“I’ve decided to spend the night here, Mama. Why don’t you go on home and I’ll call you tomorrow. I promise.”
“Well! This is really just too much, Brenda Jewel Adams,” said Irene, posed at the end of the bed, with both hands on her hips.
“I’m still Mrs. Brenda Johnson, Mama. I’m not dropping my late husband’s name,” sighed Brenda, wearily and leaned her head back on the pillow.
“Humph. I’d never expect this kind of disrespect from you.”
“I’m sorry, Mama. I’m not trying to disrespect you. I think I can calm my nerves better here. I just want to spend a quiet night alone so I can pray and meditate. Please try to understand.”
“Well, I don’t understand! I don’t understand any of it. Sometimes I wonder whose child you really are because you sure as hell don’t take after me,” she said and snatched a linen handkerchief from the crevice of her breast. She cried dramatically into the handkerchief. “I’ve devoted my entire life to being there for you and all I get is ridiculed.” Irene whined, “Your father’s not much better. He completely ignores me now. I can’t get two words out of him these days except ‘How much did that cost?’ What am I suppose to do if I’m no longer needed as a wife and a mother.”
Brenda massaged her aching forehead. Irene, suddenly, grabbed her daughter by the torso and attempted to lift her from the bed. “Come on, Baby Girl. Enough is enough. You’re coming home with me,” she said, forcefully.
Brenda pushed her mother’s hands away, “No, Mama. I said I’d like to rest here tonight.”
Renee stepped closer to Irene until she was inches from her face. She didn’t know what had come over her but suddenly she felt as though she was transferring her suppressed anger for her long deceased Aunt Clara onto Irene Adams who actually reminded her of her overbearing aunt. Renee never had the nerve to stand up to Aunt Clara, but if she had been able to tell her off, she knew what she would have said. Renee gave Irene a hard-eyed stare. “Look Mrs. Adams, I know you’re Brenda’s mother but let’s get this straight. This is not about you or your need to control everything.”
In a shift move, Irene unfastened the single button that tugged at her midriff and flipped her jacket open. She crossed her arms and stood in front of Renee. Her squinted up face wore the distorted look of someone who was not only capable of violence but who was quite comfortable with it. “I know you don’t want me to take off my earrings,” said Irene, defiantly. “I can tell you’re an uptown girl and might not know what that means. But let me make it clear, you don’t wanna rumble with me tonight.”
“Mama, please! You’re making me feel worse. You really should go home now and stop worrying about me. God wouldn’t bring me this far to let me down now.”
“Goodness gracious, Brenda, I wish you would be more realistic about people. You trust strangers too easily. You’ve always been that way. That’s why you got stuck with that Jerome Johnson in the first place.”
Brenda tried to reason with her mother. “All I want to do right now is be alone so I can get down on my knees and pray for my dear husband’s soul,” Brenda said, wearily. “I know Jerome’s at peace. It’s not going to be easy the next few days putting him to rest but I’m not alone. None of us are. I only wish you had enough faith to believe that.”
“Humph, you’ll find out soon enough, Baby Doll, just who you can really count on. It’s not your so-called friends,” Irene said, her eyes like bullets that shot at Renee, “and not some mythical spirit in the sky. The only thing you can count on is blood kin, Baby. Everybody else will end up betraying you sooner or later.”
“Mama, if I didn’t know better I’d think you just got initiated into the Mafioso. You sound like something straight out of The Godfather.”
“That’s all right, Brenda. Go ahead and make fun of me but you’ll see what I’m talking about one day.” Irene stormed out the room and went downstairs to get her coat and hat. Renee and Brenda didn’t know what to say after that. A few seconds later, they heard the front door slam shut.
Chapter 28
The next morning Renee woke up like clockwork at seven and accepted two stark realities: her marriage was over, and there was no baby growing inside her. The half-million dollar house in Foxhall Crescent Estates that she shared with Bill for the past fourteen years now felt more like a place of entombment for the dead. The clock struck its last chime. Yesterday, Bill had presented her with separation papers and to his surprise she signed them. His ploy to force her to go back to their sterile existence backfired. Seeing the beginning of the end in writing, made her realize their marriage was suffocating them both. The last time their problems escalated to the point of discussing divorce, her attorney explained that either spouse could be granted a no-fault divorce after being separated for one year. There was no way she could stay in that house alone for one year. She’d put the house on the market and look for a small place of her own. Her thoughts turned to Deek.
