by L. J. Taylor
DREAMS DEFERRED
L.J. TAYLOR
Waterview Publishing, LLC
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Table of Contents
Chapter I
Chapter II
Chapter III
Chapter IV
Chapter V
Chapter VI
Chapter VII
Chapter VIII
Chapter IX
Chapter X
Chapter XI
Chapter XII
Chapter XIII
Chapter XIV
Chapter XV
Chapter XVI
Chapter XVII
Chapter XVIII
Chapter XIX
Chapter XX
Book Reviews
About the Author
Get Exclusive Material
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Copyright
Just Dreams
Chapter I
The last time Ivy saw her son, he couldn’t speak more than a dozen words. Now, he was holding entire conversations. His little braids bobbled as he ran back and forth, laughing and chatting with a little girl at least three years his senior. She seemed content to keep him company.
Ivy sighed. Omari was growing up so fast and here she was, in prison, missing the important things in his life.
The large visitation room was filled with inmates wearing orange jumpsuits sitting with their visitors at tables. The walls were painted a drab olive green and the place had that institutional smell – antiseptic over body odor.
One inmate was crying. Her guest sat across from her, his arms crossed, looking as if he wished he were anywhere else. Another couple argued. Although they kept their voices low, Ivy caught a few curse words. She turned back to her mother who looked completely out of place in her smartly tailored suit, tasteful jewelry and impeccable make-up. Not a single tendril had dared slip out of place from her perfectly coiffed hair. “This is no place for Omari, Ma. Please don’t bring him here again.”
“Don’t be silly, darling. It’s not as if he isn’t used to this sort of environment. You did have him in jail and raise him in the halfway house after all,” Gwendolyn said.
“That was different. He was just a little baby. He didn’t understand as much then as he does now. And the halfway house was different. It was a better place – just mothers and their kids. They weren’t hardened criminals like some of the people in here.”
“Well, I don’t see the difference, but I won’t argue the point with you. You get out in two weeks anyway. Thank God this will finally be over. All this drama hasn’t been good for my heart. You and Omari will come and stay with me in New York when you get out.”
Ivy barely stopped herself from rolling her eyes. In typical Gwendolyn fashion, her mother had made the statement in the affirmative with no question whatsoever in her tone. If Ivy let her, Gwendolyn would plan her entire life – including every detail concerning how her grandson should be raised. Living with her would be absolute hell. Luckily, that wasn’t an option.
“Well actually, Ma, I meant to talk to you about that. See, when I get out, I’ll be on probation. One of the conditions of my probation is that I have to stay here in Miami. I can’t leave South Florida.”
Gwendolyn frowned. “What? That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.” She waved a hand in the air as if swatting away some pesky fly. “Surely, you can get them to waive that requirement.”
Ivy bit her lip to keep from smiling. She shook her head. “I’m afraid not.”
“So where are you going to live?” Gwendolyn leaned forward, clasped her hand around Ivy’s wrist and squeezed. “Tell me you’re not going back to that man. That’s how you ended up in this place to begin with.”
Ivy winced. She glanced up to see if anyone was listening to their conversation. Everyone else appeared to be engrossed in their own drama, except for the children. They played as if they didn’t have a care in the world. They might have been in a playground instead of a prison visitation room. She patted the back of her mother’s hand, hoping it would inspire her to loosen the talons digging into her wrist. “No, of course not. I’m going to stay with Kathy and Charles for a while until I get on my feet and find myself a place.”
Her mother nodded and then released her grip on Ivy’s wrist. “Okay. At least you’ll be with family. Kathy will set you straight.”
Ivy massaged her wrist. “That’s what I’m afraid of. You know how she is. She can be a little intense. Do you remember the time her ex-husband got fired from his job? He called her looking for a little sympathy, no doubt, and all Kathy could say was: ‘What are you calling me for? Hang up and start looking for another job.’”
Gwendolyn laughed. “Yes, your sister can be a little driven sometimes, but she means well.”
Ivy leaned forward. “Ma, I want you to know how sorry I am about all this. I’ve had a lot of time to think about how much I‘ve messed up not only my life but yours and Omari’s as well. I know I let you down, but I promise to make it better and turn my life around.”
Gwendolyn threw her a skeptical look. “Uh-huh. Well time will tell. At least you see how difficult this has been for all of us. You’re going to have to make much better choices in the future. It’s not just you that you have to think about now. You have to think about what’s best for my little grandson over there.” She looked over at Omari and watched him play. Her eyes softened. “He’s so adorable, isn’t he? I have to say that I’ve thoroughly enjoyed having him with me in New York.” She turned back to Ivy and sent her a hard determined look. “I hope you don’t plan to snatch him away from me the minute you get out.”
Ivy sat back in her seat, a little surprised at the sudden change in her mother’s demeanor. “Of course not. We’ll have to have some sort of transition. Otherwise, poor Omari is going to feel like he’s being shuttled around.”
“I agree. I’ll tell you what. Why don’t you take a few months to get sorted out? Then I’ll fly down with Omari and stay with you and Kathy for a week or so. That way, Omari won’t feel like I just disappeared.”
