With This Ring Read online

  Vangie entered her son’s bedroom with a smile on her face. “How many more points did my little genius get?”

  Yuri looked baffled. “Points? They’re not points…they’re hits!” His expression quickly switched from puzzlement to pure delight. “Look, Mom. We might get discovered by Meek Mill or Kendrick Lamar,” he said, excitedly pointing to the screen.

  Vangie peered at the image on the screen, which Yuri had paused. Instead of the colorful First in Math website, she saw a YouTube video with a mob of teenage boys, their faces frozen in belligerent expressions, their hands, poised in confrontational gestures. And in the center of the young thugs was none other than her innocent, young son.

  “Yuri! What are you doing with those teenagers?”

  “I was with Uncle Man-Man.” Yuri pointed to a chunky teen, around fifteen or sixteen.

  “You don’t have an Uncle Man-Man.” Vangie didn’t recognize the kid in the stilled video, and he was certainly no kin to her and Yuri.

  “Uncle Man-Man is Jojina’s brother.”

  Jojina was Yuri’s father’s latest hood-rat girlfriend and the negative influence that she and her three monster-kids had on Yuri was bad enough. Now that a wayward teenage brother was in the picture, there was no telling how much inappropriate behavior Yuri had been exposed to during the court-appointed time he spent with his father.

  Vangie unpaused the video and grimaced as she listened to Yuri, standing amidst a throng of thugs outside a housing development that she didn’t recognize, reciting rap lines that embraced violence and misogyny.

  “We have six thousand hits. When we reach a million, we’ll probably get a record deal,” Yuri said with innocence shining in his eyes. And that youthful naiveté and innocence was something she wanted to preserve for the duration of his childhood, but if she left it up to his father’s lack of wisdom and apparent lack of supervision, Yuri would be headed down a bad path before he reached his teens.

  It wasn’t that Shawn was a bad father; he wasn’t. But he seemed blind to the potential harm that his relationship with his welfare-receiving, project-dwelling girlfriend, Jojina, could cause Yuri down the line. Jojina’s children, ages ten, eight, and seven, had already filled Yuri’s head with a bunch of ghetto nonsense that he had no business knowing. Every time Yuri came back from a weekend with Shawn, he used new, uncouth expressions that Vangie didn’t approve of. It was sickening, the way she had to deprogram Yuri after every visit with his father.

  “Does Man-Man live in the same housing projects as Jojina?” Vangie spoke the names Man-Man and Jojina with repugnance. She already hated hearing Yuri talk about Jojina and her kids who were named Devontay, Javarious, and Starlet. Seriously, who would give their children such ridiculous names except a moronic hood rat?

  Lately, Yuri had been referring to Jojina’s little monsters as his brothers and sister, which drove Vangie out of her mind. Now, hearing about this teenaged, Uncle Man-Man presented a new thorn in her side.

  “Log off the computer and read a book, Yuri!”

  “But—”

  “But, nothing—read a book! I’ll call you when dinner’s ready.”

  She stormed back to the kitchen and grabbed her phone. She entered Shawn’s number and tapped her nails on the kitchen counter as she impatiently waited for him to pick up.

  “Yo,” Shawn said in the brusque tone that he used whenever he spoke with Vangie. They’d been mortal enemies ever since Shawn had taken Vangie to court, claiming that Vangie made more money than he did and should be paying him child support. But his tactic hadn’t worked.

  A few months ago, Vangie had taken Shawn back to court, trying to revoke his visitation rights due to the bad influence the project heifer and her heathen kids were having on Yuri. But the judge told Vangie that she had to prove that Yuri had been harmed while in the care of his father. Unable to prove that Yuri had actually been harmed, Vangie had no choice but to continue allowing Yuri to be around Shawn’s ratchet girlfriend.

  Since then, Vangie had tried to move on. She tried to act civil around Shawn; she tried to not hold a grudge against him. For Yuri’s sake, she would have preferred that she and Shawn treated each other with mutual respect, but Shawn was too stubborn to let go of their past differences. He spoke to her in gruff tones in front of Yuri, giving their son the impression that she was the bad guy.

