A Damaged Girl, page 12
“Is everything okay?” Zola said, assuming the look on his face was bad news about her son.
“Yes. Everything is fine. Jason is doing great,” Chad said.
“Kecia,” Zola said. “This is Chad Benjamin. He’s my son’s . . .” she said, not sure what to call the man.
“Nice to meet you, Chad,” Kecia said, reaching out her hand.
“It’s nice to meet you too,” Chad said with a pleasant smile as he shook Kecia’s hand.
“Well, I’ll let you guys talk,” Kecia said. “Zola, I’ll be back to check up on you tomorrow. I put my number on the pad by the phone, so call me if you need anything. I love you, girl.”
“I love you too. Be careful out there,” Zola said and waited for Kecia to leave.
“I will. Bye. Bye, Chad,” Kecia said as she hustled out the door.
Chad nodded to her and looked down at Zola with a concerned expression on his face.
“Have a seat. What’s up?” Zola said as she pointed at the chair by the window.
“What’s going on with you, Zola? Do you need anything?”
“What do you mean?”
“I was watching the news and—”
“I didn’t have anything to do with that,” Zola said. “That is my mother, and we weren’t the best of friends, but I would never do what those people are saying.”
“I believe you, but the problem is . . . well, I won’t beat around the bush. Jason saw it and he’s quite upset.”
“What?” Zola said as her heart hit the floor.
“I tried to keep him away from it, and I did for the six o’clock news, but somehow my wife found a way to let him see it on the seven o’clock broadcast. He’s torn up about it.”
Zola’s tears came back. “Oh, my God,” she cried. “I’m totally innocent. I don’t want Jason thinking his mother is a murderer. I didn’t do anything.”
Chad stood and walked over to her. He reached out and touched her hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. “I believe you,” he said. “Have you gotten an attorney?”
“Why did she let him see that?” Zola said, feeling her anger rise. She could strangle that woman for trying to poison her son’s mind with those shady police officers’ lies.
“I don’t know, but you can best believe that it caused a huge argument. I’m not sure what her motivation was behind that, but she was wrong,” Chad said. “I’m sorry that it happened.”
“I wanna talk to Jason,” Zola said.
Chad whipped out his cell phone and pushed a button. “Where is Jason?” he said, not bothering with a greeting. “Well, wake him up. Never mind where I am. Just go and get Jason. Carmen, I’m not getting into this with you. Now will you go and get Jason, or should I come home and get him myself?”
Chad sat down and looked at the floor while he waited. He frowned after being placed on hold for a little too long. “This woman,” he said, shaking his head.
Zola’s heart ached at the thought of her child seeing her picture being attached to the word “murder.” Her son’s opinion of her was the most important thing in the world. Over the last year she had been privately planning a strategy to get Jason back under her care, but now there was a sense of urgency like never before. She liked Chad, and she used to like his wife. At least, she did until she decided to poison her son’s mind against her. Now she knew it was time he came home. The Benjamins had taken care of Jason when she couldn’t, and she appreciated that. They had exposed him to people, places, and situations she could only dream about, but they couldn’t love him like she could. And now this latest stunt by Carmen was even more motivation to get her life together and prove to the world that she was somebody.
“She hung up,” Chad said, taking the phone away from his ear and looking at the screen saver. “I can’t believe she hung up. What is wrong with that woman?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Zola said with a steely determination. “I’ll take care of it.”
“I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” he said, standing. “I will have Jason call you once I get home. Keep your cell phone on.”
“He’ll have to call the room. I don’t have my cell phone with me. I’m not supposed to use it in here.”
“Will do,” Chad said, walking over and getting the number from the phone on the nightstand.
Chapter 15
Ian looked at his watch. It was almost one o’clock in the morning. Christian was fast asleep on the sofa. His father had already left, and he and Malcolm were sitting on the deck enjoying the night. They lit the fire to keep warm and played catch-up. Ian filled him in with how stagnant his life had been since he lost his wife and daughter, and Malcolm filled him in on his life out west.
