I braved the scary site that was his desk and looked through his desk drawers for super glue to piece the ashtray together. I didn’t find glue, but did notice an envelope at the bottom of one of the drawers. I was going to ignore it like I did all the other old bills and statements I had waded through, but the return address caught my eye. The envelope was from the Pulaski County Chancery Court. This court didn’t handle traffic citations. I held the envelope for a few minutes before opening it. I broke out in a sweat as I read the words on the page. Derrick had a record. He was convicted of a Class A misdemeanor six years ago; aggravated assault, battery and criminal mischief. The plaintiff was Karen Jones, Derrick’s old girlfriend. There was also a certificate for attendance at anger management classes, a receipt for twelve hundred dollars and a notice that the conviction was expunged from his record. That’s why nothing showed up when Cecelia did the background check. I slowly sat on the couch. My dream come true had turned into a nightmare. Now what?
“Well, ain't no need in coming back. That's the end and that's that.”
Pearl Woods
Chapter 11
THAT DID IT
Now I know how seemingly normal people end up in jail. Folks will be whispering, “Did you see Beverly in ‘Beauticians Behind Bars’? Not yet, girl. I taped it but haven’t watched it. Has she ever said what happened? No one knows. She just snapped and attacked Anthony with her curling iron. What a shame.”
I can’t remember ever being this mad at anyone. Even the doctor’s diagnosis didn’t make me this mad. Then I was more mad at myself than at Anthony. When I told him to get tested, he had the nerve to insinuate that it was my white boyfriend, as he refers to Mark. I knew that wasn’t possible, but didn’t argue. I don’t know if he ever went to the doctor and I don’t care. As far as I’m concerned, his thing can shrivel up and fall off. It just reconfirms that our marriage is over and any smidgeon of feeling I had left for him has left the building. I was sad because a part of my life had ended. But in a way it’s been liberating. I feel like I have official permission to move on with my life. We agreed to mediation to save money, and had been cordial during the first two sessions. I should have known he was up to something, I thought as I fanned myself.
I waved my hand over the sensor so the toilet would flush then exited the stall. I had retreated to the ladies room for a self-imposed time out to keep from catching a case as the young folks say. I sat in the stall long enough to make sure he was out of the parking lot. I had been shocked to get served with an amended divorce petition three weeks ago. We had already agreed during mediation that he would keep the rent houses and I would keep the salon and the house. We only had one mandated session left. Now he wanted to change the deal.
Anthony called the next day to apologize, and said his attorney told him the papers wouldn’t be served until Friday and he had planned to come tell me in person before then. He said he was applying for the houses to be in the Section 8 program and some repairs were needed to bring the houses to code. He was getting a loan for the repairs and the titles needed to be in his name alone. He said he told the loan officer that I would sign a quit claim deed, but there were some other legal issues and they would need my signature and financial statements from the salon. His attorney advised him a divorce would be a cleaner process.
Sandra definitely knew her stuff. She warned me at the start to be prepared for a few curve balls. “Beverly, I know you think you guys have things worked out, and that’s great if you do, but it’s usually never as simple as it sounds,” she said.
“Our son is grown and we’ve already agreed how to split our assets. I don’t see what else there is to settle. I think that attorney is just trying to get more money out of Anthony.”
“What about health insurance?”
“Yes, I have health insurance,” I said. “I’m on Anthony’s — okay, that is something I hadn’t considered. I guess I’ll need to look into getting a policy. I was thinking about getting coverage for the salon anyway.”
“And what about taxes?”
“We’ve always filed jointly,” I said.
“If you keep the salon, and give up the houses, you’ll lose your passive losses. The income will be on your tax return and the losses will be on his. So your taxes will go up and his will go down.”
“Okay, so that’s something else I didn’t think of. But none of that sounds earth shattering. I’m sure we can work all that out.”
“Hopefully you’re right. Just don’t be surprised if something else comes up.”
I would have bet my last dollar that I was right. And I would have lost. My first sign that something was up was that Anthony changed lawyers for the second mediation. He walked in with a white man I had never seen before. The next sign was when Anthony postponed our last mediation appointment at the last minute. I had no word from him until I got served.
As soon as we were all seated, Anthony’s attorney skipped the pleasantries and got right to the point. “My client would like to amend the original petition,” he said as he slid some papers in front of me.
“And surely you don’t expect my client to sign something we have not had a chance to review,” Sandra said as she picked up the papers.
“They have already agreed that Mrs. Townsend will keep the salon. However, upon further review, the salon is more profitable than the rental properties, so we would like Mrs. Townsend to buy out her husband’s portion of the salon.”
“What?” I said. “You want me to pay you?”
“No, we simply want Mr. Townsend to have his rightful portion of the business that you both built. Of course, if you don’t want to buy him out, you can sell the business and split the proceeds.”
“You’re kidding, right? Anthony, what kind of mess is this?” I asked. “You didn’t know a flat iron from a hot comb. I was doing touch ups and roller sets for years before you even thought about getting a barber’s license, and now—”
“Let me handle this,” my attorney said. “Obviously, we have not had a chance to review your proposal. Have you placed a value on the business?”