Renee recalled how Deek had told her how he had narrowed down the hunt for his getaway cottage on Kent Island by simply keying in the location, price range, and other desired amenities into a real estate website that even gave the buyer a three dimensional view of every room in the property. She decided she would try out the world of virtual reality on the Internet later that evening. Searching the Net sounded a lot less time-consuming than driving around the city house hunting with an agent. Renee already knew she wanted a metro-accessible condo or brick rowhouse, something near a secure building downtown where she could rent office space to see patients. If anyone had told her that in less than a month’s time her life would tumble into a myriad of major changes, she would not have believed them.
Over this short time span, Renee had discovered she was two months pregnant but without a growing fetus, was on the verge of legally separating from her husband, and suddenly entangled in an arson/murder/kidnapping investigation. Nothing made sense anymore. She was glad today didn’t fall on one of her bi-weekly Tuesday mornings where she served breakfast to the homeless at Charlie’s Place inside a church on Connecticut Avenue NW. Brenda needed her more today. Renee got up, took a leisurely shower, and got dressed. By the time she finished dressing it was close to nine o’clock.
She slipped quietly down the hallway to check on her secretary, not wanting to wake her in case she was still asleep. She found the door ajar. Brenda was up but still in her nightgown and she was talking on the telephone to someone. Renee caught the tale end of the conversation. After Brenda hung up the phone she greeted Renee with a weak smile that revealed fatigue and lack of sleep. “That was Mrs. Johnson, my mother-in-law on the phone just now. She’s already contacted the funeral home that took care of everything when her husband’s mother passed away last year,” said Brenda, hugging herself as she stood by the nightstand, completely still. “Mrs. Johnson wanted to make sure I wouldn’t have a problem with her making the arrangements for her son. I know as Jerome’s wife that’s my responsibility but I’m so relieved she’s handling it.” Brenda sank down on the edge of the bed. “Making arrangements for my husband’s funeral would just about send me over the edge if I had to deal with that on top of everything else.”
Renee nodded. “Yes, that’s good Jerome’s mother is handing things under the circumstances.”
“She also told me that they’d be releasing Jerome’s body for burial in time for the funeral service that she’s already arranged for Friday. Naturally, it’ll have to be closed casket,” said Brenda, seemingly without emotion. But Renee understood this reaction was just her defense mechanism kicking in so she wouldn’t break down. Still, Renee wasn’t sure what to say to Brenda after that. It was obvious looking at her that she hadn’t slept well last night. After what seemed like a long pause, Renee asked, “Would you like to have your breakfast brought up or do you feel like coming downstairs?”
Before Brenda could answer the telephone rang again. Renee picked it up. B
renda stared at the phone in Renee’s hand and hung on every word. “Yes, this is the Hayes residence. Yes, I do know a Veda Simms. She did? Oh, how wonderful! Thank you very much. Yes, Mrs. Brenda Johnson is here in fact. Just a moment please.” Renee’s voice lifted in excitement as she held the telephone out to Brenda, “Veda recognized Little Justin’s photo on a television news broadcast last night and she called the number on the screen. It’s a Miss Shepherd on the phone, a social worker from Child and Family Services. She wants to speak to you.”
Brenda held the phone to her chest for a few seconds, closed her eyes and whispered ‘Thank You Lord’, before she answered. Renee watched as Brenda’s grin widened and her face turned exuberant. Although Renee could only hear one side of the conversation, she could tell from the expression on Brenda’s face that everything would be all right. “Thank God, my prayers have been answered,” said Brenda to the woman on the phone. “Where’s my baby now? Can I come get him?”
Brenda nodded, “Yes, Ma’am, I understand. I’ll be there this morning with my documentation. Thank you Miss Shepherd for calling me as soon as you found out.”
