Free Forgive Me by Stacy Campbell Page A

Tawatha surmised he was making more money and probably heading the household like a man should. Tawatha pulled a pack of Marlboro Lights from her purse, lit one up, and cracked her window. She continued to enjoy the view of Lake as his arms spanned the reach of the higher bushes. Zion joined him, making Tawatha sit higher.
    Zion, Lasheera’s son whom she created with a married man while doing drugs, followed Lake around the yard picking up discarded leaves. They set trash bags in the garage and began horseplay on the lawn. Zion’s growth astounded her. He was almost ten and tall like his biological father, Marvin. His jeans and T-shirt were ironed so hard she saw the crease in the pants three houses down. His cotton candy Afro sat high and proud. He’d been a crack baby who had spent months in the neonatal intensive care unit before Lasheera was able to bring him home. Tawatha teared up at the memory of holding his frail hands through the glass incubator at St. Vincent’s Hospital. “Life is moving on for everyone except me.”
    She took another drag of her cigarette and continued to watch Lake and Zion in the yard. She had become so engrossed with their family time she jumped at the tapping of a black baseball bat on her window. She smashed the Marlboro in the ashtray. Re-adjusting her shades, she let the window down to address the woman wielding the baseball bat.
    â€œMay I help you, ma’am?” Tawatha asked.
    The woman extended her free hand. “Belinda Rosewood. Your name?”
    â€œT… Tina Lewis.”
    â€œWhat are you doing sitting out here in the neighborhood? Looking for someone in particular, Ms. Lewis?”
    â€œI’m out searching for houses. My realtor told me it’s best to check out a neighborhood on a Saturday. I get to see how vibrant the neighborhood is,” said Tawatha. She gripped her trembling hands together.
    Belinda made Tawatha’s flesh crawl. She may have been decked out in pink, but there was nothing soft about her. Tawatha could tell she was a one-woman neighborhood watch, and she didn’t like being the target of her vigilance. Belinda’s small hands grazed the bat before she tucked it underneath her left arm. She pointed a pink, manicured finger in Tawatha’s face.
    â€œAre you looking to occupy the house or burn it down?”
    â€œWhat are you talking about?”
    â€œI know exactly who you are, Tawatha Gipson,” said Belinda. She snatched the shades and floppy hat from Tawatha and tossed them on the ground. She cracked the bat in her hands and raised her voice.
    â€œI will let Lasheera and Lake know you’ve been spying on them. If I see you in this vicinity again, Slugger and I make you regret you ever got out of jail!” Belinda pointed the bat at Tawatha’s face. “You’re not welcome here. Do I make myself clear?” Belinda picked up the hat and sunglasses and tossed them in Tawatha’s backseat.
    â€œYes…ma’am,” said Tawatha.
    Tawatha’s trembling hands shook more as she wrestled with the keys. She started the car and sped from the subdivision, checking her rearview mirror as Belinda stood, caressing the bat and flashing a sinister smile.

Chapter 12

    L asheera turned the blue envelope over again in the Walgreens parking lot. The huge envelope contained bills, clipped coupons, and a summons to appear in court from Zion’s father, Marvin. She removed the summons from the blue envelope, wondering how Marvin had found her. He’d relinquished all parental rights four years ago when his wife said, “Not another dime is leaking out my house for your bastard son.” Like magic, Marvin signed the necessary paperwork, granting Lasheera sole custody of Zion. Lake’s love and understanding helped smooth the transition from newlyweds to new parents. Shortly after Zion graced their presence with his boyish laughter and wide-eyed enthusiasm, Roberta