“I guess I need to get out of here, man,” Ian said as he removed his feet from the patio ottoman. “I’m enjoying the scene too much. Gotta get back to the ghetto.”
“There were too many sacrifices made for you to be living in the ghetto,” Malcolm said. “I don’t want my nephew caught up in some hood crossfire. Then I’m really gonna cry.”
“Yeah,” Ian said as he turned down the heat on the firepit. “I’m way ahead of ya, li’l bro. That’s been on my mind heavy lately. Before we came over here, the natives were outside shooting.”
“Come on, Ian,” Malcolm said. “If not for yourself, do it for Christian.”
Ian nodded. “So when are you headed back to the West Coast?”
“I need to be back on Monday morning. I’m starting a new job at the University of Washington as a career counselor. We fly out Sunday night. I love flying at night, man.”
“Oh, yeah? You have a lovely family, bro. I’m proud of you. Got you an Asian woman, huh? She’s a gem. I like her.”
“Yeah, man. She plays that Asian shit, but her ass was raised in Tacoma, and she got some ghetto ways. Her Kool-Aid is sweeter than a mother. I think she puts about three cups of sugar in a gallon, bro. And she will cuss. Oh, Lord. She gets mad and starts mixing that Asian and hood talk together so much. It’s bad, bro. ‘You mudda fucka ass licky stupid dick basard,’” Malcolm said with a chuckle. “You don’t believe me? I’ma piss her off before we leave so you can hear how she acts.”
“Man,” Ian said, laughing, “you’re crazy. Leave Ming alone.”
“Leave Ming alone? She needs to leave me alone. You know I can’t beat her, right? Hell, I met her in a karate class. She was my instructor. But you know what I told her? ‘You gotta sleep sometime,’” Malcolm said with a straight face.
“Man, I am not messing with you. You are a complete nut,” Ian said as he placed the top on the firepit. “I gotta get this boy up so we can get out of here.”
“Ian, let him spend the night,” Malcolm pleaded. “I wanna spend some time with him. Maybe I can take him to the arcade or something in the morning. He’s been asking everybody if he could spend the night. The boy is tired of yo’ ass.”
Ian chuckled. “Let me talk to Andrea.”
“Whatchu think she gonna say, no?”
“Just being courteous, man,” Ian said.
Andrea was sitting in a chair across from the fireplace watching television. “Y’all finally decided to come in the house?” she asked.
“Yeah,” Ian said. “It’s about time we get out of here.”
“‘We’?” Malcolm said. “How about you just take your butt on and leave my nephew here?”
“Yeah, Ian. He wants to stay,” Andrea said. “Let him sleep.”
Ian walked over to Christian, who was snoring on the sofa. Ian gave his son a gentle nudge to wake him, and Christian looked up.
“Hi, Daddy,” he said, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “Can I spend the night?”
Ian sighed. “I guess so,” he said.
Christian smiled, but he was too tired to do much else, so he laid his head back down on the sofa and drifted back off to sleep.
This would be the first time Ian had ever spent a night without his child, but it wasn’t fair to keep treading on the path he had been on. Christian didn’t just belong to him. He belonged to his entire family.
The side door leading to the garage opened, and KJ walked in. “What’s up, Uncle Malcolm?” he said in his deep teenage voice a few seconds after walking into the living room.
“What’s up?” Malcolm said, looking at his watch. “That damn sun gonna be up in a minute. Where you been?”
“Next door,” KJ said, then turned his attention to Ian. “Ohhhh, snap. What’s up, Uncle Ian? I haven’t seen you in ages.”
“How you doing, KJ?” Ian said, walking over to give his nephew, who was almost six feet tall, a frat-brother-like hug. “I can’t believe how big you’ve gotten. Are you playing sports?”
“Football and baseball,” KJ said.
“When he’s not suspended from school,” Andrea said.
“Aww, Mom,” KJ complained with a frown. “I haven’t seen Uncle Ian in I don’t know how long, and you gotta start fussing. Don’t nobody wanna hear all that.”
