Can I Get a Witness?

by ReShonda Tate Billingsley

  Roland sighed. She could picture him running his hand over the back of his head, what he did whenever he was stressed out. “Ain’t nothing easy about this, D.”

  She struggled to keep from crying. “Maybe we should get together and talk. Maybe we can work through this.” Dionne couldn’t believe she was begging him after what he’d done. Her friends would have a fit, and she knew she was above begging a man to be with her. But right now nothing mattered, not her friends, not her pride. She just wanted to get Roland back. She needed to get him back.

  “I’m sorry. I just need some time to get my head together.”

  Dionne swallowed the lump in her throat. She picked up what had made her call Roland in the first place. “So, you’re staying with Tasha, huh?”

  “It’s not like that at all. I just need some me time right now.”

  She hesitated, before saying, “Okay, cool.”

  “Please understand. Don’t be mad.”

  “I’m not mad. It’s all good,” she lied.

  “Can we be friends?”

  “Yeah, I can always use another friend,” she said wryly. Then she remembered something she’d planned to say to get back at him. “I was thinking I should get out and date anyway.”

  Roland was silent. Dionne knew that would sting. The thought of her with another man would eat him alive. That idea actually empowered her. If only for a minute.

  “Well, I gotta run. You take care of yourself. Friend.” She hung up the phone before he could reply and before she broke down in tears.

  Dionne sat on her sofa, the phone in one hand, the little white stick in the other. The plus sign blared brightly at her. She was all cried out. But she couldn’t help but wonder what she was going to do now. How in the world was she going to raise a child by herself?

  Chapter 10

  “Good Lord, you look like a crackhead.” Ida stood in the doorway of Vanessa’s home, her eyes roaming up and down her niece’s body.

  “Aunt Ida, don’t start.”

  Vanessa left the door open and walked back into the house. She knew she looked a mess. Her curly hair was matted and in need of a good wash and condition. She was still in her bathrobe, which she hadn’t taken off since Thomas walked out.

  Ida followed her in, shutting the door behind her.

  “So this is how you deal with your problems, huh?” Ida surveyed the living room. “I have been calling you for the last two days. I left messages and you haven’t returned my calls. I even called you at work. They told me you were sick and somebody else was taking your caseload. What’s going on with you?”

  “Thanks for caring.” Vanessa plopped down on the sofa and turned her attention back to the Lifetime movie she’d been watching. She’d gotten all of Ida’s messages. And Rosolyn’s. And Dionne’s. But she wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone.

  She’d stumbled across her wedding video this morning, and like a fool, she’d watched it. She and Thomas were so happy then. They were so in love, they’d gotten married after only seven months of dating. She was in her last year of law school when they met. He’d already been working as an architect for three years, and his company had been commissioned to redesign the law library. They’d struck up a conversation one night while she was studying, then went out to dinner and had immediately clicked. She loved his sense of humor and his outlook on life. He admired her physical beauty, her intelligence, and her ambitious nature. The same ambitious nature that seemed to be such a problem for him now.

  Ida stared at the pizza box and the empty Häagen-Dazs container on the coffee table. “Since when do you eat junk food?” Her condescending tone snapped Vanessa out of her thoughts.

  Vanessa picked up a piece of cold pizza and took a huge bite. Her usual health-conscious eating habits had gone out the window these past two days. “Since I found out my cheating husband got another woman pregnant.”

  Ida gasped in disbelief. “Oh, my Lord.”

  “Yep. Your perfect Thomas is no better than all the rest of the dogs in this world.” Distressed by the thought, Vanessa flung the half-eaten piece back in the box. She still couldn’t believe that she had trusted him so blindly. Thomas had convinced her that he was a one-woman man.

  “Oh, my.” Ida sat down in the love seat across from Vanessa.

  “What you have to say now?”

  “Oh, my,” Aunt Ida repeated, in a state of shock.

  “Stop saying that.”

  Ida started to recover herself. “I told you you needed to take care of home or someone else would.”

  Vanessa drew back in surprise. “I can’t believe you’re defending him,” she said incredulously.

