“Miss Vanessa, can I talk to you for a minute?” Alana had followed her out.
Vanessa tried her best to regain her composure. “Don’t call me Miss Vanessa,” she said sharply. “As a matter of fact, don’t call me anything at all.”
“I’m sorry. I was just taught to always respect my elders.”
Vanessa glared at her, but instead of responding, pulled out her keys.
“Wait, I just need to talk to you,” Alana said.
“I don’t think we have anything to talk about.” She hit the remote, unlocking the car.
“It doesn’t feel good, does it?” Alana sneered. The change in the tone of her voice made Vanessa stop short. The innocent look Alana had worn earlier was gone, replaced by a satisfied smirk.
“Excuse me? What are you talking about?”
“It doesn’t feel good, does it? You know, watching your marriage fall apart?” She lovingly rubbed her belly, which looked like it was about to pop at any moment. “All the marriages you destroy. It doesn’t feel good to have someone destroy yours, does it?”
Enraged, Vanessa stepped toward her. “Why, you little…”
Alana didn’t budge. “Lay a finger on me and it will be on the front page of every newspaper in Houston tomorrow morning. Pregnant woman beaten up by judge,” she scoffed. “Then, after the press rips you apart, I will sue you for every dime you have.” Vanessa drew back at the pure hatred in Alana’s eyes. She had a lot of nerve. If anything, Vanessa thought, she was the one who should’ve been hating Alana. She was so glad Alana brought up suing. This little girl was trying to make her act a fool. She’d lost her marriage behind her, she wasn’t about to lose her career as well.
“Sweetheart, don’t get it twisted,” Vanessa hissed, leaning in to whisper in her ear. “I will beat your ass now and think about the consequences later.” She straightened up and looked Alana directly in the eye. “However, I’m gonna pass right now, since I’m not in the mood to get my nails dirty. But just so you know, I don’t have to lay a hand on you. I can ruin your life with the stroke of a pen.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Alana said, placing her hands on her hips.
Vanessa smiled as she opened the door to her Mercedes. She wasn’t about to let this dime-store trick push her around. “I can show you better than I can tell you.”
Vanessa got in her car and pulled off. She was boiling mad, but she kept a smile plastered on her face. It was on. Alana had messed with the wrong woman. Before it was all over, that home wrecker was going to wish she’d never laid eyes on Thomas.
Chapter 21
Alana’s face was still front and center in Vanessa’s mind. Since their run-in yesterday, she had been unable to think of anything else. Even now, as she took her spot on the bench, images of Alana clouded her thoughts.
“You may be seated,” Vanessa said to the people in the courtroom who had just been ordered by the bailiff to stand. Shaking off her thoughts of Alana, she grabbed her stack of folders and inwardly groaned as she glanced at the first couple on the agenda.
“Nina Lawson versus Jeffrey Lawson,” she said. “Are both parties ready?”
The couple stood and nodded, each standing on opposite sides of the room.
“Mrs. Lawson, you’re seeking a divorce from your husband of ten years on the grounds of infidelity?” Vanessa fought back the anger building in her stomach. Did every man on the face of the earth cheat?
The woman, dressed in a conservative hunter green suit, nodded. “Mr. Lawson,” Vanessa began, “let’s talk about your infidelity.”
The court clerk loudly cleared her throat. Although no one knew for sure, rumors were running rampant around the courthouse about her divorce with Thomas. Vanessa knew her clerk was trying to remind her not to let her personal feelings overcome her. Vanessa continued, “Did you not care at all about making a vow to your wife? Are you just that low-down that you said screw the commitment I made before God, I’m gonna get mine!”
“Huh?” Jeffrey replied, startled.
“You heard me. You promised to love, honor, cherish, her and only her, then you go out and cheat.”
“Yep, you tell him, Judge!” Nina shouted.
Vanessa ignored Nina’s outburst and continued talking to Jeffrey. “And you want me to have some sympathy for you?”
