Mama's Boy (23 page)

51

W
hen it rained, it was a freaking tsunami. Kay sat across the kitchen table from her best friend, the girl she had just proclaimed days ago as her “ride-or-die chick.” But at this very moment it was like she didn't even know the woman.

After last night's stressful debate, the last thing Kay wanted to do was go at it with her best friend. Or judging from the look of contempt on Camille's face, former best friend. But Camille had called her and demanded a meeting with her and Phillip this evening.

“So, let me get this straight,” Kay said, trying to process what Camille had just told her and Phillip. “You believe that my husband and I should pay for Charlie's new school?”

Camille sat like a plaintiff on one of Kay's cases. Her soon-to-be-ex-husband, who was sitting next to her, leaned in. “Look, we don't like this at all. We wish neither of the boys got in trouble,” Vincent said. “But the bottom line remains this was all Ryan's idea.”

“Says your son,” Kay countered.

“And I believe my son,” Camille replied.

On top of everything else in her life, Kay couldn't believe that she was now battling her best friend. How much could one woman take?

“Look, we don't have it like you two,” Vincent continued. Kay couldn't help but wonder since when did they become such a united front.

“Yeah,” Camille added. “It's no big deal to you that Ryan got kicked out of Whittington. You'll just enroll him in another ritzy school and foot the bill. Meanwhile, Charlie lost his scholarship and he can't just bounce to the next private school.”

“I don't understand why you think we're liable for that,” Phillip said.

“Because our son was selling drugs that your son was manufacturing. So your son is responsible for ruining his life,” Vincent said.

“Wow. Really?” Kay looked at Camille. Surely, this cockamamie accusation was coming from Vincent. “You agree with this?”

Camille glared at her. “The school has proof this was all Ryan's idea. All of the chemicals, the chemical blueprints were found in Ryan's locker. Charlie doesn't know how to make drugs.”

“We didn't come to debate with you,” Vincent continued. “We just decided to present it to you first. We can always get the money we need for his school by selling this story to a tabloid.”

Kay knew there was a reason she never really cared for Vincent. This had to be all his doing.

“Camille, you know you and I are better than this,” Kay said.

“Don't go there with me, Kay. This isn't personal. This is my son.”

“You're supposed to be my best friend and this is what you do?” Kay asked.

“That's. My. Son,” Camille repeated, her tone unblanched. “And I'm sorry, at the end of the day, he is the most important thing to me. Not my best friend, not my job. My son. The bottom line is Ryan is the one who got him caught up in this mess and I'm not gonna let my son have his life ruined for that.” She leaned back, her words pierced with finality.

“I don't believe this,” Kay said.

“What do you expect us to do, Kay?” Vincent asked.

“Did our friendship mean anything to you?” Kay couldn't help but ask.

Camille seemed to be getting angrier by the second. “You know, you can try and go there with me if you want,” Camille said. “But you are the one always talking about ‘those thugs.' Maybe you needed to be keeping tabs on your own little thug.”

Kay was appalled at the words coming out of Camille's mouth. It was like it was a totally different person sitting in her dining room.

“If this was anybody else's child,” Vincent said, “you have to admit, you'd be the first one trying to throw him into jail.”

“Even if it was her own child, she would be ready to crucify him.” Camille rolled her eyes.

Kay didn't understand where this anger was coming from. Just days ago, she and Camille had been laughing and playing
Thelma and Louise
.

“Now, that's not even necessary,” Phillip said. “This is stressful for us all.”

“Tell me about it,” Camille snapped. “The only reason my son got expelled was because he hooked up with Ryan.”

“Camille, can I talk to you privately?” Kay said. She didn't un
derstand what was happening and she needed to find out why the 360-degree turn.

“There's nothing for us to talk about,” Camille said defiantly.

“Yeah, really, there is.” They faced off, then finally Camille stood, scooted away from the table, and followed Kay outside. “What is your problem?” Kay asked.

Camille glared at her before answering. “My problem is that you are so busy trying to convict everyone else's son, so busy talking about all these, quote, trifling young men out there, and you got one living in your own house. I had a good kid and your little pride and joy has ruined his life. And now I'm doing what I have to do to make sure that my son's future isn't ruined. You can buy your son another future. Charlie has to work for his. I'm not going to let him mess it all up because your son talked him into doing something crazy.”

