Crazy Love

by Desiree Day

  “Your Honor,” the Nut Crusher jumped in, “Miss Jacobs just completed a twelve-week certificate program on parenting skills,” she said smugly, and Jackson snorted. He couldn’t help himself. How can a twelve-week class teach you to be a good parent? This is bullshit! Bryant voiced Jackson’s thoughts.

  “A twelve-week course? Your Honor…come on. This man has been taking care of his son for eight years. Rocking him to sleep, wiping his snotty nose when he was sick and drying his tears when he was sad. And he did it all by himself.”

  “Your Honor—”

  “Enough!” Judge Lewis growled before he stepped off the bench and swept off to his chambers to make his decision.

  Jackson slapped on a smile before turning around to Ettie Mae and Stacie. Two pairs of terror-filled eyes met his. They were sitting as still as statues.

  “Hey, come on you two, smile,” Jackson cajoled. “We’re not gonna lose. Jam is going to be with us, forever.” He jutted his chin in Michelle’s direction. “She’s not getting him.” But Ettie Mae couldn’t muster a smile; her heart was telling her that her grandson was going to get hurt today. When she bowed her head and began to pray, Jackson and Stacie joined in. As soon as they uttered “amen,” Judge Lewis came swishing through the door and they were ordered to stand. After both parties stood, he solemnly peered at them all over the top of his horn-rimmed glasses.

  “I’ve reviewed the paperwork, and read over the history of both parties. I’ve had some hard cases, and this is a tough one.” He pulled his glasses off and tiredly swiped his hand over his eyes. “I believe that a child should have its mother in its life,” he announced, and Jackson pitched forward and clutched the table for support just as Ettie Mae groaned mournfully. Jackson watched the judge through terrified eyes.

  “And Mr. Brown”—he nodded in Jackson’s direction—“you have been doing a wonderful job with your son. But Miss Jacobs has not only shown that she’s interested in being a part of her son’s life, she has clearly demonstrated to me that she is sincere on her part. With that being said, I announce that Miss Michelle Jacobs will receive supervised visits with said son, Jameel Brown. The said visitations are to commence within three weeks.” Judge Lewis banged his gavel, then stepped off the bench.

  “Court adjourned,” the bailiff intoned.

  Jackson stared at the empty bench in stunned silence. Bryant stood by, looking at everything except his client. He never knew what to do in these situations; they didn’t go over it in law school. Instead of offering words of comfort, he picked up his papers and stuffed them into his briefcase.

  Jackson turned to his grandmother and Stacie. “Grammy, how could he do it?” he pleaded. “How can that white man decide to give my son to a crackhead?”

  “It’ll be all right, baby,” Ettie Mae, soothed as she stroked her grandson’s arm. Stacie wrapped her arm around his waist.

  “How the fuck can a white man tell me what to do with my son?” his voice escalated, his anger building. Jackson caught a slight movement out of the corner of his eye. Michelle, her mother and the Nut Crusher were huddled around their table.

  The Nut Crusher gave Michelle a congratulatory hug before she hurried out of the courtroom to defend another young mother, leaving Michelle and her mother lost in their own hug.

  Jackson took one look at them, and his face twisted with rage. They’re celebrating because I lost Jameel, he thought. That bitch is gonna get my son. Like hell! Before anybody knew what was happening Jackson pulled away from Ettie Mae and Stacie, then charged toward Michelle and her mother. Ettie Mae reached out to grab him, but she wasn’t fast enough.

  The bailiff charged across the room and grabbed Jackson by the neck, stopping him before he could reach Michelle. Jackson struggled against him, but froze when he glanced over at Ettie Mae and saw the horrified expression on her face. He couldn’t hurt her anymore than she’d already been hurt today. Instead Jackson yelled out, he couldn’t help himself.

  “This is your fault. If you hadn’t brought your sorry ass back here, I would still have my son!” he screamed, his face dark with anger. Michelle smiled arrogantly.

  “Justice prevailed here today, Jackson. I’ll be by this Saturday at ten o’clock in the morning to see my baby,” she announced, then sauntered out of the courtroom with her mother on her heels.