“But I never cheated,” Jeffrey protested. “She just thinks I did because she’s a paranoid psycho.”
“Yeah, that’s what they all say.” She glanced down at her folder again. “And you have the audacity, the unmitigated gall, to ask that she pay you spousal support?”
Jeffrey looked flabbergasted. “But, Your Honor, we’ve been married ten years and that makes me eligible for support since she’s the one that makes all the money. She’s a celebrity hairstylist, and because she’s on the road so much, I’m the one with the kids all the time. That’s why I think they should stay with me, and she should pay child and spousal support.”
“Oh, because your trifling behind wouldn’t work you want her to provide for you?” Vanessa spat.
“But she wanted me to quit!” Jeffrey insisted. “She said the kids needed a familiar face at home with them. I didn’t want to but since she made more money, it made the most sense.”
“Shut up!” Vanessa ordered. “None of that excuses, or justifies, you going out and cheating on her. If anything, that makes it worse. While she’s out working her behind off, trying to take care of her family, you’re out cheating.”
“But, Your Honor, I did not cheat! And she even started a website called girl don’t dare date him. She has my picture plastered all over the Web.”
“Hmph. Good, maybe it’ll keep another woman from falling victim to your wiles.”
He was ready to say something else, but Vanessa held her hand up to silence him. She then turned to the wife. “Mrs. Lawson, I am sorry that you have had to endure the pain and humiliation caused by your husband. Your divorce is granted. You will retain custody of the children and there will be no order of spousal support. Mr. Mom here needs to get a job within four weeks, at which time I will determine the amount of child support he will need to pay.” She slammed her gavel. “Next case, please.”
Vanessa went through the day granting every divorce that came before her. She knew she was losing a little objectivity, but if she could help these women right the wrongs that had been done to them, she was going to do it.
Still, she was grateful when the day wrapped up. She knew she was letting her emotions get in the way of her judgment. The clerk didn’t even look at her at the end of the afternoon session.
Back in her chambers, she had just removed her robe and was about to relax when her door swung open to reveal Judge Robert Malveaux, the senior judge in the Harris County court system.
“What in the world is wrong with you?”
“Excuse me?” Vanessa said.
He stomped into her office. “The courthouse is abuzz about what’s been going on in your courtroom lately. I ignored the gossip at first, but then decided to peek in on your last case.” He fixed her with a stern look. “Have you gone mad?”
Vanessa recalled her last case. A woman with a violent temper had stabbed her husband when she caught him in bed with her sister. She’d tried to act evenhandedly. “I don’t understand what the big deal was. It was a clear-cut case.”
“What’s clear about attempted murder?”
“It was a crime of passion.” She could tell that he was outraged. In a quieter voice she said, “Besides, I wasn’t hearing an attempted murder case. I was handling the divorce.”
Malveaux, a fifty-something black man with salt-and-pepper hair, huffed at that excuse. “You are not being objective in hearing these cases. You are automatically siding with every woman, regardless of the circumstances. Even the cases where the woman was at fault. You’re granting divorces without any second thought.” He raised his arms, made wide by his black robe. “Are you on some kind of drugs? I can’t believe what I�
��m hearing, or what I saw with my very own eyes.” He came closer and leaned over her desk. “It’s bad enough that you have always been such a proponent of divorce, but now you’re taking things to a whole new level. You’re granting divorces with such callousness, it is not reflective of your commitment to uphold and adhere to the law!”
Vanessa rested her knuckles on her desk and leaned right back at him. “The people elected me. That means I only answer to the people.”
“I’m sure the people would not appreciate you not upholding your responsibility and following the law—”
“But the people can appreciate men who cheat on their wives?”
Malveaux took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. When he began again, his tone was more reasonable. “Vanessa, I understand that you are going through a hard time. It’s no secret what’s happening between you and your husband. That is why I think it’s best that you take a leave of absence.”
Still angry at his accusations, Vanessa began straightening files on her desk. “Nobody asked you to think on my behalf. Of course you’re going to side with these no-good men. I heard you cheat on your wife, too.”