Kay was dumbfounded. She would have never believed this if she wasn't living it.

“And Vincent was right,” Camille continued. “You're always standing in judgment of some child. He must be a thug because he has a tattoo, because he wears baggy clothes, because he hangs out with his friends,” she said, mocking Kay. “Even your own son, your real son Jamal, who you were ready to hang out to dry. Now, I don't even get how a mother can disconnect from her own son like you did, but that's neither here nor there. The point is, that boy's mom came to you and told you he was a good kid who had made a bad choice and you weren't trying to hear her, but now that your son is in the same boat—”

“My son isn't accused of murder,” Kay said.

“I saw the video, Kay. It was an accident. Your
real
son is not some murderer. But you can't see past your self-righteousness, woe-is-me-because-I-got-knocked-up mentality to get that. But the fact remains, Jamal Jones seems to be a good kid who got caught up in a bad situation and you convicted him because he looked like a thug. For that you were ready to write him off. You're no better than some of the racist people you rail against. Your son doesn't have a tat anywhere. He wears khakis and Polos, makes straight A's, and oh, yeah, is a drug dealer.”

“He isn't a drug dealer,” Kay said, her voice quivering. “He did something stupid. Should he be punished for the rest of his life?”

“Exactly,” Camille said. “For whatever reason, your son who has it all, who has the perfect life, the perfect grades, the perfect future, for some reason he made a dumb decision. Just like Jamal.”

Kay's eyes watered up.

Camille moved toward the door. “Now, I'm sorry that this is turning out like this,” she continued. “But I'm like Gloria Jones. My number-one priority is protecting my son, even if that means losing my best friend in the process.”

She pushed past Kay and went back in the house, summoned her husband, and left without saying another word.

52

G
loria didn't know what Phillip wanted, but the tone of his voice left knots in her stomach. When he'd called and asked her to come by his office, she'd asked him what it was about. But he was cold and standoffish. Not the same person he'd been since she'd met him. She'd had her mother drive her here and her insides did flips the whole way over.

“Hi, Mrs. Jones,” Phillip said. “Thank you so much for coming.” Stress lines filled his forehead. And for the first time since she'd met him, Phillip Christiansen didn't look polished and refined.

“Are you okay?” he asked her. That touched her heart. He was carrying the weight of everything his family was enduring and yet he was still concerned about her.

She nodded because she couldn't find her voice. Phillip had requested that Elton not come with her. He didn't know that she'd left Elton, but that request alone spoke volumes.

Gloria took a seat. “Is this meeting you requested regarding the case? Is there some new evidence?”

Phillip sat down at his desk and looked at her. “Mrs. Jones, I like you a lot. And I like Jamal, too. I think he's a good kid who's getting a bad rap.”

“He is.”

“That's why it pains me to have to do this.”

“Noooo,” she muttered, because she knew what was coming next.

“I'm going to have to step down as your son's attorney.”

The sob she'd been fighting back escaped. She buried her face in her hands and cried.

“I am so sorry. But now that I know everything, I just can't. I told my wife I was going to stay on, but the more I think about it, the more I know I can't do it.”

“I am so sorry,” she said. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but please don't leave us.”

He held his hands up to stop her. “You know, I could even get over the fact that you weren't entirely truthful. But your husband violated my wife. The woman I love. What do I look like helping you guys out?”

“You're not helping us out. You're helping Jamal,” she cried. “Please don't do this.”

“I have some great people that I can recommend.” He started sifting through some business cards.

“We go to trial soon.”

“I'll ask for a continuance.”

“That means Jamal will have to stay in jail even longer.” Gloria scooted to the edge of her seat. “Please, Mr. Christiansen. You don't even have to work with Elton. I left him.”

Phillip stared at her like he was trying to determine if she was telling the truth.

“I swear. I left him two weeks ago. I'm not going back.”

“I'm sorry. My mind is made up,” he said. “Besides, I think it's a conflict of interest anyway.”

“How is it a conflict for you to fight for my son? For your wife's son?” she couldn't help but add.

She regretted that because Phillip grew tense and said, “I'm sorry. I'll pass on the name of an attorney, or if you prefer, I can speak with the attorney with the Black Justice Coalition and bring him up to speed. I know they really wanted this case.”

“I don't want that attorney. I want you.”

