by Pat Tucker
Evelyn turned to Cooper. “Let’s hope this time, he’s man enough to pull the trigger. You see how hardheaded she is!”
She used the flute to motion in my direction again.
My mother whipped around to face Evelyn. “Eve, you called the police on your own damn sister?”
Chapter Twenty-Three
My mother must’ve called Yesterday and told her that I was in jail. Three days after I was arrested at Cooper’s house, Yesterday was my first and only visitor. I had gone to jail for Cooper in the past, but now, he was that same man who cheered when the judge ordered me to jail.
There was no honor associated with this latest arrest, and Yesterday knew that. There were times when I wished she would mind her own damn business. The last place I needed a visitor was in jail, but there she was.
“Felicia Spears!”
When the jailer called my name, I started to ignore him. I figured he must’ve called my name by mistake. Lying on that filthy cot, in that crowded, stinky cell, drove home the reality that I really had no one. Not that bail money was an option, but I had no one to call to even try and scrape up the cash.
“If she don’t want her visit, I’ll take it,” another inmate said.
Two other inmates slapped high-fives and cracked up with laughter, as I pulled myself up from the thin mattress. The way the women’s eyes began at my feet, then rolled up the length of my body as I got up, was telling.
Women behind bars had nothing better to do than try to get some shit started. I hated being in jail, even though on the outside, I’d been in a prison for what felt like years since Cooper turned my life upside down.
I walked out of the cell and followed the jailer down the hall toward the visiting room.
“Next time you hear your fucking name, you need to move like fire is under your ass!” he growled at me.
I ignored him, and kept walking. Once the main door to the visiting area opened, I took a deep breath. From across the room, as our eyes connected, Yesterday shook her head like she felt sorry for me. I didn’t need her pity.
When I sat down, she exhaled. “You can’t keep going on like this,” Yesterday said. “Why’d you go over there?”
Her words were laced with pity.
“Trey tried to call the night before, and I missed his call.” I glanced away. “I thought it might be you or my mother, so I ignored the phone. But I just wanted him to know that I wasn’t ignoring him. Besides, I wanted to see him.”
“But the restraining order,” she whispered. “You gotta think before you do these things.”
As much as I appreciated that she came to see me, what I didn’t like was how she and my mother contributed to my misery, pushed me to the edge. Then when I went over, they wanted to behave as if they were so concerned.
“It was stupid of me to go over there, but I don’t know.” I shrugged.
“I know you don’t want to hear this, but I’ve really been thinking about your situation, and I’m telling you, Felicia, I think you should consider doing some interviews.”
She looked at me like she was trying to gauge my reaction before she went all in on the idea.
“Look, Yesterday, I am sitting in a full, nasty, stanky jail cell. Interviews are the last thing on my mind right now.”
“Felicia. This is the second time you violated this restraining order. I’m sure that the judge will probably want you to sit in jail for a while this time.”
My heart sank at the sound of those words.
Until she said it, I hadn’t considered the idea of me possibly staying in jail. As crazy as it sounded, I felt like once a judge, or anyone, heard my side, maybe they’d understand. It didn’t seem fair that Cooper was able to live this incredible life that I had worked hard to help him attain, without me. Who wouldn’t be bitter after that?
“You’ve gotta move on with your life, sweetie.”
I leaned forward, and that caused Yesterday to do the same.
“Move on, huh? How do you suggest I do that? You and my mother act like it’s so damn easy. You guys expect me to move on like my own damn sister isn’t married to my ex. Oh, yeah, and my damn ex is living the good life, that I created for him. Let me guess; go out with the mud-duck at work or anyone else for that matter?”
Yesterday pulled back and started to slowly shake her head.
“That’s not what I’m saying, and I feel you, I really do. You’re right; the fact that Cooper is making boss moves now; that’s a bunch of bullshit. But, Felicia, what do you want to do about it? You can sit here and continue to follow down this destructive path or you could try and get some damn revenge.”
Revenge?
She had my attention. I focused on her words like never before. I could use some revenge against Cooper and Eve. For years, the only things that came to mind seemed impossible.
“Think about it. Women love Coop; they love him because all they know is the story that he and Evelyn have put out there. Evelyn has worked hard to craft a brand that resonates with women. Houston native son makes it big and refuses to leave the South for the glimmer and glitz of fake L.A. He’s right here to show other men what they should be saying to all these desperate, single, Southern women. Who wouldn’t fall in love with that story?”
Her point was a good one. When Cooper had left me the way he did, I was ashamed. I felt like it was my fault, so I focused on my pain and misery. Fighting didn’t even cross my mind. How would I fight? He had money but still took everything—my child, my dignity. I couldn’t seem to get past the depression that set in.
Sheepishly, I looked up at Yesterday; until now, I had never thought about it like that. His story, the very one I helped create, was a real good one that tugged at your heart. Most men run to L.A. despite the stereotype of fake women, but Cooper’s songs talk about the down-home Southern Belles in us all. His lyrics are made up of words we all want to hear.
