At twelve-forty five, I’m in my bedroom getting dressed. I ordered a silver-and-gold two-piece beaded caftan from Neiman Marcus. The silver-and-gold sandals look like they were hand-made for a princess. I purchased the matching oversized rhinestone jewelry at Joseph’s. I take my time applying my makeup and immediately feel youthful as I apply a final coat of lip gloss.
The band starts playing at two sharp, and some guests arrive early, eager to get the party started.
Kai surprises me and comes down for support. Herman arrives at two-thirty dressed for success in an off-white Adolpho suit and cream-colored alligator shoes. He’s giving Kai all of his attention.
When I enter the tent with Kai and Herman at three, the place is packed with smiling guests. I walk around, mingle, and hand out compliments. By three-fifteen, I stand up in front and deliver a prepared speech.
“Thank you, friends and relatives for coming to my party this afternoon. We’re here today to celebrate my new contract and the success of my book, Revelations. This is the first time that I’ve made the New York Times bestsellers list.” There is a loud applause. “Thank you. I consider everyone here tonight very special people that I care deeply about.”
“You’ve probably heard about the problems that Lynzee and I are having and her upcoming lawsuit. I assure you that my attorneys have the matter under control. It’s unfortunate that something like this had to happen between two sisters, but sometimes life is stranger than fiction. Sibling rivalry has been going on for ages and will continue to be a contention between family members long after I’m gone. Just know that I wish my sister well. I wish her all of the success in the world. But know that she’s met her match. I will not rest until I’m victorious in this civil suit. My attorneys have assured me as much, because everything I wrote in Revelations is true, and the truth will vindicate me.”
I turn to Kai. She hands me a flute of champagne. “Here’s to victory. May the best woman win.” I smile and take a long sip of the bubbly liquid. There’s another round of applause.
“Now, let’s get this party started!” I turn the event back over to the band.
A wet bar is set up in the far left corner and there’s a line three feet deep.
The party is costing me almost a hundred thousand dollars, but it doesn’t bother me. It’s lifted my spirits and helped me put Jett’s and my relationship into perspective. If Jett won’t listen to reason and go to see a marriage counselor with me, then I’ll accept the divorce and move forward with my life as a single woman. I’m still attractive. I’m still marriage material. Maybe I’ll be like Javed and find me a rich African man. Who knows?
The band is set up in the front, off to the left. They’re a group of six and their name is Strike Force Three. Javed and Jamone found them for me. I love the fact that they have a female lead singer, Ashley Hill. She sounds like a songbird.
Thankfully, my guests aren’t shy, and the dance floor fills up quickly. Even Javed and Jamone are on the dance floor doing their thing. Since Jett isn’t here, Javed brings his African girlfriend, Misty, to the event. It doesn’t bother me one bit. I just want him to be happy.
At six-thirty, the outside torches are lit, and a line forms for dinner. Trash cans are strategically placed around the tent, and the partygoers don’t make too much of a mess.
I dance with Herman three times, and notice that Kai has danced with him at least five.
By ten-thirty, the guests come over to thank me and head home. By eleven-fifteen, the tent is nearly empty. Kai and Herman are on the dance floor, slow dancing to the last song of the evening.
“Mrs. Evans,” the supervisor from Hilton’s says, “we’ll have everything cleaned up in just over an hour.”
“Thank you.”
“Jimmy,” I call out to the senior chef, “could you make sure that the food is taken to the food kitchen downtown? I’m sure that the homeless people would be happy to have this food.”
He agrees and starts to seal up the food. In no time, he’s got the food in aluminum trays to transfer to the shelter. I pay him and give him a two hundred dollar tip. He thanks me and asks me to contact him again if I ever need a chef.
I kiss Kai and Herman goodnight. Both say they had a great time.
“We have to do this again,” Kai says.
“I agree. And soon.”
