I woke up from a crazy ass dream and my eyes were drawn to the sun peeking in through the blinds. For a minute I didn’t know where I was but then I remembered, oh I’m at the dorms. My next question had a hint of hope in it, “Maybe I slept through my birthday and I missed it.”
A quick glance at the phone and I realized that I hadn’t. It was close to 7am. I sat up in bed and prayed for my day. “God please let things be okay. Guide me today. Be with me today.”
I got up and pulled on a pair of shorts and then I walked over to breakfast, praying and talking to God the whole time. When I got back to my room after eating some cereal and a bowl of fruit, I took a shower and began my dressing process.
I chose a simple white summer dress for my birthday. Silver accessories and silver sandals, eye liner, foundation and a little blush. I brushed out my hair and smiled at my reflection.
“Ok. I can do this. I can handle this. Whatever this is going to be.”
I plaed Luke’s song, It’s Your Birthday and I danced to it, shaking my ass, trying to get excited about turning 29.
I hopped into my car and drove to the metrorail station. After parking I hustld up to the platform and sat down, shaking my head and trying to think positive thoughts.
When I got downtown I found the building easily. I tookt he elevator to the second floor and signed in.
“I’m here for my child support hearing,” I told the man at the metal detector.
“You’re an hour early, they’re not ready yet,” he said. “You can come back later and we’ll let you right in.”
I walked over to a nearby plaza and sat down on a chair with my bag on my lap. The sun was bright, the air was nice, but my heart was hurting. “I can’t believe this man is suing me for child support,” I murmured. “He doesn’t need it. But damn…he wants it anyway.”
Since I was feeling so down, I had turned off my phone. I didn’t want to deal with all of the Happy Birthday calls and text messages from my friends. I couldn’t even bring myself to have to answer, “What are you doing for your birthday?”
Umm..I’m going to court to be sued by my BBDD. Didn’t want to have to explain that.
I called my little sister and she made me laugh by telling jokes and telling stories about how her fiance keeps treating her so well. That always uplifts me.
“Ok girl, lemme go. It’s time.”
I walked back over to the building, signed in again and sat down in the lobby with the other people waiting for their case to be heard. A few minutes later, my BBDD walks in with his suit on, checks in and smiles at me.
“Hi, Ms. Patterson,” he says and sits down next to me.
I didn’t respond. It was whatever.
When they said it was time, we all had to go through the metal detectors and fill out forms. Then they called us, couple by couple to be interviewed.
As he and I sat next to each other, I didn’t say much.
“How much income do you have?”the woman asked me.
“I have a blogging job that brings in $75 a month. That’s my only consistent income.”
We filled out our forms and they did the computer calculations. With his income of $5731.78 a month and my income of $75, they raised my income to imputed which means that I should be making a minimum wage so they calculated it to minimum wage which is $1,017.10 a month.
The lady showed us the paperwork and asked him if he wanted back child support, which he said he did. She calculated that I owed him $7,774.12 for the time he has had the children. Then she said that I would have to pay $357.28 a month plus whatever amount the judge sets for arrears.
My heart ached. But I cringed when I heard him ask, “Is there any way that we can do an investigation to be able to find out if that’s really all she’s making?”
The lady looked at him with a tight lip. “You can ask the judge that.”
We went back inside the waiting room and they called us all in the court room. The judge walked in, we had to stand and sit down again. We watched as other cases were heard. The judge was a Black man who was probably in his late 40’s, he was personable and kinda jovial.
The first case that we heard, the woman was suing her ex for child support, but when sat down, she was getting the case dismissed. He still had to pay her the arrears, which the judge set at $50 a month and the judge told him to hurry and get a job before the first payment hits.
“Don’t worry,” his ex said and looked at him and then the judge. “He’s trying so when I get paid I’m going to give him the money so he can make the payments until he gets back on his feet.”
I was shocked. I should have had my babies from her!
We listened to a few more cases before they called our names. I sat in the seat that I had seen all the women sit in but they made me switch seats when they learned that he was the one suing me.
The judge asked him where he worked and he told them XYZ law firm. The judge asked him what he did there and he replied, “I’m an associate attorney.”
I could hear the people in the room gasp.
Then the judge asked me what I did. I told him that I am a blogger and a student.
“Which school?”
I told him.
“What are you studying?”
“”I’m getting my masters in Marriage/Family/Therapy.”
“Ohh,” the judge smiled. “A masters?”
My BBDD laughed.
“I make straight A’s” I said proudly. “I’m a writer. I write for the Herald.”
“Oh really?” the judge asked. “Where can I read some of your work?”
“It’s in the paper sporadically, but you can google me and read my portfolio.”
“Where did you go for undergrad,” he asked.
“I went to the University of Florida.”
The judge smiled. “Why did the children change hands?”
