Wellington smiled.
Jada hung up the phone and dialed Theo’s number.
“What’s up, baby doll? Speak to me.” It was ten past midnight.
“Theo, I need your help.” Jada felt like steam was blowing from her nostrils.
“That’s why I’m here. Shout.”
Jada paced about their San Francisco hotel suite. “Melanie—”
“I was wondering how long it was going to take you to ask me to handle her,” Theo replied. “I have enough dirt on that evil woman to bury her in her own cemetery, and if you want, it would give me great pleasure to give that miserable, conniving old broad Cynthia a dose of her own medicine. She shouldn’t leave here without feeling the burn of her own fire.”
“Handle it for me, sweetie. Let them know I mean business.” Jada felt relieved.
“Consider it done.”
“Thanks, Theo.”
“No. Thank you. You just made my day. I’ve got to pack and catch the next plane smokin’ to Oakland. Enjoy your honeymoon, baby doll.”
“Bye, Theo. You know I love you.” Jada hung up the phone and kissed Wellington. “Theo’s going to handle everything, baby.”
Wellington sat on the side of the bed, resting his head in his hands.
Maybe Jada had it backward. Maybe shit happened like love.
“Now I know the answer.” Jada wedged her face between Wellington’s fingers, kissed him, and looked deep into his eyes. “I love you, Wellington Jones, and I’m blessed to have married you.”
“You know the answer to what?” Wellington asked, extending his tongue.
After their sweetness united, Jada swallowed and said, “What does love have to do with anything? I’ve always asked myself that question. God puts us here for a reason. Often our desire clouds our purpose. But if the heart and spirit are in the right place”—Jada placed her right hand over the left side of Wellington’s chest—“someone other than yourself should be better off because of your judgment, not worse. From this day forward, I will live to make our lives better.”
“What does love have to do with anything?” Wellington asked again.
Jada paused, and responded, “Everything. I’ll be back in a sec.” Dashing to the powder room, Jada broke the seal on Forgiveness, massaged the fragrance into each breast, and opened one of her new toys. She strutted in front of Wellington and shoved him onto the bed. His eyes widened, and he grinned like the Grinch.
Jada’s sheer black nightwear slithered down her gorgeous ebony temple. “Lie on your back and spread ’em,” Jada commanded. She snapped the tip of her black licorice whip, extinguishing the candle’s flame, and said, “Mama’s gonna make you cum nice and slow all night long.”
Epilogue
Six months later, all’s well didn’t always end the same. Life for Simone and Junior changed drastically. Dating wasn’t Simone’s strength, and Wellington was now regretfully her weakness. In the beginning, Simone became so angry at Wellington she ceased every form of communication. After his attorney served her with a court order stating Wellington was suing for full custody, Simone reluctantly agreed to visitation.
Family gatherings for Lawrence resulted in introducing a new acquaintance. After their separation, he’d hoped Jada would return; but she never phoned after their divorce was finalized; so he reluctantly moved on with his life, vowing never again to marry any woman that was incompatible or still in love with someone else.
Melanie and Cynthia retreated. Once Theo exposed them, they were ostracized by several organizations. Cynthia’s dance with the devil finally ended with her second heart attack. Melanie buried Cynthia and moved to D.C. to be near her mother, Susan, and twin sister, Stephanie.
Maxine continued living at home and became a national spokesperson for the Center for Disease Control. The travel was tiresome but necessary. To every man, woman, boy, or girl she met, Maxine gave her two-minute AIDS awareness speech, always ending with, “Get tested. Know your status. The life you save may be your own.”
Darius survived quite well. He relocated to Washington, D.C., started his own business, and settled down with a Virgo woman who equally enjoyed having sex every day. After persuading her to get tested, Darius faithfully used a condom. Darius thought about Maxine often and prayed the Lord kept her emotionally healthy. Realizing if he was to heal from his past, he had to forgive his mother and biological father, and get to know his brothers and sister, Darius established a good relationship with Kevin and hired Darryl, Jr., to work for his company.
Jada left Zen in charge of Black Diamonds and flew to D.C. with Wellington to help Darius launch his business. They stayed an extra week, then headed home to Los Angeles. Encompassing all the joys they had imagined, Jada and Wellington lived each day as if they were honeymooners.
