by La Jill Hunt
Paisley looked over at him and he took her hand into his. She loved him. He was her friend, still the best of friends after all this time. He needed her. She wanted to be there for him.
“I love you,” he said.
“I love you too,” she replied.
The glare of beaming headlights caused both of them to look ahead. He leaned on the horn and she closed her eyes as she braced herself for the impact she knew was coming. Tires screeched and pain seared through her body as her world faded to black.
Chapter 1
“Tell him I’ll call him later. I don’t have time to meet. I have a family emergency. Scooter has everything else under control. If you need anything, just call him.”
For a moment, Paisley thought she was dreaming about her friend, Diesel. But as she struggled to open her eyes, she realized that it wasn’t a dream and he was standing in front of her, talking into his cell phone. She blinked, trying to focus. Pain radiated through her body like ripples of fire, causing her to instantly squeeze her eyes shut and moan.
“Paisley, hey, it’s okay.” She heard Diesel’s baritone voice.
“Oh, God,” she whispered, struggling to breathe.
“Let me get a nurse,” Diesel told her.
“Nurse?” She tried to think, but she was in too much pain.
Moments later, he returned with a small brunette who smiled at her as she fumbled with the IV that, she now noticed, was running into her arm.
“This will take the edge off some of the pain, Ms. Lawrence. I just need to get some quick vitals on you.”
“What the hell happened to me?” Paisley’s voice cracked as she strained to talk.
“You were in an accident, Paisley. A bad one, too. You’re lucky to still be with us, girl,” Diesel smiled and gently touched her face.
Paisley suddenly felt light-headed. The pain subsided and she fought the drowsiness. “An accident? What the hell? Is my truck totaled?”
“Paisley, you weren’t driving.” Diesel glanced over at the nurse who was watching the blood pressure monitor, which was squeezing Paisley’s arm.
“Ahhh.” Paisley grimaced.
“I’m sorry.” The nurse gave her a sympathetic look.
“This is crazy, Diesel. What are you talking about? I don’t know what’s going on,” Paisley told him.
“It happened late last night, Paisley. The car you were riding in had a head-on collision.” Diesel sighed. “I’m just glad you’re all right. Man, we were worried.”
“You didn’t have to do that.” Paisley could feel herself dozing off. She looked over at Diesel. He was truly one of her best friends, more like a brother. They met during her “wild days” when she was seventeen, living on her own and trying to make ends meet by tending bar in a strip club called Shorty’s. He convinced her to enter a sexy swimsuit contest he and his friend, Scooter, were having at a club near the college. She won the contest five weeks in a row, then he helped her land her first role in a rap video and their beautiful friendship was born.
“Ms. Lawrence, the doctor will be here shortly to check on you. Buzz me if you need anything,” the nurse said.
“Thanks.” Paisley’s eyes closed and she nodded her head.
“Is she awake?”
Okay, whatever that nurse put in my IV is making me hallucinate, for real, Paisley thought. She turned her head and, sure enough, walking through the door was Seymone Davis. It had been almost a year since Paisley had seen the woman she at one time had considered her best friend.
“Yeah, she’s talking,” Diesel answered.
Seymone leaned over and whispered, “Paisley, can you hear me?”
“Yes, Seymone. What the hell are you doing here? Diesel, I know you didn’t call her.” Paisley gave him an ugly look.
“No, actually, she called me.” Diesel shrugged.
“And she called me. You would think that you would be a little nicer to your friend considering she was the name listed as your next of kin rather than me, and I’m your own mother.”
At the sound of her mother’s voice, Paisley knew one of two things had to be taking place. Either she had died and was truly in hell, or God, with his warped sense of humor, had allowed her to survive the car accident and was about to make her life a living hell. The pain she was feeling let her know that she was far from dead, and although she was truly shocked to see Seymone, she prayed that the image of Emma Jean Lawrence standing before her was a result of the drugs the nurse had just given her. Diesel’s phone rang, breaking the silence that seemed to engulf the room.
