Trouble Loves Company

by Angie Daniels

  She sucked her two front teeth. “I didn’t know he was messing with Peaches. I seen them talkin’ a couple times, but I never put two and two together ’til I saw that tape. I remember dropping by his little home away from home—that’s what he called it—and saw all these cars out front. Girl, he was having this party. It was on a weekend he told me he was going fishing. I thought a couple of those cars looked familiar, but before I could get inside, Leroy met me on the porch and told me he and his wife were entertaining and I had to leave. It wasn’t until after the video that I realized that raggedy Ford Escort parked out on the curb had belonged to Peaches.”

  So that explained the fishing trips. He was entertaining a bunch of gays.

  Veronica shook her head as she applied polish to her toes. “Tracy, you’re a better woman than me ’cause there ain’t nothing a fag can do for me.”

  Danielle splashed her feet in the warm water. “I heard Leroy wasn’t workin’ with much.”

  “Shoot, that man might not be working with much, but he could lay it on you. And he could eat some good pussy.”

  Danielle laughed along with her, then gave her a high five. “I know that’s right. I’m surprised his wife didn’t have the po-po knocking down your door.”

  Her eyes grew round and wide like she thought she knew something she didn’t. “Girl, they came, and I told them all about my relationship with Leroy, then I gave them my alibi. I was in St. Louis kickin’ it wit’ my girls. There’s this new club called The Loft that is off the hook.”

  The bell over the door rang and Danielle’s cousin Nina came through the door. As soon as she spotted her, she went over to where she was sitting.

  “Whassup, cuz? I heard about your girl being arrested. Y’all get her out on bail yet?”

  Danielle swallowed and tried to give her cousin the signal to shut the hell up. “Yeah, she’s out.”

  Curious, Tracy looked from Danielle to Nina. “What friend?”

  Before she could respond, Nina answered for her. “Kayla, you know, the one they think killed that minister.”

  Quickly, Danielle rose and removed her feet from the soaking water. It was time to go.

  “Oh hell, nah! You been sittin’ here all this time shooting the shit wit’ me so you could go back and tell yo’ friend?”

  “Yep,” Danielle replied without hesitation. “I’m tryin’ to clear my girl’s name.”

  “Your girl killed my man.”

  “She didn’t kill him, but someone did. I was tryin’ to find out what else you knew ’bout him.”

  “All I know is that my man is dead and yo’ girl’s big, fat ass killed him. I hope she rots in that jail.” Her neck rocked as she spoke.

  Tired of listening to her talk bad about Kayla, Danielle reached out and snatched the wig from her head, then headed toward the door. Tracy started cussing and screaming, but Danielle ignored her fake ass and kept right on going.

  Chapter 37

  Renee

  I went over to catch Deacon Williams at work. He owns a small copy shop near campus. I knew him from back in the day. He and my grandfather had been really good friends, and Big Mama used to be a very active member of their congregation.

  I parked my rental in the lot next to a blue VW Bug with a sticker on the back window that read, he is the answer. I strolled inside the air-conditioned building and glanced around at the rows of copy machines. By the summer traffic in the lobby, I could tell business was definitely good. I walked to the desk, asked if Deacon Williams was in, and was escorted to his office in the back. The second he saw me, his beady brown eyes sparkled with laughter. “Well, if it isn’t little Nae-Nae. I haven’t seen you in years.” He came from around the desk and hugged me.

  “It’s good seeing you, too. How are the twins?” I asked, referring to his albino-looking daughters.

  “Fine, fine. Please, have a seat.” He sat behind his desk and pointed to a group photograph on the end. “We took this last year. That’s Norita’s two children and those are Cappy’s.”

  Good Lord, three generations of ugliness. They definitely took after their mother because for an ol’ head, Deacon Williams wasn’t half bad. Salt-and-pepper curls, paper-bag-brown skin, and a tall, medium build.

  “What can I do for you?” he asked, getting right to the point.

  I cleared my throat and tried to put on my most pitiful expression. “I’m sorry about Reverend Brown. I was told the two of you were very close.”

