Darius Jones

by Mary B. Morrison

  Rita’s brows damn near touched the ceiling. She started trembling. She couldn’t speak. I ran to the room, opened the door. Everything was the way I’d left it. My mother’s coffin was to the left of my dad’s. After their double ceremony, instead of burying my parents at a cemetery, I had the funeral director deliver the coffins to my house at midnight.

  I shut the bedroom door, asked Rita, “Why are you shaking?”

  She shook her arms and legs. Jerked her neck. “A little stiff from falling asleep on the floor, I suppose.”

  “Shut him up! I can’t take all that whining.” I didn’t care if he was two days old.

  Rita sung softly. “Hush, little baby, don’t you cry. Please, don’t cry, little baby.” Rita sounded like she was about to cry. I had zero tolerance for that kid.

  “I don’t want you sleeping on my floor. Sleep in the first bedroom on the right or the other bedroom directly across the hall from the one on the right,” I said, pointing down the opposite hallway away from my parents’ bedroom. “The boys can sleep with you. But don’t open the other bedroom door that’s straight ahead. That’s my room.”

  “What am I going to do all day without watching television?”

  “There’s hundreds of DVDs. Watch movies.” I went into my bedroom, closed the door, braided my hair. I attached my brown shoulder-length lace wig, changed into my black Baby Phat sweats, and black tennis shoes. I dropped Darius’s loc in a plastic bag, then zipped it tight. I locked my parents’ bedroom and mine with a key.

  “You sure do change your look a lot,” Rita said. “How come?”

  “Because I entertain for a living.”

  “Entertain? Oh, you one of them girls. These babies for your boss?”

  Don’t play dumb with me. I left Rita talking to herself while rocking that crybaby in her arms. The other one seemed content lying on the sofa beside her. Tonight, I’d sleep at the Marriott near LAX.

  I had to stay on top of things. My two choices were: Kill Fancy. Or follow through with having an unbreakable love spell cast upon Darius. The two-headed lady said not to call her. She’d know when I was in the French Quarter. I hoped she was telling the truth.

  My flight to New Orleans was departing in the morning.

  CHAPTER 36

  Jada

  I’d become a prisoner in my home.

  Grant called every ten minutes. I wanted to turn my phone off but was afraid to miss a call from Darius. First Grant didn’t want me around. All of a sudden he’s leaving demanding voice mail messages that are filling up my mailbox. I’d grown tired of checking and erasing each message.

  “Jada, I know you have my boys. Return them to me immediately or I’m coming to your house to get them.”

  “Jada, I know you know where Luke and London are. I won’t have you arrested if you tell me where my boys are.”

  “Jada, you haven’t witnessed my bad side. I will do whatever it takes to get my boys back.”

  “Jada, I’m on my way to your house,” was the last message I’d received, fifteen minutes ago.

  I wish he would. Getting out of bed, I opened my blinds, stood on my balcony in my cream camisole and satin baby doll shorts. I exhaled fresh air, thanking God for the sunshine. California was breathtaking. Admiring the peaks of mountains—some covered with snow, others with trees—I felt in love again with myself. I wasn’t reluctant to deal with Grant. I feared the next conversation with my son.

  Darius, at times, had said words that could stop my heartbeat for the three seconds that could’ve killed me. When I should’ve been there for him, I was selfish and foolishly chasing Grant. If I’d been there for my child, Ashlee wouldn’t still have DJ and I wouldn’t have been banned from the hospital.

  “Lord, where is my child? Please keep my grandbaby safe. What a mess I’ve gotten myself into this time.” Ashlee hadn’t returned DJ. Nor had she responded to any of my calls. Maybe I’m overreacting. Maybe Ashlee is keeping him for her two days.

  I stared at the entrance gates. I can’t believe this. A black Town Car with tinted windows entered my driveway. I hurried into my bedroom, slipped on my sheer robe, then opened my front door.

  The driver opened the back door. A pair of brown square-toed men’s shoes planted on my cobblestone. His beige slacks and button-up collared shirt loosely hugged his body. His broad shoulders squared, chest protruded.

