My Mail Order Wife (The Value of a Man Book 1) (4 page)

Douglas Brown was a precocious five-year-old child who often seemed too smart for his own good.  The teachers at Compton Primary Care School had already spoken to his Aunt slash mother TataLavisha about skipping him ahead at least two grades in the fall.  He was smart, bright, and attention seeking.  Unfortunately for the young man, a local gang rewarded the attention he sought.

The boy’s mother, a former member of the same gang, was killed when the child was merely two years old.  His father, also a member of the gang, was serving 8-10 for felony possession and scheduled to get out in a year or less. As far as gang members went, they believed in protecting their own, but also believed in training and recruitment.  No child was too small.

Babies were used to smuggle drugs in their diapers. Toddlers were used to carry small materials to cars that stopped on the corners to purchase wares.  Five-year-olds who were smart could do a great deal more.  They were after Douglas.

TaeTay came home to find Spyder, a lieutenant in the gang, speaking with Douglas on her front porch after he came home from school. “Get off my front porch Spyder, before I crush you under my heel!”

The ugly man said nothing to her, but reached under his shirt to reveal the weapon protruding from the waistline of his pants as he held and massaged his genitals with one hand, the gun with the other. “Careful how you talk to me, you don’t want to get got!”

“Neither one of those small weapons are any threat to me.  The only thing you will succeed in doing with either of those is ticking me off,” she told him with far more confidence than she felt.

“You are too uppity for your own good.  A chick like you would be lucky to score with a man like me.  I could take care of you both, give you a good life,” he said as he licked his lips, leaving a snail-like trail of shiny saliva.

She shook her head at him as she ushered her nephew into the house.  TaeTay wanted to be careful how she handled him, “Spyder, if I wasn’t already seeing someone that just may tempt me, but I am okay.  I am truly flattered, but I don’t want
your
life for Douglas.  I want him to live a different life than his parents.  Can you help me do that for him?”

“What you gonna do for me?”  He rubbed himself again.

“I’m not that kind of woman.  I’m sorry.  I just thought you cared about me and the boy,” she said in a lowered tone.

“Didn’t nobody ever give a shit about me but my gang brothers.  That is what I am offering you and the boy,” he said with a great deal of pride.

Everyone had to aspire to something.  Spyder aspired to leadership and a good woman at his side, but he too needed to wait for someone to die so he could become relevant. Poor Douglas was also a victim of the same mentally.  He had become relevant to the gang, because little did TaeTay know, the boy’s father had died that morning in prison. Spyder knew, which is why he was weaving a preemptive web to see what he could catch.

Their conversation was halted by the arrival of the FedEx truck with a flat envelope for her. She used it as her excuse to get away from the hairy arachnid on her front porch. It didn’t matter if he left today; he would be back. Infestations never truly go away. TaeTay only wished that when he returned, she and Douglas could be long gone.

“What you got there, baby?  Somebody serving you papers?”  Her mother asked suspiciously.

TaeTay wasn’t sure what it was, but she tore it open slowly to first spot the money order. There was no name on it but hers.
What is this
?  She opened the letter and with each sentence she read, she backed up a step more to the couch.  When she got halfway through it, she plopped down in disbelief.

“What’s wrong Baby?  Is it some bad news?  Lawd knows we don’t need any more bad news,” she shook her head as she headed for the kitchen to fry some poor piece of meat until the taste had left it and the bones were crunchy.

“Everything is okay, Ma,” TaeTay said as she read the letter again. 

Then she read it again.

She read it once more to make sure it was real.

He mentioned
you both
in the letter. 
How did he know about Douglas
? TaeTay frowned, realizing he probably had her investigated and did a background check on her.  But asking her to marry him via a Fed-Ex envelope like she was some mail order bride was beyond reprehensible.

She wasn’t this desperate yet.  She removed the self-addressed envelope and grabbed a piece of paper.  In a clear, strong hand, she sent her response.

Dear Mr. Communicator;

What the hell is wrong with you?   I hope you have more game than this because you are going to need something more than your checkbook.

                   Chillin’ in Compton

He couldn’t help it.  He could not stop smiling when he received her letter. He should have known better than to make the letter so formal and flat, but he needed to know if she was at least interested. TaeTay was on the hook.  All that was left was for him to reel her in.