  The chorus of male voices in the background indicated that Shawn was at work at the barbershop, and probably couldn’t have a serious discussion at the moment. “When you get a chance, can you call me back; we need to talk about something serious,” Vangie said.

  “I have a few minutes; what’s on your mind?” Shawn softened his tone a little.

  Vangie took a deep breath. “Well, you know I’ve been complaining that your girlfriend’s kids are a bad influence on Yuri—”

  “Yeah, and you took me back to court, trying to cut off my visitation rights, but the judge told you to chill out. So, what’s the problem, now?”

  “The problem is—”

  “The problem is,” Shawn interrupted, “you want to control my life and give approval over who I’m seeing. But you can’t, so you need to stop trying.”

  “I don’t care who you’re seeing. I’m only trying to look out for Yuri’s best interest and would hope you felt the same way.”

  “I’m not going to let anything happen to my son, Vangie. You know that.” Shawn exhaled in frustration. “I said I have a few minutes…not all day. So, what’s this call about?” Irritation had crept into Shawn’s voice and Vangie realized she wouldn’t be able to get through to him without involving lawyers. He could be so narrow-minded and stubborn, it was infuriating.

  “Do you realize that Yuri is on a YouTube video?”

  “What?”

  “You heard me. While he was in your care, his so-called Uncle Man-Man included him in a video with a bunch of thugs, and they’re all in front of the camera rapping about killing and chopping down women.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Shawn said with a trace of pride in his voice. “I heard Yuri spitting some rhymes the other day; he might have talent. Time will tell.”

  “Time won’t tell shit. If you can’t protect Yuri and keep away from those ignorant-ass future convicts, then you don’t need to have visitation with him.”

  “Here we go with the same old shit. You’re no better than the cops, prejudging and profiling the young man only because he’s a normal, urban teen who enjoys rap music.”

  “Don’t even go there, Shawn. I like rap music, too, but I wouldn’t film a six-year-old kid rapping about illegal activities and sexual stuff he doesn’t understand. And I definitely wouldn’t post it on the Internet.”

  “Welcome to modern times,” Shawn said in a condescending way.

  “Aren’t you worried?”

  “Worried about what?”

  “Yuri’s life could be in danger. Suppose some rival gang targets Man-Man when he’s around Yuri?”

  “What gang? You watch too much TV.”

  “I don’t want that heathen named Man-Man to have any influence whatsoever on my child. Do you hear me, Shawn? If you can’t assure me that Yuri will be with you at all times during his visitation, then don’t even bother to pick him up.”

  “If I’m not mistaken, we have joint custody. I don’t ask you who you leave Yuri with—”

  “Because I only leave him with my mother.”

  “And what about your man?”

  “Alphonso doesn’t babysit for Yuri.”

  “Are you trying to tell me that ol’ boy is never alone with Yuri?”

  “What are you trying to say?”

  “Look, I know for a fact that Yuri has been in the care of ya boy and you weren’t with them.”

  Vangie thought about it. “Well, yeah, Yuri has made a couple of quick runs with Alphonso. You know…like to pick up food or to take my car in to be detailed, but I don’t leave Yuri in anyone’s care for a lengthy period of time. Your irresponsibility is frighteni
ng. I mean…seriously, what were you thinking when you brought those dangerous, uncouth people into our son’s life? Couldn’t you have kept your disgusting relationship away from Yuri?”

  “Disgusting?”

  “That’s right. I work hard to give Yuri the best life I can offer him. But you’re undoing my hard work by taking him to the damn projects, and deliberately exposing him to all sorts of violence and crime.”

  “I think Yuri is safer with Jojina’s family than he is with your man.”

  “What! Do you know how stupid you sound? Alphonso is an upstanding businessman, not a wannabe thug like you! I have to look out for my child’s well-being, so don’t even bother to pick up Yuri tomorrow. You’re not fit to be a parent!”

  “You don’t run shit, Vangie. I’ll be there to pick up Yuri for our scheduled visit and you can’t do shit about it. Oh, and by the way, ask Yuri about the gun he saw strapped to ya boy’s ankle. The gun your boy put in his hand.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Ask Yuri about it. That gun situation sounds like something the judge would find much more dangerous than Yuri rapping along with a harmless song. Think about it.”