  29

  It’s a Bad Thing to Shoot Yourself in the Foot…But to Laugh While Doing It Is Sadistic

  Tameeka and Mohammad were sitting inside the store enjoying their morning coffee. Tameeka was sprawled out on the couch and Mohammad was sitting on the floor at her feet. Occasionally Tameeka found herself guiltily looking over her shoulder for Tyrell to come bursting through the door.

  “I heard you guys the other night,” Mohammad said slyly. “I think everybody heard y’all. Sounded like some heavy sexing was going on up in here.”

  Tameeka busted out laughing, not at all embarrassed. “Were we that loud? Damn! I paid good money to have this old house soundproofed. Damnit!”

  “It’s not soundproofed now and it wasn’t back when we were using it,” he said, studying her. “I still want you, Tameeka,” Mohammad whispered. His voice lingered over her, caressing her body the same way his hands, tongue and eyes used to. Suddenly Tameeka wasn’t sure what was causing the blood to rush to her face, Mohammad or the coffee.

  “I can’t…I have a boyfriend…” Tameeka stuttered, but she inched closer to Mohammad’s mouth.

  He glanced down at his watch and suddenly stood up. “Hey, thanks for the coffee,” he said. “I need to run. A man from CNN is stopping by. They want me to decorate some of their offices. Same time tomorrow?”

  Tameeka hid her face in her coffee mug and simply nodded as he strolled out of the store. A sigh escaped when she heard the door close. The room instantly cooled by ten degrees. What are you doing, Tameeka Jaquisha Johnson? You love Tyrell, why would you fuck it all up by sleeping with Mo? “Because Tyrell can’t stop looking at sticks,” she said out loud. Last night at dinner Tyrell couldn’t take his eyes off the waitress. They fought about it. They fought in the restaurant, fought on the way to her apartment and fought inside the apartment. This morning, before she left for work, she tried to kiss him, but he had offered her his cheek instead. She was still thinking about Tyrell, when twenty minutes later she heard the door open.

  “I’m back,” Mohammad sang out as he sauntered over to the couch. He noticed that she hadn’t moved since he’d left. “Did you miss me?” he joked, but his eyes were serious.

  Tameeka rolled her eyes and ignored the question. “What happened to CNN?” she sked.

  “Oh, I saw the guy,” Mohammad called over his shoulder. He was making himself another cup of coffee. “He did a little talking. I talked back. He showed me what he wanted. I showed him what I could do. And kaboom—it was over.” He grabbed his coffee cup and sat down on the couch next to Tameeka. Instead of drinking his coffee he was holding it with both hands and watching the steam float up into the air. “Hey, I want to apologize.” Tameeka looked at him and he hurriedly explained. “For almost overstepping again…earlier this morning. I shouldn’t’ve told you that I wanted you. That was wrong. I should respect your relationship.”

  “Oh, that’s okay. I wasn’t offended or anything,” Tameeka answered nonchalantly, but her heart was beating so fast that she was afraid she was going to faint. “I’ve been doing some thinking,” she said, then took a deep breath. “I want you too,” she murmured as she leaned forward, and this time her lips touched Mohammad’s. They brushed against his like a gentle promise.

  He pulled back and gently appraised her. “Are you sure?” Tameeka nodded. “What about your boyfriend?”

  Tameeka lowered her eyes and shrugged. “I don’t want to talk about him,” she mumbled, then placed her hand on his crotch and felt his dick grow. “Let’s do this…we don’t have much time before customers start coming in.”

  “So you’re giving me time restrictions now? I want to
take my time and enjoy every inch of you,” he drawled as he leaned forward and gently nibbled on her lips until Tameeka was softly panting for breath.

  Tameeka slipped her hands under his shirt and ran her fingernails gently over his back until he shivered. “That’s right, baby, I didn’t forget,” she murmured as she pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it on the floor. He was exactly how she remembered him. Where Tyrell was cuddly and huggable, Mohammad was hard and sinewy. “I didn’t forget a thing.” Leaning over, she swiped her tongue up and down his chest, over his muscled pecs, and licked his ginger-colored nipples until they were hard. A sigh of happiness escaped her mouth as she moved down to his stomach, giving his six-pack extra attention.