He slapped the desktop loudly, his nostrils flaring. “Number one, my personal business is none of your concern, because unlike you, I don’t let it interfere with any of my work. And number two, I have been happily and faithfully married for nineteen years. I will continue to be faithful,” he thundered. “And if we did have some kind of problem, we would take it to God, not divorce court.”
She’d never seen him so upset, but she also thought he was protesting too much. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Is there anything else I can help you with?” she said dismissively.
Judge Malveaux stared at her, his eyes hard. “I want you to know that I am filing a formal complaint, and I will recommend that you be forced to take a leave of absence until you get yourself together.”
“Whatever,” Vanessa said.
He shook his head, then left out the room. Only then did Vanessa realize that her hatred for Thomas had made her blind to plain old common sense. She rubbed her lower abdomen, which had started cramping on a regular basis. The stress was truly getting to her.
Maybe Judge Malveaux was right. Maybe she did need a break.
Chapter 22
Vanessa forced a smile to fill her face. After her day at work yesterday, she wasn’t in the mood for the pomp and circumstance surrounding the kickoff for the “Revitalize The Mason House” campaign. If she hadn’t already had her office send media releases, she probably would’ve canceled today’s reception. Besides, the kids seemed to really be enjoying the event.
Vanessa’s smile turned genuine as she watched Shelly do the bump with Ronald McDonald. She was giggling and her eyes were filled with joy. It was the first time Vanessa had seen the little girl act like a child. She’d dropped by the center twice since her initial visit, and both times Shelly had sat in a corner quietly writing poetry. They’d talked a little, but Shelly never had much to say.
“Miss Vanessa, did you see Ronald tryin’ to do the Soulja Boy?” Shelly asked, racing over to where Vanessa stood at the back of the room.
“I did,” Vanessa replied, gingerly moving a strand of hair out of Shelly’s eye. “But he didn’t have anything on you. Girl, where’d you learn to dance like that?”
Shelly blushed, but didn’t answer.
“Shelly! Shelly!” Another little girl raced over and pulled Shelly’s arm. “Come on, they just brought Krispy Kreme doughnuts!”
Shelly’s eyes danced with excitement. “Ooooh, my favorite. ’Bye, Miss Vanessa.” She took off with the little girl before Vanessa could say another word.
“Hey, you,” Rosolyn said, walking up to her sister. She looked great in a fitted navy knit suit, her thin braids pulled back into a bun.
“Hey, yourself.” Vanessa ran her eyes up and down her sister’s outfit. “Look at you.”
Rosolyn did a small twist as she spun around. “You like?” Then she became her usual pragmatic self. “It’s not often I get all this media attention. I need to look together. People won’t want to donate their money to a place being run by a run-down-looking old hag.”
Vanessa lightly pushed her sister. “You are not a hag. Old, maybe. Hag, no.”
Rosolyn laughed. “Okay, funny lady. I see you’re hitting it off with Shelly.”
Vanessa looked over at Shelly stuffing a jelly doughnut into her mouth. “She’s sweet. It’s something about her that just gets to me.”
“Yeah, she has that effect on a lot of people. Just not enough for anyone to permanently take her home.” Rosolyn looked around the room with a questioning look. “What time did you tell the press to get here?”
“Ten,” Vanessa said, glancing at her watch, “which is in about fifteen minutes. We’ll have the kids sitting in the first row. I’ll welcome everyone, introduce you. You tell them about The Mason House and then I’ll come back up to talk about our fund-raising efforts. I’ve already gotten Windsor Village United Methodist Church to donate ten thousand dollars. So I’ll use that to jump-start the donations.”
Rosolyn stared at Vanessa, her eyes watering.
“What? Why are you getting all teary-eyed?”
Rosolyn hugged her. “I’m just so thankful. I prayed for a way that we wouldn’t have to shut our doors. I didn’t know God was going to send an answer in the form of my own sister.”
