Troublemaker (5 page)

“I can handle work with my eyes closed and my hands tied behind my back,” Samantha said, letting out a heavy breath. “It's that son of mine that has me about to eat a bottle of Valium. He's got all these fast-ass girls blowin' up his cell phone day and night. The little heffas even call the house looking for him. And now, this latest mess he's gotten himself into . . . I tell you, I'm at the end of my damn rope.”

“Samantha, I don't want to assume anything, because you do have two sons, so which one are you talking about?”

“Good point. Girl, it's Chase. That boy is about to make me lose my religion.”

Victoria wasn't surprised. CJ, short for Carl Junior, was Samantha's oldest son, and the model of what a young man should be. Even though his biological father was an unscrupulous drug dealer who'd been in prison for most of CJ's life, he was the exact opposite of the man whose DNA he shared. CJ was responsible, dependable, trustworthy, and kind. He'd graduated with honors from Howard University and was about to enter Georgetown Law School this fall. He'd never given Samantha or Tyler a moment's trouble beyond normal teenage growing pains. But Chase, her younger son . . . he was a different story.

“If I didn't know any better, I'd swear that that crazy, sorry-ass Carl Jackson was Chase's father instead of Tyler.”

“Samantha, you should be ashamed of yourself for saying that.”

“Why? Hell, it's true and you know it.”

Victoria chose to remain silent on that comment. “Okay, so tell me what's going on? What did he do now?”

“I'm surprised Tyler hasn't already told you. But then again, he's so mad he can't see straight. And you know it takes a lot to get your best friend upset. He even left the house this morning without making a cup of coffee.”

Victoria stopped fiddling with her notepad when she heard the strain in Samantha's voice as she spoke about Tyler. Victoria had seen a missed call from Tyler earlier that morning. She'd been in a meeting when his number had flashed across her cell, so she'd let it go to voice mail. She'd planned to call him later today. “Samantha, tell me what's wrong.”

“Are you sitting down?”

“Yes, and you're scaring me. What in the world has happened?”

“Chase got a girl pregnant.”

“What?” Victoria shook her head.

“I know, girl.” Samantha let out a deep breath filled with frustration. “Tyler's appetite is gone and my skinny ass is eating everything in sight. I feel like I'm the one having a baby.”

“Oh, Lord.”

“I don't know if the Lord has anything to do with this situation goin' on right here.”

Victoria sucked in a deep breath. “Is it Heather?”

“Who?”

“I thought that was Chase's girlfriend's name.”

“See, that's a damn shame. The boy has so many little hoochie mama wannabe girlfriends that no one can keep them straight. Not even me.”

“Wow.”

“This lovely young woman's name is LaMonica.”

Victoria bit down on her lip. “I've never heard you or Tyler mention her.”

Samantha huffed in frustration. “That's because I was hoping she'd go the hell away.”

“You don't like her?”

“Sad thing is, I've never met her. I've only heard him talk about this girl. She doesn't even live in Atlanta. This little heffa is all the way up in D.C.”

Victoria's eyes bucked wide. “As in the nation's capital?”

“You got it.”

“How in the world . . . ?”

“It's such a long story that I don't know where to begin. And to be honest, I'm still unclear about all the details of how they hooked up in the first place.”

“Okay, well, do you know how far along she is?”

“Chase just dropped this bomb on us last night, and apparently the girl is four-months pregnant. I know that my son is irresponsible and that he's made some pretty stupid mistakes, just like a lot of sixteen-year-olds do. Hell, just like I did. I guess this is my payback for the messed-up shit I put my parents through when I was growing up.”

“This isn't payback for anything. Children are a blessing, no matter how they come into this world, and if you're going to be a grandmother, you better change your thoughts about it right now.”

“Grandmother!” Samantha screamed. “Damn it! I'm not ready to be anybody's freakin' grandmother, and I'm not gonna be raising anybody's little crumb snatcher either. ”

“Samantha, stop yelling and calm down.”

“I can't, I'm too upset!”

“Well, you're gonna have to do something because you can't get all worked up like this.”

“That's easy for you to say. Neither one of your kids ever gave you a teenage-pregnancy scare.”

“No, but I had my share of challenges raising Alexandria and Christian and there were a few times I almost lost it. No parent goes through the process unscathed,” Victoria said. “But right now, for Chase's sake, you have to get your emotions in check. You have to move forward and decide what you're going to do as a family now that he's going to be a teenage father.”

A few moments of silence hung in the air before Samantha spoke again. “You're right. I'm just so angry and I feel like this is all my fault. Maybe I should've been stricter on him and been more watchful over what he's been doing.”

