Single Mama Drama

I rolled my eyes. If we meant so much to each other, why hadn’t he proposed? “You know exactly what we meant to each other,” I said frankly. Lewis had been, for lack of a better word, a booty call. “More importantly, I know it.”

“Baby, don’t be like that.”

“What do you want, Lewis?”

“I’m phoning to see how you’re doing. Is that against the law?”

I didn’t say anything. I wondered if the timing of his call was coincidental, or if he, like most of America, had learned about Eli’s death on CNN.

“I heard about your fiancé on the radio,” he stated, answering my question.

“Of course.”

“So how are you?”

I lowered myself onto a chair in my kitchen. “I’m hanging in.”

“You sure? Because if I was as shocked as I was to learn that Eli was killed while in the arms of some other honey, I can only imagine how you took the news. Especially after how much you raved about him being the perfect guy.”

“If you’re calling to gloat, then I’m going to hang up now.”

“No, no, I’m not,” he said hurriedly. “Look, I’m sorry. I really am. I know how much you cared about him.”

I waited for more, but there was none. Maybe Lewis was being sincere. “Thank you,” I told him.

“I could come over, if you like,” he murmured.

Of course. “Why?”

“To keep you company. Offer you my shoulder to cry on.”

I’ll bet, I thought. But I said, “I’m fine. I’m going to spend a quiet evening with Rayna.”

“But she’s gonna head to bed sometime soon, right? In the next hour or two. And after that, you might need someone.”

I narrowed my eyes again, wondering why I had even considered giving Lewis the benefit of the doubt. Whenever he called, it was about one thing.

Sex.

I’ll be the first to admit that my feelings for Lewis had started out as pure lust when I met him at a South Beach nightclub. I always knew he was a smooth operator, the kind of guy you can’t completely trust in terms of a relationship. And that was okay, because I didn’t want anything serious with him. He was a guy I enjoyed spending time with because he was a lot of fun. Goofy. Whether pulling off lame Michael Jackson moves on a crowded dance floor or tickling me while we were naked in bed, he never failed to make me laugh.

I loved how I felt when I was out on his arm, the way women stared at me with envy. And I loved the passion we shared in the bedroom. He treated me well, wined and dined me in style. We had an easy rapport and some serious chemistry. And he got along well with Rayna, too, on the occasions when he’d come over and spend time with both of us.

After a while, what had started as lust had turned into love.

“What time should I come over?” Lewis asked, his voice husky.

“I’ll be fine, Lewis.”

“I’m not sure you should be alone right now. The first night is always the worst after a tragedy like this. Let me come by, hold you in my arms and help you sleep.”

“I can’t believe you. You are not suggesting we hook up tonight.”

There was a moment of silence, and I fully expected Lewis to deny my accusation—if only halfheartedly. Instead, he said in a low voice, “I miss you.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“No, seriously, I do. In fact, I’ve been thinking a lot about you lately, and how things ended between us. I feel really bad about that.”

I rolled my eyes. If I hadn’t moved on, Lewis’s words might actually have me taking a trip down memory lane. But I still remembered vividly how he’d told me we couldn’t be together because of Rayna. Actually, he’d used the lame excuse that Rayna’s father, my no-good ex, who only wanted to be a father when the mood struck, might come back into our lives, leaving him out in the cold, heartbroken.

Of course, he’d come up with this lame excuse after I’d found a red thong in his pocket.

At the time, I’d been crushed. Now, the absurdity of it all made me want to laugh out loud.

“Lewis, you’re a trip.”

“Let me come over.”

Because I knew him, and knew that he might just decide to drop by in hopes of seducing me, I lied. “I have plans.”

“You said you were spending a quiet evening with your daughter,” Lewis said, his voice full of doubt.

“Yeah, well…in all the chaos of the day I forgot that my sister said she was going to come over.”

“Tell her to come tomorrow.”

Something struck me, a thought I hadn’t considered before. “It can’t wait till tomorrow, because I have to contact the police about Eli. To make inquiries about his body. Nikki said she’d be there for me as I did that.”

“Oh.” Lewis sounded convinced, though unhappy. “Maybe after that?”

I heard a thud, then Rayna’s loud cry. “Lewis, I have to go. Rayna just fell.”