“And I don't want to bring my wife any more pain than she's already enduring,” he said. “We have a lot of things going on personally and I don't want to add any more stress, especially to my wife.”

Under different circumstances, Gloria might have admired his loyalty to his wife. But right now, she was feeling a pain like never before.

“Please . . .”

He stood, signaling the end of their conversation. “I'm sorry. I'll see you out.”

Gloria eased the cards he'd given her into her purse. She struggled not to have a meltdown in the lobby of his law office.

Gloria didn't know how she made it back out to the car. Her mother was sitting in the front seat, nodding off. Gloria eased into the car and began sobbing.

“Hey, what's wrong?” her mother asked, groggy from her nap.

“He's dropping the case.”

“What?”

“He's dropping the case,” she repeated.

“Oh, Jesus,” Erma replied.

“He said he just can't with everything that's going on.” She'd told her mother everything last night. Erma had held her as she cried, but thankfully, hadn't said much else.

Erma was silent for a few minutes, then said, “Well, the way I see it, you have two options. You can sit here like a blubbering fool or you can do something about it.”

“Do what?” Gloria sniffed.

“I don't know, find a new attorney.”

“I can't find someone this fast.”

“Seems like to me you sure got a lot of things you can't do,” Erma said.

“We're about to go to trial, Mama, not to mention the money,” she replied.

“Then you have to convince him to not give up on the case,” Erma said, matter-of-factly.

“How am I supposed to do that?”

“Look, you're the same woman that can take a baby and convince the whole world that he is yours. Well, everyone except me.” She smiled.

Again, Gloria was thankful her mother didn't launch into a rampage of
I told you sos.

“Jamal is mine.”

“Then act like it. All your life, I've been telling you that you have a fighter's spirit in your blood. You're more like me than you care to admit. You didn't like your daddy's sit-back-and-take-it attitude when you were little. You let your husband take you away from that. But you're a fighter.” She tapped Gloria's chest. “You're a fighter in there. Are we gladiators or are we bitches?”

Gloria couldn't help but burst out laughing. “Really, Mama?”

“Okay, so you know I love some
Scandal
. The fact remains that you gotta pull it together, baby girl. All this whining and moping, working my last nerve, is just too much. Your son is in trouble and the only person who can help him is you.”

“What am I supposed to do?”

“You keep telling Jamal to hang on. You gotta do the same. You have to have faith and you got to keep on fighting. The devil tests us when we're at our weakest moment.”

Gloria was a little shocked. “When did you get to be so wise?”

“I always have been. My family just underestimates me. Now, come on. Let's go by the drive-thru daiquiri shop so we can get a daiquiri and strategize your next move.”

Her mother slid her oversized sunglasses on, let the top down on her convertible, then sped toward the daiquiri shop.

53

G
loria had never prayed so hard. She remembered Elton preaching a sermon one time about surrendering when you had nowhere else to turn and all hope was lost. Simply surrendering to God and knowing that He would work it all out. That's where she was now. She was surrendering. She'd prayed. She'd cried. She'd turned it over to God.

And like her mother said, she was ready to fight.

Yes, Gloria had faith, but she also knew that God helped those who helped themselves. That's why she was here about to give God a little assistance.

Gloria lightly tapped on the front door. She felt like a stalker, having followed Kay home from her office. She hated to be coming to this woman's house, but Gloria didn't think she'd make it past the receptionist at her office. Gloria knew Phillip wasn't at home because she had called his office on the way over. But right now, she was at her last resort. She was just about to ring the doorbell when the front door swung open. The most adorable curly-haired teenage boy stood there.

“Hello,” he said.

“Hi, is your mother home?” Gloria asked.

He looked her up and down, like he was unsure whether he should answer. “Yes, she is,” he finally said.

“Well, can you tell her that Mrs. Jones is here to see her?”

The boy nodded. “Hold on, please.”

She smiled. He was a mannerable boy and Gloria found herself wondering if that's how Jamal would've turned out if he'd grown up with Kay. She shook that thought off. Jamal had grown up right where he was supposed to. With her.

After a few minutes, Kay appeared in the doorway. Shock registered across her face. “What are you doing here?”

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” Gloria shifted.

Kay folded her arms and glared at Gloria. “I don't think that's a good idea. I mean, I'm not prosecuting your case anymore so I really don't know what we have to talk about.”