  “I’m not defending what he did,” Ida protested. “I’m just saying, I don’t know how long you expected that man to settle for being second-best in your marriage. A husband ain’t supposed to be second to nobody but God.”

  Vanessa didn’t feel like having an old-timey discussion with her aunt. She refused to take the blame for Thomas being a two-timing dog.

  “Aunt Ida,” she said firmly, “I’m tired and need to get some rest. I go back to work tomorrow.” She stood and drew her robe tighter around her body.

  Ida stood as well, picking up the pizza box. “Well, you just go on up to bed. I’m gonna clean this pigsty up. I’ll lock the door on my way out.”

  Vanessa was too tired to argue. Instead she headed upstairs to take a shower.

  “And make sure you do something with your hair!” her aunt called out after her.

  Vanessa let out a small chuckle as she stopped in front of her dresser to look at her hair. It was horrible. She had picked up the comb to begin trying to detangle it when she glimpsed a blue gift box hidden behind the mirror. She set the brush down and pulled the box out. Her heart dropped when she saw it was from Tiffany’s. Vanessa untied the ribbon and opened the box. Tears filled her eyes as she removed the diamond and platinum Tiffany Legacy Pagoda pendant. She took out the card as well. “‘I want a lifetime with you. Love Thomas,’” she read.

  Vanessa wiped away a tear. The day she’d graduated from college, they’d seen this necklace in the mall. He’d told her if she would marry him, he would one day get it for her. Vanessa held the necklace to her chest and sobbed.

  The next morning, Vanessa felt somewhat better, but she definitely could’ve used another day in bed. She’d fallen into a deep sleep and had dreamt of happier times with Thomas. This morning, though, she’d pulled herself together. She placed the Tiffany necklace back in the box and put it in the drawer. Maybe Thomas still had the receipt and could take it back. Then she’d driven to the courthouse, the look on her face daring anyone to mention her own marital problems. No one did.

  “Oh well, time to face the world,” Vanessa muttered as she walked out into her courtroom.

  “All rise,” the bailiff announced.

  Vanessa nodded at him as she took her seat behind the bench. The court clerk had set a stack of folders in front of her. Vanessa opened the top folder, the start of a long day.

  “Reginald Dumas versus Cara Dumas. Are the parties present?”

  “We are, Your Honor,” the couple said at the same time as they stood.

  Vanessa looked up at both of them. They were a beautiful couple. She was a brown-skinned beauty with bright eyes and a warm smile. He was a shade darker with smooth skin and a muscular physique.

  “Do you have representation?” Vanessa asked.

  Both of them shook their heads. Vanessa was amazed at the number of people who came into her court without an attorney, although she knew most of them couldn’t afford one. She herself was going to hire the best divorce attorney in the business when she took Thomas’s no-good behind to divorce court.

  The thought suddenly filled Vanessa with sadness. After years of presiding over family courts, she was about to appear in somebody’s divorce court herself. She shook off the thoughts and turned her attention back to the Dumases.

  “So, Mrs. Dumas, you’re seeking a div
orce on the grounds of infidelity?”

  Cara nodded, as her eyes watered up. “Your Honor, I gave him everything. I gave up my career because he wanted me to be a stay-at-home mom. I had three children because it was what he wanted. I tried to be the perfect wife and then I found out he was keeping another woman, right in the apartment below us.”

  Vanessa couldn’t contain the scowl that crossed her face. Reginald was just like Thomas. A low-down dirty dog.

  “Mrs. Dumas, what is it you’re seeking?” Vanessa asked.

  “Custody of the kids, child support of one thousand dollars a month, and the car,” she said softly.

  Vanessa studied the folder for several minutes before looking up. She couldn’t help but scowl at Reginald, standing there like he was Mr. Playboy Extraordinaire, with his curly hair and hazel eyes. One look and Vanessa could tell he was a snake. “Request granted.” She banged her gavel.

  “What?” Reginald shouted. “Don’t I get a chance to say something?”