  The phone went dead and Vangie realized that Shawn had hung up on her.

  “YURI!” Vangie screamed her son’s name.

  Yuri dashed into the kitchen. “Is dinner ready?”

  “No.” She gripped her son by the shoulders. “Did you tell your father that Alphonso let you hold a gun?”

  Yuri took on a guilty expression, and then nodded his head.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Mr. Alphonso told me not to mention it to you. He said you’d be upset.”

  “He was right. I’m very upset. But I’m more upset with Alphonso than you. You’re only a child; he should have known better.”

  “I saw the gun in his ankle strap and asked him if I could hold it.”

  Vangie grimaced in horror.

  “He took out the clip before he let me hold it,” Yuri said.

  “What do you know about clips?”

  Yuri shrugged. “I know a lot.”

  “A lot?”

  “Uh-huh. Devontay, Javarious, and me…we look at guns online. My brothers want to buy Glocks when they get older, but I want a compact Ruger, like the one Mr. Alphonso carries.”

  Vangie was beyond horrified. She grabbed her phone, ready to call Alphonso, but remembering that he was probably still en route to England, she put the phone down. Incensed, she didn’t know who she was more furious with…Shawn or Alphonso.

  NIVEA

  Mackenzie jolted awake and yelled each time Nivea tried to lower her into her crib. “You have to sleep in your crib, Kenzie. You can’t sleep in Mommy’s bed forever,” Nivea said firmly as she checked to make sure her daughter was dry. “Tonight, you’re going to have to cry yourself to sleep.”

  Since her own mother wasn’t speaking to her, Nivea got most of her parenting tips from Vangie. According to Vangie, it was okay to allow Mackenzie to cry herself to sleep as long as she was fed and dry. Mackenzie screamed in outrage when Nivea turned off the light and closed the door. A second later, Nivea rushed inside her daughter’s room and plugged in the night light. It took all her willpower not to pick up her baby and put her in bed with her.

  Heading to her bedroom, Nivea began stripping out of her clothes. A long, hot bath was in order. Taking care of a baby was exhausting, and she was anxious to hire a nanny. Dr. Sandburg’s money couldn’t come soon enough. She wondered how long it would take before she had his money secured in her bank account.

  The baby’s cries began to die down as she ran her bath water, and no sooner had she stuck her toe into the hot, scented water, she heard the dull buzz of her cell phone. Naked, she trekked into her bedroom and picked up the phone. She didn’t recognize the number of the incoming call. Maybe it was Sandburg’s lawyer, anxious to get the paperwork signed.

  “Hello?”

  “May I speak to Nivea Westcott?” asked an unfamiliar female voice.

  “This is she.”

  “This is Rachel Sandburg, Bertram’s wife…”

  Oh, shit! “What can I do for you, Mrs. Sandburg?” Nivea’s voice was even and controlled, but her heart was hammering away. How did this bitch get my number and why is she calling me?

  “Call me, Rachel. Please,” the doctor’s wife said pleasantly. “Bertram told me about the baby…” The woman paused. “The child he possibly fathered.”

  Bringing a lawyer into the equation was bad enough, but why would Dr. Sandburg also tell his wife about the situation? She was the main reason he wanted to pay for Nivea’s silence.

  “I want you to know that I don’t harbor any resentment toward you. After all, men will be men,” Rachel continued in an unreasonably chipper tone.

  Yeah, right! This bitch is acting entirely too civilized; she has to be up to something.

  “I guess you’re wondering why I’m calling.”

  I know why you’re calling! You want to demand a paternity test so you can put a stop to that hundred grand check your husband promised me! “Yes, I am,” Nivea said, suspicion coating her words.

  “After thirty-two years of marriage, Bertram has never been unfaithful. That is, until his one-time encounter with you. You and my husband were together only once; am I right, Ms. Westcott?”

  Nivea pondered the question. It was a Catch-22. Admitting to only a one-time fling made it seem less likely that Dr. Sandburg was Mackenzie’s father. But accusing the doctor of having a full-fledged affair with her might piss his wife off, altering her sweet disposition. Instinct told Nivea that she needed the doctor’s wife as an ally and not an enemy.

