Ten minutes went by. I decided to monitor my home in Long Beach from my iPhone. Outside there was nothing unusual. I checked my bedroom. Normal. I turned on the back porch and kitchen lights, turned off the living room lights, then peeped inside my parents’ bedroom. The coffins were closed just like I’d left them.
After the credits rolled, the director proposed to Velvet. Right as Honey’s water broke, Velvet accepted his marriage proposal, then Grant asked Honey, “Is that my baby?”
My jaw dropped. Jada stood, did the pee-pee dance. Jada was truly going to need a friend. I thought I was on top of things, but this was new and valuable information. Jada’s cell phone rang, temporarily interrupting the flow of things.
Honey answered Grant, “It’s not your child, but these babies are your twin boys.”
Well, thank God they weren’t Valentino’s. He already had three children he wasn’t taking care of. Left his wife and kids, for what? To try to be the man for another woman? To raise Honey’s babies? How he gon’ put an engagement ring on Honey’s finger when that fool was still legally married? According to Jada’s file on Valentino, Summer was the best thing that ever happened to him. Hopefully Summer won’t come running to bail him out this time.
Jada stopped speaking into her phone long enough to call Honey a liar. Jada walked away, returned, then cried to Grant, “Fancy was hit by a driver. We’ve got to go to the hospital.”
Bingo! I said to myself. That was what my contact meant when she’d said, “I got her good.” Yes!
Jada yelled, “Grant! Did you hear me? Darius’s wife was hit by a driver! Let’s go!”
I guess people had the right to be consumed with their issues. Jada was worried about Fancy. Grant was worried about Honey. And I was concerned with my Darius. He needed me to console him. I had to find out what hospital they were at.
My intention to get Darius was no fly-by-night suck-his-dick groupie trick. Oh, no. I’d already sucked his dick twice but he wouldn’t remember. How could he? I was never the same woman twice. I was determined to either marry him or massacre him. If I couldn’t have Darius Jones, no woman would, especially Fancy.
I had to make sure Fancy’s hospital stay was permanent.
CHAPTER 13
Jada
My heart dropped to the floor when Grant didn’t move a step.
I had two choices. Drag him or leave him. I glanced at the woman sitting in Bambi’s seat. Maybe Bambi had changed her mind about coming and gave her ticket to the white woman behind me. Refusing to make a spectacle of myself, I hiked up the hem of my gown, then stormed out the theater.
One heel clicked in front of the other. My pace increased to a light jog down the aisle and out the back exit. Frantically I searched for Grant’s driver’s limo. Rows of black stretch Escalades, Hummers, Lexuses, and Tahoes lined the parking lot. Holding my gown inches above my ankles, I gulped the warm car exhaust air in attempt to prevent an anxiety attack.
I turned 180 degrees and bumped into the white woman in a green gown who was practically on my heels. “I’m so sorry,” she said, then asked, “Are you okay? I overheard you say someone was in an accident. Is there anything I can do to help you?”
Her Valley girl tone made me frown. She was extremely buxom for a woman of her race, like she was a black woman trapped in a white person’s body. Her blue eyes stared into mine. I turned another 180 degrees. “Where is his driver?” The line for taxis was unbelievable. I couldn’t give up. Darius and Fancy needed me. Panting, I leaned forward, placed my hands on my knees.
“I can give you a ride to the hospital,” the woman said. “I’m headed that way and my driver is right there.” She pointed at a black Town Car less than a hundred feet away. I didn’t want to leave Grant with Honey.
Beep. Beep. I glanced up but didn’t straighten up until I heard Grant’s voice. “Jada, over here.”
Thank God. I told the woman, “I appreciate your offer but I have a ride.”
I hopped in the back of Grant’s limo, sat beside him, then told the driver, “Take us to Cedars Hospital quick. It’s an emergency.”
My body shivered but I wasn’t cold. I was worried about Fancy, Darius, my grandbaby, and my relationship. I was terribly upset with and disappointed in Grant for believing Honey but grateful that he hadn’t abandoned me.
“Can’t you find a faster way out of this jam, driver?”
“Doing the best I can, ma’am, without going over the top.”
Grant laughed. I didn’t.