A few months? Ivy wondered exactly how many months constituted “a few” in Gwendolyn’s mind. She needed to put her foot down now or it would be six months before she saw her son again. She couldn’t have that. It was already killing her how much of his life she had missed. Her first instinct was to rebel – to simply say that Omari was her son and she’d decide when he came back to live with her. She knew, however, that would only start an argument - one she couldn’t win given her situation. She took a deep breath and decided to avert the crisis with charm. “That’s a great idea. Why don’t you bring him back to Miami in about eight weeks and stay with me and Kathy? That way, I get to spend a little time with you too. It’s been a while.”
Her little ploy seemed to work. Gwendolyn lost her determined look and nodded. “Three years and two months to be exact. And that was a depressing time if there ever was one. You were getting ready to start your sentence. You were pregnant, not eating, and scared to death. I was scared for you. We didn’t know what to expect. Thank God you and Omari made it through okay.”
Ivy patted her hand. “Everything’s going to work out just fine, Ma. You’ll see.”
Ivy’s cellmate, Karen, walked up to their table accompanied by her gorgeous brother, Luke. Ivy felt her heartbeat speed up when she looked up into his pretty brown e
yes. Seeing him always had that effect on her. He was just her type--tall, built, with a dark chocolate complexion and long dreadlocks tied neatly back with a leather strip.
Ivy smiled up at him. He returned her smile, drawing Ivy’s attention to his lips, which led her thoughts to other things.
Karen cleared her throat. “Hi, Mrs. Brooks.”
“Hello Karen.” Gwendolyn’s tone was cool. She stared at Ivy, her eyes narrowed.
Ivy looked down and felt the warmth of a blush travel up her cheek. She hoped no-one would notice.
“This is my brother Luke,” Karen said. “Luke, this is Mrs. Gwendolyn Brooks, Ivy’s mother.”
Luke shook Gwendolyn’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Mrs. Brooks.”
“Likewise.” Gwendolyn waited a beat. “Well, it was nice meeting you. I hope you enjoy the rest of your visit with your sister. Ivy and I have a few things to discuss before I leave.”
“Of course,” Luke said. “We didn’t mean to overstay our welcome. Enjoy the rest of your visit.” He and Karen walked away.
Ivy’s mouth fell open. “Ma! Did you have to be so rude?”
“Yes. When you leave here, you need to leave all of this behind and that includes fraternizing with your cellmate and her brother. I saw the way you two were looking at each other.”
“Look, I know you mean well, but that was unnecessary. Of course I was looking at him. I mean – I’m not dead and he is fine, but do you really think I’m just going to fall back into the same old patterns that got me in here in the first place? I know I have a lot of work to do to get my life together, but you also have to understand that some people do deserve a second chance. Not everyone in here is a hardened criminal.
Karen ended up in here because she was in the wrong place at the wrong time with the wrong guy. Neither one of us is eager to repeat the experience. But if I’m going to make it, then I’m going to have to develop good judgment when it comes to people and you’re just going to have to learn to trust it. With all due respect, Ma, you can’t pick my friends for me.”
“Well someone should,” Gwendolyn said, “because your judgment hasn’t proven to be great so far.”
Years of pent-up bitterness and resentment rose up in Ivy’s gorge until it almost spewed out of her mouth. How dare Gwendolyn pretend to be some great maternal figure after shipping Ivy off to boarding school for half her childhood?
What made it worse though, was that her mother had a knack for hitting right on a sore spot. Gwendolyn’s words wouldn’t have hit so close to home if she herself had more confidence in her ability to make better choices in men. She’d always been attracted to the bad boys--the badder the better. There was something hot and exciting about being with a dangerous man. The bad boys were attracted to her too – in droves – like she was some sort of bad boy magnet. In fact, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d dated a “good” guy. They just didn’t seem to do it for her. That didn’t mean she couldn’t change. In fact, she planned to avoid men altogether for a while just to be safe. Later, much later, she’d work on changing her track record.
Ivy lifted an eyebrow and opened her mouth to make a sarcastic retort but was interrupted by Omari, who came running across the room.
“Mommy, Mommy,” he said at the top of his little lungs. “Look what I made!”
Ivy looked down at the coloring book he held and saw that he had tried to color in a rabbit with blue, pink and yellow crayon. She smiled, pulled him up onto her lap and gave him a kiss. “It’s lovely, baby. Why don’t you color in the picture on the next page too?”
“Okay Mommy. I have to get the crayons.” He squirmed his way off her lap.
As Ivy watched Omari run across the room on a mission to get the crayons, she realized what a great job her mother had done with him. He was happy and healthy and smart. It was all she could ask for since she hadn’t been able to raise him herself over the past year and a half. She looked at her mother who was busy watching Omari play. Maybe it was time to cut her a little slack. Over time, maybe Gwendolyn would learn to do the same.
As if sensing Ivy’s thoughts, Gwendolyn turned to face her and arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow. “You were saying?”