“I gotta take this call,” he said, and rushed out the door.
“Uh, I’m gonna run down to the cafeteria,” Seymone quietly said. Paisley gave her a threatening look, which she pretended to ignore. “You need anything, Paisley?”
“No, Seymone, thanks. You’ve done more than enough.”
“I’ll bring you some coffee back, Mrs. Lawrence,” Seymone said to Paisley’s mother.
“Thanks, honey. I certainly appreciate that,” Mrs. Lawrence said.
“It’s no problem.” Seymone smiled and eased out of the room.
When the hell did they become BFFs, she wondered. Suddenly realizing that she was alone with her mother, Paisley closed her eyes and prayed that she would fall asleep and wake up from the dreaded nightmare she seemed to be living at that moment.
Seymone
Paisley Janelle Lawrence has got to be the most arrogant, selfish, self-centered creature God ever created. I guarantee that if the tables were turned and it was she who had gotten a call at two o’clock in the morning telling her that I had been in a car accident, you’d better believe her reaction woulda been, “And?” But, did I do that? No, my dumb ass dropped everything and rushed to her bedside. For the past two days, I’ve been worrying, crying, praying; trying to survive off of little to no sleep and stale-ass hospital coffee. This is some straight bull . . . Why am I even here? Here I am, trying to do the right thing and this is the thanks I get.
Bobby, her fiancé, told her that she was crazy for rushing to be here. He told her that Paisley was going to hurt her feelings and it was a waste of time and money. Money, like they had to worry about money. The fastest running back in the NFL, he had just gotten traded to the Falcons, and signed major endorsement deals with Nike and Frito-Lay. Not that she was broke. The hundred and thirty to a hundred and fifty grand she was making a year wasn’t anywhere near what he made. But then again, since dating him, she wasn’t working as much, at his request. It was as if he could sense her thinking about him; she looked down at her vibrating cell phone.
“Hey, baby,” she sighed as she answered it.
“When are you bringing your ass back home?”
Chapter 2
Heavenly Father, thank you for sparing my life . . . for watching over me and allowing me to live. I know that by letting me survive this, you have more for me to do, more work for me to accomplish; my purpose and will for my life has yet to be fulfilled—and I swear, God, I don’t have a problem with that, I’m grateful for another chance—but, God, you know I do have a problem with this woman. I need for you to deliver me from Emma Jean and her mouth . . . Remove her from this hospital room so I can stop faking sleep and find out what the hell is going on . . . In Jesus’ name I pray . . . Amen
“Come on, Diva, I know you hear me. Open your eyes and flash that Lawrence smile for me.”
Paisley opened her eyes halfway. The antiseptic smell of the hospital room made her stomach turn and the constant sound of the beeping heart monitor beside her was annoying. She opened her eyes wider and saw Chester, her first cousin, standing over her, grinning.
“It’s okay, girl. The witch is outside talking to your dad and the doctor. You’re safe,” Chester whispered.
“Make her leave,” Paisley whined. “Why is she even here?”
“She’s here because you almost died and she’s your mother. Don’t go there. And you know her ass isn’t going anywhere until you’re we
ll.” Chester sighed. “How are you feeling? You look better than you did yesterday, that’s for sure. I ain’t mad though, I got to look at that cutie pie, Diesel, all night long. Whooo, that boy is fine!”
“Don’t go there. You know that will never happen.” Paisley smirked. “My neck and chest are killing me.”
“You got some chemical burns when the air bag deployed, Pais. And you broke your wrist, too,” he said. “You’re pretty banged up, but you’re gonna be fine. Nothing a little TLC won’t fix.”
Having Chester there instantly made Paisley feel better. Standing at only five three, he was dressed as impeccably as always in a white linen shirt, tight True Religion jeans, and his signature black cowboy boots. What truly made her cousin an unforgettable persona to anyone with whom he came into contact, outside of his obvious homosexuality, was the bright orange afro he wore.