“Call me later,” he said quickly.

I hung up the phone and raced into the living room. My daughter was on her back on the hardwood floor, bawling at the top of her lungs.

“Oh, baby.” I lifted her into my arms and gently cooed, offering her comfort.

But as she cried, her raw emotion triggered the overwhelming sadness inside me that needed an outlet for release. It overpowered me, refusing to be contained any longer.

My own tears started to fall, my anguished cries mixing with my daughter’s.

chapter five

Thankfully, an hour later, Rayna fell asleep. I’d fed her, bathed her, read her a story, and then she was out like a light. It wasn’t like her to fall asleep before eight o’clock—trust me—but it was just what I needed, and I was grateful.

She was so tired, she didn’t even ask about “Daddy.” I knew the question would come, but hopefully, when it did, I’d be in a better frame of mind to answer it.

The phone hadn’t stopped ringing while I’d put together a quick dinner of chicken strips and broccoli, so I’d taken it off the hook. Now, I gave Rayna one last kiss on her forehead, content with the fact that she was sleeping peacefully, and made my way to the kitchen to replace the receiver.

By now, the reporters were certain to have given up in their attempts to reach me, and I needed to use my phone. I would have to call my sister because she had no doubt tried calling me. After that, I would contact the police and find out what a person was supposed to do when her fiancé had been murdered.

But before I did anything, I needed a glass of wine. I poured myself an extra large glass of white zinfandel, then went to the living room and plopped down on the leather sofa.

For several moments I sat there, unmoving. Myriad thoughts ran through my mind like little feet trampling my brain, leaving me with a headache. There was so much I needed to do, but I wasn’t ready for any of it. Alaina had asked if I’d told Rayna about heaven. I hadn’t, and maybe I should head out tomorrow to buy some books on the matter. Children’s books, of course—something that could explain the concept of death to a child.

Or I could simply tell her that Eli was gone on a trip. That was something Rayna would understand. Every day, if she asked, I could tell her that Eli was coming home soon. Surely, one day, she’d just stop asking about him….

I took a sip of my wine and frowned, knowing I couldn’t take the chicken’s way out of the scenario. However I explained it to Rayna, she needed to know that Eli wasn’t coming home. It would be grossly unfair to lead her on, and ultimately make her think Eli had abandoned us. Kids didn’t forget things like that, and I’d be guaranteed to foot the therapy bill later if I dared to venture down that road.

My thoughts were disrupted by the shrill ring of the telephone. There was a cordless handset on the coffee table beside the sofa, and I quickly glanced at the caller ID.

It was my sister’s home number. I inhaled deeply, then picked up the phone. I knew I’d have to talk to her sooner or later but, Nikki being Nikki, I wasn’t relishing the idea.

“Hey, Nikki,” I said, offering her the most upbeat greeting I could muster.

“When were you going to call me?” she demanded.

I counted to three before answering. “It’s been a crazy evening. The media is camped outside my building, my phone has been ringing off the hook.”

“I called at least twenty times.”

“I was just going to call you.”

A beat passed. Then my sister asked, “How are you?”

Wow, genuine concern. “I’m…okay. As okay as I can be, I guess.”

“Is Rayna sleeping?”

“Yes. She went down a little while ago.”

“Good. So you can talk.”

I sipped more wine. “For a bit.”

“I’ve got to tell you, Vanessa,” my sister began, “when I saw the news earlier, I nearly crapped my pants.”

How did you respond to that? I decided not to.

“It was so disturbing—seeing the cops all over the crime scene, hearing the gruesome details, hearing your name in association with that creep…I had to turn the TV off. I didn’t want my boys seeing that.”

“Right,” I said absently.

“Didn’t I tell you?” Nikki demanded. “Didn’t I tell you that Eli was going to hurt you sooner rather than later?”

“Nikki—”

“Not only did the jerk have a girlfriend on the side, he still had a wife.”

I reeled backward, caught off guard. “What?”

“I turned on the TV five minutes ago and there was a news crew outside Eli’s wife’s house in Atlanta. They were hoping to get a comment from her or something.”