Ivy grimaced.
***
After her mother and Omari left, Ivy was escorted back to her cell by one of the guards. Karen was already there.
Ivy threw herself onto the lower bunk. “I am so sorry for the way my mother acted towards your brother.”
Karen waved a hand. “No sweat. We’re going to run into a lot of that when we get out. My brother understood. Somebody had to put the brakes on or you two might have ended up sneaking off to a broom closet. I know it’s been a minute since you had some.”
Ivy laughed. “Yeah right. That would have gone over well. Anyway, there are a million things I have to take care of when I get out of here and they don’t include getting involved with a man - even if he is as fine as your brother. You know--things like getting a job, a place, a life.”
“I know what you mean girl. As excited as I am about getting out, it’s a little scary too.”
“Yeah. I just want to make a good life for Omari and make better choices this time.”
“What are you going to do about Omari’s father? Are you going to tell him about Omari?”
“No. I don’t need to have him hanging around Omari and being a bad influence on him or getting me into trouble.”
Karen frowned. “But you have to tell him. He has a right to know Omari is his son and an obligation to help take care of him. You don’t have the right to conceal that information from him.”
Ivy stared at Karen. Where was this coming from? They had talked about this issue before and Karen had never expressed so strong an opinion. In fact, she’d never expressed any opinion at all on the subject. “Well, why don’t you just tell me how you really feel? What’s your problem? You never talked about Zeke’s rights before.”
Karen shrugged. “I always felt this way. I just thought you’d get around to making the right decision by the time we got out. There are so many kids growing up nowadays without fathers and getting into trouble. Just look at us. My father ran off when I was two years old and yours died when you were little. My mother worked two jobs to make ends meet so she wasn’t around much. Yours shipped you off to boarding school. And look where we ended up.” She put a finger up and made a circular gesture to include their cell.
“I hear what you’re saying, but that argument doesn’t apply here.”
“Why not?”
“Well, for one thing, Omari’s father is a criminal himself. He just hasn’t been caught yet. I don’t want Omari growing up to be just like him.” Ivy shuddered at the thought. “Besides, Zeke never wanted kids. He told me so. If he’d known I was pregnant, he would have made me get an abortion.”
Karen made a face. “No-one can make you get an abortion.”
Ivy grimaced. “You don’t know Zeke. Anyway, I was so in love with him back then I would have done anything for him. The point is that Zeke doesn’t want to have anything to do with kids. Hell, for all I know, he doesn’t want anything to do with me either.” She got up and began to pace the small cell. “He hasn’t bothered to visit me one time since I’ve been inside even though I went down for him. If he had, he’d have known I was pregnant.”
She shook her head fiercely and whirled to face her cellmate. “No. Omari is my child. I’m the one who went through forty hours of labor to have him. I’m the one who pushed him out. I’m the one who fed and clothed and loved him all his life. Well, except for the past eighteen months, but that was outside of my control. I will not have Omari hurt or influenced by that fool.” She stalked back to the bunk and sat down on the edge. Tears flowed down her face. She dashed them away. She hadn’t realized how strongly she felt about the subject. She had a way of hiding her feelings--even from herself.
At first, she’d been so angry with Zeke for getting her in this mess to begin with and the
n abandoning her, but then Omari came along. He became the focus of her world and she all but forgot about Zeke. But now that her release date was getting closer and she and Omari were separated, the old feelings crept back to the surface.
Karen hopped off the top bunk, sat down next to Ivy and patted her on the shoulder. “Look. All I’m saying is that Omari is here now, and whether you like it or not, Zeke is entitled to know he has a son and to be a part of his life if he chooses to.”
“No. You don’t understand the type of man we’re dealing with here. It’s best, for everyone involved, that he never finds out he has a son. Mark my words, nothing good would come out of Zeke learning about Omari.”
***
Zeke stood in front of the two way mirror separating his office from the second level of the dark and empty nightclub. It was 6:00a.m. Stages usually occupied by gyrating dancers were empty as were the dance floor and the tables surrounding it. He liked moments like this--the calm before the storm. He turned to Terrell, his second in command, who lounged on the couch smoking a cigarette. “Ivy’s getting out tomorrow. I want you to keep an eye on her and find out where she goes.”
Terrell nodded. “Alright, Zeke.” He was silent for a moment. “Think it’s a good idea to start tapping that again?”
Zeke shrugged. “Why not? She’s proven her loyalty. Besides, I’d have to be crazy not to get me a taste of that. After all this time, she should be primed and ready.” A grin spread across his face.
Terrell snickered. “Yeah, that is one fine piece of ass, but won’t she be looking for a cut or something now that she’s made this big sacrifice?”
Zeke shrugged again. “She’ll take what I give her. If she gets too stupid about it, we’ll deal with her. In the meantime, I have a few plans for that fine ass.”
Terrell grinned. The grin left his face abruptly, however, when the door to the office burst open and two men hauled a third man inside. The third man was bleeding from the nose and an open cut on his right cheek. He struggled against the grip of his captors.