“I concur,” Herman adds, smiling. “I’m going to say my good nights to you two. Good night, Kai. You were wonderful.” He kisses her hand and turns to me. “I’ll call you tomorrow, Charity. I’ve got something to talk to you about.” He kisses me on the cheek and leaves.
Kai shakes her head. She looks gorgeous in a black beaded mini-dress. “I’m sorry, Charity. That man is not gay.”
I watch Herman as he walks to his car. “I’m beginning to wonder myself.”
I wave good-bye to Kai in the morning. We hug and promise to keep up our weekly Sunday conversations. Seeing her leave, I feel nostalgic. Kai has really been there for me since Jett left. I only hope that I can be as supportive for her if she ever needs a shoulder to cry on.
It hurts me to know that Kai is almost too old to bear children. She’ll turn forty-one in August. After she divorced her husband in 1996, she planned on getting married again and having at least two children. I wish she hadn’t moved to Nashville, because the shortage of men is not a secret. She’s had a few serious relationships, but nothing solid. Kai is a super aunt to her niece and nephew, Juhrissa and Jahvel. They’re both grown now, but Kai continues to support them financially, academically, and spiritually. Without question, Kai would have been an excellent mother. I pray every day that a miracle will happen and Kai is able to find a husband and birth a child.
34
Hey, Bitch. You think you slick, but I just want you to know you a low-life, conniving heifer with what you did, having that party. My so-called friends that attended aren’t really my friends. My true friends were here with me, partying and hating your fucking guts….
The following Monday, I’m greeted with a nasty e-mail from Lynzee. Apparently having my party on the same day as hers really hit a nerve. She didn’t mention how many people showed, but I know that it was much lower than she expected. She ended her message by saying that April and Jett are getting along famously. And, she asks, did I know that Jett was in the process of moving April to Memphis?
That last tidbit cuts a hole in my heart. If Jett and I ever get back together, April is definitely going to be a problem. I can’t understand why he wants her to move here. Fortunately, I’m told, she is still able to keep her job as a flight attendant at Northwest Airlines. Jett knows that he can’t afford this kind of expense right now. I heard that sales are down at King Ford. Only the big wigs are making money.
It’s getting easier for me to go to sleep at night without Jett. Sure, I miss him. I miss his smell. I miss his soft feet caressing mine. I miss his arm thrown casually over my waist. I miss his light snoring. I miss watching the late night news with him. I miss my old husband, not this conniving character who’s taken his place.
35
The trial is set to start next Monday. My attorney, Teddy Bell, states that he’s more than ready to take on the infamous Lynzee Lavender. We’re in his office downtown on Main Street. He has three other partners, and two of them are working on this case with him.
“Just so you know, Mrs. Evans, your sister has amended her suit to ten million dollars.”
“That bitch,” I mumble under my breath.
“Her attorney states that since you just received a new contract, you can well afford it.”
“I don’t believe it. Can she really amend the amount of her suit?”
“Yes, as long as she does it before the trial begins.”
I’m angrier than a mouse caught in a trap. That heffa wants to take me for every dime I’ve got, and every dollar I’ll make in the future. Right now, I can’t stand that cow.
“How long do you think the trial will last?”
�
�When she first filed and her attorney listed her witnesses, I figured the trial would be over in two to three weeks.” He sighed. “But now she’s tripled the amount of witnesses that she plans to use to testify. It seems that quite a few of her old college friends are coming to her rescue. That means we’re looking at six to eight weeks.”
“Damn. That time frame doesn’t work well with my schedule.”
“Oh, I thought you worked at home.”
“I do, but I’m supposed to start classes next month. There’s no way that I can go to class and be at this trial.” Damn that bitch.
“Would you like me to ask the judge for a postponement?”
I get up from the chair. “No. Let’s just get this over with. I’m ready to go on with my life the way it used to be.”
The following Monday, the trial starts. Javed and Jamone accompany me to Circuit Court at 201 Poplar Avenue. I want them to see how scandalous their aunt can be. I spot Lynzee in a yellow shirt dress, getting a drink of water at the water fountain.