“Yeah, people don’t know the real Cooper,” I admitted.
“But imagine if they did. Imagine if they heard all that he and your own damn sister put you through. Instead of being the victim, why not tell your side of the story?” Yesterday was working hard to convince me that I hadn’t lost all of my power.
Using my hands, I dry-rubbed my face and released a hefty breath. What she said sounded good, but I knew for sure it wouldn’t be that easy.
“You think people would care about my side?”
For years, I figured people only cared about him because he was a celebrity. America is obsessed with celebrities, and I thought even if they knew what he had done, it wouldn’t matter much.
Yesterday’s eyes grew wide in exaggeration. She pursed her lips and adjusted her body in her seat.
“I hate to put it like this, but real talk, he’s so hot right now, they’ll care about anything remotely related to him—truth, lie, or not. You have a whole lot more power than you realize!”
Despite myself, I was starting to get excited about what she was saying. Would the world be so quick to melt at his sexually suggestive lyrics if they knew that deep down, he was completely heartless? Regardless of how desperate women may be for a man, few would tolerate a man who mistreats women.
“And let’s not even get started on his constant attempts to keep you away from Trey. Girl, please. I don’t know why you didn’t entertain this before. I kept telling you.”
And she had. Yesterday couldn’t understand why I never wanted to tell my side of the story. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that in my attempt to let the truth be known about Cooper, it would have potentially brought out a whole lot of my own dirt. And that couldn’t have been good for my credibility.
I wasn’t sure if I were ready to air my own dirty laundry. I knew for sure, my stains were the kind that could really stink up the place.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Back in
my cell after the visit with Yesterday, I thought hard about her suggestion. How much would I tell? What about the things I had done? How could I call myself spilling the tea about Cooper, when some of the shit I had done was hard for me to even think about.
I closed my eyes and tried to stop the tears that had threatened to push through. But all that did was cause more miserable memories to flood my mind.
Six months after we’d agreed to a residency gig at Milan’s of Houston, I walked into a heated argument between Cooper and Big Al’s manager, Lenny Brown.
Lenny was a petite man who got along with everyone. Despite his always sunny disposition, somehow, he seemed to rub Cooper the wrong way, and that always meant trouble.
“You need to deal with your client ’cause he on some ol’ bullshit right now,” Lenny said.
In the months we’d been at the club, I had never heard Lenny raise his voice. He was old school, hardly cursed in a woman’s presence, but now, his eyes had transformed to slits, and he was breathing fire.
“Lenny, Lenny, let me handle this. I’ll talk to him, just give me a few minutes.” I tried to use my body as a barrier between Lenny and Cooper, and spoke as calmly as possible. But Cooper wouldn’t shut the hell up.
“Fuck this shit! They expect me to do all kinds of shit for the peanuts they paying us; fuck ’em and fuck they damn contract!” Cooper spat.
I turned to Cooper, and through tight lips, I said, “Shut the hell up now, and allow me to handle this.” If he didn’t get it, my tone should’ve indicated that the situation was ripe, and he needed to back down.
“See, that’s the shit I’m talking about. He’s one ungrateful bastard! You know how many people who’d love to take your spot?” Lenny yelled.
“Let ’em have it! I don’t need this shit!” Cooper huffed.
But he was wrong and he knew it; we needed the gig, and we needed it badly.
Unable to get through to Cooper, I whipped around to face Lenny. “Don’t listen to him; let me talk to him alone. I’m sorry about all of this.” I was desperate. “If I can just get him alone for a few minutes, I can help straighten this out.”
In the time we’d been at the club, I wasn’t able to make anything else happen for Cooper’s career. The challenges were far harder than I’d expected. Everything was a struggle, and it didn’t help that Cooper behaved like he had already arrived, and the rest of us needed to get with it.
With one hand shoving Cooper away from Lenny, and my other hand blocking Lenny, I was utterly exhausted with Cooper.
I turned to him and yelled, “Shut the fuck up!”
“I’m outta here. We ain’t gotta do another fucking show!”
“You walk out, and we will sue your bitch ass!” Lenny barked back.
That was why I needed him to shut up. We were under a two-year contract with them, but yet, there Cooper was threatening to walk out. He had no damn clue about what it took to hold shit together.
“Lenny, please, just give me a few minutes, and I swear, I’ll come talk to you. But let me get my client under control.”
The deadly expressions the two exchanged made me wonder whether I’d make it out of there alive. But soon, Lenny, released a heavy breath, looked at me and said, “You could do better than his bitch ass. I’ll be in the back office when you ready, Felicia.”
Before he left, he shot Cooper one last look and it wasn’t meant to be friendly.
“Who the fuck you callin’ a bitch?” Cooper screamed at Lenny’s back as he walked out of the dressing room. I rolled my eyes. The minute the door closed behind Lenny, I lit into Cooper.
“Listen, I get it, this is not a fancy Vegas residency, but damn, Coop, do you really have to go on like this?”
He was looking at himself in the mirror. Although he tried to act like he was ignoring me, I knew he heard what I was saying, and deep down inside, he knew I was right.
