The Case Manager Read online

  I love you,

  Samantha

  P.S. Candice, you’re the real case manager and have been the voice of reason for and to all of us. Follow your heart like I’ve followed mine.

  PART TWO

  Five Years Later

  Chapter Sixteen

  The Truth: Beauty and Terror

  Candice

  One would have thought that after all I’d encountered, I would have told someone or run as fast and far away from Hope House that I could. However, we allowed Ms. Nancy to convince us to stay longer than we were supposed to stay. Originally, after six months to a year of our children being born, Ms. Nancy was to assist us with getting housing in place. Instead, she insisted that we stay and work for her around the house and assist her with the new girls who would end up being placed at Hope House. She said she was awarded a grant where she could hire help. Ms. Nancy said she didn’t feel comfortable hiring people she didn’t know and would feel better if we’d come on board and work for her. She said we’d start off as paid interns and that our official positions would commence when the new girls arrived. Honestly, prolonging our stay at Hope House was the last thing any of us wanted. However, hearing that there would be new girls caused our stomachs to churn. All of us vowed to work for Ms. Nancy, save up money so we could get our own place, and do whatever we could possibly do to help protect and save whoever was to be sent to Hope House.

  Then there was the terrifying issue that tormented our minds daily with Paul being a police officer. It was as if he and Anthony had tracking devices on us. Each time we tried to leave the house, one of them would show up where we were, or if they didn’t, we’d see police officers, and it was as if they were watching us as well. It just seemed like everyone was helping to keep their secrets, and the fear of ending up like Officer Greg and Laura prevented us from carrying anything out. I even went so far as to call Mother after giving birth to my firstborn, Princess Amiya. Without question, Mother didn’t believe a word I said and insulted me instead.

  “You would do anything possible to continually bring shame to our family along with your bastard child. You’re nothing more than a liar. I knew there was something wrong with you the moment I gave birth and saw how dark your complexion was. I knew you would turn out to mirror all the other bitter black women. You are not my child. I don’t know how I gave birth to someone like you. You are the biggest mistake of my life. God knew you were a mistake, which is why He blessed me with twins who favor me and are fair skinned just like their mother. They will walk in my footsteps and are better than you.”

  Well, that was five years ago, and the last time I’d spoken to or heard from her. It broke my heart that my own mother despised my existence. The best part out of all the heartache and pain was my children. Reflecting always brought me to the birth of my princess Amiya, because it still made me chuckle, especially relieving Nakita’s commentary. “You need a redo because that wasn’t no labor. That’s not fair. Who doesn’t know they’re in labor?” she fumed.

  The day before I gave birth to Amiya my stomach kept tightening up, but I couldn’t feel it at all when it did. The only way I knew it was tight was if I happened to touch it or was getting undressed. I honestly had no idea when it started, how long it lasted, or how frequently it was coming, because I didn’t feel a thing. Well, at 5:30 p.m. the next day while shopping in the mall, my water broke, and I was rushed to the hospital next door to the mall. Upon arrival, I was informed that I was dilated six and a half centimeters. Much to everyone’s surprise, shortly after all the prepping and checking, I informed Dr. Mitchel that I felt as if I needed to move my bowels. During her examination, she saw Amiya’s head crowning, and an hour later, my little princess was born, weighing in at seven pounds, ten ounces.

  The twins weren’t too far behind her. Amiya was five, and my boys were four years old. Unfortunately, I didn’t know if Anthony or Paul was their father. Unlike Samantha, I couldn’t give my boys away. They didn’t ask to be here. There was no way I could punish them or myself for it. Even with the badgering about the identity of who the father was that I received from Ms. Nancy when she learned I was expecting, I refused to punish myself.