Victoria couldn't remember ever hearing the type of emotion that was choked in Samantha's words. Sure, she cursed like a gangster and she had a temper—which could flare up if one attempted to mess with her family—but rarely did she let things affect her to the point of hurt feelings. She was tough like steel and rough like sandpaper. But Victoria knew that even the hardest badasses had a soft spot when it came to their children.

“This isn't your fault, Samantha. Chase is a child, but he's also old enough to know what's right and what's not. You and Tyler have worked hard to instill solid values in him, just like you did with CJ. Each child is different, I can tell you that from raising my two. Alexandria and Christian are worlds apart.”

Samantha exhaled loudly in agreement. “You can say that again.”

“Exactly! So don't feel like you've done anything wrong. Just pray that from this point forward you all can work together to make this situation right.”

“There ain't nothing right about two teenagers having a baby.”

Victoria knew that in Samantha's current state of mind, nothing she said was going to calm her friend, so she decided on a different approach. “I'm sorry about all this, but I know you guys will get through it. I'm going to make you that chocolate cocoa cake you want and bring it over tomorrow night so we can talk. Okay?”

“Okay, girl. Thanks. I really appreciate you.”

“No problem. I'll see you tomorrow.”

 

Just when Victoria thought her worries were complicated, she got a reminder that everyone was going through something. If Samantha was this hurt and upset, she could only imagine how Tyler must be feeling.

Victoria knew she needed to call her best friend and talk to him, and maybe even take him out for a drink. But right now she had to put her priorities in order, which meant heading off trouble before it started. She knew she had to clear the air with her husband about the subject that always caused tension between them: Parker Brightwood. Whenever his name came up, Ted would become noticeably irritated and distant.

Victoria quickly sent Tyler a text message letting him know she'd meet him for coffee the next morning so they could talk. “I'm going to pray hard for them,” she whispered. She logged off her computer, reached for her handbag, and headed down the hallway.

She sent a text to Denise, who was her longtime friend and loyal office manager, and asked her to conduct their afternoon meeting without her because she wouldn't be back in the office today. She walked with purpose as she slipped out the back door and headed to her car, which was parked in the lot adjacent to her building.

“Out of all the men in this big wide world, why in the hell did my daughter have to fall in love with Parker's son?” Victoria mumbled as she sat behind the wheel of her silver Mercedes Benz and started the engine.

She knew what she had to do, so she stepped on the gas and headed home. She planned to cook Ted's favorite meal, make sure he was nice and relaxed, and then have a serious heart-to-heart about the two things that had been weighing down their marriage for the last six months—Parker Brightwood, and the fact that her and Ted's sex life had slowed to a snail's crawl.

S
amantha parked her car in the garage and turned off the engine. She sat for a few moments enjoying the silence of being alone. She wanted nothing more than to have the house all to herself tonight, but that was truly wishful thinking. Tyler was out conducting a crime prevention forum across town with his non-profit organization, Youths First Initiative, and would be home in a few hours, but she was sure that Chase was in his bedroom with the door closed, blasting hip-hop music at an annoying decibel.

Reluctantly, she got out of her car and entered her house. She placed her keys on the brushed nickel hook beside the door, and listened for the deafening beats she'd have to tell her son to turn off because there would be no music, TV, or phone calls for him for the rest of the week. But when, after a few minutes, she didn't hear any noise, she became suspicious.

Samantha walked out of the kitchen and over to the edge of the stairs. “Chase, are you up there?” she called out. When she didn't get an answer, she went up to his room, turned the knob, and walked inside. His bed was made, the room was quiet, and there was no sign of activity. “Where is he?”

She immediately became worried and started to panic, picturing Chase out doing any number of things that made her heart beat fast with anxiety. “Let me call that boy and see where he is,” Samantha said as she walked back down to the kitchen and dialed her son's cell phone.

A deep, husky voice, much too manly for a sixteen-year-old greeted her. “Sup?”

Samantha pursed her lips. “Excuse me? What kind of way is that to answer your phone?”

“Oh, sorry, Mom. My bad. What's up?”

“Where are you?”

“I'm at Brad's, remember?”

“And why are you there?”

“I told you last week that I was spending the night and you and dad said it was fine. As a matter of fact, I gotta go.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Not so fast. After the news you gave your father and me last night, you don't need to be sleeping under any other roof except this one.”

“But you said I could.”

“That was last week, and before last night.”

“I talked to Dad a little while ago and he said it was all right. It's cool, Mom. Relax.”

Samantha couldn't believe that Tyler would allow their son to operate with a business-as-usual attitude, especially considering Chase's predicament, and she wondered if her son was lying. But as she thought about what he'd said, she knew Chase had to be telling the truth because the boy knew better than to lie on his father. However, whether he was really at Brad's house was a different story.

“Mom, I've gotta go.”

“Why're you rushing me off the phone?”

