Wellington also received another nice sweater from Mrs. Tanner, a Raiders cap and scarf from Robert, and a crystal heart with a two-by-two inch square mirror plate from Jada. He knew Jada had an explanation he probably wouldn’t get. “It’s almost ten; we’d better get going. Darius, put on your jacket. Go give your mom a kiss for me and tell her you’ll be back by six.”
“Okay, Daddy.” Darius zipped and came back. “I’m ready!”
No return message from Jada. Why did Wellington feel as if he’d done something wrong? Wellington cruised back to Simone’s place.
“Daddy, where were you this morning?” Darius asked.
Wellington looked in his rearview mirror. “Stop kicking the back of the seat. I was at Simone’s, son.” Darius handsomely wore the blue fleece outfit Wellington had given him before Christmas.
“Is Simone and Mommy friends?”
“No, son. They’re not.”
Darius kicked the seat again, then stopped. “Daddy, what’s a home wrecker?”
“Whoa, you’re too young for that conversation, fella.”
“Do you still love Mommy?”
“Of course I do.” Wellington turned and glimpsed at Darius.
Darius leaned forward. “Do you still love me?”
“What kind of question is that? I will always love you.” Wellington looked at his son again.
Darius sat back and asked with teary eyes, “Did I do something wrong, Daddy?”
“I don’t know. Did you?” Wellington’s forehead wrinkled as he exited Interstate 680 into Danville.
“I think I made Mommy sad, because when I walk into the room, her eyes don’t light up no more.”
Wellington took a deep breath and pulled into the nearest gas station. He sat in the back of his four-by-four with Darius. “Mommy just has a lot on her mind, and it has nothing to do with you.” Taking his time, Wellington talked and listened intently, giving Darius his undivided attention.
“I’m holding in my tears because Grandpa Robert said crying is for sissies and girls.” Darius blinked repeatedly.
“Son, there’s a big difference between crying and being a crybaby. Everybody’s got to cry. And it’s okay to cry sometimes; just don’t cry all the time.” Once Wellington had answered all of Darius’s questions, he dried Darius’s eyes and changed the subject before he became emotional, too. “Let me see your muscle pose,” he said as he returned to the driver’s seat.
Darius grunted, balled up his fists, and threw up his arms.
“That’s my boy.” Wellington drove off and said, “You’re going to need that strength to open the rest of your presents.” Simone had gone overboard with buying gifts for Darius. Even Simone’s mother agreed.
When they arrived at Simone’s house, Darius ran inside and slid under the tree, almost tipping it over.
“Well, hello, Darius. Merry Christmas.” Simone poured hot chocolate into mugs with real bells strung on the stained-glass candy cane handles. “Go ahead. They’re all yours.” Simone sat about six feet to Darius’s right and snapped pictures with her computerized digital camera.
“Wow!” Darius unwrapped a hand-held video game, stuffed animals, an identical remote control car to the one Santa gave him, a helmet for which Simone had bought a bike and inline skates, and more. . . .
“Next year invest some of that money in stocks for him,” Wellington said.
“That’s your job, Mr. Investor. I work for the phone company, remember. I just want Darius to have fun. Don’t you think we should have one of our own?” Simone’s eyes became hazy.
“I already have stocks.” He knew where Simone was going, but Wellington wasn’t ready for another baby. But one day he’d love to have a precious little girl. And if a guy ever broke her heart, he’d have to answer to him.
“I mean a child,” Simone said, picking up the mugs.
“Oh, let’s wait a while,” Wellington insisted.
“Darius, wouldn’t you like to have a baby brother or sister next Christmas?” Simone asked.
Darius focused on his hand-held computer. “No girls. And only if Santa brings my baby brother his own toys.”
Wellington laughed.
“Well, think about it.” Simone brushed her black velvet pants against Wellington’s shoulder as she carried the empty cups into the kitchen.
“And don’t try to sneak one in on me.” Wellington stood, stretched, and yawned.
Simone yelled from the kitchen, “I am not Melanie or Jada. I’ve already told you what you need to do.”
