Can I Get a Witness?

by ReShonda Tate Billingsley

  “Can I go talk to her?” Vanessa said.

  “You can try, but like I said, she goes into a shell. It usually takes her a couple of hours before she comes out.”

  Vanessa decided to take her chances. She walked out to the back courtyard where she saw Shelly sitting up against a tree. She had her poetry book open. Vanessa eased up behind her, looked over her shoulder, and read the title. “‘The Unwanted Butterfly’?”

  Shelly didn’t look up at her, nor did she close the poetry book. Vanessa eased down next to Shelly. “I could write a poem like that myself,” she said. “My mom and dad left me, too.” Shelly looked at her like she was trying to gauge if Vanessa was being truthful.

  “They died when I was a little girl. I used to always wonder why God would take my parents away from me.”

  “I wonder that, too,” Shelly softly said. “I also wonder why He can’t find me a family.”

  “You know, there are a lot of things we don’t have answers for. We just have to trust God,” Vanessa said, surprising herself with those words. She’d do well, she thought grimly, to listen to her own advice.

  “I just hate it,” Shelly mumbled.

  “Hate what?”

  “LaTonya said they might as well keep my bed empty because I’d be back. She told me nobody would want me. She said nobody over ten gets to leave The Mason House. Now, I have to go back in there and listen to the ‘I told you so’s.’” She pouted.

  “You just tell LaTonya that God has something better in store for you.”

  “LaTonya don’t care nothing about God,” Shelly huffed. At the thought of her upcoming humiliation, she stood up. “I gotta go.”

  “I’ll see you later, okay?” Vanessa called out after her. “I’m going to keep on coming, Shelly, do you hear?” Shelly didn’t turn around as she continued inside.

  Chapter 37

  Dionne felt like a stalker. Who was she kidding? She was a stalker. She crouched down in the front seat of her Maxima, pulled the gray hood further up on her head, and adjusted her sunglasses. She’d been sitting outside of Roland’s apartment for two hours now. She wanted desperately to just go up and knock on his door, but she’d tried that last week and he wouldn’t answer.

  Dionne’s heart jumped when she saw Roland toss his duffel bag over his shoulder and head out of his front door. He was dressed in his workout clothes, and he looked better than ever. It had been three weeks since he walked out of her life and it felt like three years. He was so angry, he’d even changed his phone numbers. So Dionne had no choice but to stalk him in order to get him to talk to her.

  Roland walked down the steps to his car, popped open the trunk, and tossed his duffel bag in.

  Dionne started her car and waited for him to pull out. When he did, she followed, staying a safe distance behind. She caught a glimpse of herself in the rearview mirror. If anything, she thought wearily, she was probably drawing more attention to herself with the dark glasses and the hoodie. But at this point, she didn’t care. All that mattered was getting her man back.

  Dionne pulled into the 24 Hour Fitness parking lot and watched to see where Roland parked his Escalade. She waited until he went inside, then pulled her car into an empty spot in the same row. She settled in to wait, knowing it would be at least an hour before Roland came out.

  She tried to listen to some music, but it seemed like every song they played was a love song, so she cut the radio off.

  She waited patiently until she finally saw Roland making his way out of the gym about an hour and a half later. Dionne jumped out of her car and raced over to block his path. “Roland, can we talk?”

  He let out a disgusted sigh and kept walking. “There ain’t nothing for us to talk about. Go talk to my wife.” He continued toward his car and Dionne scurried to catch up.

  “Roland, you have to give me a chance to explain. I mean, you had done me so wrong. I was in pain—I was hurting and I wanted you to hurt the way I was.”

  “Well, now we’re even. Holla.” He pulled out his key and hit the button to disable the alarm on his truck.

  “I forgave you.”

  He stopped and spun around to face her. “Then you’re a fool. Because I’m only goin’ to give a woman one time to stab me in the back, and babe, you plunged the knife deep.” He leveled a warning finger at her. “So let me spell this out for you. Leave. Me. The. Hell. Alone. It’s nothing you can say, will ever be able to say, to make me change my mind.”

