Nothing Has Ever Felt Like This

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Nothing Has Ever Felt Like This Page 25

by Mary B. Morrison


  Jada had never seen Darius so afraid as the day he was booked for murder and fraud. Praise God Ciara hadn’t pressed charges against Darius for assault and battery, the one charge that would’ve locked Darius up for years. Darryl had said a 242 was a chargeable crime and if Ciara had even mentioned to the cops that Darius had shoved her while she was pregnant, accidental or not, the district attorney would’ve pressed charges even if Ciara refused.

  Of all the times Jada had held her son in her arms, she wanted to bail him out again that time, but Darryl insisted Darius stay a few days—three, maybe four—saying, “It won’t kill him but he needs to sit still and think. And the only way our son is going to sit still is if we leave him behind bars for a few days.”

  Tears rolled down Jada’s cheeks into her hair and onto her pillow. When Darius had gotten of jail, he’d come directly to her house. Stayed the night, lying across the foot of her bed, telling her more than he’d ever confessed before. Darius’s vision of playing in the NBA made him so happy that she was happy for him. His insecurities with women had made him frustrated. His distrust of all women had made him bitter. The sadness Darius said he felt when thinking about Ma Dear had made him, at times, extremely depressed. But when Darius had begun angrily degrading Fancy, Jada poked Darius in the side with her foot and emphatically told him he was wrong for not embracing Fancy.

  Jada had said, “Not many women will love you enough, honey, to almost die for you and then turn around and bail you out of jail. Fancy loves you, Darius. She loves you in a way that I never could. For once, take a chance on love and open up your heart.”

  “But I’m scared, Ma. I know you love me unconditionally but what if Fancy stops loving me, like Wellington stopped loving you?”

  Looking into her son’s eyes, Jada had explained, “Everything in life is a gamble. When you have kids, you don’t how they’re going to turn out. But you do love them unconditionally. Like I love you. When you start a business, you don’t know if you’ll be successful. But you always strive for success. And in life, you will learn more from your mistakes than from what you do right. But only if you take chances.”

  Darius’s eyes had glazed the way they did when he didn’t see whatever was in front of him because he was lost in thought. “You’re right. You’re good to me, Ma, and I’ll be a better son. I’ll show you. And I’ll talk with Fancy.”

  Jada felt all of the goodness in Darius’s heart’s intentions. She just hoped that Darius could appreciate Fancy before it was too late. When Darius saw Fancy’s car at his next-door neighbor’s, Jada had to explain to him how a woman could get caught up in a situation that wasn’t what it appeared to be on the surface. “If you love Fancy, honey, then you must confront her with respect, not anger.”

  Dragging her body from the bed, Jada retrieved the plush green, purple, and gold towel set Wellington had bought her on their first trip to New Orleans for Mardi Gras. Showering, Jada could still smell the scent of Wellington’s cologne in her mind. She brushed her teeth, combed her hair, and dressed in one of her conservative two-piece pantsuits so her emotions would be in sync with her appearance.

  Noticing the flashing red light on her cell phone, she’d missed a call from Darius. “Mom, I just called to say I love you, thanks for always supporting and believing in me, thanks for everything, and I apologize for all the pain I’ve caused you. Call me when you get back in from your appointment, I’m going to spend the night at your place tonight so you won’t be lonely. I don’t want you to be alone. Oh, yeah. My dad said he’d gladly keep you company anytime.” Jada chuckled. “Hope I made you smile with that one. Hugs and kisses, Mom. I love you.”

  Since Wellington was gone, Darius wanted to be the man of her house. But it wasn’t Darius’s responsibility to take care of her. Not on that level. If she were sick, yes. Because she was getting a divorce, no.

  Driving along Interstate 5, Jada called Darius.

  “Hi, honey. I’m on my way to my meeting with Wellington.”

  “Ma, you sure you don’t want me to meet you there? I could have Lance take notes in class for me.”

  “No, honey. I’ll be fine. But thanks. How are things between you and Fancy?”

