One in a Million

by Kimberla Lawson Roby

  Kennedi said another prayer, dropped her HIV-test blood sample inside the FedEx drop-off box, headed onto the expressway, and flipped her radio to the same station she’d been listening to last week when the hosts had been discussing the undisclosed lottery winner. At the moment, the Morning Crew was chatting and cracking up about only God knew what, and Kennedi waited to see which celebrity they were razzing this time around. J Sampson, Melvin D, and Reba seemed to love Hollywood gossip more than anything else, and Kennedi couldn’t deny her own interest and curiosity herself.

  “See, what I’m thinking,” Melvin D began, “is that as soon as this Kennedi woman found out she’d won the big jackpot, she gave the old boy the ax. Kicked brother-man straight to the curb and then called up her man on the side.”

  “You might be right,” J Sampson agreed, and Kennedi audibly sucked in more air than normal. “Which is why I don’t think she should be allowed to get away with this. This woman should have to pay up or else.”

  “If you ask me,” Melvin D added, “she ought to be put in jail for trying to beat a brother out of his rightful cut of that money.”

  “Under the jail is more like it.”

  “That’s cold,” Reba finally commented.

  “What?” J Sampson said.

  “You guys are wrong for taking sides one way or the other, because how do you know the husband isn’t the one who left and then found out his wife had won the money?”

  “Exactly!” Kennedi yelled out, and changed lanes.

  “Please!” Melvin D spurted out. “That’s just like a woman to take up for another one, regardless of what the facts are.”

  “But that’s just it,” Reba argued. “We don’t know what the truth is. And all the two of you are doing is sitting here speculating. You don’t know any more than the rest of America.”

  “Maybe not, but I’ll bet my next paycheck that she tried to dump him after the fact,” Melvin D reiterated.

  “Whatever,” Reba said. “You and J can believe anything you want, but when the truth comes out, you’ll both be tucking your tails.”

  “We’ll see, and hopefully very soon,” J Sampson proclaimed.

  “I will say this, though,” Reba continued. “If I was her, I never would have let anyone talk me into doing some televised press conference, because it’s really no one’s business, and the last thing I would want is for people to know my identity. I definitely wouldn’t want people harassing me.”

  “Huh!” Melvin D spurted out. “For all we know, she wanted everyone to know who she was. For all we know, she couldn’t wait to rub her husband’s face in the whole thing, because as we all saw on television, he certainly didn’t know she was the winner. You could tell from the look on his face and by all the stuff he said that she set up that media blitz straight behind his back.”

  “Oh my God!” Kennedi yelled out. “Why are they doing this?”

  “Okay, I think that’s enough about Mr. and Mrs. Mega Millions,” J Sampson interrupted. “Plus, we need to find out how traffic is doing.”

  Kennedi switched the station and pressed on her brakes. Cars were slowing down more and more as traffic built up.

  “What she probably did was check her numbers and then told him she wanted a divorce,” another talk show host on a different station declared. “She probably put him out on the street in a matter of seconds.”

  Kennedi felt like crying. She’d had no idea things would get this bad, and now she wondered if she’d have to move to another state. Of course, with all the media coverage, people would probably still recognize her, but somehow she had a feeling it wouldn’t be as unbearable.

  When her Treo rang, she checked to see who it was and then pressed the button on her earpiece.

  It was Patrice. “I hope you weren’t just listening to J Sampson and the Morning Crew.”

  “Sad to say, I was, and can you believe the way they were criticizing me? Can you believe Melvin D had the nerve to insinuate that I was probably having an affair when I’m the one who’s now a nervous wreck because it’ll be two full days before I have my test results?”

  “Girl, don’t even pay those fools the slightest bit of attention. This is what they do every morning, and regardless of what they say about you, it’s only a matter of time before everyone realizes Blake is the real villain in all this.”

  “But still, you know just as well as I do that some people believe everything they hear, and you can bet the rumors are already becoming more and more outrageous by the minute.”

  “That might be true, but eventually your story will become old news, and these people will move on to someone else.”

  “This is crazy.”

  “I know, but it’ll pass. Maybe not as soon as you’d like for it to, but this will all settle down at some point.”

  Kennedi sighed but didn’t say anything.

  “So, after we hung up last night, did you hear anything else from Blake?”

  “No, and I’m glad I didn’t.”

  “I still can’t believe he was at the house waiting for you when you got home.”

  “Neither could I, but now I know he’s willing to do anything if he thinks he can get me to fork over fifteen million dollars.”

  “He’s too much. I mean, how in the world could he even think he deserves two dollars when he’s been sleeping with another woman all this time?”

  “I don’t know, but if he says he’s going to fight for half, then that’s exactly what he means.”

  “Then let him. Let him fight as much as he wants to.”

  “Yeah, but I can’t help wondering if I’m really going to have to give him what he’s asking for, and this morning I was even thinking that maybe it might be best to just make him an offer. Maybe he’d be willing to take a much smaller amount, so we won’t have to spend unnecessary time in court.”

  “I say fight him until the end.”

