Mama Dearest (40 page)

Derrick walked to the table and pulled out a chair and said, “Have a seat, Yancey.”

I took the seat as I smiled at him and mouthed
thank you.

The hostess smiled at the two of us and informed us that the chef had prepared a special meal. All we needed to do was to let her know when we were ready for the first course.

Derrick and I sipped champagne and enjoyed the music. After a few moments of awkward silence Derrick grinned at me like a teenage boy and said, “I guess we’re on a date.”

“I guess so. It’s been a long time since we’ve been on one of those.”

“Do you remember our first one?” Derrick asked.

“I do.” I blushed.

“Where was it?”

“You took me to eat hot dogs at Ben’s Chilly Bowl in D.C.,” I said.

That brought a fond smile to his face. “Boy, I miss those hot dogs and that chili. I wonder if it’s still there.”

“I don’t know. I haven’t been to Washington in a long time,” I said.

“We had some good times there, didn’t we, Yancey?”

“Yeah, we did.” A picture of Derrick and me walking around the campus hand in hand popped into my head. When we first started dating, we spent every free moment together, even if it was in the library or the student union. We even took classes together, though we had entirely different majors. Derrick was majoring in Engineering and me in Theater Arts and Dance.

“That was a great time for me, Yancey. And I always hated the way it ended. Do you ever wish that we could go back to that? Be honest,” Derrick said.

I thought for a moment, back to that time at Howard University when I felt love for the first time in my life. It was a special time that ended tragically when I got pregnant and gave up my baby girl for
adoption. It was a painful time that I pretended never happened. I told myself if I wanted a career, having a baby wouldn’t allow that to happen. I wasn’t prepared to be a mother. Hell, I didn’t even know what a mother was. When I left Washington, I cried myself to sleep almost every night. I had given up the only person who ever loved me.

“I don’t know if I would go back to that time, Derrick. I wasn’t a good person then. I don’t even know if I’m one now or if it’s in my DNA.”

“I always thought you were a great person,” Derrick said.

“Why?”

“Because I saw through the shield.”

“What shield?”

“The one you used to protect yourself, Yancey. You just needed to be loved.”

“I felt you loved me,” I said softly.

“I did,” he said, and I felt just the same as I did when he told me he loved me decades ago. “Have you ever thought how ironic it is that Madison’s first big hit is ‘Blame It on the Sun’?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m the one who suggested to the producers at
American Star
that she sing it. I always remember that song as our song.” His face softened, and in that moment he almost seemed the same age as when I met him. “I remember one of the first times we stayed up all night in my dorm room, and you shared this really sad story about you growing up. Do you remember the story, Yancey? It was one of the first times I think you were really letting me see inside your soul.”

I didn’t answer Derrick. Instead I stared at the tiny bubbles in the champagne and thought back to that night when I shared my life with him. I told Derrick that when I was fifteen, I was getting ready for one of my first teen pageants, Jackson Junior Miss. One of my rich classmates and fellow contestants invited me to her house to spend the day and get ready for the pageant. We had spent hours sunbathing
at her pool. When I got home, I was greeted by a look of shock and disgust when Ava and my grandmother saw me. Ava screamed, asking me what I’d done. When I asked her what she was talking about, she screamed that I was too dark, and now I looked like all of the other nigger bitches in Jackson. I was always light brown, but on that day the sunbathing had changed my color at least three shades darker. I remember telling Derrick how Ava and my grandmother beat me as they told me how ugly I was now with darker skin. They forbade me from competing for Junior Miss. I ended the story by telling him how Ava said I never took responsibility for anything and that I was blaming the sun for my sudden change.

Weeks later, Derrick had brought me a recording of Stevie Wonder’s ballad “Blame It on the Sun,” telling me to listen to the beautiful song with the haunting yet comforting words anytime I thought about that night. “Just tell yourself that Stevie Wonder wrote this song with you in mind because you’re so beautiful and special,” Derrick said after I listened to the song for the first time.

“Do you remember the first line of the song?” Derrick asked.

I thought for a minute and then quietly said, “No.”

“It’s ‘where has my love gone.’ So the song became my feel-sorry-for-myself song when you left me and moved to New York.”

I was saddened by this revelation. “I never knew that. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You know us guys. We keep it all here,” Derrick said while lightly tapping his chest.

“I will listen to that song again.”

“Then listen to Madison’s version. It doesn’t make you sad. It makes me very happy.”

I joined in the pride he felt for her. “It went to number one, didn’t it?”

“On all three formats, pop, adult contemporary and R &B.”

“You must be so proud.”

“Every second of the day.”

The memory of that time of my life brought a blur of tears to my eyes. Derrick smiled a gentle smile that seemed to hide nothing, and I suddenly felt special again for the first time in years.

A
FTER A WONDERFUL DINNER
and great conversation, Derrick invited me back to his and Madison’s apartment. At first I declined, but after he assured me that Madison was away in Orlando for a Disney photo shoot and that he wasn’t looking for anything more than continued conversation, I agreed.

When I walked into the spacious apartment with a majestic nighttime view of the city, I couldn’t believe this was the boy I’d met at Howard University.

“Derrick, this is beautiful. What a view,” I said.

“I wish it wasn’t so cold or we could have a drink on the terrace,” Derrick said.

“I think I’ve had enough to drink.”

“Well, maybe if you come back, we can have some hot chocolate or something. Do you still like hot chocolate?”

“I do.”

“Let me take your coat. I have something I want to show you,” Derrick said with a sly smile.

I wasn’t sure what that meant, but I felt a flutter in my chest. “So, how long have you lived here?”