  Pulling her up so that they were at eye level, Mohammad hungrily seized her lips as he eagerly undressed her before slipping out of his pants and boxers. Wrapping an arm around her neck, Mohammad eased Tameeka onto her back, then gazed into her eyes.

  “I can stop whenever you want,” Mohammad said. In response, Tameeka placed her hands on either side of his face and pulled him closer until their lips met. Her tongue slipped past his lips and gently probed his mouth until she had him groping for more.

  Mohammad’s hand snaked down between her legs and tenderly stroked her button. She lifted her hips toward him and began moving at a slow tempo, matching his movements until her body began convulsing and she was gasping for breath. A smile of satisfaction was on her face as she reclined on the couch and pulled Mohammad on top of her.

  “Oh, Mo, put it in,” she moaned as she arched her back and spread her legs.

  “Whatever you want,” Mohammad answered as he lovingly stroked her stomach, causing Tameeka to purr deep in her throat.

  She glanced at Mohammad while he quickly put on a condom and suddenly pictures of Tyrell flashed in her head. She stared wild-eyed around her store. What the hell am I doing?

  Just when she opened her mouth to tell Mohammad that she had changed her mind, he plunged into her and all images of Tyrell vanished.

  “Meek, you feel so good,” Mohammad grunted as he swiveled his pelvis. “You’re so wet. Am I making you wet?” he asked as he looked down at her face. She looked so beautiful lying underneath him. A light sheen covered her face, giving her a sexy glow as her body undulated with his.

  “You’re making me very wet and hot,” Tameeka groaned. “Do me like you used to, baby,” she begged, wrapping her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper into her. “Make me scream.”

  Mohammad grinned wickedly and granted Tameeka her wish.

  The smell of sex hung heavily in the air, the scents from her candles weren’t strong enough to extinguish it. Tameeka dressed and picked up her coffee: it was ice cold, but she sipped it anyway as she glanced nervously around the store. I cheated on Tyrell!

  “You okay?” Mohammad cut his eyes at her as he hiked up his khakis.

  “I’m cool,” she answered, not looking at him. She needed Stacie, she’d know how to fix things. But ever since their argument they’d been tipping around each other like two mothers-in-law living under the same roof.

  “Meek,” he called softly, and Tameeka looked in his direction, “This is between us. I hope you don’t do something stupid like get a conscience and tell Tyrell,” he said more for his own benefit than for Tameeka’s. Even though he worked out at the gym, Tyrell could still break him in half if he wanted to.

  Tameeka shook her head. She had a distant look in her eyes. “I wouldn’t do that to him,” she said, and shook her head again as if she was sealing a deal with herself. “No, I’m not going to tell him. What good would it serve?” she asked, not really expecting an answer.

  “Now that we got that out of the way, what just happened?”

  “You know what happened,” Tameeka answered, rolling her eyes. “Weren’t you there?”

  “I know what happened,” Mohammad said. “But did you feel it between us, Meek? I mean, really feel it? It was good! We were good! Just like we used to be. I think we should get back together.”

  “Because of sex?” Tameeka asked, incredulous that he would suggest something like that. “That’s not a good reason to get back together.”

  “It’s not just the sex, it’s more. We vibe on so many different levels. You know I’m right,” Mohammad said.

  Tameeka waved him off. “You might be right, Mo. But I’m with Tyrell—” Mohammad snorted his disbelief. “And I really love him. This was a huge mistake. We both have to be adults and not let it happen again,” she finished.

  Mohammad studied her through narrowed eyes. “This wasn’t a mistake. And you know what?” he asked, and Tameeka simply rolled her eyes again. “We’re gonna end up together,” he promised with a knowing smile.

  Tameeka vigorously shook her head.

  “Oh, yes we are. Get used to it,” Mohammad said, and kissed her quickly on the lips before he strolled out the door.

  “Oh, Tyrell, I do love you, don’t I?” Tameeka asked mournfully.

  30

  Ways for Me to Save Money

  Move back home

  Sell some jewelry

  Sell some clothes

  Sell some shoes

  Sell Lexie??? (Last resort)

  It took Stacie three weeks to get over the shock and anger of getting fired. Three weeks of sitting in front of the TV munching bag after bag of Doritos while watching daytime talk shows. Three weeks of crying jags that left her eyes looking like ripe cherries and her throat feeling like she had swallowed fire. Three weeks of analyzing how she could’ve handled the situation better. Three weeks of sniffing every pair of shoes in her closet. Once the anger simmered, it grew into something she would have never thought possible—relief, which mushroomed into freedom.