“I still don’t understand what happened,” Paisley told him, rubbing her hand across her forehead.
“Honey,” Chester said, taking a deep breath, “if you don’t know, then no one knows. I mean, you wouldn’t believe how much commotion this situation has caused. It’s a media frenzy, Paisley.”
“Okay, but I don’t understand why.” Paisley frowned.
The door opened and her mother walked in. “I would like to understand why as well, Paisley. So would your father, your friends, and a whole lot of other people. So why don’t you start explaining.”
“Explaining what, Ma?” Paisley closed her eyes again.
“No, no, you will not. Open your eyes,” her mother demanded.
“Emma Jean, let the girl rest,” her father’s voice said gently.
“She’s rested, Gordon. She’s done nothing but sleep for the past three days. And it seems mighty funny that she can be wide awake, holding entire conversations, until I’m in the room. Now, the doctors have said she’s going to be fine. And I think we deserve some answers.” her mother told him. “All these reporters and camera people trying to get in here.”
“Mama, please.” Paisley tried to wish her mother away, but it didn’t work.
“Paisley, please,” her mother imitated her.
“EJ, please,” Chester added.
Paisley knew things were about to get intense. Her mother and Chester, who was her nephew, never got along. When Paisley got caught skipping school in the eighth grade, her mother blamed Chester. When she and her friends snuck away to the New Edition concert, her mother blamed Chester. When she and her boyfriend got caught kissing in the garage when she was fifteen, her mother blamed Chester. And when, finally, she could no longer take living under her parents’ roof and she ran away from home, her mother blamed Chester.
“Okay, Mama. I’ll explain.” Paisley was frustrated. “What is it that you wanna know?”
“Hell, I wanna know the same thing everyone else wants to know.” Her mother folded her arms and took a step back.
Paisley was confused. She looked at her father, Chester, and Seymone, who had eased into the room. Even though they looked sympathetic, she could also tell by the looks on their faces that they were waiting on answers too.
“And what does everyone want to know?” Paisley asked.
“What the hell were you doing leaving a bar with Warren Cobb?”
Suddenly, memories of the accident came flashing before her. Warren, Charley’s, holding hands, leaving. They had been together when the accident happened. He had been driving.
“Oh, God, Warren,” Paisley gasped. “Where is he? Is he all right?”
“He’s still unconscious, Paisley,” Seymone told her. Paisley couldn’t stop her tears from falling as she realized how the situation had to look. After all, none of them even knew that she and Warren were friends.
“I need to go see him.” Paisley struggled to sit up, but the pain in her chest quickly stopped her.
“It’s okay, honey.” Chester rushed over and comforted her. She buried her face into his shoulder and cried.
“Is it true, Paisley? Were you having an affair with this man?” her mother demanded. “My God, he’s a minister!”
“Emma Jean, come on now, that’s enough,” her father told her.
“Why, Paisley? When does it stop? Do you know how hard it is being your mother? To see my daughter prancing, her body practically naked on videos and magazine covers. To have my one and only child’s claim to fame be the Sensual Seductress of the entertainment industry. And then, you go and open up a ‘studio,’ saying that you’re ‘teaching’ the art of seduction. Yeah, that’s really something for me to be proud of. Warren Cobb! A married minister!”
“Mama, it’s not like that,” Paisley sobbed.
“Is there no limit to how low you will go?” Tears were streaming down her mother’s face and she could hear the hurt in her voice.
“EJ, leave her alone,” Chester hissed.
“There you go, always defending her.” Paisley’s mother shook her head. “That’s why she turned out the way she did. Because of you.”
Chester looked into Paisley’s face and gave her what they called that famous Lawrence smile. Paisley couldn’t help but smile back. They listened as her mother continued her tirade.
“Chester, from the time she was born, you, Gordon, and my sister were always dressing her up, calling her beautiful, and telling her she was better than everyone else. You made her think that she was this untouchable creature, and little did you know. I told you back then that you were creating a monster. This is all your fault!”
