Single Mama's Got More Drama

I put the receiver to my ear and said, “Nikki?”

“What do you mean, I’m unbearable?” my sister asked, and now my eyebrows shot up.

“What?” I said, not at all understanding what was going on.

“Are you forgetting why we have to renew our vows in the first place?” she went on.

I got it then. She obviously wasn’t talking to me. “Hello? Nikki?”

Nikki groaned in frustration. “Vanessa, will you talk some sense into Morris?”

“Nikki, what’s going on?”

Nikki didn’t answer. I heard some shuffling sounds and the faint sound of gospel music. But I also heard the sounds of traffic, making me wonder if they were in the car. If so, the music had to be coming from the radio.

“Hello?” I said.

“Hello?” Morris’s voice.

“What’s going on, Morris?”

“Your sister and I can’t agree on this whole second wedding thing.”

“It’s not a thing,” my sister said in the background. “It’s about our reaffirming of our vows because you fucked up!”

“Nice post-church talk,” I muttered. The minister must not have reminded the parishioners to abstain from cursing, I thought wryly. Morris didn’t hear me, however, because he and Nikki were now bickering back and forth. I caught snippets of, “We’ve been through this,” and “So in your mind everything’s fine?”

I wondered if either of them would notice if I hung up the phone.

I didn’t. Instead, I said, “Morris? Are you still there?”

“Yeah.”

Rayna wandered into the living room and went straight for the box of crayons and pad of paper on the coffee table. One of her favorite things to do was draw pictures.

“I thought you were going to church,” I said.

“We did. But we…had a disagreement.”

“In church?”

“About the wedding,” Morris clarified.

How had they had time to discuss the wedding during the ceremony, much less get into a disagreement? “What exactly is the issue, Morris?”

“I don’t see why we can’t take a trip to Key West with our closest friends. That way, Nikki gets to have her wedding on the beach. And we both get to save a ton of money. She watched some show where a couple got married in Thailand, and suddenly she’s got it in her mind that that’s the only place in the world good enough to renew our vows.”

“You’re lucky I even want to marry you again!” Nikki spat out. “After what you did.”

“Where are the kids?” I asked.

“In the backseat,” Morris replied. “Watching a DVD.”

Good grief. “Put my sister back on the phone.”

After a couple seconds, Nikki came on the line, saying, “You see what I have to deal with? Not only does he cheat, now he’s got to make this difficult, too.”

“Nikki, I understand you’re upset,” I said in a calm voice. “But you have the boys in the car. This kind of fighting in front of them is…well, it’s crazy. You don’t want them all involved in grown folks’ business. Especially not this. Talk to Morris when you get home.”

Nikki didn’t say anything for a moment, which I took to be a good sign. Hopefully I was getting through to her.

“Be glad you’re not in a relationship,” she finally said. “Because men suck.”

“Right, they totally suck,” I said, feigning agreement. Rayna held up a picture with green and blue strokes, and I smiled encouragingly at her. “But please calm down until you get home. Don’t let planning your second wedding send you to divorce court.”

“Vanessa, I’m coming over.”

“What?”

“I can’t deal with Morris right now,” my sister said, her voice cracking. “I just need to be away from him for a while.”

“But I’m on my way out—”

“I’m gonna drop him off and head straight to your place.”

No, not this. Please, God. “Why don’t you call me back when you’ve gotten home?” I suggested. “Make sure the kids are fed or whatever, take a moment to calm down—”

Nikki started to cry.

“Nikki,” I said after several seconds. “Nikki?”

“Morris thinks I’m overreacting,” she sniffed. “Do you think I’m overreacting?”

I didn’t want to answer the question. I didn’t want to answer it truthfully, that is—not with my sister bawling on the other end of my phone line.

So I said, “You’re emotional. That’s understandable. But like I said, you have to calm down. If not for your sake, then for your kids. This can’t be good for them.”

“Okay,” Nikki said, and I heard her inhaling some deep breaths. “You’re right. Mommy’s sorry,” she said to the boys. “I’m just a little bit mad at your dad right now.”

Understatement of the century. “Call me when you get home,” I said. “We’ll talk some more.”

“We’re almost home, so I’ll drop Morris off, then head straight to your place.”

“You’ll what?”