Suddenly, I understood what was going on. And leave it to my sister to find a way to rub salt into my wound without trying to decipher fact from fiction. Nikki had a way of getting under my skin without much effort. She never approved of any guy I dated, nor most of my decisions as a parent. When I got pregnant and found myself alone, she’d chastised me for having dated Byron in the first place, instead of offering me comfort over my predicament.

Nikki married the only man she’d ever slept with, her high school sweetheart, had two children with him, and was a stay-at-home mom. I was single, parenting without any help, and couldn’t find a decent guy to save my life.

Compared to her, I was a failure. At least that’s the way she made me feel.

“Eli’s ex-wife,” I corrected her.

“Why would they be at her house if she’s his ex?” Nikki asked.

“You know the damn media. The juicier they can make this story, the better. Besides, Eli was married while he played for the Braves. I’m not surprised they would want her comment, given what’s happened.”

“You sure he didn’t lie to you about her?”

I felt a surge of anger, but drew in a deep breath to keep it under control. “Of course I’m sure. I did an Internet search when Eli and I got serious. I saw with my own eyes the articles about his marriage breaking up. Apparently it was a bitter split. And that was back in 2002.” The various archived article headings in the Atlanta Journal-Constitution had all proclaimed the same thing—that Eli Johnson and his wife of six years were headed for divorce court. The headlines were all I could scan without paying a fee to read the full stories, but that had been enough. I wasn’t interested in seeing the entire articles and reading about Eli’s love affair with another woman, even if it had gone sour.

“Oh.” I wasn’t sure, but my sister sounded disappointed. “Even if he didn’t lie about being married, I knew he was a player as soon as I met him. That’s probably why he and his wife got divorced. Former professional athlete. Did you need a bigger clue than that?”

I rolled my eyes.

“Do you know how many women guys like that sleep with?”

“Nikki—”

“You remember that one basketball player—the one who bragged about sleeping with more than ten thousand women? Vanessa, you’d better get an AIDS test. Like, yesterday.”

“Nikki!”

“I say we go together tomorrow. If you’ve got AIDS, you need to know.”

“Nikki!”

She finally stopped. “What?”

I exhaled sharply. “Why can’t you just call and tell me you’re sorry that Eli’s dead? Sorry that I’m going through this? Why do you have to preach to me like you’re my mother? I’m a grown woman.”

“A grown woman who keeps making colossal mistakes with men. You worry about penis size and pretty-boy looks. That has gotten you nothing but heartache.”

“Ahh, now I get it. Morris has got a small penis. No wonder you’re so damn uptight!”

I couldn’t help the words that came from my mouth. My sister’s phone call was doing more to send me into a deep depression than to help me out of my funk.

“Fine. Lash out at me. I’m not the one who screwed around on you.”

“Do you take special pleasure in telling people ‘I told you so’? Because my fiancé just died. My fiancé. I don’t need a lecture from you. I need…” My voice broke, croaking with emotion. I did my best not to cry; she’d probably get some warped sense of satisfaction from it.

I heard her sigh. “You’re right. And I’m sorry. I…I was out of line.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s just that I love you so much. And when I see you heading for disaster—”

“Nikki,” I said firmly.

“Right. Okay, no more lectures. And I am sorry this happened to you. I might have had my doubts about him, but I really was hoping that Eli was the one.”

“So was I.”

“What have you told Rayna?”

“Nothing. I don’t know what to tell her.”

“The good thing is she’s young. She’ll bounce back from this in no time.”

“You think so?” I asked. “Because I’m so worried that she’s going to be scarred. One minute, she’s got a daddy. The next, he’s gone, and she won’t understand why.”

“She’ll be fine,” Nikki said. “Not that she won’t be upset at all, or confused, but this won’t have a lasting effect on her. She’ll grow up and not even remember Eli.”

Such a blunt statement, and yet a valid one. “I guess that’s a good thing,” I said. “Even if it doesn’t exactly sound like it.”

“I’m not trying to be crass. Just letting you know that she won’t be scarred emotionally because of this. And hopefully you’ll meet someone great who’ll become a fabulous daddy for her.”

“I can’t even think beyond the moment, much less consider the idea that I might meet someone else.”