  I was able to conceal my pregnancy for four months. However, going into my fifth month, I woke up with my stomach resembling the belly of a woman with child. There was no way I’d be able to hide it any longer, no matter how hard I tried. Admitting the truth to Ms. Nancy meant telling her what was being done to us and also the possibility of Amiya being motherless. That was my fear. So I did something I disliked doing. I made up a story and told her I was pregnant by the landscaper’s son. Benny usually assisted his father with tending the lawn, making him a believable suspect. Being untruthful was something I despised, but fearing the results of my truth outweighed how I felt.

  Ms. Nancy became furious learning of my pregnancy and suggested I look into getting my tubes tied if I was going to keep getting knocked up by men who didn’t plan on having anything to do with me or my children. As those hurtful words spilled from her lips, it felt as if she had turned into Mother from her slanderous statement. Without question, she fired Benny’s dad, and Anthony later resumed his old position as Hope House’s groundskeeper, making it difficult for us to avoid being on pins and needles at all times.

  Nakita and I worked around the clock to protect our little girls. We ended up moving into my bedroom since it was a little larger than hers. As did the other girls. We’d turned the larger rooms into a two-family rooming house. We were sure to sleep with the dresser pressed up against the door to prevent anyone from entering. There had been those late nights when we’d hear Anthony and Paul at the door. They’d turn away the moment they realized their attempts were being hindered.

  For several months after the birth of Amiya, everything was perfect. We didn’t have any problems and were able to stay clear of Paul and Anthony. That included meal time as well. Ms. Nancy hadn’t been feeling well. She’d been in and out of the hospital. We’d been ordering in or preparing breakfast with the other girls and eating in our rooms when everyone could not eat together. All hell broke loose when we had a leak in the toilet in my bedroom. Well, our bedroom, I should say. Anthony was officially Hope House’s handyman, in more ways than one. Anyway, he somehow broke the toilet even more than it had been. If you ask me, it was done purposely. We were forced to use the restroom in the hall. You’d think since they lived across the yard, we’d be able to get a morning shower in without any problems.

  I guess I must have slipped and bumped my head thinking we were in the clear of them. If I am not mistaken, approximately eight weeks after giving birth to Amiya, while in the shower I was snapped back into my reality. To my surprise, Ms. Nancy ordered Paul and Anthony to stay in her quarters just in case something were to happen. Each morning, or every time any of us was downstairs, we hadn’t heard a peep from them and had no idea that they’d been in Ms. Nancy’s part of the house.

  While our princesses slept, Nakita and I decided to shower and get ourselves together before they awoke. Tracy, Judith, and Simone looked after Amiya and Adrianna while we bathed as we took turns looking after one another.

  Nakita took the upstairs bath, and I decided to use the bath in Ms. Nancy’s room since she was in the hospital. It felt as if I hadn’t bathed in years the way the hot water relaxed my body. The moment I stepped out of the shower, my worst and recurring nightmare was in living color, staring me dead in the face.

  “Did you really think you’d be able to avoid us forever? As long as you’re under this here roof, you belong to us. Now lie down,” Anthony growled, standing at the door, leaning against the frame.

  “No, please. I just had a baby,” I whimpered while scrambling for my towel. Darting past Anthony, I was stopped in my tracks seeing Paul blocking the bedroom door.

  “You know the drill. This can be easy on you or difficult. It’s up to you,” Anthony threatened.

  After those words left Anthony’s lips, tears, f
ear, and panic rushed me instantly as the walls began closing in on me and the room faded to black. When I came to, I was back in the bathroom being bathed by Nakita as she sobbed uncontrollably.

  “Wha . . . what happened to me? The last thing I remember is running out of the bathroom straight into Paul.”

  With distress painted across her face, Nakita shut her eyes as drops of tears slowly ran down her chocolate face as she blubbered, “You were taking too long, so I came downstairs to see if you were all right. I thought you were dead, Candice. You weren’t moving at all. Your body was lifeless when I opened the door. Those bastards didn’t even care! They just kept having their way with you. At that point, I didn’t care what happened to me, nor did I think about what I was doing. Before I knew it, I was on top of Anthony, pulling him off you. I even bit a chunk out of his arm, and he squealed like the debutante he is. Dumbass Paul sat in the corner, crying like a sissy. Mr. Policeman is a little sissy. There wasn’t a chance in hell that I was about to lose another sister. I just cannot lose you, Candice. Please promise me you won’t leave my sight ever again, even if we have to shower and take craps together.”