“We’ve had an accountant review the bank statements and Oasis generates almost two hundred thousand dollars in gross revenue and product sales annually. Those type of service businesses are valued at an average multiple of three times pretax income plus inventory. So we’re in the neighborhood of six hundred thousand, which would mean three hundred thousand for my client. Then there is the property itself, so we think a value of four hundred thousand dollars would be in the ballpark.”
“Are you crazy? You may as well ask for fifty million, because you’re not getting either one,” I said.
“My client would entertain spousal support if you prefer not to sell the business and don’t have the assets to pay him outright.”
“Our son is twenty-one,” I said.
“Spousal support is different from child support,” Sandra said. “It’s Tennessee’s version of alimony.”
“Now I know you’re crazy. You screw every Keisha, Jane, and Jill in Memphis, sue me for divorce, and expect me to pay you?”
“My client—”
“Your client can speak for himself,” I said. “I thought you didn’t like white folks all up in your business.”
“I’d like clarification on paragraph seven b on page five,” Sandra asked.
“There is a pending accident settlement that my client is entitled to half of.”
“I’m the one that was hurt and couldn’t work,” I said. “And I’m the one that’s now stuck with a car note. This can’t be fair,” I said as I turned to Sandra.
“Fair is when you go to get cotton candy and ride the roller coaster. This is real life,” Sandra said.
“We know it is everyone’s desire for this to be as quick and drama-free as possible. So my client has been more than fair in the property distribution. To speed up the process, we will forego the discovery process.”
“No, I don’t think so,” Sandra sa
id. “We will file a motion for discovery and a response once we have had a chance to review your petition. And what is this on page eight?”
“It is my client’s understanding that Mrs. Townsend has an interest in a trust that holds land in Arkansas with pending royalty payments—”
“Oh, hell to the no,” I said as I stood and grabbed my purse. “My family kept that land despite the KKK, boll weevil, depression, Jim Crow, and fracking. If you think you’re going to get your gold digging, STD having, hands on a penny generated from it, you are sadly mistaken. Let’s go.”
Sandra exchanged business cards with Anthony’s lawyer as they walked to the door. They seemed mighty friendly, and I wondered if I should have gotten another lawyer too. Maybe doing someone’s hair for twenty years wasn’t the best way to pick a lawyer. “Sandra, I’m going to the ladies room. I’ll meet you at the car.”
“Beverly, wait,” Anthony said as he tugged at my elbow.
“Unless you’re going to tell me this was all some sick joke, there’s nothing I want to hear you say.”
“I just want you to know, I didn’t want us to be like this. But I have to think about my future. Hopefully we can—”
“Anthony, kiss my ass.”
So here I sit in the bathroom. I can feel the heat rising around my neck, but this isn’t a hot flash. Now I understand how people can snap and hurt someone. But to quote Sophia, “He ain’t worth it.” I also understand how people sign something just to get it over with. But even if we had reached a settlement on the salon, the accident money and the rent houses, there is no way I will let him have one penny from my family’s land. I cannot let the fruits of my father’s toil and sacrifice be wasted on Anthony’s sorry behind. Anthony had never expressed any interest in my family’s property and I was caught off guard. They say there’s a thin line between love and hate. I just crossed that line.
CAROLYN
It’s only ten o’clock, but it is already hot and there is no breeze at all. I don’t see how people can argue that there is no global warming. We are in the middle of a heat wave and technically it isn’t even summer yet. If it had been any other day, and any other event, I would have stayed home. But today is Father’s Day and we are gathering at Raymond’s. Last year I came to Eden, even though Derrick worried that it would be too emotional for me. But I felt we needed to support Daddy. It rained all day and the rain matched our mood. It had only been a few months since Mama’s passing and despite our best efforts it wasn’t a celebration without her. We were low key the rest of last year. Miss Emma invited Daddy over for Thanksgiving, and no one planned anything for Christmas or New Year’s. We didn’t get together for Easter either, and Aunt Belle announced that was enough of that. She told Raymond we were coming to his house for Father’s Day. So here we are.
I saw smoke rising behind the house and followed the smoke signals, and my nose, to my brother’s back yard. “Happy Father’s Day,” I said when I spotted him and Daddy hovering over a black metal barrel, cut in half that served as the grill. It is a replica of Daddy’s grill and had belonged to Charles. That was old school, but Raymond also has a gas grill and a turkey smoker. The Washington men are serious about barbeque and consider themselves experts. Even Raymond made an exception and cooked pork on these occasions.
“Thanks, Carolyn,” he said and took my bags of buns, condiments, and chips. “Just in time. The burgers and hot dogs are ready. Where’s Derrick?”