Poetry Corner
A Woman’s Got To Do
A woman’s got to do
Two things
Die and live
For herself—not you
Life is about choices
And she has a voice
She can scream
Or give you a look
She can whisper
Or give you a left hook
Of silence that is
But you still don’t get it
You’re too busy
And you know it all
Your boys come first
Your other women are next
And you still expect her
To give you her very best
A woman’s got to do
Two things
Because she lives in fear
Just like you
But a real woman knows
What she’s going to do
She can pamper her man
And spoil her kids
And when the day has come and gone
She can do it the next day too
But only if she wants to
Life is about choices
And she has a voice
But have you heard her out lately
Or dismissed her plea
When she’s done all she can do
And she just can’t be
The woman you want to clone
And somehow she still can’t seem
To leave your ass alone
Don’t fool yourself
A woman’s only got to do
Two things
So she gives all she has
And for you that’s still not enough
Life is about choices
And she has a voice
If you want to hear what she has to say
Listen to her silence
Listen to her silence
Instead of your words
Drowning out her essence
As she painfully sighs
You turn your back
And the tears roll down her face
As she cries
Can’t you see you’re overshadowing her space
Her place
Is where she wants to be
Not where you’ve staked your claim
But one day you’ll wake up
And she’ll be gone
Why
Because
A woman’s got to do
Two things
Live and die
For herself—not you
Don’t Hide My Face
Don’t hide my face
Behind someone else’s name
Because you’ve sinned and are ashamed
Of what you’ve done
Tell him
I’m not his son
Don’t hide my face
Behind your soul
Your conniving thoughts
Pot of gold
Mind
Mine
My
I’m traveling a road
I was told
Was the right path
Boy don’t you talk back
To me
&nbs
p; Is crazy
Cruel
Who wrote the golden rule
Not you
The woman I admire
Love
Respect
What the heck
Whose daddy is that
I thought he was
My heavenly Father
I pray
Every day
Don’t hide my face
In your trace
Of lies
Why
Why not
I do unto you
Damn!
Who’s my real father
This time look me in my eyes
Tell me the
Truth
Please don’t cry
You don’t even have to say why
If you don’t want
Me to die
An impostor
Then stop your lies
For God’s sake
Don’t forsake me
Quit hiding my face
Mama
This time
May be my last chance
The truth
And nothing but
Who is my biological father
Don’t say you don’t know
I know
My mother is
No whore so
Stop hiding my face
Behind yours
You Say You Love Your Man
You say you love your man
But you nag the hell out of him
All day long
Then you cry all night
When he doesn’t come home
You say you love your man
But you refuse to cook him a meal
Then you get pissed when he eats out alone
And chooses to leave your ass at home
You don’t wash his back
You won’t clean his clothes
And when he wants to have sex
You turn up your nose
You neglect to stroke his ego
Rub his feet
Or suck his dick
But you’re outraged and furious
When he fucks another chick
You say you love your man
But you’ll never love him
More than he loves you
Considering the foundation that you’ve laid
That’s damn easy to do
You talk behind his back
You won’t hem his slacks
And when he does something nice for you
You throw it right smack
Dead in his face
Did you do the same thing for that bitch!
You say you love your man
Girlfriend you need to quit
Because if you truly loved your man
You wouldn’t treat him like shit
The following is a sample chapter from Mary B. Morrison’s
eagerly anticipated novel,
SOMEBODY’S GOTTA BE ON TOP.
It will be available in August 2004 wherever hardcover books are sold.
ENJOY!
Monogamy wasn’t natural. Monogamy was a learned behavior that Darius couldn’t be taught. When would women realize sex wasn’t a bed partner of love? Besides, who would teach him how to be faithful? Jesse Jackson? Bill Cosby? Willie Brown? Bill Clinton? His dad, the ménage à trois king? All the men he respected, all the men he knew, were men. Fornicators. Adulterers. Players. The distinction of a real man was a real man kept his family in the foreground and his females in the background. Like backup singers. Once the song was over, their job was done. Thanks for having made him cum. Now go. With Darius, not many of his lovers deserved an encore.
“Ha!” Darius laughed then said aloud to himself, “You a fool boy.” His office was quiet all morning. No constant phone calls or interruptions by his secretary, Angel.
Any woman who wanted Darius Jones had to commit to him and only him. His woman had to have a job. Not any job. A high paying job. Preferably her own business. So what if he had enough money to take care of her. Her mama. And her grandmama. A woman without a steady income was venomous. A woman with too much idle time was lethal. No piece of ass was worth his millions of dollars. He was the only heir to his mother’s empire and one day would split his father’s fortune with one sibling who was barely four years old.
