I'll Be Good to You

by Christine Gray

  **

  TIA

  I was at the door the second I heard the knob turning. I’ll never forget the sight of a swaying Brittany, hair a mess, draped in a large sweatshirt and sweatpants clinging to Johnny as a lifeline. Rushing to her side, she shrinks away to bury her face in his chest. Her reaction is like a slap in the face.

  “I don’t want to see her. Don’t let her see me like this,” begs Brit.

  “Is she drunk? Where are her clothes?” I demand to know. “Where were you?” I ask as I jerk on her arm, forcing her to lift her head to look at me.

  I make a wide turn to look from Ryann to Yosef, to Richey, to a man I’ve never seen, then back to Johnny with his stone face expression.

  “All ya’ll get the fuck out. I’ll figure this out myself,” I order. Going to the door, I open it wide, yet no one is moving.

  “Please, Johnny…d, don’t leave me with her. S, she’ll beat me. I, I know it,” stammers Brit.

  Angry, I slam the door, rattling the front windows.

  “Damn right I’m going to beat your ass!” I yell. “Every second that passes you’re pissing me off,” I spit.

  Johnny closes his eyes as he pushes Brittany away. The look he gives her is one mixed with disappointment and rage.

  “She skipped school to go to a party with that boy she’s been fucking around with,” Johnny speaks at last.

  The amount of air that leaves my lungs also leaves me lightheaded. Covering my mouth with my hand, I lower my head to glance at the floor as I steady my other hand on my hip.

  “What happened?” I question in a muffled tone.

  Johnny takes a breath to speak, but I raise my hand for him to give me a second to get ready. I know this answer is going to take me out. Instead of Johnny’s voice, it’s Brit’s.

  “Wanna know what happened? I was set up. I’m the dumb girl looking for some action only to get played by a guy that was paid to talk to me.”

  “Paid,” I repeat, weakly. “Why would…was this a prank by those bitches at your school?”

  “They,” she starts in a husky voice as she begins to cry. “They, they…”

  “Jesus, no,” I cry as I take a step towards her.

  Once again, she chooses to use Johnny as a shield by hiding behind him.

  “I need to brush my teeth and a bath,” she cries.

  “No, no, no…I, I, did they, please not-“

  “We got there in time before any physical damage, but other acts were done,” Johnny remarks, slowly to ensure I understand.

  I nod. Hearing that doesn’t make it any better, but it’s something.

  “How did you know where to find her? Did you call him?” I press.

  “Not a call, a text,” he pauses, “from Rafael showing me what he was planning to do.”

  I must have blacked out on my feet because all I can do is look at Johnny. I see Brit stop hiding behind him to say something to me. I tilt my head in hopes to make my hearing turn back on, but it’s not working. Now Ryann is in the frame. He’s talking, too.

  “Get out.”

  Was that me that said that? Heads are looking in my direction, so yes. I must have spoken the two words.

  “Get out,” I repeat, firmer this time.

  Johnny is moving for the door only for Brittany to grab hold to him.

  “Why mama? It’s all my fault, not his. He’s not the one that told me to skip. He was the one that tried to warn me about the boy in the first place, but I wouldn’t listen. Please!”

  Johnny snatches his hand from hers. Brit has a hurt expression on her face, but she reaches out for him again.

  “Don’t be mad at me, please, Johnny. I’m so sorry. I messed everything up,” glancing over at me, “Mama, don’t do this. I don’t want him hurt because of me,” she cries as she fights to keep him from reaching the door.

  “It is his fault,” I snap. “You got caught up in this shit because of his friend. So, the man couldn’t mess with me, so he fucked around with you, instead,” I point out.

  “But, but,…no Johnny, wait, WAIT!” screams Brittany.

  Richey, and the guy I’ve never seen before files out after him. Brittany screams while she pulls at her braided hair.

  “It’s all my fault. Why you got to do this, Mama? He saved me. He warned me. All you did was believe all my lies. If it weren’t for Johnny they would have…I’m never gonna forgive myself,” she cries as she takes off for the stairs.