KJ was the spitting image of his father with a little dose of Andrea thrown in around the lips and cheeks. He was as dark as a Hershey’s bar and had a head full of hair, which was twisted up into little dreadlocks.
“I’m glad I waited around, or I would’ve missed you,” Ian said.
“Yeah,” KJ said. “I was just two doors down at my friend’s house. Is that Christian over there?” he asked, walking over to his little cousin.
“Yep,” Ian said, “that’s him.”
“Boy, he’s getting big,” KJ said.
“Yeah,” Ian said, “and so are you. How tall are you?”
“I don’t know,” KJ said. “Five eleven, maybe six feet. Something like that.”
“I’m going to bed,” Malcolm said. He reached out to Ian and gave him his fifteenth hug of the night, and then he turned to KJ and punched him in the chest. “Whatcha gon’ do? Huh? Buck up? I’ll knock the taste outta ya mouth.”
KJ grabbed the spot where he was hit and smiled. “Uncle Malcolm is crazy.”
Even after all that he had heard about his nephew, Ian couldn’t help but be proud of the young man he was looking at. That was, until he took a closer look at KJ’s eyes.
“Are you about to leave?” KJ asked.
“Yeah, man,” Ian said, zeroing in on the bloodshot eyes, which was a sure sign of drugs. “I’ve been here for hours. I called your cell. Why didn’t you answer your phone?”
“It’s dead. I forgot to charge the thing last night.”
“Is that right? Well, listen to me, nephew. I need a favor, KJ.”
“Sure,” he said. “Anything for you, Uncle Ian.”
“I need you to help me move some things at my house. Why don’t you grab a change of clothes and ride with me?”
KJ paused. Ian could see that the boy knew something was up.
“I can ask my mom to bring me over in the morning. I’m a little tired,” KJ said in a futile attempt to stay home and out of his uncle’s tough glare.
Andrea cut in. “I’ll tell you right now the answer is no. You can go right now while you have a ride. And you can stay over there for all I care.”
KJ dropped his head.
Andrea leaned down and picked Christian up. “Ian, call me tomorrow. If you need me to pack up all his stuff, just say the word.”
“Andrea,” Ian said, shaking his head, “don’t do that.”
“I’m just fed up with this boy,” Andrea said. “I swear I am. He’s been screwing up time after time, and I’m just tired of it.”
“Well, you can be fed up, but keep it to yourself,” Ian said.
“See how she is? Always putting me down. If you don’t want me here, then I’ll leave,” KJ said.
“And go where?” Andrea said. “Your daddy doesn’t want you. He’s with who he wants to be with—a damn man.”
“Andrea,” Ian snapped at his sister. “What’s wrong with you? Have you lost your mind? Why would you say something like that?”
“Because it’s the damn truth. And every time I get on his case for being a screwup, he claims he’s going to leave. Well, leave, KJ. I don’t give a damn. As a matter of fact, get out.”
“Are you the parent or the child?” Ian snapped.
“Whatever. He can go live with his faggot father,” Andrea said as she huffed and puffed. After adjusting Christian on her hip, she walked out of the living room toward her bedroom.
“Uncle Ian,” KJ said, dropping his head in shame.
Ian could tell that Andrea’s words had hurt his nephew. “Hey,” Ian said, rubbing KJ’s shoulder, “you don’t have to own that. Don’t you dare drop your head because of what someone else did. I don’t care if it’s your mother or your father. Be your own man. If you ask me, your mother is dead wrong,” Ian said loud enough for his sister to hear him.
“Can you give me a few minutes to get my stuff together? I don’t wanna stay here with her no more. All she does is put me down and call me names. I’m not gay, and every time she gets mad, which is all the time, she calls me a name. I just wanna get out of here,” KJ said, not seeming to miss a beat from the times he used to share with his uncle when he was a small kid.
Ian nodded. “Yeah, man. Go ahead and get what you need. You can stay with me as long as you’d like.”