  “Thanks to you, Mom, great. She explained what happened. She says she’s coming to my last games, even out-of-state games. I love her. And I love you, Mom.”

  “Honey, if you’re serious about marrying Fancy, just remember that the love of a woman or a wife doesn’t surpass that of your mother. A wife’s unconditional love will make you complete as long as you realize that your woman is not your mother. In time, your wife will become much closer to you. She should be your best friend, your confidante, your support person, and ultimately the woman who will breathe life into your life, into your children’s lives. I don’t want you to make the mistakes I did. I lied for so long I’m still struggling to overcome my guilt. I do feel partially responsible for Wellington’s actions.”

  “Bump that! It’s not your fault, Mom.”

  “Darius, don’t pacify me. Clearly all of this isn’t my fault, but I am partially to blame and I can accept that. That’s why I’m not freaking out. When you’ve done right by someone who has wronged you, you feel betrayed. Angry. Revengeful even. But when you are the one who’s wrong, like you were wrong for marrying Ciara, you have to accept the truth and not blame others. I’m here now. I’ll call you on my way home. Thanks, honey.”

  “Love you, Mom. ’Bye.”

  Jada parked in the garage then entered the room five minutes late. Jada’s lawyer and Wellington’s attorney were seated across the conference table from Wellington, reviewing the financial statements for all three businesses, including Somebody’s Gotta Be on Top Enterprises, which her lawyer had already advised had turned a remarkable profit after the release of The Honey Well by Gloria Mallette.

  The meeting, the first of several, was agreed upon to prepare a draft dissolution of marriage along with the stipulations and division of assets. The knots in Jada’s stomach united, doubling her abdominal pain. Jada paced, trying to alleviate the pain accompanied by a migraine.

  “Are you all right?” Wellington asked, seemingly concerned.

  “I will be after this is over. I cannot believe this is how you want to end our marriage. Starting with a division of assets as opposed to developing an understanding of our issues.”

  Wellington’s face was expressionless. “I think it’s best. Darius is grown. My son is more of a nuance to you than a joy. And—”

  Standing next to Wellington, Jada yelled, “Wellington, that’s not fair! Don’t you dare sit there trying to justify your behavior! What about this Morgan child?”

  Wellington pushed his chair backward and faced her. “I told you, Morgan is not my daughter. Melanie—”

  Looking down upon her husband, Jada wanted Wellington to hold her. Tell her everything would be okay. But she replied, “I don’t believe you.”

  Rising to his feet, Wellington lamented, “Listen, Melanie asked me to help raise Morgan. Morgan has a father much like Darius’s father was. But admit it. It’s true. You don’t want to help raise my son. Whenever he’s over for the weekend, you conveniently have something else to do that keeps you away all day.”

  Wellington was inside her three feet of space. Jada stepped back. “If you hadn’t left him with me every single weekend without checking my schedule, maybe, just maybe, I wouldn’t have minded being around.”

  Wellington sat in his chair. “Ba, I didn’t say anything because of my love for you. And I still love you. Always will, ba. But—”

  “But what?” Jada said, sitting next to Wellington. “You’d rather be with Melanie.”

  Holding her hands, Wellington said, “Naw, ba. This isn’t about sex or another woman. That’s not it at all. Melanie could never take your place. To be honest, I don’t know what the hell I was thinking of or if I was thinking at all. You have no idea how hard it was for me to accept the fact that Darius wasn’t my son. Melanie was
convenient and I needed someone to turn to. Look, if you don’t want to do this today, we can think about this another month or so.”

  “And do what in the interim?” Jada asked, hoping for a favorable response but added, “Keep living apart. Keep walking by one another in the hallway at work and not speaking. What?”

  “Talk. We can talk. Believe it or not, I do miss waking up to you. Reading the newspapers in the morning with you.”

  When Wellington gave in, Jada became angry. “You should’ve thought about all that before you started fucking Melanie in your office and everywhere else.”

  Shaking his head, Wellington said, “You’re never going to change. As long as things go your way, you’re happy. You lied to me, to Darius, to Darryl, to yourself, and everyone has forgiven you, but you can’t forgive me because of what? Your selfish pride.”