“Don’t mention that in front of my son, Simone.” Wellington stood, walked into the kitchen, and stopped directly behind Simone. He wrapped his arms around her, squeezed her breasts, gently kissed the nape of her neck and said, “You’re my baby. And if you really want a child, let’s start making plans.”
Simone faced Wellington and pressed her lips against his. Her eyes brightened then shifted focusing on his left eye then his right and back again like she had just received the best Christmas present of her kife. “I love you Wellington Jones.” She rested her head on his chest.
Wrong choice of words. Wellington instantly thought of when Jada used to speak those words to him. He slapped Simone on her butt. “Yeah, I know. Look, I’m going to take Darius to the park and teach him to ride his bike.”
“Well, am I not invited?” Simone asked placing the clean mugs in the cabinet.
“Don’t take it personal. I need to spend some quality time with my son.”
Simone raised her eyebrows.
Wellington squinted and said, “He is my son, Simone.” He returned to the living room. “Son, get your jacket and your helmet. Daddy’s going to teach you how to ride your bike.”
“Yes!” Darius dropped the remote to his car in the middle of the floor.
Pointing at the object Wellington said, “Oh, no you don’t buddy.”
Darius placed the controller under the Christmas tree beside the car and raced outside. Looking back at Simone, Wellington easily lifted Darius’s bike with one hand and said, “I’ll call you later.” Then he walked out of Simone’s front door.
After three hours at the park and two more hours at the restaurant, Darius slept all the way home.
Wellington carried Darius to the door. Simone needed to leave that paternity test nonsense alone or she was going to find herself alone.
“Can’t hang, huh. I’ll take him,” Robert said, laughing.
“It’s okay, I can carry him.” Maybe Wellington would have a chance to speak with Jada.
“Jada’s not here, man. Ruby took her out. Said she needed some fresh air. But they should be back soon. You can wait a while if you’d like.”
“Oh, that’s okay. I just wanted to know how she liked my gift,” Wellington lied, handing his son to Robert.
“You mean the last one under the tree. Unless she has X-ray vision, I’d say she doesn’t know yet.” Robert laid Darius’s head on his shoulder.
Wellington nodded and walked away. “That’s cool. Merry Christmas, man.”
The Whispers’ voices resonated through his surround-sound auto speakers as Wellington drove home. “People really need one another: man, woman, boy, girl, sister, and brother . . .” A year ago after their dip in the pool, he had been cuddled in front his fireplace with Jada listening to their favorite holiday song by The Stylistics, “When You’ve Got Love, It’s Christmas All Year Long.” This year didn’t feel like Christmas at all.
Chapter 8
Jada Diamond Tanner discovered love happened just like shit. Unexpectedly. For the past year, after Wellington met Simone, she and her son, Darius, had managed quite well by themselves. She had two trustworthy baby-sitters—Candice lived on the other side of town, and Jazzmyne Jones resided in her neighborhood—and visits from her mother allowed a decent social life. Mama traveled to Los Angeles monthly and stayed one or two weeks each time. Mama would spoil Darius so badly it took Jada another week to retrain him. Whenever Darius asked for any
thing, Mama answered, “Yes, my dear.” Darius learned how to change things to his advantage before he even understood the effect. As a toddler, Darius had begun calling Mama, My Dear.
School started at eight-fifteen, and the drive was less than ten miles. Jada had Darius dressed, fed, and out the door by seven-thirty. Jada glanced at her baby in the passenger seat. Sporting a fresh low haircut, he was handsomely dressed in beige khaki pants, brown loafer shoes, a white polo-style shirt, and a navy blazer.
Focusing on the road ahead, Jada asked, “So, are you excited about your first day of school, sweetie?”
“Um, I don’t know,” he said, hunching his shoulder pads higher. “They got girls?” Darius’s bright eyes widened and shifted to the corners as he mischievously bit his bottom lip.
Tapping her brakes, Jada glimpsed down at him. “Now, Darius. You’re going to school to get an education, honey. Don’t worry about the girls.” He was only five. Jada had figured girls wouldn’t be a distraction for at least another eight years.
“Daddy said I should worry about them.” Darius nodded, looked up at his mother, and froze. His brown eyes lingered in silence. When Jada parked in front of the building, Darius pointed and said, “Wow! That’s my new school! I like this one. No more preschool crybabies. May I go play, Mommy? Ooh, may I?” His seat belt sprung into its socket.