Dear TaeTay;

I have more game than I know what to do with. I just need to know if you want on the playing field. I also have a really big checkbook.

There is something honest and rare about you that I trust. I will be a good husband to you and a good father to Douglas. I am out of time and I need a decision from you. You both will be treated well.

I am enclosing a self-addressed stamped envelope for your reply.  In your response, please state your terms if you accept my request.

The full conversation can begin at that time.

Sincerely,

Mr. Communicator

For good measure, he enclosed a photo of an engagement ring. It wasn’t a ring that he had selected, but one that he printed from the Internet on regular white copy paper. This made him grin like an idiot as he carefully trimmed away the excess on the paper, to only leave the cutout print of the ring. He slipped it inside of the envelope and dropped in the outgoing shipment box on his way to his real estate agent’s office.

He needed to go and look at the brownstone his sister owned in Brooklyn.  He would need new digs, and they seldom used the house; maybe he could buy it from his dullard of a brother-in-law, or at least use it until he purchased one of his own.  He needed a house with a backyard for his soon-to-be-son to play in. 

It was a crappy day. It seemed to matter little which way she turned, crap was slapping her in the face.  Big open-handed slaps that snapped her head from left to right.  When she arrived home, the simple slaps she had received on the job were nothing in comparison to the fist she got in the face.  Douglas was waiting excitedly for her to arrive home.  When the boy started to talk, he called her Mama and she never saw a real need to correct him.  “Mama, Mama,” he yelled as she walked up on the porch.  “Look at what Mr. Spyder gave me!”  He opened his tiny fist to reveal a crumpled up twenty.  TaeTay’s heart sank.

“And what do you have there, Sweetie?” She asked him.

“I made some monies today by taking a package across the
skreet
and handing it to a man in a red car.  When I came back, Mr. Spyder gave me this.  He said I could make some more tomorrow after school and he would buy me some cool shoes with lights in them. Can I Mama? Can I make some more monies with Mr. Spyder?”

Her head was spinning as the FedEx truck pulled up and the driver brought her another envelope.  “Let’s get inside and get you some dinner, baby, so you can get your bath and read your lessons before going to bed,” she softly said to him. Her mother was standing in the screened door with a very worried look on her face.

Great.  Here comes the bullet shot to my gut
. “What is wrong Mama?”

“I got a call from the prison today.  That baby’s daddy was shanked yesterday morning and he dead,” she said as if she had gotten rutabagas two for one at the market and she was proud of her accomplishment.

All TaeTay wanted was to get in the front door, take off her shoes, and maybe have a glass of wine. She heard a familiar horn as Spyder and his crew rolled by the house with him riding shotgun.  The car slowed just enough for him to look at her and grin. A creepy feeling climbed up her back.  There were no such things as coincidences.  Spyder coming around declaring his intentions to take over care of her and the child on the same day Douglas’s father was killed was not a coincidence.  The one playing card she had was now dead.  Douglas no longer had his father’s name to keep him safe. He was now up for grabs by any lieutenant in the gang who wanted to play the father figure.  It was even scarier to think that Spyder was a better choice than many in the crew.

She looked down at the envelope. 
There are no such things as coincidences
. She stepped inside and opened the package. The cutout engagement ring made her smile. Thurston Cromwell had some nerve. Ordering himself a wife through the mail. Right now the offer didn’t sound so bad. If she did, and right now she wasn’t certain she would accept the offer, it would be her intention to be the best wife he could ever hope to have because if she left California, she never planned to come back.  She and Douglas would make a new home.  If Thurston was going to be a husband for her, and she prayed that her new husband was going to be a good father to her son. Her response to him was brief.

Dear Mr. Communicator,

I am disappointed that you believe I can be bought like a package of ads for your campaign.  I assume someone has died and now it is your turn in the spotlight.  A ready-made family for photo ops as you travel about the country and we are squirreled away.

                  Frowning in disbelief in Compton.

Thurston received her letter and he was uncertain if she was playing hard to get or if the woman was actually hard to get.  He stared at himself in the mirror.  I am not a bad looking man.  By some standards he was even considered handsome. He wanted TaeTay Brown as his wife and if need be, he would get on a plane and drag her ass back to New York. But first, he would try one other approach.