  I stood in the doorway as Grant casually approached me saying, “You left me no choice.”

  “You’ve always got a choice. You made yours. I did the same. Please leave my house now.”

  He bypassed me, entered my house. “I’m not leaving until you tell me. I can be here five minutes or forever.”

  Once upon a time I wanted him forever. Now five minutes was too long. “Who in hell do you think you are! You are a heartless selfish son of a bitch! You deserve whatever happens to you.”

  He shook his head, sat on my sofa. “And you are old and desperate.”

  “I’ll tell you what’s old. Your calling me ‘old.’” I sat beside him. “I wasn’t so old and desperate when you proposed to me on Fisher Island. Or when you had the violinist play what used to be our song. Or when we used to finish each other’s sentences.”

  Softly he said, “‘The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face.’” He nodded like his memory had returned. “I’d forgotten about that.”

  Selective memory is what I’d call it. I stood in front him. Tied my belt in a double knot. “Grant, do you remember telling me, ‘Jada Diamond Tanner, I, Grant Hill, promise to be your faithful husband. To forsake all others, to make love only to you, and to never have sex with another woman as long as we are one. I promise to never sweat the small stuff. I want to share my dreams, my goals, my life with you, never taking you for granted. And I promise you that divorce is not an option…if you, will you, Jada Diamond Tanner, marry me?’ Do you remember those words, Grant? I certainly do.”

  He laughed. His laughing was getting old too. His finding humor in what’s important to me was no joke. I’d give him a moment to erase that stupid smile. When the time was right, I got one for him.

  “Damn, what did you do, record it?”

  “No, I listened and I believed you were telling me the truth.”

  “I was. But things changed unexpectedly.”

  I pulled his arm trying to make him stand up. He pulled back. Kept sitting on my sofa like he was the man of my house.

  “So, how in the hell did Honey end up pregnant supposedly by you?”

  “Look, I didn’t come here to relive my proposal or to explain why I never stopped loving Honey.”

  Smack! “Get the fuck out of my house. Now!”

  Grant leapt from the sofa, started roaming my house. “Not until I’m sure my boys aren’t here. I’ve got people helping me. You will not get away with this.”

  Stomping on his heels, I followed him into my entertainment room. “You don’t know what love is, Grant! You don’t know how to love! You’re heartless. And you’re careless with your words.” I picked up my cordless phone. Was this thing still working? When was the last time I’d used my home phone? I pressed the talk button, got a dial tone.

  “You’ve got one minute to get out or I’m calling the police. Speaking of police, where was your Honey when you went to jail? She probably set you up! But you’re so dumb, you think that’s love. Or maybe you’re feeling guilty, huh? For all the wrong things you’ve done to her.”

  Grant roamed though my bedrooms, then back to the living room. “You don’t want me to leave you. You say all these bad things about Honey hoping it’ll make me love you and not her. I can’t change my heart. I tried with you. But I never stopped loving Honey. Never. And you’re right. She didn’t bail me out. But you know what? I can’t blame her for that. When I broke her heart, I didn’t bail her out of the pain I caused her. If she’ll let me make it up to her, I’ma do right by Honey this time. And like it or not, those are my boys and I’m going to find them. Just pray I don’t find ou
t you had anything to do with their kidnapping. I know a man is not supposed to hit a woman. I won’t make you that promise,” he said, walking toward the front door.

  “Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha.” I laughed at his back. “Poor little Grant, living in a shoe, screwed so many women, you don’t know what to do. Well, let me help you out. Go fuck yourself!” I yelled, then slammed my door.

  He’d made me numb. I was done with him.

  CHAPTER 37

  Honey

  The wheelchair the nurse rolled into my room was supposed to signal happiness. My boys should be in my arms. Grant should be pushing the chair. Joy should have filled my broken heart.

  I asked the nurse, “Give me a minute alone in my room before I leave.”

