Nothing Has Ever Felt Like This

by Mary B. Morrison

  The great accomplishments Jada had made weren’t predicated upon what-ifs. Jada had been a damn good mother to Darius, a wonderful wife to Wellington, and treated Darryl with respect when he didn’t deserve it. Darryl walked into Darius’s life after being absent for over twenty years and all of a sudden he was a hero. A saint who could do no wrong. Where was Darryl when Darius was sick? When Darius almost committed suicide when he thought he’d contracted HIV? Or when Darius almost had an emotional breakdown when Ma Dear died? Not another day would Jada Diamond Tanner feel guilty for living her life. She didn’t owe anybody anything. Maybe she wasn’t perfect, but hell, neither were they.

  Sitting in the doctor’s office with Wellington waiting for his test results, Jada glanced at her husband. His face was tense, jaws tight, eyes half closed.

  “Everything is gonna be all right. Stop worrying. You had a checkup and they want to make sure you’re fine,” Jada said, gently holding her husband’s hand.

  Why did a woman have to be so strong for her men? Why was she the one always caring for everybody else? Who would take care of her in her time of illness or need? Jada wanted to cry but reserved her strength for Wellington.

  “But what if I have to have surgery? What if I can’t have sex anymore after the surgery? Or if making love to me isn’t the same?”

  Wellington had an epiphany when Melanie inexplicably stopped calling and visiting him. He’d thought that Jada had something to do with Melanie’s disappearance but Melanie wasn’t worth Jada’s effort.

  “I can love you ways you haven’t imagined,” Jada said, kissing Wellington’s lips. If she’d kissed his cheek, he wouldn’t have believed her. “Lots of men have prostrate cancer and recover just fine. You’ll be all right. But I have to ask you, did you ask me not to divorce you because you thought your test might confirm that the doctors found cancer?”

  After Wellington was told he might have cancer, living alone and dating strange women after working twelve to eighteen-hour days, Wellington wanted to come home to someone he knew cared about him. Melanie obviously thrived on the chase and once she had him, she disappeared. Or did Melanie know something that Jada did not?

  Staring at the gray carpet underneath his feet, Wellington avoided looking in Jada’s direction. “I’ve asked myself the same question and the answer is no. I love you. We’ve been through so much together. No woman can replace you.”

  “Then why the affair, Wellington? Why did you have to do this to us?” This time Jada was unable to hold back her tears.

  Wellington had begged Jada not to sign the divorce papers, and he’d readily given Darius his thirty-three-and-a-third interest in Somebody’s Gotta Be on Top. The emptiness of memories floating through every room they’d made love in, the loneliness of their bed, the still silence of their home filled only with the sounds of televisions or CDs or the radio, wasn’t a routine Jada wanted to become accustomed to.

  “Ba, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  That was a lie. Wellington wouldn’t have sided with Melanie every time they had an argument. “Yes, you did. I was the one who didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  “You’re right,” Wellington conceded. “You’re always right.”

  “Do not pacify me, Wellington Jones.” Jada said, “Damn, I wish you had a middle name.” Jada laughed, but not really. She wanted to continue their discussion but Wellington was already stressed.

  “You’re beautiful when you get upset, you know—”

  The nurse interrupted, “The doctor will see you now, Mr. Jones.”

  Slowly Wellington stood. His heart sunk deeper into the carpet than his shoes. Jada walked side by side with her husband and sat next to him in the doctor’s office.

  “Hello, Mrs. Tanner. Mr. Jones,” the doctor said, opening Wellington’s chart. “Mr. Jones, I’ll get straight to my diagnosis. Your prostate cancer is no longer localized. You now have advanced prostate cancer in your lymph nodes in the groin area and your rectum, and if untreated the cancer could spread to your bones and become very painful. If you had had the surgery when I recommended it two years ago, we could’ve removed your prostate and you wouldn’t be in this condi—”

  “Excuse me, Doctor. Wellington, you’ve known about this for two years and didn’t tell me? Honey, why?” That’s why Wellington had such difficulty maintaining an erection.

  “Scared. Still scared to go under a knife.”