“Brad's mom is about to order pizza and then we're gonna watch a movie.”

Samantha was so upset she wanted to scream. She couldn't believe her son's laissez-faire attitude. He needed to be home on punishment, sitting in his room alone—no friends, no pizza, and no movies—feeling remorse while he contemplated his future and thought about what he'd done. Instead, he was enjoying a fun summer night with a friend.

But Tyler had already said it was okay, and she didn't want to contradict her husband. Still, she wanted to confirm that Chase was really where he said he was. “Put Brad's mother on the phone.”

“What?”

“You heard me,” she said as she rested her hand on her barely there hip. “Put Brand's mother on the phone so I can talk to her.”

“She's getting ready to order pizza for us, Mom.”

“Uh-huh, I heard. Put her on the phone right now or I'm coming over there.”

Samantha could hear Chase huffing and puffing and giving her back talk on the other end of the line. She didn't care how much he grumbled or complained, she was going to make sure that he was really at Brad's, and not over at some girl's house or out getting into any other kind of teenage mischief. A minute later, Susie Vartron, Brad's mother, came to the phone, greeting Samantha in a chipper voice that never seemed to lose its enthusiasm even at the end of a long day.

Samantha felt a wave of relief wash over her body, allowing her to release the tension that had been gripping her shoulders all day. She thanked Susie for keeping an eye on her son and assured her that she and Tyler would get together with Susie and her husband for dinner in the coming week.

“At least Chase told the truth and he's in the home of a responsible adult,” Samantha said, allowing herself to breathe easier. She stood in the middle of her kitchen and looked from one side of the room to the other, trying to figure out where she'd gone wrong with raising her son. She'd never been one to stress over situations, especially ones she had no control over. But ever since last night, when Chase had broken the news to her and Tyler that his girlfriend, LaMonica, was pregnant, she'd been on edge.

Samantha's entire day had been spent worrying about her youngest son's future. What impact would this have on his schooling, finances, social life, and mental state? She reached into the cabinet for a glass and then searched the refrigerator for the bottle of pink Moscato that had her name on it. She poured herself a glass and drank it down as if it were spring water.

“Lord, give me strength,” she said as she walked upstairs with her handbag on her shoulder, her empty wineglass in one hand, and the open bottle in the other. She kicked off her shoes and plopped down onto her soft bed, staring at a framed picture on her chest of drawers that had been taken four years ago. She and Tyler were seated on a red velveteen settee while CJ and Chase stood behind them bearing big smiles. CJ had been in the first semester of his freshman year at Howard University, and Chase had been entering middle school. “Those were good times,” she said aloud.

With what felt like a Herculean effort, Samantha removed her clothes piece by piece, shedding her stylish corporate suit, and pulled on her silk bathrobe. “I need a nice, relaxing bath,” she said with a deep breath of exhaustion. She walked into her spa-like master bathroom and turned on the hot water to her Jacuzzi tub. She walked over to the vanity, looked at herself in the mirror, and nearly jumped back when she saw the tired, haggard-looking woman who was staring back at her.

“Damn, I look like a hot ass mess!” she said with horror as she examined her face.

Being a fashionista, beauty expert, and employee of a renowned cosmetics company, Samantha prided herself in her physical appearance and she put a lot of work into perfecting her look. She knew she wasn't naturally pretty, nor did she have the kind of body that turned heads. Her facial features were average, her light yellow skin was prone to break-outs, her coarse, sandy brown hair needed constant care, and she fought to keep weight on her rail thin frame. She clearly understood her flaws, but she also knew exactly how to fix them.

Primer, concealer, and foundation had been her best friends since high school, and over the years she'd mastered the art of applying them so well that her skin looked dewy soft, and smooth. Her small eyes, flat nose, square jaw, and high forehead were nothing to rave about, but once she applied eye shadow, mascara, lipstick, and blush, she created facial contours that were model worthy. Her coarse hair used to be disguised by expensive weaves and wigs, but now she wore it in a sophisticated pixie cut that shined as a result of regular deep conditioning, hot oil treatments, and weekly salon visits. And instead of wearing body-enhancing garments to give her the illusion of curves she'd never had, she made her thin, boy-shape body stand out by rocking slim pencil skirts paired with expensive stilettos that highlighted her toned, mile-long legs.

But as Samantha looked at herself in the mirror and examined her skin, which appeared rough and sallow, and peered closely at her eyes, which carried a tired, beaten-down expression, she was a long way from the glamorous woman who usually stepped out into the world with confidence. She shook her head in frustration. “That boy's trying to make me a grandmother, and I'll be damned if I'm not already looking like one.”

She walked back out to her bedroom, poured herself another glass of wine, picked up her phone and dialed her best friend, Emily, as she headed back into the bathroom.