I look around to see if she brought April with her, but I don’t see her. I train my eyes on Lynzee’s form and slow down my steps. Jamone notices Lynzee and grips my arm. “C’mon, Mom, let’s get into the courtroom. Your attorney is waiting for you.”
Just then, Lynzee looks toward us and waves. The look on her face is one of pity. Javed says, “Ignore her, Mom.”
Lynzee is mouthing, “Look at me. Look at what you made me do.”
I want to tell her, “Look at me, bitch. I’m you’re fucking sister, not your enemy. Don’t fuck with me now.”
I turn my head away and walk into the courtroom. Teddy is waiting at the defense table along with two of his partners, James Anderson and Ashton Woods. I shake their hands and take a seat. The boys sit directly behind me.
I hear chairs shuffling across from me. I sneak a glance to my right. Lynzee is sitting at the plaintiff’s table with her two attorneys. Teddy told me that their names are Arthur Dinkins and William Walker. Dinkins and Walter are prominent attorneys from California. Ordinarily the trial would have been held in California, but Teddy managed to get a change of venue because of Lynzee’s popularity, so that the trial could be held here in Tennessee. He claimed that we wouldn’t be able to find an impartial jury in Lynzee’s home state.
Less than ten minutes later the bailiff reads the complaint. “Lynzee Lavender versus Charity Lavender Evans.” Then he says, “All stand. The honorable Judge Cathy Fudge is presiding.”
The judge pounds her gavel. She makes it clear that she won’t tolerate any outbursts in her courtroom, and that this is going to be a fair trial for both sides. She acknowledges the jury then nods to Mr. Bell to begin his opening arguments.
Teddy stands up and unbuttons his jacket. He slowly walks toward the jury and then stops. He’s wearing a double breasted houndstooth Calvin Klein suit, and has on black tasseled loafers. He complemented his look with a red power tie. He looks like a winner. I feel proud that he’s my attorney.
“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, we are here today to prove that my client, Charity Lavender Evans, is not guilty of maliciously slandering her accuser, Lynzee Lavender.” He begins to pace back and forth in front of the jury box. “Through a series of highly respected witnesses, we will show that not only is my client not guilty, but Lynzee Lavender is guilty of sabotaging my client’s career. Let the records show that my client and I are countersuing for ten million dollars.”
He clears his throat. “I realize that some of you might be aware of the infamous Lynzee Lavender. You may know that she is one of the best-selling African American writers in modern history. I applaud her for that. My client, Ms. Lavender Evans, is also a New York Times bestselling author and is famous in her own right.”
Lynzee glances at me and rolls her eyes. I roll mine back and turn away from her and her team.
Mr. Bell continues. “Yet we are not here this morning to acknowledge who is the better writer. We’re here to determine if my client deliberately tried to defame Ms. Lavender’s career and name. I will show that my client’s book, Revelations, did not reveal anything about Ms. Lavender’s personal life that was not already known in the public sector….”
I turn around and look at my boys. They’re both wearing suits and look like collegiate gentlemen. I’m so proud of them.
Teddy finishes his summation and the judge turns the floor over to Arthur Dinkins. He stands, unbuttoning his jacket as he does so. He has on a navy blue single-breasted suit, also with a red tie, and black square-toe shoes. He briskly walks over to the jury. He paces back and forth for a few minutes, seemingly to get his thoughts together.
“Mr. Dinkins, are you prepared to give your opening statement?” the judge asks.
“I am, Your Honor.” He walks back to his table and extends his arm toward Lynzee. “This is my client, Ms. Lynzee Lavender. As Mr. Bell stated, she’s a successful African American science fiction writer. She has a total of fourteen million books in print. She is highly respected in the publishing industry and commands twenty-five thousand dollars per speaking engagement. Before Ms. Lavender Evans wrote Revelations, Ms. Lavender’s first printings of her science fiction novels were at least five hundred thousand. After Ms. Lavender Evans’ book was published and my client’s personal business was made public, my client’s book sales remained stable, but her speaking engagements ended.