  I sat in my wheelchair and wept. “Dear God, keep my babies safe. Please don’t let anyone hurt them. Please don’t let them be dead, or cold, or hungry, or sick, or in pain. Give me their pain. Let me suffer, not them.” My throat ached. I felt like I was gonna die. But I had to live for my babies. I, Honey Thomas, had a reason to live. I’d never felt this way before. “Momma’s gonna find you, Luke and London. I promise.”

  “Knock. Knock.” Sapphire opened the door. “You ready…? Oh, mama you’re crying. I understand. I promise you I’m going to find your babies.” She leaned over the chair and hugged me. “I’m on it. Trust me. Grant is downstairs with Valentino. They’re going to take you to Velvet’s house. You need to dry those tears and put on your thinking cap, you hear me? I need your head clear. And start thinking about your sleeping arrangements.”

  I sniffled. Smiled a half smile. “You’re right. I do have to keep a clear head. You got Valentino off?”

  “Actually, Grant posted his bail. Said he owed Valentino one. Don’t ask me. Men. But my people will have Valentino’s charges dropped.” Sapphire sat at the foot of the bed. “Which one of them you want, Honey?”

  That was a question I hadn’t thought about much. I actually had a choice between two men. “I’m not sure I want either of them.” Valentino and Grant entered the room. They deserved to hear what I had to say so I kept talking to Sapphire.

  “I love Valentino. In a brotherly way. Kind of like we’re cut from the same cloth. Sexing Valentino when I was his madam felt good but I felt bad afterward. But now that I’ve witnessed his good side, I’d do anything for him. We both hustled our way to multimillionaire status. We don’t look for trouble but if trouble finds us, we have no problem doing whatever we have to do to survive. His parents are deceased and mine might as well be dead. We’re two people who need one another but I’m not in love with Valentino.”

  Valentino said, “A nigga can accept you keeping it one hundred. But I still want to help raise the boys.”

  See, “nigga” was in every other sentence for him. Pimpin’ was in his blood. Valentino wouldn’t be content for long, living the family life. If that was what he truly wanted, he’d be with his wife and kids, not here with me.

  “Come here,” I said, extending my hand to Valentino. I picked up my purse from the bed, removed the ring he’d given me, then said, “I want you to take all that love that you have in your heart for me and my babies.”

  Grant interrupted. “Our babies.”

  “Nigga, she ain’t talking to you. Put a lid on it before I put a cap in it.” His threat was filled with sadness.

  I patted Valentino’s hand. “You’re right. I’m not talking to Grant so look at me, not him. I want you to take all your love and give it to your twins, your son Anthony, and even if you don’t want to be with Summer, you owe her an apology.”

  “A nigga don’t owe her no apology. She left me hangin’ with the kind of change that left a hole in a nigga’s pocket. She don’t need me. And a nigga don’t need her.”

  This conversation was taxing on me. Weighing down my spirit. Why were men, no matter how strong, weak underneath their armor?

  “That’s where you’re wrong. You were her first. Do you remember telling me that? She loved you before you ever met her twin sister. And if Summer’s father hadn’t banned you from seeing your firstborn, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. Don’t do the right thing for me. Do the right thing for your wife and kids. Pride don’t love nobody. Love don’t love nobody. People love people. Try loving your wife again. You have nothing to lose but much to gain. I’m gonna be just fine,” I told him. I gave Valentino a hug, then gave him back his ring. He slammed the ring to the floor, left the room with tears in his eyes.

  “What about this one?” Sapphire asked, nodding toward Grant.

  Grant stood tall like he was the defendant and I was his jury.

  “Grant, he’s different. His parents are upstanding.” I thought about but wasn’t going to mention Grant’s brother, Benito. Don’t know how I dated him for three years. “The most trouble Grant has been in is a result of his being associated with me. He wouldn’t shoot a person if you paid him.”

  Grant asked, “But do you still love me?”

  Why did he pose that question as opposed to confessing his feelings? Grant always wanted to make sure he wasn’t the one taking a chance on loving me unless he was positive beyond the shadow of a doubt that I loved him first.