Brenda hung up. Out of breath from her excitement, she explained to Renee what the social worker from Intake Division had told her she needed to do in order to get custody of her son back. Miss Shepherd said Baby Justin had been examined by a pediatrician at Children’s Hospital and had suffered no outward or internal injuries from his ordeal. He was currently being cared for by a very competent foster mother. Brenda grabbed a pair of Renee’s jeans and a pullover sweater that had been neatly folded in the bottom drawer and went into the bathroom to get dressed, leaving the door partly open so they could still talk. “See Dr. Renee, didn’t I tell you? God is so good,” said Brenda as she threw off the borrowed nightgown and stepped into a nearly new pair of jeans. “I knew my baby would be all right.”
“What did Miss Shepherd say we have to do in order to get Justin returned to you?” Renee asked, while Brenda glided the sweater over her head and splashed water on her face.
“First, I have to go down to Child and Family Services’ Intake office and show them proof that I’m who I say I am. My driver’s license should be enough proof. I sure hope so because all I have left to my name is what’s in my purse and what I carried with me to work that morning. But that’s all right as long as my little boy’s fine.”
Brenda came out the bathroom fully dressed and ready to go. She picked up her purse from the nightstand and checked its contents to make sure she had everything she needed. “I hope my driver’s license will be enough for them because I don’t have my birth certificate, social security card or Justin’s birth certificate either. I’ll have to request duplicates of everything from Vital Statistics.” She took out her cell phone and dropped it on the nightstand, “This won’t do me any good now because the battery’s dead and I don’t have the charger.”
“I’m sure you have pictures of Justin in your wallet,” said Renee, “I should think that would be sufficient proof.”
“Just in case it’s not, I hope Miss Shepherd isn’t one of those types who go strictly by the book and forces me through a bunch of red tape.”
“Don’t worry, Dear. As a CASA volunteer I’ve worked with Child and Family Services plenty of times and I’ve dealt with the Courts. If necessary I can call in a few favors.”
“That’s a relief,” said Brenda as she picked up her purse. “What’s a CASA volunteer?”
“CASA stands for Court Appointed Special Advocate. At the CASA program I work with at-risk children on a regular basis where children are placed in temporary foster care. I’m certain Justin is with a nurturing caregiver. Just waiting for his mama to get there and bring him home,” Renee smiled.
“I’m sure too, Dr. Renee, but not for the same reasons you are,” Brenda said, reflectively.
“Okay, let’s go then. Would you like to drive my car? I think it’ll be better to take it rather than calling Remy, my driver, since who knows how many stops we’ll have to make along the way,” said Renee, turning out the light switch. “I just need to stop in my bedroom to get my bag and the keys.”
“Certainly, I can drive if you want,” said Brenda, following her.
On the way downstairs they smelled a buttery aroma mixed with sweet spices from the cinnamon Streusel coffee cake that Chizuko had just removed from the oven and placed on the counter to cool. The scent from homemade cake baking in the morning, combined with the rich fragrance of French roast coffee, was a good start for Renee. Chizuko had also cut up two small bowls of fresh melon and had set the table in the breakfast room for her employer and house guest. Renee thanked Chizuko for her efforts and let her know that after breakfast they would be going out for awhile and she would not need her help for the rest of the day. She would get her driver, Remy to pick her up, and Renee would cover the cost as usual. Chizuko bowed and thanked Renee, then quietly exited to her small room on the first floor to pack up her things. Renee dialed Remy. He was used to getting her last minute requests so he assured her that he could be there in about an hour to take Chizuko home.
That solved, Renee hoped Brenda would not mind sitting down to a quick breakfast before they left for the agency so as not to offend Chizuko. Brenda assured her she did not mind and in fact admitted that she was indeed starving, having not eaten barely anything for the past 24 hours. Now that her spirits had been uplifted at hearing the good news about her child, her appetite had returned. The coffee cake was delicious and Brenda marveled at how well Chizuko who was Japanese could cook American food, especially considering that according to Renee she hadn’t been in this country that long. Relishing each bite, they both surmised that Chizuko must be a natural-born chef.