“Because of Ms. Evans’ revelation about my client’s bachelor and masters degrees, she was subjected to unprecedented humiliation, as the college boards went through her background with a fine-toothed comb. They concluded that Ms. Evans’ allegations were false and unfounded, but the damage is done. Now my client’s ethics are in question.
“You may ask: how is that possible?” He turns and points at me. “I will show through a series of testimonies by men and women of integrity and character that Ms. Lavender Evans is the culprit behind my client’s defamation of character. I will show that with malice and sheer envy…”
They eyes of the people of the jury are boring into me. Some look bewildered and some actually look mad. I glance at Teddy, who pats my hand. I feel the twins patting my back. I fight back tears. The truth is finally going to come out, and I’m not sure that I’ll be the victor.
My God, where is my husband when I need him the most? I need him here beside me to support me and let me know that everything is going to be all right. I need him to give me that winning smile that lets me know that his love for me and my love for him is all that matters in life. I need him to tell me that April couldn’t possibly mean as much to him as our sons do. I need him to tell me that he understands why I kept April’s birth a secret for so long. I need him to tell me that he forgives me for not being perfect, for making a mistake in judgment. I need him to tell me that nothing will ever stop him from loving me and our sons. I need him to hold me. Lord, God, I need him now.
36
As each day of the trial progresses, my hatred toward Lynzee grows. The plaintiff’s attorney presents their case first, and their witnesses are doing a helluva job making me look like an opportunist.
Mr. Dinkins’ first witness is Danielle Robeson. She owns the African Heritage Bookstore in Chicago. When she gets sworn in and then takes her seat, my heart sinks. When I notice that she’s rolling her eyes at me, my heart sinks even deeper. Why did I have to open my big mouth? Especially to her. I thought she liked me. Why would she turn against me? When I was at her bookstore for a book signing for New Collar Blues, she told me that she loved my writing. She also told me that she thought I was a better writer than Lynzee. She told me that a lot of her customers felt the same way. That’s when stupid me let my guard down and boldly said that I wanted to be the first African American author to sell a million hardcover books. Danielle told me that if I kept writing the way I was, it was only a matter of time before I could claim that title. I believed the bitch.
Teddy asks Ms. Robeson, “What was the tone of voice that Charity Lavender used when s
he spoke with you at your store?”
Ms. Robeson Shrugs. “I don’t know what you mean?”
“Did you think she was joking?”
“No. I don’t think—”
“Or was it just a casual comment?” Teddy asks.
Ms. Robeson thinks for a moment. “She wasn’t joking. I think she was dead serious.”
“Have you ever seen Charity Lavender socially?”
“No.”
“Have you ever had conversations with her on the telephone?”
“No.” Ms. Robeson looks annoyed. She glances at Lynzee.
Teddy has a stern look on his face. “So, you don’t really know my client?”
“I didn’t say that I did. I only know what she said.”
“How my client said what she said is what’s important here today. I believe that my client was joking about being the first African American female to sell a million hardcover copies.”
“No, she was dead serious.” Ms. Robeson crosses her arms across her bosom.
“By your own account, you don’t really know my client. So there was no way that you would know if she was serious or joking.”
“I know what I heard. And I know that she’s jealous of her sister’s success.”
Teddy scratches his head. “I intend to prove otherwise, Ms. Robeson. Thank you for your enlightening testimony. You may step down.”
When Teddy takes a seat at our table, he winks at me. I smile back. He may have gained ground on Ms. Robeson’s testimony, but I fear things will only get worse. I chastise myself silently for having such a big mouth.
My crucifixion continues. Witness after witness makes me out to be a woman who would do anything to outdo her sister, a writer who would lie and cheat to make the New York Times. One witness even accuses me of plagiarism in New Collar Blues. She says that I stole lines from Harold Robbins’ book, The Betsy. That was a bold-faced lie.
We Ain’t the Brontës Page 16