“I know. I’m just saying—”

“I know what you’re saying. You’re actually trying to make me feel better.” Score one for Nikki.

A moment of silence passed. Then Nikki asked, “You had no clue he was stepping out on you?”

“You think I’d stay with him if I knew he was?” Nikki didn’t answer. “Honestly, that was the most shocking news I learned today, more so than finding out he was dead. Eli was always so romantic, so thoughtful, so great with Rayna…It’s so hard to believe that any of this has really happened.”

“It’s quite the salacious story. And that woman—she was quite the looker.”

Not what I needed to hear.

“The worst part,” I said, “is that we had a fight last night. It was a stupid fight, but he walked out on me. Maybe he met this woman at a bar and this was the first time he cheated. You know, because he was angry, and stupid. Obviously stupid. But I keep thinking, if I hadn’t gotten mad at him, maybe none of this would have happened, and he’d be here right now.”

Nikki was silent, and I could imagine her biting on her bottom lip to keep from speaking. No matter who I dated, she believed the guy was a no-good loser.

“It’s possible,” I told her. “Neither of us knows for sure.”

“Yeah, I guess,” she grudgingly agreed. “But however it happened, it doesn’t make this any easier. You’re living in a lavish penthouse. How are you gonna keep up the payments?”

“I was worried about that, too, but my boss pointed out that we must have had mortgage insurance when we bought the place. And if not that, then Eli must have had a will. I know you think I’m irresponsible when it comes to those kinds of things, and maybe I am, but wills and insurance aren’t things I pay attention to. Anyway,” I quickly said, “there’ll be a record of them somewhere. I’ll call the bank tomorrow and see if I can find some papers here regarding his lawyer.”

“That’s one less headache.”

“Yeah, thank God for insurance.”

“If you need to,” Nikki continued, “you can come over here for a while. Even if it’s just for a change of scenery.”

“Thank you,” I said, meaning it. The offer surprised me—and touched me. However, in my wildest dreams, I couldn’t imagine myself taking my sister up on that offer. I loved her, but I could handle her only in small doses. She had endless advice about my love life that I didn’t ask for and never appreciated. Not to mention her thoughts on how I could improve myself as a mother.

In my sister’s defense, she had become a surrogate mother to me after our parents had died in a boating accident when I was twelve. Seven years my senior, Nikki had naturally fallen into the role of caregiver, even though we’d moved from Detroit to Miami to live with our aunt Lola.

“Or even bring Rayna over for the weekend,” my sister continued. “You know I love having her.”

“That might be an idea,” I told her, but again had no intention of following through on that. Now more than ever, I wanted Rayna close to me. She was the one person who had the capacity to get me through the coming rough days.

“Oh, hello,” I heard Nikki say, and it took me a moment to figure out she wasn’t talking to me. “I didn’t realize you were going to be coming home this late.”

“Nikki?”

“Sorry. Morris just got home.”

“I’ll let you go then,” I told her, more than happy to get her off the line.

“Yeah, I’d better warm his dinner for him. He puts in such long hours, it’s the least I can do.”

There was a smugness in Nikki’s voice as she spoke—or was I just imagining it? Maybe I was, since I was supersensitive to the fact that I’d just lost my future husband and would never be making any meals for him again.

As I hung up, I thought about turning the television to CNN. I wanted to, but the idea of seeing pictures of Eli’s lover had me changing my mind. I couldn’t handle that. At least not yet. It was hard enough to deal with his death, much less his infidelity.

Still, I couldn’t help wondering if what I’d said to Nikki wasn’t true—that after our fight, Eli had ended up at a local South Beach hot spot, and then found his way into this woman’s bed.

It could have very easily been the first time he had cheated on me.

It would certainly be the last.

chapter six

I decided not to call the police after I spoke to my sister. Emotionally, I was drained, and needed a night’s rest before I dealt with that awful task. I was a little surprised that I hadn’t heard from them; it would be so much easier if they contacted me, as I didn’t have the first clue as to where to start.

I had enough to cope with heading to bed—the bed I had shared with Eli for three months in this apartment. The reality that he wouldn’t be joining me was too overwhelming to contemplate. It required me having a second glass of wine before I dared to get under the covers.