“For about three months. It’s just a furnished rental that Disney found for us. Madison had to stay here once she found out Michael Jackson once lived here while recording an album.”

“MJ stayed here? Wow.”

“Come on, let’s go in the media room.”

I followed Derrick down a dimly lit hallway into a room that had about six movie chairs and a popcorn popper and an old-fashioned soda machine. At the front of the room was a huge flat-screen television, one of the largest I’d ever seen.

“Where do you want me to sit?” I asked.

“Take the chair right in the middle. Would you like some popcorn? I make a pretty good bag if I do say so myself.”

“No, I’m fine. I’m still stuffed from dinner. Are we going to watch a movie?”

“Sort of,” Derrick said.

He went in what looked like a production room I’d seen in some of the studios I’d worked in. Minutes later, he came out with a remote control in his hand. He sat down in the chair next to me and clicked one of the buttons. On the screen popped a little girl running through a field of beautiful flowers of all different colors. She had two long pigtails with pink and blue ribbons, but her back was facing us. The deceased singer Minnie Ripperton’s “Loving You” was playing in the background.

“Who is that?” I asked.

Derrick looked at me with puppy-dog eyes and said, “It’s Madison. I made this for her high school graduation. Just sit back and watch.”

For the next few minutes I watched the screen as Madison grew up right before my eyes. One minute she was a precious little girl running through a field and playing with a dog that seemed to be enjoying his height advantage over what looked like an eight-year-old, with hair in a bun and a pink ballet tutu. There was Madison at a gym tumbling uncontrollably and giggling wildly as she tried to keep up with Derrick on a basketball court.

Madison singing in a youth choir at church and then being carried by Derrick when she had fallen asleep and Derrick whispered how she couldn’t last through an entire middle school football game.

When the Madison I knew appeared on screen singing and dancing with obvious skills, I lost it. Tears ran down my face and I leaped from the
chair and raced to the hallway. I leaned against the wall and cried tears of shame and disgust as my body shuddered all the way to the floor. The truth of what I’d done wrapped around me like a worn winter coat.

“Yancey, what’s the matter?” Derrick asked.

“Why did you do that?” I cried.

“Do what?”

“Show me that? Are you trying to pay me back for leaving you? For leaving Madison?”

“Yancey, why would you say that? Heavens, no. I just thought you might enjoy it. I had no idea it would cause this reaction. I’m sorry,” Derrick said as he knelt down and began wiping the tears from my face with his warm hands.

“She must hate me.” I wept.

“Madison doesn’t hate anyone, Yancey. Especially you. I just wanted to share a part of her that you didn’t know about,” Derrick said.

“The part where I deserted her.”

“Yancey, you thought you’d done the best for Madison by giving her up for adoption. You didn’t know that I’d changed all of that. But you must know how I loved you. It’s a different kind of love, but I simply gave all the love I had to give to our little girl.”

“She’s not my little girl. I gave that up. My ass was too selfish to be a mother.”

“Maybe you were scared and too young. But giving a child a chance at a better life is never selfish. You must know that.”

I thought about what I was about to say. Something I’d never said to anyone ever in life. Something that I knew was the truth and if anyone deserved to hear it then Derrick was the one.

“Can I tell you something, Derrick?”

“Sure, Yancey. Talk to me.”

“I think things would have been different for us if Madison had been a boy.”

“What do you mean?”

“When I got pregnant I use to pray that I would have a healthy baby and that the baby would be a boy. If Madison was a boy then I would have felt that God loved me and wanted me to keep the baby and be a mother and possibly a wife to you.”

“Why a boy, Yancey?”

“Because I was a girl born to a mother who hated me for that fact and I didn’t want that to happen to our child. When Madison came I figured God didn’t want me to be a mother. It was my answer. I just knew that I couldn’t be a mother to a girl.”

“Yancey, God sent us the child we were supposed to have. Trust me on that.”

“Then why didn’t I know that?” I asked as tears begin to stream down my face.

“We don’t always know everything, Yancey. Stop blaming yourself for that. You wanted Madison to be adopted and that can be the most unselfish form of love.”

I wouldn’t be comforted, no matter how nice it felt. “I need to wash my face. I’m going home.”

“Yancey, look at me,” Derrick said as he cupped my chin up toward his face.

“What?”

“Yancey, you’re not selfish. You gave me the best blessing in my life. I can never thank you enough for Madison. I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I would never hurt the mother of my child.”

He was being so sincere. What he didn’t understand was how I felt about giving her away. “I know, Derrick. I want to go home.”

“Okay,” he said, resigned. “Go into the powder room and wash your face. I will have the doorman get you a car.”

I got up from the floor and nodded toward Derrick. I was heading for the rest room when I heard Derrick call out my name. I turned to face him and he said, “I never stopped loving you. I hope you know that.”

This girl, and I use the term lightly, said she won’t leave until she speaks with you, Madison. She said it’s real important. But we can call the police if you like,” the studio security guard said.

“Where is my father, Joseph?”

“He’s not here. Normally I would just go to him or Thurston, but I can’t contact either one of them.”

Madison could tell that something was different. “You think it’s a fan?”

“It’s hard to say, Miss Madison. I can just as easy call the policeman.”

“No, I’ll talk to her if you stay with me. Let’s go to the conference room,” Madison said.

She followed Joseph down the long hallway into the conference room. He instructed her to sit at the table, and he’d go and get the lady and bring her back. Before leaving, he assured Madison that he wouldn’t leave her side.

A few minutes later, he walked in with an imposing young lady who looked scary and yet meek at the same time.

“Are you Madison?”

“Yes, I am. And you are?”