  Dionne’s lips quivered. “How can you be so cold? I thought you loved me.”

  He licked his lips and let out a slight chuckle. “I did. That’s why I can be so cold. You know better than anyone I don’t toss the word ‘love’ around too much. When I say it, I mean it. Now I wish I had never said it. Never felt it. Maybe then your betrayal wouldn’t hurt me the way it did.” He paused, inhaling deeply. “You just don’t get it, Dionne. Do you want to know why I never told you I loved you before?”

  Dionne stared at him, blinking back the tears. She couldn’t answer him.

  “It’s because I did. And it scared the hell out of me, because the only other woman I ever loved was my wife and she hurt me beyond imagination. You think I cheated on my wife. Well, I did. But only after I caught her cheating on me,” he said scornfully. “And I know you’re wondering about Tasha. I broke it off with Tasha when I got married. I only went back to her when I found out my wife was cheating. But I wasn’t in love with Tasha. She took whatever I gave her. I kept her around because she was okay with that. Or at least she made me believe she was. When she started making demands, I said, if I’m going to be committed to anyone, it’s going to be the one woman who has my heart. And that woman was you, Dionne.” He headed for the truck again, agitated. “I didn’t want to say I love you because I didn’t want to feel it. Then when I came back to you, I had decided to take another chance on love.” He laughed bitterly. “So I guess that makes me the fool after all.”

  “Roland…”

  “Save it, Dionne. I’m done. I’ll say this as nicely as I can. You don’t want me now—you thought I was a dog before? Babe, you ain’t seen nothing yet.” He flashed a smug look as he got into his truck.

  Dionne watched as he pulled off.

  She stumbled back to her car, her heart aching. She fumbled with the key trying to get the door open, then again trying to insert the key in the ignition. When the keys fell under the gas pedal, Dionne buried her head in her arms on the steering wheel and gave in to devastating sobs. Her romantic dreams were over and this time she had no one to blame but herself.

  Chapter 38

  Vanessa hugged the toilet as another wave of nausea rushed over her. After she threw up—for the third time today—she stood up and stumbled toward the bathroom sink. She turned on the faucet, grabbed a face towel, wet it, then wiped her face down. She could no longer keep fooling herself. She had to go to the doctor. Of course, her first thought was maybe she was pregnant. But she quickly shook that off. She couldn’t be pregnant. God wouldn’t be that cruel, would He?

  Vanessa felt a lump form in her throat as she made her way back into the living room. Her house was eerily quiet. She found herself longing to hear that annoying humming Thomas always used to do. She grabbed the cordless phone and collapsed on the couch. She needed someone there to take care of her, call the doctor for her, fix her soup. Instead, she was all alone.

  Vanessa punched in her gynecologist’s office number. After explaining to the receptionist that she just had to get in today, she got an appointment for two-thirty.

  Good, she thought, pushing the End button on her phone. That meant she could get a couple more hours’ sleep. She quickly called Rosolyn, begged her to drive her to the doctor, and when she agreed, fell back onto the bed.

  The sound of the alarm on her cell phone woke Vanessa up just after noon. She had been hoping to feel better, but she actually felt worse. Now, in addition to the nausea, she had horrible cramps, and her head was pounding again.

&
nbsp; Vanessa sat up on the edge of her bed, then jumped up and raced to the bathroom when another wave of nausea hit her.

  “Dear God, please don’t let me be pregnant,” she muttered after dry-heaving for about ten minutes.

  Vanessa didn’t know how she managed to get dressed, but when her doorbell rang at one-thirty, she was ready to go.

  “Oh, my goodness,” Rosolyn said, eyeing her sister. “You look horrible.”

  “Thanks,” Vanessa said, dragging herself over to the bar to get her purse. “The bad part is, I look better than I feel. Let’s go.”

  They arrived at the doctor’s office with ten minutes to spare. Vanessa slept for most of the ride over. She fidgeted in the chair as she waited for the nurse to call her name.

  “Vanessa Colton-Kirk,” the nurse finally said.

  Vanessa stood. “That’s me.”

