from the TV screen, but I answered anyway.
“OHMYGOD! Felicia! Are you watching Fox? Guuurrrl, they are inside Coop’s house! Jesus! I didn’t know he had it like that! C’mon, please, you gotta turn it on; put your TV on Channel 26, girl! Now!”
Yesterday sounded possessed. Her voice was loud and bursting with excitement. She sounded like she might have had an aneurysm.
I held the phone, my eyes glued to the screen as Yesterday screamed in my ear. Her bubbly excitement was nearly too much for me to handle.
“This is one of our favorite rooms in the entire house,” Evelyn boasted on the TV screen.
The camera did a quick pan of the vast room, then focused back on the two women. The reporter ooohed and aaahed at every turn.
Despite the envy I felt eating away at my heart, there was no denying, the room was breathtaking. The décor was done in cream with cherrywood panels that outlined mini-balconies on the upper level. The open space made the room appear larger than it probably was, but it worked. It looked comfy and inviting.
“Girl, you see that?” Yesterday asked.
I felt sick as the reporter went on and on about the custom tiles and the wood used for the panels.
“Look, Yesterday, I need to go; that’s my other line,” I lied.
“Okay, but you gotta call me back, so we can talk about this later.”
Why would I want to talk any more about Coop’s house, his new life, and everything else that I clearly did not have? I just needed to get off the phone with Yesterday; she didn’t get it.
She didn’t get that this was supposed to be my life with Cooper. When we were together, he didn’t have a dime to his name; all he had was a dream. Before we’d moved into the apartment, we’d stayed with my mother. I’d had the vision for our future. I was the machine behind his powerful voice, and I’d laid the groundwork for his current success. There were times when I had to convince him that success was within reach, and it really was attainable.
But no one ever wanted to hear about that. Now that his star was shining brightly, people only remembered their encounters with him. They didn’t remember what it had taken to get him where he was today.
Although I ended the call with Yesterday, I didn’t put the phone down. I watched, seething with envy as the reporter followed Evelyn out to one of the most incredible outdoor kitchens I had ever seen. Their backyard was massive, with a waterfall,
a pool, and a Jacuzzi.
I dialed the number to my day job at the processing center, where we handled orders from Amazon.com.
“Hi, this is Felicia. I can’t come in today. I don’t feel so hot.”
My supervisor was cool; never asked too many questions. She told me to take as much time as I needed and feel better soon. My illness might not have been physical, but I felt awful.
Watching them show off Coop’s incredible new house had literally made me sick.
Chapter Three
Being home during a workday was like a form of torture. Daytime TV sucked. I watched the morning talk shows after the news went off, but I kept expecting The View to announce Cooper as their next guest. So, I couldn’t focus. Someone had gone and flipped my world upside down by making all of his dreams, the very ones I’d planted, come true.
How had I missed out on his sudden rise to the top? I’d checked out for a while after he’d left me destitute, but I didn’t think I had missed that much. This was such a sick joke; it had to be.
Tired of TV and unable to call anyone, because most people are at work during the day and can’t talk on the phone, I stretched out on the sofa. My mind wouldn’t allow me to sleep; it raced with thoughts of my early days with Cooper. We were newly married, still young and in love with unrealistic thoughts of what the future might hold.
“Baby, you got more talent in your pinky fingernail than Usher. You will get your shot.”
Cooper’s light eyes had locked on mine, but I could tell he didn’t believe the words that had come out of my mouth. I believed in him and his talents. I wanted to build him up and let him know that I believed in his potential, despite where we were currently. We were young; we had lots of time.
“That’s bullshit, Licia. You been saying that for two years now, and here we are, still sleeping in your mama’s damn garage.”
Coop turned his massive back to me, and I felt like a mound of warm shit. He was right; I had been making promises from the day I had decided to manage his career. Who knew music management would be this hard?
I started to rub his shoulders. My touch was light and feathery because I couldn’t be sure how upset he was, and I didn’t want him to explode. He was capable of the unexpected with no warning.
“The mayor’s office didn’t say no, but we need to be patient. I know you’re tired of being at Milan’s, but for now, that’s our only paying gig, Babe, so I need you to be patient. Can you do that for me?”
By then I had gone from soft touches to strong kneading in his shoulder blades.
When I heard the deep groans escape his lips, I knew I was making progress. I just needed his mind to cooperate.
“Ain’t this the second year you tried with the city?” Coop asked.
“Yeah, but I gotta keep asking. I can’t quit just because I got a no.”
Success took more than talent, and Coop didn’t understand that. He felt like his talent and good looks should be more than enough to propel him to superstar status. He thought he was the only good-looking man with a great singing voice.
I eased my hands up to his neck and applied a little more pressure.
“Licia, I’m getting tired of this shit. After that fight broke out last weekend, it’s hard to believe you booked me there again.”
Everything Coop said was true. I shouldn’t have agreed to come back to the club, but the truth was, if we dropped that weekly club gig, we’d be worse off than he could imagine. Once the original agreement expired, and I had nothing better, I jumped at the chance to renew.
“Baby, I sent them a list of demands and told them I wasn’t putting up with any of that drunken bullshit.”
He swung his head in my direction.
“You told them that?” Pleasure made its way to his features.