  I looked at him and said, “Yes, I do still love you. I will always love you.” He smiled. “But I’m not in love with you.” His smile slowly faded. “Like I’ve said before, sometimes love isn’t enough. You crushed my heart, then stomped on it by throwing Jada in my face like she was better than me. I don’t compete with no bitch. I don’t have to. She’s not better. She’s different. And if she’s had anything to do with my boys being missing, I’ma kick her ass first.” I stared into Grant’s eyes, then continued. “Then yours, and I’m dead serious. If you think you can ease your way back into my life because of the boys, you’re wrong. You have no idea what love is.”

  Sapphire stood. “Well, there we have our sleeping arrangements—separate rooms for everybody,” she said. “And I, my dear, have to get back to finding our babies. You guys can continue this conversation without me. I’m going to pay Jada’s son, Darius, an unexpected visit.” Sapphire left.

  Grant sat on the edge of the hospital bed, rolled my wheelchair in front of him. “Honey, can’t you see I love you?”

  He didn’t get it. He kept making himself the victim. “No. Love is action supported by words. It’s not something I can see. Valentino was with me every day of my pregnancy. He went with me for my checkups. Took me to the doctor when I wasn’t feeling well. He knew the babies weren’t his and he still cared for me. That’s love. And maybe he loved me because he needed someone to love him. Whatever his reasons, that was okay with me because his heart was in it. You on the other hand told me not to call you again ever. What had I done so wrong that you never wanted to hear my voice again?”

  I held my hand up to him. I wasn’t finished. “It takes two people to love unconditionally. When you love someone, as you claimed you loved me, you don’t intentionally hurt them. You fucked me one day, then the next day you told me you were marrying Jada. You’re a fucking user. You coaxed me into loving you, then you find a reason to end our relationship. You didn’t want to talk about it. Fuck what Honey thinks. Fuck how Honey feels. I had to pick myself up…. You’re scared. You’re afraid to let yourself truly love someone. Dump them before they dump you. Hurt them before they hurt you. That’s the spirit, G. You used me and now you’re using Jada. You haven’t apologized to me, not once.”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t forget, Valentino kidnapped and tried to kill you. But I guess that’s okay with you too?”

  I stared at Grant. What was wrong with him? I turned my wheelchair toward the door. He swiveled my chair facing him.

  “Honey, I’m so sorry,” he said with tears streaming down his face.

  “Save it. I didn’t say those words for an apology. You need to think about what you’re doing to women. Keep it one hundred with yourself. I have more important people to worry about. Get me out of here.”
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  CHAPTER 38

  Darius

  The envelope Ashlee handed me at the hospital haunted me.

  Hadn’t heard from her since she’d left. I didn’t want to open the envelope, but I had to. I held the white letter-size in my sweaty palms. I was home. Alone. Sitting in my family room with no family. No DJ. I missed my lil’ man. I missed my wife terribly. I hated not being at the hospital with her. My mom had made things worse for me by involving Ashlee. Wasn’t sure if I was glad or not that my mom wasn’t around.

  My cell phone rang. It was someone calling from the hospital. My heart thumped in my chest. Glad or not, I wished my mom was here with me right now because I needed her…. But she wasn’t here to make me feel better. K-9 was a true friend but he had to be in Cleveland for our game tomorrow. I wanted to be there too. But I stayed in LA, for my wife.

  For the first time in years, since that day I’d tried to commit suicide, I felt alone. Back then I had no one depending on me. Now I have my son, my wife, my teammates, and I’m man enough to understand I have to look out for my mom no matter what I think about what she’d done. She was an only child and my family was all the family she had.

  I knew I was learning what unconditional love meant when I opted to stay in LA. The game would go on without me. I couldn’t go on without my wife. I placed the envelope on the end table.

  “Hello.”

  “Mr. Darius Jones, is he available?”

  I recognized the voice. “Yeah, it’s me, Doc.”

  “I have good news,” he said. “Hold on.”

  The softest voice, barely above a whisper, said, “Hey, you.”

  All I could do was cry her name. “Ladycat?”

  “Yeah,” she said.