Single Mama Drama

Sure enough, I saw a throng of people milling about outside my condo. I didn’t need to see the cameras to know they were reporters. In my numbed haze, I’d driven right by my building and not even noticed them before.

Some surrounded the front door. Some hovered near the entrance to the building’s parking lot. Slowing, I drove past my condo, wondering what to do.

As I circled the block, I realized that I didn’t have a choice. I had to get inside, had to get to my daughter. And my best bet was to drive into the condo’s parking lot, as I always did. At the very least, it would provide me the protection of my car should the reporters recognize me, and I doubted any of them would risk getting run over simply to get the perfect photo of the grieving fiancée.

Eli and I had been photographed at the hospital fund-raiser, and that picture had made the pages of the Miami Herald. So had the photo that accompanied our engagement announcement. Clearly, the reporters surrounding my building figured they could spot me when I approached.

I wasn’t about to let that happen.

Before I rounded the corner that would take me back to my condo, I slipped off my sleek sunglasses and put on the large pair I always kept in my car. Then I placed my cell phone at my ear, and acted like I was in the middle of a fun conversation. A short while later, I drove past the reporters as though they didn’t faze me one bit. Cameras swung my way, as did curious glances, but I kept my cool and inched forward, even laughing loudly into my phone as I pressed my key card to the electronic sensor.

And then I was on my way into the indoor parking for the residents of Cosmopolitan Towers.

Inside, I breathed a sigh of relief. Good grief, this was insane! Here I was, having to sneak past reporters to get to my own home. Damn Eli. He hadn’t just died in the sleaziest of situations. He’d thrown me into a potful of drama.

Oh, he’d been right to be concerned that my association with him might bring out the paparazzi. But never in my wildest dreams had I thought it would be under these circumstances.

Just before I rounded the corner inside the parking garage, I craned my neck for one last look at the reporters pacing the sidewalk.

And I couldn’t help thinking, My life is about to get seriously complicated.

chapter four

Carla opened her apartment door and immediately swept me into her arms. “Vanessa!”

“Mommy!” The shriek came immediately afterward. I broke apart from Carla in time to scoop up Rayna, who was racing toward me. There’s nothing that brings a brighter smile to your face than coming home to a child who loves you so much she’ll drop whatever she’s doing to throw herself into your arms.

“Rayna, sweetie.” I planted kisses all over my daughter’s face, which had her in a fit of giggles. “I missed you, baby.”

“I miss Mommy.”

“Well, Mommy’s home now.” I held her tight, emotion welling up inside me. “Mommy’s home.”

Rayna shimmied out of my arms, then headed back to the center of the living room. She lifted a paper full of colorful swirls. “Look, Mommy.”

I walked toward her and examined the artwork she held. “Oh, wow. You made that?” Rayna beamed. “It’s beautiful.”

“Rainbow.”

“Yes, a rainbow,” I agreed, amazed at how much the picture did resemble a rainbow. “Look at all the beautiful colors.”

“This for Daddy.” Rayna lifted another picture that had a big circle colored mostly black. “A cat.”

I had to swallow back the tears. “Yes. For Daddy.”

Rayna planted herself on the floor beside Carla’s daughter, Amani, and they resumed playing with a range of colorful ponies that they were both so fond of. It was a bit of a reprieve, thankfully, because I had no clue what I was going to say to Rayna about Eli.

“It’s been all over the news,” Carla said, her tone quiet. “You must have seen the media camped outside the building.”

I nodded. “I assume they were looking for me, but I drove past them and they didn’t notice me.”

“This is crazy.”

“Tell me about it.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “I took a detour to the beach for a moment to clear my head, and a reporter from the Miami Herald approached me.”

Carla’s mouth fell open. “What?”

“Yeah. I’d apparently met her once with Eli at an event, and she remembered me. Plus she found my name on the condo’s deed. The woman had the nerve to follow me! I saw her when I was at Bayside earlier today. Of course, I didn’t realize who she was at the time. Until she approached me twenty minutes ago and said she wanted to ask me a few questions.”

“Wow.”

“Wow indeed.” I sighed softly. “Hopefully by tomorrow, they’ll lose interest in this story. Staking me out like this? It’s crazy. I’m not Paris Hilton or Britney Spears. I’m a woman whose fiancé was killed by a jealous husband. Happens every day.”

“I hate to tell you this, but CNN hasn’t stopped running the story. They’re saying that neither you, his ‘live-in love—’” Carla made air quotes “—nor his family could be reached for comment.”

“What family? They tried to reach his mother in Barbados?” Eli’s father had died the year before he retired from baseball, and his mother had moved back to Barbados right after that. When we got engaged, I’d asked Eli if he would call his mother and let me say hello, but he didn’t want to. Something about her being a Christian and that she’d hate the idea of us living in sin. “I know he’s got some cousins somewhere,” I told Carla, “but I’ve never met them. Eli said I’d meet them all at a family reunion this summer, and that he was looking forward to surprising them with news of our engagement.”

“They certainly had enough to broadcast without comments from his family,” Carla said. “CNN spent the day replaying the scene outside the house where he was…well, you know. Showing the crime scene tape, and that woman’s husband in handcuffs. He wasn’t shy about talking to the press, that’s for sure. They also showed highlights of Eli’s career with the Braves, and even had people phone in to share their memories of Eli.”

“Share their memories? He hasn’t played pro ball in seven years.”

“It’s still big news. With how he was killed, and why…It’s a sensational story.”

I grew quiet. What else was there to say? Carla was right—it was the outlandish nature of Eli’s murder that had garnered such media interest. I wondered if the reporters were going to stick around until they got a statement from me.

Carla rubbed my forearm. “How are you holding up?”

“Okay. I think. But I don’t know how…” I had to stop, take a calming breath. “I’m afraid to go upstairs, Carla, and be there…knowing that Eli won’t be coming home.”

“You can stay here if you want.”

I shook my head, dismissing the idea without giving it a thought. “The routine has to be the same. For Rayna’s sake.”

Carla gripped both of my hands. “Don’t you worry about Rayna. She’s perfectly fine.”

As if to emphasize that point, my daughter’s high-pitched laughter pierced the room.

“I know,” I agreed.

“You need to take care of you,” Carla insisted. “If it’s too soon for you to go upstairs, you tell Rayna we’re having a sleepover. Trust me, she’ll think it’s fun.”

“I hear you. I do. But I can’t…” I swallowed, considered my words. “I can’t avoid this situation forever. I have to go home and deal with…with the truth. If I don’t go now, when will I? I may never be ready.”

Carla pulled me into her thick arms and gave me a heartfelt hug. “Oh, Vanessa. I’m so sorry. I can’t even begin to imagine how you’re feeling right now. But you’ll get through this.”

I nodded, but I didn’t entirely believe what she was saying. As it was, I felt like I was walking an emotional tightrope. One wrong move and I could fall into a pit of despair. The only thing keeping me walking a straight line at the moment was my daughter. She was the reason I was able to summon the strength to keep moving forward.

“What can I do?” Carla asked.