Mama Dearest (39 page)

“So it was a date. I thought you said it was a meeting? Meeting or date? Either way. If you’re happy, then I’m ecstatic. Maybe it’s time for me to get my Chris Brown thing going.”

“I have told you I’m not letting you get anywhere near Chris Brown, Madison.”

“I should say the same thing about Yancey Braxton. But I won’t. I like seeing you like this.”

“Like what?”

“Falling in love.”

“Who said I was falling in love.”

“I can see it in your face. But maybe you never fell out of love.”

“No comment,” Derrick said.

Madison folded her arms across her chest and cocked her head slightly left and smiled at her daddy.

After a long day of filming it was nice to share a glass of wine with Basil at his apartment. A football game was playing on the flat-screen television, but to my surprise Basil was looking at me intently as I had remembered him doing all too well. He asked me how my filming had gone and about Madison. I told him they were both okay and I hoped things would get even better. I sipped my wine and asked Basil a question that appeared to catch him off guard.

“Are you as happy as you seem?”

“What are you talking about, Yancey?”

“Is Raymond the reason you’re so happy?” He didn’t answer right away. I figure he was trying to find a way to tell me yes without hurting my feelings. Although I hadn’t seen them embrace, kiss or even touch each other in my presence, it was obvious they were in love.

“I’m not going to talk with you about that, Yancey.”

“Why?”

“Just not. I try to keep my personal life private.”

“That’s cool,” I said, feeling uncomfortable with his intense reply. “This wine is great. What’s it called?”

“La Crema. It’s a California wine,” Basil said as his eyes were averted to the television set.

“It’s very good. Do you have players who play for either of these teams?”

“A couple.”

“Oh,” I said.

Basil must have realized how flustered I was, because he turned and posed another question. “Yancey, how did you get mixed up with this crazy dude?”

“I didn’t think he was crazy,” I corrected him. “He treated me like a princess. He made promises. He had money and I need money to give my career one final shot.”

His face scrunched up at that remark. “You’re still young, so why do you say final shot?”

“No, Basil, I’m not as young as I’d like to be. There won’t be many more chances. I just thought Marcus cared about me.”

“How do you feel about seeing the old boy?”

“Who?” I asked, though I knew exactly who he meant.

“Derrick was his name, I think.”

“Derrick’s still pretty much the same. A really solid guy,” I said.

“Any sparks? They say first loves are the only loves.”

“I don’t know if I believe that.”

He gave me a catlike smile, then let it go. “What about Madison?”

“What about her?”

“Have you given any thought to being a real mother to her?”

“I don’t think that’s an option,” I said.

“Why?” he asked, still with that easy probing.

“Because I don’t think Madison needs or wants a mother. Especially me. I mean, this little girl is getting ready to sing for the president’s daughters. She is going to be huge.”

“Wow, that’s great. Are you going to be able to go?”

“I doubt it. I’m just hoping that I’m not going to be sitting in a jail cell.”

“Raymond is not going to let that happen,” Basil said.

His certainty bolstered my spirits. “I hope you’re right, but even if I’m not, Madison doesn’t need me.”

“Has she said that?”

“No.”

“I think you should go, Yancey. I think you’ve grown up a lot since I met you. I think you are ready to be a mother,” Basil said.

I felt an upwelling of hope. Madison and I had been getting along really well onstage, and not just playing a role. We were starting to feel a real connection. “What makes you say that?”

“Just an observation. I think now that you’re working with her, it might be a chance to get to know her. It doesn’t sound like Derrick would mind.”

“Are you still enjoying being a father?”

Basil broke out in a warm smile. “One of the best things in the world that ever happened to me.”

“How old is Talley now?”

“Almost ten and she is going to be a diva. And I mean that in a good way.”

“And not a bad diva like me,” I said sadly.

He reached his hand out along the back of the couch and stroked my shoulder. “You weren’t always bad, Yancey. There are a lot of good things about you. I don’t think I could have fallen in love with you if that was not true.”

“So you really were in love with me?”

His fingers gave me a squeeze that instantly turned me on. “Yancey, come on, girl. You know I was. But I was also very confused and self-centered. Parenthood changes that. It’s not all about you but how you can be the best parent possible.”

Basil sounded so wise. Then again, I reflected, if he had grown up, so had I. “If it were only that easy.”

“It’s not easy, Yancey, but it’s not hard either.”

“I don’t think it’s fair for me to get too close to Madison now,” I said.

“Why not?”

“What if I can’t prove that I was set up for the drug bust? I might be going to jail. Raymond said I could get up to fourteen years. How fair would that be to Madison?”

“See, you’re acting like a parent already. Thinking of Madison instead of yourself. Plus,” he said, “we’re going to get to the bottom of why that dude set you up. You’re not going to prison,” Basil said confidently.

I didn’t answer. Instead I just took a long, slow swallow of the wine and savored its taste as though it was for the first time.

T
HE NEXT DAY WHEN
I walked into the studio my cell phone rang, and XJI rang across the screen. That was the name of Basil’s company, so I answered.

“Hello.”

“May I speak to Yancey?”

“This is Yancey.”

“Yancey, this is Abigail Gatlin. I’m one of Mr. Henderson’s assistants. He asked me to call and see if you have plans this evening.”

I felt a flush of excitement. We had been so close last night. “Right now I don’t. Why?”

“He wants you to meet him at Telepan at eight. It’s on West sixty-ninth. Can you do that?”

“It shouldn’t be a problem. Did he say why he wanted to meet me?”

“No, Ms. Braxton,” she said flatly. “He just asked me to call you and that if you could, to make the reservation. I’m sure he’ll be glad you can make it. I will text him as soon as I make the reservation. Do I need to call you back to confirm?”