  Not wanting to admit Wellington was right, Jada asked, “Did you make a decision on signing over your interest in Darius’s company and did you schedule your doctor’s appointment?”

  “Not yet. And thanks for reminding me about my appointment. I’ll call today.”

  “Wellington, like it or not, Darryl is going to run Darius’s company. We didn’t establish this company for our benefit. We established this company so that Darius would have his own business. And business-wise, you must admit, Darius did well.”

  Wellington looked at his attorney and said, “Reschedule this meeting in two months.”

  Jada’s lawyer asked, “What would you like to do?”

  Jada had almost forgotten the lawyers were there. “That’s fine, but proceed with finalizing the independent financial reports and paperwork so when we do meet we won’t have another delay. There’s no need to drag this out. You can call me later with the first available date to meet.”

  “Wait, ba. We do need to discuss this. Can you guys step outside and give us a moment?”

  Wellington’s lawyer responded, “Sure.”

  Jada looked at her lawyer and said, “It’s okay. You can leave. Call me later.”

  “Ba,” Wellington said, patting the seat next him. “Come sit down.”

  Jada sat beside a man she thought she’d spend the rest of her life with but didn’t want to share another day with. “What?”

  “I want us to be friends. I don’t want this divorce to get uncivil. Giving Darius back his company in the middle of production for Gloria Mallette’s The Honey Well could cost millions. Especially since Ciara refuses to cooperate with Darius unless he remains her husband.”

  “That crazy woman needs to go on and sign the divorce papers. Darius loves Fancy. And Wellington, I’m no longer asking you to give Darius back his company, I’m telling you.”

  “Darius is part of our problem, too. Anything Darius wants, Darius gets.”

  “And how is that any different from your son, Wellington the Second?”

  Wellington became silent then said, “Isn’t this funny? We were friends for over twenty years. Now after less than three years of marriage, we’re getting divorced.”

  “So do you want the divorce?” Jada asked.

  “Never said I didn’t. I said we could wait two months and you said you didn’t want to wait at all. Fine, we’ll handle this your way,” Wellington said, approaching the door. “Seems to me you wanted out long before now.”

  “Wait one goddamn minute, Wellington Jones! What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Just what I said. The things you used to do, you stopped. So I stopped.”

  “Like what?” Jada asked. “I still lay out your clothes, fix your breakfast.”

  “You call that breakfast?”

  “This isn’t about breakfast. What’s this really about?”

  “I’m done with you.” Wellington exited the room.

  Jada sat trying to keep her composure, waiting for the attorneys to enter the room, but they didn’t. She’d forgotten she told her lawyer to leave. When Jada opened the door, the hallway was clear so she left.

  What was the real reason Wellington refused to give Darius his company? Did Wellington honestly want a divorce? Did she? All Jada knew was she wasn’t going to stay married to a man who flaunted his woman, a woman she despised, in her presence and her workplace. Wellington Jones could kiss her ass.

  Being single at her age was not going to be fun. Jada still looked good but dealing with the men who were chasing young women, stealing their youthfulness trying to stay young, was not her idea of fun.

  Jada’s best girlfriend Candice had recently purchased a mansion in Beverly Hills after separating from her husband Terrell. Maybe Jada would visit Candice at her home instead of going to her big empty house. Their house was lonely without Wellington.

  CHAPTER 29

  Finally! Yes! Ciara had agreed to sign the divorce papers. This time she’d requested the meeting. Not at her office but at a neutral location. Since Darius had grown emotionally closer to his mother—spending nights and weekends at her house—his opinion of and respect for women had improved. Darius had developed a newfound appreciation of his mother.

  His mom was intelligent, beautiful, and when she wanted to be, comical. Witnessing how depressed his mother had become living without Wellington and learning so much about his mother’s struggles being an only child to parents who were also only children, had convinced Darius to seek professional help. His mother made him realize that he couldn’t continue going through life alone without having friends, both male and female. She’d said, “But first, honey, before establishing true friendships, you must know how to be a friend. Then you must surround yourself with good people who have your best interests at heart. Not the ones who want to be your friend because you’re a millionaire. You must know when to listen. When to give advice. When to be there. And when not to be there.”