“I really need you right now, Vanessa.” Nikki’s voice broke. “I really need my sister.”

“Yes, but, I made plans. How about later?”

The dial tone sounded in my ear.

Oh, for God’s sake. Had my sister heard me? Was she going to go home and stay there—or would she soon be on her way?

With any luck, Nikki’s spat with Morris would be resolved by the time she got home, and she’d call to tell me that she was no longer coming over.

I reached forward and pulled Rayna into my arms, frowning as I did. Nikki being Nikki, if she did come here and I wasn’t around, I wouldn’t hear the end of it.

“Let’s go zoo!” Rayna said.

Damn, this wasn’t fair. I had a fun day planned for my daughter, and now it was ruined. “Maybe we can go see the monkeys and all the animals another time,” I suggested. “Your cousins are coming over, so you can play with them.”

“Monkeys,” Rayna said, pouting. “Zebras.”

“I know. But, your Auntie Nikki is coming over. And she’s on her way right now, which means we can’t leave.” I kissed Rayna’s temple. “Next weekend, I promise.”

Rayna’s pout grew larger.

Beside me on the sofa were two of her ponies, her favorite toys to play with. I lifted both and gave her one. “How about we play ponies? Is this one Rainbow Dash?” I asked as I held up the green one, knowing full well that this one’s name was not Rainbow Dash.

“No,” Rayna admonished with a smile, happy to be able to correct me. “That’s Minty.”

“That’s right. Green tea.”

“No! Minty.”

“Ohh. Minty.”

“Yes, Minty.”

“Rayna, do you want to play with me?” I asked in a high-pitched voice, prancing Minty around.

Rayna giggled, then began playing with her own pony. We played together for several minutes before I remembered Carla.

“Just a minute, sweetie. Mommy has to make a call.”

I lifted the receiver from beside me on the sofa and punched in the digits to Carla’s number.

“I’m sorry, Carla,” I said after I filled her in. “But you know my sister. And I can live without the headache of her freaking out when she comes over and finds I’m not here.”

“I understand,” Carla said.

“Next weekend?”

“It’s a date.”

I brewed a fresh pot of coffee, figuring I’d need the extra caffeine if I was going to have to spend the next several hours drowning in a sea of my sister’s issues.

Not something I relished, considering I had enough problems of my own.

I waited.

And waited.

Nikki didn’t show.

3

By the next morning, I still hadn’t heard from my sister—but I also hadn’t heard from the police with any bad news. I was pissed that she’d had so little regard for my time that she didn’t have the decency to call and say she wasn’t coming over.

I wondered if she’d even given me a second thought. If she’d considered, even for a moment, that she’d done anything wrong.

But I soon stopped thinking about Nikki when I got to work and saw the temp receptionist behind the desk in the entrance to the office. She had frizzy red hair and a face full of freckles, and looked nothing like the woman she was filling in for. Though the temp had been there for the past two weeks, it still caught me off guard to see her sitting behind the broad desk.

Still made me feel a moment of sadness and anger that she had to be there at all.

Alaina Rivera, my good friend and the agency’s regular receptionist, was home recovering after a vicious attack by her jealous and out-of-control ex-husband. She’d been banged up pretty good, had spent a week in hospital, and God only knew how much longer she would be off of work due to her injuries.

I pushed aside my feelings about Alaina and smiled at the temp as I strode past the reception desk. “Good morning, Nora.”

“Good morning.”

I was almost fully out of the foyer when I heard her ask tentatively, “Um, Ms. Cain?”

I halted, turned back. “Yes, Nora?”

“There was a call for you about ten minutes ago. From a Bradley Harris? He’s from—”

“Harris, Lawton and Stein. Yes, I know.”

“Oh. Well, he said that you two have been playing phone tag and it’s crucial that you call him back today.”

Bradley and I had not been playing phone tag. I’d been avoiding him after his phone call a week and a half earlier, when he’d told me that Tassie no longer wanted me to buy out Eli’s share of my condo—she wanted me out, period.

The way I saw it, I didn’t have much to say to Bradley Harris on the matter, because I wasn’t planning on moving.

Nora extended a sheet of paper to me. “He, uh, left numbers where you can reach him.”

