With This Ring

by Allison Hobbs

  “Whatever,” Vangie muttered. Your ass is fired, anyway.

  Jojina flashed her ring again. Vangie walked to the far end of the elevator bank, unable to bear the sight of that ring. It was such a slap in the face that Shawn had refused to make an honest woman out of her—the mother of his child—yet he was ready to settle down with the unemployed, project queen.

  “What’s the problem? Is my bling too bright? Maybe you need to put on a pair of shades to protect your sensitive eyes,” Jojina said mockingly.

  “Oh, she went there! She dead wrong for that,” an onlooker remarked in a laughing tone that encouraged Jojina to continue taunting Vangie.

  “You’re really selfish. Yuri would get a much better education if he lived with us in our nice neighborhood.” Jojina looked over at the group of people waiting for the elevator and directed her next comment to them. “Seriously, though…wouldn’t you think a mother would want what’s best for her child? I swear…some women are so spiteful, they don’t care about what’s best for their kids.”

  There were murmurs of agreement from people whose own domestic squabbles had brought them to Family Court.

  Vangie was sick of listening to Jojina’s mouth. “Why don’t you stop worrying about my son and worry about your own wild-heathen kids?”

  “I’m not worrying about nothing you have to say, hater. You’re just mad because I got everything you want. I got Shawn, a nice home, and in a few months, I’m gonna have a big wedding. Whatchu got? Nothing! Your own son doesn’t even want to be with you. He tells me all the time, that he wishes I was his mother!”

  Vangie couldn’t tolerate any more of Jojina’s insults. It was true that the bitch had Shawn’s nose wide open for some unknown reason, but hearing that Yuri was also under the heifer’s spell pushed Vangie over the edge. “My son would never say any shit like that!”

  “Tell her Shawn; tell her how much Yuri hates going back to her cramped, little apartment!”

  “Shut your lying mouth, bitch!” Raging mad, Vangie stormed toward Jojina.

  It wasn’t that she planned on assaulting Jojina; she was simply acting on impulse. Her feet decided to move in Jojina’s direction, and Vangie didn’t have any control over herself. Within split seconds, she was in Jojina’s face, cursing her out and calling her every raunchy name she could think of. But Vangie was momentarily silenced when a wad of slimy spit landed on her nose and trickled down the side of her face.

  It took a second or two for her to process that Jojina had spit in her face. Incensed, Vangie grabbed a handful of weave-hair and tried her best to rip it out of Jojina’s head, but the hair was sewn in and unyielding. She yanked on the stubborn weave with one hand, causing Jojina to wail. With her other hand, she peppered the woman’s face with a series of blows. “You could never be my son’s mother, you ratchet, welfare bitch!”

  “Get off her, Vangie. Let her hair go,” Shawn shouted, trying to get between the two women. Excitement twinkled in the eyes of the onlookers as they gaped at the unlikely spectacle of a brawl taking place inside the courthouse.

  As if something wild and vicious had taken over her body, Vangie pummeled, scratched and bit her nemesis while Shawn struggled with her to no avail. He couldn’t get Vangie off of his fiancée, and with her hair being pulled out by the roots, Jojina was in too much pain to fight back.

  It took two police officers who happened to step off the elevator to subdue Vangie. Handcuffed and yelling obscenities, Vangie was carted off to jail.

  NIVEA

  An unexpected phone call from her mother had Nivea rattled, and she was at a loss for words.

  “I think it’s time we attempt to repair our broken family,” Denise Westcott said.

  “My family is intact,” Nivea replied petulantly.

  “I want to get to know my grandchild. You can’t deny me that.”

  “You weren’t interested in knowing Mackenzie when you thought Knox might be the father.”

  “We were all under a great deal of duress while waiting for the results of the paternity test, but now that it’s been established that Knox is not the father, I’d like to see this family heal and try to move forward.”

  “How does Courtney feel?”

  “Your sister forgives you.”

  “Does she forgive her husband, too?” Nivea asked snippily.