  I make a swipe at her to stop her, but she slips through my fingertips.

  “Give her some time,” suggests Yosef.

  “I can’t do that. She might-“

  “I’m going with her,” offers Ryann while he jogs up the stairs. I’m sure he shares my worries of Brittany cutting herself to the point of injury or God forbid death.

  I’m at a loss. I don’t know how many turns in a circle I make. On my last rotation, Yosef shoves a glass of wine in my hand. Without hesitation, I toss it back to snatch the bottle out his hand.

  “My baby,” I cry while I stumble into the living room. “I can’t believe-“

  “Johnny got there before the worse could happen.”

  “Why ya’ll keep saying that?” I yell. “Nothing should have happened at all. She should have never been there in the first place.”

  “Kids do stupid things, Tia. You know that.”

  “Yeah, kids do, but Brittany wasn’t one of those kids. She never, never did anything like this before until he gave in the picture,” I replied, hotly.

  Yosef gets to his feet. “So, you just gonna leave it like that, huh? You’re gonna put all the damn blame on Johnny instead of taking your slice. It’s sad when a fifteen-year-old girl is smarter than her mom. At least, Brit is upstairs feeling guilty over what she did, but your dumbass won’t face the truth.”

  “Alright,” I hiss, slamming the bottle down, “what’s my truth?” I sneer.

  “That you’ve listened so much to your wack-a-doodle mom to the point that you can’t think for yourself when it comes to Brit. You actually believed the obvious bullshit she was feeding you about that boy? I mean, even I was looking side-eyed, but you’re so used to your Mom putting her two cents in, telling you what to do, that you let that girl dupe you. Even when you could see that your old lady was undercutting you, you still would go along with it. Me, Ryann, hell Johnny, we all could see it. The girl has issues. She needs help,” he stresses in a low voice.

  “You can go, too.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I’ll go so I don’t have to be here when you call your Mom over so you can eat her shit. I mean, we all know that’s what you’re going to do because you feel like you need her help. It’s like you’re a verbally abused person that keeps going back to get beat again when you don’t have to because you have others that care…the right way.”

  “You got a lot of advice for somebody too afraid of being clowned for being gay,” I sass.

  Yosef freezes. “At least, I’m not blind. You hear that sound? Welcome to your life, Tia.”

  **

  The reality show went to hell in a handbasket. The lead our team had slipped due to us not being about to complete the challenges on time. Yosef, Ryann, and I limped along, but the tension among us made it, so we didn’t sync well. Chana made an excuse that Johnny was busy with record label obligations which kept them away from the set. Luckily, the producers had enough film including Johnny and me to make the season juicy enough to get the viewers. In the end, our team came in the final three.

  Now that we were free from taping, I’m back at the office. Unlike what Yosef claimed, no that’s a lie. He seemed to have read my mind. I was going to go to grovel at my Mom’s feet for her to come back. However, I decided to forge it alone. I mean, there was never nothing stopping me from taking Brittany to school. I didn’t do it because Mom was here. Hell, I make my own hours. I really didn’t need her to pick Brit up, or to cook, or to be home with her. All of those things I could and am doing now. All it took was me actually put
ting to use my home office on the first floor.

  I just wish fixing things between Brittany, and I was that easy. She still isn’t talking to me after a week. Every day she asks me to call Johnny so she can apologize, but I refuse. No longer is she the happy student whose cares had been finally put to rest. She’s retreated back into her shell. The only contact I’ve had with Johnny came with a knock on the door.

  “Tia?”

  I examine the woman standing in my doorway.

  “Yes.”

  “May I come in?”

  Stepping to the side, I let her enter. By the time I close the door, she’s fished out a crisp business card with golden, embossed writing.

  “I’m here on retainer from Mr. Thicke. He believes you and your daughter are in need of my services. Can we speak for a moment?”

  She doesn’t wait for my welcome. Instead, she glides silently into the living room to take a seat.

  “Is Brittany here?”

  “Um, I didn’t consent to anything.”