I sighed and released my emotions. I told the story of how I took care of my sons, was on foodstamps, section 8, welfare and every other program you could name while he graduated from law school and went on to enjoy his career. I could never get the case modified because everytime I would, I’d get some paperwork about him contesting paternity or filing for custody so the case was stalled many times for many years.
I was a secretary for so many different companies and then I wanted to step out and do what I do, which is be a journalist, so I took a risk and changed jobs and then I lost my job. After months of handling my bills with no income and abosultely no help from HIM, he offered to take them for me while I looked for a job. He never once told the courts that he was now an attorney and making more money. He never once complied and made it easier for my household.
I sighed when I was done and the judge kinda smirked. Everything that I said had nothing to do with the day’s case, but at least I let it be known, on record and in court…and in front of him.
When the judge finished questioning me about my work history and laughing as I told him about hopping from job to job and city to city, I could feel the women in the room staring at my BBDD and giving him the ‘you nasty motherfucker’ look.
He set my payment to just around $500 a month and I asked him when my first payment was due and he said, July 6th.
I almost fell out. I don’t have any money for that. I don’t know how I could get it. What am I supposed to do about spending time with my sons and taking them out to eat if I have to give him all of that money every month? I can barely afford to feed them when we spend time together now, which limits the amount of time I can spend with them.
My BBDD raised his voice, “Um, we’re about to leave with this financial information,” he said to the judge. “And she has a blog. I just want to make sure she knows she can’t mention this information on her blog.”
The judge replied quickly, “This information is public record. Anyone can look it up and see it.”
Ohh..so he’s so worried about looking like an ass on the internet? Well, I wasn’t going to but I guess I can include his name then…
Everyone you can say hi to Salisu A. Richardson, Esq. Better known as “Sal”. He’s my BBDD. Mr. Empowerment, Mr. Forward Movement himself.
“What am I supposed to do?” I asked, tears already running down my cheeks.
“You have a month to come up with the money,” the judge said.
My BBDD walked out first and I saw him look at me. I was so embarrassed to let him see me cry but I couldn’t help it. Two women from the court followed me outside and rubbed my back, telling me that it was gonna be alright and that I was gonna make it through this.
“He’s nasty! He has no business doing this, he’s a MAN and he has more than enough money to take care of them without your help,” they commented, referring to my BBDD. “But God’s got a plan for you. God wants to get the glory in this. All you have to do is trust that you are gonna make it through this. And pay what you can, something is better than nothing.”
They blessed me and I dried my tears and walked out of the courthouse.
It started raining as soon as I stepped outside and I opened my umbrella and walked back to the train station, not believing what had just happened.
I rode back up north and went back to my car. At first I was gonna go back to my room and cry but I decided to stick to my plan and treat myself to a bucket of garlic crabs for my birthday. I drove over to the crab place on 79th street and bought a small bucket. Then I went back to my room and cried again as I undressed and changed clothes. I sat on my bed and opened my bucket.
Happy Birthday to me.
I tasted the first crab and my shoulders fell.
Fuck..these crabs are nasty. I ate the whole thing anyway, upset the entire time that my treat wasn’t really a treat at all. I then went to the cafeteria and had dinner. I could barely eat, my entire body felt so heavy.
I turned on my phone and just as I did, my boys called me to see how my birthday went. I told them it was fine.
“Mama,” my almost 6 year old said, “When you come see us for my birthday, can we buy you a cake for your birthday too?”
I love him. He’s so good to me.
“Aww baby, that’s so sweet of you, but we’ll have to see about that. As long as you have your cake, I’ll be happy. We’re gonna get one for you. We’re gonna have a slumber party and stay with your uncle Erick and sleep on the floor! It’s gonna be great!”
I was trying to make the arrangements sound as exciting as possible and guess what– it worked.
“What’s a slumber party?” my son asked.
“It’s when we all sleep on the floor and stay up late, eat popcorn, have pillow fights and watch movies and dance and have fun!”
“Oohh!” he said. “I like that.”
I hung up with them and went back to my room. I logged in to the internet but I could barely move to type anything. My body felt so drained. So drained.
I looked at the clock. 7pm. Oh damn.. I lay there hoping to go to sleep so that this day would be over. Sleep didn’t come.
So I just layed there. And I felt the heaviness pressing down on my chest. And I pictured him laughing at me. And I pictured him clapping and celebrating with his fiance. And I wondered what kid of friends he has that would encourage him to do this when he KNOWS I’m trying to do my best and make a life for myself and my sons.
Why is he so intent on stopping my progress? WHy is he so against me?
And then the answer came. His voice in my ear whispering, “I told you not to have those kids.”
I finally fell asleep around 1am I guess. I woke up this morning with a heaviness on my heart but my intuition said, “Go downtown.”
There I met a woman who smiled at me and said, “Don’t worry, you’ve met me now. We’re gonna work on this together. We’ll see what we can do.”