Those broke leeches in thongs, jiggling their asses on beaches or benches, at the bus stop, were the ones who were constantly plotting and planning—pregnancy, rape, battery—on how to become rich off of a man. For sex. For real. Any wealthy man would suffice. Mike. Kobe. Deon. Including him. Bullshit conniving tricks. They weren’t privy to suck his dick.
Rich pussy like the Vivica A’s, and Mary J’s, Halles, and Janets of the world needed stroking too. But they also had reputations worth protecting. Lawsuits to them translated into bad publicity. Lost revenue. They’d end the relationship before bringing forth charges. That’s the kind of woman Darius wanted. And if Darius ever caught his woman cheating, she didn’t need to waste his time explaining. Or packing. Because he’d personally have all of her shit moved out of his house. Immediately!
With Darius, no one got a second chance to make a bad impression. Except his mother. Darius pressed sixty-nine on his speed dial. His lungs expanded. The warm air escaped his nostrils, grazing his smooth upper lip.
“Hey, you,” she answered.
Her voice penetrated his soul. Chill bumps invaded his skin. The hairs on his arms stood tall. Darius wasn’t cold. He swallowed the lump clogging his vocal cords and said, “So, you packed yet? I can hardly wait to see you tonight. Make sure you arrive two hours early at the airport.” Darius deepened his voice then emphasized, “I don’t want you to miss your flight this time.”
Darius rolled his leather high-back chair until his abdomen pressed against the edge of his glass-top desk creating a crease in his wool jacket. Slowly he smoothed his finger over the photographic image of her naturally pink-colored lips. Thin and seemingly oh so very soft. She looked ravishing in the family picture they’d taken a month ago at Thanksgiving dinner with his parents.
“Are you still in the office?” she asked.
His hand traveled from her temple and traced the outline along her straight black hair, which cast a strikingly beautiful contrast against her nearly white complexion. His eyes fixated on hers.
Loving someone more than himself, more than life, more than making money, was absurd and not what Darius had planned. But this special woman—naw, she was more than a woman, she was a lady—had stolen his heart. First she’d become his platonic childhood playmate. Now she was his best friend. His only friend.
The honeysuckle scent of her hair, the subtle movement of her hips when she walked, the provocative melody of her voice each time she innocently laughed while calling his name, the gentleness of her touch whenever she groomed his dreadlocks, the taste of her words lingering on his palate as he gasped into the receiver consumed his thoughts. Nervous energy growled in the pit of his stomach reminding him he’d forgotten to eat lunch again today. Consciously he erased his boyish grin. She evoked feelings Darius swore he’d never harbor for any woman after having been betrayed by his ex-fiancée.
“Of course I’m still in the office. And my staff too. Just because it’s Friday and New Year’s Eve, doesn’t mean they’re entitled to leave early. I might let ’em go at three. Maybe. Now answer my question.”
“Don’t worry. I packed last night. And my dad is dropping me off in a few. I’ll call you when my plane lands in Oakland.” She paused then whispered, “I miss you, brother.”
Darius remained silent. Damn. Although they spoke every day, three to five times each day, he’d practically forgotten about the incident with her dad. Darius hadn’t seen her father since the day, over two years ago, when he’d beaten her father’s ass for causing his mother to hurt her arm and leg. In retrospect, Darius understood Lawrence’s frustrations with his mother because after that physical altercation Darius’s mother gave him the shock of his life. Therea
fter, his feelings for his mother numbed his compassion toward women even more. If his mother were a liar, then every other woman was too. Except his lady on the opposite end of the phone. But the feasibility existed, so he couldn’t completely trust her either. What a fucked-up world to live in, Darius thought, when the only person he could trust one hundred percent of the time was himself.
Forgetting about her dad and his mom, Darius massaged his erection through his pleated slacks hoping she’d continue talking, but hopefully not about her dad. Her voice had him so turned on he wanted to make love. To her. For years. Say something. Anything. Please. His dick urged, repeating her tone in his mind. I miss you. He’d missed her too. But silence lingered in his ear.
New Year’s Eve this year would be unforgettable. He wasn’t going to propose, but he’d finally gathered the courage to logically express the depth of his love. His birth parents weren’t hers so factually they weren’t related. And since his mom was remarried to her soul mate, Wellington Jones, the man his mother should’ve married instead of Lawrence, Darius felt Ashlee and he were two consenting adults capable of making their own decisions.