  Focusing added attention to his appearance before he left his Oakland house, Darius’s freshly twisted locks were gathered into a ponytail, exposing his clean-shaven face and emerald-cut diamond earring. Darius splashed on cologne then fastened his new Rolex on his left wrist. He dressed in an expensive, casual, tan button-up shirt with his diamond cufflinks and a pair of brown slacks. Not for his luncheon with Ciara but for his evening date with Fancy.

  Nervously, Darius arrived at the address on University Avenue that the receptionist had given him. “Damn, there’s no garages around here?” Darius mumbled, driving several blocks past Mandy’s office toward UC Berkeley. Making a U-turn, Darius bypassed Mandy’s office again and parked his customized Escalade diagonally, consuming two spaces in Kragen’s parking lot. Somebody was sure to see his car but hopefully not him. And definitely not Fancy because Darius made certain to invite her to his place in Los Angeles while he was in Oakland for his appointment.

  Standing at the receptionist’s counter, Darius read the framed eleven-by-fourteen print: “Every smiling face isn’t smiling. Every laughing voice isn’t laughing. Every shut eye isn’t sleeping. Every listening ear isn’t hearing. Every broken heart isn’t broken.”

  “Good morning,” the receptionist said. “You must be Mr. Williams.”

  “That’s right. Good morning. I have a nine o’clock appointment. Do I need to complete any paperwork?”

  “No, Mandy prefers to ask the questions herself.”

  Pointing at the print, Darius said, “You know that last saying doesn’t make much sense.”

  “Oh, but it will, Mr. Williams. Before you leave, it will. Mandy will see you now.”

  Stepping into Mandy’s office, Darius felt awkward. Maybe he should pay his bill and leave.

  Mandy frowned, staring, “Aren’t you Mr. Jones?”

  “Naw, Williams is my last name.”

  “You were Darius Jones before, right?”

  Darius started to tell Mandy the truth, but didn’t know why he lied, “No. Not me.”

  “Have a seat, Mr. Williams,” Mandy said as she sat in a high-backed swivel chair reaching for a legal-sized yellow pad. “So what brings you here?”

>   “Life.”

  Mandy sat staring then asked, “Yours? Or someone else’s?”

  “Both.”

  “Okay, Mr. Williams. When was the first time you experienced love?”

  Darius sat on the blue leather sofa smiling, scanning Mandy’s bookcases. His eyes settled on A One-Woman Man by Travis Hunter. Why did they have two different covers for the same book? “My first time was when I was in elementary school. There was this girl—”

  Mandy interrupted. “Not sex, Mr. Williams. Love.”

  “Um, I apologize,” Darius said, easing his hand over his ponytail.

  “Don’t. We’ll cover sex in another session. Today we’re talking about love.”

  Darius sat staring at an unaligned row of gardenias. Slowly he spoke in an uneasy tone like something fluttered in his throat. “I remember . . .” Darius hurtfully smiled, recalling the print behind Mandy’s receptionist desk, then continued, “As a little boy loving my mother more than anyone in the whole wide world. Mom, she used to always take care of me. I was always first. She gave me lots of hugs and kisses. She took care of me when I was sick. Her eyes sparkled like diamonds whenever I entered a room.” Darius was careful not to use his mother’s name or anyone associated with him. Especially Fancy’s name because Fancy wanted so badly to meet with Mandy again. Now he understood why.

  “What happened?” Mandy asked, scribbling.

  “One Christmas when I was three, I recall telling my dad, ‘I think I made Mommy sad, because when I walk into the room, her eyes don’t light up no more.’ My dad said, ‘Mommy just has a lot on her mind and it has nothing to do with you.’ I believed him. But today, I’m not so sure. What I realized as I got older was my mother was sad because my dad had another woman. As long as we were a family, my mother’s eyes sparkled. But when Dad left, he took a part of my mom that I never got back.”

 

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