  “Mr. Jones, if you don’t have the surgery, you could die. We have a team of fantastic urologists and radiation and medical oncologists for you to consult with to determine the best approach. I can’t make the decision for you but—”

  “But I can,” Jada interrupted. “And I will. You’re not going to leave me here, Wellington. I love you. And I need you.” Jada thought back to when Wellington began having his affair with Melanie two years ago. Did Melanie know Wellington had cancer?

  The doctor continued, “But we’d like to admit you today. Right now. And begin preparing you for surgery in the morning.”

  Leaning his bald head into his palms, Wellington wept like a baby. “Why me? I watch what I eat. I exercise.” Wellington yelled, “Why in the fuck did this have to happen to me?” Wellington pushed back his chair, stood, and said, “Sorry, Doc. I can’t let you cut on me down there.” Looking at his dick, he continued, “I’m not having the surgery.”

  The doctor remained seated and said, “It’s perfectly normal to be afraid. I had prostate surgery last year. I can’t promise you a successful outcome. But let me make myself clear. If you don’t have the surgery, the cancer will continue to spread and you are going to die.”

  Wellington responded to the doctor as if Jada weren’t in the room. “We’re all going to die, Doc. Good-bye.”

  Following Wellington out of the hospital and into the parking lot, Jada pleaded, “Baby, have the surgery. Choose life, not death. I need you. And you know I’ll be with you the entire time.”

  “Unlock the car. Let me in. Or I’ll call my driver,” Wellington said, retrieving his cell phone.

  Driving along Interstate 5, tears streamed down Jada’s and Wellington’s faces. Why were men so stubborn, bullheaded, and selfish? Was she supposed to take care of Wellington? Watching him deteriorate and decompose. Waste to nothing. Die slowly in her presence. Jada refused to give up on convincing her husband to have surgery. There was so much more to their lives than sex. They had love. What did love have to do with anything? Everything. Life without her soul mate, Jada did not want to imagine.

  CHAPTER 33

  Dressed in his tuxedo, Darius roamed throughout his house searching for the keys to his L.A. home. Peeping out the window, the limousine driver was parked in his circular driveway.

  “Where are my damn keys?” Darius grunted, lifting the newspaper on his breakfast table. “This is bullshit!” Marrying Fancy was what Darius wanted but Ciara hadn’t signed the divorce papers. And there was no way he was going back to jail.

  Darius had no male friends so a few of his NBA teammates had agreed on short notice to stand in his wedding. All the guests his mother invited—her clients, her staff, her former staff, Ginger, Heather, and a few other women Darius had fucked—were probably seated in the first, second, and third pews. Certain Ciara would agree to his divorce terms after he’d promised to help her raise her son, Darius had encouraged Darryl to invite all of the guys Darryl played with in the NBA, their wives, and a few head coaches. Mom had said Wellington probably wouldn’t be at the wedding, but didn’t say why. Wasn’t that some shit? Darius knew exactly why. Now that Wellington was terminally ill, he wanted Darius’s mom to take care of him.

  If Darius married Ladycat before divorcing Ciara, his acting as though he was divorced would hit the paper before he signed the marriage license. Darius Jones arrested for bigamy. No way. Fancy would have to wait. If she loved him today, she’d still love him tomorrow.

  Exiting into his garage, Darius sat in his car pondering a destination. With so much
on his mind, this wasn’t a good time for Darius to drive. Walking back into his home, Darius tossed his car keys on the kitchen table, leaving his home keys and cellular in his pockets, and exited the front door.

  Hurrying to open the back door, the driver smiled. “Good morning, sir. It’s a beautiful day to get married. She sure is a lucky woman.”

  Quietly Darius settled into the backseat and instructed the driver, “Take me to Oakland.”

  “But sir, the wedding is here in Los Angeles.”

  “I’m not getting married today. Take me to Oakland.”

  “Certainly, sir.” The driver merged onto Interstate 5 North. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “Man, talking isn’t going to resolve my problems. I need to think.” Darius loosened his black wingtip collar trimmed in gold, stretched his long legs across the backseat, and lay his head on the black leather cushion.