  She shrugs her boney shoulders. “Either you speak with me, or you can speak with a not so nice rep from child services after I report what happened to Brittany last week,” she smirks. “Why don’t you call her down?”

  “This is blackmail?”

  “Is it? I am here to give you and your daughter much-needed therapy.”

  I open my mouth to respond.

  “Did Johnny really send you?”

  The woman stands to face Brittany leaning in the archway.

  “He did, and he’s footing the bill, so I’m here to help you,” she smiles. “Well, will you join us?” she asks as she gestures to the empty couch.

  With a nod, Brit walks into the room. Two sessions in, Brit only talks to me during those meetings. Other than that, she’s silent, or she gives me one-word answers.

  I should be happy that the reality show and yes, being connected to Johnny for that short time has paid off. He’s even personally sent business my way. Clients are booking my services, and it’s all because of him. Wish I had the guts to tell him all about my good fortune. That day, standing in my foyer is on replay on a daily bases. With hindsight, I see I was wrong to place the entire blame at his feet. I jumped to conclusions to assume the worse about him, clearing all the times he’s proven to me that I was so very, very wrong about him.

  He’s gone out of his way to not cross my path. No, he hasn’t come out to announce his fling with me is over. I know he never would. The press and public will get the hint to move on to the next hot topic. I’m sure once the show airs, there will be moments of awkwardness, but I’m determined to handle it.

  Now, this is my life. Yosef called it. As I sit on the couch with a glass of wine in my hand, silence is my constant companion. The chill of the turning weather outside seems to seep into the room to make me even more aware that I am alone. I take a sip and steal a glimpse of the remote sitting on the coffee table.

  Tonight is the night of the awards show. My hand itches to scoop it up to catch some of the red carpet pre-show coverage. It hovers over the piece of rectangular plastic. Suddenly, I snatch it away due to the knocking on the door. Fumbling to the door, I’m greeted by a delivery woman.

  “Hello, I have a package for this address.”

  “Um, okay,” I mumble as I take the electronic pad to sign.

  Before I can close the door, Ryann pulls up on the street. The doors on his white Lexus opens.

  “You haven’t bathed,” he shouts up to me.

  “No, it’s too early to take a shower,” I frown.

  He strolls around the car to stand at the foot of the steps. His bag toting friends exchange looks.

  “The awards ceremony is tonight,” he points out.

  “And?”

  With a scoff, he climbs the stairs to shove me back inside.

  “Bitch don’t tell me we did all this work for no shout out,” complains Bianca in his deep voice.

  “Shut up,” hisses Ryann. He sighs, “Johnny was going to take you to the awards show. He had me make your wig, and Bianca and his team did your dress and shoes. Those must be the diamonds Johnny bought for you.”

  I drop the package as if I had been burned. From where I don’t know, Brit appears to bend down to pick up the package. I have no words. All I can do is follow her into the living room as she rips through the shipping tape to open the box.

  “Wow!” she exclaims.

  I’m too scared to walk behind her to take a look. The others don’t share my fear. I watch their expressions as the open box comes into few.

  “That’s custom, honey,” remarks the tall, thin, white guy on Bianca’s glam squad with a sugary snap of his fingers.

  It becomes obvious I’m not moving. Brit slowly turns the red velvet case for me to see. Slack-jawed. I’m completely slack-jawed. Teardrop and emerald-cut diamonds are positioned to create an oval leaf pattern all set in gold. At the end is an off-centered, large teardrop cut yellow diamond.

  “Actually, it’s a replica of the Wallace Chan 200million masterpiece. It’s a total weight of 637 carats. The brownish, yellow diamond pendent is over 407 carats all by itself. Johnny showed me a picture of the original before he had it remade for you to make sure it would match this.”

  On his cue, Bianca’s friend pulls down the zipper of the garment bag in his hand to reveal a breathtaking silk dress in the autumn, rustic orange I had teased him about. It wasn’t that much of a showstopper when it came to gowns. It was made for my body with one shoulder, a high split up the thigh, and a nice dip to show off the diamonds going around my neck.

  “Th, that, this is too much,” I point with a shaky finger.