  “Don’t be crass, Nivea. I’m extending an olive branch. It’s bad enough that I wasn’t there for the birth of my grandbaby…” Denise sighed. “I don’t want to miss out on her entire childhood.”

  “Mother, you’re acting as if I refused to allow you to see my daughter. Dad came to see her; he sees her regularly.”

  “He does? That’s news to me.”

  “He didn’t want you to know that he went against your mandate to ostracize Mackenzie and me—to pretend that we don’t exist.”

  “That’s ridiculous. You were never ostracized, but for the survival of your sister’s marriage, I thought it best that we all kept a distance from you. You know, until we knew for certain whether or not Knox had fathered your child.” Denise paused for a beat and then cleared her throat. “Who is the baby’s father, Nivea? Do you know?”

  “He’s a physician, Mother. A well-off physician.”

  “Is it possible that he’ll make an honest woman of you?” Denise asked, her voice filled with hope.

  Nivea knew her pretentious mother would love the idea of having another doctor for a son-in-law. And it brought a smirk to her lips when she replied, “I’m afraid not. He’s already taken.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “He’s happily married, Mother, and doesn’t care to be involved in Mackenzie’s life.”

  “Oh. Well, that’s his loss, isn’t it?” Denise said, surprising Nivea. Nivea had expected a lecture or a snide comment regarding the perils of dallying with married men. “I’m so anxious to hold my grandbaby. Why don’t you bring her over on Sunday? Dinner’s at five—as usual.”

  “Sorry, I have plans. How about next Sunday?”

  “Our door is always open to you and Mackenzie. I hope to see two very soon.”

  “We’ll be there.” Nivea hung up feeling both devilish and victorious. Bratty Courtney wouldn’t be the center of attention once Mackenzie was introduced to the family. And it would be great fun being around Knox and making him uncomfortable. After she’d exposed her affair with Knox, she’d been treated like a pariah while her family rallied around Knox as if he were a rape victim.

  Her life was steadily improving. She hated to admit it, but it would be nice to see Mackenzie surrounded by and doted on by her grandparents. It probably had taken a lot for her proud mother to swallow her pride and practically beg to see her granddaughter. Perhaps it was time to forgive and forget. As dysfunctional as her family was, Nivea missed them—even spoiled-rotten Courtney.

  VANGIE

  Jail was a scary place. Inside the Police Administration Building, also known as “The Roundhouse,” at Eighth and Race Streets, Vangie was deprived of comforts and basic human needs. She felt dehumanized and disoriented as she waited in the holding cell. Time dragged on and she hadn’t been given a phone call. She desperately wanted to get in touch with her mother to inform her of the outlandish predicament she was in. She repeatedly asked the guards to grant her a phone call, but her requests were ignored.

  While the other women in the holding cell chowed down on the dry cheese sandwiches and guzzled the ice tea that was offered, Vangie pushed the food aside. To her amazement, two women fought over her discarded meal.

  Jail was purgatory, and she had never wanted anything as badly as she wanted to get out of there, go home and hug her son.

  Since the guards wouldn’t give her any information regarding how long she’d be locked up, she began questioning a prostitute who seemed saner than many of the others and seemed to know the ropes. “Do you know how long it takes to get out of here?”

  “Depends on what you’re in for?”

  “F
ighting.” Deep shame washed over Vangie. “Fighting my son’s father’s fiancée.”

  “As long as you didn’t stab or shoot her, or do any major damage, you should get a light bail and be out of here sometime tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow! You mean, I’ll have to stay here overnight?”

  “Hell, yeah. You won’t get to speak to the bail magistrate until sometime tomorrow, and you’ll be talking to him via closed-circuit TV.”

  “Oh, my God. This nightmare just won’t end. Aren’t we supposed to get a phone call?”

  “You’ll get it, eventually. You’re on their time, so you might as well take your shoes off, get comfortable, and find a corner to sleep in.”

  Vangie looked down at the concrete floor. “You’re kidding. They expect us to sleep on the floor?”

  “You’ll get a hard cot in the Philadelphia Prison System if you don’t make bail.”