  “Thank you,” he replied with a solemn nod. “His death was a shock to all of us. But he’s in a better place now.”

  “The reason why I’m here is that Kayla Sparks is my best friend.” I watched his face change. “Please, hear me out.”

  He took a deep breath, then nodded grimly.

  “I’ve known Kayla for years and so have you. She was a member of your church for over a decade before your boy preyed on her vulnerability. Now she’s being accused of murdering him and I’m trying to do everything I can to help clear her name,” I explained.

  Deacon Williams fingered his mustache as he spoke. “I believe everyone is innocent until proven guilty, but in this case, I prefer not to take sides. Instead, I’m leaving it in the hands of the Lord.”

  “Sorry if I can’t do that. I know Reverend Brown was messing around with both women and men.” He squirmed at that bit of information.

  “Listen, I wish you all the best in helping your friend, but I prefer not to discuss Reverend Brown’s extramarital affairs because they are all lies.”

  “Lies?” I gave a quick short laugh. “Didn’t you see the videotape?”

  “Yep, and it was a fake, just like the one that framed R. Kelly.”

  Oh, he was definitely touched in the head.

  “Listen, all I want to know is who else was he messing with?”

  “How would I know?”

  “Because you were ’posed to be with him on those alleged fishing trips.”

  “Young lady, you’re on a goose hunt,” he replied impatiently.

  “I don’t think so. I’m curious about those fishing trips the two of you took.”

  He glanced down at his watch. “What about them?”

  “Was he really going fishing with you, or were you just covering for him and his gay parties?”

  He looked vaguely amused. “He and I were fishing.”

  I frowned. “Then how was it that three weeks ago he forgot his tackle box?”

  Deacon Williams hesitated for a moment and refused to meet my gaze as he wiped beads of sweat from his forehead. “We shared mine,” he retorted defensively. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a lot of work to do.” He sprang to his feet and so did I.

  “I don’t believe you. I think he was meeting some woman or man and you covered for him—unless, of course, the two of you were involved.”

  He was practically foaming at the mouth. “I bet your grandmother is turning in her grave. What Leroy chose to do when he wasn’t in the pulpit was his business and he’ll have to answer to God for that. Now, if you’d excuse me.”

  I walked back to my rental car. His ass was lying, and I was going to find out why.

  Chapter 38

  Danielle

  Danielle pulled into her parents’ driveway. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and prayed for the strength to go through with what she was about to do, then climbed out and went inside.

  “Hey, Mama.”

  Victoria turned around, a hand on her hip, and glared. “About time you got your narrow behind over here. I don’t know what’s gotten into you.”

  She groaned. This was the reason why she had suggested to her mother that Portia come over to the house to talk, but no, her mother refused to let her grandbaby out of her sight until she was sure everything had been squared away between the two of them.

  “Mama, that’s why I’m here now,” Danielle whined as she sank into a seat at the table.

  “But it shouldn’t have taken you this long. That’s your d
aughter in the other room. Your flesh and blood. You never turn your back on your child for a piece of meat, because thugs come a dime a dozen.”

  “He’s changed,” she replied defensively. “Ron has a job now and even gave me money to help pay the bills.”

  “Whoopty-do.” She pointed a fork at Danielle. ‘That’s because he’s trying to get back in your good graces. Once he starts getting comfortable again, then everything is gonna change, mark my word.”

  “Mom, I didn’t come over here for this.”

  “Just answer one question for me. How could you take the word of some lowlife over the words of your own daughter? Huh?”

  “Mom, you and I both know that Portia lies all the time to get attention. I can’t separate fact from fiction with that girl. Just last month she was accusing a college student of raping her.”

  “And as her mother, it was your job to stand by her. Now, hear me out. That’s what mothers are for. We fight our children’s battles. We try to protect them from harm.” She paused long enough to take a seat across from her. “Do you remember that yellow man your Aunt Donna used to date?”

  Danielle nodded.