“Well, Emma Jean,” Chester said as he smiled, “that’s the greatest compliment anyone has ever given me. I’m actually proud of the way Paisley turned out. She’s beautiful, smart, successful, famous, rich, and—most of all—glamorous! Women look at her and want to be her, including you!”
“Okay, now that’s enough,” Paisley’s father admonished them. “Now is not the time nor place for all this bickering. Paisley, you know I’ve never judged you or what you’ve done, that’s between you and the good Lord. And whatever happened between you and Warren Cobb is between you and the good Lord as well. All I care about is your well-being and your safety. All this other mess is just that, mess.”
“Thanks, Daddy.” Paisley sniffled as she touched her father’s hand.
“Now, there’s one thing I want you to tell me,” he continued.
“Yes, Daddy?” She waited for her father’s request.
“What can we do to help you get better?”
She looked at her mother scowling and then into her father’s loving face. She never understood how a man so gentle and kind-hearted could stay married to a woman so controlling and surly. It made no sense. She knew her father was willing to do anything to help her, so she did what she had to do.
“Leave,” she told him. “Get yourselves out of the middle of this mess and take her with you.”
“What do you mean, ‘take her with you’?” her mother asked. “You have got to be the most selfish, self-centered person I have ever known.”
“Mama, you said yourself that it’s crazy. I know there are reporters everywhere, hanging around here, hounding y’all. That’s the last thing you and Daddy need. I’m fine,” Paisley tried to reason with her mother.
“And you know she’s in good hands with me,” Chester said, nodding. “And although you don’t approve of me, you know I’ll make sure she’s taken care of.”
“And I’m here for her too,” Seymone spoke up. For a moment, Paisley had forgotten that she was even there. “I can stay with her as long as she needs me.”
“See, Emma Jean, she’s got plenty of folks to take care of her. And if our not being here helps lessen the stress, then maybe we should just go.”
“Thanks, Daddy.” Paisley was glad her father understood.
“But she hasn’t even been released from the hospital, Gordon,” her mother told him.
“Emma Jean, Paisley has been on her own since she was seventeen-years-old. She’s been grown a long time.” Her father laughed.
“I’m sure she’s gonna be fine.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Chester said under his breath.
“Stop,” Paisley warned him.
Later that night, her father came in to say good-bye, alone.
“Daddy, you know I didn’t . . .”
“I know you didn’t, sweet cheeks.” Her dad smiled.
“But having Mama here makes things so much harder.” she told him. “I mean, you know, she’s my mother and I love her but I just can’t be around her, not right now, not with all of this going on.”
“Believe me, I understand. But we love you, and I know you’re gonna have to deal with all this, your way. You call me if you need anything, you understand?”
“Yes, Daddy.” She smiled.
“And Paisley, next time they need next of kin, have them call me.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“And one more thing.”
“Yes, Daddy?”
“I’m so proud of you. Every video, every magazine cover, every calendar, every TV show, I see you and I think ‘that’s my Paisley.’ Chester is right, you are a success and don’t ever let anyone make you feel bad about anything you do.” Her father kissed her forehead and walked out of the room.
For what felt like the hundredth time that day, Paisley cried. She cried for the years she spent away from home in order to be away from her mother, the time it caused her to be away from her father, and the fact that despite the mistakes she made, and the road in life she chose, his love was unconditional.
Chapter 3
“You okay, Pais?” Paisley nodded. Seymone reached over and passed her a Kleenex, and she blew her nose. “Thanks.”
“You need me to get anything?”
“No, I’m fine,” Paisley told her, lying back on the bed. “You don’t have to spend the night. I’ll be fine.”
“I wanna stay. It’s okay,” Seymone said.
“I’m sure your fiancé has something to say about that,” Paisley commented.
“Bobby is fine with me being here. He knows you were in an accident,” Seymone answered. “Don’t start tripping.”