  “How much is bail…you know, usually?” Vangie didn’t know anything about the prison system.

  “Depends on what the DA asks for. If you don’t have any priors—”

  “I don’t!”

  “Well, you should be all right. Fighting is a simple assault—only a misdemeanor. Your bail will probably be about a couple thousand—maybe less,” said the knowledgeable prostitute. “You only have to post ten percent. But you better get somebody to pay it as soon as your bail is granted. Otherwise, you’ll be put on the next van that’s headed for State Road.”

  State Road was in the far Northeast section of Philadelphia and contained five major prison facilities. Vangie had no intention of going anywhere near State Road. She had a couple thousand left over from the money she’d gotten from Alphonso. All her mother had to do was go to her apartment, get the money, and pay her bail. Vangie wanted to see a light of hope in this tragedy, but couldn’t. She pictured Yuri’s face and was close to tears. Knowing ignorant-ass Shawn, he wouldn’t protect their son’s innocence; he’d allow Jojina to callously tell Yuri that his mother was in jail. Oh, God. Yuri would be traumatized by that information. He’d probably cry himself to sleep and she wouldn’t be there to comfort him.

  Vangie was angry with herself for allowing Jojina to provoke her. That bitch knew exactly how to push her buttons. She should have been arrested, too, though. Spitting in someone’s face could be deadly. For all Vangie knew, Jojina could have HIV. Hmph! She was acting in self-defense when she whipped that bitch’s ass and that’s what she planned on telling the judge. On second thought, she needed to keep quiet and have a lawyer speak for her. She wondered if Clyde Wortham could represent her in this matter. She’d already paid him for absolutely nothing; maybe he could be persuaded to show up for her bail hearing out of a sense of decency and fair play. She’d ask her mother to contact him after she got her phone call.

  When her phone call was finally granted, she could barely keep her emotions together when she heard the familiar sound of her mother’s voice.

  “Mom!” Vangie wailed. “Oh, Mom, I can’t believe they locked me up for defending myself against Shawn’s crazy girlfriend! When they set bail, I’m going to need you to bring a couple hundred dollars, so I can get out. I don’t know what time I’ll have a hearing, but I want you to come down here as soon as possible and pay the money immediately after I see the Magistrate.”

  “Two hundred dollars is a lot of money for a woman who’s living on a fixed income.”

  “Don’t worry about the money, Mom. I have some stashed at my apartment, hidden inside a box of Tampons in my bathroom closet.”

  “I can’t go to your apartment right now, Vangie. I finally got Yuri to go to sleep. He’s been crying for his father for hours.”

  Crying for his father instead of me? “Mom, how did Yuri end up at your house? He’s supposed to be with Shawn.”

  “Shawn called me and told me what happened. He asked me if I could pick Yuri up from school while he went to the hospital with that girl whose tail you decided to whip in court—of all places. What were you thinking, Evangeline?”

  Barbara only used her full name when she was pissed, and Vangie would have tried to placate her if she’d had more time. Hold up; did my mom say Jojina was in the hospital? That dramatic heifer is faking injuries and trying to build a stronger case against me. “Mom, I only have a few minutes—”

  “This is serious,” Barbara cut in. “That girl is getting her head stitched up in several places.”

  “Why!”

  “You ripped out tracks of hair and tore up her scalp. And she’s undergoing a series of shots for all the bite wounds she sustained. What the hell was wrong with you—were you temporarily insane?”

  “Yeah, I guess,” Vangie said, feeling suddenly terrified about the charges she might be facing. “Mom, please go get the money; I want to get out of here as soon as possible.”

  “I’ll get the money in the morning, after I take Yuri to school. You need to sit your behind in jail overnight and get your thoughts together and your priorities in order. You’ve been fighting women over Shawn since you were nineteen years old. It’s time to let go.”

  “I have let go! That fight in court had nothing to do with Shawn. His girlfriend spit in my face. What would you have done if somebody did something that nasty to you?”

  “I would have pressed charges.”

  “That’s bull. You would have reacted exactly as I did. I didn’t plan to fight her, but I snapped when she spit on me. Look, I was only acting in self-defense.”

