Then Comes Baby
Prologue
ONE
Cruz
“We find the defendant guilty, Your Honor,” the jury foreman says, causing my family and friends to audibly gasp.
“We’ll file an appeal,” my attorney leans over and says. “I don’t understand how they reached that conclusion.”
I can’t speak as I try to process how the life I know has gone up in smoke and I didn’t do a damn thing wrong. Before I can form any words, the judge says, “Cruz Dempsey, you’re hereby sentenced to ten years. Bailiff, please escort the prisoner out of the courtroom.”
Denied.
The bold letters across the letter of appeal that my attorney filed on my behalf has me slumping in my bunk. I don’t understand why either because of the legalese used in the letter, but the bottom line is I’m still incarcerated.
“Don’t give up,” my cell mate, Mark says. “Folks talk around here and it’s well-known that you were a scapegoat, man. And don’t show any sign of defeat because this news will make the rounds too, even though it won’t come from me.”
“Appreciate it, man. I’ll get my shit together before chow,” I mutter.
Now I get to let my parents and sisters know the score.
Disappointment thrums through me as I think about the years I spent in school that’s now worth nothing more than a paperweight.
Even when I get out, it’s highly doubtful that I could ever be reinstated, especially with the charges I was brought up for.
“Here are the conditions of your parole. Your parole officer is Jerome Douglass and he’ll give you any other restrictions that you need to follow in order to keep from returning to finish the last of your sentence,” the warden says.
“Don’t think you’ll have any issues, Dempsey, since you’ve been a model prisoner during your time here. ”
I reach out and shake his hand. Despite the circumstances and my environment over these past five years, the warden is a decent man. His rules are fair, but he’s no pushover, as many other inmates have found out. “Thanks, sir.”
The air outside of prison feels different—fresh, clean, and unrestricted. Yes, I’ve got certain conditions I have to adhere to in order to keep living outside of prison, but following rules and laws has never been an issue for me before, so I doubt it’s going to start now.
I walk toward my pickup truck, which my sister dropped off on her way out of town on a traveling nurse contract.
Serena keeps herself busy, and while I was locked up, she drove my truck.
Unfortunately, my house had to be sold to cover the cost of my defense, but my belongings are safe in a storage unit that my parents made sure was paid every month from an account that I set up.
Driving to the duplex that I rented, I mentally think about everything I need to do before I start my first shift at the job I now have, working the three to eleven shift at a warehouse, loading and unloading tractor trailers.
It’s not glamorous by any means and it’s definitely a far cry from what I did before, but it’ll pay the bills and put food in my stomach.
“Cruz, we’ll find another attorney and have them file another appeal for a new trial,” my mom said. “You have to have faith that it’s all going to work out the way it’s supposed to.”
“So, you’re telling me that God wanted me to go to prison, lose my licenses and certifications, and destroy my life? I’m having a hard time believing that, Mom,” I retorted.
“Paul was imprisoned. So were many others, Cruz, and they persevered,” she replied.
“I’m not giving up on filing for a new trial, Mom, but I need to get settled into being out in the free world once again first.”
“Maybe when you’re settled, you’ll find yourself a nice girl and give me some grandchildren,” she mused. “Because your sisters aren’t working fast enough.”
“Then you better pray, Mom, because no one’s going to want an ex-convict.”
Laughter wakes me from the impromptu nap I was taking on my couch and I find myself peering through my window to see two women carrying boxes, while two guys are trying to maneuver a sectional couch off a trailer so they can bring it into the duplex next door.
Looks like I’m going to have at least one new neighbor, possibly more.
Slipping my sneakers back on, I open my door and call out, “Hey, let me give y’all a hand with that. ”
One of the women catches my eye and in my mind I think, In another lifetime, I’d be chasing you, pretty girl.
Instead, I smile and nod as I walk toward the two men to help balance their load a little better.
“You lived here long?” the guy who introduced himself as Brock asks.
“I ask because she’s my sister and I need to ensure she’s safe. ”
“About six months, give or take,” I reply. “I have a doorbell camera system that’s motion activated, plus an alarm. Have you thought about one of those for her?”
He shakes his head as he says, “I hadn’t before now, but I’ll be sure to put it on the mounting list of ‘things Mindy needs for her new place’ that she’s started.”
Mindy, my mind whispers. A beautiful name for a beautiful woman.
Dex, the other guy, starts laughing and adds, “You know damn good and well that Jolie’s adding to it as well. You should’ve been more specific when you said you’d take her to get ‘house stuff’, Brock.”
Brock shrugs. “She’s my little sister, it’s my job to make sure she’s safe. You’ll keep an eye on the place, won’t you, Cruz? She works from home and outside of maybe going to dinner with Jolie, she leads a quiet life.”
“That’s because when she and Jolie are together, it’s anything but quiet,” Dex teases.
I continue listening to them banter, answering questions when I’m asked, but outside of that, I mostly observe the group’s dynamic.
It’s obvious they’ve been friends a very long time and as I leave to head over to my place, I make sure to let Brock know I’ll watch out for his sister.
I’d want the same from my own sisters’ neighbors if I couldn’t be there.