“No, I’ll be there. Thanks, Abigail.”

“Have fun, Ms. Braxton.”

Ava, what are you doing here?” Lyrical asked. She was surprised to see Ava standing outside her West 138th Street walk-up. “Where is Donnie Ray?” Ava asked. She looked totally out of place in a St. John’s knit suit covered by a knee-length fur coat.

“I don’t know.”

“What did you tell him?” Ava asked in an accusatory tone.

“What are you talking about?” Lyrical asked.

“I got a call from him saying he needed to talk to me about you. He hasn’t called back. So what did you tell him?”

“I just told him about your party,” Lyrical said. She noticed one of her neighbors coming out of the building, who smiled at Lyrical and Ava.

“I don’t believe that. He left some cryptic message about how I needed to watch my back. What do you have up your sleeve, Lyrical? Don’t mess with me or you’ll live to regret it,” Ava said as she pointed her finger close to Lyrical’s nose and then waved her hand in a dismissive gesture.

“Get your fingers away from my nose, Ava. You know I’m not scared of you,” Lyrical said.

“That tells me how stupid you are. I got money now, which means I got my power back and you best not fuck with me.”

Lyrical couldn’t believe this woman was always running a con. “You really are a sad case, Ava. I actually feel sorry for you. But I feel worse for Yancey. What did she do to deserve you as a mother?”

“The bitch ended my career, that’s what she did,” Ava said savagely. “If I hadn’t had Yancey, I would have been a big star.”

“That’s no reason, Ava, and you know it. Now I’m going inside,” Lyrical said.

“Tell me where Donnie Ray is.”

“I don’t know where he is, so get out of my way,” Lyrical said with a dead calmness in her voice.

Ava took a step closer. “Listen to me, Lyrical, don’t mess up your life by crossing me. I’ve told you a hundred times, don’t fuck with me.”

Lyrical did some stepping up of her own. “I’m done with you, Ava.”

I paid the taxi driver as he pulled up in front of Telepan, an Upper West Side restaurant that Basil had raved about. I was a little surprised when I got the call to join him, but a free meal was a free meal. I didn’t know what to make of him telling me to wear something hot and sexy. He had rejoined my team, and if so what did Raymond think about that?

I walked into the dimly lit restaurant. There was a bar to my right and a coat check to my left. After I checked my black cashmere coat, my tight-fitting black dress was revealed. A single strand of pearls hung just above my breasts, which swelled from the top of the dress. I went to the hostess station where two young white girls were enjoying their conversation, looking over a huge white reservation book. When I approached, the one with the brunette hair looked up and smiled before asking if she could help me.

“Yes, I have a reservation. The name is Henderson. Basil Henderson. Is he here yet?”

“Oh yes, John Basil Henderson. He and Mr. Tyler are two of our
favorite customers. You must be Yancey Braxton. We’ve been waiting for you.”

She sounded like she was in love with Basil. That figured. “I am Yancey Braxton. So, Mr. Henderson is already here?”

The young lady didn’t answer. She simply smiled again and told me to follow her. We walked through the restaurant past several patrons who were enjoying dinner. The young lady opened a door that led into what appeared to be a private dining room. There was a table set for two with a huge display of white and yellow roses. Candles were flickering everywhere, and the smell of the flowers was intoxicating. But there was no Basil, and now I was really wondering what he had up his sleeve.

“Have a seat, Ms. Braxton. Can I get you something to drink before your dinner guest arrives?”

“Can I have a cranberry juice with club soda?”

“Sure. I will get that for you.”

“On second thought, let me have a glass of champagne,” I said.

“Is there a preference?”

“I know you don’t sell Dom by the glass. Do you?”

“We don’t, but there are always exceptions, and Mr. Henderson instructed us to make sure you got whatever you wanted. Let me check with the bartender.”

When she left the room, music suddenly began playing. It was Seal singing the Sam Cooke classic “A Change Is Going to Come.” I walked over to the large window that looked out on Central Park West and thought how nice it was of Basil to plan such a special evening. A few moments later I heard a deep male voice say, “I was told to come back here.”

I turned around and was surprised to see Derrick standing there, looking quite handsome in a black suit, white shirt and a rose-red tie. He smiled but looked surprised to see me.

“Derrick. What are you doing here?” I asked.

“I was getting ready to ask you the same thing,” Derrick said.

“I thought I was meeting someone else,” I said.

“Me too.”

“Who were you meeting?”

“I got a call from your former guy Basil Henderson. He asked me to meet him here. Said he wanted to talk to me about my daughter’s career and he was bringing some important people,” Derrick said as he looked around the private dining room.

“I was expecting Basil as well but he just told me to meet him here.”

“It doesn’t look like this is set up for a meeting,” Derrick said as he eyed the elegantly designed dining table.

The hostess walked in with the champagne on a silver tray. I immediately noticed two white envelopes. She handed me the champagne and one of the notes, then looked at Derrick. “You must be Mr. Lewis,” she said.

“I am,” he replied.

“This is for you.” She handed him the other envelope. “Can I get you something to drink?”

Derrick looked at me and said, “I’ll have what the lady is having.”

“Let me see what is going on,” I said as I tore open the envelope. There was a handwritten note in Basil’s handwriting that read:
Yancey … life is short … choose happiness and forget about the past.

I noticed Derrick reading his note and a smile breaking out across his face.

“What does yours say?” I asked.

“That’s personal,” Derrick smirked.

“It seems like somebody is trying to set us up,” I said, flashing a delighted smile.

“Do you have a problem with that?”

I shrugged. “I don’t if you don’t.”

“At least we’ll have a nice dinner. I heard the place is very good,” Derrick said.

“I heard the same thing.”