Not to be left out Renee’s cat, Angel nibbled at a dish of chicken in gravy that sat on the floor off to the corner. The cat had been trained not to jump up on the kitchen counter so Renee didn’t worry about having their breakfast arranged buffet-style on the counter. When Angel had consumed her fill of gourmet cat food and sipped from the water bowl, she curled on the floor and licked herself clean. Then, she padded over to the table where Renee and Brenda sat and hovered under it, purring around Renee’s feet. Renee didn’t bother to shoo the cat away as she ate. They’d become friends since Bill moved out, or at least, they tolerated each other better.
Actually, Renee realized as she smiled across the table at Brenda that it felt good to have a friend to share things with, both the good and the bad things. She didn’t know if Brenda regarded her as one of her girlfriends like Cha-Cha and Veda, but she hoped that one day she would be able to fit in and have a group of close female companions the way Brenda, Cha-Cha, and Veda were with each other. They looked out for each other. That was something Renee had never experienced before. She couldn’t really count her mentor Dr. Helen Stone as meeting those qualifications because she was her psychiatrist not her girlfriend. Renee was glad that she was able to be there for Brenda. It felt good to be able to help someone else. She would see Brenda through all of it, the funeral, getting her son back, and helping to find out who was responsible for Jerome’s murder. Suddenly, she realized she needed to call Deek and update him but she’d wait until they were underway and call him from her cell phone since she wouldn’t be the one driving to the agency.
After breakfast, Renee quickly stacked the dishes in the sink, knowing that Chizuko would finish cleaning the kitchen before she left. She and Brenda were both anxious to get downtown to the intake office. Renee called out to her housekeeper to tell her she was leaving. She then dropped the keys in Brenda’s open palm. They left through the garage.
While Brenda drove Renee retrieved her cell phone from her purse and called Deek. She noticed that Brenda took Canal Road to Whitehurst Freeway, but didn’t pay much attention to the route Brenda took after Deek answered on the first ring. “Good Morning, Doc. Good of you to call. I was just about to call you
as a matter of fact.”
Hearing Deek’s voice put a smile on her face. A warm sensation came over her as she listened to him speak. She recalled the last time they had been alone together at his cottage on Kent Island. Now was probably not the time, but she couldn’t deny the ache in the pit of her stomach and admitted to herself that she missed him. Oblivious to her thoughts about him, Deek updated Renee on the investigation in a matter-of-fact tone. Renee was careful not to respond in any way that might upset Brenda, so for the most part she listened to Deek without comment. He told Renee that the police were still tracking down the victim’s coworkers, family members, and friends for questioning. Officers had been canvassing the neighborhood to find out if Jerome had any enemies, anyone who wanted to see him dead. They would backtrack again today to catch anything they might have missed. So far no eyewitnesses had come forward.
He told her that the primary physical evidence that investigators had collected from the debris and exterior premises consisted of, a shoe print picture taken near the exit area, pieces of a burnt-out gas can, bits of duct tape found strewn under the rear kitchen window, and a miniscule piece of fabric caught on the window frame. No ideal, preserved crime scene existed because the entire top structure of the house had collapsed in the fire. Investigators hoped DNA and laboratory analysis would be able to provide some answers from the evidence Deek sent them. Right now they had nothing conclusive to tie anyone to the crime. When Deek finished giving her his update Renee realized she had almost forgotten to tell Deek the reason for her call.
She then told him that she and Brenda were on their way to Child and Family Services office. She explained how Veda Simms had recognized Brenda’s son’s photograph and had contacted the agency right away. Veda had guessed correctly that Brenda might be staying with Renee and she gave them her home number. As a backup she also gave them Mrs. Adams’ full name so they could locate Brenda’s mother in case Brenda had not been at Renee’s place. Veda did not know Mrs. Adams’ phone number or address, but she figured that the agency could locate her if they had her full name. Deek was relieved to hear that Brenda’s son had been found safe. He offered to help if things didn’t run smoothly at the agency when they got there.
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