  “But what if I lose?”

  “You won’t. Not once the judge finds out that he’s an adulterer and that he moved out and sent you divorce papers before he even knew about the money.”

  “I don’t think it’s going to be that simple, because the law is the law.”

  “What you need to do is talk to Attorney Newman again.”

  “I am. I have an appointment with Miles this afternoon to go over a few things, but now I’m thinking I should call Attorney Newman to see if he has some time this morning for me to come in.”

  “That’s what I would do.”

  Kennedi glanced at the screen on her cell phone. “Hey, let me give you a call back, because this is the security company calling. They’re trying to schedule a time to install my new system.”

  “Talk to you later.”

  So, if you were me,” Kennedi said after Attorney Newman closed his door and sat behind his desk, “what would you do?”

  “This is a tough one. My first thought is that we should gather as much information against Blake as we can and then let a judge decide. But if we get a judge who believes all marital property should be divided equally, regardless of what the situation is, then we’re in trouble.”

  “Do you think we should offer him something up front?”

  “That might not be a bad idea, but not right away. For now, I’d rather we wait until you actually have the check in hand and then wait to see what Blake’s next move will be.”

  “He’ll never back down. Not under any circumstances.”

  “Maybe he’ll embezzle some money from his employer or commit some other serious crime,” Attorney Newman joked. “Then, once he’s caught and sent to prison, you won’t have a thing to worry about.”

  Kennedi smiled. “That would be perfect.”

  “I know you want this to be over, but I say let’s not do a thing until we hear from his lawyer.”

  “Whatever you say, I’m fine with, and thanks again for seeing me on such short notice.”

  “It’s not a problem. Call anytime. You have my home and cell numbers, too, so
please don’t be afraid to use them. Day or night.”

  Kennedi stood up. “I won’t.”

  Then she left his office and headed to work.

  Chapter 12

  It was three o’clock, and after arriving in her office two hours late and then leaving two hours early to meet with Miles, Kennedi might as well have taken off the entire day. Since it was Friday, though, and she only had less than a couple of weeks to go, she decided it wouldn’t have been a good idea.

  “Right now,” Miles pointed out while leaning forward against the conference room table, “you still have twelve million to work with. You’re investing fifteen and tithing three of it, but you haven’t outlined what you want to do with the rest.”

  “Well, I’d like to set aside at least another five for spending and possibly some additional money for investing, and then use the other seven for gifts and donations.”

  “Sounds fine to me, but you need to decide how much you’re giving to each individual. Remember, you were supposed to get that information to me by Monday.” He smiled.

  “I know, I know. And then I was planning to get it to you yesterday after the press conference, but after the big Blake fiasco, well…”

  “I’m really sorry that all that had to happen.”

  “Well, it’s not like it’s your fault.”

  “No, but I just hate seeing you go through all this public scrutiny when you don’t deserve one tiny bit of it.”

  “It’s tough, but it’s not like I have a choice, and all I can hope is that this works out in my favor.”

  “I hope so, too.”

  “For now, though, let’s count on giving one million dollars each to my aunt Lucy, my aunt Rose, and to Patrice. Then I was thinking two hundred thousand to each of my four cousins and two hundred to my in-laws together. Of course, if it turns out that I have to give fifteen to Blake, then we’ll have to divide everything by two.”

  “Got it. But for our purposes, we’ll base everything on the entire thirty, and with that being the case, you still have three million left of the seven. That is, minus the hundred thousand you want to give to the breast cancer foundation you mentioned last week.”

  “There’s a shelter for abused women and children that I want to give a hundred to as well, and I also want to set aside maybe eight hundred thousand so that I can create a scholarship fund for underprivileged senior girls who’ve maintained at least a three-point-o average in high school.”

  “That’s a great idea. A really wonderful one.”

  “I’ve always wanted to do something like that, and now I finally have the chance.”

  “Well, that leaves two million.”

  “I haven’t quite decided what other organization I’d like to give something to, so let me think about it,” she replied, but suddenly thought about her impending test results and how regardless of whether they came back positive or negative, she wanted to contribute toward AIDS research. She couldn’t deny that she hadn’t thought much about donating in that area in the past, but now she realized firsthand just how important it was.

  “Are you sure five million is going to be enough for you to do some things for yourself?”

  “More than enough.”

  “Well, if you change your mind, your investments will be bringing in more than enough additional income, year after year.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “Then I guess all we have to do now is sit back and wait for your check to arrive.”

  “Yeah, that and the outcome of the court proceedings. Something I’m definitely not looking forward to.”

  Kennedi leaned back in the oversized tub that she and Blake had purchased a couple of years ago when they’d had the master bathroom remodeled and closed her eyes. She’d been sitting and relaxing, enjoying the hot, soothing bubbles for easily thirty minutes, and she didn’t want it to end. The water felt amazing and the cinnamon bubbles smelled luscious. She’d even lit candles and placed five of them perfectly around the border of the tub, and had dimmed the lights shortly thereafter.