“You can’t get bent out of shape because the manager wants you to do requests.”
Cooper whipped around to face me. “I ain’t signed up to be signing no damn Happy Birthday to a bunch of wrinkled-up hoochie mamas. What kind of gig is this, and how long do I have to wait for you to make something real happen?”
“Coop, this is something real! Every Friday night, you’re singing, what you love to do. It may not be much to you, but it is something. And how are you gonna get mad because club customers want you to sing something. That’s what you’re supposed to do; you’re a friggin’ singer!”
It took everything in me to refrain from violence. I wanted to literally smack some sense into him. He didn’t understand what it took to get him a gig, and he had one, but would risk losing it over trivial bullshit.
“I’m better than this dump,” he looked around, “and if this the best you can do, maybe I need to start looking for new representation.”
At least three times a week, that was how often Cooper threatened to replace me. I was sick of it, but for now, I needed him to pull it together and do what the hell he was being paid to do, which was sing.
“I ain’t fucking singing Happy Birthday tonight, so you need to go do whatever the hell you need to make Lenny understand.”
Cooper turned away from me and put the earbuds back in his ears. Soon, he was stroking an imaginary air guitar as if I weren’t still standing there.
There was nothing I could do to change his mind and convince him that sometimes we had to do what needed to be done to get along. But that would’ve been a waste on him. Cooper only saw things his way, and there was never any compromise. I rolled my eyes hard out of frustration.
Before stepping back out into the club, I took a deep breath and told myself this was all a part of management. Cooper was difficult, but I needed to overlook that and get the job done.
Unfortunately for me, the minute I walked out the door, Lenny was there.
“What’s with him?” He nodded toward the door.
It pained me to have to talk nicely about Cooper when I was still pissed at him. But I couldn’t avoid it because it was clear Lenny waited for me.
“You need to get rid of him, before he drags you down. I’m serious; it’s like he walks around here acting like we should be glad his ass is here.”
Lenny and the rest of the bar staff didn’t know Cooper was my husband. We decided it was better if we kept our relationship professional.
Cooper thought people wouldn’t take us seriously if they knew we were a wife and husband team. I didn’t completely agree, but it wasn’t worth a fight, so I went along.
Lenny wanted to stand and talk, but I needed to try and move him away from the door. Everything he said about Cooper was probably true, but no amount of conversation about it or him would fix all that was wrong with Cooper, so I took a few steps forward in hopes that Lenny would follow.
“You know I’ve got Big Al’s ear, right?”
That question made my heart threaten to quit. Was he trying to say I’d have to get on my knees or my back to help the relationship between him and Cooper? I was getting tired of being the only person who had to put out to get something for an ungrateful client.
Before Lenny could clarify what he meant, the door swung open and Cooper stepped out.
“What the hell you still talking to him for?” he asked.
Chapter Twenty-Five
"Scooch down a little,” a woman said.
Her order brought me back from that memory with even more rage in my heart. As I sat on a bench in a hallway, linked by handcuffs to eight other women down at the Harris County Criminal Justice Center on Franklin Street in downtown, my nerves were fried. One week after my arrest, I was still in jail. I wanted the mess to be over. I only had a public defender, and that meant my ass was as good as gone, but there was nothing I could do.
Everyone seemed lost in their own thoughts.
It was i
nteresting to me that on a normal day, these were the same women who bullied, took part in catcalls, and ganged up on the weak, but today, they were all quiet angels as we waited to see the judge.
The door that led to the courtroom would open, one of the bailiffs shouted a name, an officer unlocked the cuffs to free a suspect, and she was escorted into the courtroom to face the judge.
It was so quiet as we waited, that I heard stomachs growl and rumble. My thoughts were also focused on what might happen to me. Seconds later, the door creaked open, and it seemed like everything fell to a slow motion.
Even the bailiff’s voice took on an underwater-type sound when he said, “Felicia Spears…”
He rattled off a case number.
That was me!
My heart raced as the officer walked toward me. He snatched my wrists, used a key to disconnect me from the others, then grumbled, “Move it!”
Nothing was done with care on the other side. The guards, officers, civilians were all rude, short, and impatient when they handled inmates. They never tried to hide their disdain for those of us who were accused of breaking the law.
I shuffled up to the door and walked through and into the bright lights of the courtroom. There was no need for me to look around. I knew no one would be there on my behalf, or so I thought.
As I strolled to the front of the judge, I caught a glimpse of Yesterday and my mother. It was hard to describe how seeing them there made me feel. But the anger seemed to melt away just a little. On the other side of the courtroom, Cooper and Evelyn’s attorney stood ready to take me down.
When I went before the judge, he had absolutely no sympathy, mercy, nor patience. Once I was properly identified, my case number verified, and my public defender in place, the judge asked a few questions and waited for me to answer.
My shaky voice responded, saying I understood the charges against me, confirmed that I was aware there was a protective order to stay away from Cooper and my sister, and then I was urged to enter a plea.