  The minute you told me that sleezy bum put his hand under your skirt, I went upside his head with a skillet. I didn’t go asking questions, because there wasn’t a damn thing to think about.”

  Danielle never forgot “Uncle David.” He was a fabulous piano player. Every time she visited Aunt Donna, Danielle would sit on the bench beside him and watch his fingers glide across the keys. One afternoon he decided to teach her how to play “Chopsticks.” Danielle skipped over to the bench in her new pleated skirt and patent leather shoes and sat beside him. He showed her the first two bars and it wasn’t long before she had it down pat. Next thing she knew, he was telling her how beautiful she was and sliding his hand up her knee. Her mother had taught her as a child that if a man, no matter if he was even her “damn daddy,” touched her in a way that made her feel uncomfortable, to come and tell her. The second his hand slid across her crotch, she sprang from the bench and into the kitchen, where her mother was picking collard greens.

  Blinking, Danielle returned to the present and gazed over at her mother’s determined face. “Mama, I know what you’re saying, but if I was to jump every time Portia cried wolf, I’d be in jail.”

  “I’m not saying come out swinging, but side with your daughter until you discover the truth. Men come and go, but your children are forever.”

  “Mom, I just don’t know.”

  “Then you’d better figure it out quick, because the longer it takes you, the harder it’s going to be to mend the mess between y’all.” She shook her head. “Your daughter’s been over here crying her eyes out while you’ve been over there entertaining. I thought I raised you better than that. How would you have felt if I had turned my back on you the first time you got pregnant?”

  “I wasn’t...” She stopped short when her mother glared at her, then suddenly remembered a time in her life she had tried to block from her mind. How quickly we forget. She had just turned sixteen when she had discovered she was pregnant by her boyfriend of three months. Ryan Jackman was her first. Danielle thought he would stand by her, but instead he dumped her, claiming the baby wasn’t his. She had waited six weeks before she finally broke down and told her mother she was pregnant. Instead of screaming and hollering, her mother had pulled her into her arms and said, “We all make mistakes.” Her mother told her whatever she decided about the baby, she would stand by her. She didn’t want it but couldn’t see depositing the embryo at the nearest Planned Parenthood, either. After weeks of praying to the Lord for guidance, she started spotting and eventually miscarried.

  “You have allowed yourself to stray too far from the church. Have you even bothered getting down on your knees and asking the Lord for help?”

  “No,” she mumbled.

  Clearly disappointed, Victoria shook her head. “See, that’s the problem. Any Christian woman wouldn’t have dreamed of choosing a man over her only child. Now march your butt right down that hall and make things right!”

  Danielle went down the hall to her daughter’s room. Growing up, the room had belonged to her. Portia was curled up on the bed with her headphones on, sound asleep. As she watched her, Danielle’s heart softened. She remembered all of the nights she had strolled into her daughter’s room to tuck her into bed long after she was asleep. Danielle watched her for what felt like forever before she took a seat on the end of the bed, then tapped Portia lightly on the arm. “Portia, wake up.”

  Disoriented, Portia mumbled something Danielle didn’t understand before she shot up straight against the headboard. Her eyes were wide with surprise that quickly changed to fear. “Hey,” she finally said.

  Danielle briefly closed her eyes. Lord, please forgive me for striking my child. She believed in discipline, but the last thing she had ever wanted was for Portia to be afraid of her.

  “How have you been feeling?” When she reached up to brush a strand of hair away from her face, Portia flinched before she relaxed.

  “I’ve been okay,” she replied weakly.

  She nodded. “Don’t forget you have an appointment next week with the gynecologist. We’ll get to see how far along you are.” Danielle lowered her hand and sighed. “I guess I need to be getting the spare room ready for my grandbaby.”

  Portia’s eyes grew round with surprise at the smile on her mother’s lips, and a single tear rolled down her cheek.

  Danielle’s own eyes swam. She pulled her daughter into her arms and held her while they both cried. “I’m sorry,” she whispered near her ear. “I’ll never put my hands on you again.”