  “The doctor will see you now.” Vanessa followed the nurse back, and after doing the usual weigh-in and blood pressure check, she waited on the high padded reclining examining table for her doctor.

  “Well, hello, Vanessa.” Dr. Roman flashed a smile as he walked into the room. Dr. Roman was a handsome George Clooney–looking type who had the personality to match his looks, which was why his appointment book stayed full.

  “Hi, Doctor,” Vanessa wearily responded.

  “What seems to be the problem?” he asked, eyeing her chart.

  “What’s not the problem?” Vanessa replied. “I’m nauseous, having severe pelvic pain, and I have headaches out of this world. I think the headaches and cramping may be caused by stress, because I’ve been going through serious personal problems, but the nauseous feeling, I just don’t know.”

  He nodded, continuing to read her chart. “Any chance you could be pregnant?” He didn’t look up. If he had, he would have seen Vanessa flinch.

  “I guess there’s a chance. I mean, I’m on the patch, but I did go a week without it.”

  He looked up at her, shooting a look as if to say “you know better.” “Let me take a quick look.” He washed his hands, then slipped on a pair of gloves.

  Vanessa lay back as he flicked a light at her eyes, listened to her heart, then gently pushed and prodded her abdomen. She closely watched his expression, but it revealed nothing. “Okay,” he said, “let’s get a blood test.” He handed her a slip of paper to take to the lab. “We’ll expedite this, so you come back in here after they draw your blood.”

  Vanessa nodded as she hopped off the edge of the examining table. “I’ll see you in a bit, then.”

  An hour passed before Dr. Roman walked back into the examining room. Vanessa had been about to lose her mind. The waiting was driving her crazy.

  “Well?” she asked before the doctor stepped all the way in the room.

  “Well, I’m not sure if this is good news or bad news.”

  Vanessa held her breath.

  “You’re not pregnant.”

  She closed her eyes and released a heavy sigh. “Thank you, Jesus,” she muttered.

  “I guess that’s good news,” he said. “However, we can’t go thanking Jesus just yet. I’m concerned because your blood pressure is very low. And during your examination I felt what I believe are fibroids. Have you ever been told you have them?”

  “Fibroids?” Vanessa asked, horrified by the sound of them. “No. I don’t know much about them, and I definitely didn’t know I had them.”

  “Well, it appears you do. Usually, we don’t worry about them, but yours are large enough to cause concern. I’ll need to take a closer look.”

  “Are they cancerous?” she asked, dreading the answer.

  “No, fibroids are benign, but yours appear to be the size of a grapefruit, which would explain your pelvic pain. And so we need to take a closer look.”

  Vanessa sighed thankfully. She wasn’t pregnant and she didn’t have cancer. Anything else she would deal with happily.

  Chapter 39

  Dionne silently cursed her blank computer screen. She could not believe that she’d opened that stupid attachment. But it had come from Melanie’s email address, so she didn’t think anything of it.

  She should’ve known Melanie wouldn’t send an attachment called “Life Is Beautiful.”

  The ringing phone caused her to put her panic on pause. She snatched up the phone when she saw Melanie’s number on the caller ID.

  “Melanie, did you send me an email called ‘Life Is Beautiful’?” she said hurriedly.

  “Huh? Calm down. What are you talking about? I’ve been at the mall all day. I haven’t been on my computer.”

  “Oh, my God.” Dionne groaned as she watched her computer screen flicker. “I got an email from your address with an attachment. I opened it up and now my computer is going crazy.”

  “Dionne, you know I don’t forward that stuff. And what about your virus protection?”

  “I don’t have it.” She groaned again. “It expired and I didn’t have the money to update it.”

  “Dang, girl,” Melanie said. “Well, what is your computer doing?”

  “It flashed a message that said, ‘Life is no longer beautiful,’ then my screen started going crazy.” She wanted to scream in frustration. “I cannot believe this. My résumé, everything is on here.”

  “Dionne, first unplug it,” Melanie suggested.

  Dionne reached down and yanked the cord out of the wall. The computer screen went black.

