White Lines III (3 page)

Jada sipped her water again and swallowed hard. She fought the urge to smile at the memory of stealing Jamari's re-up and exiting his life for good. Revenge had been sweet. Still, she couldn't tell Sheldon the truth—she had stolen his father's crack, sold it, and binged. She had to find a way to cushion the truth.

“When you were born, and I had made up my mind that it was time to get clean … I started seeing things differently. Once I was out of the fog, I realized that Jamari had manipulated the whole situation. I felt like he used me to make Born jealous. So I ended our relationship, and I focused on doing everything I could to be a good mother for you.”

Jada sat back in her chair and looked into Sheldon's eyes. She had given him the abridged version, but it was the truth nonetheless. She prayed that Sheldon would stop seeing her as his enemy.

“Sheldon … I love you,” she said, sincerely. “I've loved you from the first moment I laid eyes on you. I
fought
for you. When you were born, your father was mad at me. He was angry because I had been selfish, and he had every right to feel the way that he did. But I was sorry, and I had made up my mind to stop using drugs. He didn't believe me. He hated me. And to be honest with you, I hated myself. I felt like dying.”

Sheldon watched his mother closely, saw the tears that welled up in her eyes. He heard the emotion in her voice and he believed her. He realized, maybe for the first time, how sorry Jada was—how much she cared for him.

“But then Sunny would bring me pictures of you. Every time I saw those pictures, I felt stronger, more determined to fight for the right to be your mom. When I got out of jail, I was in court just about every week to get visitation rights and trying to get custody. You were the only thing I had to live for anymore. Your father did everything he could to keep me from seeing you. But the judge slowly made it possible for you and I to build a relationship. And then your father was killed.” Jada said that last part flatly. She felt no remorse that she and Sunny had left Jamari to die alone in that parking lot in the dead of winter.

“Once he wasn't around to fight me anymore, I was finally able to be your mom.”

Sheldon stared at his hands, letting it all sink in. He wondered how his life would be different if his father hadn't been killed. He knew that Jamari had loved him. Somehow, he had always known that in his heart. But now Jada had confirmed it for him. His father had loved him so much that he had fought to keep his drug-addicted mother out of his life. Sheldon watched Jada wiping the tears from her eyes. He replayed her words in his mind.

“Sheldon, I love you.”

He looked at his mother, thought to himself about how pretty she was. She wasn't a terrible person. He had seen some of his classmates' mothers, so he knew that horrible parents existed. The kind who talked loud and cussed all the time. The ones who wore scarves on their head in public, and barked orders at their kids. Jada was nothing like that. Whatever she had been in the past was far behind her now. He decided that maybe it was time to forgive Jada. Clearly, she was sorry and had already paid dearly for her transgressions. Sheldon would turn over a new leaf with his mother. But Born was a different story.

“Why did you name me Sheldon Marquis? Why don't I have my father's name instead of Born's?”

Jada's eyes narrowed.
What an odd question!
she thought. After all of what she had just told him, after hearing how determined Jamari had been to keep her away from her child, after hearing about his jealousy towards Born … all Sheldon had to ask was what had inspired his name?

“I named you after the two men who had been most important in my life. My father and Born.”

“Did you wish that Born was my father?”

Jada hesitated before answering. “I did,” she admitted.

Silence engulfed them again.

Finally, Sheldon spoke. “I bet my dad didn't like my name.” He toyed with his napkin.

Jada didn't know how to respond, so she said nothing; instead, allowing his words to float unanswered.

“Thank you for telling me the truth,” Sheldon said softly. “You coulda lied about a lot of stuff. But you didn't. I'm glad that I know the whole story now.” He set down his napkin, pushed his chair away from the table, stood up, and looked his mother in the eye.

“I love you, too,” he said.

And, with that, he walked out and went upstairs to his room.

Jada sat there alone, wondering if she should get her hopes up. She couldn't help but pray that this signaled a light at the end of what had been a very long and dark tunnel. Only time would tell.