  Sniffling, Portia eased out of her arms. “No, Mama. I’m not mad at you. I’ve been giving you a hard time lately. If it was my daughter, I would have knocked her out a long time ago.” Shrugging, she continued. “I don’t know why I do the things I do.”

  Danielle patted her back lovingly, then slowly dropped her hand. “I just wished that you would try to work with me. I love you, Portia, and I want you to know that if there is something or someone bothering you, you can come to me.”

  “Okay, Mama.”

  Reaching over, she grasped her daughter’s hand, then took a deep breath. “Right now, I need you to tell me the truth. No matter how you answer, I won’t get mad.”

  Portia nodded. “Okay.”

  Danielle swallowed hard and asked the most difficult question of her life. “Is Ron the father of yo’ baby?” she asked, although deep down, she already knew the answer.

  Her bottom lip quivered, then heavy tears flooded her cheeks. After a moment, Portia nodded. “Yes.” She started crying hard. “Mama, I’m so sorry. I know it was wrong, but he was so nice to me and made me feel so pretty. It only happened once. I swear!”

  The pain of the truth was like a knife to her heart. She pursed her lips to keep from crying again and held out her arms. Portia threw herself against her and held on tightly. Danielle’s heart started to pound fast. She couldn’t believe this was happening. But this was her baby and if she didn’t stand by her, who would?

  “I believe you. But if I’m going to put him out, I have to have something to make him stop lying to me.”

  Portia looked at her with sad, confused eyes. “Something like what?”

  Danielle swallowed. She still couldn’t believe what she was about to ask, but she didn’t have much choice. “What’s his thing look like? If you can tell me that, I can catch him in a lie.” Deep down, Danielle knew she needed something else to back up her daughter’s story.

  Portia sat there for the longest time, wringing her hands together, and Danielle could tell she was uncomfortable with the question, but she had to know.

  “Well... he has that skin on his thing.” Her words were barely above a whisper but loud enough for her mother to hear, nevertheless. Danielle sat there for the longest time, stunned as the truth had finally sunk in.

  “Pack yo’ things. I�
��ll be by to pick you up in the morning. Right now, I’ve got some business to take care of.”

  Portia looked scared. “Please, Mama. I don’t want to get Ron in trouble. I-I let him touch me.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” she said reassuringly. “You are a kid and Ron’s a grown-ass man. You can’t consent to shit.” Pissed as hell, Danielle rose. “I’ll see you later.” From this point on, the only part Ron would ever play in her life would be through the blood of her grandbaby.

  Chapter 39

  Kayla

  Kayla swallowed thickly, but the frog in her throat refused to budge. “I love you, Kenya.”

  “I love you, too, Mommy.”

  She was choking with tears when she lowered the phone to the cradle. Kayla slowly crossed the living room, her arms folded across her chest for comfort. Things weren’t looking too good. She didn’t have an alibi for the time after Jermaine left her house until Leroy’s body was found. She was so scared that she was going to spend the rest of her life in jail, she had called her mom in Birmingham and asked her to bring the girls back so she could spend as much time with them as she possibly could.

  Kayla glanced around with a look of despair. She had met with her lawyer this morning, then dropped by her house to pick up her mail and spend a few moments in her own home alone. Jermaine was against the idea and would have a fit when he found out, but it was something she felt she needed to do. Afraid there were still reporters lurking in the corners, she had parked around the corner and snuck in through the back. The first thing she did was retrieve her cell phone that was left when the police carted her away. She checked her voice mail messages and instantly, she wished that she hadn’t. Murderer, homewrecker, and fat slut were just a few of the obscenities. Appalled, angry, and wounded, she didn’t even bother listening to the next seventeen messages. The mail was just as bad. Letters with no return addresses, threatening her life and the welfare of her children. Sinking to the couch, Kayla cried softly. What in the world was she going to do? She was touched that Nadine and Renee were taking care of her legal expenses. And extremely grateful they had retained one of the sharpest lawyers in the city, especially when her own life and freedom were at stake. But her legal representation was the least of her worries. If only she could say the same about the rest of her life.