  “Do you know somebody who can figure this out?” Melanie asked.

  Bruce immediately popped into Dionne’s mind. Nothing like an IT guy at your fingertips, she thought. “Let me call you back, Mel.” She hung up before her friend could respond and quickly scrolled through her phone to find Bruce’s number. They’d talked a few times since she and Roland broke up. She’d told him what happened but declined his offer for another date.

  Thirty minutes later, Bruce was standing on her doorstep.

  “Oh, thank goodness you’re here,” she said, holding the door wide open.

  “Your knight has arrived.” He chuckled.

  “I am so happy to see you,” she said, shutting the door behind him. “Please tell me you can save my computer.”

  “What’s wrong with it?”

  “I don’t know. I think I have a virus. I opened an attachment called ‘Life Is Beautiful,’ and my computer went crazy.”

  The smile dropped off his face. “So I guess you didn’t see on the news about that being the new super virus, and that whatever you do you shouldn’t open it?”

  “I don’t watch the news,” she huffed as she led him upstairs to her bedroom, where she kept her computer.

  “Well, it’s pretty serious. It wipes out everything and completely destroys your hard drive. But let me take a look and see if I can fix it.”

  “Please, try. My book is on there.” Dionne hadn’t told anyone but Bruce that she was working on a novel. She hadn’t even told Roland because she didn’t want anyone laughing at her. But Bruce hadn’t laughed. He’d encouraged her to get it finished.

  “Well, we can’t have that,” Bruce said. “Your book is the next great American novel, so we’ve got to retrieve it.”

  “I will be eternally grateful.”

  His eyes lit up. “That’s a deal.”

  Dionne went to get a glass of milk to settle her nerves while Bruce went to work on the computer. It took him twenty minutes of tinkering with its metallic-looking innards before he walked back in the living room pointing two fingers at his chest.

  “Am I the man or what?”

  “You got it fixed?” she squealed. When he nodded, she jumped up and threw her arms around his neck. He felt firm and muscular, and she was surprised at the sudden sexual tension that rippled through her body. She pulled away, not knowing where that feeling was coming from. She didn’t like Bruce like that.

  He seemed pretty happy about it. “Yeah, the virus had pretty much destroyed everything on your system, but I was able to go in and quarantine it. I saved a
lmost everything.”

  “I owe you big-time.”

  He hesitated a beat, before saying, “Then come with me to my fraternity’s ball next weekend.”

  “You’re in a fraternity?”

  “I sure am.” He threw up his sign.

  Dionne chuckled. “Wow, I never would’ve taken you for a frat guy.”

  “A lot of people underestimate me,” he said, his tone turning serious. “But it’s all good. I like people not being able to figure me out. Thinking one thing about me”—he lightly licked his lips—“and then finding out something totally different.”

  “Ooooh, a man of intrigue,” Dionne said. She was just about to accept his invitation when she remembered her burgeoning belly. She quirked her lips and turned away. “I’m not going to be able to go to the dance with you.”

  “I thought you said you were eternally grateful,” he joked. “And you told me all about your breakup, so I don’t have to worry about hammering anybody,” he added, playfully flexing his muscles.

  “I am grateful,” she allowed, “and no, you wouldn’t have to hammer anyone. Me and Roland are finished.” She didn’t add that she still hoped they’d find some way to get back together.

  Dionne debated over what to say next. She finally decided she needed to let him know about the pregnancy—it was only so much longer she could wear these big shirts. Plus, she decided, that way he wouldn’t get any ideas about them being together and they could just be friends.

  “Let’s sit and talk for a minute,” Dionne said.

  Her firm voice caused an apprehensive look to cross Bruce’s face. He followed her to the sofa.

  “As you know, I just got out of a relationship,” she said, and he nodded. “Well, the thing you don’t know is…I-I’m pregnant.”

  The twinkle in Bruce’s eye faded. “Pregnant?” He eyed her stomach, then caught himself and quickly tried to cover the disappointment in his voice. “I noticed you looked a little, ummm, fuller. I just thought you put on a little weight.”