Vanessa squirmed to get away. “Stop it.”
Rosolyn stepped back and dabbed at her eyes. “No, seriously. I know you started this just as a campaign strategy, but I know your heart. You’re really into it now.”
“I am.” Vanessa smiled appreciatively. She saw a motion out of the corner of her eye, and glanced toward the door. “Oh, here’s Channel 26. Let’s get this show on the road. Where’s Dionne? I thought she was coming.”
“She said she was,” Rosolyn replied. “But Roland is taking her to Las Vegas next week, so she said she was going out shopping.”
“Roland?” Vanessa exclaimed. “Are they back together?”
“It looks that way,” Rosolyn groaned.
“I thought she went out with Bruce.” Vanessa sighed as she threw her hands up. “Whatever. It’s her life,” she said, waving at the cameraman. “We have more important things to deal with. Come on.” Vanessa draped her arm through Rosolyn’s. “Let’s go get some people to throw their money your way.”
Chapter 23
“Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.” Vanessa chuckled as she read the blurb of the novel on her secretary’s desk. “Ain’t that the truth?” she said, tossing the novel back down on the desk and making her way into her office. They could’ve interviewed her for that book. It would have definitely been a bestseller then.
Vanessa had pulled herself together to come to work today. She had made it through the reception with no problem, and by day’s end, The Mason House had gotten pledges of almost fifty thousand dollars. By the time she’d made it home, she was exhausted and just wanted to crawl into her bed.
The stress with Thomas was now making her physically sick. Vanessa had started cramping again right after her conversation with him this morning. Before that call she’d actually thought maybe she should chill and just let Thomas and Alana go on about their business. But his call had changed all of that. Vanessa felt her anger rebuilding as she replayed their conversation.
She’d answered the phone even though the caller ID said “private call.”
The line was silent for a few seconds before Thomas said, “Hi. How are you?”
Vanessa huffed. “What do you want, Thomas?” She wasn’t in the mood for niceties. No sense in being fake.
“I just wanted to let you know that my uncle Walter is in the hospital. He had a mild stroke.”
Vanessa felt badly. She liked Thomas’s carefree uncle and hated to hear that something had happened to him. “Is he going to be all right?”
“Yeah, he’s going to be fine.” He coughed to clea
r his throat. “You know, it used to make his day to see us together. I just thought, you know, maybe you’d like to go by and see him with me.”
“And why would I do that?” She let out a disgusted sigh. “Thanks for the update. Now, let us just say good-bye.” She’d find out where Walter was on her own. But there was no way she’d go smiling in Walter’s face, pretending everything was okay.
“Look, Vanessa, things don’t have to be ugly between us,” Thomas said. “We can still be friends.”
“Thomas, you made things ugly the day you cheated on me and got another woman pregnant,” she reminded him. “And for the record, I have enough friends. I don’t need any more, especially lying, cheating, low-down dogs.”
Thomas let out a long groan as if he didn’t want to go down that road again.
“By the way,” Vanessa added, “do you mind telling your little pop-tart to stay the hell away from me?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Her taunting me about ‘taking my man’ is going to get her into a whole lot of trouble,” Vanessa snapped.
He tsked and adopted his totally rational attitude. The one intended to make her feel irrational. “Vanessa, let’s just keep this professional. This is between you and me. You don’t have to make up stuff about Alana. That’s not even her personality.”
Vanessa gripped the phone tightly in her hands. No, he wasn’t taking up for her. “Excuse me?”
“Don’t take this out on Alana,” Thomas continued. “Keep your issues with me. There is no need to make up stories or dog out Alana.”
“Fool, I don’t need to make up stories,” Vanessa said. “Your mistress accosted me at Starbucks and all but threw in my face the fact that she had stolen my husband.”
Thomas let out another groan. “Alana told me all about the incident at Starbucks. From what she told me, it was you who were doing the accosting—and judging by your attitude right now, I believe her.”
Can I Get a Witness? Page 11