  “Let’s get it poppin’, Cinderella,” smacks Bianca.

  “Shit, I’m not going,” I cry.

  “See, I told you I was going to show the fuck out if this didn’t happen,” growls Bianca.

  “Mama, you have to go,” wails Brit. “All the money Johnny spent.”

  “I’ll pay you back for the wig and clothes, and that box is going back to him, so, he’s not out of nothing,” I reply in a rush.

  “I knew this was going to happen,” mumbles Ryann.

  “You are so dumb,” hisses Brit as she plops down in a chair.

  She better not be cussing under her breath while she switches on the TV. Like a moth to the flames, we’re all in a trance by the coverage of the awards show. A late-night show celebrity is hosting the event. The star-studded guest all laugh at a joke that is kinda funny. My eyes scan the beautiful people in hopes of a glimpse of Johnny in the crowd. I come up short though. I can hear Ryann and his friend arguing while I continue to watch and hold my breath. All I have to do is wait for one of the categories he’s nominated for. The camera is sure to pan to him.

  What if he replaced me with another date?

  I close my eyes over the possibility that I might come face to screen with the woman he’s moved on to. I mean, just because I’m still heart sore and processing the break up doesn’t mean he’s in the same boat as me. Time goes by. More jokes, more presenters, a few commercial breaks and performances, but no Johnny.

  “Now, the category of Best Rap Collaboration.”

  My ears perk up. I scoot to the edge of the couch as if I’m getting ready to jump through the mounted 32-inch flat-screen. One by one, the faces of the rappers in the crowd are added to a square panel. Suddenly, I suck all the air out of the room at the sight of Johnny. Chana is to his right and to his left is an empty seat. Relief and sadness washes over me. I could have been sitting there. I could have been the one holding his hand as we waited to hear the presenters call the winners names. My Lord he looks good, better than the last time I’ve seen him. His chiseled jaw is sporting a nice 5 o’clock shadow. The longer portion of his hair on top is brushed back from his forehead. His face is expressionless. He looks flawless and spills of sex and authority in his tailored black suit with crisp white shirt and black bow tie.

  “And the winners are.”
<
br />   Johnny leans over to listen to Chana whisper something in his ear.

  “Johnny Thicke and Nas; Break Every Rule.”

  His eyebrow arching is the only sign of shock to register on his face. I follow his tattooed hands when he buttons his suit jacket as he stands. Along the way towards the stage, others pat him on the back. Near the front, Nas joins him to walk up the steps to reach the mic. He smiles at the presenter, then turns to take one of the two trophies out of the hands of the females along the side. Quickly, he steps to Nas, whispers something, and Nas nods, giving Johnny first crack at the mic.

  “Thank you,” he begins. “This speech is going to be a bit different, so bear with me. I had been actually marking off the days until tonight, not because I was hoping to win one of these, but because I was going to be bringing a very special woman with me to the event. Unfortunately, if you were to check, you’ll see that her seat is empty,” he stops as if he’s looking at the empty seat. “I promised myself that if I won, I wasn’t going to use the time to praise people that I can talk to later, but to try to get through to the person that’s not only missing from that seat, but the woman that’s wrecking my every day because she’s missing from my life.

  He pauses as Nas pats him on the back for encouragement. The camera spans the crowd to show the moved expressions on the faces of the other guests. A few even shouts for him to go on.

  “I’ve made millions and a name off of singing about love and relationships, but not till I met Tia did I join the millions of people that have actually experienced love. It’s so funny how I could make people find love, and feel it, but I’ve spent most of my career longing for it. Needless to say, forces that didn’t want me happy has fucked things up. In spite of her treating me like shit instead of listening and talking to me, the days without her is too much to bear, so I can’t just walk away. Ya’ll say I’m the white man with the Luther Vandross voice, so let’s see.”

  “Oh shit, he’s going to sing Luther,” shouts Ryann. “It’s over! It’s fuckin’ over!”

  By the time Johnny parts his lips to start, he’s nothing but a watery image. Hands clutching my chest, I listen in disbelief.