Timing was horrible but I had to ask Grant, “What is your obsession with her?”
“Her? I’m here with you, aren’t I?”
He was with me but he was torn between her and me. I wasn’t going to be Grant’s rebound. “Her, yes, her. Honey. That ‘her.’ Now answer the question.”
“What was the question, again?”
“Don’t play with me.”
Grant turned away, stared at the black tinted window. I stared at his reflection. He couldn’t escape me or my question.
“Look, it’s not an obsession. I know Honey. I’m the father. She wouldn’t lie to me,” he said, still looking away.
Men. Grant didn’t want me to see the uncertainty in his eyes. He prayed he was the father because he wanted Honey. Otherwise, he’d be on my side. He had to choose. No way was I signing up for a three-some or a five-some.
I demanded. “Look at me.” I waited, made an eye-to-eye connection, then continued, “Oh, but you lied to me.” I searched for answers I already knew. “How did she get pregnant if you claimed you used protection? Huh? We could’ve ended this relationship nine months ago.”
Grant stared at the floor, shook his head. “Jada, we’ve got more important things to concern ourselves with. This is not the time to argue.”
“Oh, so now I’m Jada and not ‘baby.’ Admit that you lied to me, Grant! Admit it, damn it!” Maybe I should’ve accepted that ride from that nice lady.
“If it’ll make you feel better, okay, you’re right. You’re always right. Satisfied? I lied to you but that doesn’t change the fact that Fancy is injured and Honey is about to deliver my boys. Driver, please hurry. I don’t want to miss my sons being born.”
I slid closer to him. My thigh touched his, reminding me how muscular his body was. How great his naked body felt lying next to mine. This man had sexed me senseless. Made me feel young again.
“No, Grant. She’s about to deliver her babies. Until we have a paternity test, I consider this one more lie to add to her list of trifling ways. Maybe I should call the police and tell them where to find Ms. Prostitute. Huh? Ms. Madam. Huh? Save you the disappointment. She’s unfit and you know it. How about I do you that favor?”
Grant became quiet. His jaw flinched. He sucked then licked his upper teeth. “How about I tell you that”—Grant paused, looked me in the eyes, then continued—“I’m still in love with Honey.”
Smack! My involuntary reflexes hit him. I went to slap Grant’s face again. He grabbed my wrist.
“Stop it, Jada. Don’t you ever, ever hit me again. I’m trying to be honest with you. I thought I’d gotten her out of my system by not seeing her for nine months but—” He stopped speaking midsentence. A tear fell. He blinked.
I knew that feeling all too well but wasn’t going to admit it to Grant. I told him, “I’d be lying if I said I understood. I don’t. Why am I wearing this?” I asked him, wiggling my engagement ring in front his face. “What about the million dollars my son has already paid for our wedding? I didn’t pursue you, Grant. You—” I stopped speaking.
I wanted to slap his face again. I wanted to push him out of the moving limo. I wanted to hurt him more than he’d hurt me. I deserved somebody to love me the way he loved Honey. My Wellington was my soul mate. He loved me like no other man but I couldn’t bring him back. I had womanly needs that I wanted Grant to continue fulfilling.
Wellington and I had lots of great days but over time they were always interrupted by that no good
Melanie Marie Thompson. There was always a woman lurking in search of destroying my good relationship. When Wellington and I were engaged, Melanie had lied and said she was pregnant with his triplets. She knew damn well her babies weren’t for him. But like a fool (or a good man), Wellington believed her and did what he thought was right. He married her. So I left them in the Bay area and moved from Oakland to Los Angeles. After Wellington found out the truth we reunited and eventually married. Years later, when he was in the hospital dying, I wished I’d never found out that he’d never stopped seeing Melanie.
Why do men lie so damn much? Why do I keep falling in love with the same type of man? Maybe I should just let Grant go. He’s already telling me he’s never going to give up Honey. What was more important was for me not to take him back when he finds out those babies aren’t his.
I was glad the driver was on La Cienega Boulevard in front of Bloomingdale’s at the Beverly Center. “Go down Beverly and drop me off at the Emergency entrance.” I needed to get away from Grant and inhale fresh air before I passed out or knocked him out.
