If You Don't Know Me

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If You Don't Know Me Page 16

by Mary B. Morrison


  “How much longer is reasonable?” I asked him.

  “Uncomplicated recovery from breast augmentations is typically five days but I say give her thirty.”

  Was he serious? Five days?

  “No more than thirty days.”

  “I withdraw the objection and request a thirty-day continuance.”

  “Your Honor, on behalf of my client, I request ninety days. We have a few people to subpoena,” Madison’s attorney said.

  “Thirty days continuance is granted,” the judge said then told the clerk, “Check the calendar.”

  After going back and forth on an available date for everyone’s schedule, we were well after Thanksgiving, which was this week, and closer to Christmas. Somehow I knew Madison would use the holiday to get a continuance to the continuance.

  Shaking my head, I strolled out of the courtroom. “Can you believe she told me just this morning that the recovery period was a few months?”

  Chaz was right behind me. “You don’t need me to answer that. I keep telling you man, let her ass go.” Getting in the car, my brother said, “Fuck that bitch! Put her out of your condo and take care of your son.”

  I dialed my mother. Connected the call to my car’s Bluetooth.

  “Hey, honey. Are you officially a single man?”

  “No,” Chaz answered. “The judge denied his release. Now he’s on a thirty-day probation.”

  Narrowing my eyes at my brother, I listened to our mother. “Is he serious?”

  “Something like that. We have a continuance. I don’t want to discuss it. How’s Zach?”

  “He’s fine. Sleeping.”

  “I’ll be by tonight to get him. We have to get to the office for a few meetings.”

  “I love you,” my mother said.

  Hearing those words always made me feel better. “I love you too, Ma.”

  “Me too!” Chaz shouted right before I ended the call.

  The drive to the office was quiet. I parked in my reserved space. Walking into my office, I told Chaz, “I have to let go and let God take the wheel on this one, man.”

  Chaz patted me on the back. “Faith without work is dead. You’re going to need more than roses. Me too. How about we get to work? Let’s go visit our jeweler.”

  CHAPTER 29

  Sindy

  I was about to go all in for a man who didn’t know how much I loved him.

  Roosevelt was a good guy. I couldn’t blame his parents and say, “They gave that man no home training.” The DuBoises had educated and emotionally supported their boys. Roosevelt was not one of the many men who had grown up without a father in the house.

  Martin was an excellent father. He’d shown by example how a man should treat his wife. He was wealthy but I’d never heard him speak ill of poor people or those with less. The DuBoises were a proud family. Perhaps that pride they’d instilled in their sons was what was keeping Roosevelt tied to Madison.

  Being around Roosevelt’s family in the suite on game day, I loved to watch their interactions. I knew Madison was kicking herself for having slept with Granville but I was not going to ease her blows. If Roosevelt had listened to Chaz, he would’ve never married Madison. But if Roosevelt hadn’t married Madison, there wouldn’t have been a reason for Chaz to introduce us.

  I appreciated that Chaz was straightforward. Numbiya and others did not have to assume what was on his mind. Chaz did what made him happy. Roosevelt did what made others happy.

  As I drove through the older neighborhood of Houston, I noticed that the single-family homes were closer in proximity than where I resided in River Oaks. I had ten thousand square feet; the houses I passed averaged two thousand. This area had generational ownership. We had that in our community too. What we lacked, one could not place a price on—company.

  My mother believed in inviting family and friends over but in this neighborhood, family and friends did not need an invite. They just showed up at the front door and if it was open, they’d walk in. I noticed a few trailers on lawns adjacent to houses. The grass was partially brown. I’d never seen that in my part of town.

  I parked in the driveway. Walking up four wooden steps, I pulled the screen then knocked on the door. We hadn’t met since I’d last visited him behind bars.

  “Coming.”

  I wasn’t sure if I’d heard “coming” or “come in.” I waited.

  Nyle Carter opened the door. “Hey, good to see you. You look great.”

  “Good to see you’re taking care of yourself.”