Dear TaeTay;

I need you. Come, make us a home and make me relevant. Don’t leave me.

Sincerely,

Mr. Communicator

Tatay received the letter and opened it.  A huge smile formed on her face.
That’s pretty good
. He now had her attention.

Dear Mr. Communicator,

Let’s talk. 424-555-1716                 

Ready to listen in Compton.

It was a quiet Wednesday morning when he opened the package from TaeTay with her phone number inside. She hadn’t agreed yet, but when he talked to her, he would close the deal.  He was good at that.  Closing the deal. Communicating.  Using words to convey what he felt. He just didn’t do it often and even less with his sister.

He stopped by the Brownstone to meet his sister Veronica and her husband Thomas to look over the property. Thurston wasn’t certain which of them was confused, but he could not hide his surprise when he found out that Thomas owned the entire row of townhouses in the brownstones.  The five homes on the block held two three-story homes on the outer, and the one in the center held a two-story home with a converted third floor to an open roof top play area, complete with mini putting course.

Thurston asked, “Thomas, I’m not sure if you’re interested in selling or if I could lease it from you for two years, but I’d like to move in right away.”

“I don’t see a problem, we’re upgrading the end cap and when it is complete, we are planning to move into it.  This home is one of my favorites, but with four children, it is just not large enough,” Thomas confessed.

Even though he was a boring dullard and had a face that would be perfect in Pagliacci’s next act, the man was a great father. His sister was happy as his wife and their four children were well behaved and likeable. A twinge of guilt seeped into him that he was not a more hands-on uncle.  He provided age appropriate gifts on birthdays and at Christmas and showed up at the occasional recital or game, but that was the extent of his involvement in their lives. He would need his sister to help TaeTay transition into their style of living. Hell, he would need her to help him transition as well.

“Veronica, if you don’t mind my asking, how are you set up to maintain all of the activities your children are in, the household bills…” he was also asking Thomas the same questions.

“The children are a full time job, Thurston.  By the time I get everyone off to school, I find I need some time myself. However, I don’t work, so Thom has set me up an account to take care of the everyday things I need to run the home,” she told him.  That was about all he was going to get from her.  Veronica was never one to discuss money.  Thomas had a great deal of it, but they never lived an extravagant life or lifestyle. He invested most of what he had into real estate or back into his children.  By the time the afternoon was finished, he had a great deal more respect for them both. Even more so when Veronica said the base pieces of furniture could stay since what he owned was not kid friendly.

He would work with TaeTay to decorate the house to make it a place for them. He grinned all the way back to Manhattan as he played with the idea of coming home to a wife. A family. 
My family
. As he entered his office building he was in a laughing fit when he thought about introducing TataLavisha to the family.

His life was about to get interesting.

It was 8:30 in the morning when Big Nasty pulled up in front of her house in an old fashioned car with spinning wheels.  He walked up to the front door and rang the bell as if he were coming to take her to the prom.  Four teardrop tattoos were engraved into the flesh on his cheek while the remainder of the skin that was visible showed off a plethora of half-naked women, snakes, and other blurry images she could not discern. The man was a good six feet tall, solid and covered in anger.

“How can I help you?” she asked the gang leader.

“You know why I am here girl, don’t try to play me,” he told her.  In truth, she did not know why he was on their front porch and she told him so.

“Willie got shanked in prison. His boy needs to be looked after; you got a choice, me or Spyder,” he told her.

“Can I decline you both?” TaeTay asked, her lip curled upwards.

Big Nasty sucked on the gold that covered his oversized eyetooth while he looked her up and down. “You are a fine looking woman, although the blond hair ain’t my thang; that will have to change. But I will be good to you, come by once a week, tighten you up, and leave a few bills on the nightstand.  No one else up in the goods but me.  Give me a son in a year, and we will maintain the status quo.  I will be a daddy figure to the kid and train him right,” he told her before turning to leave.

Over his shoulder, he let her know he would be leaving on Friday but back by next Wednesday.  She should expect to see him on Thursday.

TaeTay said nothing. Her world had just gotten scary. The monster was no longer under the bed, he was trying to climb in it with her. Either way, whether she accepted Thurston’s offer or stayed her, she was going to be owned by someone.  Her heart sank when four rough and tough looking women came walking down the sidewalk. In her heart, she hoped they were walking past her door, but they turned up her driveway.
They are coming for me
.