 

2

BIG DREAMS

“Go, DJ!” the crowd yelled. Glasses clinked, congratulations abounded, and the music resumed its pulsing beat through the speakers. DJ was all smiles as people crowded around him to offer their well wishes and praise for his latest CD—one that was sure to be labeled a classic in years to come. Tonight's event was in DJ's honor, a party to celebrate his album debuting at number one on the Billboard charts. His career was at an all-time high, and Born looked like a proud father as he watched DJ soaking up all the accolades. Not one to get easily emotional, Born felt himself getting choked up and, quickly, covertly wiped a tear from his eye.

“I saw that,” Dominique said, smiling at Born as she appeared at his side. “Don't try to hide it. It's okay to get choked up seeing your boy succeed the way that he is.” She clinked glasses with Born and watched a shy smile creep across his sexy lips.

“I was just thinking about his father,” Born explained. “I wish Dorian was alive to see this. He'd be so proud of his son.”

Dominique nodded. “I know the feeling. Whenever I reach a milestone in my career, I wish my dad was still around to witness it. But I believe that he looks down on me and sees the strides I'm making. I'm sure the same is true for DJ's father. He
must
have a guardian angel watching over him, because the first-week sales he's gotten are unbelievable in this day and age. Almost a million records sold in an industry that is struggling.… I'd say that's divine intervention mixed with some incredible talent. This young man is at the top of his game!”

Born agreed. “The kid is good.”

A photographer approached the pair, and gestured for the two of them to stand closer together for a picture. Born held Dominique around the waist and drew her closer to him. Dominique felt a chill up her spine. The two of them smiled brightly as the camera flashed. The photographer thanked them and walked off to capture other partygoers.

Dominique wasn't sure if it was the wine or Born's close proximity that had her feeling lightheaded. She noticed that he still held her waist even though the moment had passed.

The deejay was excellent, and the dance floor was so packed that the floor beneath them shook from all of the movement. Born was feeling good. “Wanna dance?” he asked.

Dominique beamed. “Sure.”

They set down their glasses on a nearby table and headed to the dance floor to join the crowd. As they danced, Dominique laughed as Born did “The Wop,” a throwback to their heyday. She pop-locked to show him that she had some old-school moves in her arsenal as well. Born cracked up and they moved together happily, enjoying themselves for several more songs.

DJ watched from across the room where he was surrounded by a group of friends and fellow entertainers. He smiled, happy to see Born enjoying himself. It was the first time he'd seen him laugh in weeks, since Jada had pushed him away. DJ knew that Born was hurt by it, but he had put on a brave face and helped promote DJ's newest release full time.

DJ had mixed feelings about Jada. On one hand, it was clear to him that she made Born happy. Never was his smile as broad or his laughter as hearty as when Jada was near. Born came alive in her presence. Even a stranger could observe them for mere minutes and surmise that they shared a long history together, one full of private jokes, happy memories, and fun. The love between the two of them was unmistakable. Jada had always been kind to DJ, especially after his father was killed and Born became a constant presence in the young man's life. Once DJ expressed an interest in rapping as opposed to the street life his uncles were grooming him for, Born had become like a father to him. Finding the right beats for DJ to rhyme to, accompanying him to studio sessions that lasted all night, eventually tours that took them to the far reaches of the world—Born had been there through it all from the very start. Whenever things seemed grim or challenging, Born reminded the young man that anything worth having is worth fighting for. He gave him advice about girls, taught him how to make his money work for him, showed him the ropes of grown-man games like chess. Born was the closest thing to a dad that DJ had known since Dorian's demise. And, eventually, once Jada and Born reunited, DJ had grown close to her, too.

But this situation with Sheldon had changed everything. All of a sudden, Sheldon seemed to be in control of everything, and it was clear to everybody that he wasn't feeling Born and Jada's relationship. So for weeks Jada had kept Born at bay. For weeks, Born had been walking around nursing a broken heart while doing his best to keep his poker face on. DJ didn't appreciate the pain his father figure was enduring. And he wasn't sure if he was pissed at Jada about it or if Sheldon alone was to blame.