“Thank you.” I walked back to the reception desk, where I took the slip of paper from Nora, though I didn’t have any intention of calling Bradley back.

I mean, what was the point? We didn’t see eye to eye on this issue, and likely never would. I figured if I avoided him long enough, Tassie would give up on her demand and they’d disappear from my life forever.

A girl can hope, can’t she?

I continued on to my office, where I crumpled the note with the lawyer’s phone numbers and tossed it in the trash.

I didn’t want to call him. I’d played nice, danced around like a puppet as Tassie pulled the strings and got a good laugh out of making my life hell. Trying to “come up with a solution,” as the lawyer had suggested, had resulted in Tassie changing her mind. So really, could my plan to ignore her and her lawyer put me in a worse position than I already was in?

Though I’d had that nightmare about being forced out of my home, I didn’t believe for a second that was going to happen.

I settled in behind my desk and booted my computer up. It was a Monday morning, and I needed to get schedules in order and start on the mid-month payroll. Agent expenses had to be calculated. There was a lot to do, and calling Bradley Harris simply wasn’t on my list.

But first, I allowed myself to think about the one person I knew I was better off forgetting.

I opened my drawer and withdrew the framed photo of me and Chaz. We’d taken the photo when he’d come to Miami to visit me and explore the possibility of signing with the agency I worked for. Believe The Dream, Change Your Life was an agency that represented motivational speakers and life coaches. Chaz was one of the hottest names in the business, and he worked alone. Had I been able to sign him to my agency, I would have had my shot at becoming an agent, which was my ultimate goal.

It had almost happened. But a little white lie I’d told Chaz had come back to haunt me. Chaz had dumped me because of that lie, and as a result, had walked away from the opportunity to work with me.

Chaz had always said that the one thing he couldn’t deal with was dishonesty. I’d learned how serious he was the hard way.

In the picture, Chaz was smiling widely, a spark in his eyes. I was smiling just as happily, a woman who’d finally found the man of her dreams.

How could Chaz and I have gone from this happy moment to utter despair? As long as I lived, I would never forget the look of utter disappointment on Chaz’s face when Byron, my daughter’s father, had shown up in the restaurant that day. Having told Chaz that Rayna’s father was dead, Byron’s appearance—and theatrics over possibly losing his daughter—had been a double shock.

Why hadn’t I told Chaz that Rayna’s father indeed was still alive, but a total deadbeat dad?

My phone rang, startling me out of my thoughts. I jumped in fright, then reached for my phone.

“Vanessa Cain.”

“Hello, Vanessa.” A woman’s voice.

“Yes?”

“My name is Charlie Mann. I’m with Real Life Pictures in Hollywood.”

I sat up straight, wary. “Yes.”

“I heard all about your ordeal with Eli Johnson, and I’d love the opportunity to speak to you about the option of buying your story.”

“Buying my story?”

“I’d like to make it into a movie of the week.”

I frowned into the receiver, wondering if the person on the other end of my line was playing some sort of a joke on me. “Are you…is this a friend of Tassie’s?”

“You mean Tassie Johnson, the wife Eli never told you about?”

The woman sounded almost gleefully excited as she relayed the facts I had wanted to put behind me. Like someone sharing a piece of gossip.

No, she wasn’t a friend of Tassie’s.

“This is for real?” I asked.

“Absolutely. And your story has the right amount of sex, deception, twists and turns that would make a fantastic movie. The secret wife and kids, being murdered in his lover’s bed. The whole ‘celebrity behaving badly’ angle is a huge sell.”

“Right,” I said absently, the woman’s retelling of what had happened in my life making my stomach twist.

“Of course, you’ll be paid,” Charlie went on.

“Oh?” I rolled my chair forward and rested my elbows on the desk. “How much?”

“The exact amount will have to be negotiated, but it would be…significant.”

Possibly thousands of dollars, just for sharing my story with America. A story they already knew, quite frankly, so it wasn’t as if I would be airing my dirty laundry.

Of course, a movie would get into much more detail, like how I’d met Eli, our courtship, his life with Tassie.

My life with Rayna.

“When can we meet, Vanessa? I’d be happy to fly you to L. A.”

“You know what, I’m not interested.”

“I think we should meet face-to-face, and you can hear my ideas.”