“Hey, I’m sorry,” he said, holding my hand. “I never meant for this to come out, not this way. I have too much respect for you. It’s just seeing her and not knowing, you know?”
I wasn’t about to accept his indirect apology. He’d known she was pregnant. When was he going to tell me? That was the question. In his heart, he knew he wanted her and not me. That hurt.
I removed his engagement ring from my finger, placed it in his hand, and said, “You owe my son a million dollars. Take your ring and save your apology for Honey. We’re done. No, make that, I’m done with you and your lies. And one more thing. Don’t ever call me again. And another thing, I hate you! And…and…” Wow. In less than five minutes after giving back his ring, I’d run out of negative things to say to Grant.
But I wasn’t done with him yet. Oh, no. I was just getting started.
CHAPTER 14
Bambi
“Get out the goddamn car, tricks.” What on earth were Jada and Grant doing? Women. Damn. She was probably tripping because those babies might be his. Not like his sperm could crack her mother hen eggs. “Get out of the damn car!”
“Stop here at this street meter,” I told the driver. Didn’t want us to create a Coming to America scene with multiple luxury cars in front of Emergency, thinking we were lost shopaholics who were supposed to be across the street at the Beverly Center.
En route to the hospital I’d done a quick wardrobe change in the car. Wasn’t much I could do in the short t ime frame to alter my blond hair and brows so I gathered my hair on top of my head and covered it with a charcoal Yankee baseball cap. Each time I wore this cap it reminded me of Jay-Z’s and Alicia Keys’s “Empire State of Mind.”
Yanked out my silicone pads, kept on my butt pads. I threw on my plain gray sweats and a matching T-shirt. Now I resembled a fair-complexioned black woman with itty-bitty titties and big booty.
I’d replaced my blue contacts with gray, removed my eyelashes, changed my makeup to a fresh clean earth tone. Slipped on my socks and gray tennis shoes. At times, I preferred gray because unlike wearing all black or white, not many people noticed the color gray or the person wearing it.
“Damn. It’s about time.” Tossing my binoculars on the seat, I got out of my Town Car. I eased on my sunglasses, snapped on my eavesdropping Bluetooth, turned up the volume as I raced across four lanes of traffic on Beverly. I slowed my pace, trailed a short distance behind Jada and Grant. Grant smelled good and looked great.
I stood on the opposite end of the lobby listening to them speak with the intake nurse who was behind the desk. Grant reminded me of a lighter skinned Dwight Howard. If I weren’t loyal to Darius, I’d snatch Grant from Jada and Honey. His broad shoulders were the kind I could hug for hours. That black tuxedo with the red wing collar worked. I checked out his shoes. Thank God they were black and not red. I didn’t like men who were ultracolorful head to toe.
Jada’s gear was glam but her face was garbage. The way she sucked her lips in so damn far I thought she’d choke on them. Good for her she had that black-don’t-crack dark radiant skin. If her face were dry, the way she was all twisted, those hazel eyes would’ve caved in behind cracked crow’s feet. As they faced my direction, I turned my back, walked a few feet away but heard every word.
“Are you coming with me?” Jada asked Grant.
“Coming with you where? You heard the receptionist. Fancy isn’t in her room yet.” Grant shook his head. “But Honey is in labor. I hope she’ll let me watch our boys being born. I missed her whole pregnancy. Can’t miss the delivery too. But I’ll find you later. Don’t leave the hospital without calling me.”
All I needed was the room number for Fancy but I overheard the receptionist say the number for Honey’s birthing room too. She’d be in that room the remainder of her stay, the woman had said. Fancy was assigned to a room on the third floor; Honey on the ninth, both in the north tower.
After Jada and Grant got on the elevator, I roamed the lobby letting fifteen minutes pass before approaching the intake nurse. “Excuse me. I’m here for the birth of my nephews. My brother-in-law said my sister Honey Thomas is in room nine-one-oh-nine.”
“She’s got a sizable support group up there already. I’m not sure if there’s enough space in her room for you but you can try. If the room is overcrowded, there’s a family waiting room down the hall,” she said, handing me a peel-and-stick badge.
“Thanks,” I said, pressing on my visitor’s pass.