  She sat there, savoring every moment, and before long, she started daydreaming. She’d never been a reckless spender, and even as a child, she’d been very practical, but she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about the kind of house she wanted to live in. She’d be lying if she said she wanted an existing home when she knew full well she wanted nothing less than something built from the ground up. She wanted a five-bedroom house with three finished levels, two staircases, a huge formal dining room, a massive living room with sky-high ceilings and gigantic picture windows, and marble flooring installed inside the vast entryway. She wanted a kitchen that would measure four times the size of the one she had now and a deck that would comfortably hold no fewer than twenty-five people at one time. She wanted to purchase all of her patio furniture from that Frontgate catalog, the one she’d been receiving for years but had never even considered actually ordering from. She wanted to choose her appliances, countertops, flooring, and everything else without having to worry about the cost of it. She wanted to hire a reputable interior designer to help with all her furnishing decisions and purchase one of those pure-white 735 BMWs she sometimes saw others driving around town in.

  But as soon as Kennedi finished her last thought, she felt guilty. Uneasy. Selfish, even. Because somehow it just didn’t seem right, her focusing on ridiculously expensive luxuries when there were so many people who didn’t have food to eat. There were single mothers and elderly people on fixed incomes who struggled monthly, trying to figure out how to make ends meet, yet here she was fantasizing about millions of dollars she hadn’t even worked for.

  Kennedi opened her eyes and then closed them again, but after a few minutes, the phone startled her. She’d brought it into the bathroom, just in case it rang, but now she was sorry she had, because she didn’t want to be interrupted.

  She grabbed her towel, dried her hands, and reached out and picked up the cordless from the floor.

  “Now what?” She groaned when she saw that it was Blake calling. “Hello?”

  “Kennedi?” the female voice tried to confirm.

  “Yes, who is this?”

  “Serena, and if it’s okay, I’d like to talk to you.”

  “Excuse me? Talk about what?”

  “Blake and how you know he’s entitled to fifty percent of those winnings.”

  “We must have a bad connection.”

  “No, you heard me correctly. And I’m dead serious, because I think it would be best for everyone if you stopped holding this grudge and just give Blake his share. It would be easier if you do it without being forced.”

  Kennedi raised her eyebrows and laughed, but then grew stern. “If you want to live, you’d better make this your last time calling here.”

  “Look, sweetheart, don’t be mad at me just because the best woman won. Because maybe if you’d been taking care of Blake the way he needed to be taken care of, he’d still be over there with you.”

  “You can save that crap for somebody who cares, because, honey, I don’t want him. You and Blake can have each other. And for the record, you can let him know that I’d rather see him six feet under before I give him ten pennies of that money. I’d rather see both of you murdered in cold blood,” Kennedi said, and flung the phone against the bathroom wall, wishing instead that she could have cracked Serena across her face with it.

  Kennedi got out of the tub, moisturized her body, and slipped into a beautiful satin nightgown. She’d been saving it for a special occasion and as a surprise for Blake, but as of today, she no longer needed a reason to wear nice things. She no longer needed a reason to pamper herself or a man to justify it.

  She sat back on three pillows and spooned out a helping of the vanilla custard she’d picked up on the way home. Then she turned on the television and saw a rerun of Jamie Foxx’s sitcom. It was the last episode of the series, the one where he and Fancy finally got married. She’d seen it several times over the last few ye
ars and she’d even shed a few tears each time she heard Jamie singing to Fancy, but today, all Jamie did was piss her off. Today she saw him the way she now saw Blake, the man who had pretended to love and honor her, the man who had stood beside her at a church altar and lied before two hundred and fifty witnesses.

  So she turned the television to a local news show instead and stopped when she saw a clip from her press conference. They only showed her segment briefly and then immediately switched to the part that showed Blake entering the room.

  Kennedi wished all this madness would stop. She wished they would find something else to obsess about so they could leave her and Blake’s debacle alone. As it was, last night they’d played clip after clip, over and over, and now they were doing the same thing again. It was as if they didn’t have anything else to run, and Kennedi wasn’t going to watch any more of it. That is, until she heard one of the evening anchors saying they’d taped an interview with Blake Mason earlier this evening and would now play an excerpt.

  “So, Mr. Mason,” the meticulously made-up and very well-dressed anchorwoman started. “Is it true that you knew nothing about your wife having the winning ticket until yesterday morning?”

  “Yes, that’s correct. And I have to tell you, I was stunned. I never would have imagined her being the type of person who would try to get over on me the way she’s trying to do. I never would have guessed that she would try to deny me what is rightly mine.”

  “Have you spoken with her? Tried to come to some sort of an agreement?”

  “Yes, but she doesn’t want to hear anything I have to say, and she’s made it pretty clear that she’s not giving me, in her words, ten pennies.”

  “You got that right,” Kennedi told the television.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you,” she said when she saw a lone tear drop from Blake’s left eye.

  “No, don’t be. This isn’t your fault, and I guess I’m just so hurt because I never thought my wife would betray me this way, and it just goes to show that you really don’t know who people are, not even the people you’re married to.”