“At church.” Derrick is still in apology mode. He served me breakfast in bed, and said I could stay home and rest. My head, hand, and stomach ached, and I planned to stay home whether he said so or not. We had barely spoken in the last two weeks. I’m not mad. Well, maybe a little bit. I turned my life upside down for this man, but now he was showing me another side. Should I believe the sweet side or the angry side? I know I need to make a decision. Even not making a decision is making a decision. I still haven’t confronted him about my discovery, but it will have to wait until another day. Today is a day to celebrate the men in my family. Raymond is the host. Carl’s boys are in town and Daddy is the guest of honor. I won’t let Derrick’s drama ruin this day.
Daddy and Raymond were tending to the grill, and Carl and the boys were playing horse on the makeshift basketball court. Malcolm was winning, and had inherited his father’s trash talk skills. Today is game seven of the finals. Raymond hooked up a TV on his deck. His team members were coming over later to watch the game. Eden High lost in the state tournament, but they gained so much during the journey, and they looked up to Raymond like a father.
After dinner, Raymond brought his laptop outside and surprised Daddy by Skyping with Paul and Cecelia’s children. He kept trying to rush, thinking the cost was expensive, like long distance used to be. Once he realized there was no extra cost, we couldn’t get him off. Paul carried the computer all over his house and showed us every room. Junior and Sheree didn’t talk too much since Simone monopolized the time reciting her numbers and alphabet. Daddy, the proud great-grandfather, fawned over her as though she were spouting physics.
“This new stuff is really amazing. Who would have thought I could look at a screen and talk to folks in another country? I feel like a time traveler from a cartoon.”
“Welcome to the twenty-first century, Daddy,” I said.
“Emma has a computer and has been saying I should take classes at the library. I think I will. Maybe I’ll even get a Picgram page.”
“I don’t know if the internet is ready for C.W. Washington,” I said.
“I tell you what I’m ready for, some more dinner. That first plate was just the appetizer. Son, your barbeque is almost as good as mine,” C.W. said as he stood.
“I learned from the best. Geneva is in the kitchen, she’ll fix you a plate. Carolyn, since I have you here, can I get you to do one quick thing for me?” Raymond asked. “We have a CARE meeting on Tuesday and I made some last minute changes to the presentation and grant papers. Will you proofread them for me?”
“Okay. I’m going to go inside and print it. It’s easier for me to read,” I said as I took the computer inside, glad for an excuse to sit under the air conditioning for a while. “And remember, the meter is running.” CARE’s activities are starting to gain national attention and we’re getting support from similar organizations in Texas and New York. We have even been awarded two grants from national environmental groups. My labors are bearing fruit, but I had been right to be concerned about the time CARE would consume. Until recently, I have been spending most of my evenings, and even some work time, on CARE related activities. I don’t mind, it’s a distraction from my marriage, or what’s left of it.
“Here you are,” Derrick said as he poked his head in the doorway. “I saw your car outside, but didn’t see you in the yard.”
“I didn’t know you were here,” I said, without looking up.
“Service ran long, then we had cake and punch in the fellowship hall for Father’s Day. Everyone asked about you.”
“I’m sure you told them a good story. You’re good at covering up.”
“A little bitchy, but at least you’re talking to me. Look, I admit, I’ve made mistakes. I didn’t realize I had to be perfect.”
“I didn’t expect perfection, but honesty would be welcome.”
“This is not the time or place to discuss this. Let’s go home,” Derrick said.
“I don’t feel like I have a home. Besides, I’m busy.”
“See, that’s half the problem. You are always too busy. Everything comes before our marriage.”
“Right now it’s not much of a marriage.”
“Maybe you had unrealistic expectations. We’re not big ballers like Jay-Z and Beyoncé, so we don’t need a big mansion. And we’re not Halle Berry and whoever her baby’s daddy is. We don’t need a baby at our age. Instead of focusing on what we don’t have, why not enjoy what we do have? So let’s enjoy the day and—”
“You’re right. This is not the time or
the place for this conversation. This is a day to celebrate my father,” I said as I turned off the computer.
“I do love you, and I’ll do whatever you want. Even though I disagree, if you want to move, we can find the biggest house between here and Memphis. I’ll go to counseling. We’ll be the only parents buying diapers and Depends, but we can have ten babies if you want. You’ve added so much to my life. A day like today reminds me of that. I never paid much attention to Father’s Day, but being with you and your family has made me realize how much I’ve missed. Just let me make things up to you,” he said as he reached for my hand.
I didn’t extend my hand to meet his, but I didn’t pull away either.
“Aww, ain’t that sweet?” Carl said as he walked by on his way to the bathroom. “Do you guys need a ‘do not disturb’ sign?”
“To be continued,” Derrick said as he gave me a quick kiss. “Let’s go get something to eat.”
Derrick went outside to catch the score and I stopped in the kitchen where my sisters were washing dishes. Cecelia had come to Memphis for a surprise visit three weeks ago. She told Beverly she needed a break. We didn’t think that was the whole story since she had four suitcases and was vague about her plans to return to Chicago. But we decided to let her tell us in her own time. Beverly said she was glad for the company and was even learning to like Cecelia’s meatless meals.
Down Home Blues Page 22