I went to Fancy’s floor first. Found 3117. Peeped inside. The refrigerated room was empty. The gust of air gave me chill bumps.
“Excuse me, miss, you can’t go in there. We’re preparing that room for a patient.”
I turned around. The nurse proceeded to step in front of me, then close the door. She wore a white cotton short-sleeved V-collar pullover with random pastel hearts scattered about. Her pants were solid white and she had on those white leather oxfords. I noticed she wore a name badge, Anita Harris, RN. Her short hair was auburn, brows black, lips wide, and pumpkin-seed-shaped eyes. I could easily apply a wig and my theatrical makeup to resemble her features.
“Oh, I was looking for my friend. The receptionist told me she was here,” I lied.
Quickly, she asked, “What’s your friend’s name?”
“Fancy Taylor.”
“What’s your name?” she asked, setting a teal tote with lavender straps inside the room by the door.
She sure had a lot of questions. Bitch was lucky I left my Mace in the limo. I told her, “Bambi.”
“Yeah, right. Miss, don’t come up here trying to get an autograph from Darius Jones. His wife is in critical condition. Please, leave and don’t let me see you up here again.” She entered the room, then mumbled, “Damn, groupies done started already.”
Who in the fuck she calling a groupie?
Leaving wasn’t a problem. And I’d be back but she wouldn’t see the real me. I’d seen the sizable room reserved for Fancy. I wasn’t concerned with seeing Fancy right away. Wasn’t like she was going anyplace soon. Plus, the situation was too fresh for me to make a move.
Darius probably wasn’t leaving Fancy’s side tonight but he had a game coming up in Cleveland in a few days and he was scheduled to return to Atlanta after that game. Wish it were play-offs instead of preseason. His team could do without him this early in the season. Damn. I checked out the floor plan, the location of the nurses’ station, and noted where the nearest stairway exits were in relation to Fancy’s room. I trotted downstairs, sat in the lobby for thirty minutes, then took the stairs back up to bypass the nurses’ station.
I checked the ninth-floor exit door entrance from the stairway to see if I could gain access to the floor. The door was unlocked. I trotted to the third floor, entered through the exit door. The door to room 9109 was closed.
Now that I had the lay of the land, I’d come up with a brilliant idea.
> CHAPTER 15
Darius
First detained by a cop to answer questions about the accident, now I paced the hallway outside of ICU waiting to hear my wife’s fate. I hugged my son to my chest. His legs were wrapped in bandages. The doctor said he had abrasions, no deep wounds. Lil’ man would be okay in a week or two. He was released to me but I couldn’t take care of him that long.
“We need to check on Grandma, my man.”
“I want my mommy.”
“Me, too. But we have to wait until the doctor says it’s okay to go in.”
“No, Daddy. I want my mommy, not Fancy. I’m scared.”
I kissed my son. He didn’t understand that Ashlee was awarded every other weekend visitations. Letting him stay with his mom in D.C. would be voluntarily breaking the court order. I hadn’t violated the Dallas custody order in three-plus years. Wasn’t going to do it now. I dialed my mom’s number. DJ could stay with her until Fancy got better.
Mom answered, “Hey, baby. I’m here. I’m on my way up. What floor are you on?”
“Third. I’m in the hallway. They haven’t let me see her yet. I need you to come get DJ.”
“I just got off the elevator. I’m walking up behind you.”
“Grandma! You made it.”
“Yeah, baby. Grandma made it.”
Mom touched DJ’s bandages. Her brows raised, eyes squinted. I told her it wasn’t that bad. She exhaled, kissed DJ, rubbed his back.
“Why you all dressed up, Grandma?”
“Grandma had to get here fast to get you, sweetheart. You are more important than me changing my clothes. Come here, Grandma’s baby.”
Relieved Mom had taken my son, I hugged them both. My tears flowed. I tried hard to stop. Didn’t want my son seeing me break down like this. I felt a tap on my shoulder.
“Excuse, me. Darius, man. I heard you were here but didn’t believe it,” a man dressed in blue scrubs said. “Can I get your autograph?” His smile was wide. Swore I saw and wanted to knock out all thirty-two of his teeth. He stood there grinning and shoving a pen and pad in my hands.
Darius Jones Page 5