“I really am not interested,” I reaffirmed. “I think the story has been exploited enough, and I didn’t exactly come out of it smelling like roses. Then there’s my daughter…”

“I promise you, we’ll handle the story sensitively.”

“Short of when my parents died, what happened with Eli was the worst time of my life. I have no desire to revisit that tragic time.” Not even if the money sounded appealing. “I’m sorry, but that’s my final decision.”

“If you change your mind—”

“I won’t. Thank you for the call, though.”

I replaced the receiver, then exhaled sharply. A producer wanted to make a movie out of my life?

Unbelievable.

When my phone rang again, I assumed it was the producer calling back, and I debated not answering it. But there was one thing I couldn’t do as the agency’s office manager—ignore my phone.

I picked up the receiver and put it to my ear. “Vanessa Cain.”

“Hey, girl.”

“Alaina,” I said, feeling immediate relief. “How are you?”

“Better. I’m feeling a lot better than yesterday.”

“Oh, I’m so glad to hear that.”

“I figure I’ll be back to work in no time.”

“Of course you will. You’re a fighter.” I said the words not only to support Alaina, but also because I believed them. In the face of a horrific assault, she was finding the courage not just to go on, but to not let what her ex-husband had done bring her down emotionally.

“So, any office gossip?” Alaina asked. “I’m going through serious gossip withdrawal.”

“Not really,” I said. “Well, that’s not true. You’ll never believe who just called me.”

“Chaz?” Alaina asked excitedly.

“No. Not Chaz.” Hearing and saying his name, I felt a pain grip my heart.

“Tassie?”

“No, not Tassie.”

“Then who?”

“A Hollywood producer,” I said, enunciating my words. “Would you believe she wants to make a TV movie about my story? My relationship with Eli, how he was killed, the fact that he had a secret wife and kids. All the drama that made my life total hell.”

“Oh, my God! How much are they going to pay you?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I didn’t stay on the phone long enough to ask.”

“What? Tell me you did not just say what I think you said.”

“You heard me.”

“Are you crazy?” Alaina asked. “You turned the producer down?”

“I just said that all that drama made my life total hell. I don’t want to relive that.”

“But you could probably get rich! And then you wouldn’t have to marry Lewis, because you’d have the money to buy Tassie off yourself. It’d be a nice way to profit from something so horrible.”

“And all I have to do is let them exploit me,” I said in a fake-cheery voice. “It’s not like I haven’t had enough stress because of the media covering the story to last me a lifetime.”

“I guess I can see your point. But still…”

“No buts. If I do this, I’m not only letting myself be exploited, I’m letting my daughter be exploited. And I’ve got to protect Rayna at all costs.”

There was a soft sigh on the other end of the line. “I didn’t think about that. Still, it’s pretty cool that a producer wants to make a movie about your life, even if it’s not going to happen.”

“I guess,” I agreed noncommittally.

“So what’s going on with Debbie?” Alaina asked, referring to the ownership of the agency. “Is she still screwing Jason?”

“Actually, I’m not sure about that. She hasn’t mentioned him, so maybe that’s a good sign. I hope it means she’s decided to stop her affair and concentrate on her family.”

“You never know with Debbie.” Debbie and I had been friends since I’d started working for her, but we didn’t see eye to eye about her affair.

“This is true. Other than that, nothing much new here. Other than we all miss you and can’t wait for you to return.”

“I’m hoping next week. The doc says my ribs should be healed by then.” Alaina paused. “But enough about me. How’s Lewis?”

At the mention of his name, my stomach tightened. Not exactly the appropriate reaction, considering he was my fiancé.

“He’s all right. I guess.”

“You guess?” Alaina asked. “Haven’t you spoken to him?”

“We’ve talked.”

“When was the last time?” Alaina asked, her tone saying she didn’t believe me.

“A couple days ago.”

“Mmm-hmm. Are you avoiding your fiancé?”

“No.” And I didn’t like the way Alaina had said fiancé— as though she were mocking me.

“When are you gonna tell him?” she asked.

“Tell him what?”

“That you don’t want to marry him.”

“I—” I stopped abruptly, unsure what to say. I had accepted Lewis’s engagement ring, which had been part and parcel of his offer to help me come up with enough cash to get Tassie off of my back.