  Vanessa glared at him again. “Mr. Dumas, did you or did you not cheat on your wife?”

  “Well, yes, but—”

  “Then there’s nothing you need to say. Request granted.” Vanessa pounded the gavel again. She motioned for the bailiff to remove Reginald, who had started screaming and cursing, from the courtroom.

  Vanessa couldn’t remember how she made it through the rest of the day. All she did know was that by the end of the day, she’d granted nineteen divorces, a record in her courtroom.

  “Ummm, Judge Colton-Kirk?” Vanessa’s secretary, Nicole, stuck her head in the door. “Are you okay? You seemed…ummm…rather harsh today.”

  “I’m fine. Just tired of sorry, trifling men coming through my courtroom,” Vanessa snapped as she removed her robe.

  Vanessa could tell her longtime secretary wanted to say more. But she must’ve decided against it because she simply said, “Okay, if you need anything, anything at all, please give me a call.”

  Vanessa nodded. “I need someone to murder my husband,” she muttered as Nicole closed her office door. “You think you can handle that?”

  Chapter 11

  Murder was still on her mind. Vanessa could see the headlines now: “Famous Judge Slices Husband’s Throat.” That thought was about the only thing that was keeping her from going off right about now. How dare Thomas show up at her front door, looking like he hadn’t done anything wrong?

  “What do you want?” she snapped.

  Thomas’s eyes scanned her body. She knew he was probably shocked at her appearance. She’d come straight home from work and changed into frumpy gray sweats and an oversize Texas Longhorns T-shirt.

  “Are you deaf? I said, what do you want?”

  “I…I was hoping I could pick up some more of my things,” Thomas stammered.

  Vanessa contemplated telling him to get all of his things, but honestly, she was too tired to fight.

  “Whatever, Thomas, just hurry up,” she replied as she made her way back over to the sofa, where she’d been watching reruns of The Cosby Show.

  After twenty minutes, Thomas eased up behind her. She could feel his presence as he stood in silence. “Vanessa, can we talk?” he finally said.

  “We don’t have anything to talk about.” Vanessa didn’t take her eyes off the TV.

  “I just want us to end this amicably.”

  “End it amicably?” She turned to him and laughed harshly. “Amicably. Ha! I didn’t know you were going into the comedy business.”

  Thomas gingerly sat down on the love seat across from her. She was glad to see he was suffering, too. He looked worn out. There were bags under his eyes and stress had dug crevices in his forehead. “Vanessa, I never meant to hurt you. I can’t say that enough.”

  Vanessa couldn’t believe his gall. “I hate to see what damage you could do if you really tried to hurt me.”

  “Let’s be real. Our marriage was over a long time ago. I used to think we were on the same page, that we wanted the same things out of life—”

  “Oh, here we go again,” she said, fed up. “How about we talk about the only thing we need to be talking about—our divorce.”

  Thomas released a defeated sigh. “Vanessa…”

  “Thomas, get your stuff and get out.”

  Vanessa was picking up the remote when Thomas’s next remark stopped her in mid-click. “What are we going to do about the house?”

  Vanessa looked at him like he’d lost his mind. “What are you talking about?”

  Thomas glanced down at the floor as he fidgeted with his hands. “I mean, are we going to sell the house or what?”

  “We ain’t doing nothin’,” she said, wagging the remote back and forth between the two of them. “I’m staying right here in my house. You go design your own damn house with your mistress and your kid.”

  “Vanessa,” he said, shaking his head adamantly, “I put a lot of time and money into this house.”

  “And? You should’ve thought about that before you went out and had a baby with another woman.”

  “This house is worth half a million dollars.”

  “Six hundred and fifty thousand, to be exact,” she informed him. “And you forfeited the right to one penny of it when you decided to have a baby with another woman.”

  He ran his hands over his forehead, squeezing his eyes shut in frustration. “I know I was wrong,” he said, his voice drawn, “but that doesn’t mean I lose my rights. I was hoping we could just sell it and split the profits.”

  No, this fool wasn’t talking about her selling her house because of his infidelity.