  “Well, this is really awkward, Mrs. Sandburg…I mean, Rachel.”

  “I understand. I won’t pry into the specifics. But please set my mind at ease—is the affair between you and my husband over?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Thank goodness. I was stunned by Bertram’s confession of adultery. But now that I’ve had time to process everything, well, I’m ready to get to the matter at hand. My husband confided that he doesn’t believe that he fathered your child. He wants to spend money to get rid of you and your child, but I don’t want to make a mistake we’ll all regret. I told him that I want to handle the matter properly.”

  She wants a DNA test. I’m so screwed! Nivea placed her fingertips on her forehead and rubbed the skin circularly. “How do you propose to handle this matter properly?” she asked with dread.

  “Well, Nivea…may I call you Nivea?”

  “Yes, of course,” Nivea responded, still wondering why Mrs. Sandburg was bothering to play nice.

  “I was hoping to see the baby for myself. I’ll know whether or not she’s Bertram’s daughter. And if she is, rest assured, my husband will do the right thing by his child.”

  Really? Oh, wow! A renewed sense of hope straightened Nivea’s shoulders. “When would you like to see Mackenzie?”

  “Is that her name…Mackenzie?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s lovely.”

  “Thank you.” The pleasantries were weird, but Nivea was willing to play along as long as she had a big payday coming. Getting on the wife’s good side and convincing her that her husband had fathered Mackenzie might be more profitable than Dr. Sandburg’s offer. Do I dare hope for eighteen years of generous child support!

  “I’m really anxious to see her, but I don’t want to interfere with your schedule…”

  “Don’t worry about it. Would you like to see the baby this week?”

  “Yes, as soon as possible.”

  “How about tomorrow afternoon? You could come here or we could meet you somewhere. Uh, somewhere discreet,” Nivea offered.

  “You’re welcome to bring the baby to our home. Bertram will be at work, of course. So there will only be us girls,” Mrs. Sandburg said with a little laugh and then gave Nivea her address—her very prestigious address that was located
in an area known for its luxurious, multimillion-dollar homes.

  Nivea had no idea Dr. Sandburg had it like that. The cheap bastard had tried to pay her off with peanuts. But if she could convince his wife that Mackenzie was his, she and her baby would be rolling in dough.

  Rachel sounded lonely, albeit a bit nutty. A childless old biddy looking for some company and a child to dote on. Nivea felt a little gush of pleasure at the idea of receiving generous support checks and her child being showered with a plethora of material things.

  Nivea had intended to ask her rich friend Harlow to be Mackenzie’s godmother, but she wouldn’t have to be bothered taking handouts from Harlow if she was able to convince Rachel Sandburg that Mackenzie was her husband’s child.

  After concluding her strange call with Rachel Sandburg, Nivea crept into Mackenzie’s room to check on her. She smiled down at her sleeping child and marveled at her perfection. She’d been bald at birth, but she now had a thin layer of dark hair. Her eyes were dark, too. Thank goodness, they weren’t green or blue. Dr. Sandburg had dark eyes, and at this stage of Mackenzie’s development, she had no glaring physical characteristics that differed from Sandburg’s.

  Nivea had no idea why Dr. Sandburg was allowing his wife to believe that he could possibly be the father. Then again, maybe his measles story was a lie. At this point, it really didn’t matter. Rachel seemed eager to accept Mackenzie.

  Satisfied that she’d be able to pass Mackenzie off as the doctor’s child, Nivea kissed her daughter and then quietly left the room.

  VANGIE

  Vangie wasn’t happy when she looked through the peephole and spotted both Shawn and Jojina standing outside her apartment door. Jojina usually waited in the car when Shawn picked up Yuri, and that was exactly where the heifer belonged.

  She opened the door, partway, but didn’t allow them to enter. She observed Jojina, taking in her tiny waist, flat tummy, and perfectly round, protrusive butt. Injections, she thought with her lips scrunched together in disapproval. Anytime project chicks were spending money on cosmetic enhancements, it was time for Vangie to step up her game. With a little liposuction, a breast lift, and a tummy tuck, she could reclaim her banging, pre-Yuri body.