Lewis’s proposal had trapped me between a rock and a hard place. I wanted—no, needed—his help. But I didn’t quite know how to ask for his financial help and turn down his proposal. I’d loved Lewis once, but he had been a total player. I couldn’t have been more surprised when he told me he’d help me with my Tassie problem—and then had proposed.

According to Lewis, he knew now that he loved me and that I was the only woman for him. He was done with his cheating ways and wanted to make a life with me.

“Vanessa?”

“Oh, sorry. What did you say?”

“I’ll take that as a no,” Alaina said.

“Ally, you know I love talking to you, but I’ve got a ton of work on my desk.”

“You can’t avoid this issue forever. Pretty soon, Lewis is going to start talking about setting a wedding date, and if you don’t love him, don’t want to be with him, you have to tell him. You can’t marry him just because he’s got the financial means for you to fight Tassie.”

“I’ll talk to you later, Ally.”

“All right, girl. But think about what I said.”

Think about it? I could do nothing but.

Like Alaina had said, Lewis was the only one who could help me fight Tassie. And I certainly didn’t want to seem as though I would use him only for his cash. How could I turn down Lewis’s proposal? Especially since he claimed to love me?

I stared at the photo of me and Chaz again, then put it back in the desk drawer. It was after Alaina had been attacked by her ex that I’d gotten a new perspective. That maybe passionate love was overrated. Passionate love led to seriously painful heartache.

The kind I was suffering now.

I’d come to the realization that it was probably far better to have a marriage based on friendship and respect. Sexual chemistry—like what Lewis and I had once shared—was a bonus.

Not that there was any sexual chemistry right now. Try as I might to convince myself of the non-passionate-marriage argument, I was still grieving over Chaz, and until I’d gotten over him, I knew I couldn’t share my body with Lewis.

But perhaps some time soon…

Even as I tried to convince myself of that, my mind wandered to the photo of me and Chaz, and that happy time we had shared.

And I knew in my heart that I wanted that back.

Wanted him back.

4

I put Chaz out of my mind and concentrated on work. It was the only way. Actually, it was the best way. Focusing on work made me forget about the grief I was feeling in my heart.

At least temporarily.

There was still no call from my sister, but I took her lack of contact as good news. Trust me, if she had been planning to see a divorce lawyer, she would have called and made me join her.

Thank God she hadn’t. I didn’t need her drama on top of my own. Already, I’d missed out on taking Rayna to the zoo because of Nikki.

I glanced at the wall clock. It was almost three-thirty. I would try to leave a little early today, head home, get Rayna, then take her to the lake so we could feed the ducks. There was a spot in Coconut Grove we’d been a few times, and it was always a fun experience.

My daughter needed fun right now. We both did.

And she needed to know that even if the man she’d known as her father wasn’t coming back, I would always be there for her.

I got up, stretched my body, then strolled to the window. As was typical every day during the summer months in South Florida, we’d have an afternoon downpour. I welcomed the short showers as they cooled things down. The sun always returned after the rain, and right now, it was shining brightly on downtown Miami.

My phone rang. I turned around and took three long strides back to my desk and snatched up the receiver before the phone could ring a third time.

“Vanessa Cain.”

“Ms. Cain. Hello.”

I swallowed.

“This is Bradley Harris.”

The man didn’t have to identify himself for me to know that it was the lawyer I’d come to dread hearing from. “Yes. I recognized your voice.”

“I called this morning, but I haven’t heard back from you.”

“Really?” I asked, feigning surprise as I rolled my eyes. “You know, we have a temp receptionist right now. She must have forgotten to give me the message.”

“That must be it,” Bradley said, but I could tell by his tone that he didn’t believe me.

“How can I help you?” I asked brightly.

“I’m calling to see if we can arrange a meeting to discuss the transfer of the condo to my client.”

The condo. Not “your condo.” As if I had no ownership of it whatsoever.

“You want a meeting,” I repeated.

“Yes.”

“You know, I’ve got a very busy schedule. Maybe we can arrange something in a few months.”

“Ms. Cain, I know what you’re doing.” The lawyer sounded a little exasperated. “You think that if you put this meeting off, the problem will simply go away. I assure you, it will not.”