  The freedom didn’t last long. After applying for unemployment and seeing the paltry amount she’d receive, she immediately went out and registered with over a dozen temporary agencies. The assignments trickled in, in little spurts, but nothing consistent or permanent.

  Stacie pushed herself off the couch and clicked off the TV just as Judge Judy started shouting at one of the defendants. The banging of pots and pans beckoned her to the kitchen. Stacie hung onto the door and watched Tameeka. She moved around the kitchen so fast that she looked like she was walking on air.

  “This is crazy,” Stacie muttered as she walked into the kitchen. “We’re gonna talk.” Since their argument, she and Tameeka had been as cool to each other as a pastor’s wife and her husband’s mistress. “Hey, girl. I’m so sorry for treating you the way I did. I know you’re not jealous of me. That was my ego talking.”

  Tameeka gave a sigh of relief. She had been waiting for Stacie’s apology. The pots Tameeka held in her hands clanked to the floor. She rushed toward Stacie with outstretched arms. “And I’m sorry for tearing up your list. I know how much it meant to you.” Tameeka’s arms dropped to her side. “Sit down, girl, the fried chicken is almost done.”

  “I know. That’s why I apologized,” Stacie joked. No one, not even the Colonel, fried chicken better than Tameeka.

  Twenty minutes later, Stacie was slowly chewing on her piece of fried chicken, savoring it like it was her last meal. She dipped her fork in the mashed potatoes and stuck a mound of them into her mouth. She groaned in ecstasy. She was going to miss Tameeka’s cooking, but mostly she was going to miss their late-night talks. “I’ma have to move back home,” Stacie said out of the blue, and she immediately felt bad when Tameeka’s jaw dropped in amazement. Actually she had been thinking about moving back home ever since she’d gotten fired. It made much more sense economically to move back in with her mother.

  “No! We’ve just started talking again,” Tameeka protested as soon as she found her voice. If Stacie moved out, it marked the end of an era. Tameeka jumped up from the table and went to the stove, where she loaded her plate with a third helping of mashed potatoes, asparagus and two more pieces of chicken. She eyed her plate. Well, I’ll start the bean diet tomorrow, she
decided, then added another piece of chicken. She plopped back down in her chair, then said, “Your butt is going to stay right here until you find another job,” she demanded, then tacked on, with admiration, “which I know you will. You got skills, girl.”

  Stacie laughed and shook her head. “I wasn’t anything but a glorified switchboard operator,” she said, then giggled at Tameeka’s look of astonishment. “Yep, that’s all I was. I admit it. No more sugarcoating it. A glorified switchboard operator,” she confirmed. “Not a secretary, not an administrative assistant, but a freakin’ switchboard operator. I’m okay with it.” She smiled to herself, then said, “I need to go.”

  Tameeka eyes glistened. “I’m really gonna miss you, girl. We’ve been together for like, forever,” she said as the tears began falling. “Oh, I don’t want you to go,” she said, then jumped up and hurried over to hug Stacie.

  “Humph, I don’t really want to go either. But it’s for the best. I’m a grown-ass woman who needs to handle her business.”

  “Yeah, and you look like you can handle anything with that damn chicken bone dangling from your mouth. Cavewoman,” Tameeka joked. Then she turned serious. “If it’s just about money, you know you can stay here until you get a real job,” Tameeka offered.

  Stacie smiled wryly as she shook her head. “Then that would prove your point, wouldn’t it?”

  “What point?”

  “That my sister and I are alike.”

  Tameeka burst out laughing. “Hey, you don’t have to open your legs for me. You know I don’t swing that way.”

  “Me either, but seriously I appreciate the offer. I truly do,” Stacie said. “But no thanks. I want to be with Nevia and Mom. And I have some other things to work out,” she confessed, and Tameeka’s heart hurt for her friend.

  Over the years Stacie had confided in her about her father, not a lot, but enough to know that he wasn’t the nicest man. “You wanna talk about it?” Tameeka asked.