The stress of the day had clearly worn me out, because I fell asleep almost immediately. The sound of the ringing phone woke me up. Startled, I first glanced at the bedside clock and saw that it was 12:04. Then I rolled over toward the night table and checked out the illuminated call display.

PRIVATE NAME.

Falling back onto my pillows, I groaned loudly. Damn it! A friggin’ reporter! My God, did these people never give up?

After I’d hung up with my sister, there had been no calls at all, giving me the false confidence that the media had given up—or at least had gone home for the day.

No such luck, clearly.

A few minutes passed and sleep wouldn’t come to me, so I crawled out of bed and went to the window and peered outside. My building had only six floors, and even being on the top one, I had a good view of the street below. To my chagrin, I saw that there were still camera crews and vans parked out front. As if they expected me to leave the building and go out partying in the wake of my fiancé’s death.

“Morons,” I muttered.

I lay back down, trying once again to sleep, but failing. The bed was too big and Eli’s presence sorely missed. Damn those vultures for waking me up. Wasn’t there some movie star doing Ecstasy in a local club that they could go and harass?

The minutes ticked by. A quick look at the digital clock told me it was 12:48. Nearly one in the morning, and I was wide awake.

I needed to fall asleep again. Because, come morning, bright and early, Rayna would be up—and I needed to be rested to deal with her.

I forced myself out of bed and went to the kitchen. There, I opened another bottle of white zinfandel. I’d already had two glasses, but if I was ever going to fall asleep again, I needed another one.

Or two.

Or even three.

I opted for one. I might have wanted to drown my sorrows in alcohol, but I had a two-year-old in the next room who needed me sober and alert in the morning.

I curled up on the sofa, the first piece of furniture Eli and I had bought after putting the down payment on this place. The leather was amazingly soft and supple, the nicest I’d ever felt.

I could still smell Eli in the leather, could still remember how we’d enjoyed lying together on this sofa and watching a movie after Rayna went to bed.

It was irrational, but a huge part of me expected him to walk through the front door, a lazy smile on his face. I even kept glancing in that direction.

Waiting.

And waiting.

As I finished off the third glass of wine, it hit me anew that Eli would never walk through that door again.

I’d never share a bottle of wine over dinner with him.

Never watch him tickle Rayna as she climbed on his lap.

Never have a chance to find out what had sent him into another woman’s arms.

It was that last thought that was the hardest to deal with.

“It doesn’t matter why,” I told myself as I went back to the bedroom. “All that matters is that he did cheat on you. He doesn’t deserve your tears.”

But as I climbed back into the big empty bed, I couldn’t stop the tears from falling. I buried my face in the pillow and cried like a baby.

When the tears ended, anger took over. I gripped the pillow as if it were Eli’s neck and squeezed hard—like I wanted to break it with my bare hands.

My emotions spent and my breathing ragged, I finally sat on the edge of the bed and rested my toes on the cool floor. “Damn you, Eli. Damn you for destroying all our dreams.”

This time, when I lay back against the pillows, sleep claimed me quickly.

Something hard landed on my stomach with the force of a cannonball, immediately jarring me awake.

“Eli, what are you doing?” I asked, my eyes flying open. But instead of Eli, I saw Rayna.

And in that moment, I remembered.

Rayna’s smile was as bright as the morning sun as she beamed at me, pushing any sadness from my heart. “Hi, Mommy.”

Easily, I returned her smile. Oh, to have that childlike exuberance at simply greeting another day.

“Hi, baby.”

“Go Carwa?” Rayna asked.

I glanced at the digital clock on my bedside table. Seven-fourteen in the morning.

Normally, I’d be up and getting ready for work. But my head throbbed from fatigue and a hangover, and all I wanted to do was close my eyes and sleep for another couple hours.

I pulled Rayna close. “How about lying down with Mommy for a while?”

“It’s morning,” she replied, as if the idea of sleeping in was a crazy one. Then she wriggled free of my arms and eased her body off the bed.

So much for sleeping in.

Groaning, I forced myself to sit up. Coffee was the first order of business.

I trudged out to the kitchen. Rayna was dragging a chair from the table toward the fridge.

“No, no, no.” I hurried to her and lifted her into my arms. “Let me get what you need, okay?”