  The red fitted halter maxi dress I’d put on this morning was appropriate. Seventy degrees was the temperature an hour ago. Eighty had settled in and it wasn’t noon. The projected high was ninety-seven.

  “Just trying to decide what I want to pursue.” He paused then added, “Legally.”

  “May I?” I said gesturing to enter.

  Nyle stepped aside. “Whatever the reason, I know you didn’t come all this way to stand on my porch. My apology. May I offer you something to drink? Water? Wine? Both?”

  “A glass of chardonnay please. How’s your son, Landry?”

  “Thanks to the support from your nonprofit, he’s settled into college. Doing great.”

  Sitting on his sofa, I noticed framed pictures of Nyle and his son. His wife was conspicuously absent. There were no photos of a woman, not even his mother. The hardwood floor could benefit from polishing but at least it was clean.

  “Here you go,” he said handing me a glass. He placed the bottle on the table, sat beside me, then raised his glass. “To freedom.”

  “To freedom.” He was glad to have it. I never wanted to be without it.

  Waking up, setting my schedule, not needing permission from anyone to deviate was what I considered living the American dream. Getting married, buying a home, and having children weren’t things to aspire to if a person wasn’t financially ready. All three components of the “dream” meant creating debt, not wealth.

  “If you’re here to ask me to do anything illegal,” he adamantly said, “Forget about it.”

  “I changed my mind about your pursuing the rumor of Granville attempting to kill Roosevelt. You took off everything you put on social media like I told you?”

  Nyle exhaled. “Yes. Thank you. What about the video and pics I have of Sarah Lee Washington’s grave? There was a gun in her coffin.”

  Why was I not surprised? “Where is it?”

  He nodded toward a room I couldn’t see.

  “Give me everything you have.”

  Rushing into the room, Nyle returned with a small black laptop bag. “It’s all there. I’m done with this?”

  “Yes, you’re done.”

  “What you want from me now? Is it legal?” he asked.

  Quietly, he filled his mouth with wine, swished it around, then swallowed. He raised his brows, stared at me. His blond hair was neatly trimmed. Nails, well manicured. His white button-down shirt was crisp.

  I nodded. “I need you to do this tomorrow.”

  His eyes remained fixed on mine. “What’s in it for me?”

  “After I tell you, you tell me.”

  “Fair.” He took another swallow. This time he didn’t swish. “I’m listening.”

  “I need you to purchase a property.”

  “What Realtor is it listed with?”

  I’d trained Nyle well. He didn’t ask why I needed this favor. “It’s not. It’s an all-cash transaction.”

  “How much cash?”

  “Two million.”

  The wine in his mouth almost landed on me the way my father’s blood splattered on Granville. He covered his mouth.

  “And why can’t you buy it yourself?”

  “They won’t sell to me direct. How much for you?”

  “One hundred—”

  “Twenty thousand?”

  He nodded. That was the standard six percent commission for a listing between two real estate agents. I countered the split rate. “Sixty thousand.”

&n
bsp; “Ninety,” he said.

  “Deal. I’ll have everything arranged by ten in the morning. I need your part complete by noon.”

  “What if they refuse?”

  I stood, sat my glass on the table, then confidently said, “They won’t.”

  It was time to make my next move.

  CHAPTER 30

  Madison

  Pulling the sheet up to my neck, I asked, “What are you doing here?”

  The last person I expected to see at the hospital was Vermont. A phone call would’ve sufficed. My new breasts were perfectly shaped. Higher. Fuller. Rounder. There was no way I could hide these twins. I wasn’t going to burn my bras but I definitely didn’t need them.

  My attorney’s eyes focused on my erect nipples. His dick grew longer. I ignored it. The doctor warned me it was natural for people, especially men, to become distracted by the attractiveness. I gave him a moment of silence.

  Time up. To redirect his attention, I said, “I’d given thought to giving in and moving on.” Being a single mom wasn’t the worst thing that could happen. I’d rather parent alone than deal with Granville. Perhaps I should be strong and continue what I’d started with my husband.