“Hey, Samantha,” Emily said after picking up on the second ring. “Is that water I hear in the background?”

“Yes, girl. I'm running a much-needed bubble bath.”

“You must have the house to yourself tonight.”

“Yes, but only for a little while. Chase is spending the night at a friend's so he'll be gone, and Tyler's conducting a community forum across town, so he'll be back in a few hours.”

“Lucky you. I can't remember the last time I had the house to myself for a few hours.”

“Girl, me either,” Samantha said as she took a sip of wine.

“Ed and the kids are always here. I'm not complaining, but I sure do miss my me time. It's so important for us to have time to ourselves.”

“You can say that again, and I'm savoring every minute of mine.”

“I'd so love to trade places with you right now.”

Samantha shook her head, wishing they could do exactly that. Samantha and Emily had been best friends since their freshman year at Spelman College. They'd been roommates and formed an instant bond, tying them closer than any two blood sisters could ever be. They even shared the same birthday, but aside from that they were opposites in almost every way one could imagine.

Emily had grown up an only child in a modest home tucked inside a working-class neighborhood. She'd been raised by her widowed mother, a school teacher with a kind heart who'd passed along her sweet nature and kind ways to Emily.

Samantha's upbringing had been drastically different, hailing from an old-money, Washington, D.C. family in the famed Gold Coast community. She had an estranged brother whom she hadn't seen in nearly twenty years since he'd moved to Paris with his male lover, and she was daughter to an uncaring socialite mother whom she loathed. But her heart and love were rooted in her nurturing father, who was a prominent attorney. Other than her husband, Samantha's father was the best man she'd ever known.

The two women's unique backgrounds and personalities served to complement one another. Emily's calm demeanor softened Samantha's bold, often over-the-top personality. And Samantha's wild and free spirit helped bring Emily out of her shy, timid shell. They valued, protected, and loved each other to no end. But their long-standing friendship had been tested many years ago by an unexpected and shocking betrayal.

Shortly after celebrating their thirtieth birthday, Samantha had found out that her meek and quiet friend had been having an affair with her father.

In Samantha's eyes, her father, Edward Baldwin, could do no wrong. Ever since she was a small child she'd been a daddy's girl. Conversely, she'd always had a mutually hateful relationship with her mother, and to this day they barely even spoke. But she'd loved Ed with all her heart, and the betrayal and deception she'd felt from him and her best friend had rocked her to her core.

Both her father and Emily had kept their affair a secret from her, sneaking around right under her nose. Once Samantha discovered the truth and the level of their deception, it had devastated her and Emily's friendship, and distanced her from her father, causing her to drift apart from both of them for nearly a year without so much as speaking. But time, love, and maturity had healed those wounds. Samantha and Emily had become pregnant around the same time, and when Samantha realized that life with Emily had made her father the happiest he'd ever been, she'd started to come around.

Today, Emily and Ed were still in love, happily married, and raising two children, Elise, who was sixteen, and Phillip, who'd just turned thirteen last month. Emily had chosen Samantha's middle name to give to their daughter, and it had filled Samantha with joy.

Samantha was glad that after all she and Emily had been through over the years, their friendship was still rock-solid. As a matter of fact, both women could honestly say that they were closer now than they had ever been. Healing from the hurt had been hard, but it had made them wiser, stronger, and better women from the experience, and they vowed never to keep another secret from each other, ever again.

“If I was in your shoes,” Emily said, “I'd be taking a long soak in the tub, too, and I'd be sipping some wine at that.”

Samantha took a deep breath. “My glass is in my hand as we speak. But trust me, you don't want to trade places with me right now.”

“Samantha, what's wrong? You don't sound good and I can hear stress in your voice.”

“I don't even know where to begin.”

“You're scaring me. Tell me what's going on?”

Samantha could imagine Emily—with her flawless nut-brown-colored skin, beautiful, cover-model-looking face, and body that looked as though it belonged to a young twenty-something hottie—sitting on her couch with the phone pressed against her ear and worry enveloping her body.

“It's Chase,” she said.

Emily let out a deep sigh. “Oh no, not again. What's he done now?”

“He got a girl pregnant.”

There was silence on the line as Samantha waited for Emily's response. “Hello? Emily, you still there?”

“I'm here,” Emily said. “I'm on my way to the kitchen. I need a drink.”

“Why do you think I'm sippin' right now?”

“I'll be joining you as soon as I open a bottle.”

The two friends talked and sipped as Samantha gave Emily the details from the previous night.

“I'm still stunned,” Emily said. “It's just hard to believe that Chase has been having a relationship with a girl he met up here last spring? How in the world can a sixteen-year-old maintain a long-distance relationship when most adults can't?”