  Softly chuckling through my own fresh stream of tears, I began to pull Nakita at her collar to try to help her snap out of it. The more I pulled, the more she sobbed. I tugged on her so much that she ended up in of the bathtub with me.

  As the water consumed her, Nakita’s eyes shot open, startling me until she started speaking. “Candice, I really cannot lose you. You, Adrianna, and Amiya are all I have. Please promise you will never leave me like that again. Please, Candice.”

  “I’m not going anywhere, I promise,” I sniveled.

  Stepping out of the tub, Nakita grabbed a towel and reached for me as if I were Adrianna and said, “We’re all we have, Candice. We are all we have.”

  For the first time in my life, I felt loved amid the hate and abuse. I adored Nakita. She was the sister and just short of the mother I never had.

  “Do you hear me, Candice?” she pursued, pulling me from my thoughts.

  Like rain in the winter, my eyes poured the truth. There weren’t any words available for me to use. My tears translated everything that my heart needed and wanted to say. Nakita heard every word I didn’t say. We stood there staring at one another, crying, speaking to one another in our own language.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Resentment: The Blame Game

  Nakita

  My mind had been thinking a million thoughts a minute. I was so caught up in them that everything else faded away until it was just me and them. I’d seen her mouth moving in front of me as clear as day, but her words weren’t connecting, and they flew past my head. My thoughts had gotten the best of me. There were some questions that had been continuously popping up in my mind day in and day out that I just could not shake. Why was I so upset? Why did I blame those innocent twins? In my logical mind, I knew the water was calm, but my anger was festering, and it ran wild every time I was alone or laid eyes on Darren and Dylan.

  “Nakita?” Candice shouted, awakening me from my reverie.

  “Yes. Yeah, what’s up?”

  “Do you think you can help Tracy and Simone out with watching Amiya and the twins? Ms. Nancy is still requesting to see me. I am not sure why, but I am going to try to get up there this time.”

  “You know I don’t know how to watch boys, Candice. I’ll keep the girls, and let Tracy and Simone deal with the boys.”

  “Nakita, there really isn’t a difference in raising boys and girls. We’ve been doing this for years now.”

  “No, you’ve been doing it. I’ve only helped with Amiya. You always tend to the twins.”

  “You know what? You’re right. Why is that, now that you’ve shed light on it?”

  “Why is what?”

  “Now that I am thinking about it, every time I ask or bring up doing anything pertaining to Darren and Dylan, there has been one excuse after the other. What’s really the problem?” she quizzed as her voice cracked.

  “There’s no need to cry, Candice. I don’t have a problem. I love the twins just as much as I do you and the girls.”

  “When is the last time you hugged them or even interacted with them?”

  “You cannot be serious. I interact with them every day, Candice. Are you seriously asking me this?”

  “I am very much serious. You remain affectless every time you talk to or about them, or do anything pertaining to them. So again, what’s really the problem? I actually thought it was me, but I see it is not and you hate my children. What did they ever do to you?” she wailed.

  “Do not turn into Ms. Nancy on me with that damn word.”

  “Don’t walk around or past the question, Nakita. Why do you hate my babies?”

  “For one, I do not hate them. How can I hate innocent babies? Like really, Candice, hate?”

  “Well, you don’t love or like them, and that is evident. I just need to understand why.”

  “Honestly?”

  “Yes, please be honest with me, because I don’t want my children anywhere they’re not wanted.”

  “It has literally been five years since those cowards violated your lifeless body. However, the image of it haunts me as if it happened an hour ago. And . . . and . . .”

  “And what, Nakita? Please just say it.”