  Two stops for gas and six hours later, Darius stood in front of Skates Restaurant in Berkeley. Bypassing the entrance, he continued his journey. Momentarily he stopped watching the ocean water splash upon the huge slime-covered boulders. The pier adjacent to Skates was sparsely scattered with fishermen.

  “This is bullshit,” Darius mumbled. Clump. Clump. Clump. Slowly Darius strolled, his heels banging every other wooden plank until he reached the end of the pier. Why was his life so bittersweet? A year and six months had passed since he’d met Fancy. Darius laughed internally. What a rollercoaster adventure. That woman was truly amazing. Beautiful inside and out. They had so much in common. Their loneliness, desires, need to be loved by someone who truly cared.

  Darius looked out over the ocean. Yachts. Sailboats. Sunshine. The eighty degrees of sunshine convinced Darius to remove his tuxedo coat and hang it over the rail.

  “Fuck!” Darius yelled over the waves splashing underneath the pier. “Man, you had to leave Los Angeles. Otherwise, you know you would’ve taken the vows.” Darius whispered, “I love you, Fancy.” For the first time, Darius was deeply in love. And it hurt not to be at that church taking vows he had every intention to keep. It felt like someone had stabbed him in his heart with disappointment continuously turning the pain over and over. Tears welled in his eyes.

  When his cellular rang, Darius inhaled deeply, debating on whether to answer Fancy’s call. The last one hundred and twenty-two calls all went to voice mail. His mom. Dad. Teammates. Darius wanted to press the TALK button and tell Fancy where he was but his fingers wouldn’t follow his brain’s command. Fancy’s name disappeared, adding one more missed call to his screen. One twenty-three. Twenty-three. His new NBA jersey number. The number of days his son had lived. “God, why me?” Darius softly cried.

  After Fancy’s call went to voice mail, Darius recorded an outgoing message. “This is Darius. Due to an unexpected emergency, I won’t be getting married today. If someone could give my mother, my family, and everyone else at the wedding this message or have them call and listen to this message, I’d appreciate it. I apologize for the inconvenience.” Darius hung up right before a wave of tears poured down his cheeks. Hopefully Fancy would forgive him.

  Spreading his arms wide, Darius yelled across the Pacific Ocean, “I love you, Fancy Taylor.”

  “I love you, too, Darius Jones,” sounded from behind him.

  Darius’s legs froze. Had he lost his mind? He must’ve been hearing things. Turning his upper torso, his feet remained planted. There she stood. His beautiful bride was dressed in the most elaborate gold gown. Fancy was more beautiful than he’d envisioned her walking down that aisle into his arms.

  “Ladycat, what are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in Los Angeles.”

  “I wasn’t surprised to see you here, Darius. We’re two of a kind. I realized I’m not ready for marriage. And I can’t give myself to you until I can give you all of me. I have to work on myself. My guilt about Thaddeus. My relationship with my mother is better but we still have a lot of healing to do. Both of us. And her baby, which you know I promised to take care of. I never thought about my mother’s childhood. She’s trying to overcome some horrible things that happened to her. And her parents never told her they loved her so she didn’t know how to love me. Just like I’m not sure if I know how to love me. Or you. But my mom and I are healing togeth—”

  Darius’s eyebrows grew closer as he interrupted, “But I need you, Ladycat. I don’t want to deal with these groupies jocking me all the time. I want you to be my wife. The real reason I didn’t show up at the church was . . .” Darius hesitated then continued, “I didn’t know how to tell you, Ciara didn’t sign the divorce papers. I can’t afford to become a bigamist. Don’t need the bad press. And damn sure ’nuff don’t need to get locked up again.”

  “Divorce papers? You’re already married and you never told me? I love you. The funny thing is, part of the reason I didn’t show up was because I wasn’t sure that you were ready for a wife. And I’m not going to settle for less than all of you. Darius, I don’t care about a piece of paper. I don’t need a license to show you how much I love you. For the first time in my life, I’m in love. And Darius Jones, I’m in love with you.”