Chapter 16
Zola was feeling better. Her facial bruises were still visible, but the pain had subsided a great deal. Whatever they gave her for her aching ribs worked, because even they were feeling so much better than just two days ago. Her doctor had finally authorized her release, and she couldn’t be happier. Five days of drugs and medical attention had done wonders for her, but now it was time to get on with the rest of her life.
The police hadn’t come back, nor had she heard anything from them. Her attorney, Ms. Capers, was a no-nonsense type of woman, and she must have meant it when she said that they wouldn’t be bothering her again unless they had enough evidence to charge her with a crime. The mere fact that she had someone like Ms. Capers on the job allowed her to rest easier.
Now she was sitting in the prerelease area, waiting for Kecia to pick her up. While she waited, she couldn’t help but think of how close she had gotten with Kecia since this incident happened. Kecia had become the little sister she had always wanted but never had.
Before she could get too deep into her thoughts, her name was called, and one of the nurses who treated her while she was there brought out a wheelchair.
“Hospital policy,” the nurse said.
“I understand,” Zola said. “As long as I’m leaving here and can get in my own bed, you can push me out on a gurney.”
“I’m sure you’re happy to leave,” the nurse said as she wheeled her down the ramp to the parking area. “Good luck with everything.”
“Thanks,” Zola said.
“And I’m really sorry to hear about your mother,” the nurse said. “I try to mind my business, but when your sister came in and told me your mother had passed, well, I didn’t mind breaking the visitation rules for that. Mothers are special, and I’m really sorry to hear of your loss.”
Zola nodded and pretended to be grieving, but she was thinking, if you only knew my mother, you wouldn’t be singing that tune. “Thanks. I appreciate your condolences,” Zola said.
“My name is Mimi,” the nurse said. “I didn’t want to be all in your business while you were a patient—besides, that’s against hospital rules—but I lost my mother last year, and let me just say it’s been tough.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Mimi,” Zola said and couldn’t help but envy whatever relationship the nurse had with her mother that would make her tear up at the mere mention of her death.
“Your sister is a very sharp young lady,” Mimi said, pointing toward Kecia, who was running around the side of her Mini Cooper to open the passenger door.
“Yeah,” Zola said with a smile. “I think I’ll let her stick around.”
“I have a surprise for you,” Kecia said, smiling from ear to ear.
Before she could open the door, it opened on its own, and out stepped a little boy who was about four feet five inches tall and was wearing khaki pants and a maroon dress shirt beneath a navy blue blazer with a gold crescent on the breast pocket. The little boy smiled and ran toward Zola.
“Jason,” Zola screamed so loudly they could hear her inside the hospital.
“Hi, Mom,” he said with a wide smile.
“Oh, my God,” Zola said as she jumped up out of the wheelchair and ran to her son. She leaned down and hugged him so tight that her ribs started hurting again. “How are you? I missed you so much, little boy.”
“I missed you too,” Jason said with his proper diction. “I haven’t seen you in months. Are you okay?”
“I’m doing just fine,” Zola said as she reached down and hugged him again. “How is it that you have Jason?” Zola asked, turning to Kecia.
“Ask him,” she said with a frown.
Zola’s smile disappeared, and she looked down at her son. “Jason?” she said.
Jason dropped his head. “I ran away,” he said.
“You did what?” Zola said.
“I ran away. Carmen is mean,” he said. “She always talks bad about you. She’s not nice like she acts in front of you. She’s a faker, and I don’t want to live with her anymore.”
“How did you get him?” Zola asked Kecia.
“He called your cell phone. Here ya go,” Kecia said, reaching out to give the BlackBerry back to Zola. “He said he was at the bus stop, and I had to go get him. When I got there, he was just standing there alone. He’s smart for his age, but he’s still only six years old, so I wasn’t about to tell him to go back.”
“Yeah,” Zola said, “I understand. Jason, you have to know better than that. That was very dangerous. Anything could’ve happened to you.”
“But it didn’t, and I’m with you again,” he said with a child’s innocence.
Zola sighed and looked around as if someone were playing a cruel joke on her. “Okay,” she said, “but there are certain ways we have to do things, Jason. You can’t just . . . Never mind. Let’s go.”