“Mama,” she yelled into the house. “Please bring George.”

The biggest of the four women was the dedicated spokesperson. “I’m Quida, that’s Shay, Ronika, and Boo,” she said as she pointed out the women.

“Nice to meet you all.  Is there something I can help you with?” TaeTay asked in all sincerity.

Quida spoke up, “yeah, you can come on out here and get this ass whipping so I can go on about my day.”  The other three bobbed their heads in agreement.

There was no doubting her genuine confusion until it clicked.  They were here to jump her into the gang. “I am not a part of the gang and I have no desire to be,” she said flatly.

“It don’t matter what you want.  I am Big Nasty’s bottom bitch, and the mother of his two sons.  These girls here also have a child by him.  I am assuming you will be his Thursday nights,” Quida said with her hand on her hip. “Now come on out here so we can whip yo ass and welcome you to the family.”

Cookie came up behind TaeTay with the shotgun they called George.  She cocked it and aimed it at the girls. “Get the hell out of my yard before I put holes in each one of you skanks.  Y’all killed my other baby, you ain’t getting this one!”

The girls had started to scatter and even in the heels two of them wore, they ran pretty fast.
This can’t be real
. 
This is not real
.
I have to get out of here
.

She was about to sell her soul to save her nephew-turned-son and her own skin, but Thurston may be a devil as well; she only prayed that he would be the littlest of the three evils. As if he had heard her cry, her cell was ringing in the other room.  When she reached for it, she saw the 212 area code.  She answered with a mouthful of air and a racing pulse, “Hello,” she said.

The voice on the other end responded, “Please hold the line for a call from the office of Mr. Cromwell.”

“Good morning. I hope I didn’t wake you,” he said with a richness in his voice that she hadn’t noticed over breakfast.  A weak smile formed on her lips.

“No, I was up,” she said.

There were no smart rejoinders and he could tell something was off, “What’s wrong, TaeTay?”

She exhaled loudly, “I am just uncertain if I am not jumping from a hot skillet directly into the gas flame.”

His answer to her statement was a pleasant surprise. “I understand that you are going to do this for the sake of the boy.  It can be beneficial for you as well, so you don’t have to feel as if you are selling your soul to ensure him a bright future.” He used the words she had muttered a moment ago. 
There is no such thing as coincidence
.

“We are a package deal, Thurston.  If you promise to be a good father to him, then I am ready.  I don’t mean get us to New York and ship him off to some fancy boarding school either and pull him out for photo ops.”

He would be going away for a summer program, but they could discuss that when she arrived. “No, I plan to spend the time and get to know him and you as well. I have altered my schedule to be home every night by 6:30 for story time and time with my wife.”

TaeTay felt like he was doing his politician double talk. “I don’t want to hear your fancy word fondling.  I want to hear it straight.”

“Fancy word fondling?” He laughed before responding with a simple, “I am going to be a good father to him,” he said flatly. “I will also be a good husband.”

A tear ran down her cheek as she looked about the small bedroom that she shared with the child.  She eyed the smattering of his meager clothing as well as her own. There wasn’t a lot to pack; she wanted to leave as much of this behind as she could.  “It won’t take long to get us packed and be ready to go.”

“How soon do you want to leave?” he asked, his heart hammering in his chest.

“I can be ready to leave on Friday,” she said to him.

The relief that washed over him felt like a cool drink on a hot day, “I will send a car to pick you two up once the travel arrangements are made.”

“Okay,” she said weakly.

It was starting to feel less like a win-win and more like she was giving herself to him to get away from one problem, uncertain if she would inherit another. “TataLavisha Cromwell has a nice ring to it don’t you think? Not as boring a Brown.”

This sparked some of the fire back in her, “There is nothing nice about TataLavisha not matter how it is dressed up.”

Thurston was grinning again, “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Just being who you are.  I will see you at home on Friday,” he told her before wishing her a good day and saying goodbye.

He would see her at home on Friday. 
At home
.  She would have her own home. Douglas would have his own room. More importantly, there would not be any gangsters on her front porch trying to make a six-year-old boy into a hardened criminal or turn her into a hardened whore. At least with him she would be his wife.

“Thank you Jesus,” she prayed. Now to tell her mother she was moving.