  Papa shouldn’t have told Mama about the paternity test. I hadn’t asked him to intervene. That man never did what was in anyone else’s best interest. To take another test meant confessing to Roosevelt for a crime I did not commit. Nor was I an accomplice. My husband wouldn’t believe me.

  Vermont held my hand. “How are you feeling?”

  Tears clouded my eyes. Was the settlement that bad he had to tell me in person? “The procedure went well. I’m in a lot of pain emotionally and physically.”

  “You focus on getting healthier,” he said, then smiled. “I come bearing good news that will definitely cheer you up.”

  “Really?” Between the headache the medication had caused and the throbbing in my breasts, I couldn’t smile.

  The enthusiasm in his groin shifted. “The first twenty-four to forty-eight hours after any surgery are expected to be hard.” Standing beside my bed, he covered my hand with his. “When are you going home?” he asked.

  “If all goes well, day after tomorrow. I chose to stay an extra day. I’m in no hurry to deal with my situation. Was she there?” I had to know.

  “Who’s she?”

  Exhaling, I stated, “Sindy.”

  Vermont shook his head. “Her being in the courtroom wouldn’t have helped his case. I want you to take your time, dear. Your divorce is not final yet. I got you a thirty-day continuation. He should see what he’s missing. If you want to subpoena Sindy, let’s do it right now. You can’t sue for alienation but you can make her uncomfortable if Roosevelt is pursuing her. And you’re going to ask for half of everything, including that ten million dollars his grandfather gave him. Doesn’t hurt to ask. All the cards are in your favor, Madison.”

  My eyes widened. I forced a smile. “We go to court before Christmas.”

  “Right before Christmas. Clever, huh?” He flicked his brows. “You can pay me later,” he said as he kissed my forehead and released my hand. “I’ve got to go. Take care of yourself and Roosevelt’s son.”

  Vermont was brilliant! I felt another continuance coming. Roosevelt would have to juggle being a father to Zach, his football schedule. I paused my thoughts, then continued thinking. With Chaz as his assistant, Roosevelt’s being able to take time off from work may not be a competing factor. Obviously, Vermont had a plan. I should’ve asked him to fluff the pillow behind my head so I could relax. I reached for the remote to page the nurse.

  Papa entered with a dozen white roses. “There’s my sweetheart. How are you?” He kissed my forehead then placed the bouquet across my lap.

  “Hold my flowers closer and let me smell them, Papa.” I inhaled a healing fragrance.

  One rose or a dozen—the number was not more important than the scent. Roses that had no smell were disappointing.

  “I have the best news ever, Papa!”

  This time Papa placed the bouquet on the stand in the corner. Though my words were a normal tone, in my heart I’d shouted from the top of the highest building in Houston, the JPMorgan Chase Tower.

  Papa sat in the chair next to my bed. He didn’t hold my hand the way Vermont had done. That would’ve been nice but Papa wasn’t very affectionate. I imagined the young girls he’d had sex with were strictly for his pleasure, not theirs.

  “I’m great now. Helen is keeping Zach until my release.”

  “What? Madison, you know that woman can’t be trusted. Did she volunteer to keep the baby? Or did Roosevelt leave him with her? I’ll have Rosalee go get him.”

  What difference did that make? “If she bonds with Zach, maybe she’ll accept me too.” I was not concerned with Helen. What could she do? Make Granville take . . . “Call Mama and tell her to get my baby.”

  Papa put his cell on speaker. It rang twice. Mama answered, “How’s Madison doing?”

  “She’s fine, honeybunch.”

  Honeybunch? Haven’t heard my father call Mom that in years. Did that mean Mama had forgiven him again?

  “Look, we need you to pick Zach up from Helen’s.”

  “Is she expecting me?” my mother asked.

  “She will be,” I said.

  “Call back when she is. I’m not going to that woman’s house unannounced. Steve Harvey is going off. Madison, I’ll be by to visit in an hour.”

  Mom had really changed. Her voice. Her attitude. The old Rosalee would’ve picked Zach up without asking questions.