Tonight, though, Born was having a good time. And so was Dominique. DJ had always taken note of her beauty, her swag. She seemed like the kind of lady who could make Born forget about Jada.

For tonight, at least, DJ hoped that was exactly what Born would do. From across the room, he caught Born's eye. They raised their glasses in a silent toast, and partied the night away.

*   *   *

Olivia was in a late meeting with buyers for Vintage, her clothing line. In a conference room on the top floor of the Solomon Bryan building, she sold them on the luxe fabrics and cutting-edge designs set before them. Solomon Bryan was a media conglomerate that was fast becoming known as “the black Condé Nast.” They published just about every major magazine that appealed to the black and Latino demographic, which was quickly growing. Tonight's meeting was being held in the mega-company's flagship building in the fashion district, in office space that the buyers leased. Being in such close proximity to fashion's elite was a reality not lost on Olivia. These buyers worked for reputable department stores, major stylists, boutiques, and clothiers. This long running meeting was one of the most important of her career, and Olivia knew it. She had dressed the part today, wearing a Vintage electric-blue jumpsuit with a pair of nude Jimmy Choos and subtle jewelry. The look had been edgy and fashion-forward by day. But their meeting had gone on far longer than she planned, and at this late hour she was beginning to wish that she had opted for something that translated better from day to evening. In fact, she had spent so much of the past four hours second-guessing everything from the fabrics she had chosen to use for her line to the color palette she had chosen to present for the buyers today. She was high off a mixture of adrenaline and angst.

Her cell phone buzzed, and a crazy international number displayed on her caller ID. She sent it to voice mail, unaware that it was Sunny calling. She turned off her phone and tossed it into her Bottega Veneta bag. Whirling around to face the buyers, she flashed them her most alluring smile.

“So, guys, is it a yes?”

*   *   *

Malcolm stifled a yawn and glanced at his watch. He had sent his secretary home hours ago, and now it was so late that even the associates and paralegals had gone home for the night. It was nearly nine o'clock, and he had been working since seven o'clock that morning. In an effort to get Sunny off his mind, he had worked the whole day as if his life depended on it. It was the only way to distract himself from the feelings of self-loathing that crept up on him whenever he was idle. He had left her, the woman he loved, in Mexico with no one to help her. He felt terrible, having allowed his fear to take over. While he had been there in Mexico, being questioned mercilessly and threatened with jail time, all he had been able to think about was his career; how he could lose everything because of Sunny's crazy ass. She had deceived him into thinking that she was clean. But the truth was that even as they vacationed—a trip that Malcolm had imagined as a precursor to the honeymoon he imagined they would enjoy someday—Sunny had been getting high the whole time. Now there was a dead man on the side of some Mexican dirt road, and Sunny was under arrest for cocaine possession. He had gotten the hell out of there as fast as he could.

But now guilt had set in. Malcolm couldn't face himself. It didn't help that she had called the office three times that day for assistance—surely desperate for answers—as she faced the music all alone in Mexico. He hadn't answered any of the calls from the international number, knowing that an angry Sunny was on the other end. Malcolm felt torn. Part of him believed that whatever happened to her would be justified. After all, she had killed a man. She had been buying and using cocaine while he had been oblivious. She had lied to him. She deserved to pay for those things. But, the other part felt horrible for abandoning her. He loved her. And instead of sticking around to help her, he had fled as soon as they said that he was free to leave.

He had turned off his cell phone hours ago, after Sunny's third call. He glanced at it now, made up his mind that tomorrow he would change the number. He stuck it in the top drawer of his desk, turned off the desktop lamp, and pushed back his chair. He stood up, stretched, and willed himself to think of anything but her. Malcolm grabbed his briefcase, and headed home for the night, telling himself that he had done the only thing he could. He had saved himself.