  “I’m sorry, Ladycat. I didn’t think I had to tell you. I just knew Ciara would sign the papers. Especially after the paternity test showed I wasn’t the father of her child.”

  “Darius, I don’t believe you.” Fancy threw her veil into the ocean. “Ciara’s baby could’ve been yours. Desire’s baby could’ve been yours. And Ashlee’s baby was yours.”

  “I told you my life was complicated. But I’ve learned my lesson.”

  “No, you haven’t, Darius. I’m pregnant. And there’s no question that this baby I’m carrying inside of me is yours.”

  Darius swooped Fancy off of her feet and into his arms. Swinging her around, Darius yelled, “Ladycat, are you sure?!”

  “Yes, I’m positive.”

  Twirling Fancy until he became dizzy, Darius said, “Ladycat, you have made me the happiest man in the world! I love you, woman. I hope it’s a boy. You know how much I’ve suffered every day with the loss of my son.”

  “I know. And you know how much I suffered with the abortion of my child. We both need somebody to love other than ourselves. I couldn’t walk down that aisle without you knowing. And now that we’re pregnant, I love you even more, Darius.”

  “It feels good hearing you say you love me. And I’m going to do right by you.”

  Fancy placed her finger over Darius’s lips. “Let’s just take life one day at time. How’s that?”

  Darius smiled then kissed Fancy. “Perfect. For the first time in my life, my life is perfect.”

  Easing out of Darius’s arms, Fancy jumped on his back. “Let’s go.”

  Hopping all the way back to the limo, Darius gave Fancy a bouncy piggy-back ride. Arriving in front of Skates, Darius hopped then stopped. The homeless woman sat on a bench by the limousine brushing her wig.

  Darius froze as he silently heard the words, “Death follows you.”

  “Not her again,” Fancy said, sliding off of Darius’s back.

  Darius loved Fancy so much, but he’d rather be without her than to have her follow in his shadow of death. What about their unborn child?

  “This is the beginning of the ending for both of you. A few more hurdles and you’re there. Always stand in your own truth with yourselves and one another. Fancy, don’t forget to continue giving your love to your mother, too. Darius, one dark shadow lingers. Your father will need you before he passes away. Your mother needs you right now. Make the right choice. Merry Christmas.”

  Settling in the backseat of the limousine, Darius kissed Ladycat and said, “I love you,” then powered on his cellular and dialed his mother.

  Crying, his mother answered, “Darius, honey, I need—”

  “I already know, Mom. I’m on my way.”

  As Darius’s finger curled toward the END button, an incoming call from Ashlee appeared. Darius looked at Fancy as she stared at his ca
ller ID.

  “Answer it,” Fancy insisted.

  Pressing the TALK button, Darius said, “Hello.”

  “Darius, this is Ashlee.”

  “I know who it is. What’s up? Why are you calling me on my wedding day?”

  “I need to tell you something and, well, I didn’t want you to think I was trying to ruin your wedding but you need to know. And if you would’ve come to visit our son’s grave, I would’ve told you then.”

  “Ashlee, stop playing games. I gotta go. ’Bye.”

  “Darius, wait, “Ashlee pleaded in a trembling voice. “Please don’t hang up.”

  The more Fancy stared at him, the more frustrated Darius had become. Yelling at Ashlee, Darius screamed, “What? Ashlee! What the fuck is it?”

  Crying, Ashlee softly said, “You remember how I never told you the cause of our son’s death?”

  Darius stopped breathing. The last thing he wanted to think about was death. “Ashlee, why? Why now? Why are you doing this to me?”

  “I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. And no matter what, I love you. But you need to know.”

  Exhaling, Darius softly said, “Then tell me.”

  Crying, Ashlee said, “Our son, Darius Junior, died from HIV complications.”

  “And you?” Darius whispered.

  Sniffling, Ashlee said, “Positive.”

  The numbness in Darius’s body caused the cellular phone to slip from between his fingers.

  Picking up the phone, Fancy questioned Ashlee. “What did you tell him?” Fancy looked at the phone, then said, “Hello? Hello?” Staring at Darius, Fancy began crying along with him. She muttered, “She hung up. Please tell me. What did she say?”