  I looked at Papa. He was the one who couldn’t be trusted. I didn’t have the energy to argue. “I go home in two days. Mama can get Zach from Helen’s then and bring him to me at the condo. How are you?”

  Papa moved from the chair and sat on the side of my bed. “I’m good. I’ve been taking your mother out more. I’d forgotten how much that woman means to me. I’m not fooling around with those young girls anymore. I owe you an apology for how I disrespected your mother.”

  Was that an apology or a confession? I wished I had the strength to push him off of my bed. “Move, Papa.”

  He inched closer. “I know it’s hard for you to accept but I don’t want to die mistreating the two women I love the most.” He held my hand.

  Maybe I should let him have this moment. “I’m glad you realized Mama is worthy of being treated like your woman and your wife. I’m fighting for my marriage too. The divorce isn’t final. My being in the hospital and having the baby got me a thirty-day continuance.”

  Papa whispered, “Sweetheart. God is giving both of us another chance. You must never tell a soul that I’m responsible for influencing the test results. The three of us must take this secret to our graves.”

  Mama was the unpredictable one now. She’d probably intentionally waited to visit me alone. I knew she’d try to convince me to do the right thing. Stop contesting the divorce. Tell Roosevelt that Zach may not be his. Have another paternity test. When she arrived to visit, I’d have to ask her to side with Papa and me and keep our secret.

  I said, “You did say you paid for the results but you weren’t sure.”

  “I’m pretty sure that Granville is the biological father.”

  “Based on what, Papa?” I wanted to strangle him.

  “I’d rather not say.”

  CHAPTER 31

  Sindy

  “I need to do a two million dollar transaction.”

  En route from Nyle’s house to JPMorgan, I called my investment banker. She responded, “Let me guess, an all-cash property acquisition.”

  She was right but my business wasn’t hers. “Make the cashier’s check payable to Roosevelt DuBois.”

  “I stand corrected,” she said. “Unless you’re purchasing his place.”

  Her comments were distracting. “Make the cashier’s check payable to Nyle Carter. I’ll see you in a few,” I said ending the call.

  Normally, I’d chat a few minutes wi
th her. Ask how her family was doing. I didn’t have time for frivolous chatter. I’d accomplished a lot already today. I hoped Granville hadn’t spent any of the money I’d given him, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he had. Nyle would get his check as promised. With a few more stops to make after the bank, I decided to stop at Avalon for a jalapeno Swiss cheeseburger, fries, and a strawberry shake.

  Sitting at the counter, I ordered lunch, then I called Numbiya.

  “Hey, queen. Where are you?”

  “Grabbing a bite at Avalon in River Oaks,” I replied scanning through my e-mails.

  “I could really enjoy a juicy bleu cheese bacon burger. Things are slow today. I can be there in fifteen minutes.”

  Hearing Numbiya’s voice lightened my spirit. I could use her company. Waiting for my girlfriend meant I’d be here for at least an hour. I’d make it to the bank in time to get the check but I wasn’t sure I’d be on time for my other appointments.

  “Let’s do dinner,” I said while responding to a text message.

  “Okay.” The smile in her voice made me smile until she said, “Roosevelt’s divorce isn’t final.”

  My food arrived but I didn’t have an appetite. “I’ll see you tonight. Talk with you then. Bye.” Ending the call, I placed twenty dollars on the counter and left.

  Contemplating whether to follow through with my plans, I sat in my car. State Representative Harold V. Dutton Jr. parked his black Cadillac Escalade next to my Bentley.

  I lowered my window. “Thanks for bills on education, inmates’ right to vote, and blocking the abortion law.”

  “My pleasure.” His voice was deep and sultry. I’d heard him speak on several occasions. He’d always spoken the same as I’d heard him on television. “That’s why I’m in office. To serve the community,” he said before heading into Avalon.

  He was also an attorney. Practicing. I wondered if anything bothered him or as a politician, everything was rationalized. Seeing him was no accident. I had no idea why Roosevelt’s divorce wasn’t final but my decision to continue my journey was clear.

 

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