  “Self-defense or not, I’m too old for all this drama. Do you hear me? You can fight and carry on and act crazy all you want, but you have to leave me out of it!”

  “Okay, Mom, listen…I need a few more favors. I need you to call my job in the morning and tell them I’m sick.”

  “What kind of sick? Should I tell them you have a common cold or are you lying up in the hospital with something serious?”

  “I don’t know. Make up something. After you call my job, can you contact my attorney, Clyde Wortham, and tell him to come to the Roundhouse and represent me at my bail hearing.”

  Vangie’s mother let out a groan. “I can’t believe the requests that are coming out of your mouth. My daughter, whom I know I raised right, is behind bars and needs bail money and a lawyer! Umph, umph, umph! This is pitiful.”

  “Your snide comments aren’t helping the situation. Stay focused, Mom. Please. My attorney’s name is Clyde Wortham, and his office is on Walnut Street. You can find his phone number online.”

  “Hold on while I get a pen,” Barbara said with a heavy sigh.

  To Vangie’s dismay, she was charged with aggravated assault. Wortham didn’t show up, which infuriated her, but giving him benefit of the doubt, he was a Family Law attorney and probably wasn’t comfortable handling a criminal case. She figured since the matter occurred in family court, and he’d personally witnessed the fight, he could explain her side of the story better than someone else. But, oh well…

  She was assigned a disinterested public defender who looked unkempt and disheveled. Her bail was set at $20,000, which meant she had to cough up $2,000. Luckily, she had $2,500 left from the money Alphonso had given her.

  The crowded van ride to State Road was filled with hardcore women. Life had dealt some of the women a bad hand, while others, like Vangie, had made poor choices in the heat of the moment. Handcuffed to a foul-smelling prisoner, Vangie couldn’t sink any lower. She felt trapped in a bad dream that kept getting progressively worse.

  Being locked up at the Philadelphia Industrial Correctional Center was beyond humbling. Thrown in another type of holding tank with a lot of hostile, funky women, she was in a daze. As time passed, the various foul odors that clung to the women began to have the effect of smelling salts, bringing Vangie out of her stupor and making her painfully aware of her terrible circumstances.

  Several hours later, she was issued a wristband with her name, a thumbnail picture of her mug shot, and a PID number. Jesus! Where was her mother? If she didn’t hu
rry up, Vangie would be decked out in an orange jumpsuit and marched to a cell and locked inside with some big, dyke bitch who could have her way with her throughout the day and all night long. Oh, God, help me!

  After about twelve hours, she was allowed to make a collect call. “What’s going on; why haven’t you bailed me out of here, Mom? It’s not like you have to spend your own money! I don’t understand why I’m still in here!”

  “Who do you think you’re yelling at? Don’t raise your voice to me, Evangeline. I took the money down to the courthouse on Filbert Street, and they said you weren’t processed yet. I waited for six hours, and after that, I couldn’t stand around in that horrible place any longer.”

  “So you just walked out and left me in here to rot?”

  “Did you expect me to spend the night at the courthouse, waiting for you to be processed?”

  “Yes! You have no idea what I’m going through.”

  “I understand what I was going through. I was standing on my bad feet in a crowded room full of all sorts of lowlife heathens for hours and hours. I had the best of intentions, but I’m not a martyr, Vangie. Once I saw people starting to find spaces on the floor to camp out, I knew it was time to take my ass on home. I’ll go back first thing in the morning, but you can’t expect me to wait through the night.”

  “Mom, you can’t leave me in here any longer. Please! You have to go back and pay the bail.”

  “I’m in my bed, where I belong, and there’s not a chance in hell I’m going back to that hellish place—not tonight.”

  Realizing that Barbara wasn’t going to budge, Vangie asked how Yuri was holding up.

  “He’s was grinning from ear to ear when his father came and picked him up.”

  Vangie sighed audibly. “After you post bail, I’m going to need you to drive up to State Road and pick me up. My car is still at the parking lot near Family Court.”