Since other kids were playing, Jada said, “Sure, sweetie. But don’t leave out of my sight.”
Switching the radio to her favorite station, KJLH, Jada heard Cliff and Janine interviewing Karen E. Quinones Miller. Her new book, I’m Telling, had recently been released. “Well, Ms. Miller can tell all she wants, but I’m not,” Jada remarked, then whispered, “Some things are better left unsaid.”
A black Mercedes sedan parked directly behind her car. Jada adjusted the rearview mirror, looking first at her dazzling hazel-colored eyes which flattered her ebony complexion, then at the man exiting the Mercedes. Running her hand alongside her head, behind her ear, and across her neck, Jada gathered her long, dark hair in front of her right breast and said, “Ah sooky sooky.” Now that was a chocolate superman, at least he looked the part. A little girl sat patiently and waited until he opened her door. Hopefully, he treated his spouse as well. As stunning as he was, a woman or two had to be in the picture. Now, how committed was he? That was what she intended to find out. Jada cracked her front windows. Suddenly, it was too damn hot, so she pressed the rear buttons, lowered all four windows, and centered herself, using a yoga technique to clear her mind.
“Thank you, Daddy,” the little girl said while flattening the pleats in her blue, black, and white plaid skirt.
Jada settled down and waited until they were inside. She checked her makeup, then hopped out of the car. Eight o’clock sharp. The play area was swarming with kids.
“Darius, honey, let’s go inside.” She also gestured for Darius in case he couldn’t hear her calling him above the cheerful noises.
“A few more minutes, Mom.” His little hands clung to the monkey bars.
Jada responded, “Now.”
When Darius let go, his feet hit the chipped wood. He squatted, paused, and then trotted to her. She was definitely going to enroll him in drama. Jada brushed his jacket and pants and grabbed his slim hand, almost completely covering it with her long fingers.
Inside the hallway, Jada stopped within speaking distance of the man she’d noticed outside. The gap between him and the competition standing behind him was just enough to slide in with Darius.
Jada sang, “Good morning.”
Implementing flirting technique number one, Jada smiled. The woman, now to her left, cheesed a phony grin, but Jada beamed as though she were posing for the cover of Essence magazine. Keeping her focus, Jada thanked God for peripheral vision. Luring method number two was her peek-a-boo glance. His up-close image did not disappoint. Maintaining her smile, Jada said, “You have a lovely daughter.” Then she pretended to straighten Darius’s clothes. Jada knew flattering him would have scored a field goal, but complimenting his daughter was a guaranteed touchdown.
Facing in her direction, he said, “Why, thank you, and good morning. My beautiful daughter, Ashlee, is starting kindergarten.”
Another key factor Jada had learned was not to correct a man. If he spoke the obvious, she’d let it slide since she was interested in getting to know him better. Of course Ashlee was starting kindergarten. Either that or he was in the wrong line.
Exuding confidence, he said, “My name is Lawrence Anderson.”
Oh, damn. He sounded exactly like Hawk on Spenser for Hire. Not remembering the last time she’d seen the TV show, that voice was still unforgettable. Nice smile. Wide. Perfect teeth. He must have used whitening strips, because God didn’t bless any man with teeth so marvelous. The waves in his voice melodically rolled and faded gently into her eardrums.
Breathe in. Breathe out. At thirty-nine, her snapper was snapping at practically every man that appeared halfway decent and had a pulse. Jada twitched to suppress the sensation. She’d grown tired of casual sex. Occasional escapades with her vibrators were hardly enough to satisfy her growing appetite, but being a single parent definitely limited her sexual activities. Children were very impressionable, and she never wanted to give Darius the wrong idea about women.
“Hi, Lawrence. I’m Jada Diamond Tanner, and this is my son, Darius Jones. He’s starting kindergarten, too.” After scoring a touchdown, Jada went for the extra point. “By the way, that’s a fabulous tie you’re wearing. Very tranquil.” The compliment was meant for the sexy tight ass she pictured concealed under his jacket, but as a true diva, she was rarely straightforward.