“Yeah. Listen, they need to treat you like the talent you are. Also, I gave them your rider too. I told Lenny that they need to have a green room set up for you by four on Friday. I gave him a list of all the items that need to be in that room, including the music that keeps you calm and demanded that he sign an agreement saying he understood and would abide by it.”
Coop turned onto his back and looked me in my eyes.
“You said all that?”
I nodded.
He was completely engaged, and quite happy.
“What did Lenny say? Hell, what did Al say?”
“Well, Big Al is cool, but Lenny tried to say you’re not personable, says you look down your nose at his staff and act like you’re bigger than what you are.” All of which was completely true.
Frown lines invaded Coop’s forehead as he listened.
His head tilted ever so slightly. “He said that shit about me?”
His breathing started to escalate. I was trying to calm him, not stir shit up again.
“Baby, I got him good. But you know, I let him set the rope to hang himself. So he’s going on talking about how it would help if you worked the room a little before your set.”
Coop sighed hard. He shook his head as I continued.
“I told him, we’re gonna need that green room, and we’re gonna need the staff to understand you’re not there to socialize. I explained that your voice is an instrument that requires the proper prep before each show, and if there’s lots of chaos and antics going on, you can’t perform to your full potential.”
By now, Coop was up on his elbows and fully engaged in the conversation.
“That’s what’s up! Shiiiid, you think they mess with Prince or MJ before they hit the stage?”
“No, baby. They wouldn’t dare.”
There was no need for me to point out that Cooper couldn’t read music, couldn’t play any instruments, and he had not been performing since early childhood.
Instead, I allowed him to include himself in a circle that was years and works beyond his league or his potential.
“Yo, look, I’m just glad you finally started making some demands. You know how many people tell me the only reason they come there is because they know I’ll be performing?”
He didn’t give me a chance to determine whether it was a rhetorical question before he quickly answered.
“A lot. Hell, when I’m in Kroger, people are constantly stopping me to say they enjoyed the show, or they came just to see me.” He paused for a moment. “I really think I’ve done a lot to increase traffic in that dump. They oughta be kissing the ground I step across.”
My husband knew no boundaries. There was nobody who loved Cooper more than Cooper. He would brag about himself all day and night if he wasn’t stopped.
Before I could regroup, Cooper moved in and his lips covered mine.
Nothing I said was meant to be an aphrodisiac, but it was clear Coop was feeling it. He rubbed my back and pulled me closer. The kiss was hot and hungry. As my eyes closed, and I lost myself in the ecstasy, I thought about how long it had been since we were intimate.
My husband was like no other. All that talk about his career and what I was going to do to make him shine was what did it for him.
He pulled my body close and all but ripped my clothes off. The lace-cup bra was pulled up without being unhooked, and he attacked my nipples like a man who hadn’t eaten in days.
Everything felt good. I breathed hard and hot into his ear and licked his lobes.
Cooper fumbled between his legs and freed himself. I straddled him and sank down onto his stiff erection.
For a second, the expansion of him filled me and took my breath away. He felt good. I had forgotten what it felt like to make love to my husband. So much of what we talked about centered on his career and how I wasn’t doing enough to make him a star.
“Damn,” he moaned.
I clutched his neck and pulled him in closer. He manhandled my breasts and nearly drove me over the edge. I ground my hips into his lap and rode
him unmercifully.
“Damn, Licia! Damn!”
The moment he exploded, I really felt like I had done my part to make him feel better. My pussy was still wet, throbbing, and hungry, but there was no way I could say that to Cooper. The truth was, when it came to sex, knowing he hadn’t satisfied me would devastate him.
Once I rolled off of him, Cooper jumped up and rushed toward the bathroom. He slammed the door shut behind him, and I caught my breath.
A few minutes later, Cooper walked back into the room. I was a little pissed that he didn’t think to bring me a towel.
Freshly showered, my husband’s olive skin, short dark curly hair, and broad shoulders all made him look star-worthy. I knew the power of his intense eyes, so dreamy that looking into them too intently could literally get your juices flowing.
“So, did you ever hear back from the Wine Divas?”
I felt my heart beating in my ear. I was supposed to follow up on that last week and totally had forgotten. There was no way I could tell Coop that I had dropped the ball.
“Babe, I keep calling those people and still no response. I’m gonna make something happen, even if I have to go there myself.”
His expression told me he didn’t believe me.
“Don’t be bullshitting me, Licia. You know I don’t need all that extra shit you give to everyone else.”
“No bullshit, but, baby, I need you to understand this all takes time. There’s no other way for me to put it.” I eased up and moved in on him.
“I’m gonna make you a star, babe, if it’s the last thing I do.”
Coop looked down at me.
“Licia, I’m already a star, baby. It’s your job to make sure the rest of the world figures that out before it’s too damn late! Ya feel me?”
I nodded.
“And if you can’t do it, I need to find somebody who can.”
He grabbed a T-shirt, and then walked out of the room. His aftershave lingered long after he was gone, and so did his threat.
Chapter Four
Laughter pulled me back from thoughts of the early days with Cooper. But it was the kind of laugh that happened when I really wanted to cry. My emotions had a way of taking over when I lost all control. This was usually the time when good thoughts escaped me, and I didn’t know how to get back to being myself. I changed my clothes and fought the other urge. There was no way I should’ve been thinking about things that contributed to my self-destruction, but I could only fight for so long. The battle was an ongoing one, and it never seemed to let up.