“I know,” Gloria said, “but I'm here to talk to you”—she paused—“woman to woman.” She looked up at the teen, who had appeared behind Kay. “Mother to mother,” Gloria added.

Kay turned around. “Ryan, go on back inside, son. I'll be in in a minute.”

Ryan hesitated, glanced back and forth between the two women, then eased away. Kay stepped outside and closed the door.

Gloria wasn't going to lie. She had hoped to be able to go inside and see Kay's lavish home. But today, that wasn't her mission. So she refocused on the real reason she was here.

“I need your help,” Gloria said, getting straight to the point.

“I don't know what you think I can help you with,” Kay replied. “I turned the case over. I recused myself. I'm out of it.”

“But your husband has stepped down as well.”

Kay looked shocked, like she had no idea. Finally, she said, “I have no control over what he has done.”

“I know. But we're too far in the process and Phillip is committed and we can't lose him. The trial starts in two weeks.”

“Well, I understand that you have lawyers lined up to represent you.”

“We have lawyers lined up to get in the spotlight that this case brings. Phillip is here because he cares about what happens to Jamal.”

Kay folded her arms across her chest. “Yes, my husband is very committed to getting justice for Jamal. But I guess he was committed to his wife more. I'm sorry, I can't help you. He doesn't want to stay on the case because he knows what your husband did.
You
know what your husband did.”

Gloria took a deep breath and then looked back up. “You're right. I was wrong. He was wrong. I was wrong to believe him.”

Kay gave her a
tell me something I don't know
look.

“But, please, try to understand my position,” Gloria continued. “You know your husband. If someone came to you and told you the worst thing ever, something no amount of money could make you think he was capable of doing, wouldn't you be inclined to believe him?”

Kay stood for a minute, thinking.

Gloria continued, “I never saw that man who,” she paused, inhaled, and readied herself to utter words she'd never admitted, “who raped you. He had never shown himself to me so I couldn't believe he existed. I didn't want to believe he existed. I really did believe that you . . . that it was consensual. Or maybe I just wanted to believe it.”

Gloria could tell she was getting through to Kay, so she didn't let up.

“That doesn't excuse it. It doesn't justify it. I should have listened. I should have opened my eyes. I should've let my head lead me and not my heart. I shouldn't have been so quick to judge. After you left that day with your parents, my gut told me something wasn't right. That's why it haunted me. And I asked for Jamal because I wanted to make it right. I wanted that child, who didn't ask to be brought here, to be loved. I wanted to give him a chance at life. I wanted to make up for not standing up for you. And I wanted to find joy in tragedy. That's why I insisted that we adopt him.”

Kay's eyes started misting. “It was your idea to take him?”

“Yes. I mean, Elton didn't fight me on it.” Gloria didn't see any sense in telling Kay how Elton had been against the idea. “And we have loved Jamal. We have tried to give him the best. He doesn't deserve to be where he is. He's a good kid.”

“Most mothers say that.”

Gloria stood silent for a moment. “We deserve that one,” she said. “My husband did something very, very bad seventeen years ago. He should've been punished for it. But we can't change the past. All we can do is try to create a better future. And that's what I'm here to do.”

“What do you want from me, Gloria?” Kay sighed.

“Jamal needs Phillip. We need you to convince him to stay on our case.”

Kay rolled her eyes. “Even if I could, it's not my place to convince my husband of anything. He can't support what your husband did to me.”

“I've left Elton,” Gloria blurted out. “So he shouldn't even be a part of the equation.”

Kay's mouth dropped open. “What? Is that some kind of trick?”

“Please understand, my son's life is on the line. I'm not playing games, doing any tricks. I'm just trying to save him,” Gloria said. “This situation simply opened my eyes to my husband. I've discovered so many things about him that I can't stand. That I've excused over the years.”

Kay stood for a minute. “Well, that's on you,” she said.

“I just need you to try to talk to Phillip. Please, I'm begging you. Help me save my son. Help me save
our
son.”

Kay didn't say anything at first, then finally said, “Fine. I'll talk to him. But he's his own man and I can't make any promises.”

“That's all I can ask. Thank you. Thank you,” Gloria cried.

She didn't know why she felt so confident. Maybe it was the look in Kay's eyes. It was the look of a mother. And ultimately, that trumped everything.