“Hey, thanks.” Lawrence straightened his tie and flashed his pearly whites.
Prim and proper, Jada reached into her lavender backpack purse and retrieved her gold card holder. Snapping it open, she removed her black business card and gracefully handed it to Lawrence. The diamond logo sparkling prominently in the upper left corner cast a twinkle in his smile.
Everything was in place for Jada to launch her company tomorrow. Six years had been a great sabbatical and sufficient time to secure the perfect office space inside the KPMG building in downtown Los Angeles. At an angle, the skyscraper appeared as flat as a platinum credit card, although bronze was more the color.
“Impressive.” Lawrence reciprocated and extended his one-by-two pallid card on stock paper.
A glance at his card was all Jada needed. Delicately she tilted her head and commented, “Attorney, huh. That’s interesting. Anderson, Anderson, and Anderson?”
Standing proud like a U.S. Marine with his chest swelled, he replied, “That’s right. Three generations.”
Was he blushing? Wow. Trés. That reminded Jada of her favorite tequila, the drink she’d ordered at the bar in San Francisco the night she’d met Wellington.
“Does your company have a firm on retainer?” Lawrence asked.
Okay. There goes that delightful grin again. He’d probably won lots of clients with his charming ass. Lawrence’s suggestive influence rescued Jada from herself. When was she going to let go of Wellington? Did he think of her as often?
“Yes, and thank you,” Jada lied. She was not mixing business with pleasure. The door was slammed shut, and she hoped Lawrence wouldn’t inquire any further.
Interviews for legal representation were being held next week, and her primary staff was already hired. Ginger was twenty and the youngest division director, and Zen was the oldest, thirty-five. Miranda and Heather were twenty-five and thirty, respectively. Jazzmyne, Wellington’s full sister—who was at one time believed to be his half sister—and one of Jada’s best friends next to Candice, was hired to handle public relations for Black Diamonds. Theo. Yes, Theo was destined to be exactly like Huggy Low Down. Huggy could dig up more dirt than a bulldozer could shovel in a week. Then he spilled his guts over the air during Donnie Simpson’s morning show with Chris Paul and David Haines. Theo’s job was to thoroughly c
heck out her competitors and report back to her. Occasionally she might hire him to get the inside scoop on folk for personal reasons. Maybe Mr. Anderson required a background investigation.
“How about dinner tonight? You can tell me all about Black Diamonds.” Lawrence held the card in one hand and pulled Ashlee’s spiraled curls back out of her creamy-colored face with the other.
“How about lunch instead? I’m having dinner with Darius to celebrate his first day of school.” Conveniently omitting Wellington’s name, Jada glowed. Actually, he was flying into town to take them to Darius’s favorite place, Dave & Buster’s, the restaurant with an arcade and pool tables.
Darius tugged on her purple sarong. “And Daddy, too, Mommy. Don’t forget Daddy’s coming.”
Jada’s sarong came untied. Lawrence’s eyes widened; then he covered Ashlee’s eyes and stared over and beyond Jada’s shoulder. Quickly Jada caught and retied the ends. Looking at Darius, she said, “Be careful, honey.”
“Sorry, Mom.” Darius tied the knot in Jada’s sarong tighter.
Uncovering Ashlee’s eyes, Lawrence said, “Lunch it is.” He laughed at Darius and then smiled at Jada.
“My mommy is taking me to dinner tonight, too. We’re going to Dave & Buster’s,” Ashlee said, poking her tongue at Darius.
“So. That’s where we’re—”
Jada lightly jerked Darius’s jacket and pierced a glare into his eyes. Darius tucked his lips in as if trying to swallow them and looked away. Not believing “Spare the rod. Spoil the child” was logical, Jada never beat him. She’d reared him to behave with just one die-hard stare.
“Ooh, oooh,” Darius sang and turned to Ashlee. “You want to see my leaf? My mommy gave it to me this morning. I’m going to Duke University.”
Ashlee frowned. “What’s that?”
Jada looked up at Lawrence and resumed their conversation, “The View? Is that okay?”
“Malibu?” Lawrence asked.
“Yes, Pacific Coast Highway,” Jada clarified, “down from Gladstone’s.”
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