  Like a child trying to stop crying, I tried to gather my thoughts. I had suddenly come to a point where I couldn’t control my breathing and had trouble taking in air. Every time I attempted to gather myself and talk, my breathing increased.

  “Nakita, calm down, because I need to understand what the problem is. I was raised by a mother who resented me. I will die before I allow my children to experience anything remotely close to what I experienced. I love you to death, but I will move out of this room if I have to, because I cannot allow my kids to grow up in the midst of hate.”

  With my eyes closed, I pleaded, “Please don’t say or think that. I don’t resent any of these babies. It’s just every time I see the twins”—I cleared my throat—“I never see them. The only image that flashes before me is Anthony on top of your lifeless body. The blood on the floor near and around you, I see it. It haunts me every time I look at them. I love those boys. You know I do, Candice. I just cannot escape that image,” I confessed through a thunderstorm of tears.

  “Open your eyes and look at me. Please look at me!” she insisted, grabbing my hand escorting me in the twins’ direction.

  “Just give me time. Ms. Nancy said admitting the problem is the first step. Everything is a process and takes time.”

  “This isn’t a damn twelve-step program, Nakita. These are my children. If you have a problem with them, you have a problem with me and everything else attached to me, including Amiya.”

  “I don’t have a problem with you or the kids, Candice. I am sorry, but that scene plays continually in my head, and I can’t shake it.”

  “I understand that. However, none of this is their fault. They didn’t do anything to me except love and need me. If we’re going to start feeling a way about the kids because of how they were conceived, then we should all feel a way toward just about every last one of these babies, including yours. The last time I checked, all of them except Amiya were the result of forceful and unwanted sex.”

  “Oh, my goodness, what have I done? I am so sorry. I never looked at it that way. I am so sorry, Darren and Dylan. I love both of you,” I bawled, dropping to my knees, embracing both boys at the same time as I wept.

  “Don’t cry, Aunt Kita,” the boys said sympathetically in unison.

  Kissing their chubby cheeks, I apologized repeatedly. I felt horrible and like a jerk for allowing my thoughts to consume me. I usually talked to Ms. Nancy when things bothered and consumed me. However, out of fear, we decided to make up a story and tell Ms. Nancy that Candice messed around with one of the guys who took care of the lawn, which prevented me from talking to her about it. Instead, I internalized everything and t
ook it out on those poor babies. I avoided them by any means necessary. I actually thought I was numb to everything, but seeing Candice like that made me mourn Shakita all over again. The image of Candice on that floor was a permanent scar in my head. She looked like she was dead. I could not and refused to lose another sister. Subconsciously, I thought, I had been blaming those innocent babies. What kind of person was I?

  Realizing what I had been internalizing, I asked Candice for forgiveness. I wasn’t sure if she’d be able to ever look at me the same. Although I was hoping nothing would change between the two of us, without a doubt, I was absolutely wrong for the way I’d handled things. Had the shoe been on the other foot, I wasn’t sure how I would have responded to Candice. She said she wasn’t upset with me, but she was hurt, and that made me feel horrible. I promised her to do everything in my power to make things right.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The Truth of the Matter

  Paul

  “Anthony, how can we continue acting as if one of us didn’t father those boys? They look just like us. We already don’t know where the other one is.”

  “There is no other one. What the hell has gotten into that stupid brain of yours? How can they be our boys when they’re much darker than either of us? How can they be ours when they have light brown eyes and ours are a blueish gray? How can they be our boys when they have brown hair and we have black hair? Are you really trying to lose everything you worked so hard for?”

  “Because their mom has all of those things. You cannot possibly believe that bogus story she told Nancy about the father.”

  “Yes, I do. Who am I to say otherwise? That is her story, and we are sticking to it. Don’t go screwing things up with a conscience all of a sudden, Paul. Neither of us is those kids’ father. She’s not innocent. Those girls are very promiscuous. How do you think they ended up here? The last time I checked, neither of them is the Virgin Mary. Or are you saying you’re ready to see the inside of a jail cell alongside the prisoners you’ve locked up?”