  Vanessa leaned forward, her brow furrowing. “You look here, you ungrateful bastard. If you even think about trying to take my house, I will make you wish you’d never been born.”

  Thomas wasn’t backing down on this issue, though. “I can see you’re not going to make this easy,” he said as he rubbed his hands on his pants legs. “But I’m letting you know now, I’m not walking away from this marriage with nothing.” He stood up and walked out of the room.

  Vanessa jumped up and was close on his heels. “Bring it on, Thomas. You forget, I know every trick in the book,” she snarled.

  He stopped just as he opened the front door. He looked back at her and said, “My attorney will be in touch.” He let the door slam behind him.

  Vanessa quickly glanced over at the remaining Gambian statue on the table. “You and your attorney can go to hell!” She hurled the statue at the door and watched as it shattered.

  Chapter 12

  Dionne hadn’t hung out with her girls for months and now she was remembering why.

  “Honestly, Dionne, I don’t know why you are in such a big hurry to get married,” her friend Trina said. Dionne, Trina, Melanie, and another girlfriend named Kyla were sitting on the patio, enjoying appetizers at Pappadeaux’s Seafood Restaurant. They’d met at Melanie’s insistence in an effort to cheer Dionne up.

  Dionne had just finished filling in Trina and Kyla on what had happened with Roland. Trina had been unhappily married for four years and, like Melanie, was not a proponent of marriage at all.

  “Girl, take it from me, it ain’t nothing but a big headache,” Trina huffed. “It’s like having a second job with no benefits that you don’t get paid for.”

  Dionne exhaled in frustration. She was so tired of hearing that. “If married life is so miserable, then why are you still married?” she asked Trina.

  “’Cause he won’t leave!” Trina exclaimed. “And I haven’t figured out how to kill him yet and get away with it.” She leaned in, whispering heavily. “But I tell you, I’ll look at him while he’s sleep at night, thinking, ‘Just stop breathin’, just stop breathin’.’”

  They all laughed at Trina, who was the comedian of the group. She talked about how much she couldn’t stand her husband, yet she made no moves to ever leave him. Every time Dionne saw them together, they looked very loving.

  “Kyla, will you tell this girl she does not wa
nt to be married?” Melanie said, turning to Kyla, who was on her third husband, even though she wasn’t but twenty-nine years old.

  “Why do we have this conversation every time we get together?” Kyla said as she looked over the menu. She openly admitted that the third time she’d married for money, not love. After the first two marriages, which she’d done in the name of love, had ended terribly, she found her a sixty-year-old rich man, and was happy as all get-out being his trophy wife. “Besides, I thought we had talked you out of this marriage nonsense the last time we went out,” she added. “Girl, I keep trying to tell you, you had better enjoy being single while you can.”

  “Yeah,” Trina chimed in. “If I could turn back the clock, believe me, I would.”

  “You guys are just like my sisters. You don’t get it,” Dionne said wearily. She was even more passionate about getting a husband now that she was pregnant. Of course, she couldn’t tell her friends that. “All of you have someone at home,” she pointed out. “Now, whether or not you want them there is a different story. But when we leave here tonight, you will go home and climb up in the bed next to a warm, cozy body. What do I have waiting on me at home? A freakin’ teddy bear I’ve had for fifteen years.”

  “First of all,” Melanie replied, “I am not married and don’t want to be. Second of all, I don’t even want to know what you been doing with that teddy bear that has him hanging around for fifteen years.”

  Trina laughed and added, “Melanie, you may as well be married. You’ve been with Marcus for almost eight years and living together for three, so what’s the difference?”

  “The difference,” Melanie stressed, “is when that fool gets on my nerves, I can pack my crap and leave with no strings attached.”

  Dionne was truly frustrated with her friends. They were supposed to be comforting her about Roland. Instead, they were harping on their usual topic: marriage bashing.

  “See, that’s what I’m talking about. I don’t want to feel that way about my husband, boyfriend, or whatever,” Dionne said. “You all have such a negative attitude toward being married, but I bet not one of you would survive being single for more than a month.”